As a child, I was neglected. My mother had made some poor decisions, including teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcoholism, smoking issues, and became a victim of domestic and sexual violence. Throughout my childhood, I was merely surviving with my abusive family. We didn’t have the finances to buy new clothes, necessary supplies, and we were lucky to have food stamps. My father would take advantage of me and my mother sexually. It wasn’t long before I had to move homes because of it and at the age of 6, I was moved to my grandmother’s home, which unfortunately, also proved to be abusive. Without a second glance, I had been groomed and molested by my uncle until I was 12. It didn’t help that my grandmother blamed me, turned a blind eye, and was also physically abusive. I was going to school with blemished purple and green bruises lined against my arms and legs, thankful I hadn’t passed out during one of her spells. All of these traumatic experiences created horrible situations for me. I developed an eating disorder, scared to eat due to the consequences from my grandmother. Severe depression and anxiety rooted into my life, I became suicidal. On a fateful day in March, 2019, I was finally placed into a foster home. My entire life had been an obstacle. It was difficult to build myself back up again. But, throughout years of therapy and blind determination, I was finally able to bring myself back on track. Once I had been placed into my now forever home, I knew God had given me a second chance. My adoptive mother has been the most important factor of my story, for if it hadn’t been for her faith in me, I may not have even tried. I have been an honor roll student throughout the entirety of high school, participated in plenty of extracurricular activities, and my passion for illustration has blossomed. Now, I’m positive I will get a bachelor’s degree in studio arts, and follow up with an animation degree and career. Throughout all obstacles and adversities, I’ve learned to keep fighting, even when it doesn’t seem like it’s worth it. I never thought as a child I would have a future. I thought it would end soon and would live up to nothing. But, I kept fighting, because I knew all of the trauma wasn’t what I deserved. Without that fire, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I am a strong, confident, preserving woman, and I have learned my self worth.

The difficulty of knowing who you are as a person isn’t discussed enough. We all assume that you know who you are, as long as you recall your memories and your birthday. That’s not how I see it, however. If you know who you are, why should you struggle with appearances, or think of what you want for yourself. If you know who you are, you shouldn’t dwell on it for long. Yet, it seems as though no one truly knows, or cares to know, who they are truly. It is bold to assume someone’s thoughts, for they are a personal aspect. So, I’ll share mine. I’m a seventeen year old Hispanic woman, and I like art, music, and video games. I’ve suffered through depression, anxiety, sexual abuse, and finding a new family through foster care. I cry over dumb things, and I have a short temper. I can’t handle simple answers, nor overcomplicated ones. I struggle with social anxiety, yet I’m considered an extroverted person. All of this information for me, yet… I can’t put my finger on who I am. What makes me authentically me? It’s not that I’m a complicated person. It’s not my interests, or my experiences. Not my opinions, artistic pieces, my writing, grades, or friends. I suppose it’s the impact we have on others. It sounds contradictory, and I really do believe it is. My opinion doesn’t matter, so why should yours? But, anybody wouldn’t be somebody without someone. Families, friends, partners, relationships. It varies, but the whole aspect of being human is communicating with others. If communicating with people makes someone important, then I do mean something. To some, I’m a close friend who laughs too loud, and has a horrible sense of humor. But I love to listen as much as I love to talk. To others, I’m a relative. A sister, daughter, cousin, niece. I tend to spend too much time caring, or not caring enough, but I’ll still take responsibility and communicate. To most, I’m a stranger. A young girl, waiting outside in the rain for her mom to get out of Costco. To me, though, I’m just like the others. I have relationships, even if they are different from each other. I have rough days, and sometimes, I just hate the world. Everyone has those moments, however. We all mean something to someone, even if it’s not noticeable. What makes me authentic is my authenticity. I’ll clearly display my emotions, but I’ll make sure you have enough room to share yours too. I like to let go of everything, because bottling up your emotions can cause more damage than anything. I’m genuine. I hate being someone I’m not just to please others. I may seem silly, or dumb, but I’m enjoying my journey here, since all we’re doing is passing by. By being genuine, there is more likely a chance of creating more relationships, creating more impact for those around you. With this ability, it is safe to say I want to impact others as much as I can. As I pursue my dream career within animation, I will impact those with positivity, and spread awareness of just how true to yourself you can be. Even though everyone has a different experience, it doesn't mean you won’t affect others, with the good, and the bad.

