What I consider to be my most unique quality is my identity. It extends to my race, sexuality, gender, and dreams. I've spent much of my life searching for answers to my endless stream of questions in a quest to discover more of myself. My identity is the biggest part of who I am and who I strive to be and it makes me stand out amongst others. My Hawaiian heritage is an aspect of myself that I used to be ashamed of. Growing up, everyone at school would gawk at me like a zoo animal. I was an oddity because of my tan, sun-kissed skin, my deep brown hair they'd often argue was black, and the fact that my mom was white; everyone in my family is white. This distinction made me stick out like a sore thumb in public and I was constantly suffocating from a looming sense of self-consciousness. This feeling has never fully left me, but over the years it has shrunken. Now, after having many honest conversations with my mom and finding out more about my Hawaiian side, I only feel pride in who I am. I understand that I am different, but that difference is meant to be celebrated. While exploring my race, I also began to develop thoughts about my body as I aged and grew. Fifth grade is when I first started to experience thoughts that for some reason I would like to be a boy. I would fantasize about having a flat chest, short hair, and a deeper voice because I would look more masculine. I began doubting who I was. I was living in Indiana, a state with a highly conservative population, and so I felt that I was cornered in my mind and body. As I picked apart my gender, I also struggled to find a label for my attraction. In middle school, I heard nearly every kid talking about dating, kissing, boyfriends, and girlfriends, but I felt like I was lagging. I've never desired a relationship and I even tried to force myself to like someone in a desperate attempt at being normal. My battle with accepting myself continued until high school when I finally had a grasp on my sense of gender and attraction. It took many years, and though my journey is not yet over, I can now confidently say that I am transgender and aroace. Since I was young, I've taken a strong interest in education and language. English has been one of my best friends for all of my life and I want to share this passion with others. Neither of my parents went to college and only my dad finished high school; however, my mom is currently getting her GED at 37 years old. My pride for her is swelling, and hers for mine. I've had my eye on colleges and universities for years now because I want to learn all I can about English, Spanish, writing, linguistics, and teaching. I will be the first in my family to attend secondary school and I carry that part of my identity with a smile. I am a worthy recipient of this scholarship because, with it, I will do my part to change the world and spread education to students. I am determined to achieve my dreams and know that I can.

Throughout my life, I've heard the word 'successful' thrown around to define a narrow and specific type of person: wealthy, attractive, and charismatic. My mom, however, wanted me to think of success as getting the highest grades in school. To her, my success was based solely on my academics, and for years, I believed it was too. My academic career has been a defining part of my life. Since I started school, my mom pushed and encouraged me to be the best at everything. Through elementary school, I was the start student, the envied teacher's pet, and the smartest kid in my class. In middle school, my grades were straight A's and I had perfect attendance; I stayed out of trouble and away from bad influences because I needed to be successful in school. My success came directly from my academic performance; so when Covid-19 struck, I felt as if the world was imploding on me. Covid had the biggest impact on my last year of middle school when I was in 8th grade. Previously, the future looked promising: my grades were top-notch, I was taking an honors math class, and I had felt that I secured my position as the most successful student. Unfortunately, the Covid pandemic would quickly prove me fatally wrong. Mine and millions of other schools were paused for nearly a year. To compromise, my middle school incorporated a new type of learning: hybrid. We had to learn at home outside of the classroom, without the teacher present, and with distractions everywhere, for three days of the week. For the other two, we sat in class with the teacher, but many students were severely behind on material because they couldn't learn it properly without a classroom setting. I was one of them. At the end of middle school, I was failing nearly every single one of my classes. I became severely depressed and anxious about everything. My mom and I were arguing and fighting every day, and the worst grade I've ever received was a seven percent in algebra. As I started to prepare for my dreaded high school years, my mindset had drastically changed: I considered myself the largest failure ever to come out of middle school. I convinced myself that I would never amount to anything and that I would never do anything with my life. Continuing with this thought pattern, my sophomore year was no better. By then, I started to feel frustrated with myself and my lack of concern for the future. All around me, my friends were in high standing, receiving ribbons and praise for their grades and work ethic. They reminded me of who I used to be, and they reminded me of who I still want to be. After my second year of high school, I wanted to pull myself out of my self-dug grave. I had no idea how I would, but within me, there was a surge of newfound motivation. My junior year of high school was when I made the most progress, both academically and personally. I came clean to my mom about my mental health struggles, and she supported me through my journey with therapy, medications, and doctor appointments. For the first time in years, I made an effort in my classes. Although still not the best, I failed only one class instead of failing all but one; but I didn't want to stop yet. That year, I also began to retake classes for which I had failed or received a low grade. I relearned biology, algebra, English 9, English 10, and US history. My GPA has grown exponentially, from a 1.8 to a 2.9. Now, for the first time since middle school, I'm earning straight A's. Additionally, I now have a plan to attend college and attain a degree in English so I can share my love of language with others, and I'm on track to graduate high school with academic honors. My road to success is not over; there are miles of hills, sharp turns, and obstacles that I still need to overcome before I can call myself successful. For now, though, I am proud of how far I've pushed myself to come and where I will soon be heading. My victories come in small packages: a smile from my friend, my sister asking me for help with homework, an A- on a math quiz, or remembering to take my medicine. My success is measured by my work ethic and my will to help others, so I know I am close to attaining true success. This scholarship opportunity will be a major help in paying for tuition, following my dream career, and helping me become the first in my family to graduate from college.

