"Plan Your Work, Work Your Plan." I had never heard Joe Gilroy's motto before reading about this scholarship, but it immediately resonated with me because it's how I've always approached my goals. I'm the type of person who always has a running to-do list. Whether it's swimming, school, work, or my business, I like knowing what the next step is. Big goals are exciting, but they're meaningless without a realistic plan to achieve them. My biggest goal is to graduate from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee debt-free while continuing to compete as a Division I swimmer and building a business that creates opportunities for the next generation of athletes. Planning has already shaped some of the biggest decisions in my life. Although I had opportunities to attend larger Division I swimming programs, I chose UWM because the financial package allowed me to pursue my education without unnecessary debt. It wasn't the flashiest decision, but it was the smartest one for my long-term goals. I am fortunate to have earned a full-tuition scholarship, but tuition is only one piece of the puzzle. Rent, groceries, gas, insurance, books, and everyday living expenses still have to be paid. To make that possible, I work one full-time job and two part-time jobs while balancing a full course load and Division I swimming. I also apply for scholarships whenever I can because every dollar I earn today is one less dollar I'll have to borrow tomorrow. Alongside school and work, I founded Next Level Athletics (NLA Swim), a company that helps high school swimmers navigate recruiting through mentorship, showcases, clinics, and education from current college athletes. Our first showcase is projected to generate approximately $40,000 in gross revenue. After projected expenses—including pool rental, liability insurance, meals, marketing, website and software costs, equipment, and staff compensation—we expect to retain roughly $30,000 within the business. My Director of Partnerships and Athlete Engagement and my Operations Coordinator will be paid for their work, but I do not plan to take any of the remaining money home. Every remaining dollar will be reinvested into future showcases, insurance, facility rentals, employee compensation, technology, marketing, and other operating expenses. My goal is to build a business that is financially self-sustaining so I can focus less on keeping the lights on and more on creating opportunities for young athletes. Every plan needs a backup plan. If our first event doesn't meet projections, we'll slow expansion instead of sacrificing quality, continue mentorship programming and smaller clinics, and pursue sponsorships before increasing operating costs. I'd rather build something sustainable than grow too quickly. Over the next two years, I plan to finish my undergraduate degree, continue competing at the Division I level, gain additional professional experience, and reinvest as much as possible into NLA. After graduation, I plan to continue growing the business while pursuing graduate education and a career in business development and entrepreneurship. I know plans don't always unfold exactly as expected. Businesses change, opportunities arise, and setbacks happen. Planning isn't about predicting the future—it's about being prepared to adapt. Every job I work, every class I take, every athlete I mentor, and every decision I make with NLA is part of a larger plan. My goals are ambitious, but they aren't just dreams anymore. They're plans that I'm already putting into action every single day.

If you had asked me a few years ago what faith meant to me, I probably would have said it was something I believed. Today, I would say it's something I try to live, even when it's hard. God has been present in every stage of my life, but I've noticed Him the most during the seasons where I didn't understand what He was doing. There have been times when I felt overwhelmed balancing Division I athletics, school, work, financial stress, and family responsibilities. There have been moments where I questioned why doors were closing or why life felt so much harder than I thought it should. Looking back, those were often the moments when my faith grew the most. One of the hardest lessons I've learned is that following God does not always mean choosing the easier path. Sometimes it means choosing the right one, even when it hurts. I've had to walk away from relationships, opportunities, and plans that didn't align with the life I believe God is calling me to live. Those decisions were painful, but they strengthened my trust that God's plan is greater than my own. Swimming has been one of the biggest ways God has shaped my character. The sport has taught me discipline, perseverance, humility, and how to keep showing up when no one is watching. Every success I've experienced, from becoming a conference champion to serving as a Division I team captain, has reminded me that my identity is not found in medals, records, or accomplishments. Those things can disappear. My relationship with Christ cannot. That perspective has also changed the way I define success. Success is no longer just winning races or building a career. It's becoming someone who reflects Christ in the way I lead, work, and treat other people. As I prepare for my future, I hope to continue growing Next Level Athletics, the mentoring organization I founded to help younger swimmers navigate recruiting and college athletics. Whether I continue building that organization, pursue business, or work in another field, I want people to know me as someone who leads with honesty, integrity, and compassion. I believe those qualities create lasting success because they build trust, and trust is the foundation of every meaningful relationship. My faith also gives me confidence during uncertainty. I don't know exactly where my career will take me, but I know the kind of person I want to be wherever I end up. I want to lead with integrity when shortcuts seem easier. I want to serve people instead of simply serving myself. Most importantly, I want my work to point back to God rather than to my own achievements. I believe God has given each of us gifts that are meant to serve others. Whatever career He leads me into, my prayer is that I use those gifts faithfully, work with excellence, and leave every person and every place better than I found it. At the end of my life, I hope people remember not what I accomplished, but how faithfully I lived the life God entrusted to me.

