A shadow speeds across the cobblestone ground, a little star seeming to trail behind in the night. Talking furniture and decorations yell about a beast hiding away upstairs. Golden hair as long as a tower could be rid of even the deepest wrinkles. A sprinkle of magic touched every scene. The Magic seems like an obvious answer. Who doesn't wish fairies would arrive in their darkest moment to come to save them? I've certainly imagined becoming a mermaid or arriving in a gorgeous gown at a ball, taking away the breaths of every guest. When I was in middle school, a time when most kids were more interested in Riverdale or Stranger Things, I was enveloped by all things Disney. Not to toot my own horn (toot toot) but I was very confident in all my decisions, so I was proud to show people that something that is considered "little kid" doesn't affect how smart you are. My first math project was naturally themed with Disney princesses and I got the highest grade in the class, a 105%. It'd be wrong to say that magic isn't my favorite because it's definitely up there but I think I'm going to go with a different cliche, the memories. I don't live with my Dad, two younger half-siblings, or stepmom. Instead, I live with the best mom in the world and my teenage brother. When we go to Disney Land, roughly once every year or two, I get to spend a whole day running around with my younger siblings and learn more about them. Even though I've known them their whole lives, I don't see them for most of it, and, especially with younger kids, things change every day with them. When we wait in long lines or grab a snack at a stand, we talk or it strikes up a memory that they share with me. I want them to know that I'm their big sister who will show them and help them through the hardest of times. I have started singing to a song in line just to show them it's okay to have fun, as long as you're not hurting anyone of course, in a public space. She's never going to see these people again. Disney gives us something to be excited about as a family. A new movie is a time for my 7-year-old sister to share popcorn with me or snuggle with me on the big seats. Disney gives us another reason to be together, a chance to be a big sister like Elsa to Anna. For me to make memories with my younger siblings and not feel like the kids from the other marriage. I thank Disney for that. For giving me another excuse to feel loved by my mini besties and not their occasional, exclusively weekends friend. That's pretty magical.

Cold, wet stairs sat under my eager feet as I climbed higher to the water slide entrance. Views of rocky mountains and warm sun were before me. "Hi!" I said to a young girl, about 6 years old and with perfect blonde pigtails. "I love your bathing suit," I said, indicating her pink and blue tie-dye piece. "Thank you," she replied bashfully. She stared out at the pool below us, "Hi Giuseppe!" She waved at her younger brother, splashing around in the shallow end with a Spider-Man floaty tied around him. "Your turn sweetie," the lifeguard said to the little girl. She scrunched her eyebrows and bit her nails. "I'm scared." She whispered. "Is an older kid allowed to go with her?" I inquired. "Sorry, single rider only." The lifeguard replied. "I can go first to show you," I said. She nodded weakly. "Try to go slow," the lifeguard said with a wink. I gently drifted down the slide, waving behind me as I went. I looked back up to see her standing there, nails in mouth and head down. I walked up to who I assumed were her parents. "Excuse me?" I asked. "Is she yours at the top with the pink and blue tie-dye bathing suit?" "Yes," her mom laughed. "She's scared, is there anything I can tell her from you to make her feel better and maybe get her going?" "Tell her we're waiting," her mom smiled with a newborn in her arms. "She told me earlier that she wanted to hold this baby, would she be able to if she made it down?" I asked hopefully. "Sure," she replied with kind eyes. "I can come, too!" Another little blonde girl ran up to me. "I'm her sister." We fast walked ourselves to the stairs. "No cutting, Madeline!" My occasionally angsty 14-year-old brother hollered, sticking out his newly long, hairy legs to block me. "Grady," I sighed. "Let me help her, and you can go on the slide." I may or may not have shoved passed him a little. Once I reached the top I said excitedly, "Guess what?" She still stared at the water slide, deciding her fate. "I was just told you can hold that baby once you come down. They told me they're so excited to see you come down and are all waiting." She considered, getting a boost of bravery. "Just think of that cute little chubby face." With resolve, she slid down the slide, blonde hair in tow. I was proud, putting myself at the end of the line. She's going to remember this, I thought. I remembered when a big 8-year-old told 5-year-old me she liked my shirt. That 8-year-old didn't have to compliment a little kid getting distracted by (what might be) a butterfly instead of running towards the monkey bars. Every small act changes how people look at the world. I grew up with undeniable, maybe a little unmodest, confidence because others took time out of their day or spent an extra second complimenting me before sliding down the fire pole. It doesn't always feel selfless, though, I take such pride in helping other people. It seems like they're helping me. I volunteer at an aquarium and every time a kid is scared to touch a sea star, I show them how they're perfectly harmless. That kid may grow up to love and become an ambassador for the ocean. I love the ocean's inhabitants, so if that kid who I once helped, helps the ocean, they, too, were being selfless. Thank you :)

