From the moment I delved into psychology, I was captivated by its theories and practices. The evolution from its early roots to its contemporary potential enraptured my interest. While my initial focus was on pursuing a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, my journey through neuroscience and cognitive psychology at my transfer school led me to a different path that resonates with academia and cognitive research. Psychology, often linked to mental health, extends its influence beyond therapeutic practices. Even seemingly mundane research plays a crucial role in nurturing individual well-being. It offers insights that help us comprehend and apply our findings in everyday life, from designing everyday objects to shaping education methodologies. The scope of psychology spans beyond counseling; it enriches human existence through comprehensive research. I am committed to contributing to the foundational tenets of this field and advancing our comprehension of human capabilities. As an immigrant, a bilingual individual, and someone who has confronted challenges of depression, anxiety, and seeking confirmation on an Autism Spectrum Disorder diagnosis, I experience the direct impact of psychology in my daily life. The keyboard I type on, a product of human factors psychology, reflects the field's endeavor to create universally user-friendly designs. My academic interests extend to exploring how immigration and culture influence the development of psychopathology. I aspire to unravel the intricacies of language acquisition and its effects on cognitive and sociocognitive constructs. My engagement in research on language learning and test design for second language acquisition has underscored the significance of effective communication. I envision myself primarily investigating this niche alongside neuroimaging assessments, behavioral analyses, and comprehensive examinations of cognitive constructs, all within the broader context of society and cultural variations. However, my experience goes beyond the confines of language acquisition. I had the privilege of assisting my research mentor with the Einstein Aging study, a longitudinal investigation centered on Alzheimer's and dementia. My involvement included translating an app into Spanish and will keep anssisting over the course of this year as an assistant for that project. Furthermore my own independent research looks at the connection between second language acquisition and the development of neurodegenerative disorders, as well as the methodology we use to explore language, having created a new survey of bilingualism and a new protocol implementing tasks and vocal biomarker identification. I recently collaborated with Dr. Ioulia Kovelman at the University of Michigan on her upcoming project. This initiative seeks to understand the intricacies of dyslexia and reading developmental disorders in monolingual and bilingual children. Investigating whether morphological reading, in contrast to traditional phonological reading, accelerates reading milestones in these individuals and offers compensatory capabilities in reading development. While my contribution was focused on pilot data collection, the project's broader scope involves a comprehensive assessment of English-speaking children and English-Spanish and English-Chinese bilingual children. The project includes behavioral assessments, reading comprehension tasks, priming studies, and neuroimaging analyses. Similarly, I have served as a mental health advocate on the online platform 7Cups, extending a helping hand to diverse individuals facing challenging circumstances. Engaging in deep conversations and providing vital emotional support to peers from diverse backgrounds and around the world. My journey in psychology has been profound, rooted in personal experience, and a fervent desire to contribute to the betterment of society. This scholarship opportunity resonates deeply with my aspirations, aligning with my commitment to understanding the complexities of human cognition and behavior. I am dedicated to making a meaningful impact on mental health awareness and research, guided by the spirit of Ethan To's memory.

I found myself on the path towards academia and mental health from humble origins: an immigrant, a transfer student from Miami Dade College, with a vague idea of wanting to do research. Nonetheless, wanting and doing are not synonyms, especially when you are the first one in your family to go to college in a different country, leaving me to stumble around often and fail, but this allowed me to become stronger and notice the gaps I wish someone had pointed out for me. I was passionate about research and making research at the undergraduate level more accessible for members of the student body who may not be familiar with it. My diverse experiences as president and editor of Miambiance, my current involvement as part of the Student Undergraduate Research Council, PeerKnight Coaching for the LEARN program, the Mentoring Program for the Mexican Student Association, along with my work as a member of the Florida Undergraduate Research Journal have allowed me not only to understand how expansive mental health as a field is but how different subfields in social and behavioral sciences interpret it and work to improve the lives of those around us. Since 2021, I have been a full-time cognitive researcher. I am deeply interested in looking at bilingualism and polyglotism and how these two constructs affect behavioral trends in people. Within this, I am drawn to the following core concept: what factors affect how one becomes a second language speaker? (can immigration, discrimination, and identity affect this?) and how, in turn, bilingualism and those factors affect cognitive performance, protect an individual against psychopathology and neurodegeneration, and how we, as scientists, can improve the methods. In terms of improving our current methods, I am working on developing an algorithm that detects vocal biomarkers that are associated with learning and adopting traits from a new language, but this one would, in theory, also be able to identify whether someone's mood or existence of disorders affects this process. In other words, we take a holistic perspective of how different mental and environmental factors affect how we become language learners. My research has also taken me to other laboratories where I have used neuroimaging and behavioral testing to study how to assist children with dyslexia and similar disabilities better as they are trying to learn how to read and how to create compensatory methods that would lead them to be at the same level as their peers. Once I graduate, I look forward to entering a doctoral program in Cognitive Psychology so that I never stop this pursuit of knowledge so that my research becomes something others can study and learn from or refute and improve. I want to continue looking at the development of language learning and advocate for better methodologies implemented in classrooms. I wish my research included aging populations at risk of Alzheimer's and dementia so we can detect them earlier. This scholarship would thus facilitate my path towards that goal in the short term by allowing me to afford classes that I typically paid for with my own money, something that just because I can do does not mean it is easy or stress-inducing. Getting this scholarship would mean that I will graduate on time and that I can take all the classes I need next semester. Every voice deserves to be included in academia, whether as a researcher or a participant. I want to exemplify this value through my work in and outside of labs.

