How My Mental Health Journey Has Shaped My Goals, Relationships, and Understanding of the World For much of my life, I struggled with challenges I couldn’t fully name—intense anxiety, episodes of depression, difficulty focusing, and overwhelming reactions to everyday sensory input. These experiences often left me feeling confused, frustrated, and alone. Only recently have I begun to suspect that I may be living with ADHD, autism, and sensory processing disorder. Although I still await formal assessments, developing this self-awareness has been transformative. It has helped me better understand myself, rebuild confidence, and shape a life supporting my needs and values. Through this ongoing journey, I’ve come to see how deeply my mental health has influenced my goals, relationships, and worldview. Growing up, I often felt like I was trying to keep up in a world that wasn’t built for me. I had trouble focusing in class, even when I cared deeply about the subject. Loud, chaotic environments quickly overwhelmed me. Social situations drained me, and I didn’t understand why others navigated them so easily. Without any language to describe these experiences, I blamed myself. I thought I was lazy, too sensitive, or not good enough. That harsh inner voice stayed with me through adolescence, shaping how I saw myself and what I believed I could achieve. Discovering that my struggles might stem from neurodivergence brought a mix of relief and grief. I finally had a possible explanation, which made me feel seen, but I also mourned the years I spent believing I was broken. Most importantly, I began to feel empowered. Understanding that my brain works differently—and that difference is valid—has changed how I approach everything from self-care to long-term planning. I’ve started to embrace my way of thinking and processing the world and become better at advocating for what I need. One of the most significant changes has been in how I set goals. In the past, my goals were shaped by external expectations: get straight A’s, never miss a deadline, stay productive, and never show weakness. I pushed myself hard to meet these standards, often at the expense of my health. Eventually, I burned out and felt disconnected from who I was. Today, I approach goal-setting with more compassion and realism. I focus on what matters most to me—balance, authenticity, growth, and well-being. Now, I hope to build a career that allows me to thrive and supports others with similar challenges. I’m especially drawn to mental health advocacy, writing, education, or peer support for neurodivergent communities. My lived experience has given me insight, empathy, and a desire to help others feel less alone. I no longer define success by productivity or perfection but by whether I live with purpose and contribute meaningfully. My relationships have also shifted in powerful ways. For a long time, I felt misunderstood and isolated. I didn’t know how to explain why I needed so much alone time or why certain situations left me emotionally exhausted. I often masked my discomfort to fit in, adding to my stress. As I’ve learned more about autism and sensory processing issues, I’ve come to understand these patterns and let go of shame around them. I’ve become more honest with others and more intentional about the relationships I nurture. I now prioritize people who show empathy, patience, and emotional safety. I’ve learned that I don’t need a large circle to feel connected—just a few meaningful relationships where I feel seen and supported. Being honest about my needs has also allowed me to deepen those connections and to better show up for others in return. Because I know what it’s like to feel invisible, I consciously try to be present for the people in my life. I listen more closely, approach others patiently, and create space for vulnerability. Compassion and authenticity are strengths, and I bring those qualities into my relationships and communities. This journey has also changed the way I see the world. I’ve become more aware of how many educational, medical, and social systems aren’t designed for people who think, feel, or process the world differently. Rigid school structures, inflexible healthcare approaches, and stigma around mental health often leave neurodivergent people unsupported. I’ve seen how misinformation and lack of access can prevent people from getting help. These realizations have motivated me to speak up and work toward change. I want to help create a world where neurodiversity is accommodated and genuinely valued. With the proper support and understanding, neurodivergent individuals can thrive and bring unique perspectives to every field. I hope to contribute to a more inclusive and compassionate future through writing, advocacy, or education. While I still await a formal diagnosis, I’ve already begun taking steps to support myself. I’ve developed daily routines and coping strategies to manage sensory overload and executive dysfunction. I break tasks into smaller pieces, use visual planners, and rely on calming rituals. I journal to monitor my emotional patterns, and I’ve connected with online communities that remind me I’m not alone. These tools help me feel more grounded and capable, even on difficult days. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than financial support—it would be a powerful affirmation of my progress. It would allow me to continue my education in a way that aligns with my mental health needs and long-term goals. It would most importantly support my commitment to turning personal struggle into meaningful impact. I want to help others feel seen, understood, and empowered, because I know how life-changing that can be. This journey hasn’t been easy. There are still days when anxiety, depression, or sensory overload make life feel harder than it should. But I no longer see myself as broken. I see myself as learning, growing, and building a life, reflecting my identity. I see someone who wants to make a difference, not despite their challenges, but because of them.

