In middle school, I experienced a life-altering event. My dad was diagnosed with a glioblastoma and had a prognosis of life around 1-3 years. After school, I would go home to my dad, and I slowly saw his brain deteriorate as the tumor grew. My grades slowly slipped due to my inability to care about school since I had what I deemed as more pressing matters in my home life. In seventh grade, I met my math teacher. Little did she know that she was my savior and rock during that period of my life. Every day during her lunch, she would help me and two of her students with our algebra. We all began to grow closer over the semester, and we shared our personal experiences. We talked about our accomplishments, goals, and struggles. My teacher helped me through anything from drama within friend groups to growing my faith in my walk with God. She made me fall in love with math and the idea of pursuing a job in education. She took time away from her busy schedule as a teacher to help the students struggling with math and real-life issues. Teachers are already expected to go above and beyond with their jobs; however, she has surpassed all of a teacher's expectations. She wanted to make a difference in her students' lives, and she did. I believe every student should be able to have a personal connection with a teacher sometime during their school years. Connections like what I had with my teacher help students grow outside of the classroom environment. I want to be like my seventh-grade math teacher when I finish school. I plan to pursue a degree in education to impact the future generation, as my teacher did for me. I want my students to be able to use me as a resource. Whether students need educational help or real-life problems, I want to be able to guide students in the direction they need. As a teenager, life can be challenging to navigate. Teenagers are discovering their likes and dislikes, personalities, passions, career goals, and so much more. All students deserve the chance to have a teacher who can help guide them when they need some extra help, and I hope to be that to any of my students who need me. My seventh-grade teacher was a light in my life, and I hope to continue her legacy and be a light in my future students' lives.

In March of 2020, my carefree, healthy, loving dad was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumor. Statistically, less than 40% of those diagnosed live longer than a year having a glioblastoma. Being the strong man he was, he continued to perform his daily activities as if nothing had happened and ensured he was still a part of the essential aspects of my life, like becoming president of my summer swim team. No matter what, he came to every swim meet and cheered me on. However, the tumor grew, and my family watched my dad fade away. The laughter lines around his eyes disappeared, and his eyes faded into empty pupils with little thought behind them. While I was away for a championship swim meet, my mom sat with him as he took his final breath. I left the swim meet the next day to return home to a house without my dad. From then on, functioning normally without my dad seemed an impossible feat. Swimming, once my greatest joy, became a painful reminder of what I'd lost. Knowing I would never experience his physical presence at my swim meets hurt unimaginably. I began to have panic attacks every swim meet due to the constant reminder I had lost someone for whom I had the most tremendous amount of love. I felt powerless that I couldn’t do anything to help the 15,000 Americans, including my dad, who desperately needed a cure each year. Shortly after his death, I found a flier for the Swim Across America (SAA) Foundation, which raises money for cancer research centers across America. Determined to channel my grief into action, I signed up. A couple of close teammates and I participated in the first annual Chapel Hill SAA swim. Through this, my teammates and I were part of an event that allowed us to share our stories. Another teammate also lost her father a couple of months before mine. Together, we used our grief to share our stories about how cancer has altered our lives. Determined to fight cancer, we raised $11,000 as a team. The following year, more of my teammates were able to be a part of the Chapel Hill SAA swim, and about 20 of my teammates raised $8,700. Unfortunately, the biggest setback was that many of my other teammates couldn’t participate due to traveling and lack of space. Because of this, I spent months planning and organizing a new SAA swim at my swim club for my local community. I faced many challenges in organizing a new swim; however, I approached all obstacles with perseverance, and the swim was officially happening. In the 2024 Granite Falls swim, my team raised $17,200. Planning this swim was deeply rewarding, as I could see my community use this platform to work together to share how cancer had impacted their life. It has been two years, and I am still in no way over his death; however, I have learned how to cope to heal the massive wound in my heart. For me, participating in SAA events enables me to cope with the tragic loss of my father by knowing the money I raise is going to help find a cure for the next family that encounters this horrible disease. It has fueled a deeper purpose in me. My involvement with SAA has taught me the power of resilience, perseverance, and community support. It makes me happy to know I am helping in the fight against cancer. As I move forward, I carry his memory with me in every stroke, grateful to know I’m helping fight cancer.