Upon arriving in the United States, I believed that being here meant I could achieve any goal and that this country offered equal opportunities for all. In contrast to my native Venezuela, where political instability, trauma, and limited resources hindered growth, I saw the U.S. as my best option to flourish professionally. However, I soon realized that systemic challenges persist for immigrants, especially those without a citizenship-conductive status. High school and community college were manageable, but the challenges intensified when I transferred to a four-year institution. My mom and I shared the financial burden, with her working extra hours to support us both. My father in Venezuela contributed when possible. I raced to graduate quickly, seeking cost-cutting measures while hoping my sacrifices would pay off and allow me to pursue a doctorate in cognitive psychology. As I delved into research, I confronted the stark underrepresentation of Latinos in academia, particularly among undocumented, DACAmented, TPS recipients, and asylees. It struck me as unjust that access to some of the best sources of funding in most fields required proof of citizenship. Why were we forced to accept meager opportunities or work without compensation when our research contributions were no less valuable? This realization turned me into a vocal advocate for underrepresented communities in academic and medical fields, especially those who are undocumented. As a student leader within various initiatives and organizations in Florida and my university, I strive to inspire by example, raise awareness about opportunities, and pave the way for future professionals. I find some comfort in knowing that if I do not get to enjoy the benefits and fruits of this labor, perhaps others will. Opportunities for non-citizens remain scarce. As we aspire to Ph. D.s and M.D.s, we compete fiercely, seeking summer research programs, fellowships, grants, and scholarships, seeking to prove that we are worthy of these honors, these opportunities; showing that we are well-rounded applicants in a very cutthroat system. Yet, citizens have thousands of opportunities, while we have a dozen at best meaning in a very competitive pool of applicants, we have to work sometimes twice as hard in hopes of finding one program that will deem us worthy, that will hear our concerns and pains and look over them, and see us for what we offer, our potential and finally let us continue our work. I look forward to entering a doctoral program in Cognitive Psychology so that I never stop this pursuit of knowledge so that my research becomes something others can study and learn from or refute and improve. Getting this scholarship would mean that I will graduate on time and that I can take all the classes I need next semester. My research endeavors aim to contribute to the knowledge others can study, learn from, challenge, and improve upon. In its purest form, social science research seeks to understand the complex interplay of factors that shape our identities and behaviors, encompassing politics, economics, environment, culture, ethnicity, social status, and biology. Science itself is deeply tied to our identities and values. Cognitive psychology, specifically, examines the constructs influencing human behavior. I aspire to study immigration as a factor in language development and neurodegenerative diseases, which have gained prominence in psychological research but often neglect immigrant perspectives. I have come far from the days when I could barely speak English and will not stop until I reach the stars, but if I can get others to join me in this journey that is life and even go above and beyond the stars, then I know I have done what I set myself to do.

I remember seeing my first golf course as a child: luscious green fields of the mountains of Caracas, Venezuela. The same golf course my dad grew up playing in, and the golf course that made him develop an unparalleled passion for the sport. I may have been too young back then to get started, but I grew up watching my dad playing it, attending the local course in Margarita, and becoming familiar with it. I was hooked when it was time to continue the tradition and get my first set of golf clubs when I was eight. For years I went twice a week every week to the only golf course in my home state, went to classes and tournaments, and enjoyed this opportunity. Different from the United States, golf is really an uncommon sport for anyone to practice, let alone women. I vividly remember there being only three women who played golf in my home state, one of them being my instructor, until she emigrated, at which point my dad become my sole instructor. Golf became a bonding activity, allowing us to spend hours together on the course and at the golf club. I made friends thanks to being in golf classes, friendships I keep to this day, and I had the amazing opportunity to learn about this beautiful sport. Despite me not playing as much as I used to, with me not having the time to go to golf courses nor the community now that I am in the United States, I still really enjoy it and see it as some of the best memories I have ever had in my life. There is something invigorating about being out there in the field, connecting with everything around us, connecting with the other holders, and also just enjoying oneself as the game progresses. When it comes to challenges, I think that the main one for me was one of seeing representation of Latina golfers in professional environments, as well as a problem with accessibility to the sport in the island, especially as a woman: I was not allowed to go on my own to the golf course, had always to be escorted by family members of male friends, there were not as many tournaments for me to participate in or when there were, I would compete as a child against adult women and some slightly older boys. It felt for years as if I did not have an actual place on the golf course outside of my shared moments with a couple of my friends, my coach, and my dad; and sometimes I wonder if my experience would have been different had there been other female players in my state.