How My Mental Health Journey Has Shaped My Goals, Relationships, and Understanding of the World For much of my life, I’ve struggled with challenges I couldn’t fully name—intense anxiety, periods of deep depression, constant difficulty focusing, and overwhelming reactions to everyday sensory experiences. Only recently have I begun to suspect that I may be living with ADHD, autism, and sensory processing disorder. Though I still await formal assessments, this self-awareness has been life-changing. It’s helping me better understand myself, rebuild my confidence, and approach my future with a clearer vision. Through this journey, I’ve come to realize how deeply my mental health has shaped my goals, my relationships, and how I see the world. Growing up, I often felt out of place—like I was constantly trying to keep up in a world that wasn’t built for me. I struggled to focus in school, became easily overwhelmed in loud or chaotic environments, and found social situations draining or confusing. Sometimes, I blamed myself, thinking I was lazy, too sensitive, or not trying hard enough. But now I understand that these experiences may be tied to neurodivergence, and that realization has brought a mix of relief, grief, and empowerment. I’m learning that my brain works differently—and that difference is not a weakness, but a part of who I am. This understanding has reshaped how I set goals for myself. In the past, my goals were based on what I thought I was supposed to do: get perfect grades, stay highly productive, and never show weakness. But pushing myself to meet those expectations burned me out and emotionally drained me. Now, I focus on creating goals that reflect my values: balance, purpose, authenticity, and mental well-being. I want a career where I can help others struggling, perhaps in mental health advocacy, education, writing, or a support role for other neurodivergent individuals. My lived experience has given me insight and compassion that I believe can truly make a difference. Relationships have also changed through this journey. For a long time, I felt misunderstood by others and sometimes misunderstood myself. I struggled to explain why certain things overwhelmed me or why I needed more recovery time after social events. As I began to learn about autism and sensory processing disorder, those patterns started to make more sense. I’ve become more honest about my needs and more selective about who I let into my inner circle. I value relationships rooted in empathy, mutual respect, and emotional safety. At the same time, these experiences have helped me become a better friend, sibling, and community member. I know what it’s like to feel invisible or overwhelmed by things others don’t notice. That’s why I make it a point to listen closely, be present, and show up for others with patience. I believe that vulnerability and compassion are strengths, qualities I try to bring into every connection I make. As I’ve grown more aware of my mental health and neurodivergence, my view of the world has shifted. I’ve seen how many educational, social, and medical systems aren’t designed with people like me in mind. I’ve also seen how stigma, misinformation, and lack of access to care prevent so many from getting the support they need. These realizations have made me passionate about change. I want to help build a world where neurodivergent and mentally ill people are not just accommodated, but celebrated for who they are. While I wait for a formal diagnosis, I’ve begun creating a life that supports me anyway. I’ve implemented tools and routines that help me regulate my sensory input, manage overwhelm, and break tasks into manageable steps. I journal regularly to track my emotional patterns and sensory triggers. I’ve also started connecting with online communities where others share their stories, and that sense of belonging has been incredibly healing. I’ve learned that I don’t need permission to care for myself or advocate for what I need. I can begin now. Receiving this scholarship would not only support me financially, but it would also affirm the progress I’ve made and help me continue my education in a sustainable and meaningful way. I’m committed to turning my experiences into something bigger than myself. I want to help others who feel lost or unseen realize that their struggles do not make them weak. Facing those challenges with honesty and resilience is a kind of strength. This journey has not been easy. There are still days when anxiety, depression, or sensory overload make things feel harder than they should be. But I no longer see myself as broken. I see someone learning, growing, and finding power in their truth. I see someone who wants to make a difference, not despite these experiences, but because of them.

What Empowerment Means to Me and How It Affects My Life To me, empowerment means discovering your voice, owning your identity, and having the confidence and tools to create change, both in your life and in the lives of others. It’s not just about personal strength; it’s about lifting others while you rise. Empowerment is the fuel behind growth, the light that breaks through fear, and the foundation of courage in the face of adversity. Growing up, I didn’t always feel empowered. I sometimes questioned my worth and doubted my ability to achieve anything meaningful. As a teenager, I moved to a new country where I didn’t speak the language well. The unfamiliar environment, cultural barriers, and isolation make me feel invisible and uncertain. I often stayed quiet in classrooms, afraid of making mistakes or being misunderstood. During that time, I first learned how empowerment can come through even the smallest acts of encouragement. One teacher saw something in me before I could see it in myself. She praised my effort, not just my results, and took the time to help me build confidence in my abilities. Slowly, I started speaking up more, participating in class, and setting personal goals. Her belief in me became a turning point—it planted the first seed of empowerment. That experience showed me how powerful it is when someone sees your potential and reminds you that you matter. It also made me realize that empowerment often starts with being seen, heard, and supported. Since then, empowerment has become a central part of how I live my life and how I hope to influence others. I’ve learned that true empowerment isn’t about perfection but progress. It’s recognizing your worth even when you’re still growing. It’s having the courage to take a step forward, even when you’re unsure. And most importantly, it’s about helping others rise with you. In my life, empowerment has helped me become more resilient. It gave me the confidence to pursue leadership opportunities, mentor younger students, and speak up for my beliefs. It taught me that I don’t have to wait for permission to make a difference—I already have what I need to start. Whether helping classmates with their work, supporting a friend through a tough time, or volunteering in my community, I try to be a source of encouragement and strength for others. Empowerment has also shaped my vision for the future. I want to pursue a career where I can give others the same support and inspiration that changed my life. Whether through education, youth development, or community outreach, I want to be someone who helps others recognize their value and potential. I want to create spaces where people feel safe to grow, speak freely, and dream boldly, especially those who have been silenced or overlooked. To me, empowerment is both a gift and a responsibility. I am grateful for the people who empowered me, and I now feel called to pass that on. Every time I encourage someone to believe in themselves, offer support, or celebrate someone’s growth, I know I’m continuing that cycle. Empowerment multiplies—it doesn’t end with us. Ultimately, empowerment is about becoming who you are meant to be and helping others do the same. It has transformed my life from one of quiet uncertainty to one of purpose and strength. And I hope to continue using that strength to lift others, one voice and one step at a time.

