The first time I realized I loved math, I was arguing with a cupcake. It was a chocolate cupcake at a bake sale, sitting under a sign that said, “One for $2 or three for $5.” Most people saw dessert. I saw a challenge. Was three for five dollars actually a better deal? How much money would we make if everyone bought the bundle? Could we raise enough before lunch ended? Suddenly, that cupcake was not just a cupcake. It was a tiny math problem with frosting. That is what I love about math. It sneaks into ordinary life and turns it into a puzzle. Math is in the grocery store when I compare prices, in my calendar when I plan my week, in a recipe when I double the ingredients, and in a budget when I decide what I can afford. It is not trapped inside a textbook. It is everywhere, quietly asking, “Can you solve this?” I also love math because it gives the world structure. When life feels messy, math is steady. Two plus two does not change because I am tired, stressed, or having a bad day. Even when a problem is difficult, I know there is a way through it. I may have to erase, restart, rethink, or ask for help, but math teaches me not to give up when the answer is not obvious. Math also feels creative to me. Some people think it is only about memorizing formulas, but I see it more like solving a mystery. I can draw a picture, make a chart, write an equation, or look for a pattern. Every problem feels like a locked door, and math gives me different keys to try. Math matters because it connects to almost every future I can imagine. In business, it helps with budgets, prices, and profit. In technology, it helps with data and design. In service, it helps show which solutions are actually working. Numbers can tell stories, reveal needs, and measure progress. That is why I love math. It makes the world less confusing, more organized, and more interesting. And sometimes, it even helps me decide whether buying three cupcakes is a smart financial decision.

My grandma’s budget system looks like something from a detective movie. She has envelopes tucked in drawers, labeled in neat handwriting, and guarded like they contain national secrets. One says “Needs.” Another says “Savings.” A third says “Giving.” The last one, my personal favorite, says “Fun,” although Grandma believes “fun” should be funded responsibly and never emotionally. The first time she showed me her envelope system, I thought it was a little old-fashioned. I had apps, online banking, and a debit card. Grandma had paper envelopes and a look that said, “Do not even think about borrowing from the grocery envelope for iced coffee.” To her, every dollar had a job before it ever left her hand. My mom later explained why Grandma was so serious about money. After my grandpa died, she had to watch every dollar because he did not have life insurance. She was grieving, but she was also suddenly responsible for making sure the bills were paid, groceries were bought, and emergencies did not become disasters. Her envelopes were not just a quirky habit. They were survival, discipline, and peace of mind. That changed how I saw her system. Grandma was not trying to make money boring. She was teaching me that money decisions made today can protect you tomorrow. Her “Needs” envelope paid for things that had to come first, like food, gas, and bills. Her “Savings” envelope was for future problems and future dreams. Her “Giving” envelope reminded me that even when money is tight, generosity still matters. Her “Fun” envelope proved that budgeting does not mean never enjoying life. It just means enjoying life without creating a financial mess afterward. I started using my own version with money I earned from babysitting, tutoring, and part-time work. At first, I wanted to spend almost all of it immediately. There is something dangerous about getting paid and suddenly believing every restaurant, store, and online cart is calling your name. But dividing my money helped me pause. I could see how much I actually had for spending after I saved, gave, and covered what I needed. Now I want to modernize Grandma’s envelopes. I still like the idea of giving every dollar a purpose, but I also want to use budgeting apps, automatic savings, and credit education. I want to learn how credit scores work before I ever depend on one. I want to understand interest rates, loans, insurance, and emergency funds so I do not repeat mistakes that hurt families for years. Most of all, I want to make sure that when I have a family one day, they are protected, even if life changes suddenly. Grandma’s envelopes may not look fancy, but they taught me something powerful: financial confidence can start with simple habits. I plan to use what I learn to pay for college wisely, avoid unnecessary debt, build credit carefully, and eventually teach younger students that money does not have to be scary. Sometimes the best financial education does not come from a textbook. Sometimes it comes from a grandmother, four envelopes, and a very serious warning about iced coffee.