“She’s gone,” My dad told us at our bright red booth at the restaurant. My cousin Emilia, who battled cancer from nine to twelve years old, passed away on Thursday night. It hurt to know I would never truly get to know her, but I knew I could do something. I’ve always loved creating something and helping others. Using Etsy, a digital commerce platform, I opened up my first shop when I was 12 years old. My shop held a variety of different items like candles, detailed fairy houses made from polymer clay, soaps, and jewelry (earrings, necklaces, and bracelets). Since opening my shops, 25% of proceeds go toward cancer research, a cause that has hit close to home on more than one occasion. When I was 7-years-old when my 12-year-old cousin died after fighting a rare childhood cancer for 3+ years. She was incredibly and kind, and it was terribly unfair. Another highly talented middle school classmate died within a few short months of her cancer diagnosis, an even rare form than my cousin’s. I looked on Instagram just the other day, looking at people's stories and catching up with old friends. I stumbled upon my friend Charlie's story that said, "Not a tumor, too." He was in the hospital for severe GI problems and he was just been diagnosed with cancer. It didn't make any sense he already just had a colostomy bag put on why must he suffer more? Cancer made it hard to conform to my religious beliefs. How could this all powerful, merciful being give a child cancer and kill two other innocent kids? Some say they were repenting for their sins but they are, once again, children. It's made me not believe in God in the traditional sense. I believe there could be something there, helping us. But this being can't control what we can. If you pray or hope to be capable of taking a math test, that is up to you. You study to make yourself capable. I dream to go into the field of Ichthyology (study of sharks and rays). I had considered fields like medicine after seeing my family and friends suffer. I can't stand the sight of blood and even getting shot still makes me panic a little. I've had a yearning to help people and I'm going to do just that through the ocean. I'm going to help climate change and discover cures for other illnesses through my beloved animals. This empowered me to use my creative outlet while giving others, hopefully, and in some capacity, a fair chanceutilizing my etsy shop for good. My art evolved as I grew from sculpting to soap making to digital design, I watched as my mediums changed. I saw myself as successful and productive. I was very proud. My next step would appeal to my culinary side. I’ve been baking with my mom for as long as I can remember. Cooking became a skill I discovered a little later during quarantine. It allowed me to spend more time with my mom, and grow even closer together while honing another set of skills. I imagine what I’m going to make before I even begin. Every curve, brushstroke, and motion is carefully played out in my mind. I let my mind wander and hands take over, already knowing what to do. My art has grown with me like a flower. Pretty, as a sprout, but glorious when bloomed. Art has, and always will be, a creative outlet that provides hope for myself and others.

I yearn to dive into the shadows of the salty ocean waters surrounded by Olive Ridley turtles and brightly colored parrot fish, a place I realized I would belong after discovering the marine life at the Aquarium of the Pacific which gave me an educational home during my time as a volunteer. I volunteered there due to my interest in sea life which only affirmed my desire to work with them. My hands would brush against the mucus layer of stingrays and the rough skin of bamboo sharks. In those moments, learning and exploring the marine life at the aquarium, I became a Marine Biologist as I was able to feel like an expert in my field, though, very much knowing I have a lot to learn in the years ahead. I did research among peers who had similar passions to mine. I would walk through the grand and vibrant halls of life and teach others about what I love so dearly. Practically hosting my own class on the ocean. Spilling fun facts while waves of people walked toward me, eager to hear what I had to share. I want to be a teacher to those who don't understand the ocean and the student of its mysterious waves. I want to protect and understand all it has to offer. The Aquarium of the Pacific gave me the opportunity to dip my toes in the water and experience being a Marine Biologist. It helped lead me to CSUN, where I will be interning and doing research on sharks this summer. We will be attempting to discover if sharks have pain receptors. Using the skills and knowledge I obtained I was able to make a great first impression. I was able to educate my community and shine a light on the ocean's importance. Many times, people don’t care about an issue unless it directly affects them. Volunteering at the aquarium gave me an even clearer perspective to help people see the importance of taking care of our oceans. My goal is to be an ichthyologist. I spend my car rides and close my eyes to sleep at night, imagining scuba diving with sharks. Elegant sharks gently swim through the open ocean while kelp sways in the tide. The simplest of motions, like a shark swimming, needs to go through scientific processes to function. Every breath, has an equal opposite reaction, almost like the breathing I do in my biology class. I can ask so many questions and if the answer doesn’t exist, I’ll try to discover it.