Why I Want to Pursue a Career in Education I want to pursue an education career because I believe education is one of the most powerful and lasting ways to transform lives. As someone who has experienced the challenges of adapting to a new environment, I've come to understand that education can be more than just textbooks and exams—it can be a source of hope, stability, and growth. Becoming an educator is not just a career decision; it's a calling rooted in a desire to serve, uplift, and inspire future generations. My passion for education began when I moved to a new country as a teenager. The language barrier, cultural differences, and unfamiliar school system made it one of the most challenging transitions of my life. I often felt isolated and unsure of myself. But during that struggle, one teacher made a lasting impression. She took the time to understand my situation, encouraged me when I felt invisible, and helped me believe in my ability to succeed. That experience made me realize an educator's profound impact on a student's academic, emotional, and spiritual life. That memory has stayed with me and continues to fuel my desire to make a difference. I want to be the kind of educator who sees every student's potential, especially those who feel they don't belong or aren't good enough. Every child deserves to feel seen, heard, and valued in the classroom. I hope to help students build self-confidence and discover their strengths by creating a safe and inclusive learning environment. My desire to enter education is also deeply tied to my faith. I believe that God gives us gifts—not just for our benefit, but to serve others. Teaching is one of the ways I feel called to serve. In the classroom, I see an opportunity to reflect God's love by being patient, kind, and compassionate with my students. I want them to know that they matter, not just because of their grades, but because of who they are. To me, teaching is a form of ministry—one where I can encourage students to grow intellectually and in character. I'm especially passionate about working with students from underserved or marginalized backgrounds. Too often, these students are overlooked or underestimated. I want to advocate for them, support them, and show them that their circumstances do not define their future. I plan to use culturally responsive teaching strategies and engage students in ways that connect to their real-life experiences. I also want to incorporate social-emotional learning into my teaching because education should address the whole person—not just the academic side. Looking ahead, I hope to be more than just a classroom teacher. I want to be a lifelong learner, mentor, and advocate for educational equity. I'm committed to growing as an educator and helping others do the same. Whether through community engagement, after-school programs, or mentorship opportunities, I want to make a lasting contribution that reaches beyond the four walls of a classroom. Ultimately, education is a way to plant seeds that grow for generations. I want to dedicate my life to helping students believe in themselves, pursue their goals, and become compassionate, capable members of society. Through God's guidance and the lessons, I've learned from my journey, I know I can make a difference—one student at a time.

"Guiding Presence: A Calling to Special Education" "I have learned that the purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her presence." – Professor Harold Bloom, Possessed by Memory This quote speaks to the essence of accurate perception—not merely the transfer of knowledge, but a profound, often-frequently sacred act of awakening a student's awareness, identity, worth, and power. Teaching is more than skills or standards; it's about helping students discover who they are and can become.PT resonates deeply with my passion for the special education profession. Students with disabilities often face academic obstacles, but they also confront emotional, communicative, and social barriers that can obscure their sense of self. They frequently bound what they cannot do. As a special education teacher, I want to shift that narrative to help students discover what they can do, and most importantly, who they already are. A Personal Calling My passion for special education comes from both experience and instinct. From an early age, I gravitated toward peers who needed extra patience, support, or encouragement—those often left out or misunderstood. I didn't see them as different; I saw them as full of potential. Over time, I understood that one person who doesn't see a child as a knower can make all the difference. I want to be that person. As I grew older and became more involved in volunteer work, especially through primarily I encountered students with special needs in a variety of outreach programs. Whether I was helping a nonverbal child during Sunday school or working with a teen with ADHD in a youth leadership project, I began to witness their intelligence, resilience, creativity, and humor. I also saw how often the world underestimates them. It became clear to me that this wasn't just a passion—it was a purpose. Teaching special education is not merely a profession to me. It is a mission rooted in faith, compassion, and a fierce belief in the dignity of every child. Bringing Students to Their Sense of Presence To bring students to their "sense of presence," as Professor Bloom describes, is to help them see themselves. It's helping them understand that their thoughts matter, their voices deserve to be heard, and their lives are purposeful. That mission is deeply personal because I have struggled with anxiety myself. I know what it feels like to sit in a room full of people and feel invisible, misunderstood, or paralyzed by self-doubt. I understand how vital it is to have someone believe in you—someone who sees your presence when you feel lost in your mind. My goal as a special education teacher is to be that person for my students: the one who believes in them before they believe in themselves, the one who doesn't see their diagnosis but sees their spirit. How I Will Achieve This Mission To accomplish this, my teaching philosophy centers around five key pillars: 1. Empower Communication in All Forms Many special education students face barriers to expressing themselves. My mission is to help them find their voice—spoken, written, signed, drawn, or communicated through assistive devices. Every child has something to say, and it is my role to listen, validate, and teach others to listen. 2. Create a Safe, Predictable, Loving Environment Presence requires security. I will create a classroom where students feel accepted, seen, and celebrated. When students know they are safe, they take emotional and academic risks. This kind of trust creates the conditions for growth. 3. Design Individualized, Student-Centered Instruction No two students are the same, especially in special education. I will learn each child's learning style, interests, sensory needs, and emotional triggers. I will then design goals and instructional strategies tailored to them, so every child experiences success on their terms. 4. Celebrate Small Victories In special education, growth is not always linear or immediate. But every small win—every new word, every regulated moment, every brave attempt—is a step toward self-belief. Celebrating those steps reinforces their presence and builds pride. 5. Build Partnerships with Families I will work closely with families, recognizing them as the primary experts and advocates for their children. When school and home align, students feel supported and understood, reinforcing their sense of identity and belonging. Fairy Tale: The Garden of Hidden Stars Once upon a time, a young woman named Liora lived in a quiet village surrounded by misty hills. She had a special gift: she could see stars that others could not. While most villagers looked at the night sky and saw only darkness, Liora saw faint, shimmering lights—hidden stars waiting to be seen. In a valley below the village lived children whom the townspeople called "The Dim Ones." They could not speak like other children or play in the same way. Many believed these children were not meant for greatness. Eventually, people stopped visiting them. But Liora didn't feel the whispers. She knew the children weren't dim; they were stars hidden behind mist. So one morning, Liora filled a satchel with books, paintbrushes, songs, and toys and walked into the valley. She didn't talk at first—she listened. She sang their names in songs, drew constellations with their stories, and invited them to paint their stars. Slowly, the valley began to glow. The children found their voices. Some sang. Some danced. Some drew pictures of their dreams. And the villagers looked down in amazement. "The stars," they cried. "They're shining from the valley!" But Liora smiled. The stars had always been there. All they needed was someone who didn't see them as different—someone who believed. Making the Story Real I strive to be Liora in every classroom. While the fairy tale is fictional, the children are real. They live in our neighborhoods, attend our schools, and wait patiently for someone to notice their brilliance. They don't need to be "fixed." They need to be seen. And when they are—when one person shows up who doesn't view them as less—they begin to glow. That's why I'm pursuing this path. I want to enter every classroom with a satchel filled with tools and hope. I want to notice the child hiding in the corner, the one who hasn't spoken in weeks, the one who feels different, and show them that they are not broken. They are beautiful. Final Reflections Education is sacred work. Professor Bloom reminds us that teaching is not just about informing but about revealing. It is to help each child become their own and step out from behind the shadows others have placed them in. As a special education teacher, I will not only teach. I will listen. I will believe. I will advocate. I will show up every day not to fix, but to affirm. I will guide my students toward the sense of presence that says: I am here. I belong. I matter. I want to be someone who doesn't see them as different, because I know that one person can make all the difference.

