The room was filled with the sound of scribbling pencils, erasing, and the quiet clicking of the clock. Sitting in my favorite classroom, surrounded by my favorite teacher and some of my best friends, we wrote our last literary analysis for AP English Literature. The essay analyzed the poem The Man with the Saxophone, and while the main theme centered on how human connection brings color to an otherwise dull life, my focus was different. I wrote about the cyclic nature of human lives. Weeks later, my teacher told me it was the best essay I had written in the two years I had class with her, even showcasing it to a university. While my essay developed the poem’s main themes, it also reflected something I believed to be absolute: that people are bound to repeat the patterns set before them. I believed children would inevitably follow the same cycles as their parents, whether they wanted to or not. However, that belief began to change in the summer after I graduated and even more so as I entered college. Growing up, I had seen cycles of addiction, stress, and hardship in my family. For a long time, those patterns felt unavoidable, as if they were built into my life. But as I experienced my own mental health struggles and began to understand them more deeply, I realized the cycles I believed were permanent were not unbreakable. They were patterns that could be understood, challenged, and changed. Coming to college was the first time I truly felt that shift. I was surrounded by people who brought joy, support, and genuine connection into my life. The same way the poem described color being brought into something dull, my life began to take shape. I found friendships that encouraged and challenged me in ways I had not experienced. Being away from home also allowed me to appreciate it in ways I never had. I began understanding that where I came from did not have to limit where I was going. That realization is what I want to build my future around. My future will not only break the cycles I grew up in, but help others recognize they are not trapped within them. Through my education in biochemistry, I am building the foundation to pursue pharmaceutical research, specializing in addiction and treatments to address it. In some ways, I am continuing a path connected to my father, who also participated in research in his undergraduate career. However, I am reshaping that path, choosing to build something other than the struggles that affected my family. While I want to build treatments to help those who cannot help themselves, I also want to build a bridge between human connection and science. College has shown me what life can look like when it is filled with connection, purpose, and possibility. If my younger self believed life was cyclical, my present self believes something different. Cycles can, and will, be broken, and futures can be built.

Substance abuse has been present in my life in multiple ways, both through my own experiences and through the people closest to me. Growing up, addiction was not something distant or abstract. My father struggled with alcoholism, and several of my siblings faced substance use challenges during their teenage years. Most significantly, my older brother’s struggle with addiction had a profound impact on my understanding of both substance abuse and recovery. As a child, my brother was one of the most important people in my life. He made learning fun, encouraged my curiosity, and was someone I deeply admired. Watching him slowly change as addiction took hold was confusing and painful. The person who had once been so present in my life began to feel distant, and eventually he left our home. That experience reshaped my understanding of addiction. It was no longer something I heard about in passing. It was something that affected my family, our relationships, and our sense of stability. At the same time, I began to struggle with my own mental health. During middle school, particularly during the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic, I felt disconnected and overwhelmed. I turned to alcohol as a way to cope with those feelings. What started as an attempt to feel something other than numbness became a pattern of drinking alone and avoiding responsibilities. Although that period was relatively short, it marked the beginning of a relationship with alcohol that I did not fully understand at the time. After my junior year of high school, those patterns returned in a different form. The pressure of academics, work, and planning for my future became overwhelming, and I again turned to alcohol as a way to manage stress. What began as occasional drinking quickly became more frequent, and I found myself relying on it in unhealthy ways. During that time, I realized how easily I was following a path similar to what I had witnessed in my family. The motivation to become sober came from a combination of fear and clarity. I saw where that path could lead, and I knew I did not want my life to follow the same trajectory. I also began to recognize how much I was losing by continuing those behaviors—my focus, my health, and my sense of direction. With support from those around me and a renewed commitment to my goals, I made the decision to stop drinking and begin rebuilding healthier habits. Since becoming sober, my life has changed significantly. I have been able to reconnect with my passion for learning and pursue my academic goals with clarity and purpose. I challenged myself academically, invested time into tutoring and mentoring others, and began preparing for a future in scientific research. Most importantly, I learned how to cope with stress in healthier ways and how to face challenges directly rather than avoiding them. My experiences with substance abuse have also shaped my long-term goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and plan to pursue pharmaceutical research focused on addiction and neurological diseases. I have seen how deeply addiction can affect individuals and families, but I have also seen how recovery and effective treatment can change lives. Sobriety, for me, is not just about avoiding alcohol. It is about choosing a path that allows me to grow, remain present, and work toward a future where I can help others facing similar struggles.

My experience with mental health has shaped not only my goals, but also the way I understand people, relationships, and the world around me. For a long time, I did not have the language to describe what I was feeling. I only knew that something had shifted. What once felt natural, like learning, connecting with others, and moving through daily routines, slowly became difficult. In eighth grade, when school transitioned entirely online, that shift became impossible to ignore. Without the structure of classrooms, the presence of teachers, or the comfort of seeing friends each day, I felt myself becoming increasingly isolated. The subjects I once loved began to feel overwhelming, and assignments that would have taken minutes started to feel like impossible tasks. It was the first time I experienced what it meant to feel disconnected not only from others, but from myself. At the same time, my home life was changing in ways I could not fully understand. My older brother, who had always been one of the most important people in my life, was beginning to struggle with addiction. Growing up, we were inseparable. He was the one who made learning feel like a game, turning multiplication into something fun and teaching me in ways that made me curious about the world. Watching him slowly lose himself to substance abuse felt like watching someone I loved disappear while still being physically present. That experience deeply changed how I viewed the world. It forced me to confront the reality that mental health and addiction are not distant issues, but ones that can affect the people closest to you. It also made me realize how little we often understand about what others are going through. From the outside, it is easy to judge or misunderstand, but from within, the experience is far more complex. That realization stayed with me. During this time, I also began to struggle with my own mental health in ways I had not before. I felt overwhelmed, uncertain, and unsure of how to cope with the pressure I was experiencing both academically and personally. I turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms, including drinking, as a way to feel something other than the numbness I was experiencing. At first, it felt like a temporary escape, but over time it became something I relied on more than I wanted to admit. There were moments where I recognized the path I was on and how closely it mirrored what I had seen in my brother. That recognition was both frightening and motivating. I realized that if I continued in that direction, I risked losing the future I had been working toward. With support from the people around me and a growing sense of responsibility toward myself, I made the decision to step away from those habits and begin rebuilding healthier ways of coping. Recovery was not immediate or simple. It required me to confront my own behaviors, understand my emotions, and learn how to manage stress without relying on avoidance. However, through that process, I began to rediscover parts of myself that I thought I had lost. I found my way back to learning, not as something I had to do, but as something I genuinely wanted to pursue. I challenged myself academically, enrolled in advanced courses, and began to take pride in my progress again. My experiences also changed the way I approach relationships. I no longer assume that I understand what someone else is going through based on what I can see. Instead, I try to lead with empathy and patience. Whether I am tutoring students, mentoring younger athletes, or simply supporting friends, I aim to create spaces where people feel safe to be honest about their struggles. I have learned that sometimes the most meaningful support comes not from solving someone’s problems, but from making sure they do not feel alone in facing them. Perhaps most importantly, my experience with mental health has given me a sense of purpose. I am currently studying biochemistry with the goal of pursuing pharmaceutical research focused on addiction and neurological diseases. My interest in this field is not only academic, but deeply personal. I have seen how addiction can alter a person’s life, and I have also seen how recovery and treatment can restore it. I want to contribute to research that helps people regain control of their lives and gives families hope in situations that often feel hopeless. Mental health has reshaped my understanding of the world. It has shown me that strength is not the absence of struggle, but the willingness to face it. It has taught me that people are more complex than they appear, and that compassion is often more important than judgment. While these experiences were difficult, they have ultimately given me direction, resilience, and a deeper understanding of both myself and others. Rather than defining me by my lowest moments, my experience with mental health has become the foundation for who I am today. It has shaped the way I build relationships, the goals I pursue, and the impact I hope to have. Through my education and future career, I want to help create a world where people feel understood, supported, and capable of overcoming the challenges they face.