Psychology is a beautiful field open to curious minds and creative people, where identity informs who we become as professionals. Having been raised in a school that heavily emphasized science and research, and later on, coming into the United States school system, I realized that no matter what, I wanted to conduct research in some capacity. Of course, when I thought about research, I almost exclusively thought about researching psychopathology. I gained an extreme interest in psychopathology in different cultural settings. However, as I transferred from my community college to a four-year R1 institution and finally applied to a lab, I found my passion not in traditional clinical research but in cognitive psychology and human factors. For almost three years now, I have been working in the same laboratory, looking at how to create better measures for language learning, implementing in my models typically left out factors such as immigration status, study methods, cultural influences, and motivation for learning a second language. Similarly, I am developing a program to help us tell whether someone is bilingual with a short recording. From a general population standpoint, these are indeed very interesting topics, but it may be hard to see what developing new measures of bilingualism is worth studying. I see factors from my own life missing in the literature. I come from a country where learning English is seen as a status symbol and sometimes one of the only reasons people get better paying jobs or even the opportunity to leave Venezuela; I learned English on a time crunch, in less than a year knowing that the situation in my country was very unstable and knowing that if I wanted to attend college here in the United States, I needed to speak the language. As a bilingual person, I not only navigate two different languages and cultural systems but also see the world differently and think about things differently than my monolingual peers and other bilinguals who learned under different conditions. Understanding bilingualism and the variables that lead to individuals becoming bilingual is key for instructional, legal, and social environments. It could create faster and cheaper methods to help language learners "test out" of a class or even identify weaknesses in one's grammar, pronunciation, or fluency; it could be used as a faster screening method in research that requires bilingual individuals, replacing the long surveys, interviews, and questionnaires for one few seconds or a couple of minutes audio. In time, I hope to also work on implementing such systems and measures of bilingualism into more practical research that could be used to change school curricula to better support bilingual studies. More recently, I have also become interested in psycholinguistics and neurolinguistics and have been thinking about how my current research interests not only serve to increase our understanding of how the human brain works but also can impact legislation, research environments, and education. Working on research that directly impacts bilinguals not only benefits a growing population of individuals but also supports immigrant communities that have to adapt to a new cultural context while also learning a new language or languages.

The smell of arepas in my house, the scent of cazón, bought at six in the morning when the shark was still moving and fighting against the fishing net and prepared by my dad on the same day. Voices saying, "¿Qué hubo?" around me, and the song of cuatro, maracas, and tambor dictating the rhythm of my soul along with those of symphonies with their violins and flutes and galerones with lyre and harp. Growing up in Venezuela, I was never forced to think about my heritage or identity as "Hispanic"; we were all Venezuelan: the Cantonese clerks are Venezuelan, the Haitian and Portuguese neighbors are equally Venezuelan, my grandfather, who moved from Greece by himself and married a guaiqueri woman was the most Venezuelan man my mom ever met. We proudly call Chinese and Middle Eastern food "Venezuelan fusions," and now, in other countries look for foreign restaurants with the flavors we grew up with. Venezuelan identity beautifully sees its people's diversity, welcomes them with open arms, regardless of whether them being immigrants or locals, and integrates their core values to create a colorful and diverse national identity we all equally claim and respect. Growing up, I took that unity for granted, and when I came to the United States in 2017, I realized that in this country and under this system, I was an ethnic group in the eyes of everyone. My mom and I were not Venezuelan but now had to choose "White" on an immigration form and mark that we were "Hispanic or Latino" below. The complexity of our indigenous, white, black, and Balkan heritage was deleted for the sake of simplicity, clumped with groups similarly unique, under a banner that also is misleading, as the labels we use do not take into account those who are raised under non-Hispanic or Latino traditions. Nonetheless, I had to learn to bear the label as a badge of pride. I was not only Venezuelan or Greek-Venezuelan anymore, and Hispanity grew on me as a secondary identity I now held. As I navigated school and community college, I realized that sometimes saying that I was Latina was more manageable than explaining my whole genealogy or culture, as one would do in Venezuela (A sort of "well, you see, my mom was born in this place but raised on this one, but her mother is from so and so, and her dad is from this other state, that extends for way too long), especially when dealing with the sort who think all that speaking Spanish equals being from Mexico or Spain. It was not until I moved by myself to complete my bachelor's degree that I started wearing the "Venezuelan" badge again. I am connecting with my roots and history in new ways and teaching my friends about our food, traditions, and diversity. I am no longer the silent sort who nods at offensive comments but the one who speaks out against them and takes them as a moment to educate with example and lead. My house is filled with people from all walks of life and ethnicities eating arepas, hallacas, tarkari, and asados I make. My Hispanic identity is intrinsically Venezuelan, and it helps me connect with the world around me through food, music, and unique experiences, both positive and negative, that have gotten me to this point. From the bad political trauma that led to me applying for asylum one day to the research, I write about and conduct, which includes Hispanic participants who were often overlooked in academia.

