My name is Lily McCargar, I'm 18 years old, and I believe that my past favorite and current job have allowed me to positively impact my community. For a year, I worked at a daycare where I cared for children ages 8 weeks to 3 years old, while very occasionally working with older kids. During this time I always felt as though I was doing something more than a job. To me, I felt like I was doing a great service to young, working, and single parents. To be trusted with their children and to care for them while they went to provide for their family felt like a great honor and responsibility. I felt as though I was doing my part in my community through service and care. I also felt a lot of pride that I was able to be a part of the children's formative years. I read to kids and taught colors, shapes, and words. I watched kids take their first steps and move into the other "big kid" rooms. I helped kids with animal sounds, speech, and playing kindly with others. I never felt as though my efforts went unnoticed. Parents would frequently leave gift cards and thank-you notes for the teachers and aids. Even though I was new to the daycare, I always felt appreciated for what I was doing. Sometimes it pays to be on diaper duty. Unfortunately, I had to change jobs after a year because of mental and physical health difficulties. Despite this, I was able to find a new job where I felt as though I was contributing to my community, and that's the same job I'm in now. I work as a barista in a coffee shop located inside my local grocery store. With the unique location it's in, I am able to provide people not only with their daily dose of caffeine but also assist them in finding groceries or pointing them in the right direction. Many times I have felt a sense of fulfillment whether it was making large canteens of coffee for parties, assisting an older woman in picking out gift cards for her class reunion, directing a struggling mother to the bathrooms where she could change her baby, or even just making drinks for familiar faces and seeing how happy it makes them. I believe in astrology; my moon sign is in cancer, a very traditionally maternal and caring sign and placement. I pride myself on my ability to love and care for others, to treat everyone with kindness, to provide for others, and to make people happy in whatever way I can. I've made sure that no matter what job I'm in, I carry myself with pride and do whatever I can to make someone's day better.

I think I have seen at least 100 different anime movies and series throughout my life. I have my childhood favorites, (Pokemon Indigo League takes the top spot closely followed by Pokemon XYZ), my favorites from when I was deep in the trenches of my Emo phase (Death Note and Shadows House), some romance faves (Maid Sama, and Ouran High School Host Club), some badass faves (Assassination Classroom and Noragami) and some easy watching specials (Violet Evergarden, Mary and the Witches Flower, My Neighbor Totoro, Carole and Tuesday, etc). And who could forget those special animes I cosplayed characters from so many times- Haikyuu, My Hero Academia, Danganronpa... the beginner basics. Two great pieces of anime, one a movie and the other a series keep me captivated. Though they are different not only in content and form but in their stories and perhaps their respective genres, I find myself moved to tears upon each rewatch and they have been there for me at pivotal points of my life, making them priceless. The first is a movie called A Silent Voice. It touches on themes of mental health struggle, disabilities, suicide, personal growth, how childhood experiences can affect our lives as adults, familial love, and forgiveness. It is incredibly drawn and written and portrays depression in a way that doesn't romanticize or condone it while still showing it authentically. It ends on a positive note without claiming for the main character's struggle to be fixed and overall paints a very accurate and vivid picture. It is a wonderful watch. The second is a TV show called Kotaro Lives Alone. As the name suggests, it is about a boy who lives by himself in an apartment complex. The boy, Kotaro, is a toddler. He receives money to stay but does not know his parents. The show is not always a lighthearted one, covering themes of loss, trauma, parental abuse, and neglect. However, when Kotaro is discovered to be living alone by other renters in the apartment, he is taken in by the ragtag group who better themselves to take care of the boy and provide him with the support and love he needs. It is a "it takes a village to raise a child" story, but also seems to imply that Kotaro, even though he is a young kid, is perhaps taking care of his village. He is incredibly smart for his age and brings into question the psychology behind having to grow up too fast. It is a beautiful, heartwarming story and well worth the watch. To conclude, my favorites pull on the heartstrings. They ask the viewer to look within themselves, to challenge their outlooks, and to show empathy. They inspire introspection, analysis, and conjure emotion. I believe these are what makes them so beautiful.