Seated cross-legged on the living room carpet, I feverishly tore into my presents, each adorned with a tag inscribed “To: Ladybug,” my cherished nickname. However, nestled at the tree's base lay a small cluster of meticulously wrapped packages, their shiny bows glistening in the glow of the tree lights, each labeled for my older brother. Too enthralled by my gifts, I misinterpreted the disconsolate glances exchanged between my parents, assuming they were weary from the long day. It wasn’t until the ephemeral joy faded that I realized the gifts for Dylan remained untouched, a silent attempt to fill the space he had left behind. Dylan and I were inseparable, often called carbon copies of each other. Instead of watching me wrestle with multiplication tables, he would play “war,” cleverly weaving math into our battles. He would play catch with me in the backyard when nobody else braved the bitter chill. Eventually, Dylan began to spend more time with his friends, often returning in the early morning hours. One night, I found him sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes unfocused and hair tangled, and he did not look up as I passed. The next morning, Dylan disappeared, eventually resurfacing in Pennsylvania, where we learned he had begun his struggle with substance abuse. Once a place for holidays and laughter, the kitchen table began to shake under the weight of piling bills, and the night air grew thick with my parents’ whispered arguments. Watching someone you love slowly lose themselves to addiction changes the way you see the world. For me, it mingled with my underlying adoration for science, and I questioned “why?”. What brain functions are overpowered by the substances that my brother had consumed and why had they controlled him so much that his will, relationships, and future were completely altered? Today, I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry with the goal of working in pharmaceutical research, studying the biochemical and neurological mechanisms of addiction and developing therapies that can help people recover from substance dependence. Addiction is often discussed as a moral failing, but the science behind it is one I have just began to understand as processes in neurochemistry, receptor signaling, and interactions between environment and biology. Understanding those mechanisms is the first step toward designing treatments that can truly help people regain control of their lives. My path toward that goal is already taking shape. As an undergraduate, I have secured a position in a research laboratory beginning next semester, where I will gain hands-on experience in biochemical research. I also plan to further pursue internships, research collaborations, and extracurricular opportunities that will allow me to deepen my understanding of pharmacology and neuroscience. These experiences will prepare me for graduate study and, ultimately, a career dedicated to developing therapies that address addiction and related neurological disorders. My parents were never given the opportunity to pursue higher education, and supporting my own education has been a challenge. Financial strain may even require me to transfer schools in order to continue pursuing my degree. However, these challenges have only strengthened my determination as education is not a simple aspiration, but a required pathway to make a tangible difference in the lives of people like my brother. Science gives us the tools to understand the mechanisms behind suffering, but more importantly, it gives us the power to change outcomes. By pursuing a career in pharmaceutical research, I hope to contribute to discoveries that transform addiction from a cycle of loss into a pathway toward recovery.

A home filled with seven children, both parents and several pets would seem like a full house to most who peered through. However, to my family and I, the house seems rather empty. Growing up, my mother’s best friend, Kelly, and her children had spent years both figuratively and literally living in our home. Through floods that required their family to stay with ours to late nights spent building pipe-cleaner flowers that Kelly had taught us how to do, her family had become part of mine. The pipe-cleaner flowers had been a skill Kelly learned in the hospital through her chemotherapy treatments during her first round of cancer. Kelly had battled breast cancer in her thirties and while the process was absolutely difficult, she defeated it and returned to a life of joy and endless humour she seemed to exude. However, years later, cancer had made a return. Only this time, the cancer was not purely breast cancer, but it had metastasized to her brain and had become stage IV brain cancer. The following months were full of treatments and support from everyone around her. Despite the continuous efforts, the cancer grew quickly and Kelly was no longer herself. The brain cancer led to memory recollection difficulties and difficulty with basic functions. However, even at the end of her life, she delighted everyone with her jokes and everyone around her remained laughing. Watching someone I loved change so quickly was one of the first times I truly understood how devastating cancer can be. As a child, I did not fully grasp the medical complexity of what was happening, but I could see the effects it had on Kelly and on the people around her. The woman who had once spent evenings laughing with us and teaching us how to make pipe-cleaner flowers slowly lost the ability to remember simple things. It was confusing and heartbreaking, especially because I remembered the strength she had shown when she first fought cancer years earlier. Kelly’s illness was the first time I saw how a disease affecting the brain could alter a person’s personality, memory, and daily life so dramatically. It made cancer feel much more personal and real. It was no longer something I only heard about in abstract terms. It was something that affected a person who helped shape many of my childhood memories. Losing her left a lasting impact on me and changed the way I think about illness, research, and medical progress. As I grew older, that experience continued to influence my perspective. I became more interested in science and the ways researchers work to understand and treat diseases that affect the brain. Seeing how quickly Kelly’s cancer progressed made me realize how urgently better treatments are needed. Today, I am studying biochemistry with the goal of pursuing pharmaceutical research. Next semester, I will begin working in a research laboratory studying a drug designed to target a specific enzyme involved in lung cancer growth. If successful, the research could slow or even stop the development of certain cancers. Being able to contribute to research like this early in my education feels meaningful because it connects my studies directly to the kind of medical progress that could help families facing diagnoses like the one Kelly experienced. While I cannot change what happened to Kelly, I hope that through my education and future career I can contribute to research that improves treatments and outcomes for patients facing cancers that affect the brain. Her memory continues to motivate me to pursue work that can make a difference in the lives of others.

Addiction, in many aspects of its meaning, has been present in my life for as long as I can remember. My father struggled with alcoholism, my mother with nicotine addiction, and several of my siblings developed substance use issues during their teenage years. Growing up in that environment, I understood addiction as something that existed around me, but I did not fully recognize how easily it could become part of my own life. I first began drinking in eighth grade during the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic. At the time, I was struggling with depression and felt disconnected from everything around me. Drinking became a way to feel something when I otherwise felt numb. What started as an occasional escape quickly turned into a pattern. For several months, I would drink alone in my room, often missing classes and withdrawing from the responsibilities I once cared about. Although that period eventually passed, I did not fully understand the impact it had on me. After my junior year of high school, I found myself turning back to alcohol, this time under a different kind of pressure. Between academic expectations, work, and preparing for my future, I felt overwhelmed and unsure of how to manage the stress. At first, drinking was limited to weekends at social gatherings, but it gradually became something I relied on daily. I began drinking alone again, using it as a way to cope rather than addressing the stress I was experiencing. During this time, I developed unhealthy habits that affected both my physical and mental well-being. I prioritized drinking over taking care of myself, and I found myself structuring my days around when I would be able to drink. Looking back, it was a period where I felt stuck between recognizing the problem and not knowing how to change it. The turning point came when I began to reflect on where my choices were leading me. I realized that I was following a path I had seen affect people I loved, and I did not want that to define my future. With support from those around me and a renewed sense of responsibility toward my goals, I made the decision to stop drinking and focus on rebuilding healthier habits. Since becoming sober, my life has changed significantly. I have been able to reconnect with my passion for learning and push myself academically in ways I had not thought possible. I invested my time into tutoring, mentoring younger students, and preparing for my future in science. These experiences helped me rebuild confidence and gave me a sense of purpose that replaced the reliance I once had on alcohol. My experiences with addiction, both personally and within my family, have shaped my academic and career goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and plan to pursue pharmaceutical research focused on addiction and neurological diseases. I have seen how deeply addiction can impact individuals and families, but I have also seen how recovery and effective treatment can change lives. Addiction once felt like something that surrounded me. Now, it is something that has shaped my resilience and my purpose. Through my education and future career, I hope to help others break similar cycles and build healthier, more stable lives.

