In one of my earliest cave explorations, after breaking spider webs and destroying several mob spawners, I discovered a music disc, and immediately became attached to Minecraft. The only reason I went mining was to find diamonds- not to make a pickaxe- to make a jukebox. I was obsessed with the deep, musical attribute of the game, and spent hours on weekends growing my music disc collection and designing “concert” rooms, where I’d share my collection of songs with my friends. Although that was ten years ago, I haven’t changed a bit. My room is centered around my vinyl record player and my collection of hundreds of records, CDs and cassettes. But my most played vinyl is my limited edition, green and white colorway Minecraft Volume Alpha record, complete with a digital download and poster. I play it every night, and it is the only thing that lulls me to sleep. Being diagnosed with OCD, I’ve suffered from insomnia and disturbing intrusive thoughts throughout my entire life. During the day, they are easier to push away, but when I lay down to sleep, alone with my thoughts, I’m stricken with anxiety, guilt, and pain. When I play my vinyl, my mind is able to slow down and relive some of my happiest childhood moments. Ironically, this beautiful video game soundtrack is the only thing that can consistently bring me back to reality. Beginning with “Key,” my racing thoughts slow and I’m brought back to my childhood best friend’s living room, sharing a sticky iPad and building our first house together at age eight. She was in charge of decorating, and I took care of the daily tasks. We worked on that world for years, building monuments, towns, and cities. After COVID-19 relocated my family across the country, I’ve maintained contact with her by playing that same world every week. “Subwoofer Lullaby” then transports me to my old house's carport, playing mini games with my brother on our thrifted, broken TV and Xbox console. After both of my parents lost their jobs, my family was homeless for a few months, moving each night from spare basements to guest rooms. As my parents found creative ways to make ends meet, they saved enough for a tiny home and rented it out throughout the day as a photography studio so the house could essentially pay for itself. Because of that, my brother and I stayed outside for hours every day building worlds together. Despite our inconsistent childhood, lack of privacy, and financial struggles, Minecraft brought us more joy than we could have ever asked for. By this time in the night, my mind has softened and I’m lulled to sleep with the ambient sounds of “Haggstrom,” as I reminisce on my difficult, yet beautiful life. Nostalgia is such a complex thing, and there is nothing in the entire world that makes me feel the way that the Minecraft soundtrack does. Listening to the album, building concert halls, and searching for new discs for my collections allows my mind to slow down, focus, and reminisce on sentimental times that I’ve shared with my closest friends and family members. Though I’ve dealt with severe mental health issues, moving 3,000 miles away from my best friend, and re-building my life after homelessness, music is what’s gotten me through it all, and I have nothing to thank more than Minecraft.

Nine years old. At that age, most girls worry about little things- printing their back-to-school shopping list, or sleeping with all of their stuffed animals at once so none of their feelings get hurt. When I was nine, I was worried about dinner, if we could afford it, and how I was going to tell my friends they couldn’t come over to my house anymore. Of course, at that age, my innocence shielded me, and I wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. Daddy didn’t have to work anymore! Week-long sleepovers at Nora’s house! Free food from the church down the road! Honestly, homelessness was very exciting to a little girl. At least for the first few weeks. But as we moved from house to shelter, to house, to shelter, it wasn’t very fun anymore. My parents started arguing, then fighting, then crying, and it was all so much for a nine-year-old to handle. I thought they didn’t love each other anymore, and I cried myself to sleep thinking they were going to divorce the next day. I started working for neighbors- taking care of pets, mowing lawns, cleaning, etc. All of my hard-earned money went to paying for my family’s meals. My childhood had been taken from me, ripped from my hands in an instant. During this time, my adolescent brain looked for a way to escape. With no house, nature became my home. I spent my days on walks in the forest, picking blackberries, climbing trees, and catching frogs in streams. I explored abandoned houses and wondered if little girls like me used to live there. I wondered if they were taken from their homes, too. I made flower crowns and snuck into gardens, watching cucumbers and tomatoes grow. I no longer felt alone, because everything around me became my friend. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and eventually turned into three years. My family slowly began crawling back up above the poverty line. They started their own businesses, which began taking off. Soon, we were able to go to the store again instead of the food pantry. We could each have our own plate instead of sharing servings. We could go on house tours and find a new place for all of my toys. Today, I am seventeen years old. My family and I live with my grandmother. I worry about paying for college, finding a house of my own, and how I am going to afford adulthood. Ironically, when these thoughts come to me, I get transported back to my childhood. Though I am no longer houseless, my mind still carries habits and behaviors from when I was. I want to use my experiences to help others. Today, 12% of Americans and 14% of North Carolinians live below the poetry line, and these numbers are climbing. Nothing prepares you for being homeless, and it is such a deep hole to try and get out of. I plan on getting my real estate license when I turn 18, and attending college. I'm studying business and environmental science, much like when I was a kid, working for my neighbors and spending days in the forest. I am starting my own company that takes a monetary percentage from houses sold and uses the profits to create sustainable tiny homes for houseless people. The only thing I want to do in my life is help people, and I can’t wait for the day that I meet a nine-year-old girl, hold her in my arms, and tell her that she has nothing to worry about anymore.