I do not know a world uncharacterized by severe mental health struggles. My struggle with my mental health started when I was six years old. I could blame it on the boy in the back of the classroom who would often throw up, or on a history on both sides of my family with mental health disorders ranging from generalized anxiety to bipolar disorder. I could blame it on a multitude of traumatic experiences including uncomfortable sexual interactions that escalated over time. Despite all these, I don't believe there is any one reason. Sometimes I feel the world is inherently bad. How could I be blamed for being pessimistic when my every waking hour for years was spent in panic mode? It was nearly impossible to make it through the school day without breaking down and running out of classrooms, hiding in the bathrooms, or going to the nurse's office. On some special days, I would do all three. Living in constant fear of becoming sick to my stomach not only affected my schooling but also my self-expression. I still catch myself sometimes choosing not to wear certain clothes out of fear that I, or someone else, will become sick and I can never wear them again. Car rides have become unmanageable. Sometimes only five minutes spent in the car will have me spiraling into a panic attack so consuming it's as though everything is crashing down around me. Even on medication my anxiety and panic break through the artificial barriers and come raging back with a vengeance. This happens far more often than I would like it to. I have spent an embarrassing amount of time writhing in my mother's arms, even at eighteen, unable to stop my shaking. My fiance has seen the same of me and I am only grateful that he, unlike many others, chose to stay with me and support me the best he can. My emetophobia, generalized anxiety, social anxiety, and panic disorder diagnoses have destroyed many relationships I once valued. Some people decided I was too unpredictable to be around. Others felt like they couldn't manage me. Some I withdrew from due to my developing agoraphobia. My family, my fiance, and a couple of sweet acquaintances who although don't see the full scope of my struggle, can at least empathize in some way, and I am forever grateful for it. My way of living is characterized by survival. Oftentimes I find myself thinking that I only need to make it through one more hour or just last the day. Peace, relaxation, and ease have become so uncommon for me that they feel unnatural. When things go right I start to panic, thinking that things have been good for too long so something terrible will happen. Being in survival mode constantly has drastically affected my goals for my future. I used to want to make it big. Now all I want is to ensure that I am as comfortable as possible so that my anxiety will be as limited as it can be. Despite these struggles and the inevitable issues I will have at college, I care so deeply about getting a degree. I am incredibly passionate about anthropology and english literature, and I want to make significant contributions to each of the industries. I would love to be an author and to use my anthropological knowledge to asses the world we live in and make changes to it while using my english degree to write and share my voice with the world. I have so much desire to inspire others, despite my trauma.

Since I was a kid, I have been fascinated by anthropology and archeology, though I didn't have the words for them at the time. I have had the privilege of seeing a myriad of different landscapes and cultures throughout my travels with my family. I have explored cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde National Park, seen countless petroglyphs and pictographs, learned about indigenous cultures of the midwest, seen fossils at Dinosaur National Monument, hiked up the snowy mountain pass of Glacier National Park, ground corn with a mealing stone, and have been inside and touched countless ruin, among countless other experiences. As these travels began when I was a child, I have been raised based on having an open and explorative mind. In a sense, I was also raised by every culture I learned about on our trips. I learned to appreciate and respect nature and cultures different from my own. These skills have profoundly stuck with me, shaping who I have become as a person. It is one thing to read about different ways of being and it is another thing to experience it for yourself. As a hopeful future anthropologist and writer, I hope to use everything I learn in my liberal arts education to make a change in the world. Not only will I apply anthropological knowledge and writing skills to this dream, but everything I learn during school whether that be in or out of the classroom. I want to assist in the education of society about our history as people, and how we can use our knowledge of the past to inform what we should do in the present. In my hopeful fields of work, I have specific ways I would like to make an impact. There is a highly noticeable lack of young people, women, and minorities in the anthropology and archaeology fields. I hope to bring a fresh perspective to the stagnant mindsets of those who may be caught up in a certain way of doing things or subscribe to a certain belief system. I think that the community can be improved upon and reinvigorated by young people becoming involved, and I sincerely hope to be one of those people. As a bisexual woman with invisible disabilities, I want to show young women and girls that they can break through into male-dominated spaces; that they are valid in their identities, and that nothing has to stop them from doing what they believe in. I believe that many women devalue themselves and convince themselves that they are not good enough because of today’s societal expectations and beliefs. This is something I also want to challenge through my education, during school and beyond. In conclusion, my education will supply me with the necessary resources, skills, and opportunities to become a positive change, not only in specific career paths but among young women and the greater world. This scholarship would greatly impact my ability to make the most of my education, and as a result, to lift me with my fellow peers, future teachers, and colleagues. I am ready to take on the world and analyze what can be changed.