If you asked me who I am, my first answer would probably be that I'm a swimmer. But the older I've gotten, the more I've realized swimming is only part of who I am. I'm also a daughter, an older sister, a mentor, a leader, and someone who genuinely wants to leave the sport better than I found it. I was homeschooled through a hybrid classical education program called Classical Consortium Academy (CCA) from second through twelfth grade. I did this Co-Op 1-2 days a week, and was at home the rest. Looking back, I don't think I appreciated it enough at the time, but it taught me how to be independent. I learned how to manage my own schedule, stay disciplined, and hold myself accountable long before I got to college. Those are the same skills that have helped me balance Division I swimming, academics, and work today. My family has always been the biggest reason I've been able to chase my goals. During COVID, my sisters and I switched from the Illinois to the Wisconsin Local Swimming Committee just so we could keep competing. Practices were just my sisters, another homeschooled family, and no coach on deck. Meets were the same way. There was nobody telling us to keep pushing or cheering behind the blocks. For a while, I honestly didn't know why I kept swimming. I'm so thankful I did. Those years taught me how to motivate myself when no one else was around to do it. They also gave me friendships that my family still has today. Somewhere during that time, swimming stopped being something I did because I was good at it and became something I truly loved. Today, I swim at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, where I'm a Division I conference champion, school record holder, and team captain. I'm incredibly proud of those accomplishments, but I'm just as proud of everything that happened behind the scenes to get there. I currently work three jobs while being a student-athlete. I'm fortunate to have earned a full-tuition scholarship because without it, I don't know how I would have afforded college. One thing swimming has taught me is that success means more when you use it to help someone else. That's why I started Next Level Athletics. I wanted younger swimmers to have the guidance, mentorship, and recruiting resources that I wish I had growing up. I mentor athletes every week, and one of them once looked at me and said, "I want to be like you." It meant a lot, but it also made me realize something. She sees the successes, she doesn't see the financial stress, the injuries, the burnout, or anything behind the scenes. I don't want the next generation of swimmers to think that's just something they have to accept. I want them to have more opportunities than I did. After college, I plan to continue competing while growing Next Level Athletics and building a career that allows me to keep serving athletes. My goal has never been to collect medals just to say I won them. I want to create opportunities for other people and leave swimming better than I found it. When I read about Stephan Wolley, the three things that stood out to me were family, faith, and competition. Those same values have shaped my life. My family has always been my foundation, my faith keeps me grounded through both success and failure, and competition has taught me resilience, discipline, and humility. No matter where life takes me after college, those are the values I hope people remember me for.

