“I think I can see the Circle from here!” announced Scorsos. Terras shrugged. “Of course you can, it’s like, a quarter mile away,” she groaned. “We shouldn’t be looking down, anyway. Just focus on watching your step, you klutz.” “Hey, let me have this!” Scorsos said as he tiptoed along the rocky cliffs. “It’s been a million years since anything interesting has happened, this is a step up! Heh, literally.” Terras huffed and kept her gaze straight. She really would’ve preferred to scale the cliff by herself, as she was struggling to focus even without his gabbing. Though, if she ended up finding that sarahsaurus herd like she hoped, she’d need an extra set of teeth to help take one down- that’s where her brother Scorsos came in. He wasn’t the sharpest dilophosaurus in the pack, but she knew she could trust him to climb the clifftop with… minimal adult approval. “You checked on Shalas before we left, right?” Terras asked. Even though she didn’t know it, Shalas was most of the reason her and Scorsos were running off this morning. Prey had been in a steady decline for weeks now, and the hatching of Shalas’ chicks brought the pack both great joy and a lingering sense of worry. Her whole clutch had come into the world happy and healthy, but now, the pressure was on to keep it that way. “Yeah, the babies were doin’ okay. Aeritra found them a few lizards to nibble at,” Scorsos reported. “Well good. Do they have names yet?” “Not yet. She’s calling the one with the red crest “Booger,” but I think it’s safe to say that’s just a placeholder,” he chuckled. “Oh! Cute,” Terras said. “Cute!” rasped a new voice from overhead. The dilophosaurs stopped in their tracks. “The hell?” said Terras. She looked back at Scorsos, who shook his head as if to say, “wasn’t me!” They then craned their necks to scan the upper cliff face. “Cute, CUTE!” it chirped again. This time, a flutter of fuzzy tan wings drew their attention to an outcrop in the rock. Perched atop it was a beady-eyed rhamphinion, peering down at the dinosaurs from what it knew was a safe distance. The little pterosaur had mimicked Terras’ growls, and was clearly having fun with its new vocabulary. “You calling US cute?!” Scorsos snarled. The rhamphinion fluttered again. “Ta-WEET-ta-WOO, ta-WEE- CUTE! ta-wee, eeet, EEET, EEET!” it chattered. It then rubbed its beak with its tiny hands like a winged mouse. “PUNK!” Scorsos jokingly snapped at it. Terras smiled at them and giggled. “Alright, let’s hope the sarahsaurs didn’t hear that,” she said. Scorsos stopped bristling. “Uh… Yeah.. Sorry,” he whispered. Terras brushed his tail with her own. “No biggie,” she told him. “Just try using that hunting voice of yours, I know it’s in there somewhere.” Scorsos nodded, looking as if he still felt guilty. He must be thinking about what he might’ve cost the pack. “Dude, it’s okay. The chicks’ll be fine. We’ll get them something,” she assured. She knew she couldn’t let him dwell on it, or they’d just talk in circles for the next era and a half. The dinosaurs trudged on for a few long, quiet moments, leaving only the warm breeze and hum of insects to prod at their stirring thoughts. …“LIKE THAT!” Scorsos suddenly erupted. Terras stopped and tried to turn around on the narrow cliff. For a sliver of a second, she saw a bark-colored snout in the rock before it retreated. It was much bigger than a lizard, and was tipped with a little pink nose. Even with the brief glance that she had, she recognized its owner right away: priacodon. Surely not a sarahsaurus, but this mangy mammal just might get the pack by until the next herd comes through. In a haste, Scorsos ducked down and snapped at it. His crests blocked his head from the mouth of the den, so he quickly turned to plan B. He scratched at the opening with his claws, but soon roared in pain. He has a bone deformity in his left arm that forces him to favor his right, but over the years, both of his arms had become agonizingly sensitive. “MOVE, LET ME TRY!” Terras barked. As soon as Scorsos’ hand was away from the hole, she shoved her own in and grabbed for the creature. She could only brush its pelt with her claws, but when she hit its snout, she received a pitiless bite as a comeback. Terras roared and writhed as she tried to pull her arm out, and she hit her flank on something she couldn’t see. She stumbled to her feet and inspected her punctured scales, wondering if there was something else they could try. “Well, that didn’t-….” Terras’ vocal cords froze like a dead lizard’s heart. Scorsos was gone. In his place, there was only a plume of dust, drifting along the rocky cliffside. In 2016, a research article was published by Paleontologist Philip J. Senter of Fayetteville State University and Bioarchaeologist Sara L. Juengst of Appalachian State University regarding a curious Dilophosaurus wetherilli specimen. The paper describes a dinosaur who appeared to have withstood a slew of pathologies over its lifetime, including bone deformities in its arms, various puncture wounds, and evidence of a fight or fall from a great height that broke its shoulder blade, arm, and many of its ribs. There is, however, evidence that this individual survived and healed for at least some time before death, as proven by visual regrowth of bone tissue. This specimen baffles scientists and leads to many theories as to what exactly happened, and currently holds the record for most bone maladities in the pectoral girdle of any known theropod dinosaur. Senter P, Juengst SL (2016) Record- Breaking Pain: The Largest Number and Variety of Forelimb Bone Maladies in a Theropod Dinosaur. PLoS ONE 11(2): e0149140. doi:10.1371/journal. pone.0149140