Ever since I was young, I had always been drawn to anything artistically related. The effort, creativity, and challenges that art had to offer captivated me, inspiring the wish of an art focused career. The entirety of elementary school had been spent drawing on any piece of paper I could find. Desks, whiteboards, lined paper, even tests had artwork scribbled on the corners. Endless notebooks and loose printer paper would be covered with art. Drawing was all I thought about, until that fateful day within 7th grade. I found myself in the hands of depression, anxiety, and mourning the loss of family, more so than before. I was in the darkest and most difficult time of my life, I had to learn through many, draining, therapy sessions what was right, and undo what had become “normal” to me. My artistic abilities quickly became a coping mechanism, a distraction from the years of endless abuse and traumatic experiences. Through this, however, my passion slowed to a halt. My motivation, confidence and excitement evaporated. I didn’t know if I really wanted to pursue art, or pursue the career itself. Even when art felt like a chore, I persisted, not easily giving away the talent and skill built up over the course of a decade. Soon, animation had arisen within my advanced art class. I couldn’t stop thinking about how talented one could be, creating the illusion of movement through multiple drawings. Each individual key frame is hand-crafted to perfection, just to share a story for others. Learning about animation principles and constantly referring to examples, such as Disney, Pixar, and most well-known animation studios, I began to rebuild my lost passion. I found myself applying for Harmony Magnet Academy’s Performing Arts pathway, hoping for an animation class or similar opportunities. Once I joined the Knights of Harmony, I have spent the past three years in motion graphics, two in advanced placement. I had quickly developed my animation skills within just a few months, fueling my excitement and passion. Throughout my artist career, I have never wanted to give in to any obstacles, for I have always found myself creating. With clear progression and improvement over the years, I find new enthusiasm and hope every day for my chosen career, made just for me. By furthering my education, I am eagerly carving out my new path in the animation world, a future character animator.

From the beginning, me and my family have had plenty of difficulties when it comes to finances. As a low-income family, I never picked up on any “helpful” habits like saving money or filing taxes, besides avoiding temptation. “Hey mom, could I get that shirt? My friends at school wear them all the time!” I’d always get a chuckle in response. “You already have your clothes, mija. Be grateful.” My shirts were always one size too big or too small. I was lucky that my family had enough money for food on the table, even if it was just canned beans and white bread. My mother and father had fallen into horrible temptations themselves; alcohol, drugs, smoking, practically everything and anything harmful for both them and their family. As the middle child of three, it was difficult for me to step up. My older brother with Autism and my younger brother with ADHD and just a little one, it was difficult for them to comprehend what I could understand. So, I stepped up as “the older sister” as much as I could. We rarely got what we wanted or needed. Money was already difficult to handle, so it felt worse when we couldn’t have the nurturing we needed from our parents. I had different experiences than my brothers. I was taken advantage of sexually by my father, had to break up the drunken arguments between my parents, and hide with my brothers if it became out of hand. To say the least, it wasn’t safe. My mother made the right decision at the time and moved us to her mothers’, when I was just six years old. My grandmother proved to be a higher class in finances, which taught me plenty. Yes, temptation shouldn’t run you, but it’s okay to splurge if you spend your finances wisely. I learned about bills, taxes, off-brands, and saving. Middle-class felt predominantly better. I was finally eating, wearing clothes somewhat my size, and our family having money to spare. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t as financially aware at such a young age, however, ignorance is bliss, they say. But I have learned many valuable lessons. Yet, I learned these lessons with a harsh hand. My grandmother was physically abusive, and I was molested by my uncle the entirety of my years there. At just age thirteen, I was placed in a non-abusive foster home. It felt odd. My now adoptive mother tells me constantly not to worry about the finances, for it’s her job as a mother. It didn’t feel normal to me, this wasn’t my normal. To let someone decide if we should eat out today as a sweet treat, or what’s responsible financially. This new life also taught me a few things about finances. It’s okay to ask for help! Being raised in a stoic Mexican family proved to have its hardships, including not asking for any sort of assistance. But when it comes to money, I’ve learned that you’re not alone. Yes, buying the off-brands saves you a couple quarters, shopping sales gets you more things, and using your clothes until they’re you've outgrown them will stretch out the money. Not taught enough was that you don’t have to figure it out on your own. In the future, I won’t lock myself out of my family over money, and I’ll be sure to make aware of my issues. I’ve been told college is the most valuable lesson to be learned but I’ve also seen it within my new family; get a higher education to set myself up for the future, financially.

