The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes eagerly searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion, I wonder what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother which introduced the addition of my grandparents taking part as co-parents in my upbringing. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. At all of the important moments of my life, I could always count on her to be there to cheer me on. My educational upbringing was no different. As I have continued along my educational path, I have come to the stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. This has been in harsh contrast to what I wanted to believe as a child. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of his life. But, alas, I have navigated my way through the ebbs and flows of life with only a single source of guidance as opposed to two. When other kids had both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I only had one. When other kids had two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I only had one. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every stage of life I plan to pass through. As I walked across the stage at my high school graduation, the absence of my father was felt, but the pain I have felt in years past was not present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my educational experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my own solo, one note at a time.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes eagerly searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion, I wonder what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother which introduced the addition of my grandparents taking part as co-parents in my upbringing. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. At all of the important moments of my life, I could always count on her to be there to cheer me on. My educational upbringing was no different. As I have continued along my educational path, I have come to the stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. This has been in harsh contrast to what I wanted to believe as a child. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of his life. But, alas, I have navigated my way through the ebbs and flows of life with only a single source of guidance as opposed to two. When other kids had both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I only had one. When other kids had two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I only had one. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every stage of life I plan to pass through. As I walked across the stage at my high school graduation, the absence of my father was felt, but the pain I have felt in years past was not present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my educational experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my own solo, one note at a time.

My first concert was a horrific experience and that was the topic of the prompt I will tell you about it, but I will also share with you my favorite concert memory. My first concert was Clay Walker at some dive bar (yes, I was underage and my mom had to pay extra to allow me to go in) in Corpus Christi, Texas. It. Was. Awful. The stage was super tiny and there were hundreds of people there, squeezed into this outside barn/bar situation. It was so hot, everyone was sweaty and uncomfortable as we had to stand for what seemed like eternity to wait for Clay Walker to make his appearance. Left and right people were fainting and being dragged out of the area to avoid being stepped on. Once Clay Walker started the concert, things were great; however, at some point he started throwing merchandise into the crowd. My mom reached out to get a black tank top that was thrown and another woman lunged and scratched my mother’s hand in attempt to grab the shirt from her grasp. To end the night, we decided to travel the three hours back home after the concert and we got pulled over not once, but twice! The first time we got a warning for driving on the left side of the highway (mind you, it was one in the morning and the highway was deserted) and not ten minutes later we were pulled over again by another state trooper for a broken tailgate light which they let us go because the light that was broken is not a required working light for our state. Needless to say, we have not been to another Clay Walker concert since. On the other hand, my favorite concert was a spur of the moment trip planned by my dad who is not a “fly by the seat of our pants” kind of guy. On a Friday afternoon in July of 2021, my dad sent out a group text asking if anyone was interested in going to see Green Day, Fall Out Boy and Weezer’s Hella Mega Tour in Arlington, Texas….the next day! We live on the opposite side of the state, which would make it a 10 hour drive there. Of course we all said yes and so tickets were purchased and hotel arrangements were made. When my dad got out of work at 7am the next morning, we loaded up in our van and played “Beat the GPS” as we sped through Texas to arrive in Arlington on time. We pulled into our hotel at 4:40pm, quickly unloaded our van, cleaned up and headed to the Globe Life Field and saw the most fantastic concert I have seen to date. The atmosphere was electric! My mom and I danced and sang in our row all night to all of our favorite songs. The most memorable part was when an emotional Billie Armstrong of Green Day spoke to the crowd and said, "Take a look around you. This is human contact. We cannot be locked up anymore. We need to be together.” That resonated with me because I started my high school journey during the pandemic, and as of July 2021, I had been learning remotely for a year and a half, no contact with friends or teachers, no extracurricular activities, no contact with the outside world. This was not just a concert, it was an interaction with humanity and it healed a part of my soul that had been lonely during this time. It was an experience I will never forget.