As a kid, I was positively obsessed with nature. I would always play outside no matter how hot it was, catch and release lizards, identify birds, and spend rainy days learning new facts to tell my friends. But it wasn’t just childhood wonder at play here. There was one central interest that always drove me to stay curious, and that was paleontology. I’ve been saying that I want to be a paleontologist since I could even utter the words, and my fascination with prehistory made me want to explore the world, past and present. But little did I know, I was already paving the way for the future as my pursuits, aspirations, and overall purpose in life took shape. This strong passion for dinosaurs readily followed me into adulthood, and my goal in life hasn’t changed. I aspire to contribute by either conducting my own research or helping out with someone else’s, ideally with a focus on evolution. During my upper-level studies of biology, I’ve learned more about evolution, and it’s only given me more questions to ask as I move on. I think it’s amazing how life forms are able to adapt so perfectly with what they’re given, and paleontology lets us see it play out over millions of years as we rebuild timelines and family trees. Through my studies, I hope to make an impact in the world of children’s pop science. I practically grew up on pop science, and it inspired me to choose STEM as a career! After I graduate, I have plans to develop an app for elementary schoolers to serve as a “field guide” of sorts. It would feature original art, verified facts, and an interactive interface to explore. This project will combine my lifelong love of art, science, and learning to help children experience Earth’s past in as much detail as possible, while still being easy to understand and navigate. If I can inspire at least one curious, passionate kid like I was, I will consider the mission a success. In reflecting on how long paleontology has been with me, being woven into my heart all through my developmental years, I see that “passion” means more than just a drive to do something. For me, passion is a sense of belonging, freedom, and purpose in life. Paleontology is all I’ve ever known as a future, and I often turn to it for reassurance- when I know what I was destined to do, it eases the unknowns of my path and reminds me that everything I’m doing today will pay off in the end. I’m able to look forward to the day when I can finally start studying dinosaurs as I’ve been dreaming of since I was a little girl. And so, by channeling this passion that I was lucky enough to be born with, using the tools it’s given me, and staying on track to reach my goals, I’ll leave no opportunities out of reach.

Hello, donors! My name is Lavinity Marx, and I’m a Floridian undergraduate majoring in general biology. I grew up homeschooled because my parents saw that I was born with a love of learning, and they thought it was important to foster that passion and allow my curriculum to be tailored towards things I wanted to learn about- besides the fundamentals, of course. Once I reached high school, I began virtual school so my mom could focus more on teaching my two younger sisters. At 16, I passed the PERT exam and started community college through dual-enrollment. I hit the ground running, as it wasn’t that different from the virtual school that I was used to, and graduated with an A.A. at 18. As I write, I’m enrolled at UCF, where I’ll be getting a B.S. in Biology as I plan for grad school. From my earliest memories, there was one thing that drove me to stay curious: dinosaurs. I’ve been saying that I want to be a paleontologist since I could even utter the words, and I was always eager to learn all I could about this lost world of reptiles. I even had what I called a Dinosaur Field Guide that I would add entries to as part of my schoolwork. I would research about a new dinosaur each day and draw a picture to go with it- that poor blue crayon that I would use for the sky bravely served in this project until it was reduced to a tiny wedge. This passion for paleontology has followed me into adulthood, and my overall goal in life hasn’t changed. I aspire to contribute by either conducting my own paleontological research or helping out with someone else’s, ideally with a focus on evolution. In my more advanced studies of biology, I’ve learned more about evolution, and it’s only given me more questions to ask as I move on. I think it’s amazing how life forms are able to adapt so perfectly with what they’re given, and paleontology lets us see it play out over millions of years as we rebuild timelines and family trees. Through my studies, I hope to make an impact in the world of children’s pop science. I practically grew up on pop science, and it inspired me to choose STEM as a career! After I graduate, I have plans to develop an app similar to the dinosaur field guide I used to have. It would feature original art, verified facts, and an interactive interface to explore. This project will combine my lifelong love of art, science, and learning to help children experience Earth’s past in as much detail as possible, while still being easy to understand and navigate. If I can inspire at least one curious, passionate kid like I was, I will consider the mission a success. By exposing young minds to paleontology, my wish is that they will also come to admire the world we live in today. I want them to say, “that’s cool!” Not only because, in my humble opinion, dinosaurs ARE cool, but because this all happened on our Earth. Despite all of biodiversity’s upheavals over the years, it always wins in the end, and I wholeheartedly feel that’s something to celebrate. Dinosaurs were just one chapter in Earth’s history, and they have ties to everything that came before and after them. I hope that by teaching about dinosaurs, kids will be encouraged to explore more for themselves; or as my childhood idol, Paleontologist Dr. Scott would say, “Get outside, get into nature, and make your own discoveries.”