As a child, I was neglected. My mother had made some poor decisions, including teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcoholism, smoking issues, and soon became a victim of domestic and sexual violence. Throughout my childhood, I was having difficulty merely surviving with my abusive family. We didn’t have the finances to buy new clothes, necessary supplies, and we were lucky to even have food stamps. My father would take advantage of me and my mother sexually, ruining my life. It wasn’t long before I had to move homes. At the age of 6, I was moved to my grandmother’s home, which also proved to be abusive. I had been molested and groomed by my uncle until I was 12, without a second glance. It didn’t help that my grandmother also proved to be physically abusive. I had to go to school with blemished purple and green bruises lined against my arms and legs, thankful I hadn’t passed out through the beating. All of these traumatic experiences created horrible situations for me. I developed an eating disorder, scared to eat due to the consequences from my grandmother. Severe depression and anxiety rooted into my life, and it wasn’t long before I became suicidal. Yet, on a fateful day in March, 2019, I was finally placed into a foster home. My entire life had been an obstacle. It was difficult to build myself back up again. But, throughout years of therapy and blind determination, I was finally able to bring myself back on track. Once I had been placed into my now forever home, I knew God had given me a second chance. My adoptive mother has been the most important factor of my story, for if it hadn’t been her, I wouldn’t have the right to complete this scholarship. I have been an honor roll student throughout the entirety of high school, participated in plenty of extracurricular activities, and my passion for illustration and animation blossomed. Now, I am positive I will get a bachelor’s degree in studio arts, and follow up with an animation degree. Throughout all obstacles and adversities, I have learned to keep fighting, even when it doesn’t seem like it’s worth it. I never thought as a child I would have a future. I thought it would end soon, and I would live up to nothing. But, I kept fighting, because I knew it wasn’t what I deserved. Without that fire, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I am a strong, confident, preserving woman, and I have learned of my self worth.

As a child, I was neglected. My mother had made some poor decisions, including teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcoholism, smoking issues, and soon became a victim of domestic and sexual violence. Throughout my childhood, I was having difficulty merely surviving with my abusive family. We didn’t have the finances to buy new clothes, necessary supplies, and we were lucky to even have food stamps. My father would take advantage of me and my mother sexually, ruining my life. It wasn’t long before I had to move homes. At the age of 6, I was moved to my grandmother’s home, which also proved to be abusive. I had been molested and groomed by my uncle until I was 12, without a second glance. It didn’t help that my grandmother also proved to be physically abusive. I had to go to school with blemished purple and green bruises lined against my arms and legs, thankful I hadn’t passed out through the beating. All of these traumatic experiences created horrible situations for me. I developed an eating disorder, scared to eat due to the consequences from my grandmother. Severe depression and anxiety rooted into my life, and it wasn’t long before I became suicidal. Yet, on a fateful day in March, 2019, I was finally placed into a foster home. My entire life had been an obstacle. It was difficult to build myself back up again. But, throughout years of therapy and blind determination, I was finally able to bring myself back on track. Once I had been placed into my now forever home, I knew God had given me a second chance. My adoptive mother has been the most important factor of my story, for if it hadn’t been her, I wouldn’t have the right to complete this scholarship. I have been an honor roll student throughout the entirety of high school, participated in plenty of extracurricular activities, and my passion for illustration and animation blossomed. Now, I am positive I will get a bachelor’s degree in studio arts, and follow up with an animation degree. Like I had mentioned earlier, finances weren’t my family's strong suit. I had always been within a low-income family, even through foster care. My career and future should not be put on hold due to my small budget. That is why the Bright Lights Scholarship would set my starting point. I had never intended to be held back due to finances, and I know that every dollar counts. To pursue my dreams and follow my heart, the Bright Lights Scholarship will greatly assist my finances.

Art has always been an activity I’ve been dedicated to. I aspire to influence others to splay their emotions onto a blank canvas, and to enjoy the vibrant colors their life produces. I had a difficult time as a child overcoming many challenges by the hands of my abusive family, and it was draining to find something to pretend to enjoy. I had a hard time communicating with others my age, and didn’t enjoy the same things most children did. When I learned to create artwork, it instantly became my outlet for the negative thoughts and feelings I had bottled up quickly, and soon, it became my goal to pursue artwork in my career field. I began to find artwork within everything I consumed, including video games and animated movies. I found it easier to joyfully engage in other activities when drawing was involved, as I soon became interested in animation. I saw animation everywhere. In movies, short films, advertisements, PowerPoints, and so much more. I was ecstatic, finding handcrafted projects with an overwhelming amount of creativity, and I just had to participate. As soon as I entered high school, I began to dabble in other realms of artwork, besides doodling. I worked with watercolor, acrylic, alcohol markers, color pencils, pastels, clay, hand-crafting gifts and more. I am never tired of art, and that’s how it will stay. I joined the motion graphics class, and quickly developed skills for animation, finding myself in the advanced class junior year. Now, as a senior, it is my decision to join the animation career field, whether it be storyboarding, character animation, background designing, or special effects, I will try everything and anything available to earn my bachelors degree and engage in the animation department. All throughout my artwork, I have created pieces that display a strong emotion I had. Whether that be irritation, sadness, joy, confusion, or pure tranquility, my audience is sure to feel something when they see my piece. It might not be the reaction intended, but if I could make a person feel something when looking at my artwork, I truly believe that it is enough to inspire people. If I could give someone hope, just as I had at a young age, and get someone to feel something new, or renew a previous emotion, that’s all I aim for. Artwork is to be shared, and so is creativity. To share emotions with one another is to create art.