Coming to UCF as a psychology student, I thought that despite the broad diversity in the field, all of it dealt with individuals directly or research surrounding them. For me, even in academia, psychology dealt with the mind and the mind only; I never thought about how our minds influence our use of technology and how our interactions with machines can tell important things about human cognition, interacting and feeding off each other. Nonetheless, starting at a research laboratory based on cognitive psychology and human factors by merely chance and an idea soon evolved into a growing interest in technology and applications of emerging technologies for language learning research and research on aging and memory. As an immigrant, I am part of a very particular community with unique needs and considerations often overlooked by research and academia. When I first took cognitive psychology in my junior year, I noticed how the research methods that measured cognitive capabilities were not optimized for bilinguals and overlooked how potentially things like migratory status and immersion in different cultures might affect neuroplasticity, cognitive reserve, and performance. I initially approached my instructor with these concerns, and he heard me and validated them, inviting me to conduct an independent project in his laboratory. Over that semester, we worked on a proposal for a more comprehensive survey measuring bilingualism, adding questions about technology use and competency, planning that for a follow-up study, we could use this validated survey and fare it against an emerging technology in psychology: vocal biomarkers and vocal signature patterns. As I am writing this proposal, I have realized how integrating vocal biomarkers into mobile apps could be helpful for many reasons and how it could bring benefits for many branches of technology. In my area of research, the potential utilization of vocal biomarkers as a predictor of language dominance and bilingualism would allow language learning programs such as Duolingo to assess language proficiency in a very effective and cheap manner. It is, in fact quite easy to use platforms that collect vocal recordings to have them analyze and seek specific patterns in a person as they speak, and the program automatically transforms this data into information that professionals can analyze. Similarly, in the cognitive field, drawing relations to bilingualism and memory (most commonly in regard to Alzheimer's and dementia) is a popular idea that is part of the bigger research interests at the moment, and many of the gaps in this research can be filled with the work I am doing and interesting in continuing through academia and research. First, a survey like the one I already developed is pretty telling of fundamental facts about a study's participant, letting us draw conclusions about their confidence as a bilingual speaker and reflecting on how their experiences and learning curves reflect their self-reported proficiency. This research, which is subjective in nature, paired with vocal biomarkers for bilingualism and recently identified biomarkers for Alzheimer's would allow for diagnosing technologies in the form of apps where individuals can record themselves briefly speaking in both languages to determine whether the perceived symptoms of cognitive decay are delayed or affected by the second language. In synthesis, I want to work in the development of new technologies that benefit language learners and people who are at high risks of developing neurodegenerative conditions. These technologies would increase accessibility to some educational, medical and psychological resources, also reducing equipment costs, and letting rather underrepresented communities also have access to these resources.

I come from a culture where rice is plentiful and we depend on corn. Our European immigrants also brought a taste and tradition of pastries and sweets. I was raised around all these things, cherishing these foods and embracing them as part of my Greek-Venezuelan heritage, and that of the mix our country is. Nonetheless, when I turned 14 the doctors determined that for my help, I needed to stop eating those same things that connected me to my culture, as I was sensitive to gluten, rice, and corn, and left me somehow isolated. Nowadays my diet consists mainly of homemade gluten-free concoctions, as even commercial gluten-free products harm me, my skin swelling, getting red for days, and my stomach bloating. In Venezuela, finding alternatives was difficult, if not impossible, reducing my diet to mainly sweet potatoes, plantains, taro, and yuca at home. Still, leaving me watching as my friends and family had choices when we went out, they had the chance of trying new things, as I was relegated to the simplest or blandest dishes. When I moved to the United States, my options increased, and things such as the flours from keto and paleo became actual options for once, but I was still isolated from my own culture, now not only through gastronomy but also geographically. My mom multiple times has said that culture is only just nurtured and as long as we eat its good, but that ultimately erases the legacy and history told through our food, which in the case of Venezuela talks about colonialism, ancient indigenous traditions that persist, the flavors of the slaves brought over, and the intersection of all these flavors. In my case, it also reeks of Greek and Mediterranean wonders. I became deeply interested in the psychology of culture, and the effects food has on one's psyche. Although I am currently not doing any research in this field, it is on my plans either before I finish my undergraduate studies or for graduate school. I am especially interested in understanding the effects of certain foods on cognitive performance and the development of neurodegenerative diseases. Ultimately, this scholarship would ease the financial burden at least a little bit, by paying for one of my classes. Since I do not qualify for financial aid due to me not being a United States Resident or qualifying non-resident, and legislation changes in the state of Florida impeding me from accessing university-sponsored scholarships, I have decided to turn to private scholarships as a way to finance my education, as we are a low-income household, and my dad and my mom helping me pay for tuition and expenses every semester is not sustainable for much longer. Getting this scholarship means that my parents can either use at least a small part of the money from themselves, or that at the very least they can allocate that money to helping me pay for groceries, as buying my gluten-free and grain-free products sometimes mean a higher expense, or for me to pay my rent, as with my current job I am not able to pay for rent myself.