A legacy is not built all at once. Sometimes it begins with a paintbrush, a rake, a handwritten encouragement card, or teenagers giving up part of their summer to serve someone else. For me, the idea of legacy became real through Teens on Mission, a local service initiative I created after my family could not afford for me to attend an international mission trip. At first, I was disappointed. I had imagined traveling, serving with friends, and being part of something meaningful. But when that opportunity disappeared, I had to ask myself an honest question: Did I want to go because it was exciting, or did I truly want to help people? That question changed me. I realized I did not have to cross an ocean to serve. There were people in need in my own community, including elderly residents, struggling families, children, nonprofit organizations, and veterans who had given so much to others. Instead of giving up on service, I created Teens on Mission and invited other girls to join me. I planned meals, housing, schedules, budgets, transportation, and volunteer sites. We served at nursing homes, food pantries, pregnancy centers, veterans’ homes, donation centers, and community organizations. We wrote encouragement cards, made care packages, organized supplies, helped with yard work, assisted elderly couples, and spent time with people who needed hope. That experience showed me the legacy I want to create. I learned that service is not just about completing a task. It is about restoring dignity. A clean yard, an organized room, a repaired flower bed, or a conversation at the right time can remind someone they are seen, valued, and not forgotten. In the future, I hope to create a nonprofit business that helps disabled veterans with organization projects inside their homes and landscaping tasks outside. Many veterans have served our country with courage, but after returning home, some face physical limitations, emotional struggles, or overwhelming household needs. My nonprofit would bring volunteers, students, churches, and community members together to serve them in practical ways. We could organize garages, clear clutter, plant flowers, mow lawns, build simple outdoor spaces, clean storage areas, and make homes feel peaceful and manageable again. I want this business to be more than a service project. I want it to become a movement of gratitude. Veterans should not have to feel alone after sacrificing for others. My goal is to create a system where people in the community can use their time, energy, and talents to meet real needs. Some volunteers may be good at landscaping. Others may be organized, encouraging, creative, or simply willing to work hard. I believe everyone has a light to shine, and leadership means helping people discover where their light can make the greatest difference. Teens on Mission taught me that I shine my light best when I help others shine theirs. I may not always be the loudest person in the room, but I notice needs, build plans, invite people, and keep going when things are difficult. I have learned that faith is not only something I speak about. It is something I live out through action, compassion, and service. The legacy I want to leave is not my name on a building or a title beside my name. I want my legacy to be homes made lighter, veterans reminded they are appreciated, young people inspired to serve, and communities strengthened by love in action. If one closed door could lead to Teens on Mission, I believe one willing heart can open many more. My goal is to spend my life opening those doors for others.

Service has shaped my leadership, faith, and understanding of community. Over the years, I have served through my church, school, and local organizations. I have completed 609 volunteer service hours and received the Presidential Volunteer Service Award in 2022, 2023, and 2025. While those awards mean a lot to me, my most meaningful service experience did not begin with recognition. It began with disappointment. For years, I participated in mission trips through my church, and I was excited to serve internationally in 2024. Then my father lost his job after his company filed for bankruptcy, and my family could no longer afford the trip. I was disappointed. I had looked forward to traveling, serving with friends, and being part of something bigger than myself. But when that door closed, I had to ask myself an honest question: Why did I really want to go? Was it for the trip and the people I would be with, or because I truly wanted to help? That question changed my perspective. I realized service is not limited to another country or a planned mission trip. There were people in need right in my own community. Instead of stepping back, I created a local mission experience called Teens on Mission. I reached out to other girls who wanted to serve, including some who could not afford a traditional mission trip. I organized housing, planned meals around food allergies, created a budget, collected money, contacted nonprofits, and scheduled two volunteer opportunities each day. I also planned evening activities so we could relax, laugh, and build friendships after long days of serving. During summer 2024, Teens on Mission served in many places, including nursing homes, food pantries, pregnancy crisis centers, veterans’ homes, clothing donation centers, nonprofit warehouses, and community centers. We wrote encouragement cards, made care packages, helped with canned food drives, assisted elderly couples with yard work and household projects, and played games with nursing home residents. Some days were tiring, and planning the week required responsibility. I had to communicate clearly, solve problems, manage details, and make sure everyone felt included and safe. Each challenge taught me that leadership is not about being in charge. It is about caring enough to serve first. The best part was seeing how service changed us. We started as a group of girls, but by the end, we had become a team. We met people whose lives were very different from ours, and we saw how much kindness, conversation, and simple acts of help can matter. I learned that many people want to make a difference. Sometimes they are just waiting for someone to take the first step. Because of the success of the first summer, I led Teens on Mission again in 2025, and we are planning to serve again in July 2026. What began as a financial setback became a continuing ministry. This experience taught me that service is not about where you go. It is about the heart you bring. It showed me that leaders notice needs, invite others in, and create opportunities for people to use their gifts. Most importantly, it strengthened my faith by reminding me that God can use disappointment for a greater purpose. Because of my ADHD and addiction to technology, I currently do not use any social media accounts.