New York. Five a.m. The sidewalks empty. Only the steam pouring from the manhole covers seems alive, as I amble from shop window to shop window, sometimes stopping to stare, sometimes not. Last week’s snow is brittle now and unrecognizable as the soft, white hair that bearded the face of the city. I head farther down Fifth Avenue toward the thirties, my mind empty like the Buddhists tell you is possible if only you don’t try. If only I could turn myself into a bird like the shaman I was meant to be, but I can’t, I’m earthbound and solitude is my companion, the only one you can count on. Don’t, don’t try to tell me otherwise. I’ve had it all and lost it and I never want it back, only give me this morning to keep, the city asleep and there on the corner of Thirty-fourth and Fifth, the man with the saxophone, his fingerless gloves caked with grime, his face also, the layers of clothes welded to his skin. I set down my case, he steps backward to let me know I’m welcome, and we stand a few minutes in the silence so complete I think I must be somewhere else, not here, not in this city, this heartland of pure noise. Then he puts the sax to his lips again and I raise mine. I suck the air up from my diaphragm and bend over into the cold, golden reed, waiting for the notes to come, and when they do, for that one moment, I’m the unencumbered bird of my imagination, rising only to fall back toward concrete, each note a black flower, opening, mercifully opening into the unforgiving new day. Cities are brimming with activity and teeming with the opportunity to grow. Streets are packed with people, shops, work buildings and restaurants. Yet, the life that people strive for seems to be less than expected as people fight for status symbols, money, jobs, and homes. The things that people do for those status symbols will not always add up to improve a person’s life, and may destroy the passion or emotion that mortalizes the human race. In Ai’s “The Man with the Saxophone”, Ai employs imaginative metaphor and cyclic enjambment to juxtapose the complex nature of life’s cycles with the ephemeral moments of color that provide purpose for the speaker while exposing the dullness of the surrounding years of life. The utilization of imaginative metaphors creates a sense of color and joy for the speaker as the saxophone allows them to feel as “the unencumbered bird of [their] imagination” (Ai, 46). Though much of the poem seems like an endless cycle of dull, meaningless life, the music of the saxophone is providing an unforgettable moment shared with the man on the street. The man, assumed to be homeless or of the lowest working class, provides a stark contrast between the paleness and lack of emotion in society, especially during industrialization expansions that led to increased working and less individuality in a person’s life. The connection between the speaker and the man appeals to the attraction of passion in one’s life. The man, having succumbed to a lack of stable income, continued to play his saxophone, symbolizing his defiance of society’s expectations by pursuing his passions. Inspired by the man, the speaker uses their saxophone to break the otherwise dull patterns of life with “each note a black flower” that opens into the “unforgiving new day” (Ai, 49,51). The flower that is compared to the music is symbolism of the beauty that music and passion brings to individuality, yet the color exemplifies that the true nature of humans to rely on the patterns for stabilization and advancements regardless of passions. Both the bird and the flower represent the freedom and naturality that music and art brings to life, yet the moment is temporary and the cycle of bleak life will continue on. Through the employment of cyclic enjambment, the speaker enlightens the reader on the lack of ambition or excitement in one’s life. The speaker suggests that the previous week’s snow is “brittle now and unrecognizable”, yet the lack of punctuation exemplifies that the weeks blur into each other and the time never ceases (Ai, 7,8). While the physical milieu continues to morph the activities, expectations do not metamorphosize, causing a feeling of entrapment. The perceived lack of control can make a person feel unfulfilled which is delineated as the speaker suggests that “solitude” is the “companion” (Ai,20). Furthermore, the feeling of being stuck in a person’s own life is illuminated further through later use of enjambment when the speaker plays the saxophone and is a bird “rising only to fall back toward concrete” (Ai, 47,48). The enjambment illustrates that while the speaker feels the fleeting joy from art, the moment will not last as everything circles back to the original cycle. The daily motions of the speaker’s life seem unending, almost like nature's cycle of life, also exemplified with the previous metaphors with nature as the movement through society and life’s cycles are impossible to escape, even through the moments of passion where hope is feasible. The speaker’s utilization of personification communicates how society’s impact on a person’s choices lead to colorless life and strip away the feeling they had once strived for. The speaker suggests that the city has a “bearded” face, meaning that the city is old yet manages to be a central part of its inhabitants (Ai, 9). The city, personified through each person, expands its grasp on each person with its societal expectations and capitalistic systems that prevent individual expression. By personifying the steam as “alive”, it again illuminates the impression and grip that the city has on the speaker, and the steam, escaping from the manhole, exemplifies the desire to escape from the city and free oneself from the dampening of artistic and individualistic freedom. Through cyclic enjambment, ambitious personification and naturalistic metaphors, the speaker conveys the desire to be freed from the cities’ boring and dull life. The bustling streets seem to be a facade and the moments of self-expression allow for a beautiful yet ephemeral joy to be felt all while reminding each person that the endless cycle of days bleed into each other, regardless of the few moments that make life worth living. Life, full of dullness relies on the moments of joy and human emotion to remain individual and through that , remain purposeful and emotional for contentness.

Recovery, to me, is not a single moment or section of time in someone’s life. It’s a process of growth, self-awareness, and rebuilding. It means learning how to confront challenges rather than avoid them, and choosing to use the past as tools for moving forward toward a better future. My understanding of recovery has been shaped by both personal experiences and watching several people close to me struggle with addiction. I have seen, and experienced, how difficult it can be to break patterns and rebuild a sense of stability. However, I have also seen how powerful support systems, relationships, and hope can be important in helping someone reclaim their life. Recovery is not perfection, but consistency in choosing to lead a healthier life for yourself and the people around you. To me, recovery also means rediscovering purpose. Whether this be through gaining confidence, rebuilding relationships, or finding meaning in every life again, the choice is that of living, not simply surviving. It requires a great deal of patience and resilience, but regardless of setbacks, the forward steps remain solid. Ultimately, recovery has represented hope for me and my loved ones. It’s proof that change is possible and that even in the most difficult circumstances, people have the ability to grow, heal, and create a better future for themselves.

One of the most meaningful relationships in my life is the one I share with my older brother, Dylan. Growing up, we were incredibly close. We were often described as carbon copies of each other, sharing a sense of humor, curiosity, and a tendency to turn everyday moments into games. Some of my earliest memories involve Dylan finding creative ways to make learning fun. When I struggled with multiplication tables, he turned them into games of “war,” where solving a math problem correctly meant winning the battle. At the time, I simply saw him as my older brother and playmate, but those moments shaped my love of learning in ways I did not yet understand. As we grew older, our relationship faced unexpected challenges. During my early teenage years, Dylan began struggling with substance abuse. What started as subtle behavioral changes eventually grew into something much more serious, leading him to leave our family home in Missouri. Watching someone I admired so deeply face those struggles was confusing and painful, especially as our once constant presence in each other’s lives became distant. However, the story of my relationship with my brother did not end there. After many attempts at treatment, my parents convinced Dylan to participate in a clinical drug trial focused on helping individuals struggling with alcoholism. The trial proved to be incredibly successful, and over time I began to see glimpses of the brother I remembered. His recovery was not only a relief for our family, but it also changed the way I understood resilience, compassion, and the importance of support systems. That experience shaped the way I approach relationships with others. Watching my brother navigate addiction and recovery taught me that people are often fighting battles that are invisible to those around them. Because of this, I try to approach relationships with empathy and patience. Whether I am tutoring students, mentoring young athletes through softball coaching, or collaborating with peers in academic settings, I strive to create spaces where people feel supported rather than judged. My relationship with Dylan has also deeply influenced my academic and professional goals. I am currently studying biochemistry with the goal of pursuing pharmaceutical research. Seeing firsthand how effective medical treatment helped my brother regain his life showed me the power of scientific discovery. It made me realize that research is not just about data or laboratory experiments; it is about creating solutions that can transform lives and restore hope to families facing difficult circumstances. In the future, I hope to pursue a doctorate in pharmaceutical sciences and contribute to research focused on addiction and neurological diseases. My goal is to develop treatments that can help individuals facing the same struggles that my brother experienced. In many ways, my career path has been shaped by our relationship and the lessons it has taught me about resilience, compassion, and the importance of supporting others. Relationships have the power to shape our values, our goals, and the way we interact with the world around us. My relationship with my brother taught me that connection is not defined only by easy moments, but also by the ways we support one another through challenges. That understanding continues to guide how I build relationships and how I hope to make a meaningful impact in the lives of others.

A life of service, to me, means using the opportunities and knowledge I have been given to support others and create positive change in my community. Service is not always a single large action, but rather a consistent commitment to helping others grow, learn, and overcome challenges. Throughout my life, I have tried to embody this mindset by sharing my skills, supporting those around me, and pursuing an education that will allow me to make a meaningful impact. One of the most important ways I have practiced service has been through mentoring and tutoring. During high school, I volunteered over 160 hours tutoring students who needed academic support. Many of these students struggled with confidence in their abilities, and my role was not only to help them understand difficult material but also to encourage them to believe that they were capable of succeeding. Watching a student grasp a concept that once seemed impossible was incredibly rewarding and reinforced my belief that education can empower people to transform their own lives. I have also worked to serve my community through athletics. After spending years playing competitive softball, I chose to remain involved in the sport by volunteering as a pitching coach for young athletes from underserved communities who could not afford private lessons. Pitching instruction can be expensive, and many young athletes do not have access to the same opportunities that others do. By offering free coaching, I was able to help these players build their skills and confidence while ensuring that financial barriers did not prevent them from pursuing a sport they loved. In addition to mentoring and coaching, I have sought to create spaces where people can learn and engage with important issues. During high school, I co-founded a podcast and website called Garrulous Gals with a close friend. Our goal was to address misinformation and encourage thoughtful conversations among our peers about social issues and current events. By providing accessible discussions and encouraging curiosity, we hoped to help others better understand the world around them. My commitment to service has also shaped my academic goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and plan to pursue a career in pharmaceutical research. My interest in this field is deeply personal, as I have seen firsthand how addiction and disease can impact families and communities. I hope to contribute to the development of treatments for addiction and neurological diseases so that more people have access to effective medical care. Through scientific research, I want to serve others by helping create treatments that improve lives and provide hope for individuals and families facing difficult health challenges. While research may take place in a laboratory, its ultimate purpose is to improve the well-being of people everywhere. Service has taught me that even small actions can make a meaningful difference. Whether tutoring a student, mentoring a young athlete, or working toward scientific discoveries that could help future patients, I strive to use my abilities and education in ways that support others. As I continue my education and pursue a career in research, I remain committed to using my knowledge and opportunities to serve my community and improve the lives of others.