As a hopeful future anthropologist and writer, I hope to use everything I learn in my liberal arts education to make a change in the world. Not only will I apply anthropological knowledge and writing skills to this dream, but everything I learn during school whether that be in or out of the classroom. I want to assist in the education of society about our history as people, and how we can use our knowledge of the past to inform what we should do in the present. But for this, I need funding. I, like many others, will struggle to afford education. Each penny counts, and the more help and generosity I and others can receive, the less we have to stress over being in debt the more we can throw ourselves into our studies. In my hopeful fields of work, I have specific ways I would like to make an impact. There is a highly noticeable lack of young people, women, and minorities in the anthropology and archaeology fields. I hope to bring a fresh perspective to the stagnant mindsets of those who may be caught up in a certain way of doing things or subscribe to a certain belief system. I think that the community can be improved upon and reinvigorated by young people becoming involved, and I sincerely hope to be one of those people. To be a writer someday would not only amplify my voice but cultivate a space of discussion among people who may think differently than I do. Creating safe spaces for people to bounce ideas off each other is integral for the personal and collective growth of the individual and society. I would be honored to be the catalyst for this growth and change through my writings. As a bisexual woman with invisible disabilities, I want to show young women and girls that they can break through into male-dominated spaces. That they are valid in their identities, and that nothing has to stop them from doing what they believe in. I believe that many women devalue themselves and convince themselves that they are not good enough because of today’s societal expectations and beliefs. This is something I also want to challenge through my education, during school and beyond. In conclusion, my education will supply me with the necessary resources, skills, and opportunities to become a positive change, not only in specific career paths but among young women and the greater world. This scholarship would greatly impact my ability to make the most of my education and follow my career dreams, and as a result, to lift me up with my fellow peers, future teachers, and colleagues. I am ready to take on the world and make some changes!

As a young person, I struggled to give a name or a label to my identity. I went through many different eras of my life where I experimented both with my sexuality and my gender expression. I sometimes joke that I've gone through every identity in the LGBTQIA+ rainbow. I have identified as bisexual, lesbian, asexual, genderfluid, queer, non-binary, pansexual, and experimented with different pronouns and chosen names. Still to this day I am not entirely certain how I identify, but I know one thing; I am not straight. I was aware of my queerness from a very young age. I vehemently insisted that one day I was growing to grow up and marry a beautiful woman. Luckily, I am blessed to have been born into a family that accepts and loves me. It turns out my mother has identified as bisexual for nearly her entire life. The issue then was not with my family but with the town where we lived and the school I attended. For ten years I grew up in a small conservative town with no diversity, no tolerance, and a lot of "traditional" ideas. I felt like the black sheep and like I wasn't welcome there. Between the whispers behind my back, the rumors, and the bullying, I felt unsafe at school. In an attempt to try and combat this, I searched for like-minded people, and in the sixth grade, I created an unofficial GSA. We would stay in the library during recess, which was allowed at the time, and get together to talk about our experiences, our changing identities, and our thoughts on LGBTQIA+ topics. I kept a notebook with a list of members and discussion points, welcoming those on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum, allies, and curious visitors alike. At no point were we ever disruptive, but when the principal got word of what we were doing, we were told it was "not school appropriate," and that everyone in the school, which comprised of preschoolers to sixth graders, was no longer allowed to spend time in the library during recess. We were effectively shut down for good. When I moved into the high school building which housed seventh through twelfth graders, I organized another GSA. This time, I got the school nurse on board, and she acted as a moderator for our student-led organization. The principal and many faculty members were not pleased with this, but technically, there was nothing they could do. We met every Wednesday and had a far more structured version of what I had started in sixth grade. Many people of all ages showed up to this group. Even though I left that school and moved to a different town after eighth grade, the GSA still exists, and I am incredibly proud that I was able to create a lasting safe space. One of the last things I did before I left was organize a peaceful walk-out protest during class time to advocate and show support for trans rights. For such a small, conservative town, I was able to pull together a sizable group. I had asked for permission to do this, and still, I and others got into trouble with some school board members, who sat us down to scold us and sent letters home to those involved, effectively outing some students and getting others in deep trouble. LGBTQIA+ people and history should not be erased from schools. I want to keep advocating and providing safe spaces in college and beyond, and this scholarship will aid me in doing so. I am passionate about my community. Bless us all.