As one of the most talented lyricists of our generation, J. Cole’s “Love Yourz” has an incredibly important message, and has had an incredible impact on my life. The song talks about Cole’s life growing up poor, and how his perception of the world has changed with money and fame. He says that throughout the drastic changes he’s been through, he’s learned a valuable lesson, which is to be grateful for what you have. Growing up as a low-income, homeless kid, I heavily relate to this track. Now, I am blessed to be living in a home with my grandmother, but I still often find myself complaining. “Love Yourz” reminds me of all of the things that I’ve been through, and how grateful I should be for what I have, especially considering how far I’ve come. Cole says there is “beauty in the struggle,” of just living your life. As the hook goes, he convinces us that there’s “no such thing as a life that’s better than yours.” This song has a beautiful message, and it has had a massive influence on my life and the person I am today.

My stomach is a monster; it roars and growls, echoing in the empty cavern that is my body. My heart is a storm; it beats as irregularly as a thunderclap and shoots pain as electrifying as a strike of lightning. My mind is a prison; my thoughts are not my own. I am held captive in my own being, which I could not recognize if I tried. My eating disorder, specifically atypical anorexia and bulimia, has ruled my life for three years and counting. It is impossible to describe the immense pain, confusion, and shame that comes with this illness, but if I could sum it up into one word, it would be this: torture. Recently, eating disorders have been more represented in the media, in both good and bad ways. Positively, I think it has opened up opportunities for essential conversations that were uncomfortable or uncommon before. Negatively, however, I think the media has heavily romanticized what it is like living with an eating disorder. If there is anything I could emphasize about this illness, it would be that I would never wish it on anyone else. I grew up overweight. Heart conditions, obesity, and the love of food run deep in my family. Throughout elementary and middle school, strangers, classmates- even friends- made fun of my body. I developed deeply rooted self-confidence issues and cried myself to sleep nearly every night. Over quarantine, I decided I was going to make a change. I was going to lose weight for real this time. I desperately wanted this, and I was confident that the more I lost, the better I would feel. So I started exercising, eating healthily, and counting my calories. I lost about 20 pounds healthily. Suddenly, I was someone special. People complimented me all of the time. I could wear cute clothes that fit me. I could run upstairs without being out of breath. Then, everyone's new opinions of me became my identity. So I started restricting more. And more. Then I learned a fun trick: as long as I purged afterward, I could eat anything I wanted. Throughout the past three years, my weight has been a rollercoaster. In total, I've lost 70 pounds so far. I've never felt worse. Most people don't realize that anorexia and bulimia have extremely harmful physical and mental effects. It's not just being hungry. My hair has fallen out. My tooth enamel has decayed. I am cold, tired, and nauseous all of the time. Mentally, I have distanced myself from my family and friends. I can't go to parties, social events, or restaurants. Above everything else, I am controlled by the number on the scale. I felt so embarrassed about my disorder and couldn't talk about it to anyone, not even my closest friends. Then, a classmate of mine committed suicide due to his struggles with anorexia. He was fifteen. At that moment, something changed inside of me. I realized that I could bring awareness to EDs even though I hadn't recovered yet. This year, I have joined clubs that work within my school to destigmatize mental health issues and eating disorders, and I have educated my friends, family, and other classmates about the harmful effects. During my college experience, I want to start my own clubs, social media accounts, and support groups for people who deal with eating disorders. I am creating a non-profit organization that provides free therapy and recovery help to those who can't afford it. Eating disorders kill, and we must all do our best to save the lives of those who can't save themselves.