Leadership, to me, has never been about titles or authority. Instead, it is about using your abilities and experiences to help others grow, succeed, and believe in themselves. Some of the most meaningful leadership experiences in my life have come not from formal positions, but from the ways I have been able to support the people around me. One of the clearest examples of this has been through coaching. After spending many years playing competitive softball as a pitcher, I chose to stay involved in the sport by volunteering as a pitching coach for young athletes from underserved communities. Many families cannot afford private pitching instruction, which is often necessary for players to develop their skills. By offering my time and experience, I was able to help these young athletes build both their technical skills and their confidence. Leadership in this environment meant more than simply teaching mechanics. It meant encouraging players when they were frustrated, helping them overcome self-doubt, and reminding them that improvement comes through patience and persistence. Leadership has also meant sharing knowledge in other ways. During high school, I co-founded a podcast and website called Garrulous Gals with a close friend. Our goal was to address misinformation and encourage thoughtful discussions among our peers about social and political issues. Creating the podcast required research, organization, and a willingness to engage in meaningful conversations with others. Through this project, I learned that leadership can also take the form of creating spaces where people feel comfortable learning and asking questions. In addition to these projects, I have spent more than 160 hours volunteering as a tutor for students who needed academic support. Tutoring allowed me to help others understand subjects that once challenged them. It also taught me the importance of patience and adaptability, since every student learns differently. Seeing someone gain confidence in their abilities after struggling with a concept was incredibly rewarding and reinforced my belief that leadership often involves empowering others to recognize their own potential. These experiences have shaped the kind of leader I strive to be. I believe leadership is rooted in empathy, perseverance, and a commitment to helping others succeed. Whether I am mentoring young athletes, tutoring students, or working alongside peers in academic settings, I aim to lead by example through dedication and support. The lessons I have learned through leadership will continue guiding me as I pursue my future goals in biochemistry and pharmaceutical research. Scientific progress relies heavily on collaboration, mentorship, and the willingness to share knowledge with others. By fostering supportive environments where people feel encouraged to grow and contribute their ideas, leaders can help drive meaningful innovation and change. Ultimately, what makes someone a leader is not recognition or status, but the ability to inspire confidence and growth in others. My experiences have taught me that leadership is most powerful when it focuses on lifting others up and creating opportunities for them to succeed.

For much of my life, athletics were where I learned some of my most important lessons. I spent years playing competitive softball, primarily as a pitcher. Pitching is a position that requires patience and resilience. Every pitch carries pressure, and success rarely comes without failure first. Over time, the sport taught me discipline, perseverance, and the ability to stay focused even when things do not go as planned. Those lessons have stayed with me long after I stepped off the field. Eventually, I made the difficult decision to stop playing competitive softball. For a long time, the sport had been a large part of my identity, and walking away from it felt like losing something important. However, that moment also gave me the opportunity to redefine what athletics meant to me. Instead of leaving the sport behind entirely, I began volunteering as a pitching coach for younger athletes from underserved communities who could not afford private lessons. Many young softball players rely on private instruction to develop their skills, but those lessons are often expensive and inaccessible to families with limited resources. Coaching allowed me to stay connected to the sport in a new and meaningful way. Watching young athletes gain confidence, improve their technique, and discover their own love for the game reminded me why I fell in love with softball in the first place. One of the most rewarding parts of coaching has been seeing players who once doubted themselves begin to trust their abilities. Athletics can be incredibly empowering, especially for young girls learning to believe in themselves. Being able to support that growth has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my athletic journey. Today, athletics still play an important role in my life, even though the form has changed. I continue to train through weightlifting and strength training, and I hope to begin competing in lifting competitions as I continue improving my performance. Weightlifting requires many of the same qualities I developed as a pitcher: patience, consistency, and mental resilience. Progress often happens slowly, but every improvement represents the result of dedication and persistence. One person who has deeply influenced my perspective on resilience is my older brother. He faced significant challenges with addiction and spent years struggling before eventually finding recovery. Watching him rebuild his life showed me the strength it takes to overcome difficult circumstances. His journey has shaped both my personal outlook and my academic goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and plan to pursue pharmaceutical research focused on addiction and neurological diseases. Seeing the impact that effective medical treatment can have on someone’s life inspired me to pursue a career where I can contribute to that kind of progress. The mindset that athletics taught me has influenced every part of my life. Sports showed me how to keep pushing forward when progress feels slow and how to grow stronger through challenges. That same mindset carries into my academic work, my research goals, and the time I spend mentoring younger athletes. Whether I am coaching a pitcher who is learning to trust her abilities or training in the gym toward my own athletic goals, I carry the belief that growth comes through persistence. The You Got It Girl scholarship represents exactly the kind of empowerment that shaped my own experiences in sports. Support like this would help me continue balancing my academic goals, athletic training, and community involvement while pursuing a demanding degree in biochemistry. It would allow me to keep investing time in both my education and the athletic pursuits that continue to shape my discipline and resilience. Athletics have never been only about competition for me. They have been a way to build confidence, support others, and develop the strength to face challenges both on and off the field. Those lessons will continue guiding me as I pursue my education, mentor younger athletes, and work toward a future where I can make a meaningful difference in the lives of others.

Growing up in Missouri, conversations about LGBTQ identities were often framed as political debates rather than discussions about people and their lives. As someone who identifies as bisexual, navigating that environment was difficult. Acceptance and advocacy were limited in many of the spaces around me, and misinformation about LGBTQ people was common. While I did not always recognize it at the time, those experiences had a significant impact on my mental health during my teenage years. During middle school and early high school, I struggled with depression and feelings of isolation. When school shifted to a completely virtual format during eighth grade, the structure and support that school normally provided disappeared almost overnight. Without daily interaction with friends and teachers, it became much easier to feel disconnected and overwhelmed. Schoolwork that had once felt manageable suddenly felt much more difficult. Those experiences forced me to confront the reality that mental health challenges can affect anyone, even people who appear to be functioning normally on the outside. They also showed me how important supportive environments can be. When people feel safe to express who they are and talk openly about their struggles, it becomes much easier to seek help and move forward. When I moved away for college, I experienced a very different environment. Attending school in Pittsburgh exposed me to communities where LGBTQ identities were visible and supported rather than questioned. Seeing people live openly and confidently helped me understand how powerful acceptance can be for someone’s mental well-being. It also made me reflect on how many people grow up without access to that kind of support. Because of those experiences, I became interested in creating spaces for more open conversations about identity and mental health. During high school, I helped create a podcast called Garrulous Gals with a close friend. Through the podcast and the website we built alongside it, we discussed social issues and worked to challenge misinformation among people our age. Some of our conversations focused on LGBTQ topics, while others explored broader issues surrounding identity and public discourse. For me, the podcast was not just about sharing opinions. It was about encouraging thoughtful discussion and helping people feel more comfortable asking questions and learning from one another. I believe many misunderstandings surrounding LGBTQ experiences come from a lack of exposure and open dialogue. Creating a space where those conversations could happen was meaningful both for our listeners and for my own growth. These experiences also shaped the direction of my education. I am currently studying biochemistry with the goal of pursuing pharmaceutical research. My academic interests include neurological science and addiction research, fields closely connected to mental health. Understanding how the brain functions and how treatments can support people struggling with mental health challenges is something I find deeply meaningful. The Elijah’s Helping Hand Scholarship honors the memory of a student who faced challenges related to identity and mental health. Stories like Elijah’s remind us how important it is to create environments where people feel supported and valued. Through my education, advocacy efforts, and future career, I hope to contribute to conversations and research that help people feel less alone in navigating their identity and mental health.