Today, there is no single factor that threatens our planet by itself. What we’re facing is a combination of factors working together, each one coming by and throwing its kindling on the fire. These factors include burning of fossil fuels, deforestation, pollution, increasing use of non-renewables, and excessive factory farming that all contribute to one central problem: climate change, or as some have been calling it, the 6th extinction. Mass extinctions are not a new thing to planet Earth. In the past, life has bounced back from a plethora of devastating losses, the most famous being the K-PG extinction, the one that ended the Mesozoic era and killed the dinosaurs. The K-PG wasn’t even the worst extinction to date, that title belongs to the one that ended the Permian just before the Mesozoic, which wiped out 95% of all of life on Earth. But there’s something about this so-called “6th extinction” that sets it apart from the others: in all of natural history, this is the first time the events have been kicked off by the animals living on the planet, let alone by a single species. Regardless of the cause, we still have a mass extinction on our hands. By studying past events, we can see that Earth’s game plan is relatively the same: let the catastrophe happen, then wait until it’s safe to clean up to get the ball rolling again. This is part of what I hope to focus on with my career of vertebrate paleontology. I want to study ancient animals and how they lived, evolved, and adapted over millions of years. Through doing this, scientists like me will have access to a vital part of history as we’re facing our own event now: the story of how the world recovered from cataclysm. We can observe what evolutionary or climatic trends propelled life’s comeback and identify controllable factors that we can replicate today. We can then use these observations to cultivate a safe space where life can flourish before the worst of the storm hits, and maybe even prevent the worst from happening in the first place. Us humans have the fate of the Earth in our hands, and we’re running low on time to coordinate our plans for that power. I can advocate, recycle, clean up my town, and be resourceful all I want, but ultimately, nothing is going to change on a grand scale unless world governments start getting more involved. That’s not to say I shouldn’t do these things, and I will continue to do so, only that it’s necessary to acknowledge this fact as well. I won’t be the one at the lectern, giving speeches about grand plans to change the world, but my work on mass extinctions can help others know what to expect going forward, and it will benefit us to keep in mind one critical thing: Earth is going to heal, as it always has. Whether or not it brings us with it to the next chapter of natural history, however, is completely up to us. We have to decide whether we want to be helpers or roadblocks in Earth’s recovery, because we’re dealing with a force bigger than anything we could ever replicate, and it will treat us however it needs to to get its job done.

Hello scholarship donors! My name is Lavinity Marx. I am currently an A.A. graduate planning to pursue a B. S. in Biology this fall. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve known I would find my purpose in STEM. I was always testing hypotheses with things from around the house, reading science books, and sharing my findings with anyone I could. I wasn’t going for just any STEM career though, because I could see my final destination, even from all those miles away: I wanted to be a paleontologist. Paleontology is the study of ancient animals, plants, and climates. By looking into the past with fossils as our telescope, we can explore long-lost ecosystems that we’ll never get to see with our own eyes. After I graduate, I hope to help out with this by working at a university or museum, but no matter what I end up doing, a degree in paleontology will be invaluable. If I could choose absolutely anything to study, I’d love to dedicate my time to learning how ancient animals moved and lived. When I was little, I would always act out how different dinosaurs walked, sat, ran, stood, and how that helped them navigate their environments. I’ve also always been interested in “filling in the blanks” that fossils present; for example, trying to figure out what a skull might’ve looked like given a few teeth. With a bachelor’s degree in biology, I’ll be armed to tackle questions like that as I graduate: how did this animal move? Is it similar to any others we know? What would the muscles had to have looked like? Would this have made sense in the context of its environment? These are all things I wish to expand on as I gain experience and start coming face-to-face with fossil collections. Another plan I have is to make a difference in the world of pop science. Nonfiction science media consumed by laypeople and enthusiasts can spark passions, interests, and even make aspiring scientists like myself! When I was little, I had a “dinosaur field guide” app that acted as an encyclopedia- it had illustrations, basic facts, and a brief overview for over 100 dinosaurs and prehistoric animals. I would always get excited when it updated with new entries, and I browsed through it every day. Soon, I started making my own version on paper, backed up by outside internet research and drawings. I feel this is a personal legacy that I should continue, as I want to teach and inspire other curious children just as I had been. I plan to come out with an original “field guide” app, featuring my own artwork, research, and true stories about what it’s like to be a paleontologist. If I can provide leverage for at least one passionate, curious kid like my younger self, I’ll consider the mission a success. It goes without saying that paleontology continues to enamor me. While many scientists study what we have here and now, paleontology allows us to see millions, or sometimes billions of years into the past! And thanks to all of the recent advances in technology and accumulation of what scientists have learned so far, the field is going through a golden age as we speak! New species are being named all the time, and new aspects of known species are coming to light. It’s an exciting time, and I just hope there will be some things left to discover when I get there!