I was born in a city known as the City of Eternal Spring and raised by the waves on the Caribbean and the mountains of a tiny island. My parents taught me to dream about colors, music, and lyric, read books and encouraged me to play an instrument and paint. Art is a quintessential part of my being, in all of its expressions and iterations, and even when I might not do some of those forms of art, I still enjoy all expressions of dreams and creativity that we are capable of. Venezuelans might live in a constant and overwhelming ocean of difficulties and instability, yet thousands still find beauty in the sea of troubles, or express the ugliness of the violent reality and shift it to create a manifestation of it, haunting but beautiful. Being raised in such an environment, with parents who sought to encourage my creative interests from a young age allowed me to explore and vent. Ultimately, writing became my passion and is still something I do at night, when inspiration strikes, I tell the stories I did not see when growing up, about people like me and my family, tales of immigration, and allegories. In writing, I create worlds, craft cultures, and explore the depths of the human mind. I dream of publishing my books one day and sharing my stories with others, so people from around the world can enjoy what I have written, and so hopefully my writings reach someone out there that needs them. Writing has helped me get over hard times in my life, when I am by myself with my computer at night I get to pour my feelings into the keyboard and see them gain life through the screen. My stories reflect things I want to discuss and comment on troubles, dreams, and challenges. Writing is venting and dreaming. Writing has led to me making friends and joining amazing communities of like-minded individuals, such as the writing club in my current university and a previous board position as the president of an arts and literature student magazine, where I also had the honor to publish two of my short fiction narratives. Writing has also been an extremely useful hobby that has helped me develop my desired career as a psychology researcher and clinician. The skills I have developed through writing and my passion for literature have translated beautifully into the world of academic writing, which, as I prepare to write my first manuscript for an article and later down the road my Honors Thesis manuscript, have helped me shine through any challenges posed by those feared processes. Regardless of any career path I might choose, I see myself as an author, an artist whose words paint a picture for the imagination to preserve, a figment of eternity plastered in black ink over white paper, in the form of a wavy composition of paragraphs, irregular lengths and consistent tones. And I know that writing is a quintessential part of my being, shaping it to be what I need it to be: a tool to communicate, a bright canvas of ideas, a somber parade of thoughts, worlds created from nothing and raised from the void of imagination. Writing is ultimately my passion and driving force, in psychology, and my day-to-day life when I seek to relax.

Many books in the past have left a significant mark on me, and I have found that in different times of my life, different types of books resonate with me more or less. In Venezuela I gravitates towards adventure and escapism as a form of fleeing my dire reality, and now in the United States, I still read those stories, but they do not hold the same weight as they used to back then. Now I look for books that entertain me, but also that make me reflect, stories that also might showcase my identity and that I can personally relate to. In Isabel Ibañez's book "Woven in Moonlight" I found many of those things: a Latina main character in a world inspired by the likes of Incan and Spanish cultures, a universe filled with moonlight that gave its children wondrous powers, and soft earth protecting her followers with its own magic. Young adult literature tends to be frowned upon and downplayed, but it is so important for all generations. When well done, it is a formative piece for younger individuals, and this is the case with this book. The hopeful tones of the story and the promise of one's nation seeing a better tomorrow are beautiful. I related a lot to the story and this world she had created, where a bigoted person rose to power and alienated society, and in the characters I found people diverse and interesting. This book inspired me and made me dream of the tropical beauty of my native Venezuela, and the diversity of my own country. Ultimately, Woven in Moonlight was one of the books that made me retake my own writing projects and allow myself to be inspired by my culture and the things I love about it.

Talking about the many professional advantages of college is always necessary, but I think not many talk about how attending college has the impact of broadening one's horizons and making us more complex human beings. Should someone tell me that they do not want to go to college, I would listen to their reasons, and see how their decision could be changed so they are able to reconsider when they are ready to do so. I would talk not about classrooms and workload, but about the experiences, the people you meet and the skills you earn in those years of undergraduate studies. I would talk about my own experience as a recent immigrant in this country who for a while felt lost, but in college found a clear path to my dreams, about the clubs I joined in and participated in, both as a member and as in leadership positions, and how even when one's passions and interests might seem niche, you are bound to find at least one person willing to listen and talk to you for hours at a time. College is an amazing opportunity to expand one's mind and to learn and explore oneself and the others around us, its a chance to learn about different subjects and worldviews in a safe space and its a place where creativity and free thought are not only commonplace but encouraged.