A home filled with seven children, both parents and several pets would seem like a full house to most who peered through. However, to my family and I, the house seems rather empty. Growing up, my mother’s best friend, Kelly, and her children had spent years both figuratively and literally living in our home. Through floods that required their family to stay with ours to late nights spent building pipe-cleaner flowers that Kelly had taught us how to do, her family had become part of mine. The pipe-cleaner flowers had been a skill Kelly learned in the hospital through her chemotherapy treatments during her first round of cancer. Kelly had battled breast cancer in her thirties and while the process was absolutely difficult, she defeated it and returned to a life of joy and endless humour she seemed to exude. However, years later, cancer had made a return. Only this time, the cancer was not purely breast cancer, but it had metastasized to her brain and had become stage IV brain cancer. The following months were full of treatments and support from everyone around her. Despite the continuous efforts, the cancer grew quickly and Kelly was no longer herself. The brain cancer led to memory recollection difficulties and difficulty with basic functions. However, even at the end of her life, she delighted everyone with her jokes and everyone around her remained laughing. Watching someone I loved change so quickly was one of the first times I truly understood how devastating cancer can be. As a child, I did not fully grasp the medical complexity of what was happening, but I could see the effects it had on Kelly and on the people around her. The woman who had once spent evenings laughing with us and teaching us how to make pipe-cleaner flowers slowly lost the ability to remember simple things. It was confusing and heartbreaking, especially because I remembered the strength she had shown when she first fought cancer years earlier. Kelly’s illness was the first time I saw how a disease affecting the brain could alter a person’s personality, memory, and daily life so dramatically. It made cancer feel much more personal and real. It was no longer something I only heard about in abstract terms. It was something that affected a person who helped shape many of my childhood memories. Losing her left a lasting impact on me and changed the way I think about illness, research, and medical progress. As I grew older, that experience continued to influence my perspective. I became more interested in science and the ways researchers work to understand and treat diseases that affect the brain. Seeing how quickly Kelly’s cancer progressed made me realize how urgently better treatments and earlier detection methods are needed. Today, I am studying biochemistry with the goal of pursuing pharmaceutical research. Next semester, I will begin working in a research laboratory studying a drug designed to target a specific enzyme involved in lung cancer growth. If successful, the research could slow or even stop the development of certain cancers. Being able to contribute to research like this early in my education feels meaningful because it connects my studies directly to the kind of medical progress that could help families facing diagnoses like the one Kelly experienced. While I cannot change what happened to Kelly, I hope that through my education and future career I can contribute to research that improves treatments for patients facing cancers that affect the brain. Her memory continues to motivate me to work to make a difference in the lives of others.

Education has been one of the most important forces shaping my sense of direction and purpose. From a young age, I was content with learning everything under the sun. From multiplication tables to books far above my grade’s average reading level, I adored collecting every piece of information that I could. However, in eighth grade, my schooling was 100% virtual. Without the promise of seeing friends and teachers everyday, I began to fall into depression and school became a chore and the simplest assignments seemed like mountains to climb. Around the same time, my older brother Dylan had begun his descent into a path of addiction and troubled behaviors. Eventually, this led to his departure from our family home in Missouri, and he found himself in Pennsylvania, where I now attend college. To aid in his recovery, my parents tried rehabilitation facilities; none of which seemed to work. Fortunately, after my parents had exhausted every other resource to get him help, they convinced him to participate in a drug trial that focused on helping with substance abuse, particularly alcoholism. The trial was a major success and my brother had returned to his previous joyful demeanor and his success had inspired a newfound hope for my own life. I spent the next few years recovering from my mental health struggles by learning to love the act of learning again. Instead of performing for others, school became a measurement of achievement for myself and the results were far greater than I had expected. I took every advanced course that I could from every AP science course offered in my school curriculum to AP Literature and Language where I excelled, scoring 4’s and 5’s in each one. I became excited for school and when sick, I had intense disappointment after leaving. However, while I worked tirelessly to improve, I cannot credit myself completely for my growth. My high school teachers were some of the most important people in my life at the time. Their intense faith in my development was enhanced by the care they had for me as a person. Each of them encouraged and supported me through every hurdle I had to jump through and as the years passed, I grew tighter connections with these teachers who pushed me to become the best version of myself. Even now, I remain in contact with them through my college experience. The education I received in high school and the support from my teachers naturally cultivated my desire to share my knowledge with my peers. Through this urge, I was led to create a podcast known as the “Garrulous Gals” where a friend of mine and I educated our classmates on the spread of misinformation and the steps to combat it. The podcast grew and I designed a website where articles surrounding similar topics were published. Furthering my passion for educating others, I completed over 160 volunteer tutoring hours and coached a young girls’ softball team from an under-privileged area. With my previous endeavors in teaching others, I have continued this passion into my undergraduate studies as well. I have persisted in tutoring my peers, and my achievements in my studies have allowed me to secure a lab position for next semester. The lab is working on creating a drug to target a specific type of enzyme, and if successful, it could reduce the growth, or even completely stop the development of lung cancer in adults. After obtaining my undergraduate degree in Biochemistry, I plan on attending graduate school for a doctorate in pharmaceutical sciences where I hope to use my degree in a lab of my own where I would hope to be working on pharmaceutical research surrounding addiction and substance abuse. This aspiration was founded during the time of my brother’s struggles and then his recovery. I plan on using my future education to improve the lives of others, particularly those who were less fortunate and have fallen into substance abuse. Education has always played a role in my life as it was a source of pride for my parents, then a chore I had struggled to complete and then a source of pride and inspiration for myself. I have spent much of my time attempting to spread the joy of learning with those around me and will continue to do so throughout the rest of my undergraduate schooling. Afterwards, my love of learning will allow me to research subjects I am passionate about and use that knowledge to save the lives of others just as it had saved my brother.

Seated cross-legged on the living room carpet, I feverishly tore into my presents, each adorned with a tag inscribed “To: Ladybug,” my cherished nickname. However, nestled at the tree's base lay a small cluster of meticulously wrapped packages, their shiny bows glistening in the glow of the tree lights, each labeled for my older brother. Too enthralled by my gifts, I misinterpreted the disconsolate glances exchanged between my parents, assuming they were weary from the long day. It wasn’t until the ephemeral joy faded that I realized the gifts for Dylan remained untouched, a silent attempt to fill the space he had left behind. Dylan and I were inseparable, often called carbon copies of each other. Instead of watching me wrestle with multiplication tables, he would play “war,” cleverly weaving math into our battles. He would play catch with me in the backyard when nobody else braved the bitter chill. Eventually, Dylan began to spend more time with his friends, often returning in the early morning hours. One night, I found him sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes unfocused and hair tangled, and he did not look up as I passed. The next morning, Dylan disappeared, eventually resurfacing in Pennsylvania, where we learned he had begun his struggle with substance abuse. Once a place for holidays and laughter, the kitchen table began to shake under the weight of piling bills, and the night air grew thick with my parents’ whispered arguments. Watching someone you love slowly lose themselves to addiction changes the way you see the world. For me, it mingled with my underlying adoration for science, and I questioned “why?”. What brain functions are overpowered by the substances that my brother had consumed and why had they controlled him so much that his will, relationships, and future were completely altered? Today, I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry with the goal of working in pharmaceutical research, studying the biochemical and neurological mechanisms of addiction and developing therapies that can help people recover from substance dependence. Addiction is often discussed as a moral failing, but the science behind it is one I have just began to understand as processes in neurochemistry, receptor signaling, and interactions between environment and biology. Understanding those mechanisms is the first step toward designing treatments that can truly help people regain control of their lives. My path toward that goal is already taking shape. As an undergraduate, I have secured a position in a research laboratory beginning next semester, where I will gain hands-on experience in biochemical research. I also plan to further pursue internships, research collaborations, and extracurricular opportunities that will allow me to deepen my understanding of pharmacology and neuroscience. These experiences will prepare me for graduate study and, ultimately, a career dedicated to developing therapies that address addiction and related neurological disorders. My parents were never given the opportunity to pursue higher education, and supporting my own education has been a challenge. Financial strain may even require me to transfer schools in order to continue pursuing my degree. However, these challenges have only strengthened my determination as education is not a simple aspiration, but a required pathway to make a tangible difference in the lives of people like my brother. Science gives us the tools to understand the mechanisms behind suffering, but more importantly, it gives us the power to change outcomes. By pursuing a career in pharmaceutical research, I hope to contribute to discoveries that transform addiction from a cycle of loss into a pathway toward recovery.