My name is Mia Ramirez and I am a sophomore at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. I am a vocal performance student at the UTRGV School of Music and concurrently studying in the Rafael and Carmen Guerra Honors College. During my freshman year I was the Drum Major for our inaugural UTRGV Marching Band. It was an honor to lead a great group of musicians and participate in parades and showcase our talent during our local high schools UIL Pigskin Competition. When marching season ended, I competed with the Vaquero Indoor Winds Band as a flutist. I had the opportunity to travel all over the United States, competing in various tournaments and concluding our season with a 3rd place at Worlds in Dayton, Ohio. I served as an ambassador for the School of Music and volunteered my time giving tours of the department to incoming students. As a freshman, I was a member of the University Choir and performed concerts for our school and community. In the spring, I was afforded a wonderful opportunity to sing the theme song for a documentary, directed by Jeff Oppenheim and music director, Michael Orland for a short documentary about the welfare of displaced children through forced migration. This documentary is slated to premiere at the Arigatou International Global Forum in Abu Dhabi in November of 2024. My summers are spent volunteering my time as an intern for the Weslaco High School Panther Corps during their summer band sessions. I helped direct the flute section and assisted with choreography and technical aspects of their half time performance. My sophomore year will be spent as a 2nd soprano in the UTRGV Chamber Choir, and I plan on competing for a second season with the Vaquero Indoor Winds Band. I have always been fascinated by music, and I have admired composers and songwriters since I was young. I plan to graduate with a vocal performance major at UTRGV in May of 2027 and further my education with a major in music composition in graduate school so that I may be able to inspire and captivate an audience with the music I write and perform. Concentrating on music composition will enhance my knowledge of music theory and score assembly which will provide the structure I need to write music and provide it to orchestras, symphonies and choirs. My goal for the future is to create and supply music to a variety of productions and become a well-known composer.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion wondering what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out a little differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother and forced her to ask for help. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. I could always count on my number one supporter to be there to cheer me on. My high school experience is no different to the matter. Throughout my life, I have come to the harsh yet stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of my life. When other kids have both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I will only have one. When other kids have two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I will have one. When I walk across the stage to receive my diploma, I will only hear the cheers of adoration from one parent while others will have two. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every late-night study session I have tossed her way, every evening band practice she attends and every stage of life I plan to pass through. I am sure as I walk across the stage at graduation, the absence of my father will be felt, but the pain I have felt in years past will not be present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my high school experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. No matter what obstacles come my way, I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my solo, one note at a time.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes eagerly searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. Their legacy. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion wondering what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out a little differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother and forced her to ask for help. The phrase, “It takes a village to raise a child” was evident in my life with the addition of my grandparents taking part as co-parents in my upbringing; a wish I’m sure my mother never had dreamt upon. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. At all of the birthdays, dance recitals, award ceremonies, and competitions I could always count on my number one supporter to be there to cheer me on. My high school experience is no different to the matter. As I have continued along my educational pathway, I have come to the harsh yet stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. This has been in harsh contrast to what I wanted to believe as a child. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping and yearning that I would be enough for him to be a part of my life. But, alas, I have navigated my way through the ebbs and flows of life with only a single source of advice and information as opposed to two. When other kids have both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I will only have one. When other kids have two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I will have one. When I walk across the stage to receive my diploma, I will only hear the cheers of adoration from one parent while others will have two. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every late-night study session I have tossed her way, every evening band practice she attends and every stage of life I plan to pass through. I am sure as I walk across the stage at graduation, the absence of my father will be felt, but the pain I have felt in years past will not be present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my high school experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. No matter what obstacles come my way, I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my own solo, one note at a time.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion wondering what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out a little differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother and forced her to ask for help. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. I could always count on my number one supporter to be there to cheer me on. My high school experience is no different to the matter. Throughout my life, I have come to the harsh yet stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of my life. When other kids have both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I will only have one. When other kids have two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I will have one. When I walk across the stage to receive my diploma, I will only hear the cheers of adoration from one parent while others will have two. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every late-night study session I have tossed her way, every evening band practice she attends and every stage of life I plan to pass through. I am sure as I walk across the stage at graduation, the absence of my father will be felt, but the pain I have felt in years past will not be present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my high school experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. No matter what obstacles come my way, I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my solo, one note at a time.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion wondering what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out a little differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother and forced her to ask for help. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. I could always count on my number one supporter to be there to cheer me on. My high school experience is no different to the matter. Throughout my life, I have come to the harsh yet stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of my life. When other kids have both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I will only have one. When other kids have two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I will have one. When I walk across the stage to receive my diploma, I will only hear the cheers of adoration from one parent while others will have two. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every late-night study session I have tossed her way, every evening band practice she attends and every stage of life I plan to pass through. I am sure as I walk across the stage at graduation, the absence of my father will be felt, but the pain I have felt in years past will not be present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my high school experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. No matter what obstacles come my way, I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my solo, one note at a time.