Writing is what you make it: it can be an outlet for stress, allowing people to scribble out endless scrawls of words as fast as they think them. Writing can be moving and artistic, like poetry, with the power to touch millions' hearts and minds and make them think, believe, and feel. It can be technical, grammatical, and used to create compelling arguments for passionate souls. Writing is a powerful tool in any capacity, and I use it to curate endless stories and poems. Even as a child, I recall being captivated by English and words of all kinds. I never felt more right than when I was clutching a pencil and jotting down every word that flowed from my brain to my fingertips. It was vitilizing. I filled pages upon pages of notebooks with short stories inspired by life events and other books I had read. Whenever I'm not using notebooks, I utilize Google Docs to write poetry to expand my love of creative writing. Most of my stories feature protagonists with personalities based somewhat on myself, and they often face challenges that mirror common problems in the real world. I enjoy making diverse characters with unique backgrounds, even if they are secondary or one-offs. Though my poems are primarily free verse, I've recently been experimenting with various types such as sonnets and haikus. Additionally, I've tried switching up stanza length, line length, rhyme schemes, and figurative language to make my works more interesting. This is where I find joy in poetry: creative freedom. I often find myself inspired to write poetry when creativity strikes, compelling me to express my thoughts and emotions through art. They usually contain thoughtful and deep themes such as grief, nostalgia, freedom, and forgiveness conveyed through contrast and symbolism. As I head into my final semester of high school and graduate in May, I am taking steps to ensure that I major in English and become a teacher to share this love of writing with others. While in college, I plan on writing in my free time to continue expressing myself through paper when my voice fails to carry the same messages. I will be sure to bring at least one notebook with me wherever I go so I can have a place to jot down ideas when they come to me. I also expect to educate myself further on grammar and literature, both important aspects of language so I can excel academically.

Writing is what you make it: it can be an outlet for stress, allowing people to scribble out endless scrawls of words as fast as they think them. Writing can be moving and artistic, like poetry, with the power to touch millions' hearts and minds and make them think, believe, and feel. It can be technical, and grammatical, and used to create compelling arguments for passionate souls. In any capacity, writing is a powerful tool, and I use it for curating endless amounts of stories and poems. Even as a child, I recall being captivated by English and words of all kinds. I never felt more right than when I was clutching a pencil and jotting down every word that flowed from my brain to my fingertips. It was vitalizing. I filled pages upon pages of notebooks with short stories inspired by life events and other books that I had read. Whenever I'm not using notebooks, I'm utilizing Google Docs to write poetry so I can expand my love of creative writing. Most of my stories feature protagonists with personalities based somewhat on myself, and they often face challenges that mirror common problems in the real world. I find enjoyment in making diverse characters with unique backgrounds, even if they are secondary or one-offs. Though my poems are primarily free verse, I've recently been experimenting with various types such as sonnets and haikus. Additionally, I've tried switching up stanza length, line length, rhyme schemes, and figurative language to make my works more interesting. This is where I find joy in poetry: creative freedom. I often find myself inspired to write poetry when creativity strikes, compelling me to express my thoughts and emotions through art. They usually contain thoughtful and deep themes such as grief, nostalgia, freedom, and forgiveness that are conveyed through contrast and symbolism. As I prepare to head into my final semester of high school and graduate in May, I am taking steps to ensure that I major in English and become a teacher so I can share this love of writing with others. This is the driving force behind why I want to further my education. While in college, I plan on writing in my free time so I can continue to express myself through paper when my voice fails to carry the same messages. I will be sure to carry at least one notebook with me wherever I go so I can have a place to jot down ideas when they come to me. I also expect to educate myself further on grammar and literature, both important aspects of language, so I can excel academically.