Physicians make life-saving decisions every day, often under intense time pressure and with incomplete information. That reality is what first drew me toward the intersection of medicine and technology. I plan to pursue a degree focused on biomedical technology and the human body, with the goal of working in medical device sales. I want to be the person in the operating room who not only understands the technology, but can help physicians use it in ways that truly save lives. My interest in this field did not begin in a hospital. It started in a debate round. In my speech and debate club, I researched a Team Policy case arguing that hospitals receiving federal funding should be required to integrate AI-driven intraoperative imaging and automated digital safety checklists into surgical procedures. At first, my goal was simple. I wanted to win the round. I looked for weaknesses in the argument and prepared to argue against it. But the more I researched, the harder that became. I read about preventable surgical errors that still happen today. Wrong-site surgeries. Missed complications. Tiny details in patient data that get overlooked in high-pressure situations. Then I learned how emerging technologies can catch those details. AI systems can analyze patterns in patient data that humans might miss. Advanced imaging can give surgeons clearer, real-time guidance. Digital checklists can ensure that critical steps are never skipped, even in chaotic environments. At some point, my mindset shifted. I stopped trying to disprove the case and started believing in it. That moment changed how I see my future. I realized that I do not just want to work in healthcare. I want to be part of creating and delivering the technology that makes healthcare safer and smarter. That is why I am passionate about studying biomedical technology. It combines science, engineering, and an understanding of the human body in a way that has direct, measurable impact on people’s lives. Medical device sales may seem like an unusual path for someone passionate about STEM, but to me it is exactly where I belong. The role requires deep technical knowledge. I need to understand how devices work, how they interact with the body, and what makes them effective or risky in different situations. More importantly, I need to translate that knowledge into clear, honest communication for physicians who are making critical decisions in real time. I am especially drawn to the operating room environment. It is fast-paced and high-stakes. There is no room for confusion or guesswork. If a device can help a surgeon identify a hidden complication before it becomes life-threatening, then understanding and explaining that technology matters. It is not just about selling a product. It is about being part of a system that prevents errors before they happen. My passion for this field is also shaped by my commitment to service. Throughout high school, I have completed over 600 hours of volunteer work and earned two Presidential Volunteer Service Awards. These experiences were not about checking a box. They taught me to show up consistently and to care about people even when it is inconvenient. On mission trips across Texas and Louisiana, I saw how limited access to resources affects families. In Belize, I saw children walking barefoot to school and playing soccer while visibly malnourished. Those moments were difficult, but they gave me clarity. Access to proper healthcare and technology should not depend on where someone is born. One experience in particular pushed me to take initiative. When my father lost his job and I could no longer attend a planned mission trip, I decided not to let that stop me from serving. I created a local initiative called Teens on Mission. I organized ten friends, built a full schedule, and coordinated a week of service in our community. We worked in nursing homes, supported disabled veterans, sorted donations at a nonprofit warehouse, and wrote encouragement cards for a pregnancy center. That experience showed me that impact does not require perfect circumstances. It requires action. These experiences connect directly to my future in biomedical technology and medical devices. I want to help bring advanced, life-saving tools to the places that need them most. I want to ensure that physicians have access to the best possible information and equipment, whether they are in a major hospital or an underserved community. I am passionate about this degree because it gives me the knowledge and skills to be part of that change. It allows me to combine my interest in technology, my respect for medicine, and my commitment to service into one meaningful path. I do not just want to witness progress in healthcare. I want to contribute to it in a way that is practical, human, and lasting. In the end, what motivates me is simple. If better technology can prevent even one surgical error or save even one life, then it is worth pursuing with everything I have.

Giving back did not begin for me with a planned opportunity. It began with disappointment, and it became a defining part of who I am. I am a dual credit student and high school senior from Flower Mound, Texas, with a 4.0 GPA and 28 hours of completed college credit. This fall, I will attend Baylor University to study Professional Sales, where I hope to grow in communication, leadership, and problem solving. Through speech and debate, I have learned how to think critically and speak with clarity, but more importantly, I have learned how to listen. That skill has shaped the way I serve others. Service has been a consistent part of my life. I have participated in mission trips to Waco, South Dallas, New Orleans, and Belize, and I have served in my church since sixth grade. I lead small groups in children’s ministry, help run lights and sound for youth services, and guide elementary students during our summer Cross Training program. These experiences taught me that serving is not about recognition. It is about showing up with a willing heart. My understanding of service grew deeper when my dad lost his job after his company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Because of our situation, I could not participate in another mission trip abroad. I was disappointed, but it forced me to ask myself why I wanted to serve. Was it about going somewhere new, or was it about meeting needs wherever I was? That question changed everything. After hearing about a woman in a nursing home who rarely had visitors, I could not ignore the need right in front of me. I decided to gather a group of friends to visit, but the idea quickly grew. I began reaching out to local organizations and planning a full week of service. That is how I started Teens on Mission. In the summer of 2024, I organized a week long local mission experience. I recruited ten girls, coordinated with nonprofit organizations, and scheduled two service opportunities each day. We played games with nursing home residents, distributed food at pantries, served veterans, wrote encouragement cards, and organized donations. In the evenings, we rested, reflected, and built friendships rooted in faith and purpose. That week showed me what it means to live out Proverbs 3:27. When I had the ability to act, I chose to act. Service became more than something I participated in. It became something I led and shared with others. Because of its impact, we have committed to continuing Teens on Mission in future summers and even during college. If awarded this scholarship, I would use it to support my education at Baylor University and continue creating opportunities to serve. My goal is to pursue a career in medical device sales, where I can work alongside physicians and surgical teams to improve patient outcomes. I want to use my education not only to succeed professionally, but to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives. Whether that is through my career, my church, or programs like Teens on Mission, I want to keep using what I have been given to serve others well. I have learned that service is not about perfect circumstances. It is about a willing heart and a readiness to act. This scholarship would allow me to continue living out that calling, using my education and experiences to give back and invest in others.