Using My Education to Make a Difference in My Community I believe education is one of the most powerful tools for creating lasting, positive change, not just in an individual's life, but throughout entire communities. Education is not merely a stepping stone to personal success; it's a responsibility and a calling. As someone who has grown up deeply rooted in my church and committed to volunteering through various outreach programs, I have witnessed the real and tangible ways service, compassion, and human connection can transform lives. Pursuing a college degree is about preparing for my future and equipping myself with the tools and knowledge to give back to the people and places that have helped shape who I am today. My church has been a cornerstone of my upbringing, instilling in me a strong sense of purpose and community responsibility. Through participating in food drives, youth ministries, and community clean-up initiatives, I learned early on that meaningful change starts with consistent but straightforward actions. These experiences have shown me that showing up for others—being present, dependable, and compassionate—can make a difference. More importantly, they taught me that leadership is not always about being in the spotlight; sometimes, it's about being the person who quietly ensures things get done, listens, encourages others, and keeps hope alive. As I look ahead to college, I want to build on those values by developing the academic and professional skills needed to address deeper challenges within my community. One of my main goals is to tackle mental health issues and educational inequality in underserved neighborhoods. Because I have struggled with anxiety myself, I understand the overwhelming fear, isolation, and confusion that often come with mental health challenges. I also know how hard it can be to find support, especially in environments where these issues are misunderstood, minimized, or stigmatized. Far too many people, particularly young people, suffer in silence. I want to change that. Through my education, I hope to raise awareness, reduce stigma, and create networks of support that are both accessible and culturally sensitive. I envision working closely with local churches, schools, and nonprofit organizations to ensure that mental health is treated as a priority, not a taboo. In addition to mental health advocacy, I am especially passionate about youth mentorship. I know young people must have someone who believes in them and sees their potential, even when they may not see it themselves. During difficult moments in my own life, I often wished for more guidance and mentorship. Now, I want to be that source of encouragement and support for others. Using the knowledge and experience I gained in college, I hope to develop mentoring programs focusing on academic support, personal development, and leadership. Whether it's organizing tutoring groups, hosting college preparation workshops, or creating safe spaces for open conversations, I want to help young people realize that their futures are bright and full of possibility. No matter what specific career path I take—whether in counseling, education, nonprofit leadership, or community development—I know that I will stay rooted in the values of service and faith. My education will not be the end goal, but a means to a greater purpose. It will empower me to transform good intentions into meaningful, practical action. Most importantly, I hope to serve as a living example that with faith, education, and a commitment to community, change is not only possible—it's inevitable. I want to inspire others to believe in their ability to make a difference, just as many in my community have inspired me.

