In the K–12 system, many young musicians are unfairly labeled or excluded simply for being a "band kid." I experienced this firsthand through snide remarks and dismissive attitudes. So when I was elected president of my high school’s instrumental music program, I saw more than just a title—I saw an opportunity to foster a more welcoming, supportive community. I centered my leadership on transparency and inclusivity—qualities that had been missing and were sorely needed. By introducing small but meaningful changes, like a suggestion box, I made it easier for everyone to have a voice. With each new idea, my focus was always on creating a space where people felt safe expressing themselves, both musically and personally. What mattered most to me was reaching out to those who struggled to find connection. Whether someone was dealing with challenges at home or feeling isolated among peers, I made it a priority to listen without judgment. It meant the world to see those same students later finding joy—whether in rehearsal, at social events, or simply sharing a laugh with new friends. Those quiet moments of impact were what defined leadership for me. Taking on this role pushed me beyond my comfort zone, but it taught me the importance of standing by my values and lifting others in the process. Although my term as president will come to a close along with graduation, the values of the role will stay with me for the rest of my life. Whether it be in my future as an engineer or in another leadership position, upholding a kind and welcoming atmosphere will be my utmost priority. As for the remaining days in my term, I plan to support the new incoming president and help her adjust to the mercurial nature of her role. Music should be a source of joy, not stress or shame, and I hope that during my time as president, I helped make others feel proud, not just to be in band, but to be themselves.

Growing up, Lolo and Lola’s house was like my second home. I spent lazy summer days there trying to sleep in the scorching hot den with the sweet relief of the fan when it happened to oscillate by. I played basketball in the cemented garden with multitudes of Lola’s plants lining the area. Lolo played his bandurria and I took reading and writing lessons with Lola, sounding out “ah, eh, ee, oh, ooh” to memorize the vowels. That quaint little house near the foot of the Burbank hills was, in essence, my childhood. During this time, I felt definitively Filipino. I lived off of sinigang and I eternally smelled like cooking oil and patis. And though I did not notice then, my parents told me that I had a pretty heavy accent. My culture filled my everyday life and I felt secure; however, as life began to get busier, I started to bleed red instead of grease from Lola’s lumpia. I saw my grandparents less every week and I lost my accent. Tagalog became difficult to understand and the feeling of “being Filipino” slowly lost its touch. Fortunately, my upbringing was not all lost to me. I continued to enjoy the occasional visits to my grandparents' house and Lola and Lolo’s teachings backed my schooling. All of it was still there, yet it felt like trying to see through a frosted window. However, in the summer of 2023, the warm rays of the homeland shined brightly through this fog. For a month, I traveled up and down the Philippines visiting family and experiencing what was only described to me in stories. My family and I visited Zamboanga, where my mom was from, Cebu, El Nido, and Manila. I ate amazing food and saw famous monuments. To say it was just a great trip would be an understatement. It gave me perspective on where I came from and why my relatives always preach about how they miss home. This trip reminded me of what it was like to be Filipino again. When I returned to the US, I found myself missing the Philippines like I had lived there my whole life. Though, as I walked the streets of my hometown in sunny old California, I realized just how privileged I am to enjoy my life. I wasn’t a struggling child who lived in a shanty, nor was I required to swim in polluted waters to secure dinner for myself. It turns out that the most important thing that I gained from my trip to the Philippines was motivation. Seeing the trash-ridden alleyways and the plumes of garbage fires, I felt a call to action. I wanted to find ways to help improve the lives of those wonderful people and bring back the beauty in the country that I had come to adore. Harnessing this motivation, and combining it with my passion for STEM, I aim to make my impact through Environmental/Mechanical Engineering. With my passion, I want to improve air quality in underdeveloped countries, like the Philippines, and find new ways to cleanse our oceans. The vibrant culture of the Philippines is what makes it one of the most amazing countries in the world. Not only this, but the people who uphold it are among the kindest and most compassionate people I have ever met. Therefore, it is only right that I do my part. Not just as a person, but as a Filipino. A Filipino with a dream to keep the air smelling of good food and the oceans clear as a glass mirror.

Growing up in Southern California meant that air quality warnings, smog, and a burning smell were commonplace. Bad air quality affected my mother and me since we both suffered from chronic asthma. Many people suffer from respiratory-related illnesses, and air pollution is the leading cause. Polluted air and water spewing from urban jungles disrupt natural habitats like wetland marshes, which are supposed to defend against such pollutants. The destruction wrought by humans on this beautiful planet have inspired me to pursue solutions to air and marine pollution through environmental engineering. I hope to be on the forefront of sustainability practices. Whether it be on the local level or on a global scale, environmental engineers can innovate in ways that were never thought of previously. In a time of conflict in climate efforts, engineers are a necessary advocate. Nevertheless, engineers are only one piece in a much larger puzzle. Time is running out to address carbon emissions, and everybody can contribute in their own way. By choosing to walk instead of drive or choosing to turn off the air conditioning for a couple hours, anyone can make an impact. Much like the “boiling frog syndrome,” every second we fail to act exponentially worsens the problem. Many countries ignore the rising global temperature and cities continue to pollute our air. Our own country is one of the leading instigators in this worldwide problem after our government decided to drop out of the Paris Climate Accord. Therefore, collaboration between engineers and citizens will be a crucial member in the quest for a greener future. Every one of us plays a part in healing our planet, and with the gracious assistance of this scholarship, I too am ready to commit to mine.