In middle school, I experienced a life-altering event. My dad was diagnosed with a glioblastoma and had a prognosis of life around 1-3 years. After school, I would go home to my dad, and I slowly saw his brain deteriorate as the tumor grew. My grades slowly slipped due to my inability to care about school since I had what I deemed as more pressing matters in my home life. In seventh grade, I met my math teacher. Little did she know that she was my savior and rock during that period of my life. Every day during her lunch, she would help me and two of her students with our algebra. We all began to grow closer over the semester, and we shared our personal experiences. We talked about our accomplishments, goals, and struggles. My teacher helped me through anything from drama within friend groups to growing my faith in my walk with God. She made me fall in love with math and the idea of pursuing a job in education. She took time away from her busy schedule as a teacher to help the students struggling with math and real-life issues. Teachers are already expected to go above and beyond with their jobs; however, she has surpassed all of a teacher's expectations. She wanted to make a difference in her students' lives, and she did. I believe every student should be able to have a personal connection with a teacher sometime during their school years. Connections like what I had with my teacher help students grow outside of the classroom environment. I want to be like my seventh-grade math teacher when I finish school. I plan to pursue a degree in education to impact the future generation, as my teacher did for me. I want my students to be able to use me as a resource. Whether students need educational help or real-life problems, I want to be able to guide students in the direction they need. As a teenager, life can be challenging to navigate. Teenagers are discovering their likes and dislikes, personalities, passions, career goals, and so much more. All students deserve the chance to have a teacher who can help guide them when they need some extra help, and I hope to be that to any of my students who need me. My seventh-grade teacher was a light in my life, and I hope to continue her legacy and be a light in my future students' lives.

As I get ready to graduate high school as a student-athlete, I’ve started to realize how hard it is to leave my swim team behind. This team has been there for me since my freshman year—they’ve seen me at my best and my worst. Being part of something bigger than myself taught me what it really means to support and be supported. Looking back on my time as a captain, I’ve come to appreciate just how much love and loyalty exists between teammates. Even though I won’t be diving in with them anymore, I know I’ll always have a place with them on the pool deck. The photo portfolio I submitted reflects that feeling. Each image shows how teammates show up for each other, whether they’re celebrating a win or hugging seniors after their final meet. I wanted my photos to capture those little in-between moments—real emotions that speak louder than words. I chose to make the photos black and white because it helps focus on the emotions and expressions without the distraction of color. It adds a sense of depth and makes the connection between teammates feel more powerful and honest. These photos represent the kind of bond that doesn’t end when the season does.

In March of 2020, my carefree, healthy, loving dad was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumor. Statistically speaking, less than 40% of those diagnosed live longer than a year having a glioblastoma. Being the strong man he was, he continued to perform his daily activities as if nothing had happened and ensured he was still part of the essential aspects of my life, like becoming president of my summer swim team. No matter what, he came to every swim meet and cheered me on. However, the tumor grew, and my family watched my dad fade away. The laughter lines around his eyes disappeared, and his eyes faded into empty pupils with little thought behind them. While I was away for a championship swim meet, my mom sat with him as he took his final breath. I left the meet the next day to return home to a house without my dad. From then on, functioning normally without him seemed impossible. Swimming, once my greatest joy, became a painful reminder of what I'd lost. Knowing I would never experience his physical presence at my meets again hurt unimaginably. I began to have panic attacks every meet due to the constant reminder I had lost someone for whom I had the most tremendous love. I felt powerless that I couldn’t do anything to help the 15,000 Americans, including my dad, who desperately needed a cure each year. Shortly after his death, I found a flier for the Swim Across America (SAA) Foundation, which raises money for cancer research centers across America. Determined to channel my grief into action, I signed up. A couple of close teammates and I participated in the first annual Chapel Hill SAA swim. Through this, we were part of an event that allowed us to share our stories. We were able to use our grief to show how cancer had altered our lives. Determined to fight cancer, we raised $11,000 as a team. The following year, more teammates joined, and about 20 of us raised $8,700. Unfortunately, the biggest setback was that most others couldn’t participate due to traveling and lack of space. Because of this, I spent several months planning and organizing a new SAA swim at my swim club for my local community. I faced many challenges in organizing it; however, I approached all obstacles with great perseverance, and the swim was officially happening. In the 2024 Granite Falls swim, my team raised $17,200. Planning this swim was deeply rewarding, as I could see my community use this platform to work together to share how cancer had impacted their life. It has been two years since his passing, and I am still in no way over his death; however, participating in SAA events enables me to cope with the tragic loss of my father by knowing the money I raise is going to help find a cure for the next family that encounters this horrible disease. It has fueled a deeper purpose in me. My involvement with SAA has taught me the power of resilience, perseverance, and community support. It makes me happy to know I am helping in the fight against cancer. As I move forward, I carry his memory with me in every stroke, grateful to know I’m helping in the fight against cancer.