My Experience with Anxiety and the Importance of Pursuing a College Degree Living with anxiety has shaped my life in countless ways—some challenging, and others unexpectedly empowering. For as long as I can remember, anxiety has been a quiet but persistent companion. It has influenced how I interact with the world, approach challenges, and even see myself. But it has also taught me resilience, self-awareness, and the value of pushing forward, especially when things feel overwhelming. These lessons are at the heart of why I am determined to pursue a college degree. Anxiety often makes the simplest situations feel monumental. Whether it was speaking up in class, introducing myself to someone new, or facing an unexpected change, I constantly second-guessed myself. My mind would race with “what-ifs,” and I would exhaust myself trying to anticipate every possible outcome to avoid being unprepared. Sometimes I avoided opportunities because of fear of failure, judgment, and not being good enough. These feelings sometimes translated into missed chances or delayed decisions, and for a long time, I believed that maybe I wasn’t cut out for more. However, living with anxiety also meant learning how to navigate life uniquely and intentionally. I’ve had to develop tools and strategies to manage my mental health. I’ve learned how to ground myself during moments of panic, break overwhelming tasks into manageable steps, and most importantly, be patient with myself. Anxiety has taught me empathy—for myself and others—because I’ve learned that everyone carries invisible battles. Pursuing a college degree is not just about academics for me. It’s about proving to myself that I am capable, even when anxiety tells me otherwise. It’s about reclaiming control and pushing beyond the limitations that fear has tried to impose on my life. Going to college represents hope and growth. It represents the chance to build a life I choose, rather than one dictated by fear. Education has always been something I valued deeply. Knowledge is power, not just in a career sense, but in personal development. Through education, I can gain the confidence and skills needed to make a difference, not just in my life but in my community. I want to be someone who contributes, who uplifts others, and who can advocate for mental health awareness because I’ve lived that experience. College is a critical step on that journey. I also recognize that earning a degree will open doors that are currently closed. I want to create a stable future for myself, and I know that higher education will provide me with the tools to do that. Whether it’s working in a field I’m passionate about or simply having the financial independence to live comfortably, my goals are tied to the opportunities that a college education can provide. Most importantly, I want to be an example to my younger self, to others who struggle with anxiety, and maybe someday to my children, that anxiety doesn’t have to stop you from chasing your dreams. It’s OK to be afraid. It’s OK to struggle. But it’s not OK to give up. Pursuing a college degree is a way to honor my progress and keep moving forward, even when the path is difficult. In the end, anxiety is part of my story, but it doesn’t define me. My determination, my goals, and my passion for growth define me. And that’s why pursuing a college degree is not just important—it’s essential to the life I’m working so hard to build.

His name was Mr. Vanhoven, and he taught high school art in a room that felt like it existed outside of time. The moment you stepped through the door, the world seemed to shift, replaced by the scent of turpentine and charcoal dust, the low hum of jazz or folk music floating from an old speaker in the corner, and the quiet, chaotic beauty of creativity in progress. Canvases leaned against every wall, brushes scattered across long, paint-streaked tables, and unfinished sculptures peeked out from behind easels like half-formed thoughts waiting to be realized. It wasn’t just a classroom—it was a kind of sanctuary. Mr. Vanhoven wasn’t the kind of teacher who gave rousing speeches or demanded attention with volume. He didn’t need to. His calm, steady presence made you listen simply because he looked at you like you mattered. And when he looked at your work, really looked, you got the unsettling but profound feeling that he wasn’t just seeing what you’d made. He was seeing you. What set him apart wasn’t just his technical skill, though he had that in spades. He could pick up any medium and make it sing: a charcoal portrait that seemed to breathe, a watercolor that captured light like a photograph. But Mr. Vanhoven never made it about himself. His real genius was in how he treated the creative process. To him, art was never about impressing others. It was about uncovering the truths you didn’t know you were carrying. “The work you’re most afraid to make,” he used to say, “is probably the one you need to make.” That hit me like a thunderclap. One day, I brought in a piece I’d done the night before, something safe, polished, unremarkable. I just wanted a decent grade. Mr. Vanhoven studied it quietly, then looked at me and asked, “Is this your voice, or just your hand?” I didn’t know how to answer. I still think about that question. It haunted me in the best way. Because from that moment on, I stopped trying to get it “right” and started trying to get it real. He didn’t hand out praise casually. If your perspective was off, he told you. If your composition lacked soul, he didn’t sugarcoat it. But when he said, “This has something real in it,” it meant everything because you knew he wasn’t just being nice. He saw past the technique. He saw intention. He saw effort. He saw honesty. Under his guidance, I learned something that’s stayed with me far beyond the art room: creativity isn’t about being the best in the room. It’s about being honest in the room. Vulnerable, even. Willing to fail in front of others in the hope of finding something true. Mr. Vanhoven didn’t just teach me how to draw or paint. He taught me how to look inward. How to listen to the quiet voice that says, This matters to me, even when the world isn’t watching. He changed how I approach art—and even more profoundly, how I approach life. Because of him, I no longer see life as a performance to perfect. I see it as a canvas—messy, imperfect, layered with mistakes and second tries. But always open to being reshaped, reimagined, and made meaningful.

Growing up, I faced challenges that forced me to mature quickly, but they also helped me discover my strength and purpose. One of the most defining moments in my life was when my dad had a stroke. Overnight, everything changed—emotionally, financially, and personally. My family went from stability to survival, and I knew I had to step up. At 16, I got my first job, working night shifts on weekends. I decided not to work during the week because I care deeply about my education and want to give my full attention to school. Balancing work, school, and responsibilities at home has been hard, but it's taught me time management, sacrifice, and the importance of long-term goals. These experiences have shaped my motivation to pursue higher education. I may be entering college undeclared, but I'm not entering without direction. I want the freedom to explore different fields, discover where my passion and skills align, and find the area where I can make the most excellent, most significant, and know what it feels like to struggle. I also know how education can be a key to stability and opportunity, not just for me but for my family and others like us. Despite the challenges, I've stayed committed to my academics. I'm a member of the National Honor Society and the National Society of High School Scholars—achievements that reflect my dedication and perseverance. I am deeply involved in my local church community at Faith Journey United Methodist Church, where my father is the pastor. My parents have instilled in me the importance of helping others, and this is a core value I live by. I attend church every Sunday and volunteer for various church events, including chicken BBQs and roast beef dinners. I pitch in wherever needed, whether taking orders, packaging meals, or running errands in the kitchen. These events bring the church together and serve our community in meaningful ways. One of my most significant volunteer commitments is at Cradle and Beyond 2.0, a thrift store run by our church. This store serves as the mission arm of Faith Journey UMC, helping those in need by providing clothing and household items. The store also donates goods to local organizations and supports resettling refugees and others, offering them a safe place to access necessities without judgment or cost. I help with sorting, organizing, and preparing items for sale, ensuring that those who come to us for help feel seen and supported. In addition, we offer a welcoming space for anyone who needs assistance and ensure they don't feel alone in their struggles. Beyond my work at the thrift store, I assist with Sunday school, where I aim to help younger children understand the teachings of the Bible. Helping others has always been my central theme, and my faith provides the foundation for service. My involvement in these activities strengthens my sense of community and allows me to contribute to individuals within the context of the community in which I live. College is not just my next step—it's a turning point. It's my chance to build a better future, not only for myself but also for the people I hope to serve. I've faced obstacles that could have held me back, but they've pushed me forward. They've taught me how to persevere, lead, and care deeply about the world around me. I'm ready to take this next step, even if I don't have all the answers yet. With my work ethic, values, and life experience, I'll find my purpose and use it to make a meaningful impact.