Elegant sharks gently swim through the open ocean while kelp sways in the tide. The simplest of motions, like a shark swimming, needs to go through scientific processes to function. Every breath, has an equal opposite reaction, almost like the breathing I do in my biology class. My favorite academic subject is Science, particularly Biology and Environmental Science. Those subjects allow us to understand the world we live in. I can ask so many questions and if the answer doesn’t exist, I’ll try to discover it. Science allowed me to take interest in other subjects, even in my most challenging, Math. The equations I used in AP Biology made more sense after I started working harder at Math conquering my enemy with great triumph. Math became complex and a way to discover the trajectory of a rocket or calculate percent decreases in my favorite species. Just the other day I saw a 90-degree angle written on the whiteboard of another classroom and began figuring out the trigonometric functions on the unit circle for it. I was so proud that I was finally understanding something that I had been struggling with my entire life. It helped me realize that I'm capable of much more than I thought. A cliche, I know, but we all have to realize that at some point, right? There’s a history to Science as well, and any time a scientist or scientific concept is mentioned in Social Studies, my ears perk. It also allowed me to better understand my digestive disorder and made me feel more confident about how different foods are broken down in my body. Science made me feel intelligent and provided a place of belonging and a strong desire to protect my planet. After learning how complex life is, down to the very chloroplast in a flower, I saw how everything has a purpose. Sometimes, it just hasn’t been discovered yet. Discovering who I am can take as long as it needs to because just like atoms, it’s there and is waiting to be found. Those atoms were already working regardless of us knowing they were there, and it seems I’m already working towards something I love even though all my passions haven’t yet been discovered. Just like many animals in the wild, I too am adapting to my new, mature world. evolving to be the best version of myself. Science gave me the lens to accept that change happens and life continues to cycle. For example, how a species can evolve to have multiple subspecies, only makes the world more beautifully diverse.

A divorce separates more than just the parents. It splits the child’s heart into two pieces. Each piece belongs to the opposite sides of a bridge. One side my home, the other, an occasional rest stop, covered with fog so thick you can’t tell what’s in front of you. My father’s ego, noxious like that fog, choked out its ability to think straight. Though I’ve been reminded time and time again, I had nothing to do with his actions, it’s never the child’s fault. The question still looms in that toxic air, “why?” I will find out eventually after much speculation. The home my mom built to protect me and my brother from recognizing the fog was sturdy, safe, but the vents let unwanted things in. His self-made pedestal was too high in the sky to remember his new babies. Though I’ve never seen him as a villain, he is still my father, and a present one, at that. My mom and dad’s divorce was never a problem, in fact, I preferred not living with him. His inability to be punctual, even for his own children's games and performances, and his chronically messy home, made me grateful I lived with my ever-amazing and organized mom. The offense is written into my father’s face when I tell him “I want to go home.” He stares, “This is your home, too,” gesturing to his house around us. I live with my mom and she ensured my brother and I would have one home, not going back and forth, and losing stuff in the process. My home is with my mom because she’s never done anything wrong to me. She asks and indulges about my day when she hasn’t seen me for eight hours, but my dad only rambles about himself when he hasn’t seen me for eight days. He doesn’t understand that when I’m at his house, to my stepmom, I’m just the other child. My brother and I are the kids from the other marriage. My brother gets blamed for things my stepmom’s son did. She doesn’t trust him. She does treat me better than other stepmoms, but I can tell she doesn’t care about my things as much as my sister. I can’t eat the same things as everyone else or I’ll get sick, but she says that a little bite won’t hurt. She wouldn’t even suggest that for her own daughter, she’d make something special just for her. My mother gave my brother and me all the love in the universe, and I will forever be reminded of my importance because of her. For my mom, I’m sure it was difficult, trying to breathe through the smog and make sure her babies didn’t start coughing, and even through the darkest, grayest days, my mom had a shining light, her purpose. Even through the suffocating pain, she demonstrated how the worst of things always have something positive. She taught me hard work can get you where you want to be. Though my father wasn’t her favorite decision, she got her meaning out of it, me and my brother. I’m a living example of how light can shine through fog. Thank you for reading! :)