Minecraft was one of the first video games I played with my older brother. Before he got his xBox 360, I simply watched with enjoyment and adoration as he played different games on his old DS Lite. When we started playing Minecraft, I was terrified of going out at night and having to face the deadly spiders and skeletons lurking around every tree. I much preferred to stay inside our wooden hut and cook food. My brother though, would be gone for days mining iron, gold, coal, and fearlessly slaying all kinds of mobs and monsters without a second thought. I would watch him do this every time we played, and I soon felt invigorated and inspired by his actions. This is why, though simple, my favorite aspect of Minecraft is the monsters. From skeletons to strays; slimes to silverfish; and creepers to zombies, Minecraft has never lost a drop of creativity in creating different monsters and enemies to defeat. I began with slaying easy and simple mobs like zombies, and now I can confidently and masterfully defeat a slew of unique monsters such as Wither skeletons, Breezes, Strays, and Pillagers. I recognize that I would never have the confidence or skills to do what I do if it wasn't for my older brother, and the times we spent together hunting mobs will always be memories that I cherish. With each update that Minecraft receives, I always look forward to the new mobs and enemies the most. Minecraft has, and always will be, more than just a game to me. It is my childhood and happiness, my innocence and drive; it is how I connect with people online and in person. I've watched this video game evolve and grow into what it is today, and I've seen more and more people make valuable memories just like I and my brother did so many years ago.

Writing is what you make it: it can be an outlet for stress, allowing people to scribble out endless scrawls of words as fast as they think them. Writing can be moving and artistic, like poetry, with the power to touch millions' hearts and minds and make them think, believe, and feel. It can be technical, and grammatical, and used to create compelling arguments for passionate souls. In any capacity, writing is a powerful tool, and I use it for curating endless amounts of stories and poems. Even as a child, I recall being captivated by English and words of all kinds. I never felt more right than when I was clutching a pencil and jotting down every word that flowed from my brain to my fingertips. It was vitilizing. I filled pages upon pages of notebooks with short stories inspired by life events and other books that I had read. Whenever I'm not using notebooks, I'm utilizing Google Docs to write poetry so I can expand my love of creative writing. Most of my stories feature protagonists with personalities based somewhat on myself, and they often face challenges that mirror common problems in the real world. I find enjoyment in making diverse characters with unique backgrounds, even if they are secondary or one-offs. Though my poems are primarily free verse, I've recently been experimenting with various types such as sonnets and haikus. Additionally, I've tried switching up stanza length, line length, rhyme schemes, and figurative language to make my works more interesting. This is where I find joy in poetry: creative freedom. I often find myself inspired to write poetry when creativity strikes, compelling me to express my thoughts and emotions through art. They usually contain thoughtful and deep themes such as grief, nostalgia, freedom, and forgiveness that are conveyed through contrast and symbolism. As I prepare to head into my final semester of high school and graduate in May, I am taking steps to ensure that I major in English and become a teacher so I can share this love of writing with others. While in college, I plan on writing in my free time so I can continue to express myself through paper when my voice fails to carry the same messages. I will be sure to carry at least one notebook with me wherever I go so I can have a place to jot down ideas when they come to me. I also expect to educate myself further on grammar and literature, both important aspects of language, so I can excel academically.