My stomach is a monster; it roars and growls, echoing in the empty cavern that is my body. My heart is a storm; it beats as irregularly as a thunderclap and shoots pain as electrifying as a strike of lightning. My mind is a prison; my thoughts are not my own. I am held captive in my own being, which I could not recognize if I tried. My eating disorder, specifically atypical anorexia and bulimia, has ruled my life for three years and counting. It is impossible to describe the immense pain, confusion, and shame that comes with this illness, but if I could sum it up into one word, it would be this: torture. Recently, eating disorders have been more represented in the media, in both good and bad ways. Positively, I think it has opened up opportunities for essential conversations that were uncomfortable or uncommon before. Negatively, however, I think the media has heavily romanticized what it is like living with an eating disorder. If there is anything I could emphasize about this illness, it would be that I would never wish it on anyone else. I grew up overweight. Heart conditions, obesity, and the love of food run deep in my family. Throughout elementary and middle school, strangers, classmates- even friends- made fun of my body. I developed deeply rooted self-confidence issues and cried myself to sleep nearly every night. Over quarantine, I decided I was going to make a change. I was going to lose weight for real this time. I desperately wanted this, and I was confident that the more I lost, the better I would feel. So I started exercising, eating healthily, and counting my calories. I lost about 20 pounds healthily. Suddenly, I was someone special. People complimented me all of the time. I could wear cute clothes that fit me. I could run upstairs without being out of breath. Then, everyone's new opinions of me became my identity. So I started restricting more. And more. Then I learned a fun trick: as long as I purged afterward, I could eat anything I wanted. Throughout the past three years, my weight has been a rollercoaster. In total, I've lost 70 pounds so far. I've never felt worse. Most people don't realize that anorexia and bulimia have extremely harmful physical and mental effects. It's not just being hungry. My hair has fallen out. My tooth enamel has decayed. I am cold, tired, and nauseous all of the time. Mentally, I have distanced myself from my family and friends. I can't go to parties, social events, or restaurants. Above everything else, I am controlled by the number on the scale. I felt so embarrassed about my disorder and couldn't talk about it to anyone, not even my closest friends. Then, a classmate of mine committed suicide due to his struggles with anorexia. He was fifteen. At that moment, something changed inside of me. I realized that I could bring awareness to EDs even though I hadn't recovered yet. This year, I have joined clubs that work within my school to destigmatize mental health issues and eating disorders, and I have educated my friends, family, and other classmates about the harmful effects. During my college experience, I want to start my own clubs, social media accounts, and support groups for people who deal with eating disorders. I am creating a non-profit organization that provides free therapy and recovery help to those who can't afford it. Eating disorders kill, and we must all do our best to save the lives of those who can't save themselves.

