Attending college is an act of breaking barriers and investing in myself. As the first in my family to pursue a four-year degree, I take this opportunity and privilege to expand my knowledge and qualifications as a responsibility. My parents had always emphasized hard work and the possibly of success no matter what that looks like. University is the representation of the sacrifices of those before, and the chance to create a new expectation and open door for my family. It is the opportunity to start a legacy centered on education and purpose. It is the application of values long held by my family paired with opportunity. University is beyond the degree, it is a place to grow as a person, connect with likeminded people, and expand my concept of society, all while fine tuning by strengths. Studying computer science allows me to combine creativity, logic, and problem-solving to make an impact. I'm drawn to technology and its ever-changing advancements. I'm drawn to the way it can completely change a society, the way it is improving quality of living, advancing systems in healthcare, and creating the foundations of what we consider necessities. Computer Science much like university is a foundation of many aspects of life, and something to be explored and built on top of. I want to accomplish something that is beyond my own expectation. I want to become train and well equipped in a field. I aspire to grow into a person I admire, one who is a leader, one who is filled with compassion, integrity, curiosity, and drive. I want to find people who challenge me to think outside the box, to dream bigger, and commit more, and university gives me the chance to do just that. I see university as a steppingstone, one that assists me toward a meaningful life where I am fulfilled. Through research, internships, and collaborative projects I am slowly being prepared to succeed in serving my future communities, my future family, and make an impact in people's lives. Every assignment, lecture, and morning where I climb out of bed is all towards the goal of a new path and a new normal, not just for me but my family. Freedom, growth, knowledge, and opportunity is all at the hand of sacrifice, endurance, and dedication. I not only plan to walk through this open door but also leave it open for others to follow.

A rugby family represents belonging, accountability, and mutual respect. It’s a community where effort is valued as much as skill, and where teammates push each other not just to play better, but to be better. A rugby family doesn’t rely on individual talent—it thrives on unity, resilience, and shared goals. Throughout my life, I’ve explored many sports: gymnastics, wrestling, volleyball, and soccer. Each challenged me in different ways, but none of them had the same initial impact as rugby. Despite my Polynesian heritage, I didn’t grow up playing the sport. It wasn’t until 2024, while I was in New Zealand, that I first held a rugby ball. I had made friends out there and they were surprised that I had never touched a rugby ball, let alone play a game, and they took it upon themselves to teach me the basics of a 7s touch match. At first, it was confusing and uncomfortable, but seeing the love they had for the sport, I kept trying. And then, months later, as a first-year student at San Diego State University, I was searching for a way to stay active. I had considered joining soccer again as I played all through high school, until I came across a group of girls tabling for the women’s rugby team on campus. Back home, the closest rugby program was hours away, so this felt like a rare opportunity to explore something new. I went to the first open practice with no expectations, but I was immediately welcomed. The team’s energy was competitive, yet supportive. Everyone was focused on improving, but no one was left behind. Since joining the team, rugby has become more than just a sport to me. It’s a consistent space where I can challenge myself physically and mentally while being surrounded by people who genuinely care about each other. The structure of rugby, the communication, the physical intensity, the reliance on trust, has taught me discipline and patience. It’s also given me a better understanding of what real teamwork looks like: pushing and challenging each other out of love rather than hateful competition. My first 7s tournament was a defining experience. I was nervous, inexperienced, and worried about making mistakes. But my teammates’ encouragement made all the difference. They not only celebrated the try I had, but all the small wins throughout the day. Looking ahead, my hope for playing rugby in college is to continue developing as both an athlete and a teammate. I want to strengthen my skills, contribute to my team’s success, and help maintain the welcoming, hardworking culture that drew me in. To be a cornerstone for these women to lean on and build off of.

It’s easy to have faith when you have backup plans for your backup plans. But when you’re staring at your situation knowing only God can change it, you’re left face-to-face with the beauty of your own weakness. I used to believe every challenge I faced was given to me because God thought I was strong enough to handle it. But after entering the mission field and experiencing situations I never imagined, I realized my challenges weren’t given because of my strength, but because of my weakness. After high school, I joined a program with Youth With A Mission (YWAM), where I studied theology, learned how to share the Gospel, and discovered how to trust my own discernment. Following my training, I felt led to partner with a few others to start a discipleship school in Fiji, training young Fijians who were eager to become messengers of the Gospel overseas. We had a vision, a call, a start date just a few months away—and faith. Yet, in the world’s standards, we had almost nothing: no confirmed students, no building, no money, and no set plan. But as we took one step of faith after another, we watched God move in ways we couldn’t have planned. We were gifted an old school building, received sponsors, and welcomed students ranging in age from 18 to 42. We named our school “Fishes and Loaves,” because everyone brought what little they had, and we trusted God to multiply it for His glory. Miracles became part of our daily life. There were days I stared into an almost-empty fridge wondering how we’d feed 30 people for the entire week with only 100 Fijian dollars—only for someone to show up at our door with bags of cassava, asking if we were “that Christian school that just started.” Another time, our students and staff prayed for funds for our outreach, and the very next day, a local businessman and celebrity asked for a tour offered to sponsor us. I remember sitting in my room, asking God why He would send a 17-year-old girl to lead and mentor older students when I felt so unqualified. That same day, an elder told me I was exactly who the school needed, someone who defied expectations and reminded others that when something impossible happens, it’s clear that God is at work. That’s when I truly understood that I’m not called because I’m strong or capable, but because I’m weak—and in that weakness, God’s power is made visible.