My path in life has been written out for as long as I can remember- it felt as if whatever driving force was controlling little Lavinity knew very well what it was doing, even before she did. This path ultimately leads to paleontology. This dynamic field is the unity of life, history, and the Earth itself, and it calls to me. Before I even knew how to pour my own cereal, I had decided what I wanted to do with my life: to be a paleontologist and work alongside other curious minds to learn all we can about this long-gone world. Even today, I’ve faithfully stayed on a straight trajectory to make it happen. Sometimes I wonder if some sort of destiny is playing out here, or if little me was simply so enamored by the prehistoric world that it planned out my whole future right then and there. Regardless, I’m happy with the road I’ve chosen, and nothing could convince me to change it- not even a life of luxury or all the chocolate I could eat! But as I got older, I realized that this might not be as easy as I thought it would be. At about age 12, vicious anxiety attacks were becoming a nightly thing. Most of the time, they came from the mere thought of attending college, but just about anything could trigger a breakdown. I’d always been a sensitive kid, but as time passed, it seemed to only get stronger, and it had gotten to the point where it started governing my life and self perception. My parents and I felt lost, and none of us had the tools to even begin tackling it. This continued until I was 17, when I was brought to a neuropsychologist for screening. At this point, we almost expected it: all signs pointed to GAD, or generalized anxiety disorder. Thankfully, this brought on a rigorous slew of attempts to manage it now that we knew what was happening. I went to therapy, learned to speak more openly about my worries and work through them, and as I’ll explain in a moment, address the central cause of all of this: perfectionism. The single most important lesson I’ve learned on my journey is to not take myself so seriously. I’ve always held myself to such high standards, and when they weren’t met, anxiety ensued. I tend to lean towards perfectionism, and have since my earliest experiences with anxiety. This has its good and bad; the good is that it provides me with a powerful drive to do my best in life, but the bad is that this same drive often pushes me to my limits. I’m still learning and trying to find a good balance, but I have my drive, my passion, and my family to get me through it. The truth is that, in the long run, nobody cares as much as I do. I’m not going to be punished for making a few mistakes- that’s because we’re all human, and mistakes are how we learn. I think perfectionism is one of the most dangerous mindsets you can have, and it’s also one of the hardest to escape. That coupled with a full-blown anxiety disorder doesn’t paint a pretty picture, but now that I have the mindset to work on it a little bit at a time, I’m confident my mental state will only improve as I progress though college and my future career. I’ll continue to seek out new experiences along the way, because that’s where most of those valuable mistakes happen.