It's no shock- one of the biggest problems facing the world today is poverty. Nearly 10% of people on Earth live in extreme poverty. 14.4% of kids under 18 live below the official poverty measure. These rates have spiked at an alarming rate in the past few years. I have always been passionate about children and families in poverty, and I have always seen the problem. For my 6th birthday, I set up what I called the "50-day Challenge." In the 50 days approaching my birthday, I encouraged my family and friends to donate a dollar to helping children in Nicaragua with clean water, food, and education. I asked for the dollar instead of any birthday gifts- and I was pretty insistent (especially for an almost six-year-old). My 50-day Challenge grew online and was even on the news at one point. I ended up raising over 1,500 dollars for the kids in a small Nicaraguan village. With this money, we were able to incredible things. I got to travel to Nicaragua. We built a well, which provided clean water. We made and served a large meal, which provided food. We bought a roof for the local school, which helped kids get a better education. I will never forget the look on everyone's face after we finished the jobs. Their lives changed forever, and I played a part in that. After coming home, I felt compelled to continue this change. I couldn't stop now. So I continued working. Since then, I've gone back to Nicaragua, and I plan to travel more after COVID-19. Of course, these sorts of trips take a lot of money, time, and dedication. As a school-age kid, there is not a lot of room for flexibility. So I started acting locally. I serve meals to the homeless in my city, invite them to my church clinic for free healthcare, and help get them on track for a better life. I serve at my local food pantry and help underprivileged kids with education. Helping others is genuinely my biggest passion, and what I feel is my calling in life. I want to see more focused attention on troubled or underprivileged youth because they are the next generation of adults. My dream career is to become CEO of my own business that promotes this sort of global help to kids and teens. I plan to go on many more mission trips in the span of my lifetime, and I hope to change the lives of those around me. With the growth of social media and online resources, it is easier than ever to influence your community. I plan to use social media to encourage others to act locally for global change. I want to grow to be an inspiring figure towards other young kids, girls especially, who want to change the world. When I set goals for myself, I get them done no matter what. I am excited to see what my future holds and how I will affect my community in the upcoming years of my life. By starting local and moving forward with passion and determination, I believe anyone can change the world, myself included.

Traveling is one of the most nourishing and beneficial activities for the human soul. It is one of my biggest passions, and I don't say that lightly. Traveling isn't a vacation to me- it is the best way to develop character, empathy, and compassion for others. I have discovered who I am and how I want to interact with others through travel. So far, I have been to half of the states in America. My goal is to have been to all of them by the time I turn 30! My family and I took a cross-country road trip last summer due to our move. It was far more interesting than I ever would have expected! It was crazy to see how many different cultures and traditions there were in the United States alone. A common thread throughout the country was art. Countless forms of art like music, digital art, murals, and fashion statements, were put on display in all the states I traveled through. The United States has many beautiful artists and ways they show their form of creativity, but what about in other countries? I have been to five countries so far, and my two favorites have been Nicaragua and Mexico. It isn't far away, but the shift in culture and expression is immediate. There are bright colors everywhere, paintings that illustrate vivid ideas and dreams, and music that reminds us just how beautiful art can be. The people are different, too. So much more welcoming and extravagant than US citizens. Locals welcome you with open arms and have an admirable zest for life, even though they don't have much. It is truly inspiring to see people with such different lives, with so much less, so happy. It has inspired me as a person and as an artist. I have found my passion in life. I have grown into a more caring, compassionate, determined person who has big goals. I put more effort into understanding others; whether literally, by learning a language; or emotionally, just by listening. My music is more extensive, more emotional, and more universal. After learning about new cultures and their forms of expression, I discovered how to incorporate that into my music. I plan to travel as much as I can in the future, especially after COVID-19. After seeing my personal growth in a couple of years, I can't imagine how much I will mature in a lifetime of traveling. I could never have grown as much as an artist and as a person if it weren't for travel.