Giving back did not begin for me with a planned opportunity. It began with disappointment, and it became a calling to live a life of service. For years, service has been part of my everyday life. I have participated in mission trips to Waco, South Dallas, New Orleans, and Belize, and I have served in my church since sixth grade. Whether leading small groups in children’s ministry, running lights and sound for youth services, or guiding elementary students during our weeklong Cross Training program, I learned that service is not just something you do; it is something you become. It is a posture of humility, faith, and a willingness to show up for others. That understanding deepened when my dad lost his job after his company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Opportunities I had taken for granted, like traveling for mission work, were no longer possible. I was disappointed, but more than that, I was challenged. I had to ask myself why I wanted to serve. Was it about the experience, or was it truly about people? That question reshaped me. One evening, I listened as a family friend shared how lonely her mother was in a nursing home. I could not shake the thought of someone going an entire day without meaningful conversation. In that moment, service became personal. It was no longer about where I could go, but about who needed to be seen and cared for right where I was. The next day, I decided to act. What began as a simple idea to visit a nursing home with friends grew into something greater. I began reaching out to local organizations and inviting others to join me. That is how I founded Teens on Mission. In the summer of 2024, I organized a week-long local service initiative. I recruited ten girls, coordinated with nonprofit organizations, and planned two service opportunities each day. We played games with nursing home residents, distributed food, served veterans, wrote encouragement cards, and organized donations. In the evenings, we rested, reflected, and built a community rooted in faith. What made that week meaningful was not just what we did, but how we did it, together and with compassion. It created a ripple effect. My peers asked to continue the program, and we have committed to carrying Teens on Mission into future summers and into our college years. Through this experience, I have learned that embodying a life of service means recognizing needs, responding with intention, and inviting others to serve alongside you. It reflects the kind of life Mrs. Marion Makins lived, grounded in faith, education, and a commitment to uplifting others. Like her, I believe education is a powerful tool to serve and strengthen communities. As I pursue my education, I plan to expand the impact of service in my community. I want to continue developing initiatives like Teens on Mission and create opportunities for others to serve locally. I hope to better understand community needs and organize resources effectively. My goal is to turn knowledge into action, equipping myself and others to serve with greater wisdom and compassion. Mrs. Makins’ legacy reflects the life I am striving to live. What began as disappointment became a defining lesson: service is a choice to see, to care, and to act. With the support of this scholarship, I will continue to grow in that calling and use my education to serve others.

Allow me to take you on my journey from a child who struggled in school to someone guided by faith and purpose toward higher education. I will never forget that closet. I was seven years old, sitting on the floor in my mom’s closet, staring at ten simple math problems. She thought the quiet would help me focus. Instead, I melted down. I screamed, tore my paper to shreds, and pulled clothes off the hangers. I wanted to concentrate, but my brain would not let me. Because of ADHD, school felt overwhelming and exhausting. I hated math. I hated reading. Honestly, I hated everything about school. It felt like a prison. By third grade, I had already decided that I was “bad at school” and did not want to try anymore. In the seventh grade, everything began to change. One Sunday after church, Ms. Edmonson, my youth group leader, listened to my frustration as I compared myself to students who seemed to learn easily. Then she told me something I will never forget. “Mikayla, life is a matter of perspective. Having ADHD is hard, but it does not define you. You can see it as a limitation, or you can count it as a blessing. It gives you strengths and talents that others do not have.” That conversation changed my focus. Instead of fighting my ADHD, I began to see it differently. My mind moves quickly. I have energy. I love to talk. Those traits once frustrated me, but they also give me the ability to think fast, communicate clearly, and connect with people. Around that same time, my mom enrolled me in a competitive speech and debate league. Since the seventh grade, I have competed in the STOA homeschool national speech and debate league, which has about 2,300 homeschool students across 17 states. I have delivered over 600 speeches and competed in over 350 debate rounds. I am also currently nationally ranked in the Top 3%. Speech and debate gave my mind direction. Instead of feeling embarrassed by how much I talked, I learned to organize my thoughts and use my voice with purpose. I thrived in this environment. The girl who once could not finish her homework on time was now delivering five-minute Impromptu speeches with only two minutes of prep time. In May 2025, I won the national championship in Humorous Interpretation. More than trophies, speech and debate taught me discipline. Preparing speeches requires hours of research, writing, and practice. Debate demands careful listening, logical thinking, and insightful questioning. Those skills pushed me academically and showed me that education opens doors to influence and leadership. Faith plays a central role in that journey. 1 Peter 3:15 is my North Star. “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” My faith gives purpose to my education. I want to be a knowledgeable, respectful, and caring communicator who can share the hope I have in Christ and encourage others. Faith has also shaped how I serve. I have been on summer mission trips to Waco, New Orleans, South Dallas, and Belize. When my church planned another international trip, my family could not afford it after my dad became unemployed. Instead of staying home, I gathered ten friends and started a week-long service project called Teens on Mission. We served each day at local nonprofits, nursing homes, and food pantries. That experience showed me how communication and leadership can create opportunities to serve others. Looking ahead, I plan to pursue a degree in Professional Sales and enter the medical device industry. I want to work alongside physicians in operating rooms, helping provide tools that improve patient outcomes and save lives. My faith continues to guide that path, reminding me that education is not only about personal success, but about serving others well. The girl who once sat on a closet floor believing she was bad at school now sees education as an opportunity to grow, lead, and serve. That girl also scored 1400 on the SAT. Faith, mentors like Ms. Edmonson, and the discipline of speech and debate pushed me to pursue higher education and use my voice with purpose. I do not have any social media accounts. After researching, writing, and delivering a competitive speech on the dangers of social media for teenagers, I chose not to open any accounts.

