I never thought of myself as someone who does “service.” To me, service always sounded official—volunteering, joining clubs, or doing something big that everyone notices. But looking back, I’ve been helping people for as long as I can remember, just in quieter ways that never felt remarkable at the time. Even small things, like making sure someone felt included or helping someone figure something out, felt natural and easy at the moment. Having a twin means you can’t just think about yourself. My brother Brady and I have always been a package deal. I’ve woken him up so we wouldn’t be late, helped him scramble together forgotten assignments, backed him up when someone gave him a hard time, and talked through tense moments at home. Sometimes I helped him. Sometimes I probably did it for him—but it never felt like “service.” He’s my brother. That’s just what you do when you truly care about someone. Over the years, being dependable for him has taught me patience, responsibility, empathy, and the importance of paying attention to others’ needs. I’m not the loudest person in the room, and I don’t need to run everything. I’m the steady one. If something needs doing, I do it. If someone needs help, I’m there. I don’t need credit. The best ways to help aren’t always big—they’re small, steady, thoughtful actions that make someone’s day a little easier. In grade school, I even got recognized for helping younger kids, which showed me early on that showing up matters, even when no one is watching. My dad told me about Officer Katelyn Tully, who he supervised. Her loss affected the entire Haverhill community. He said she cared about people more than anyone he worked with, always seeing the person first, even when her job was tough. I never met her, but her example taught me that real leadership isn’t about being the loudest—it’s about compassion, integrity, mindful attention, and putting others first. Thinking about her reminds me that real impact often happens quietly, in ways that go unseen. I plan to study business in college. I want to succeed, but not at the expense of others. I want to be someone people can rely on—someone who listens, supports, and leads by example. I still play games, and I still procrastinate sometimes, but I’ve realized that the moments nobody notices—the quiet check-ins, small favors, patience when someone struggles—are the ones that truly define who I am. I hope to continue Officer Tully’s mission by using my future education and career to serve others, support my community, and lead with the same compassion and dedication she exemplified. That’s the kind of person I strive to be.