“She’s gone,” My dad told us at our bright red booth at the restaurant. My cousin Emilia, who battled cancer from nine to twelve years old, passed away on Thursday night. It hurt to know I would never truly get to know her, but I knew I could do something. I’ve always loved creating something and helping others. Using Etsy, a digital commerce platform, I opened up my first shop when I was 12 years old. My shop held a variety of different items like candles, detailed fairy houses made from polymer clay, soaps, and jewelry (earrings, necklaces, and bracelets). Since opening my shops, 25% of proceeds go toward cancer research, a cause that has hit close to home on more than one occasion. When I was 7 years old, my 12-year-old cousin died after fighting a rare childhood cancer for 3+ years. She was incredibly smart and kind, and it was terribly unfair. Another extremely talented middle school classmate died within a few short months of her cancer diagnosis, an even more rare form than my cousin’s. This empowered me to use my creative outlet while giving others, hopefully, and in some capacity, a fair chance utilizing my Etsy shop for good. My art evolved as I grew from sculpting to soap making to digital design, I watched as my mediums changed. I saw myself as successful and productive. I was very proud. My next step would appeal to my culinary side. I’ve been baking with my mom for as long as I can remember. Cooking became a skill I discovered a little later during quarantine. It allowed me to spend more time with my mom, and grow even closer together while honing another set of skills. I imagine what I’m going to make before I even begin. Every curve, brushstroke, and motion is carefully played out in my mind. I let my mind wander and hands take over, already knowing what to do. My art has grown with me like a flower. Pretty, as a sprout, but glorious when bloomed. Art has and always will be, a creative outlet that provides hope for myself and others. I plan on becoming a biologist and I yearn to make discoveries that will change lives. I'm doing research at CSUN this summer with the head of the biology department where I will be working to make my first discovery in the scientific world. We will be staining genes to figure out if sharks have pain receptors. I couldn't be more excited! I have always been told that whenever I start something new, I put my soul into it. I joined the colorguard team at my school with no knowledge of the sport and just after one semester I became the flag captain and lead my fellow flags in exercises and choreography. The first time started an Etsy shop I made $700, it was a proud moment for a small 12-year-old. I was able to donate more than $100 to the foundation made for the girl at my school who had passed. I set myself apart because I don't want to be like everyone else. I stride with confidence every day because I'm never going to live that day again. I want to look back on my life and be proud that I believed in myself in every step I made, and continue to make. Thank you for your time! :)

I have struggled with a gastrointestinal disorder all my life and I would love to pursue the reasons why it happens as a geneticist. I become really sick some days and I would rather not be on medications that only mask my problems instead of solving them. I've spent so many days wondering why no one can help me. All I want are answers and solutions and not getting them is plaguing. I want to find those answers and solutions to help all who are affected by the same chronic condition. I want my diagnosis to not be so vague and give it an explanation. That it really is deeper than just some borderline symptoms, because people who are really affected by the disorder are minimalized and I want to save all future patients who feel looked over. If I do not become a geneticist, I would become a marine biologist/environmental ecologist because I have always loved nature, and spending time with them makes me feel so fulfilled. Seeing the animals and the planet I love to get more and more hurt every day, puts a hole in my heart. They don't deserve the suffering that we've put them through and they inspire me to make the world a better and safer place for creatures. We only have one earth and one life, both should be the happiest possible while we're here. These issues are held so close to my heart and it really does inspire me to take action. I volunteered at my local aquarium for a year and it was amazing. I learned about how many different ways these creatures are affected and what we can do to help. I was inspired by my instructor to make footsteps worth following and I strive to do that every day. I have always loved helping people. Whether it be as a teacher's assistant in Hebrew school, donating my hair, or starting a small business to donate 25% of proceeds to cancer research. It's a different kind of pride you get from those actions. It's the type of pride that makes you feel you really can make a difference and help the people around you. Pursuing a science field would allow me to help people whether it be from a larger, environmental standpoint, or a more specialized and individualized one through genetics. My grandfather also worked as an engineer at NASA. He inspires me to do what makes me happy, no matter what comes my way. He pursued a terribly difficult field even after immigrating to America after the Holocaust. He did something that made him happy and followed his curiosity into the stars. Just like him, I want to be challenged and happy every day. Doing what I love. Making discoveries and finding solutions to better our world.