Swimming has given me more than I could ever put into words. It has given me confidence, lifelong friendships, leadership opportunities, and a second family. It has also shown me just how broken the system can be for the athletes who dedicate their lives to it. That is why I believe I am exactly the kind of athlete Speed League Swimming was built for—not because of the races I have won, but because I want to leave this sport better than I found it. One of the biggest moments that shaped me happened during COVID. My family switched LSC’s from Illinois to Wisconsin, simply so my sisters and I could continue competing. Every day, practice consisted of my sisters, another family with two boys, and no coach on deck. We trained because we chose to, not because anyone was making us. We traveled to meets with no coach, no teammates, and no one telling us to keep going when things got hard. At the time, I questioned why I was still swimming. It would have been easy to quit. Looking back, I am incredibly thankful that I didn't. Those months taught me how to motivate myself when nobody was watching. They taught me that success is earned, not given. They also gave my family friendships that will last a lifetime. Somewhere during that experience, swimming stopped being something I did and became something I loved. After COVID, another defining moment came during my senior year of high school when I won the Illinois state championship in the 100 butterfly. Ironically, I had never even made an A final at the state meet before. I had built a reputation as someone who always swam faster in finals than in prelims, but in swimming that isn't enough. My B-final swims would have earned podium finishes if they had happened in the A final, but that is not how our sport works. Going into my final state meet, I was seeded third. The two girls ahead of me were better sprinters than I was. I was a 200 butterfly swimmer, not a pure 100 swimmer. I remember deciding that if it was my last chance, I had nothing to lose. I went for it. It ended up being the best back half race of my life. I won the race, earned my first Winter Junior Nationals cut, and watched my coach jump up and down in celebration—something I had never seen him do before. When I walked over, he smiled, patted me on the shoulder, and said, "Welcome to the 0.1%." That moment changed how I saw myself. It wasn't about finally believing I was talented enough. It was about realizing that I belonged because I had earned it. Whenever I doubt myself, I still think back to those words and remind myself that hard work has a way of proving people—including yourself—wrong. Today, I am a Division I swimmer at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, conference champion, school record holder, team captain, athlete mentor, and founder of Next Level Athletics. On paper, it sounds like success. Behind the scenes, it looks much different. I work a full-time job and two part-time jobs while competing as a Division I athlete because rent, groceries, gas, and everyday life do not stop for swimmers. I am incredibly blessed to have earned a full-tuition scholarship. Without it, I genuinely do not know how I would afford college. I had opportunities to attend larger programs, but doing so would have meant taking on debt simply to keep swimming. That is the reality for far too many high-level swimmers. We ask athletes to dedicate countless hours every week to training, recovery, travel, and competition. We celebrate Olympians every four years, then largely forget about them afterward. We expect excellence while providing very few opportunities to build sustainable careers in the sport we claim to value. One of my athlete-mentees, Parker, once looked at me and said, "I want to be like you." As much as that meant to me, it also broke my heart. She sees the medals, the records, and the excitement. She does not see the financial stress, the burnout, the injuries, or the constant balancing act behind the scenes. She should not have to choose between chasing greatness and being able to pay her bills someday. No young swimmer should. That realization is one of the reasons I founded Next Level Athletics. I wanted to create the opportunities I wish I had growing up. Recruiting often highlights only the athletes already standing at the very top, while countless hardworking swimmers are overlooked simply because they developed later or lacked the right exposure. I wanted current college athletes to mentor younger swimmers, provide honest recruiting guidance, and help bridge the gap between club and collegiate swimming. I saw a need that wasn't being filled, and I decided that if someone was going to fix it, why couldn't it be me? That same belief is why I believe Speed League Swimming is needed right now. Swimming should not demand Olympic-level commitment while offering so few professional opportunities in return. It should be possible to continue competing after college without wondering how you are going to pay rent. Elite swimmers deserve careers, visibility, financial stability, and a league that allows fans to follow them beyond one championship meet every few years. I don't just want to race in Speed League Swimming. I want to help build what it represents. I want to compete at the highest level while using my platform to advocate for athletes, mentor the next generation, and prove that swimmers deserve the same opportunities as athletes in other major sports. If a young swimmer tells me they want to be like me ten years from now, I want that statement to mean they can chase excellence without sacrificing financial security or their future. That is the future I believe Speed League Swimming can create. And that is the future I want to help build.