One of the most significant losses in my life was the death of my mom’s best friend, Kelly. She passed away about seven years ago after a long battle with breast cancer. For most of my childhood, Kelly was more than just my mom’s friend. She was someone who felt like part of our family. Our families spent a lot of time together when I was growing up. Her kids were some of my closest friends, and many of my childhood memories include holidays, birthdays, and random weekends where both of our families were together. Because of that, when Kelly was first diagnosed with breast cancer, it felt like something that affected all of us. The first time she had cancer, she went through treatment and eventually recovered. I remember the sense of relief everyone felt when she was declared cancer free. It felt like the worst part was over and life could go back to normal. For a while, it did. Years later, the cancer came back. This time it was more aggressive. Eventually it metastasized to her brain. Watching someone who had once been energetic and present slowly lose the ability to do the things she loved was incredibly difficult. It was one of the first times I truly understood how devastating illness can be, not only for the person experiencing it but for everyone who loves them. Kelly passed away when I was still young, but the experience stayed with me in ways I did not fully realize until later. It forced me to confront the reality that serious illness can appear suddenly and change everything about a person’s life. It also showed me how much we still do not understand about diseases like cancer. That experience has influenced the direction of my education and future goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and hope to work in pharmaceutical research. Seeing someone I cared about go through multiple rounds of treatment and still lose her life made me want to understand the science behind disease and the treatments used to fight it. I want to be part of the effort to develop better therapies so that fewer families have to go through the same experience. Kelly’s death also shaped the way I view relationships and time with people. Losing someone who was such a constant presence in my childhood made me more aware of how quickly circumstances can change. It made me appreciate the people around me and the moments we share in ways I might not have otherwise. Over the years I have also experienced other losses, including the deaths of classmates and friends. Each of those experiences reinforced the same lesson that Kelly’s illness first taught me. Life is fragile, and the time we have with the people around us is not guaranteed. Although losing Kelly was incredibly painful, it also gave me a clearer sense of purpose. Her memory is one of the reasons I am pursuing a path in science and medicine today. I hope that through my education and future work I can contribute to research that helps families facing illnesses like the one she fought for so long.

If I were designing a new Love Island challenge, I would call it “Truth or Chemistry.” The challenge would combine honesty, compatibility, and a little bit of chaos, which is basically the perfect combination for reality TV. The challenge would take place at night in the villa garden with colorful lights, music, and a long table set up with different stations. Each couple would move through the stations together, completing different mini challenges that test how well they actually know each other. Islanders always say they have a strong connection, but this challenge would force them to prove it. The first station would be the Prediction Round. Each islander would be asked questions about their partner privately before the challenge starts. Questions could include things like their partner’s biggest green flag, biggest red flag, most embarrassing moment, or what they really thought when they first walked into the villa. When the couple reaches this station, their answers are revealed and they have to guess what their partner said. If they match, they get a point. If they do not match, the audience and other islanders get to hear the real answer, which could easily cause drama. The second station would be the Compatibility Test. Couples would be given quick questions and must answer at the same time by holding up paddles with their responses. These questions would cover things like who falls in love faster, who is more jealous, who is most likely to start an argument, or who would survive longer on their own outside the villa. If their answers match, they earn points. If they do not match, they have to explain their answers to everyone watching. The third station would be the Temptation Round. Each islander is presented with two choices. One option benefits their partner, such as earning their couple points or a reward like a date night. The other option benefits only themselves, such as winning a personal advantage or immunity from the next recoupling. Their partner does not know what they chose until the end of the round, so it tests loyalty and priorities. The final station would be the Hot Seat. Each couple sits in front of the group while the other islanders anonymously submit one question they want answered about the couple. These questions could be anything from “Are you really attracted to your partner?” to “Who would you couple up with if your partner left tonight?” The couple must answer honestly. At the end of the challenge, the couple with the most points wins a private villa date and a night in the hideaway. However, the couple with the lowest score faces a twist. The public votes on which one of them must go on a date with a bombshell the next day. The reason this challenge would work well is because it mixes fun games with real emotional stakes. Islanders could prove their connection, but they might also accidentally reveal things that create tension in the villa. In other words, it would be perfect Love Island chaos.

I became a fan of Sabrina Carpenter a few years ago when I first started listening to her music more closely, and what stood out to me right away was her ability to balance honesty with humor in her songwriting. A lot of artists write about relationships or growing up, but Sabrina Carpenter has a way of doing it that feels self aware and authentic rather than overly polished. Her songs often feel like someone telling a story rather than trying to create a perfect image. One thing I admire about her career is how much she has grown as an artist over time. She started out acting and making music at a young age, but instead of staying in the same lane she gradually developed her own sound and personality as a performer. Albums like Emails I Can’t Send showed a more personal and reflective side of her songwriting, and it felt like she was willing to take risks with the stories she was telling. Watching an artist evolve in that way makes her career feel more real and relatable. Her music has also impacted me in smaller ways when it comes to confidence and self expression. A lot of Sabrina Carpenter’s songs lean into the idea that it is okay to be sarcastic, imperfect, or a little messy while you are figuring life out. That message can be surprisingly encouraging, especially during times when you feel pressure to have everything planned out. Instead of pretending to have everything together, her music often embraces the awkward or complicated parts of growing up. I also appreciate the way she interacts with her fans and the sense of humor she brings to her public image. She seems comfortable being playful and not taking herself too seriously, which makes her feel approachable compared to many celebrities who try to maintain a very controlled image. Overall, Sabrina Carpenter’s career has impacted me less in a dramatic life changing way and more through the steady presence of music that feels honest and entertaining at the same time. Her willingness to grow as an artist and speak openly about her experiences makes her someone I continue to enjoy following. As someone who values creativity and authenticity, I respect the way she has built a career by staying true to her voice while still evolving over time.

Mental health and substance use have been difficult parts of my life, but they have also shaped the person I am becoming. My experiences with depression and alcohol began earlier than I fully understood at the time. In eighth grade, I was struggling with mental health in ways I did not yet have the language to explain. I felt isolated, overwhelmed, and unsure of how to cope with those feelings. Around that time, I began drinking. At first it seemed like an escape from emotions I did not know how to process. Eventually, I was able to get help and stop drinking. For a while things felt more stable. I focused on school and finishing high school, and I thought that chapter of my life was behind me. However, recovery is rarely a straight line. After graduating high school, I experienced another period where my mental health declined. That summer I began drinking again, and the behavior quickly escalated into something much more serious. By the end of the summer and into my first semester of college, my drinking had become frequent enough that it could reasonably be described as alcoholism. What ultimately helped me begin to turn things around was the environment I found when I came to college. Being surrounded by people who genuinely cared about my well-being made a significant difference. My friends here were not afraid to question my behavior and ask difficult questions about how I was coping. Those conversations forced me to reflect on my choices and confront the reality of where my actions were leading me. Instead of ignoring the problem, I began to think seriously about the kind of future I wanted for myself. Through that process I started working on healthier ways to manage my mental health. I focused on building a support system, talking openly with people I trust, and becoming more aware of how my choices affect my well-being. One of the most important things I learned was that recovery requires honesty, both with yourself and with the people around you. Acknowledging when you are struggling makes it possible to ask for help before things spiral further. These experiences have also influenced my educational goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and hope to pursue a career in pharmaceutical research. My academic interests are particularly focused on addiction and neurological disorders. Having witnessed both my own struggles and those of people close to me, I have seen how complex addiction can be and how urgently better treatments and understanding are needed. I want to contribute to research that helps people who are facing similar challenges and gives them the opportunity to rebuild their lives. My plan for continuing recovery centers on maintaining the support systems and habits that have helped me regain stability. I prioritize surrounding myself with friends who hold me accountable and encourage healthy choices. I continue to reflect on my mental health and seek support when I need it rather than trying to manage everything on my own. Staying focused on my academic goals also provides motivation and structure that keeps me moving forward. Recovery is not something that happens once and then disappears from your life. It is an ongoing process that requires awareness, honesty, and support. While my experiences with mental health and substance use have been challenging, they have also given me a deeper understanding of resilience and empathy. They have motivated me to pursue a future where I can use my education to help others facing similar struggles. I know that the path ahead will continue to require effort and self-awareness, but I am committed to maintaining my recovery and building a future that reflects the growth I have worked hard to achieve.

Growing up in a blended family meant that the word “half” never really meant much in my house. My siblings are technically my half siblings, but they have always simply been my brothers and sisters. Being raised in that kind of environment shaped who I am and the way I see the people around me. It taught me that family is not defined by technicalities but by the relationships you build and the ways you support each other. Two of my brothers in particular have had a huge impact on the person I have become. One of them serves in the National Guard. Watching him commit himself to something larger than his own interests showed me what dedication and responsibility look like in practice. His service has always reminded me that using your abilities to help others is one of the most meaningful things a person can do. My other brother, Dylan, influenced me in a very different way. Dylan struggled with addiction, and watching someone you love go through that changes the way you understand the world. When we were younger, he was someone I looked up to and spent a lot of time with. Seeing him struggle later in life forced me to confront how powerful and destructive addiction can be. It was confusing and painful at times, but it also pushed me to start asking questions about why these things happen and how they can be treated. Those experiences helped shape my academic path. I am studying biochemistry, and my long-term goal is to work in pharmaceutical research, particularly in areas related to addiction and neurological disorders. I want to contribute to the development of treatments that can help people recover and rebuild their lives. My brother’s experiences showed me that addiction is not simply a personal failure. It is a complex medical and neurological issue that requires better understanding and better solutions. Growing up in a blended family also taught me how much people can influence each other’s lives in ways we do not always realize. My siblings shaped my perspective, my values, and ultimately the direction I chose for my future. They showed me examples of both strength and struggle, and both of those lessons have stayed with me. In the future, I hope to use my education and talents to do good in the world by contributing to research that helps people who are facing challenges like the ones my brother experienced. Even though I am still early in my career, I know that I want my work to have a real impact on people’s lives. Whether through scientific discovery, medical advancement, or advocacy, I want to be someone who helps others find hope and solutions during difficult moments. Being raised in a blended family gave me a deeper understanding of resilience, responsibility, and compassion. Those lessons continue to shape my goals and the way I hope to use my talents to help others.