I have competed in the STOA homeschool national speech and debate league since the seventh grade. I have participated in forty-three tournaments and kept all 1,462 judge feedback forms. I have delivered more than 600 speeches and debated in over 350 rounds across Team Policy, Parliamentary, and Lincoln Douglas formats. I'm also currently nationally ranked. Those numbers matter, but they are not the reason I compete. 1 Peter 3:15 is my North Star and guides my faith and work in speech and debate: “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” I want to be a knowledgeable, respectful, and caring communicator so that I am ready to share the Gospel and the hope that is within me when a door of opportunity opens. That’s not just a saying for this essay. That’s my mission. Tell others about Jesus. Speech trains my preparation in practical ways. In Impromptu speaking, I walk into a room, choose one of three topics, prepare for two minutes, and give a five-minute speech. I must organize my thoughts quickly, present ideas clearly, and connect to my audience. Mars Hill speech examines culture through Scripture. Debate teaches another skill that matters when sharing faith. I have to listen carefully, analyze their logic, ask questions to clarify, and then present evidence that persuades the judge without attacking the person. One of my most important lessons I learned in speech began with failure. At my first tournament of the 2022–23 season, the pairings for the next round were posted on a twenty-by-thirty foot projection screen in the school cafeteria. In view of hundreds of teammates, friends, and competitors, my name was scratched. My performance was ruled too similar to one performed years earlier. I was very embarrassed, but somehow I kept it together and finished competing. Amazingly, my partner and I actually won the Duo Interpretation speech at that tournament. But for Humorous Interpretation, I chose to not compete for the rest of the year. And the next year. I just gave up. That summer, I was playing golf with my dad. I had a very bad hole and he asked me if I was going to quit. Because I had competed as a junior golfer when I was young, I reminded him of something he used to tell me: just because of one bad hole, you don’t give up. That night, I connected the dots, and I decided to compete in Humorous Interpretation next year. Three months later, I won first place in Humorous Interpretation at the same tournament I was disqualified from two years earlier. Then I won the next tournament. Six months later at the National Invitational Tournament, I won the National Championship in Humorous Interpretation speech. I learned that failure is only when you quit trying. Speech and debate has also shaped how I serve others. I have been on mission trips to Waco, New Orleans, South Dallas, and Belize. When my church planned another international trip, my family could not afford it after my dad became unemployed. Instead of staying home, I gathered ten friends and started a week-long service project called Teens on Mission. We served each day at local nonprofits, nursing homes, and food pantries. Speech and debate has prepared me to think quickly, listen carefully, and clearly communicate. Those are the same skills required to live out 1 Peter 3:15, and to be ready to share my hope with gentleness and respect.

Seven years ago, my sisters and I stood beside my dad at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. We traced names carved into the black granite and took turns reading them out loud. My dad stood quietly beside us, then said something I have never forgotten. “Freedom is never free.” My father served in the 101st Airborne Division and received a Bronze Star in Iraq. His father served from the occupation of Japan through Vietnam. Three of my great-grandfathers served in World War II. One flew missions as a B-17 gunner. One served as an Army cook in Europe. Another was a Marine captured on Guam in 1941 who survived nearly four years as a Japanese prisoner of war. Service runs deep in my family, but the most important lessons did not come from history books or medals. They came from everyday moments with my dad. One of those moments happened on a golf course. I had been competing in speech and debate since seventh grade. During my freshman year, I was disqualified from the Humorous Interpretation category at a tournament. I was embarrassed and frustrated. Instead of fixing the speech and trying again, I quit the category completely. Not just for that tournament, but for the rest of the year. And the next year. That summer, my dad and I were playing golf together when I had one of those holes every golfer dreads. Everything went wrong. My drives found the rough. My chips refused to cooperate. By the time I finished the hole, I had scored a 12. I was irritated and ready to forget the round. My dad looked at me and asked, “Do you want to quit the round because of one bad hole?” Of course I said no. “One bad hole doesn’t decide the rest of your game,” he said. Later that night, the connection hit me. If one bad hole was not worth quitting an entire round of golf, then one bad speech round was not worth quitting a whole event. The next school year, I returned to Humorous Interpretation. I wrote a new speech, practiced constantly, and began competing again. That year I won several tournaments, and in May 2025, I won the National Championship in Humorous Interpretation. That lesson still sticks with me. Late at night, when I am finishing research or studying for one of my dual credit college classes, I sometimes think about the stories my dad told me about my great-grandfather who survived as a prisoner of war. Compared to that kind of hardship, finishing another assignment does not seem so difficult. Those reminders shape how I approach both my education and my opportunities. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA in high school while completing twenty eight hours of dual credit college coursework, but the real lesson I carry with me is perseverance. Standing at the Vietnam Memorial with my dad, I realized that the freedoms I enjoy today came from sacrifices I did not have to make. I cannot repay that debt, but I can choose how I live in response to it. Sometimes honoring that legacy looks like serving others. Sometimes it looks like pushing through a difficult challenge. And sometimes it is simply remembering that one bad hole does not define the rest of the round. That is something my dad taught me, both on the golf course and in life.