In middle school, I experienced a life-altering event. My dad was diagnosed with a glioblastoma and had a prognosis of life around 1-3 years. After school, I would go home to my dad, and I slowly saw his brain deteriorate as the tumor grew. My grades slowly slipped due to my inability to care about school since I had what I deemed as more pressing matters in my home life. In seventh grade, I met my math teacher. Little did she know that she was my savior and rock during that period of my life. Every day during her lunch, she would help me and two of her students with our algebra. We all began to grow closer over the semester, and we shared our personal experiences. We talked about our accomplishments, goals, and struggles. My teacher helped me through anything from drama within friend groups to growing my faith in my walk with God. She made me fall in love with math and the idea of pursuing a job in education. She took time away from her busy schedule as a teacher to help the students struggling with math and real-life issues. Teachers are already expected to go above and beyond with their jobs; however, she has surpassed all of a teacher's expectations. She wanted to make a difference in her students' lives, and she did. I believe every student should be able to have a personal connection with a teacher sometime during their school years. Connections like what I had with my teacher help students grow outside of the classroom environment. I want to be like my seventh-grade math teacher when I finish school. I plan to pursue a degree in education to impact the future generation, as my teacher did for me. I want my students to be able to use me as a resource. Whether students need educational help or real-life problems, I want to be able to guide students in the direction they need. As a teenager, life can be challenging to navigate. Teenagers are discovering their likes and dislikes, personalities, passions, career goals, and so much more. All students deserve the chance to have a teacher who can help guide them when they need some extra help, and I hope to be that to any of my students who need me. My seventh-grade teacher was a light in my life, and I hope to continue her legacy and be a light in my future students' lives.

People are who they were raised by. While most people think children only reflect their parents’ behavior, they also mimic their teacher's behavior. Children are at school learning for about thirty to forty hours a week. With students constantly being around their teachers, teachers hold great power over the perspectives they teach their students. Most teachers try to stay unbiased, especially in areas like historical and political knowledge. However, not all teachers remain unbiased. Teachers may show or make sexist, racist, agist, homophobic, and other comments in the classroom. Students tend to pick up on these comments or actions and mimic them because they learn that this is how people act when they grow older. As students grow into the world, they should be able to develop their opinions and determine right from wrong. After college, I plan to follow the path of becoming an educator. As an educator, I see myself contributing to a more just society by allowing my students to form their own opinions about the world. In most cases, kids have a great sense of ethics when treating others with respect and love. Especially at a young age, most kids do not understand the political issues that adults run into. Therefore, kids see most problems in black and white. There are usually no other outside factors playing into kids' issues. They can solve a problem without skewed views from the outside world. I plan to encourage students to follow their ethics and morals rather than mimic what they observe others do. I also plan to show as slight bias as possible in my classroom. I want my students to be able to form their own opinions about the world in which they are growing up. By student creating their own views, they are able to make a difference in the world. They can fix the variety of problems that Americans face. They can fight for a cause that they personally believe in. By being an unbiased teacher, teachers are able to let kids come to their own conclusions about what is wrong in their society or even the world currently. Students should be able to identify the problems in their society and implement and fight for ways to change or fix them. My main hope for my students is to go into the world treating others better than we currently do, ultimately creating a more just society.

In March of 2020, my carefree, healthy, loving dad was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumor. Statistically speaking, less than 40% of those diagnosed live longer than a year having a glioblastoma. Being the strong man he was, he continued to perform his daily activities as if nothing had happened and ensured that he was still a part of the essential aspects of my life, like becoming president of my summer swim team. No matter what, he came to every swim meet and cheered me on. However, the tumor grew, and my family watched my dad fade away. The laughter lines around his eyes disappeared, and his eyes faded into empty pupils with little thought behind them. While I was away for a championship swim meet, my mom sat with him as he took his final breath. I left the swim meet the following day to return home to a house without my dad. From then on, functioning normally without my dad seemed an impossible feat. Swimming, once my greatest joy, became a painful reminder of what I'd lost. Knowing I would never experience his physical presence at my swim meets ever again hurt unimaginably. I began to have panic attacks every swim meet due to the constant reminder I had lost someone for whom I had the most tremendous amount of love. I felt powerless that I couldn’t do anything to help the 15,000 Americans, including my dad, who desperately needed a cure each year. Shortly after his death, I found a flier for the Swim Across America (SAA) Foundation, which raises money for cancer research centers across America. Determined to channel my grief into action, I signed up. A couple of close teammates and I participated in the first annual Chapel Hill SAA swim. Through this, my teammates and I were part of an event that allowed us to share our stories. We were able to use our grief to share our stories about how cancer has altered our lives. Determined to fight cancer, we raised $11,000 as a team. The following year, more of my teammates were able to be a part of the Chapel Hill SAA swim, and about 20 of my teammates raised $8,700. Unfortunately, the most significant setback about this event was that most of my other teammates could not participate with me due to traveling and lack of space. Because of this, I spent several months planning and organizing a new SAA swim at my swim club for my local community. I faced many challenges in organizing a new swim; however, I approached all the obstacles with great perseverance, and the swim was officially happening. In the 2024 Granite Falls swim, my team raised $17,200. Planning this swim was deeply rewarding, as I could see my community use this platform to work together to share how cancer had impacted their life. It has been two years since his passing, and I am still in no way over his death; however, participating in SAA events enables me to cope with the tragic loss of my father by knowing that the money I raise is going to help find a cure for the next family that encounters this horrible disease. It has fueled a deeper purpose in me. My involvement with SAA has taught me the power of resilience, perseverance, and community support. It makes me happy to know I am helping in the fight against Cancer. As I move forward, I carry his memory with me in every stroke, grateful to know I’m helping in the fight against cancer.