A performance by Taylor Swift that I find especially moving is her performance of “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” on Saturday Night Live in November 2021. The performance was significant because she sang the entire ten-minute version of the song live on television, something unusual for the show, where musical guests normally perform two shorter songs instead. What makes this performance powerful is the way it emphasizes storytelling rather than spectacle. The stage setup was simple. Taylor Swift stood in the center of a dimly lit autumn-like set while the short film she wrote to accompany the song played behind her. Because the performance avoided elaborate choreography or distractions, the focus stayed on the lyrics and the emotion in her voice. It felt more like watching a personal story unfold than a typical television performance. “All Too Well” has always been considered one of Swift’s most emotional songs, and the ten-minute version expands that feeling into a detailed narrative about memory, heartbreak, and growing up. During the SNL performance, she carefully moves through the song’s shifting emotions. At the beginning her delivery feels reflective and almost nostalgic. As the song progresses the emotion intensifies, especially during the bridge when the lyrics describe feeling misunderstood and hurt. By the end of the performance there is a sense of resolution, as if the story has come full circle. Critics even described the performance as one of the most riveting musical moments of the year. Another reason the performance is meaningful is the context in which it happened. Swift performed the song shortly after releasing Red (Taylor’s Version), part of her effort to re-record her earlier albums and regain ownership of her work. That background adds another layer to the performance. The song itself reflects on the past, and performing it during this period of reclaiming her music made the moment feel symbolic. It showed how an artist can revisit earlier experiences while also redefining them. I also find the performance moving because of the connection between Swift and her audience. Even though the performance took place in a television studio, millions of viewers were watching, many of whom had followed the song since its original release in 2012. When Swift performed the extended version, it felt like a moment shared between the artist and the fans who had waited years to hear the full story. Ultimately, this performance demonstrates why Taylor Swift remains such a compelling performer. She does not rely only on spectacle or stage effects. Instead, she uses storytelling, emotion, and vulnerability to connect with her audience. The SNL performance of “All Too Well” captures that ability perfectly, turning a ten-minute song into a deeply moving narrative that resonates long after the performance ends.

One of my favorite memories of my grandfather happened at his house during a summer visit when my family and I were swimming in his above ground pool. My grandfather served in the Vietnam War, and while I grew up knowing that about him, most of my childhood memories with him were not about war stories or medals. They were about the way he spent time with us and made even ordinary afternoons feel fun. On that particular day all of my siblings and cousins were in the pool with him while my grandparents watched from the patio. I was about six years old at the time and, unfortunately for me, I had a very real fear of frogs. At some point while we were all playing, a frog suddenly jumped straight onto my grandfather’s face. Instead of panicking, he calmly reached up, grabbed the frog, laughed, and tossed it in my direction. I immediately started screaming and splashing around in complete panic while everyone else burst out laughing. At six years old it felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen to me. Looking back now, it is one of the funniest memories I have with him. After the frog incident, he kept playing with us like nothing had happened. One by one he would grab us and throw us high into the air so we could splash back into the water. He somehow had the energy to do this for what felt like hours. Eventually we all climbed out of the pool, wrapped ourselves in towels, and followed him inside where he made each of us our own personal pizzas. We sat around the kitchen table eating them while still dripping pool water onto the floor and talking about the day. When I got older, I began to understand more about my grandfather’s time in Vietnam and the experiences he carried with him from that period of his life. The more I learned, the more I realized how remarkable it was that someone who had experienced something as difficult as war could still bring so much joy and patience into everyday moments with his family. My grandfather rarely spoke about the war in great detail, but the way he lived said a lot about the values he carried from his service. He showed quiet resilience, a deep loyalty to the people he cared about, and an ability to find humor even in unexpected situations. Those qualities were present in small moments like that afternoon in the pool just as much as they were in the larger stories of his life. That memory reminds me that service is not only about what someone does during their time in the military, but also about the kind of person they continue to be afterward. My grandfather’s service in Vietnam is something I respect deeply, but what I admire most is the way he came home and devoted himself to his family. Even in something as simple as a summer afternoon by the pool, he made sure we were laughing.

Addressing misinformation has become one of the most important social challenges facing my generation. With information spreading rapidly through social media, false or misleading claims about science, politics, and social issues can easily shape public opinion. I have seen how misinformation can create division, reinforce harmful stereotypes, and prevent productive conversations. Because of this, I decided to address the issue in a way that felt accessible to people my age. I created a podcast and accompanying website designed to discuss social and political topics while challenging misinformation. My goal was not simply to share opinions, but to encourage thoughtful discussion and critical thinking. On the podcast, I talk about current issues, explain the context behind them, and address common misconceptions that circulate online. I also use the website as a space to provide additional resources and information so listeners can explore topics further. One area that I have focused on in particular is misinformation surrounding LGBTQ issues. Growing up in Missouri, I often heard inaccurate or harmful claims about LGBTQ people presented as fact. These ideas were frequently repeated without being questioned, which made it difficult for meaningful conversations to take place. Through my podcast, I work to address those misconceptions and explain the realities behind them in a way that encourages understanding rather than hostility. Creating this platform has also allowed me to reach peers who may not otherwise engage in conversations about these topics. Many people my age receive most of their information from short clips or social media posts that rarely provide full context. A podcast format allows for longer discussions that explore issues more thoughtfully. While I do not expect to change everyone’s opinions, I hope that by providing clear explanations and reliable information I can encourage listeners to question misinformation and seek out credible sources. This effort also connects closely with my long-term goals. I am currently studying biochemistry and plan to pursue a career in pharmaceutical research. Scientific progress depends not only on discovery but also on communication. If the public cannot trust or understand scientific information, it becomes much harder for research to benefit society. Addressing misinformation and promoting scientific literacy will remain important aspects of the work I hope to do in the future. Through my podcast and website, I am working to create a space where complex issues can be discussed honestly and respectfully. While the platform began as a small project, it represents my belief that informed conversations and accessible information are essential for addressing many of the social challenges we face today.

Seated cross-legged on the living room carpet, I feverishly tore into my presents, each adorned with a tag inscribed “To: Ladybug,” my cherished nickname. However, nestled at the tree's base lay a small cluster of meticulously wrapped packages, their shiny bows glistening in the glow of the tree lights, each labeled for my older brother. Too enthralled by my gifts, I misinterpreted the disconsolate glances exchanged between my parents, assuming they were weary from the long day. It wasn’t until the ephemeral joy faded that I realized the gifts for Dylan remained untouched, a silent attempt to fill the space he had left behind. Dylan and I were inseparable, often called carbon copies of each other. Instead of watching me wrestle with multiplication tables, he would play “war,” cleverly weaving math into our battles. He would play catch with me in the backyard when nobody else braved the bitter chill. Eventually, Dylan began to spend more time with his friends, often returning in the early morning hours. One night, I found him sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes unfocused and hair tangled, and he did not look up as I passed. The next morning, Dylan disappeared, eventually resurfacing in Pennsylvania, where we learned he had begun his struggle with substance abuse. Once a place for holidays and laughter, the kitchen table began to shake under the weight of piling bills, and the night air grew thick with my parents’ whispered arguments. Watching someone you love slowly lose themselves to addiction changes the way you see the world. For me, it mingled with my underlying adoration for science, and I questioned “why?”. What brain functions are overpowered by the substances that my brother had consumed and why had they controlled him so much that his will, relationships, and future were completed altered? Today, I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry with the goal of working in pharmaceutical research, studying the biochemical and neurological mechanisms of addiction and developing therapies that can help people recover from substance dependence. Addiction is often discussed as a moral failing, but the science behind it is one I have just began to understand as processes in neurochemistry, receptor signaling, and interactions between environment and biology. Understanding those mechanisms is the first step toward designing treatments that can truly help people regain control of their lives. My path toward that goal is already taking shape. As an undergraduate, I have secured a position in a research laboratory beginning next semester, where I will gain hands-on experience in biochemical research. I also plan to further pursue internships, research collaborations, and extracurricular opportunities that will allow me to deepen my understanding of pharmacology and neuroscience. These experiences will prepare me for graduate study and, ultimately, a career dedicated to developing therapies that address addiction and related neurological disorders. My parents were never given the opportunity to pursue higher education, and supporting my own education has been a challenge. Financial strain may even require me to transfer schools in order to continue pursuing my degree. However, these challenges have only strengthened my determination as education is not a simple aspiration, but a required pathway to make a tangible difference in the lives of people like my brother. Science gives us the tools to understand the mechanisms behind suffering, but more importantly, it gives us the power to change outcomes. By pursuing a career in pharmaceutical research, I hope to contribute to discoveries that transform addiction from a cycle of loss into a pathway toward recovery.