I fondly remember the nights going to see the Guaraguao orchestra in Nueva Esparta perform and wishing to be like the violinists one day, and going with my dad to the small corner bookstore. Ever since I was a kid, art inspired me to move forward and dream of a better world, taking me to new highs, as a violinist, a watercolorist and a writer, and as I grew I saw those artistic expressions as symbols of hope in a country that promised nothing but uncertainty. In high school, my Spanish teacher, "profe" Carmen encouraged me to keep writing. She gave me valuable feedback on my creative endeavors and would discuss with me books we both had read. I wish to become a published author of fantasy and fiction novels narrating the lives of characters that look like me and the communities I grew up with, arts have the power to inspire and bring hope. I strive to create and publish stories with diverse character in which people can see themselves, to encourage them to dream and keep moving forward, so they know that they are not alone or isolated. In 2014 I joined my local chapter of the "Sistema de Orquestas" as a violinist. Despite how much I loved participating, I had no time to make up for the lost practice hours or to practice much when I was at home, causing me to get temporarily demoted from the Youth Orchestra to the Children's Orchestra at the age of 14, rendering me unable to participate in concerts or events until promoted again. This was a painful and frustrating moment to me, as I was so used to being the top student, the recognized one, but a valuable lesson in humility and accepting that I could not have expected different results if I had no time to practice, and from that day, I decided to organize my very disorganized schedule.

When thinking about solutions for individuals struggling with mental health, we focus on short-term solutions, and as someone who has lived with anxiety, I would sometimes feel as if the professionals I worked with did not see the bigger picture. A mind is as large and complex as the universe, inside it, biology, chemistry, physics and even for those who believe in it, religious and spiritual forces, come into play to create who we are. Sadly people will sometimes tend to one of those many infinite variables and overlook the importance of the rest. As someone who has been to psychologists and other mental health specialists before, and moreover, as someone pursuing a career in the mental health industry, I have seen a lot of flaws. Our system and society prefer some methods and ideas over others, instead of taking into consideration the many aspects. In a country as diverse as the United States, it is baffling how little understanding trained professionals are when working with people from different cultures as them. Too many times I have been told by friends that psychologists and psychiatrists fail to empathize or even comprehend their situations, which makes them less likely to continue looking for further assistance in the future. It is true that cultural ideas and expectations differ drastically between groups, but when it seems that the system overlooks vulnerable people such as immigrants and marginalized communities, there is clearly a problem. Professionals should educate themselves on how different cultures and values work if they wish to help more individuals. The integration of culture in clinical and medical settings should not e an afterthought but rather on the forefront of the fight for accessible mental health assistance.

Choosing a single book to talk about is something most avid readers fear, I have found that when you ask one about their favorite, they are most likely to give a list rather than just one book. The same thing happens to me: I have many books that have marked me as stayed with me through years, but the answer is always changing along with my preferences and experiences. Last year I became really interested about ancient history and literature, after watching some videos about Mesopotamia, I read the Epic of Gilgamesh and immediately found myself enchanted by it. First a Spanish edition, and then two distinct English editions. There is something about the story and the historical context of The Epic of Gilgamesh that captivates me; as someone who loves to study about the human mind and condition, and passionate about history and literature, the fact that this fragmented old story about king Gilgamesh and Enkidu feels so alive and vivid to this day is just beautiful. I read this book in two different languages, I read three translations that adapted and narrated the story differently and yet I could feel the sorrow of Gilgamesh after Enkidu died, the pleasure of the battle against Humbaba and just how this piece of art, the earliest piece of literature known to this day talks about the same experiences and simple pleasures we have nowadays. I usually read modern literature, but The Epic of Gilgamesh was a beautiful exception in my reading habits, one that reminded me that humans throughout time and cultures have always dreamed, hoped, loved, laughed and grieved. That it does not matter if we are separated by decades or eras, we feel and think similarly, and art can create a bridge connecting them to us.