The bright lights fixated upon me as I marched to my opening position of the show. I see the instruments reflect beams of light that lay like a blanket over the monstrous crowd that had gathered in the stadium stands. My eyes searched the labyrinth of individuals for recognizable faces. In the symphony of cheers and whistles, I can hear the parents of other band members, football players, cheerleaders and the lot shout beautiful duets in support of their offspring. The soothing harmonies almost bring a smile to my face until I spot my mother in the crowd, singing a solo she had written just for me. I stare as she waves and claps in a joyous motion wondering what her song would have sounded like with a second voice. I knew from a very young age that my life would play out a little differently than other children's. As an infant, my father chose another path for his life, one that did not include me or my mother. His absence was felt early on in my childhood when the stress of single parenthood overwhelmed my mother and forced her to ask for help. Being a single mother did not equate to an absence of her own. I could always count on my number one supporter to be there to cheer me on. My high school experience is no different to the matter. Throughout my life, I have come to the harsh yet stark realization that my father was not meant to be in my life as a contributing member. I had dreams of him coming for me as I waited with bated breath, hoping that I would be enough for him to be a part of my life. When other kids have both parents walking them down the red asphalt sidelines on senior night, I will only have one. When other kids have two sets of flashes aimed at them as they head out to their prom, I will have one. When I walk across the stage to receive my diploma, I will only hear the cheers of adoration from one parent while others will have two. Being parentally handicapped has never deterred me from my willingness to succeed in life. My mother has taught me to be an independent person and that I am perfectly capable of handling difficult situations by myself. I see her uplifting words reflect upon every assignment I have ever submitted, every recital I’ve ever performed in, and every medal or trophy I have ever received. I know she will be by my side through every late-night study session I have tossed her way, every evening band practice she attends and every stage of life I plan to pass through. I am sure as I walk across the stage at graduation, the absence of my father will be felt, but the pain I have felt in years past will not be present. As I have grown, I have learned that allowing the pain of disappointment to consume my life is a choice, and I chose not to let the absence of my father break me down. I choose to have my high school experience be as memorable and enjoyable as possible. I have accomplished many things throughout my life despite his absence, and I will continue to achieve great things despite his absence. No matter what obstacles come my way, I realize that the missing piece to the puzzle in my life has no effect on my confidence and willingness to succeed and that I am composing my solo, one note at a time.

I view integrity as being brave enough to do the right thing, even if the result is not what you were hoping for. As a student, I have had to maintain integrity throughout many aspects of high school. When I was a freshman Future Farmers of America student, I entered rabbits in our local stock show. Ahead of me in line was a child we knew who was waiting to enter his rabbits as well. As the child and his family were waiting, they noticed their rabbits had ear mites, which is a disqualifying factor. So the father grabbed a pocket knife and cut the mites out of the ear. The child told the judge that the rabbit got into a fight and that is why the ear was bleeding. I knew they were lying but stock shows can be a “dog eat dog” competition with the phrase “If you’re not cheating, you’re not winning” being thrown around. All of a sudden I froze. I had forgotten to check my rabbits for ear mites. When I looked in their ears, sure enough, there they were. I looked at my parents for direction and they told me “It is what it is, no turning back now.” So I continued through the entry process and the judge saw the mites on my rabbit’s ears. He took out a huge black Sharpie marker and drew three black X’s on the backs of each of my rabbits. They all were disqualified. I knew I had made a huge error by not checking their ears. The next day was the show day and I went to support my friends from the stands. The child who cut the mites out of their rabbit’s ears competed. In the end, I do not remember what place that child got, but I do remember his lack of integrity in the sport of animal showing. W. Clemet Stone said it best when he said, “Have the courage to face the truth. Do the right thing because it is right. These are the magic keys to living your life with integrity.”

At the age of 15 I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder called Hashimotos. The way I describe my disease is that my body thinks that my thyroid is harmful so it makes antibodies to kill my thyroid. My thyroid is doing everything in its power to do its job by providing me with hormones but it also has to defend itself. Just like the USS Enterprise travels through space seeking out new life and new civilizations, once attacked its shields can only protect it for so long. With the constant attack of antibodies, over time my thyroid's shields will no longer protect it and my thyroid will cease to function. Thank heavens for modern medicine! I am on a daily hormone replacement therapy called levothyroxine. I take it fasting every morning before I go to school. I make sure I take my medication with me wherever I go. Even when my high school marching band and I traveled to Disney World to march down Main Street I took my medication every morning while away. I know the consequences of not taking my medication. I become lethargic, everything slows down, and my body wants to sleep more than usual. I will have trouble with my stomach leading to constipation, my hair will fall out more and my skin becomes very dry. However, because I am so compliant with my medication I only have to see my endocrinologist once every 6 months and I have to have annual ultrasounds of my thyroid to check for masses which can lead to cancer. After seeing my endocrinologist this summer, we have already started talking about how we will coordinate my visits once I go off to college. I plan on studying music and history and I would love to perform in a Broadway orchestra one day. I have never let my autoimmune disorder slow me down. I chose every day to take my medication as directed so that I will have a great day. I am blessed to have discovered my disease while I was young and had the support of my family and endocrinologist to teach me how to take care of myself and the importance of maintaining my disease. I know that Hashimotos is not a death sentence, but it does take dedication, and sometimes a little planning, to make sure that I take the best care of myself that I can. I will never let my disease, or anything else in life, hinder me from reaching my dreams.