April 2023 was an interesting time. I was just finishing up my spring classes, and was mentally preparing for my summer semester: I would be taking trigonometry, biology, and a fast-paced, 7 week precalculus. I was not very excited about that. I desperately needed something to turn to when things got stressful, and Pokémon was getting old. However, I had no idea that this “something” would turn into an interest that would continue long after I put summer in the rear view. I’m a self-proclaimed science nerd. My long-term goal is to get a PhD in paleontology, but I love all kinds of science. My YouTube activity reflects this. Then, I had been watching Dr. Mike, a family medicine doctor who makes videos about his profession, as the human body and the medical field had always been interesting to me. I came cross a video of him reviewing an episode of an anime called Cells at Work. I’d never heard of it, but his reviews were always fun, so I checked it out. From what I could see, the plot of this show was that the characters were supposed to represent cells in an industrialized human body, and Mike was saying they did a pretty good job representing things accurately! I watched the show by myself, and I was immediately hooked. It spoke to my love of learning about biology and appreciation for interesting worldbuilding. I think the approach they took to show the body was very smart- while I love the general premise, those “let’s shrink somebody down in a submarine and put them inside you” episodes of Saturday morning cartoons always grossed me out, and the industrialized, yet thoroughly researched setting clearly shows that’s not what Cells at Work is trying to be. I also thought it was great how, while it taught, it wasn’t in-your-face about it or felt like it was talking down to you. Even the stories were grounded in biology, but Akane knew how to make lovable characters and dynamics from that outline. It combines action with slice-of-life in a way I’d never seen before, and I loved it. Additionally, there was one episode that helped me learn something about myself- and not at the cellular level. Episode 3 season 1, Influenza, stars a character with anxiety as he tries to fight viruses and prove himself to his squad. I was diagnosed with GAD at 17, and saw a lot of myself in him. This could be an essay in and of itself, but to summarize, seeing him being comforted by another character during a panic attack made me take another look at how I treat myself. Even though I’d been told again and again to not be so hard on myself, seeing kindness actually work made me wonder: what if being mad at myself for getting upset isn’t justified? That was the single most successful self-reflection I’d ever had, and to this day I still can’t believe it was because of the weird biology anime. Not my therapist, not my mom, not a mindfulness podcast, but some random woman on the other side of the world who thought making her own Osmosis Jones would be fun. Besides that, I’ve now made my own original characters and stories set in the world, as well as plenty of art in lots of different mediums. I’ve had so much fun, and can’t wait to see what else comes from it. After almost ten years, the dumb biology show finally found its way to the dumb biology girl, like the worlds’ nerdiest prophecy being fulfilled.

There are two kinds of passion; the kind one develops throughout their life, and the kind that was rooted in their heart from the very beginning. While both kinds of passion are valid and very powerful, there’s something particularly interesting about inborn passion, something that makes it many times more difficult to lose as life goes on. It’s almost as if you’re biologically or spiritually designed to gravitate towards it, and once you do, you know you’ve found something special. I am one such individual, and my inborn passion has provided guidance in my life- even today, I turn to it for security and a sense of purpose. When I was little, I was obsessed with all things prehistoric. I was always on the hunt for information, and everyone who even heard of me knew that I was the “dinosaur girl.” This passion came to me very early on, to the point where its exact origin is lost to time. It’s shaped my entire life, and will hopefully continue to do so, at least goal-wise. As I’ve been saying since I could utter the words, I want to be a paleontologist. Vertebrate paleontology is a career that requires endurance, many years of higher education, and an undying curiosity towards the world around us. All of these things have contributed to who I am today, and I’m confident that these traits will help me be successful going forward. But “successful” is a broad description, and its meaning can vary wildly depending on who you ask. That said, what’s my description of success? In my eyes, success means using your passion to do good. Whether it’s a hobby you’re doing for fun while something else pays the bills, or if you’re lucky, your whole career. We’re all trying our best, and I don’t think someone’s success should be measured in income or fame. So, what do I mean by measuring it in “good” instead? This is also very subjective, so I’ll just explain my take on it with an example. when I become a paleontologist, I plan to do good by directly helping other dedicated scientists learn more about animals of the distant past. I also hope to use this knowledge to educate the public- I might be a university professor, guide museum tours, post about my findings on social media, or all three. One thing I’ll do for sure, though, is make a “dinosaur field guide” app for children. When I was about 6, I had something like this. It had profiles for about 100 different creatures that included artwork, basic information, and stories of its discovery. Part of my dream is to create my own version of this with original artwork, immersive research stories and creature descriptions, and regular updates with new entries. If I can reach and inspire at least one curious, passionate kid like I was, that’ll be enough to keep the project alive. Again, this is only my definition of “good.” No two people will have the same description, and that’s part of what makes individuality so valuable. For example, “good” could also mean getting a mathematics major so someone can teach math and help struggling students, becoming a writer so they can share their stories with the world, becoming an engineer so they can improve the lives of others with their inventions, or even selling their creations on Etsy to brighten customer’s days. I believe that the first step in determining your life’s path is figuring out what “good” means to you, and then finding a way to create personal success from it. In order to do this, though, I have to get through college first. I plan to get at least a master’s degree in paleontology, and I’m going to let the future decide whether or not I should go for a doctorate. I expect much of my college funding to come from loans, and I calculate that I’ll end up with about $250,000 in debt after a doctorate. I’m prepared to take it, but regardless, anything helps. This scholarship would help make a dent in that cost and bring me closer to doing my version of good for the world. Thank for taking the time to read my essay, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.