I was born two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after my twin sister. Chloe frequently claims those two-plus minutes to be the best moments of her life -jokingly of course- but sometimes I wonder if there is a kernel of truth behind that. After all, being a twin is all about comparison and compassion. From our earliest days, the dance of twinhood has been a delicate balance between individuality and unity. While we had our own language, inside jokes, and favorite cartoons, we started everything at different times. When I stumbled my way onto two feet and took my first cautious step, Chloe beat me down with her tiny fists until she was ready to walk two months later. Competition grew as we did. Playing lacrosse, everyone's initial question was “Who’s better?”. We would laugh it off, exchange quick, stiff smiles, and respond that we were equal. But those questions always lingered; who was better? From exams, to friends, to sports we would chafe against each other, trying and failing to find sufficient space to shine when the world forced us into the same spot. We have evolved as separately as possible to avoid the depression of each other's shadows. Our intentionality to avoid hurting each other is what defines our twin bond-a beautiful and fragile dance of unending love and respect. We chose different positions in lacrosse: she is the standout attacker, and I am the midfielder. She is a phenomenal writer, while I excel in math and science. She is gregarious and oblivious; and I am quiet and observant. We are complementary figures, intertwined but never dominating. Twindom is the delicate balance of striving for your own success while also stepping back to allow your best friend to shine. Its selflessness and selfishness; both pride in your opposite, and pride in yourself for supporting her. I have learned how to navigate existence intertwined with another person, mastering the most intrinsic details of empathy, compassion, anger, and frustration and I can confidently say I have learned more about relationships than most people on this planet. She has taught me more than any book, teacher, course or trip ever could. And now I must learn how to teach myself. As we mature and move away, currently over 7,000 miles and 12 time zones apart, I must learn to define myself for myself, not in comparison. I am funny, perhaps not as funny, but funny. I can’t get the entire room to cackle and double over crying, but I have my moments. The world is a little quieter without her wild laughter and waist length hair that inevitably ends up slapping me in the face, but that is okay. There are more books and hikes and sudoku’s successfully completed. And when she returns in a whirlwind of exaggerated stories and infectious laughter, she somehow shines even brighter. Now I understand something I struggled to see before. I am not compassionate, observant, or resilient in comparison to her, I am those things because of her. Growing up beside Chloe has made me a better listener, a better sister, and a more thoughtful friend. The empathy, patience, humor, and resilience that twinhood demanded are the same qualities I now bring into every new relationship I build. Whether in college, in my career, or throughout the rest of my life, I carry with me the lessons learned from two minutes and thirty-seven seconds behind my twin.

Every time I consider opening my mouth to state what is, apparently, a radical opinion, I immediately think better of it. Montana is one of those places where conversations involve more fists than personal opinions, you learn when to keep quiet (always) and when it is acceptable to quietly state that free healthcare, gun control, and human empathy are among the list of things you value (almost never). Here, politics often dictate morality, while empathy is treated as optional. Although we are all immigrants within a culture shaped by Mexican vaqueros, many still fight fiercely to defend traditions that were never entirely theirs. It is always the church and rarely the neighbor. It is always the land and rarely the people. I come from a place of grit, dirt roads, and mountain peaks that stretch endlessly into the sky—but also from a place where prejudice and division persist. And I would never accept this. My intellectual rebellion began with a semester abroad in Southern Africa, an experience that shattered many of the assumptions I had built my worldview upon. There, I studied the lasting effects of colonialism and economic imperialism. I learned about the United States’ role in foreign politics and wars of independence, and I began to understand the dangers of ethnocentrism. More importantly, I began practicing cultural relativism. I realized how essential it is for nations, and individuals, to take responsibility for their actions and perspectives. The United States must reckon with its role in global systems of power, but I also realized that I must take responsibility within my own community. When bigotry, ignorance, or ethnocentrism appear, silence is no longer an option. And with this knowledge my passions grew as well, its wasnt just a love for learning that fueled my anymore- it was a fear of ignorance and that my unknowing involvement fueled wars, genocide, exploitation, and imperialism. I will be the first to admit that returning to Montana was a bit of a shock to say the least. I felt enlightened, perhaps a bit overly so, and was therefore shocked at the constant need to explain that Africa is not a country but a continent. That, no, I could not “speak african” because there are over 1500 diverse and distinct languages. So I threw myself into something I knew I could change. I became the co-president of the Bozeman chapter of PERIOD., a national nonprofit dedicated to eliminating period poverty. Through this work, I helped distribute menstrual products and educational resources throughout my county, ensuring that no student would have to miss school because they lacked access to basic hygiene products. Addressing stigma through education became just as important as providing the supplies themselves. Soon after, I decided to continue expanding my perspective by studying abroad again—this time for an entire year. Now I live in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, where my interests in history, culture, and social justice intersect. Here I study the lasting effects of Dutch colonialism while volunteering with an NGO that promotes gender equity and works to combat human trafficking in the region. I research the connections between religious boarding schools and patriarchal norms that shape gender roles in society. At the same time, I am learning about gender-based violence and navigating these conversations in a language I began studying only four months ago. What I have learned across continents, from Montana to Southern Africa to Indonesia, is that many of our most pressing social issues stem from the same root: ignorance. And education- curious, critical, and compassionate education is the most powerful tool we have to challenge it.