Finding Belonging Through a Week Away Movies often transport us to new worlds, inspire deep reflection, and sometimes even change how we see ourselves and others. No film has had a greater impact than the Netflix original movie A Week Away. More than just a musical, it became a powerful reminder of hope, second chances, and the importance of community and faith during a time in my life when I needed it most. A Week Away tells the story of Will Hawkins, a troubled teenager at a crossroads: juvenile detention or a Christian summer camp. Choosing the latter, Will enters a world he's unfamiliar with—one filled with kindness, uplifting music, and people who believe in second chances. As he opens his heart, he discovers love, forgiveness, and a sense of belonging that he never thought possible. How deeply I connected with Will's journey made this film life-changing. Like him, I've faced moments where I felt out of place or burdened by mistakes and uncertainty. Watching, Will finds hope through the support of others, and the messages in music reminded me that I'm not alone. The film's positive portrayal of faith wasn't preachy but sincere, accessible, and emotionally resonant. It reminded me that sometimes, healing begins when we let people in and allow ourselves to believe that we're worthy of love and a new beginning. The music also played a massive role in how the film impacted me. Songs like "Where I Belong" and "Let's Go Make a Memory" were more than just catchy tunes—they spoke directly to my heart. They encouraged me to see life as a series of obstacles and an opportunity to grow, connect, and celebrate the present moment. In a world where many movies focus on drama or destruction, A Week Away dares to be joyful and redemptive. It reminded me that faith can be a source of strength and that we all deserve a place to belong, no matter where we come from. That message has stayed with me, influencing how I approach challenges, friendships, and my journey. In conclusion, A Week Away is more than just a movie. It's a story that has helped me rediscover hope and joy; it has helped me see myself in a new light. It is a message of love, grace, and transformation that I carry daily, making it the most impactful film I have experienced. It is one of the many lessons I will continue learning.

Mental health is significant to me as a student because it directly affects how I learn, interact with others, and cope with challenges in and out of the classroom. Like many students, I've faced struggles with anxiety, and I suspect it may be related to autism or ADHD. But finding help hasn't been easy; long waitlists, insurance issues, and the overwhelming cost of care have made the process even more difficult. This personal experience has opened my eyes to how broken the mental health system is in the United States, especially for young people who are just trying to get the support they need. The mental health system in the U.S. is a complex web that includes early intervention, treatment, recovery support, and behavioral health care. But despite its importance, the system is often inaccessible to the people who need it most. Conditions like anxiety, depression, ADHD, bipolar disorder, and substance use are widespread. Yet, barriers like high costs, a shortage of providers, and a lack of insurance continue to stand in the way. I've experienced firsthand how hard it can be to find a provider who accepts our insurance, and I feel comfortable talking to them. Some waitlists stretch on for more than a year. As a student, I've realized that mental health isn't just something that affects individuals. It affects our entire community. That's why I advocate for mental health by speaking openly about my experiences and encouraging others to do the same. At school and home, I try to reduce the stigma by reminding people that it's OK not to be OK and that they're not alone in what they're going through. Small actions can significantly impact whether checking in with friends, sharing resources, or even having honest conversations. I also support broader changes to our mental health system. Some of the most essential reforms include integrating mental health with primary care, expanding access to telehealth services, addressing the shortage of mental health professionals, and improving insurance coverage. I firmly believe that prevention and early intervention are key. Mental illness runs in my family, and I've seen how delayed diagnoses like my dad's bipolar disorder can make things worse. We need systems that catch these issues early and offer affordable help. I also believe in the power of peer support. Hearing from someone who has been through the same things you're going through helps you realize you're not alone. It shifts your mindset and gives you hope. That's why I think schools and communities should invest in collaborative mental health programs and crisis response services that are accessible to everyone. In conclusion, mental health is essential to me because it affects every part of my life, from academics to relationships to my future. Advocating for better mental health care is personal, and I'll continue to speak out about it until change happens. Reforming the system won't be easy, but we can make a difference by raising our voices, supporting one another, and pushing for real solutions. Everyone deserves the chance to feel seen, heard, and supported because mental health matters.