Our environment has always been something I have deeply cared about and am passionate about protecting. It began as a child visiting national parks across the United States and has grown with me as I have learned more about the harm we are causing towards our mother. My anguish and desire to do something was amplified this year when I took a PSEO class on environmental history. The class focused a lot on environmental racism, injustice, and the “not in my backyard” phenomenon. Ever since that class, I have been challenging myself to look more deeply into what I can do as an individual to live a sustainable lifestyle and reduce my carbon footprint. I have begun to shift completely away from buying heavily processed foods and I would consider myself to be a vegetarian. I would be vegan if I didn’t have other dietary health restrictions, as I am very opposed to the slaughtering of animals and the abuse of them for our own gain. I have always thrifted and donated my old clothes, but would occasionally buy new ones. Now I am committed to only thrifting my clothes save for undergarments as a way to reduce the amount of clothes that end up in landfills and to avoid the use of fast fashion that causes incredible environmental impacts and utilizes harmful labor practices, especially for women. I have started shopping almost exclusively at in-person stores, and I have stopped using Amazon altogether, as it also exploits labor and causes harm to our planet with its factory and shipping emissions. Partially as a personal preference, I have started using only bamboo utensils, bowls, and plates. Even my hygiene consists almost exclusively of bamboo from my toilet paper to my exfoliating wash rags. Bamboo grows much quicker than trees and using it helps reduce the tragic deforestation epidemic. Along these same lines, I have been using the web browser Ecosia for years, which commits to planting a tree for every new search. I will not buy or use anything plastic, not only because it is horrible for our planet, but I am wary of ingesting any more microplastics than I already have throughout my life. I have walked my family through all of these thought processes and actions, and have even influenced them to reduce their impact on the environment. We walk and bike whenever possible, plant pollinator gardens, and even compost. In my opinion, a lot of being environmentally conscious is about being cognizant of the danger the earth is in, how we have caused these environmental effects, and how we can reverse them and keep them up. I have dedicated a lot of time to reducing my carbon footprint and convincing others to do the same. I have spoken up on my social media about the dangers private jets and other airlines pose to our precious lives. I believe that the change starts with us. If we as individuals can do everything we can to reduce our impact and to educate others on how to do the same, we can make a difference. Slowly, but surely, we can heal our planet. That’s why I also vote green.

I do not know a world uncharacterized by severe mental health struggles. My struggle with my mental health started when I was six years old. If I was even younger, I would not be able to remember it. I could blame it on the boy in the back of the classroom who would often throw up, or on a history on both sides of my family with mental health disorders ranging from generalized anxiety to bipolar disorder. I could blame it on a multitude of traumatic experiences including, but not limited to, uncomfortable sexual interactions that escalated over time. Despite all these, I don't believe there is any one reason. It is likely a combination of the factors mentioned that have made me the way I am today. Sometimes I feel that the world is inherently bad. How could I be blamed for being pessimistic when my every waking hour for years was spent in panic mode? It was nearly impossible to make it through the school day without breaking down and running out of classrooms, hiding in the bathrooms, or going to the nurse's office. On some special days, I would do all three. Living in constant fear of becoming sick to my stomach not only affected my schooling but also my self-expression. I still catch myself sometimes choosing not to wear certain clothes out of fear that I, or someone else, will become sick and I can never wear them again. Car rides have become unmanageable. Sometimes only five minutes spent in the car will have me spiraling into a panic attack so consuming it's as though everything is crashing down around me. I used to be okay with being in the car until my sister got sick on a family vacation. She was throwing up all day in our small car in the middle of the vast desert. There was nowhere for me to run. Now anything can be just as easily ruined. Even on medication my anxiety and panic break through the artificial barriers and come raging back with a vengeance. This happens far more often than I would like it to. I have spent an embarrassing amount of time writhing in my mother's arms, even at eighteen, unable to stop my shaking. I imagine it is the closest I will ever be to experiencing an exorcism. My fiance has seen the same of me and I am only grateful that he, unlike many others, chose to stay with me and support me the best he can. My emetophobia, generalized anxiety, social anxiety, and panic disorder diagnoses have destroyed many relationships I once valued. Some people decided I was too unpredictable to be around. Others felt like they couldn't manage me. Some I withdrew from due to my developing agoraphobia. But there are a close few in my life who accept me and understand me. My family, my fiance, and a couple of sweet acquaintances who although don't see the full scope of my struggle, can at least empathize in some way, and I am forever grateful for it. My way of living is characterized by survival. Oftentimes I find myself thinking that I only need to make it through one more hour, I only need to last the day, or if I can make it through this one thing I can make it through anything. Peace, relaxation, and ease have become so uncommon for me that they feel unnatural. When things go right I start to panic, thinking that things have been good for too long so something terrible will happen. Being in survival mode constantly has drastically affected my goals for my future. I used to want to be an actress and a film director; to move to the UK and make it big. Now all I want is to ensure that I am as comfortable as possible so that my anxiety will be as limited as it can be. I am not sure if this shift in desire is because I have grown up and matured, or because I am too afraid now to push myself. Some days I still feel the ache to become someone bigger, but my own mind always drags my heart back down to earth. In conclusion, my life has been severely limited by my mind. My mental health is so fragile some days that I fear anything can break it, but other days, it almost feels manageable. It's like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. I've never been on a rollercoaster, but I hate the idea of them as I oppose anything that may make me nauseous. How ironic. Even recalling these memories and telling my own story makes me anxious! But I push on every day. I face every challenge and I try to treat myself with more understanding and empathy than I have done in the past. I'm only a girl trying to make it through the day, and when each night comes I know I've done what I've set out to do. I've made it.