For seven years I ran wild through the Tetons- hiking, fishing, camping, and horseback riding. Physically it was a place of unparalleled freedom, yet mentally and emotionally I was caged. To juxtapose outdated textbooks and conservative teachers' opinions, my mother invested in books. I read about wars, westward expansion, racism, xenophobia, and transphobia. I understood these topics on a more personal note than my mother could have imagined because I witnessed them in conversations with my grandmother, in my textbooks, and in streaked and dirty highway advertisements. Understanding their origins better allowed me to oppose them. However, my life was uprooted when we moved to Santa Barbara, California. Outwardly perceived as a paradise, I found that privilege and poverty could exist on the same block. I discovered the exclusive and discriminatory society of established immigrants in the US who actively disrupted the lives of first-generation immigrants. I saw how my little brother's friend Matteo could be at school one afternoon and deported the next. From those experiences, I learned about the brutality of internal relations and the clash of cultures within the US. Finally, I embarked on a semester abroad program in Southern Africa. There, I explored the effects of colonialism and economic imperialism. I learned of the US’s interference in politics, wars of independence, and discovered the dangers of ethnocentrism. I threw myself into practicing cultural relativism and finally understood the importance of responsibility. The need for the US and other imperialist countries to take responsibility for their past actions. My need to take responsibility in my community to stand against bigotry, ignorance, and ethnocentrism when it appears. I have seen the origins of racism and xenophobia in small-town Idaho, hate and prejudice in California, and encountered ignorance on every American's face when I tell them of life in Southern Africa. Because of these experiences, I am better able to combat oppressive relations in the future and help my community and my country to correct historic injustices. I dream of studying international relations in college, studying abroad as many times as possible, and eventually help to reduce the ethnocentric and ignorant beliefs that plague this country. I want to learn Arabic, Mandarin, and French, fully immerse myself in the complexities of foreign places and eventually help eradicate the inequalities that my country has worked so hard to create. I dream of leading a life filled with compassion, open-mindedness, and curiosity, and extending these values to others. My pie-in-the-sky dream is to become an international relations professional who helps dismantle ethnocentric policy through diplomacy, education, and cross-cultural engagement. I will achieve this through Princeton University’s School for Public and International Affairs where I will plan to pursue my studies. From there I intend to educate myself on history, economics, public policy, empathy, sociology, and anthropology- all necessary to further my personal growth and my ability to give back to the world.

Math is both consistent and relentless. It remains indifferent to human struggles and imperfections, yet it relentlessly pursues perfection. It shapes our character by demanding resilience, dedication, and unyielding motivation, teaching us the value of hard work and mastery. Unlike stories with long-winded narratives and convoluted morals, math provides clear and straightforward lessons. Through complex problem-solving and the swift connection of topics, math equips us with essential life skills. Mathematics is deeply intertwined with history, linking ancient civilizations where written language fell short. It is integral to biology, astronomy, and even art; for instance, the Archimedean spiral transcends the confines of individual subjects, illustrating math's pervasive beauty and complexity. Math underpins many aspects of the world, influencing commerce, economics, and the structures of wealth and inequality. It is fundamental to our understanding of biology, physics, and chemistry, shaping our knowledge of the physical world. Math reveals the intricacies of our world. Society, government, politics, economics, and the trajectory of human civilization all hinge on mathematical principles. For me, math is more than just a subject—it's a source of inspiration and wonder. It instills valuable morals, enhances my comprehension of the world, and enables me to see the beauty in the patterns that define our reality.

A holocaust survivor once said that when everything in life is out of your control, you can always choose your attitude. For someone who has seen the darkest side of humanity to announce this is representative of the monumental action your attitude is. I strive to live in accordance with this mentality every day. The pandemic has exposed the extent to which young adults struggle with mental health, and in an attempt to support my peers, I make it my intention to have a positive impact on everyone I meet. My twin sister gets easily overwhelmed and stressed by tests, tryouts, and tournaments. In advance, I write her sweet notes that I slip into her notebooks or sports bags, I send her silly gifs of yellow bellied marmots (her favorite animal), and I give her a hug before she begins. Despite the fact that I am usually just as nerve-wracked as she is, I always attempt to calm her down because I know she needs reassurance more than I do. My love language is gift making, and I adore creating elaborate cards and homemade gifts for birthdays. I love giving and receiving hugs, and I always try to approach obstacles with an open mind. Whether it's difficult courses, challenging opponents in sports, or relationship problems I always approach the obstacle with a quick smile and a joke. In the future I believe I will be a caring associate, a dedicated student, and I intend to continue to rely on my mindset as my greatest asset when faced with adversity.