Only through a small portion of my life, I have dedicated my education to a higher standard. That introduction may seem off putting, however, let me elucidate. Starting at the age of three, I had a difficult time with my family and how I was treated. My education had been discarded, and my priority was to maintain a somewhat stable life. Yet, my life until twelve years old was anything but stable. I had been taken advantage of and abused from my closest relatives, deducting my want for a higher education. I had developed high social anxiety, clinical depression, anorexia, and much, much more. Thankfully, I was given a second chance within the foster care system. I had been taken in by my now adoptive mother, Lisa Chavez. She showed me through care and affection that my life had much more potential than what it was made out to be. I was just finishing middle school, which gave me just enough time to turn out my dreadful schooling advancements to high achievements. I constantly went to tutoring to sharpen my woeful skills in mathematics and literature analysis, and quickly elevated my grade point average. I took great care in participating in extracurricular activities to blossom enjoyment in my once dull life, making connections to others while finding my passion. Perhaps my previous life set me for my career, for I was astonished by the artistic community at a young age. I was invested within music, visual arts, and performing arts for the entirety of my middle school experience, which led me to my impactful decision of joining my high school; Harmony Magnet Academy. HMA prides itself on our two pathways; the Academy of Engineering and the Academy of Performing Arts. I never thought twice of my decision of joining the APA pathway, nor have I regretted my now chosen path. I aspire to become a visual artist, specifically within the animation realm. I will study at one of the Universities of California and earn a bachelor's degree within studio arts, possibly transferring to my dream college, the California Institute of the Arts, to pursue character animation. However, I cannot give up on my dream now, for the challenge has barely begun. With the difficulty of being accepted into a highly perceived college, and being part of a financially low income family, I will have my challenges. I have worked harder than most to build my life back up, brick by brick, learning to become an independent, ambitious and strong woman. I do not take my education lightly, and dreams are my reality. Only through hard work will I pursue what I want, which is why I take pride in my achievements. Informing anyone of my achievements is a reminder of what I had to go through at a young age. Instead of embracing the woes forced upon me, I wear it as a badge of determination. I had many opportunities to give up, but I am resilient. And I will stay resilient until proven otherwise.

My dearest mother, Eva Centeno, passed away March 22nd, 2023. It was a confusing relationship, due to our hardships and mistakes in our time together. At a young age, my mother was stuck in an abusive relationship with my father, ranging from physical abuse, to alcoholism and drug usage. It was a difficult time for Eva, and her children. From a daughter's perspective, I'd assume the instinctual action would be to protect your children. Yet, she found it difficult to choose her children or her boyfriend. I don't hate her for it, but it was frustrating nonetheless. As I was 3 years old, she made the decision to pass me and my younger brother Elijah to her mother. However, my grandmother proved to be just as toxic as my father. Angered by her difficult experiences as a young woman, my grandmother was a hardened soul, viewing lessons to be learned only through a thorough beating. For years, I endured much abuse from most of my close family, being saved by the foster system at age 13. I had conflicting emotions towards my biological mother. I hadn't seen her for almost half my life, yet, I missed her with every cell of my body. Living without my mother was depressing, especially when I hadn't seen her for ten years. Soon, as time progressed through the foster care system, there was a glimmer of hope. At age 15, I would be able to connect with Eva through writing letters and eventual phone calls. I would finally learn of my mother! What her favorite color was, how she made it through high school, if she missed me. For a blissful three months, I thought I would have her back. A single phone call, autumn of 2022 was the last I'd hear of her voice. My mother told me that she was proud of me for staying here, for not giving into the hardships we've both endured. She told me she loved me. I don't remember if I had said it back. A warm spring day in March, me and my younger brother were enjoying ice cream. Abruptly, my now adoptive mother parked the car, unsure how to break the news. I remember that day so vividly, a joyous day that was soured by devastation I couldn't bear. I would never see my mother again. Eva had died due to cardiac arrest, acute respiratory failure, and lupus pneumonitis, my sophomore year of high school. Altogether, my experience had affected me clearly throughout middle school. I was depressed, anxious, and had developed an eating disorder. I never thought I would be good enough to continue with life, so I had given up. Yet, as soon as I thought it would be over, I was pulled out of the abuse and given a fresh start. I began working harder than I ever had before. With the death of Eva, it had given me an opposite effect than what most expected. Yes, I was overwhelmed and grieving, but all I could think of was how she said she was proud of me, for not giving up. I love my mother, and I will pursue my dream, never giving up. Eva Centeno is my reason to continue and love myself just as much as I loved her.