Seated cross-legged on the living room carpet, I tore into my presents, each tagged “To Ladybug,” my childhood nickname. At the base of the tree sat a small cluster of carefully wrapped packages with shiny bows reflecting the lights. They were all labeled for my older brother Dylan. I was too caught up in my own excitement to notice the quiet glances my parents exchanged across the room. I assumed they were simply tired from the long day. It was not until later that I realized the gifts for Dylan remained unopened, sitting exactly where they had been placed. They were an attempt to fill the empty space he had left behind. Dylan and I were inseparable growing up and people often said we were carbon copies of each other. When I struggled with multiplication tables, he would turn practice into games by weaving math into our pretend battles of war. He would go outside and play catch with me even when the cold kept everyone else inside. Over time things began to change. Dylan started spending more nights out with friends and would come home in the early morning hours. One night I saw him sitting at the kitchen table with tangled hair and unfocused eyes. He barely looked up as I walked past. Not long after that, Dylan disappeared. We eventually learned he had made his way to Pennsylvania and had begun struggling with substance abuse. The kitchen table that once held holiday dinners slowly became a place where bills piled up and quiet arguments filled the room late at night. Watching someone you love struggle with addiction changes the way you see the world. For me it sparked a constant question about how substances can alter the brain so strongly that they reshape a person’s behavior and future. That question eventually turned into a passion for science. I am studying biochemistry and hope to pursue pharmaceutical research focused on addiction and neurological disorders. My goal is to help develop therapies that support recovery and give people the chance to rebuild their lives. Another part of my identity that has shaped my experiences is being bisexual. Growing up in Missouri, where LGBTQ advocacy is limited, I often witnessed hostility toward queer people. Conversations about LGBTQ rights were often treated like political arguments instead of discussions about people and their dignity. It made being open about identity difficult and showed me how important visibility and education are. Moving to Pittsburgh for college has been a very different experience. Seeing a community where LGBTQ identities are supported and visible has been encouraging and has shown me how much environment can affect someone’s ability to feel safe being themselves. Before moving to Pittsburgh I tried to contribute to advocacy through a podcast I created. On the podcast I talked about political and social issues and worked to challenge misinformation while sharing my perspective on topics including LGBTQ rights. I believe education and conversation are powerful tools for encouraging understanding. Paying for college has been difficult for my family. My parents never had the opportunity to attend college themselves and the cost of tuition places a real strain on our finances. There is a possibility that I may need to transfer to a more affordable school to continue my education. Receiving this scholarship would reduce that burden and allow me to focus on my studies, research, and involvement in my community. This scholarship would help me continue pursuing my goals of contributing to scientific research while supporting communities that deserve understanding and opportunity.

Education has always represented opportunity in my family, and is a necessity that my parents were never fully able to pursue themselves. They worked hard to provide for our family, but financial limitations meant that higher education was not easily accessible to either of them. Growing up, I was told that I would be paying for my education, and that I would need to relentlessly work to create those opportunities for myself. I am currently pursuing a degree in biochemistry with minors in neuroscience, political science, and chemistry with the goal of working in pharmaceutical research. I’ve always been fascinated by science as it provides a way to understand the world at its most fundamental level. The ability to study biological systems, analyze chemical processes, and translate those discoveries into real-world medical advancements is what draws me to STEM, specifically the intersection of biology, chemistry and neuroscience where research as the power to directly improve or even save people’s lives. My passion for this field is also deeply personal. Addiction has impacted my family, and witnessing someone I care about struggle with substance dependence has shaped the direction of my academic and professional goals. Experiences like this have shown me how important scientific research is in developing better treatments and improving our understanding of neurological and biochemical processes involved in addiction. My long-term goal is to contribute to pharmaceutical research that develops therapies aimed at treating addiction and supporting recovery. During my undergraduate career, I am actively working to build the skills necessary to pursue this path. Beginning next semester, I will be working in a research laboratory where I will gain hands-on experience conducting scientific research. I also plan to pursue internships, research opportunities, and extracurricular activities that allow me to further explore pharmacology, neuroscience, and drug development. These experiences will help prepare me for graduate school and ultimately a career dedicated to scientific discovery and medical innovation. However, pursuing higher education has come with significant financial challenges. Paying for college has placed a considerable strain on my family, and financial uncertainty has even forced me to consider transferring schools in order to continue my education more affordably. Despite these obstacles, my commitment to my education and career goals has never wavered. Receiving this scholarship would make an enormous difference in my ability to continue pursuing my degree and academic opportunities. Financial support would allow me to focus more fully on my coursework, research, and professional development rather than the constant pressure of tuition costs. More importantly, it would help ensure that I can continue progressing toward my long-term goal of contributing to pharmaceutical research that helps individuals struggling with addiction. I am determined to use my education not only to advance my own future, but also to contribute to meaningful scientific progress that improves the lives of others. This scholarship would be an important step in helping me continue that journey.

Seated cross-legged on the living room carpet, I feverishly tore into my presents, each adorned with a tag inscribed “To: Ladybug,” my cherished nickname. However, nestled at the tree's base lay a small cluster of meticulously wrapped packages, their shiny bows glistening in the glow of the tree lights, each labeled for my older brother. Too enthralled by my gifts, I misinterpreted the disconsolate glances exchanged between my parents, assuming they were weary from the long day. It wasn’t until the ephemeral joy faded that I realized the gifts for Dylan remained untouched, a silent attempt to fill the space he had left behind. Dylan and I were inseparable, often called carbon copies of each other. Instead of watching me wrestle with multiplication tables, he would play “war,” cleverly weaving math into our battles. He would play catch with me in the backyard when nobody else braved the bitter chill. Eventually, Dylan began to spend more time with his friends, often returning in the early morning hours. One night, I found him sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes unfocused and hair tangled, and he did not look up as I passed. The next morning, Dylan disappeared, eventually resurfacing in Pennsylvania, where we learned he had begun his struggle with substance abuse. Once a place for holidays and laughter, the kitchen table began to shake under the weight of piling bills, and the night air grew thick with my parents’ whispered arguments. Watching someone you love slowly lose themselves to addiction changes the way you see the world. For me, it mingled with my underlying adoration for science, and I questioned “why?”. What brain functions are overpowered by the substances that my brother had consumed and why had they controlled him so much that his will, relationships, and future were completed altered? Today, I am pursuing a degree in biochemistry with the goal of working in pharmaceutical research, studying the biochemical and neurological mechanisms of addiction and developing therapies that can help people recover from substance dependence. Addiction is often discussed as a moral failing, but the science behind it is one I have just began to understand as processes in neurochemistry, receptor signaling, and interactions between environment and biology. Understanding those mechanisms is the first step toward designing treatments that can truly help people regain control of their lives. My path toward that goal is already taking shape. As an undergraduate, I have secured a position in a research laboratory beginning next semester, where I will gain hands-on experience in biochemical research. I also plan to further pursue internships, research collaborations, and extracurricular opportunities that will allow me to deepen my understanding of pharmacology and neuroscience. These experiences will prepare me for graduate study and, ultimately, a career dedicated to developing therapies that address addiction and related neurological disorders. My parents were never given the opportunity to pursue higher education, and supporting my own education has been a challenge. Financial strain may even require me to transfer schools in order to continue pursuing my degree. However, these challenges have only strengthened my determination as education is not a simple aspiration, but a required pathway to make a tangible difference in the lives of people like my brother. Science gives us the tools to understand the mechanisms behind suffering, but more importantly, it gives us the power to change outcomes. By pursuing a career in pharmaceutical research, I hope to contribute to discoveries that transform addiction from a cycle of loss into a pathway toward recovery.