Leadership through service often begins with something simple: noticing a need and deciding not to ignore it. For me, it began with disappointment that unexpectedly turned into an opportunity to bring people together and serve our community. For years, service has been a central part of my life. I have participated in mission trips to Waco, South Dallas, New Orleans, and Belize. I have served in my church since sixth grade as a small group leader in the Children’s Ministry and worked lights and sound for youth services. Through these experiences, I learned that leadership often begins by showing up and helping where help is needed. My perspective was tested when my dad lost his job after his company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Because of our situation, my family could no longer afford for me to attend another summer mission trip abroad. Facing that reality forced me to reflect on why I wanted to serve in the first place. Was it about travel? Was it about being with friends? Or was it truly about helping people? The turning point came during a casual evening with family friends. As I listened to my mom’s friend share how lonely her mother was in a nursing home, it stayed with me long after that night. The next day, after talking with my parents, I decided to gather a group of friends to visit a nursing home together. As the idea grew, one possibility led to another. If we were going to serve there, why not also help at a food pantry or donation center? When I learned that Samaritan’s Purse needed volunteers in its warehouse, everything came together. Instead of focusing on the disappointment of being left behind, I organized a week long local service experience and invited others to join me. That is how I started Teens on Mission. In the summer of 2024, I recruited ten girls, secured a host home, planned meals, built a budget, contacted nonprofit organizations, and scheduled two volunteer opportunities each day. During the week we played games at nursing homes, handed out food at food pantries, pulled weeds at veterans’ homes, wrote encouragement cards for a pregnancy center, collected canned foods in a neighborhood, and sorted clothing donations. At night we shared meals, told stories, and reflected on what we had experienced. Something unexpected happened during that week. My friends began to see service differently. It was no longer just something you signed up to do for a few hours. It became something we shared together, and several asked if we could do it again the following summer. That moment helped me understand the importance of leadership through service. Leadership is not about titles. It is about taking initiative, seeing a need, and inviting others to be part of the solution. As I continue my education, I plan to pursue a degree in Marketing and Professional Sales with the goal of working in medical device sales, helping physicians connect with tools that improve and save lives. Organizing Teens on Mission taught me that leadership does not begin with authority. It begins when someone decides to step forward and help.

Jesus is everything to me. At the end of the day, I work hard for an audience of One. My relationship with Him shapes how I see people, how I respond to challenges, and how I use the opportunities I have been given, and hopefully turn five talents into ten. Giving back did not begin for me with a carefully planned opportunity. It began with disappointment. For years, service has been a central part of my life. I have participated in mission trips to Waco, South Dallas, New Orleans, and Belize. I have served in my church since sixth grade as a small group leader in the Children’s Ministry, worked lights and sound for youth services, and helped lead elementary students during our week long Cross Training event each summer. Through these experiences, I learned that faith is something you live every day. My perspective was tested when my dad lost his job after his company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Because of our situation, my family could no longer afford for me to attend another summer mission trip abroad. Facing that reality forced me to reflect on why I wanted to go in the first place. Was it for the travel? Was it to be with friends? Or was it truly about serving others? That question challenged me to examine my heart. The turning point came during a casual evening with family friends. As I listened to my mom’s friend share how lonely her mother was in a nursing home, it weighed heavily on me. Imagining an entire day without a meaningful conversation stayed with me long after that night. The next day, I decided to gather a group of friends to visit a nursing home together. If we were going to serve there, why not also help at a food pantry or donation center? When I learned that Samaritan’s Purse needed volunteers in its warehouse, everything came together. Instead of focusing on the disappointment of being left behind, I decided to organize a week long service experience locally and invite others to join me, which is how Teens on Mission started. In the summer of 2024, I recruited ten girls, secured a host home, planned meals, built a budget, contacted nonprofits, and scheduled two volunteer projects each day. Throughout the week we played games at nursing homes, handed out food at food pantries, pulled weeds at veterans’ homes, wrote encouragement cards for a pregnancy center, collected canned foods in a neighborhood, and sorted clothing donations. At night we shared meals, told stories, and grew closer as friends. My friends asked me to organize another service week the following summer. What began as disappointment became an opportunity for a small community to grow together and serve others. It reinforced something my faith has taught me again and again: God often works through the unexpected. As I continue my education, I plan to pursue a degree in Marketing and Professional Sales with the goal of working in medical device sales. In that career I hope to serve physicians and healthcare teams by helping connect them with tools that improve and save lives. More importantly, I want my education to reflect my faith. Whether in the classroom, my career, or my community, I hope to continue serving others, leading with integrity, and reflecting the love of Christ. My faith has taught me that success is not measured only by achievement, but by the impact we have on others. My future life vision is simple: to work hard, serve faithfully, and honor the One who gave His life for me.