I exemplify a spirit of excellence in my everyday life by striving for continuous growth and improvement in everything I do. Whether personally or professionally, I set high standards for myself and aim to deliver quality work with integrity and dedication. This includes punctuality, taking initiative, and maintaining a positive attitude, even during challenging times. I also believe in constantly learning through formal education, reading, or engaging with others, which helps me adapt to new situations and stay at the top of my game. This ongoing effort ensures that I constantly evolve as a person and a member of society. In giving back to my community, I make a point to contribute meaningfully. I volunteer regularly with local organizations, offering my time and skills to help those in need. I also support charitable causes, whether through donations or spreading awareness about critical social issues. Additionally, I mentor younger individuals, sharing my experiences and guiding them to make informed decisions and pursue their passions. By doing so, I hope to create a ripple effect of positivity and inspiration that encourages others to embrace excellence and contribute to the well-being of those around them. Helping others isn't just a one-time act for me; it's a constant, deliberate choice that reflects my values. My parents instilled in me the principle that helping others is a way of life, and I carry this lesson daily. I volunteer at events like chicken BBQs and roast beef dinners, ensuring everything runs smoothly. My faith and commitment to my church's mission statement, "Seek, Serve, & Share God with others," also significantly influence how I live. I'm dedicated to making a difference through service within my church and community. I believe "no one cares about what you know until they know you care." I apply this belief in all my interactions and volunteer efforts. I'm deeply involved in my local church community. This involvement allows me to live out my faith while helping others meaningfully. I attend church every Sunday and volunteer for various church events. Whether taking orders, packaging meals, or assisting in the kitchen, I can help wherever needed. These events significantly serve our community and bring the church family closer together, strengthening our bond. One of my most significant volunteer roles is at Cradle and Beyond 2.0, a thrift store run by our church. The store serves as the mission arm of Faith Journey, providing clothing and household items to those in need. It also supports local organizations and resettling refugees, offering a safe, judgment-free place to access necessities. I help by sorting and organizing items for sale, ensuring those who come to the store feel seen and supported. Additionally, I assist with Sunday school, helping younger children understand the Bible's teachings and the relevance of Bible stories in their lives. Last year, I had the privilege of supporting a couple of teenagers through their confirmation process, and it was rewarding to watch them reach this milestone. These opportunities provide me with a deep sense of fulfillment. One of the most impactful acts of kindness I have been part of was when I began cleaning for a homebound older woman with mobility and memory issues. I would clean her home every two weeks and spend time with her. Though she always tried to pay me, I refused, as the relationship and shared moments were far more valuable than money. This simple act of kindness brightened her day, and in turn, it brightened mine. Thank you for this opportunity to apply for this scholarship.

Success is not defined by a singular achievement or a moment in time but rather by a continuous process of growth, learning, and making a meaningful contribution to the lives of others. Success is about engaging in work that challenges me intellectually, creatively, and emotionally; It pushes me to evolve and grow. Success involves refining my abilities, expanding, and positively impacting the world, which instilled in me the idea that helping others is a way of life. As a member of the United Methodist Church, my faith and commitment to my local church's mission statement, "Seek God, Serve God, & Share God with others," are the guiding forces that drive my actions and shape my worldview. I am committed to making a difference through service, both in my church and in my community. As I attend Roberts Wesleyan University, I plan to continue my service, combining my passion for helping others with the knowledge I will obtain from my studies and spiritual growth. I firmly believe that "No one cares about what you know until they know you care." I want to show people that I care about them and their well-being Every step forward is a form of success, no matter how small, whether it's a new skill learned, a problem solved, or an understanding deepened by my actions. Success is about becoming better than I was yesterday. It's not about reaching a destination but embracing the process and striving for continuous improvement. My faith teaches me that growth is not solely a personal endeavor but a communal journey. I view each opportunity as an opportunity to become more equipped to serve others, whether in my personal life, career, or role within the church. I seek success as a holistic journey, not as an isolated pursuit. Offering active listening, solving problems, or simply being supportive allows me to change the world. Knowing that I can make someone's day easier or help them see things differently gives me a deep sense of accomplishment. In my faith, serving others is an extension of loving God and following Christ's example. By caring for others, I reflect love and grace. Another key component of success is adaptability. The world constantly changes at the speed of light; success involves adapting to new ideas and learning to navigate uncertainty and adversity. Applying life's lessons to new situations is critical for long-term success. In the twenty-first century, success involves remaining flexible, embracing new challenges, and continuously growing. It is beneficial to view challenges as opportunities for developing resilience and character. By accepting change and adapting to life's unpredictability, one can become more effective in serving others and better attuned to broader goals. I understand that continual adaptation and growth are achievable through engaging in impactful work, whether through thoughtful discussions or addressing complex challenges. Each interaction with individuals allows me to enhance my knowledge, sharpen my skills, and contribute positively. Collaborating with others in meaningful ways enables me to refine my understanding of how to serve people and communities effectively. My goal is to make a significant impact and recognize that success in life is not merely a prize to be won but rather a continuous development process. I am not just an individual on a journey, but I am part of a larger world to serve others and to help transform the lives of others. This time in my life offers me endless opportunities to test new ideas, push the boundaries of what is possible, and experiment with new approaches to life's challenges. This constant learning process helps me stay on track with my larger goal of self-reflection and growth. Success, as I understand it, is the opportunity to continuously teach myself to grow, serve others, and adapt to new challenges—these are three pillars central to my vision of success. Every step toward these goals brings me closer to achieving a more profound sense of fulfillment and meaning, making this journey as important as the destination. Through my faith, service, and commitment to lifelong growth, I am confident that I can make a lasting impact on those around me. In conclusion, success combines personal growth, service to others, and adaptability, all intertwined with my faith and beliefs. Each step in this journey, big or small, is an opportunity to fulfill my purpose and positively impact the world. By embracing all these world faces, I believe I can achieve significant success that benefits me and enriches the lives of those around me. Success is the heartbeat of growth, change, and improving this world.

