Sometimes life shifts in an instant, and the things that once felt steady suddenly feel out of reach. I learned this when I tore my ACL and meniscus during a soccer game at only sixteen years old. One moment I was sprinting down the field, and the next, part of my identity was gone. Soccer had been more than a sport to me. Losing it left me feeling isolated and searching for purpose. Instead of letting that injury define me, I learned to redefine being part of a team and captain. I cheered from the sidelines, mentored younger players, and stayed committed even when I could not play. This taught me that being part of a team does not always mean being on the field. Sometimes leadership simply means showing up for others. Years earlier, my family faced something more profound: the passing of my younger brother Jackson, born with heart and brain defects. His life lasted only minutes, yet his memory lives on through family traditions and quiet moments of reflection. My parents, grandparents, and friends became a source of strength. In their embrace, I learned that community has the power to keep us moving forward. Jackson’s short life gave me a voice and a purpose. I want to stand up for those with disabilities. Healing often comes through love and service. During my recovery, I volunteered with Special Stars and Junior Firebirds, coaching children with disabilities and special needs. At first, I thought I would be helping the kids build confidence through sports. What I did not expect was how much they would teach me. Many faced challenges far greater than mine, yet their joy, determination, and courage inspired me daily. Watching them fall and try again reminded me that strength is not about avoiding hardship but about support and resilience. These experiences shaped my understanding of advocacy. It is not just about speaking for others. It is about listening, empowering, and helping people discover their own strength. Volunteering transformed my personal pain into purpose, showing me that community impact and personal growth are deeply connected. I have also learned that joy does not come only from winning games or reaching milestones. It comes from the little moments like laughing at practice, helping a younger teammate, or sharing at the dinner table. These experiences with both family and community have shaped how I understand community. My academic path in pre-law will give me the tools to turn this passion into action. Combined with the lessons I have learned so far, it will prepare me for a career in law. Through these experiences, I have developed communication, leadership, and problem-solving skills that I will carry forward into my academic and professional life I want to focus on disability rights, education, and healthcare access, working to ensure that all people are treated with dignity and fairness.

When my brother Jackson entered the world, he was already leaving it. His heart beat for only a few minutes, yet those brief moments altered the course of my life. Jackson was born with multiple brain defects, and although he never had the chance to grow, his life left me with a purpose. My youngest brother Jackson passed away a few years ago. Until October 13, 2015, I had never experienced or understood grief. That morning, we woke up early to go to the hospital, but instead of the excitement of meeting my brother, I was filled with worry and nerves. Jackson’s little life had not developed as it should, and though it was time to meet him, we already knew the heartbreak that awaited. The grief we felt wasn’t just about his passing, it stretched into the past and the future. We mourned not only his final breath but also the months leading up to that moment when we were told he wouldn’t develop properly. Along with that came the painful realization that all our dreams of park days, board games, and birthday celebrations would never come to be. It was an unbelievably hard day for me and my family. Although our time with him was brief it was full of love. Love for Jackson and also love for each other, from the comforting hug of my parents, to the support of my grandparents, and friends' condolence cards. In the embrace of those who cared for me, I found not only comfort but also the courage to continue forward. Although the pain is still present, all of these relationships helped me heal during the bereavement process. I want to be that love and comfort when others need support. Jackson's brief life instilled a passion for advocating for individuals with disabilities. Witnessing the challenges they face has ignited my desire to ensure all voices are heard and represented. I find meaning by volunteering with youth in programs like Special Stars and Create for Kids, which transformed my perspective on resilience and the importance of service. Special Stars engages children with special needs in developing soccer skills. I coached them through drills, offering guidance and encouragement. Watching these children experience the joy of learning new skills despite their challenges is humbling. I also enjoy thinking critically and constructing solid arguments, a skill I am working on in school. This passion aligns seamlessly with a career in law, where the ability to present clear, persuasive cases is crucial. I hope to use this skill to uplift and protect others. I plan to pursue a law degree, focusing on public interest law or civil rights, empowering myself with the knowledge to navigate and advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves. I will apply for internships and volunteer opportunities that provide practical experience in legal advocacy, especially in supporting children and families facing challenges. My choice to pursue a career in government and law is personal. I hope to challenge injustices, ensuring fairness, especially those facing the greatest challenges. Jackson’s memory and the lessons I’ve learned through Special Stars and other volunteer experiences inspire me to fight for a world where every child can thrive.