Jack Terry’s story needs to be made into a movie! It is a story of grit, determination, resilience, and hope. After surviving unimaginable loss in the Holocaust, he proves that adversity does not define a person. What defines us is how we respond. In my own life, adversity has looked different, but the lesson is similar. I will never forget that closet. I was seven years old, sitting on the floor in my mom’s closet, staring at ten simple math problems. She thought the quiet would help me focus. Instead, I melted down. I screamed. I tore my paper into pieces. I pulled clothes off the hangers. I wanted to concentrate, but my brain would not let me. Because of ADHD, school often felt overwhelming. I watched other students focus easily and finish their work while I struggled to stay on task. By third grade, I had already decided I was “bad at school.” Eventually my parents made the decision to move me into homeschooling so my learning environment could match the way my brain worked. That change helped me rebuild my confidence and learn how to manage my time and responsibilities. Over time, the same fast thinking that once made school difficult became one of my greatest strengths. Today I have a 4.0 GPA in high school and have completed twenty eight hours of dual credit college classes, also with a 4.0 GPA. What once felt like a limitation became motivation to work harder and prove to myself that I could succeed. Adversity appeared again when my dad lost his job after his company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Because of the financial strain, I could not attend a summer mission trip I had planned. I was disappointed, but the situation forced me to ask an important question. Was my desire to serve about travel, or was it truly about helping others? That question led to an unexpected opportunity. After hearing about an elderly woman who felt lonely in a nursing home, I gathered a group of friends to visit together. As the idea grew, I realized we could do more. I began contacting local organizations and planning additional projects. That is how Teens on Mission began. In the summer of 2024, I recruited ten girls, secured a host home, planned meals, built a budget, contacted nonprofits, and scheduled two volunteer projects each day. During that week we played games at nursing homes, handed out food at food pantries, pulled weeds at veterans homes, wrote encouragement cards for a pregnancy center, and sorted clothing donations. In the evenings we shared meals, played games, and talked about what we had learned. What began as disappointment turned into something meaningful. My friends asked me to organize another service week the following summer, and we plan to continue serving together even while we are in college. Stories like Jack Terry’s inspire me because they show how education and perseverance can transform hardship into purpose. His life demonstrated that resilience is not only about surviving difficulty but also about using your experiences to help others. I plan to pursue a degree in Marketing and Professional Sales with the goal of entering medical device sales. In that role, I hope to work alongside physicians and healthcare teams, helping connect them with tools that improve and save lives. Adversity has taught me that challenges can become opportunities to grow, lead, and serve. Like Jack Terry, I want to use education not only to build a career but also to give back to the communities that shaped me.

will never forget that closet. I was seven years old, sitting on the floor in my mom’s closet, staring at ten simple math problems. She thought the quiet would help me focus. Instead, I melted down. I screamed. I tore my paper into pieces. I pulled clothes off the hangers. I wanted to concentrate, but my brain would not let me. Because of ADHD, school often felt overwhelming and exhausting. I watched other students focus with ease and finish their work on time. By third grade, I had already decided I was “bad at school” and stopped wanting to try. Eventually my parents made a difficult but important decision. They moved me into homeschooling so my learning environment could match the way my brain worked. That decision changed everything. Homeschooling gave me the flexibility to learn in ways that helped me succeed instead of constantly struggle. I learned how to manage my own schedule, work independently, and take responsibility for my education. Instead of feeling trapped in a system that did not fit me, I was able to rebuild my confidence. In seventh grade, a teacher helped reinforce that shift in perspective. She told me that ADHD did not have to define me. It could be a limitation, or it could be a gift. That conversation stuck with me. I stopped waiting to have everything figured out and started using what I did have: energy, curiosity, and a lot to say. My mom encouraged me to join a competitive homeschool speech and debate league. I was nervous at first and did not feel ready, but I started anyway. Speech and debate gave my mind direction. Instead of fighting my fast thoughts, I learned to organize them. Instead of feeling embarrassed by how much I talked, I learned to use my voice with purpose. The girl who once struggled to finish assignments was now sparring with high school seniors and delivering five minute Impromptu speeches with only two minutes of preparation. During the 2024–25 school year, in a league of more than 2,300 students, I ranked in the top 10 percent nationally in team policy debate and in the top 3 percent in several speech events. In May 2025, I won the national championship in Humorous Interpretation. Homeschooling also gave me the flexibility to pursue leadership through service. When my dad lost his job after his company filed for bankruptcy, my family could not afford a mission trip I had planned to attend. Instead of staying disappointed, I gathered ten friends and created a week long service initiative called Teens on Mission. I organized the schedule, meals, and volunteer locations. We served at nursing homes, food pantries, veterans homes, and nonprofit warehouses. What started as disappointment became a project that continues each summer. Experiences like speech and debate and Teens on Mission taught me the independence, discipline, and initiative that homeschooling naturally encourages. As I look toward college, I plan to pursue a degree in Marketing and Professional Sales with the goal of entering medical device sales. I want to work alongside physicians and healthcare teams, helping connect them with tools that improve patient care and save lives. Homeschooling prepared me well for that future. It taught me how to manage my time, pursue opportunities independently, and take ownership of my education. Most importantly, it gave me the space to discover that ADHD was not just a challenge. In the right environment, it became my superpower. Once I found that environment, I finally learned how to succeed.