For as long as I remember, I have been overweight. Growing up, my parents were body-positive and told me I was beautiful just the way I was. Despite their positive affirmations, it was always hard to be called the "fat friend," or "Fatty Madi." I have always been the type to rely too heavily on other's opinions, so the name-calling shattered my confidence. Each year, I seemed to get bigger, and kids seemed to get meaner. Middle school was the hardest for me. I began struggling with social anxiety, depression, and hatred towards myself and my body. After getting a phone and social media, my mental health suffered. Everyone was gorgeous online, and none of them looked like me. In my mind, that translated into meaning that I was not beautiful. That's when things took a turn for me. I used to be super outgoing and personable, but I grew shy and didn't talk to anyone. I transferred out of school because I could not take the constant fear of being bullied because of my weight. I disconnected from my family and friends. I had no one but myself, who I hated. After looking up how to lose weight, I learned about calories and that all you had to do to lose weight was burn more than you ate. So I stopped eating. And sure enough, the weight came off. After losing ten pounds in a week, I felt sick and more depressed. It got worse after I began eating again- I gained all the weight back plus some. My depression and self-confidence got so bad that I genuinely thought that I was unworthy of love. I contemplated suicide at thirteen years old. Everyone tried to help- my parents, my friends, my doctors. But nothing seemed to work. When I was at my lowest point, I had a sudden realization. It had to start with me. I had to learn to love and accept myself before I could lose weight. So after graduating eighth grade, I began my journey through self-love and acceptance. I used quotes and positive affirmations that inspired me. I started taking care of my body by eating right and staying active. I re-connected with my friends and family, cut off toxic people in my life, and developed new, healthy relationships. Throughout this process, I have developed a passion for healthy living. By changing my lifestyle, I have lost nearly fifty pounds. I want to encourage young girls to practice self-love and acceptance while still being the healthiest version of themselves they can be. I am a Girl Scout and plan to do a project about this for my Gold Award. I am still on my journey today, and I still struggle. But now I can say that I am healthy, confident, and love myself the way I am. It starts with you.

These pictures mean the world to me. Three summers ago, I went on a mission trip to Nicaragua. In these particular pictures, we served at a local dump, where I was surprised to learn that this was called "home" to many families. We arrived to serve them a large meal, and I saw this little boy walk up to me with big eyes and a big bowl, ready for food. After leaving the dump that day, I have not lived life the same way. I plan to become an entrepreneur and move to Nicaragua to help conserve life every day.

This picture means the world to me. As soon as I saw this scholarship, I knew that my photograph fit the bill perfectly. Three summers ago, I went on a mission trip to Nicaragua. We served there for two weeks, helping children gain an opportunity for education, clean water, and food. After reading the donor's bio, this scholarship hit even closer to my heart knowing that they also share my passion for international children's education. In this particular picture, we were serving at a local dump, where I was surprised to learn that this was called "home" to many families. I watched as they dug through mounds of garbage to collect recyclables, as this would determine their income for the week. We arrived to serve them a large meal, and I saw this little boy walk up to me with big eyes and a big bowl, ready for food. There's no way to accurately describe the feeling of both compassion and sadness I felt for this boy. Most of the wonderful people who live in the dump are never able to make it out- most succumb to their malnourishment before they grow into an adult. This is why the title "Conserve Life" applies to my photograph. After leaving the dump that day, I have not lived life the same way. I plan to become an entrepreneur and move to Nicaragua to help conserve life every day, instead of just for a short-term mission trip.