I believe that I not only came to this country for a better life and opportunities but because there was a deeper purpose and reason. When I boarded that flight in 2017 that brought me and my mom to the United States I never imagined that so many things and experiences would change me so much for the better. As Venezuela disappeared in the evening sky I thought of who I wanted to be here, but neither did the stars above the plane nor the Caribbean sea below it hold answers for me. Immigrating was an isolating experience. I grew in a bubble made up of all the friends and family I had met all my life, close and safe from harm, and even though I was aware of the reality of the country and the fear for our lives and future always pushed me to want to leave, wanting something and getting it are two different things. Margarita island was a small place, and even when I was sheltered, everyone knew everyone and there were always things to do. In the United States, it was just me and my recently divorced mom. For almost two years we only had one another, her working for the first time since I was born, and me studying and trying to find my place in this country, holding to my values and my Venezuelan heritage as a banner of my character and identity. In Venezuela I was never allowed to be alone at home, robbers had gotten into the house way too many times throughout the years for my mom to want to risk my life. And I had grown paranoid and traumatized of being alone, even though I craved the silence and the peace of having oneself as a sole company. Robbers had tried to assault my mom and my baby cousin once when they found the two of them inside the house. They had poisoned our pets and threatened our safety. So when my mom started working and I was left alone at home, I stopped functioning. Fear so strong that paralyzed me, every sound and echo of a voice enough to make me jump and grab something to defend myself. It took me months and some talks with my therapist from Venezuela to understand that I could relax. Miami is a naturally diverse city, so it was no surprise that my high school´s student body was made up of mostly Latinos, and less surprising to find that there were a lot of Venezuelans, however, it scared me seeing how I was not accepted for not being into the same things as them. I was never an outcast in Venezuela, but I wasn't popular either, I was in between, but my classmates regarded me with love and respect as we had grown together, but here I was someone new, an outlier, and thus for a couple of months I was bullied by my Venezuelan classmates for not acting "Venezuelan enough", which for them was going to parties, drinking, being loud and proud of the bad things in the country. This hurt me deeply and made me doubt who I was as a Venezuelan, there was a gap of ideologies between me and them, and despite most of them being stellar students, their behaviors outside the classroom were deplorable. They claimed all these things were part of who we are as a culture, but I never connected to any of those aspects. So I ended up rejecting that part of me. When people asked where I came from I would say that Venezuela, but with shame and sadness. It has taken me a lot of introspection and time to understand that culture is not defined by trends but by the deeper inner fabrics that connect us all, so in the end, I have learned to embrace the good parts of our country and I speak loudly of my pride while being able to call out the bad things that happen and people do. When we moved, my mom explained to me what our migratory status was going to be, and I accepted it without understanding the inner workings. For the way she explained it and what we expected, asylum was a long process, being called for an interview after sending your case to immigration officers could take between months and years, and in the meantime, we would be stuck in this sort of legal limbo, where we could work and live here legally, but not leave the country. I was fine with the idea, I knew coming back to Venezuela was dangerous for the two of us. Nonetheless, now that I have entered college I get constantly frustrated because of it. I do not qualify for financial aid, so all my college costs come from scholarships, my dad´s occasional help, and my mom. Similarly, lots of scholarships, internships, and academic programs require their students to be permanent residents and citizens, thus many opportunities are kept away from me and others in similar situations. I make the best of it and understand that there are options, but in the last months as I prepare to transfer I find many opportunities locked away behind that single requirement I don't know-how will take me to achieve. The identity crisis, the mental health dwindling, and the lack of support groups for immigrants. The lack of resources available to help students in similar situations to mine is what is pushing me to pursue psychology. I want to be there for others as there was no one for me back then.

In 2017, amidst the ever growing political turmoil in Venezuela, my mom and me took the hard decision of leaving our nation to seek peace and a dignified life in the United States. We arrived and settled in Miami, the beautiful multicultural hub of Florida where one cannot set foot outside without hearing a Cuban laughing along with the Colombian, where "arepas" are not only the best way to start the day, but the source of one too many debates about their origin -I personally fall somewhere in between the two arguments about the iconic corn dough dish- and where Spanish and Spanglish are more natural to many than the widely spoken English. From the beginning I rejoiced and embraced in the complex chaos and beauty of the city: the multicultural aspect that expanded my worldview and shattered years of stereotypes, its horrible traffic full of people whose driving skills everyone doubts, the eccentric and the traditional. Despite the isolation that would overcome me from time to time, I worked hard, adapting to the new system, supporting my mom as her anxiety got worse and she entered into a depressive episode that would last until the end of our second year here. Nonetheless, beyond all that, feeling grateful of being here, knowing that I would take advantage of every opportunity that I would encounter was enough to counter the fear and doubt that would invade my mind when I least expected it.. We had sacrificed our short-lived comfort in a country where opportunities were reserved to the government elite, a place in which our safety was jeopardized by the criminals and the regime itself, being targets of persecution. In exchange, we got a new start and the chance of growing, something I could never have in Venezuela In high school I was first confused, the whole system alien to me, but in those first months when I was all by myself, I found a teacher willing to guide me and encourage me: Mrs. Reyes was my intensive reading teacher in sophomore year, I had arrived in March, almost ending the academic year and very insecure about my broken English -something I have learned to embrace just recently-, so I stood out the moment I entered any classroom, nonetheless Mrs. Reyes did not care. In class she would encourage me to talk, recommended me books and gave me interesting opinions about my reads at the moment. Later she would even nominate me as student of the month. In her class I felt valid and heard, and I would look forward to those hours in her classroom. It was not until junior year when I started meeting people, first a Dominican girl who would later become my best friend, and then Venezuelans, Cubans and Colombians with similar values and ideas about life, but whose experiences and personalities differed so much from one another. We were a small found family in a school full of those. We joined clubs, went out and did everything we could together, giving me for the first time in my life a feeling of belonging, as never I had such close friends before nor could I have done the things we did. Joining clubs and participating in my community slowly became a central part of what I liked doing. In Key Club and volunteering I understood what my dad always said: being an active member of one's community was fulfilling and beautiful. As this passion for service gained strength I also understood that I wanted to study psychology, and my life project was born. It was a call to serve the people I had spend the last years with, I want to guide and help immigrants like me, by empowering our communities through literature, mental health advocacy and research related to us. Being an immigrant has taught me about love, hard work, identity, sacrifice and many other things, and in my privileges regarding my migratory status I feel inclined to fight for those less fortunate as I am, use the tools and opportunities I can take to ensure others like me and in diverse situations can achieve their dreams and goals in life.