I loved reading the moment I could understand language. Each book I discovered was truly magical; they transported me away from my hectic and unstable life and I received a chance to meld myself into an entirely different world. This love for language and words has fueled most of my interests and is why I am passionate about foreign languages, dialects, English, and etymology. Language is flexible: it can be artistic or technical; it is powerful and moving; it can bring humans together despite our vast differences. To further my love of English and foreign languages, I began to study several by myself and with others. My high school offered a sign language club and I was giddy just hearing about it. The instructor was certified and had worked as an interpreter for several years, so I didn't have to worry about incorrect lessons. We covered grammar, words, and deaf culture until the club was lamentably disbanded two years ago. Despite this, I continued studying and learning sign language with another club member after school. Additionally, I began studying Spanish in my first year of high school and am currently in Spanish IV, a college class. Spanish has been a major source of joy in my life because of how many opportunities it gives me to connect with people online and in real life. It's something special to see how a person's eyes light up when you can converse with them in their native tongue, even if it's just a few words. Besides foreign languages, I believe that English itself is a deeply moving, beautifully complicated language. Last year, I enrolled in an etymology class, where we studied the history of English and the roots and stems that makeup nearly every word we use in everyday conversations. Did you know that despite English being a Germanic language, we borrowed most of our words from French and Latin? Simply learning hasn't felt like enough for me as of late. Recently, I've found myself desiring the ability to teach others about language. As it will be a while until I apply and attend a college a university, I've taken steps to educate others about the joys of language and school. This year, I am tutoring middle school students who are struggling with math and English, and I am extremely excited to begin. I believe that with younger students, it's important to develop a love for school so that they can have a better shot at high school and college. If I could start a charity, I would make it its mission to provide free schooling to homeless students and adults. Every US citizen has a right to education and it saddens me that thousands of them aren't given adequate resources in order to attain it. I would make it a point to serve students, adult and adolescent, free lessons skills in math, writing, reading. Volunteers would help to educate or tutor and would organize times of the day and week that lessons would take place.

My mom was 19 when she was pregnant with me, her second child. Now, she is 37 and working in a factory to make car parts for $20 an hour, sometimes up to 60 hours per week. For most of what I can remember as a child, my mother worked random jobs at convenience stores for a low salary. Sometimes, it feels as if not much has changed since then. When I was younger, I wondered if I was destined to lead that same dull, unfulfilling life that seemed to drain every ounce of happiness from my mom's eyes. When I was about six years old, I asked her what she wanted to be when she was a kid; all I can remember was how she hesitated. In many ways, she was still a kid back then, but she had to grow up so fast that she didn't even have a chance to think about her future as an adult. She made sacrifice after sacrifice for me and my older brother and did so as a single mom for most of our lives. At school, sometimes the topic of parents and family would come up, which would inevitably lead to kids talking about how old their parents are, and they were always surprised at my answers. Their reactions made me feel singled out and strange. I didn't appreciate it then, but my mom was working hard every day for the sake of us, which meant that she had to work longer shifts at work. We never had a ton of money despite her long hours, but she always made sure we had what we needed, and she emphasized the importance of staying in school, and achieving good grades so that we could go to college and work a good job. When you're younger, sometimes the advice you receive from adults can seem chastizing or overbearing, but then you'll realize that they only hope you don't make the same bad decisions they did. When I grew up and matured, I knew by then that money was tight and scarce, so I put forth my aspiration to be something great that would bring us real money. I wanted to be a doctor, a scientist, a lawyer, an engineer, any job that would ensure I would be financially secure. However, my mom urged me to chase after a career that I would enjoy, and she told me that money isn't everything in a job. Even now, I sit on the fence between going to college to be a linguist, my dream job, or learning how to be a plumber so I can start fresh out of high school making good money. My mother being a teen mom severely limited her career and life choices, but she never let that hinder the options that her children have.

My struggles and experiences with mental health have helped me to become the person I am today. Despite the turmoil and pain, I am proud of myself for coming out of it a stronger and wiser person. My first touch of experiencing my mental health was when I first enrolled in middle school. I was battling undiagnosed and untreated depression and anxiety, which caused me to feel constantly at odds with the entire world. I was alone and scared, but too stubborn to ask for help; I was perpetually on edge and never focused on school. My grades plummeted, for the first time in my academic career, and I was faced with a report card filled with F's and D's. It was devastating to me, the star student. The nerd. The teacher's pet. This was often a point of contention for me and my mom; she couldn't understand what had happened. I didn't see it then, but I know now that my mom wanted the best for me. It was a Herculean task, pushing myself to open up, but when I finally did, my options opened up too. My mom was understanding, and our relationship has improved tenfold ever since. Back in middle school, and into my first years of high school, I felt and knew for sure that I would never do anything important with my life. I had no goals and no plans for the future. But, as previously stated, my life was finally turning around after telling my mom how I was feeling. Fast forward to now, and I'm openly passionate about the things I love, which include a variety of topics from video games and coffee, to etymology and foreign languages. Receiving the help I needed and talking about mental health without being judged was a major help in getting me back on track to where I know I can go: college. I know the world is often unkind and harsh to those with mental health disorders. I've seen it firsthand at my schools and out in public. I find it disheartening that such an important topic is treated as hush hush and is so stigmatized. Mental health should be supported and advocated for, instead of treated as taboo.