I would have never imagined myself here, at her funeral. My nineteen-year-old cousin, who was like a sister to me, was lying lifeless in front of me. Let me back up. When I was eight years old, I moved from my childhood home in Charlotte, North Carolina, across the country. Eight months ago, my family and I lived in Seattle, Washington. We have been struggling a lot financially lately, and we thought it would be a good idea to spend the summer with my grandmother to save money on rent. We arrived back in Charlotte on May fifth. Two days later, I checked my phone and saw seven missed calls and a voicemail from my best friend. Knowing something was off, I quickly called her back. She answered the call sobbing, saying that her sister had been in a car accident, and she didn't know how bad it was. There is no way to describe the unimaginable, but I can try. My heart dropped to my stomach- I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Not Morgan, the girl I had only seen the day before. It wasn't possible. But it was. Later that day, we learned the facts of the accident. Morgan, my poor nineteen-year-old cousin, was hit by an intoxicated driver going 80 miles per hour in a 35 mile per hour speed limit zone. She had suffered countless injuries- almost all of the bones in her body were shattered. She had severe internal bleeding. Her body was broken. We later found out that it was not only her body but her mind as well. Within the first night, she had two brain hemorrhages and should have left her dead from the beginning. But she persisted and was eventually sent to a traumatic brain injury hospital. For the next seven months, she went through more than twenty-five critical surgeries and fought for her life. She showed almost no signs of consciousness and could barely move any given part of her body. Miraculously, she began making progress and was about to be discharged from the hospital when things took an instant downfall. Her body stopped responding to the ventilator, and within the next three days, she had passed away. Due to COVID-19, I was not able to visit or say goodbye to her. On December 4th, 2020, I was in the same room with her- but she wasn't there with me. There is no way to describe the shock of the death of a loved one. As a fourteen-year-old, I have never fully experienced this form of loss until now. But this experience has completely changed me as a person. I have learned patience, compassion, and that life is short. I have realized how valuable life is, as Morgan Grace Wetherbee's story has impacted an immense amount of many people. Morgan was such a talented artist, and she would have never imagined how many lives she has impacted. In addition to this, I have learned an incredible amount of patience. Before this traumatic event, I was a very impatient person. I couldn't even wait for the microwave to finish my popcorn. Waiting every day for an update, waiting weeks for any signs of life, and waiting months for any form of improvement, have all strengthened my sense of patience. I have gained a sense of compassion. Grieving takes so much out of a person, especially when it is someone so close to you. These past eight months, I have both given and received a beautiful amount of compassion, even from strangers. I have learned that sometimes, we just need to love. People say that everything heals with time, but the truth is there will always be a hole in my heart. There is no way to replace Morgan, and I realize that. But I believe that my family and I will always be there to support one another, giving love and compassion when we need it. I have learned that life is short and that we should live for today. Nothing is guaranteed, and I have never realized that before. Now that I understand I should never take anything for granted, I can assure you I will never live the same.

I would have never imagined myself here, at her funeral. My nineteen-year-old cousin, who was like a sister to me, was lying lifeless in front of me. Let me back up. When I was eight years old, I moved from my childhood home in Charlotte, North Carolina, across the country. Eight months ago, my family and I lived in Seattle, Washington. We have been struggling a lot financially lately, and we thought it would be a good idea to spend the summer with my grandmother to save money on rent. We arrived back in Charlotte on May fifth. Two days later, I checked my phone and saw seven missed calls and a voicemail from my best friend. Knowing something was off, I quickly called her back. She answered the call sobbing, saying that her sister had been in a car accident, and she didn't know how bad it was. There is no way to describe the unimaginable, but I can try. My heart dropped to my stomach- I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Not Morgan, the girl I had only seen the day before. It wasn't possible. But it was. Later that day, we learned the facts of the accident. Morgan, my poor nineteen-year-old cousin, was hit by an intoxicated driver going 80 miles per hour in a 35 mile per hour speed limit zone. She had suffered countless injuries- almost all of the bones in her body were shattered. She had severe internal bleeding. Her body was broken. We later found out that it was not only her body but her mind as well. Within the first night, she had two brain hemorrhages and should have left her dead from the beginning. But she persisted and was eventually sent to a traumatic brain injury hospital. For the next seven months, she went through more than twenty-five critical surgeries and fought for her life. She showed almost no signs of consciousness and could barely move any given part of her body. Miraculously, she began making progress and was about to be discharged from the hospital when things took an instant downfall. Her body stopped responding to the ventilator, and within the next three days, she had passed away. Due to COVID-19, I was not able to visit or say goodbye to her. On December 4th, 2020, I was in the same room with her- but she wasn't there with me. There is no way to describe the shock of the death of a loved one. As a fourteen-year-old, I have never fully experienced this form of loss until now. But this experience has completely changed me as a person. I have learned patience, compassion, and that life is short. I have realized how valuable life is, as Morgan Grace Wetherbee's story has impacted an immense amount of many people. Morgan was such a talented artist, and she would have never imagined how many lives she has impacted. In addition to this, I have learned an incredible amount of patience. Before this traumatic event, I was a very impatient person. I couldn't even wait for the microwave to finish my popcorn. Waiting every day for an update, waiting weeks for any signs of life, and waiting months for any form of improvement, have all strengthened my sense of patience. I have gained a sense of compassion. Grieving takes so much out of a person, especially when it is someone so close to you. These past eight months, I have both given and received a beautiful amount of compassion, even from strangers. I have learned that sometimes, we just need to love. People say that everything heals with time, but the truth is there will always be a hole in my heart. There is no way to replace Morgan, and I realize that. But I believe that my family and I will always be there to support one another, giving love and compassion when we need it.