Golf has shaped my life the same way a good swing shapes ball flight, through patience, perseverance, and learning from every shot. My favorite part of golf is that every round is a new challenge. One hole may reward a bold swing that lands safely on the green, while the next shot keeps you humble. Golf teaches you quickly that success is not about a perfect round, but how you respond to challenges. I have been learning those lessons since I received my first set of plastic golf clubs on my first birthday. From that moment on, golf became a constant companion in my life. The game has taught me patience, perseverance, and problem solving skills that apply just as much off the course as they do on it. Patience in golf looks like deciding whether to attack a tight pin placement or play it safe for a two putt par. That same patience helps me work with children when I volunteer at youth golf camps or babysit for families in my community. Perseverance in golf means not giving up after a rough front nine and fighting back to finish strong on the back nine. I experienced something similar in the classroom when I earned an 72 on my first exam in a challenging dual credit Pre-Calculus class. Instead of letting that score define me, I treated it like a bad hole in golf. I studied harder, completed extra practice problems, and finished the class with an A. Golf also trains you to solve problems. When a tee shot finds the trees and the green is guarded by water and bunkers, you have to think through how to recover without making the situation worse. Sometimes you take your medicine and punch back into the fairway so you can save par. I use that same mindset each week when I plan my schedule of schoolwork, tournaments, and responsibilities. One of the biggest challenges I have faced came during the fall of my sophomore year when my health suddenly declined. Within three weeks I lost fifteen pounds and was experiencing severe stomach pain. After several emergency room visits and many tests, including MRIs, CT scans, and a colonoscopy, doctors were still searching for answers. Eventually an osteopathic doctor diagnosed me with Lyme disease. Recovery was slow and humbling. My daily workout was no longer practicing drives or walking eighteen holes. Instead it was walking from my bedroom to the kitchen table and then back upstairs to finish school in bed. When I finally began to regain strength, I started by hitting golf balls again in my garage and taking short walks around the neighborhood. My first high school tournament after the hospital completely changed my perspective. Success was no longer winning the tournament; it was simply walking and finishing eighteen holes. That day, my attitude received a mulligan. With time, determination, and many practice sessions, I rebuilt my strength and returned to competitive golf. I also began volunteering at youth golf camps and working as a caddy with the Caddies for Kids organization. Helping younger players learn the game reminds me that golf is about much more than trophies or scorecards. It is about perseverance, relationships, and the joy of the game itself. Golf continues to shape my character and guide how I approach challenges in life. Just like a difficult round, obstacles require patience, focus, and the determination to keep moving forward one shot at a time. That is what I love most about golf. Every round creates memories, and sometimes you are thankful there are no pictures on scorecards.

Golf has shaped my life much like a good swing shapes ball flight, through patience, persistence, and learning from every shot. The biggest lesson golf has taught me is that success does not come from a perfect round. It comes from how you respond after bad shots and from the people you meet along the way. I have been learning those lessons since I received my first set of plastic golf clubs on my first birthday. Over the years, golf has taught me patience, perseverance, and problem solving skills that apply just as much off the course as they do on it. Growing up homeschooled in Texas gave me the opportunity to spend more time outdoors and on the golf course. Instead of a traditional classroom schedule, my education often included early morning practice, tournament travel, and afternoons walking fairways under big Texas skies. Golf became more than a sport. It became a way to connect with nature, friends, and people from all walks of life. Patience in golf looks like knowing when to attack a tough pin and when to play safe for a two putt par. I learned those values early while participating in First Tee for four years and eventually reaching the Eagle level. First Tee reinforced the character lessons built into the game and connected me with mentors and young golfers in my community. Although I had to step away because of dual credit classes, those lessons have stayed with me. Perseverance might be the most important skill golf teaches. Anyone who plays the game knows that a rough front nine does not mean the round is over. I have experienced that many times on the course, including rounds where I struggled early but fought back to finish strong on the back nine. That same perseverance helped me in the classroom. When I earned a 72 on my first exam in a challenging dual credit Pre-Calculus class, I treated it like a bad hole. It was not the end of the round. I studied harder, completed extra practice problems, and finished the class with an A. Golf also teaches you to appreciate the environment that makes the game possible. Walking a course means noticing details. Early morning dew on fairways, wildlife moving along the tree line, and the quiet stillness before the first tee shot remind me how much the sport depends on healthy outdoor spaces. Courses are places where people gather, friendships form, and communities grow. Perhaps the most important perspective came during my sophomore year when my health declined and I lost fifteen pounds in three weeks. After hospital tests and a diagnosis of Lyme disease, my training routine became simply walking from my bedroom to the kitchen table. When I finally returned to my first high school tournament, success was not winning. It was simply walking and completing eighteen holes. That experience changed how I saw the game. It gave me a mulligan. Since then, I have rebuilt my strength, returned to tournaments, volunteered at youth golf camps, and caddied with Caddies for Kids to help younger players learn the game and gain confidence. Golf has shown me how the sport brings communities together. A golf course can be a place where beginners learn patience, kids build confidence, and lifelong friendships begin. I also appreciate organizations that help make the game more accessible and environmentally responsible. Efforts like recycling golf balls and keeping them out of landfills protect the courses and outdoor spaces golfers depend on. Giving a golf ball a second life keeps the game affordable while reducing waste. Looking ahead, I plan to continue playing competitive golf in college while pursuing a career in professional sales, specifically medical device sales. No matter where my career takes me, golf will remain an important part of my life and connection to community. I hope to stay involved by mentoring younger golfers, volunteering at youth programs, and supporting organizations that make golf sustainable and accessible. Whether helping a young player find confidence on the first tee or supporting efforts that protect our courses and outdoor spaces, I want to give back to the game that has given me so much. Golf has taught me that improvement is a lifelong process, one swing, one round, and one lesson at a time. Just like a well played round, the real reward is not only the score at the end but the people you meet, the places you experience, and the impact you leave along the way.