The birth of a child is often a motive of happiness and joy in a family. My birth was definitely no exception. As my family tells it, I was the first good thing to happen in at least fifteen years, after a series of events struck both maternal and paternal families. I was the first child born in my mother´s family in twenty years, the first one after both her parents had died when she was still a teenager leaving her to fend for herself and her siblings. My mother has always had a difficult relationship with herself, the second child in a family of four siblings, but the one that had to assume the role of caretaker soon after they found themselves as orphans, stubborn, and very private. For years she kept her feelings and emotions silenced, but after my birth, she was soon diagnosed with postpartum depression, that was a continued struggle that as she tells me now, was the darkest moment in her life, when the fear of being a new mom combined with that of failing me, and the pressure she had always had on her back. For years now she has fought with depression and other demons of her own: generalized anxiety disorder, body dysmorphia, and many other monsters I have faced myself as I become my own person. Her fight against mental illness and my own are the reasons I seek to pursue a career in psychology. She was an exception in our culture, she sought help and got it, but the reality is that many people in Hispanic countries are overlooked and ostracized by society. I want to bring awareness and educate our communities about it, and I want to become myself the inspiration for others to willingly seek help.

Being from a culture that values the social aspect of food and sharing, when I was diagnosed with intestinal permeability and pre-diagnosed with PCOS at fourteen, I knew that I would be forced to change some of my eating habits, which meant that up to a certain point it would culturally alienate me in Venezuela. Corn, one of the core ingredients used in my country was suddenly out of reach for me, as well as wheat, which can be considered a crucial part of many people´s diets, and even traditional replacements such as gluten free flours containing oats, rice, and tapioca, as they were also shown to affect my system. For years, I struggled to find a balance between what I should be eating versus what I wanted to eat and the problems living in a country where sometimes regular foods were scarce. Moving to the United States gave me more freedom and options, and as I learn about the environmental impact our actions and habits can have, I decided to take more active steps towards a definitive change in my life. In 2020, during the most restrictive months of the pandemic, I started cooking, looking for more environmentally friendly and healthier options for my diet, opening a new world of taste, creativity, and enjoyment. Moving towards a more plant-based diet with the occasional "range-free" chicken or wild-caught fish definitely has improved my health, helping me be at my ideal weight, and making me think outside the box when it comes to preparing foods. It also has made me share my passion with family and friends, and show them that food restrictions do not need to necessarily be prohibitive or boring. All these things have made me reach a point in my life where I think an integrative approach between psychology and nutrition is important, and one I definitely have considered when imagining my opportunities as a psychologist. Every day I ask myself how I can perfect my craft -for I see natural foods and cooking as the elements of this art-and educate others on the importance of consuming natural foods and the environmental impact our dietary decisions can have on our health and the world. There are a deep beauty and complexity in taking simple ingredients born and grown from the earth itself and transforming them into a meal we can share with those we love, a small detail that nourishes their bodies and souls in mere moments, sitting down to eat and enjoy the product of hard work and passion. Many cultures place significant values on food and the act of sitting together to enjoy it for a reason: the enjoyment of something made by someone we know and care for or ourselves is beautiful, and being capable of integrating natural resources and responsibly sourced ingredients into those moments is an invaluable experience. I believe that natural foods are not only a means towards a healthier lifestyle or to heal the environment from centuries of practices that have destroyed our ecosystems, they are also a reminder that sometimes one must take a step back and enjoy simple things, enjoying along with family and friends, as well as reflecting on all the work that goes into planting, harvesting, producing, raising and preparing the foods we have in our houses and grocery stores.