I am so thankful for my education. I have personally traveled to countries where education is a luxury that so few can afford. I've seen families give up everything they have for their children's education, as it could potentially bring them out of poverty. To them, education is an opportunity that could change their lives entirely. Keeping this in mind, I never give up and work as hard as possible on everything I do. I know how lucky I am to have such accessible schooling, and I never take it for granted. Although education is accessible location-wise, it can be expensive. My family has struggled for a long time financially, and we have even been homeless at times. Our situation has made it very difficult to set aside money for college. We are currently living with my grandmother and trying to save up money for a house. With college right around the corner, scholarships have become very important to me. I strongly want to pursue a college education because I believe it will be significant to my career. I am looking to be an entrepreneur- the owner and creator of an international business that helps children gain clean water, food, and education. Knowing how life-changing an education can be to a growing child, it is my passion to do as much as I can to help that. Paul Shane Spear said, "As one person I cannot change the world, but I can change the world of one person." This quote is one I live by, and it helps me remember the importance of education- even just for one person. I am so thankful for my current education and will continue to work hard to pay for college.

A song that inspires me is "This Is Me" by Keala Settle. This song is in my playlist of Inspirational Songs, and it makes me feel beautiful, despite my insecurities and flaws. My playlist elaborates on this song, and I listen to this music when I am feeling down or self-conscious. I've been bullied for most of my life and have never felt good enough, but this music inspires me. My Inspirational Playlist makes me realize that I am beautiful, no matter what the world may tell me.

My role model is a missionary in Uganda named Katie Davis Majors. She works every day as a kindergarten teacher to young children who have had a difficult upbringing. She adopted thirteen little girls into her family, even while she was still a single, 19-year old. She left her past life in Tennessee as a trust-fund homecoming queen to pursue her dream of serving in Uganda, despite her parents' disapproval. She is my role model because that is exactly what I want to do with my life! Ever since I was six years old, I've wanted to serve as a missionary in a developing country. My whole family has served as missionaries, and I've learned how important it is to recognize others' needs and cultures. For my sixth birthday, I asked my friends who attended my birthday party for a dollar instead of presents. I had planned for the money to go towards building a well in Nicaragua for a small village to have access to clean water. My story spread like wildfire throughout my hometown, Charlotte, North Carolina, and I ended up raising over $5,000. With the money, my entire immediate family was able to travel to Nicaragua and dig and build the well ourselves! Along with this, the remainder of the money was used to build a roof on the local school so that children could attend even during their rainy season. After this experience, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life- even when I was six years old! When we got back from our trip, my mom told me about Katie Davis Majors, and my story was so similar. I always wanted to help in other countries, but I had no idea it could be a career! When I found out that this was a career possibility, I knew that starting a business in Nicaragua was exactly what I wanted to do with my life. Whenever I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered "a businesswoman in Central America!" and they would just laugh at me. As a woman, it is very difficult to become an entrepreneur with the expectations of motherhood in mind. Every time someone would tell me I couldn't do that, I told them about Katie Davis Majors, and how she was an entrepreneur in Uganda with thirteen kids. I would smirk as they stared back at me in disbelief. She has always inspired me and let me know that I could do it. Although I don't know Katie personally, I feel like we are the same person- we share a similar background and passion for helping children in developing countries. We were both raised by parents with strict rules who never thought of their daughter living alone in a foreign country. I'm planning to go on a mission trip to Nicaragua this summer, if COVID-19 allows, and speak with other founders of businesses there that have inspired and helped so many people. I have a plan to graduate from a four-year college with my bachelor's degree in International Business, then move to Nicaragua and pursue my business career full-time. I could never thank Katie Davis Majors enough for the inspiration and motivation behind becoming a businesswoman in a developing country, despite the expectations of others.