Applying to scholarships has become a part time job for my mom and I. My mom and I have been talking about my senior year of high school and these "getting college ready" moments since I was young. See, my mother went to college but had no financial assistance to help her through. My grandparents never went to college so they did not know how to help her pay for her education. My mom had to get loans and once she graduated she had to pay not only her school loans back, she had to pay for me! My mother vowed that she would never let her children take out a loan to pay for their education and she continues with this promise to this day. Don't get her wrong, she has been saving money for my college tuition since the day I was born, but the reality of the situation is that college is expensive. There are so many more costs associated with the college process than any university will tell you. So in her spare time my mom raids through Google searches of scholarships and complies lists of relevant ones in her green spiral note book for me to complete. Thank heavens that my school load this year is less demanding and I have time to devote to this process. I know she has my best interest at heart and wants me to succeed without the worry of school loan debt. I really appreciate the hard work she has put into not only these extensive scholarship searches, but my education as well. Together, we will continue to search for scholarships and apply for as many as we can. We know that we will not be awarded all of them, but it does not hurt to try. So wish me luck as we continue to surf the world wide web in the search for scholarship opportunities.

At the age of 15 I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder called Hashimotos. The way I describe my disease is that my body thinks that my thyroid is harmful so it makes antibodies to kill my thyroid. My thyroid is doing everything in its power to do its job by providing me with hormones but it also has to defend itself. Just like the USS Enterprise travels through space seeking out new life and new civilizations, once attacked its shields can only protect it so long. With the constant attack of antibodies, over time my thyroid's shields will no longer protect it and my thyroid will cease to function. Thank heavens for modern medicine! I am on a daily hormone replacement therapy called levothyroxine. I take it fasting every morning before I go to school. I make sure I take my medication with me wherever I go. Even when my high school marching band and I traveled to Disney World to march down Main Street I took my medication every morning while away. I know the consequences of not taking my medication. I become lethargic, everything slows down, and my body wants to sleep more than usual. I will have trouble with stomach leading to constipation, my hair will fall out more and my skin becomes very dry. However, because I am so compliant with my medication I only have to see my endocrinologist once every 6 months and I have to have annual ultrasounds of my thyroid to check for masses which can lead to cancer. After seeing my endocrinologist this summer, we have already started talking about how we will coordinate my visits once I go off to college. I plan on studying music and history and I would love to perform in a Broadway orchestra one day. I have never let my autoimmune disorder slow me down. I chose every day to take my medication as directed so that I will have a great day. I am blessed to have discovered my disease while I was young and had the support of my family and endocrinologist to teach me how to take care of myself and the importance of maintaining my disease. I know that Hashimotos is not a death sentence, but it does take dedication, and sometimes a little planning, to make sure that I take the best care of myself that I can. I will never let my disease, or anything else in life, hinder me from reaching my dreams.

Not All Superheroes Wear Capes At the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, my parents added a new piece of clothing to their scrubs and gear, their invisible superhero capes. While no one could see these capes, I knew they were there. While other parents were afforded the opportunity to stay at home to work and tend to their children, my parents, mom, a nurse practitioner, and dad, a paramedic, embarked on their next mission to save the world. In order to be there for their patients and their community, my parents had to make a lot of sacrifices, as all superheroes do. They sacrificed their time with me in order to work longer and extra shifts, covering for their coworkers affected by the virus. They sacrificed their own health by working face to-face with those with active infections. I can remember my dad's radio repeatedly belting out tones for another call for a person short of breath with an active infection. Every night he would come home and recount story after story of opening up a person's home only to find the corpse of someone who had passed away due to this virus. He even had to hang up the cape of a fellow paramedic who lost his life due to the COVID-19 virus. My mother's ritual of decontamination after her shift to make sure she did not bring the virus home to us left her skin red, cracked and bleeding, and her hair dry and falling out from all of the washing. I would consider all healthcare workers, including my parents, to be community superheroes. Though they sacrificed so much, in the mist of all the tragedy, they created a new hopeful chapter in the lives of those they served. In addition to serving the community's medical needs, they educate the community about the ways to prevent COVID-19 transmission and how to perform self-care for those less fortunate than themselves. They taught families how to quarantine to prevent the spread of COVID-19 in multi-family homes; they educated mothers on how to give their children medication to lower fevers and coughs associated with the virus; they advised families on what vitamins to take to increase their immunity to the virus; they encouraged all their patients to get vaccinated and humbly continued to serve those who did not. Even though I am not venturing down the same journey as my parents, I will use this scholarship money to have a positive impact on my community like my parents have. I would like to be a historian so that I may record events like the pandemic and highlight those who wear invisible capes and have made the ultimate sacrifice for their community by serving others. "Every step toward a goal requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals." - Martin Luther King, Jr.