My mental health journey started at a young age with separation anxiety. I am an only child, so I was close to my parents. Every time they would leave on a trip for work, my separation anxiety was worse. The first couple of nights would always be hard because I would always work myself up into anxiety and vomiting. My separation anxiety has been much better as I have grown up. I can usually talk myself out of it. At the end of my sophomore year of high school, I experienced multiple anxiety-provoking events. These events led to my being diagnosed with anxiety. The first time I experienced an anxiety attack was after I had to leave my old friend groups. They were making fun of me and talking behind my back, so I thought, why not move cafeterias? That didn’t go as planned because they followed, leading up to my attack. I started to feel claustrophobic. My heart was racing, and everything was amplified. I walked away and went to my next class. I didn’t want to sit still or be in that room, and I just thought I was overstimulated. I texted my parents, and my dad explained to me that I had an anxiety attack. The second anxiety-provoking event was in my last block of school, and it was a food prep class. Over a couple of weeks, these boys started to make inappropriate comments. They began to make advances at me. The one cornered me and held a whisk down there like it was supposed to be a joke, but I didn’t take it that way. Then I was putting dishes away and cleaning counters, and they decided to try and look up my leggings. I went to my guidance counselor because I was distraught over their inappropriate behavior. She just brushed it off and said, “Pursuing the boys would be a waste of time.” She wouldn’t even let me fill out the form to report it because she claimed it was the day before break, and no one would remember after we returned from leave. We were just doing bookwork, so nothing happened. The third anxiety-provoking event was at the beginning of my junior year. The first couple of classes in my art class started okay, but these eight sophomores began asking me personal questions. I tried to shut it down because I had a boyfriend then, but nothing seemed to work. They started recording me without permission, so I went to the Dean and filled out a form to report it. That didn’t do too much up until I had to see her again. That took care of it, but a couple of classes later, one of the boys tried to take my phone and say it was his, and I also went and reported that. My phone had become my safety object because I knew I had a way out of a situation if I had it. Towards the end of my junior year, I broke up with my boyfriend, and that was one of the best things I did. He told me that my confirmation into the church was stupid and that my anxiety was not a thing. And all in all, it was because of him. I got depressed for months because I felt like I was stuck. I didn’t have the freedom I wanted. Little did I know that my so-called best friend would ditch me after I broke up with him. They both then decided to confront me in the hallway, and that threw me into an anxiety attack. I hate confrontation, and I just didn’t want to deal with them. I have had a couple of minor anxiety attacks at work, but nothing like some of these I have mentioned. I will never be able to forget my first anxiety attack. I am in treatment with medication and therapy once a week. I have been in therapy for two years, and I have been on a couple of different medications to help with my anxiety and depression. I recently got taken off one of my meds because it wasn’t doing anything, and it was just counteracting my other med. My therapist and psychiatrist guided me to advocate for myself and set up a 504 plan with my school to help me overcome my experiences. Mental health runs in my family, and my dad went undiagnosed for years even though he had a bunch of the symptoms. My goal is to go to college, get a degree, and continue in therapy and medications that will help me throughout my life. Medication without treatment is not sustainable. This scholarship will continue to help me learn and grow about who I am and my place in this world.

My story began in my elementary and middle school years. I struggled with reading and was put into an AIS reading help. Being in academic intervention services has helped me gain confidence and improve my reading levels. In elementary school, my parents also had me in private tutoring to help improve my skills and get me to focus. I have had a 504 plan for the past few years, which has been instrumental in my academic journey, providing me with the support I needed to succeed despite my anxiety. This invaluable support has helped me navigate my academic challenges and build a strong foundation for my future. I experienced two different anxiety-provoking events in my high school career. This led to my being diagnosed with anxiety. I am in treatment with medication and therapy for this. My therapist guided me to advocate and set up a 504 plan with my school to help me overcome my experiences. My 504 plan allows me to have extra time while taking tests. It allows me to go to a quiet testing site for the best possible results. Not stressing about finishing on time makes me calmer and more relaxed, and it helps me do my best. Being put in a quiet room for testing allows me to maintain focus and put my best foot forward in getting and keeping my grades. My 504 plan has inspired me to pursue college and further my education. The personalized support and tailored resources have helped me build confidence in my abilities. My teachers and parents have always encouraged me to strive for my best, motivating me to aim higher and consider college as the next step in my journey. The individualized attention and customized learning plans have shown me that with the proper support, I can achieve my goals and continue to develop my skills further. Dealing with this has led me to be on a year-long waiting list to be tested for ADHD and autism. I am still waiting in my area to get this testing done to see if more can be done and added to my 504, which will help me even further to get the best education possible. One of the universities I am considering attending in the fall said they could do the testing there on campus and update my accommodations if needed based on the testing yields. Facing challenges and difficulties, especially managing my anxiety, has taught me resilience, perseverance, and determination. These experiences have made me stronger and more determined to succeed. Overcoming obstacles has given me a unique perspective and empathy for others facing similar struggles, which I believe will be valuable in my personal and professional life. I struggle in my part-time after-school job as accommodations don't apply in the real world. I have learned to adapt and find solutions to problems, making me more confident handling future challenges. I have advocated for myself to my managers, taking me out of the anxiety-producing role of waitress/server to now being a hostess, which causes me less stress and less anxiety, making it easier for me to cope. This allows me to live a more normal life while dealing with anxiety and other challenges that have shaped my life. This journey has also given me a deeper understanding of others' struggles, fostering empathy and compassion. In conclusion, my 504 plan and my experiences with challenges have prepared me well for the future. I am grateful for your support and excited to continue my education and pursue my goals. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to this possibility. One step closer to a university that would continue the 504 and adapt it when testing is completed for ADHD and autism. The lessons I've learned from overcoming challenges have equipped me with the skills and confidence needed for my future endeavors.