My role model is a missionary in Uganda named Katie Davis Majors. She works every day as a kindergarten teacher to young children who have had a difficult upbringing. She adopted thirteen little girls into her family, even while she was still a single, 19-year old. She left her past life in Tennessee as a trust-fund homecoming queen to pursue her dream of serving in Uganda, despite her parents' disapproval. She is my role model because that is exactly what I want to do with my life! Ever since I was six years old, I've wanted to serve as a missionary in a developing country. My whole family has served as missionaries, and I've learned how important it is to recognize others' needs and cultures. For my sixth birthday, I asked my friends who attended my birthday party for a dollar instead of presents. I had planned for the money to go towards building a well in Nicaragua for a small village to have access to clean water. My story spread like wildfire throughout my hometown, Charlotte, North Carolina, and I ended up raising over $5,000. With the money, my entire immediate family was able to travel to Nicaragua and dig and build the well ourselves! Along with this, the remainder of the money was used to build a roof on the local school so that children could attend even during their rainy season. After this experience, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life- even when I was six years old! When we got back from our trip, my mom told me about Katie Davis Majors, and my story was so similar. I always wanted to help in other countries, but I had no idea it could be a career! When I found out that this was a career possibility, I knew that starting a business in Nicaragua was exactly what I wanted to do with my life. Whenever I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered "a businesswoman in Central America!" and they would just laugh at me. As a woman, it is very difficult to become an entrepreneur with the expectations of motherhood in mind. Every time someone would tell me I couldn't do that, I told them about Katie Davis Majors, and how she was an entrepreneur in Uganda with thirteen kids. I would smirk as they stared back at me in disbelief. She has always inspired me and let me know that I could do it. Although I don't know Katie personally, I feel like we are the same person- we share a similar background and passion for helping children in developing countries. We were both raised by parents with strict rules who never thought of their daughter living alone in a foreign country. I'm planning to go on a mission trip to Nicaragua this summer, if COVID-19 allows, and speak with other founders of businesses there that have inspired and helped so many people. I have a plan to graduate from a four-year college with my bachelor's degree in International Business, then move to Nicaragua and pursue my business career full-time. I could never thank Katie Davis Majors enough for the inspiration and motivation behind becoming a businesswoman in a developing country, despite the expectations of others.

If money wasn't an issue, I would spend as much of my time as possible traveling the world and helping developing countries. I feel as though it is extremely important to experience others' way of life to learn how to properly communicate and respect those around me. I have personally been on three "mission trips" to small, developing countries in Central America, and each experience has made me a better person. Through these trips, I've found my passion for helping young children in need of food, clean water, and education. I went on my first mission trip to Nicaragua when I turned 6 years old. Instead of presents for my birthday, I asked for a dollar from all of my friends who came to my birthday party- I wanted the money to go towards a well for a small village in Nicaragua. My story spread through my home city, in Charlotte, North Carolina, and I ended up raising over $5,000. With this money, my entire immediate family was able to travel to Nicaragua and personally dig and build a well for the small village. Along with this, we were also able to build a roof for the local school, enabling the children to go to school even during their rainy season. This was the point where I knew what I wanted to do with my life- even at six years old! If money weren't an issue, I can only imagine the possibilities for developing countries all over the world.