Starting the year of 2022, I was invited personally by the coach of Strathmore High to join the girls tennis team. I was just 15, shy and nervous. I had a lack of confidence and had no idea how to become a leader. With past traumas and anxiety, I found it hard to join a team sport. I had never felt the need to be supported by anyone besides myself. Yet, in the blistering heat of June, I joined conditioning for the 2022 tennis season. Almost immediately, I was welcomed with open arms by the number one Varsity player. She was sweet, confident, and strong. Not once had I felt more comfortable to play a sport with anyone. With her mother as the coach, I had quickly developed skills while becoming more comfortable with the sport. As soon as I joined tennis, I felt my anxiety wither away, and I became more confident. I had easily become addicted to playing tennis, working hard after practice hours. I had plenty of friends, and I had never felt so happy before. There were multiple occasions where I felt like I wasn't working hard enough, causing me to feel hatred towards myself. I pushed myself harder to grow, yet continued to compare myself to others who were better than me. I disregarded their advantages and the amount of time I've had to develop. Through these experiences, however, I learned that I should stop comparing, and appreciate how far I've come after only a few months. At the end of the season, I had been placed on the eighth position for Varsity. It was a challenge to show my potential, but it raised my resistance and motivation to achieve my goals. Through many tournaments and challenges, the Strathmore High girls tennis team made it first for league within my senior year, with me as the sixth Varsity player. Through tennis, I learned how to adapt to challenging events, depend on others, and lead others to break through their personal challenges, just as I had. As I prepare for college, I have never felt more anxious. But, I constantly remind myself that, just like tennis, opportunities will begin with discomfort. Through college, I will continue to embrace my love for tennis, look for opportunities, be my own leader, never stop growing, and challenge myself to go outside of my comfort zone, for those are the true opportunities I look for.

My dearest mother, Eva Centeno, passed March 22nd, 2023. It was a confusing relationship, due to our hardships and mistakes in our time together. At a young age, my mother was stuck in an abusive relationship with my father, ranging from physical abuse, to alcoholism and drug usage. It was a difficult time for Eva, and her children. From a daughters prospective, I'd assume the instinctual action would be to protect your children. Yet, she found it difficult to choose her children or her boyfriend. I don't hate her for it, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Eventually, as I was 3 years old, she made the decision to pass me and my younger brother Elijah to her mother. However, my grandmother proved to be just as toxic as my father. Angered by her difficult experiences as a young woman, my grandmother was a hardened soul, viewing lessons to be learned only through a thorough beating. For years, I endured much abuse from most of my close family, being saved by the foster system at age 13. I had conflicting emotions towards my biological mother. I hadn't seen her for almost half my life, yet, I missed her with every cell of my body. Living without my mother was depressing, especially when I hadn't seen her for ten years. Soon, as time progressed through the foster care system, there was a glimmer of hope. At age 15, I would be able to connect with Eva through writing letters and eventual phone calls. I would finally learn of my mother! What her favorite color was, how she made it through high school, if she missed me. For a blissful three months, I thought I would have her back. A single phone call, autumn of 2022 was the last I'd hear of her voice. My mother told me that she was proud of me for staying here, for not giving into the hardships we've both endured. She told me she loved me. I don't remember if I had said it back. A warm spring day in March, me and my younger brother we're enjoying ice cream. Abruptly, my now adoptive mother parked the car, unsure how to break the news. I remember that day so vividly, a joyous day that was soured by devastation I couldn't bare. I would never see my mother again. Eva had died due to cardiac arrest, acute respiratory failure, and lupus pneumonitis, my sophomore year of high school. Altogether, my experience had affected me clearly throughout middle school. I was depressed, anxious, and had developed and eating disorder. I never thought I would be good enough to continue with life, so I had given up. Yet, as soon as I thought it would be over, I was pulled out of the abuse and given a fresh start. I began working harder than I ever had before. With the death of Eva, it had given me an opposite effect than what most expected. Yes, I was overwhelmed and grieving, but all I could think of was how she said she was proud of me, for not giving up. I love my mother, and I will pursue my dream, never giving up. Eva Centeno is my reason to continue and love myself just as much as I loved her.