In my 16 years of living, I believe my greatest accomplishment to date is becoming my brother’s role model. In many ways, I have felt like a test subject for my family, and this came by being the first daughter in an African household. With this role and no rule book on how to do it the right way, I took on responsibilities from a young age. It often felt like I was brought into this world with the expectation of not only succeeding but also guiding. No one prepared me for how overwhelming it would be. Being the first in my family to pursue a higher education at an American university, increased the weight on my shoulders as I have two younger ones looking up to me as I navigate my future in college. My family’s move to the United States came with one goal: to give my siblings and I the opportunity to pursue better education. My senior year of high school challenged me more than the previous years. I encouraged myself to take on more AP courses, became more involved with my extracurricular activities, managed home responsibilities, whilst staying on top of the college application process throughout the school year. There was no guide how to balance the late nights after my dance practices to do homework and still help around the house . The adjustment to this new routine came with frequent breakdowns early on. It was until one of my breakdowns, my brother told me “You have no idea how much you inspire me”- I truly didn’t. This felt like more responsibility was put onto my shoulders but a reminder that my actions and efforts were never looked down upon, and to have two people from a younger generation place me on such a high pedestal is a feeling I can’t explain. “You seem to know what you’re doing, at a young age, with your hair business, skills, while still maintaining your good grades and awards”. That experience taught me that leadership isn’t always loud and my efforts were not in vain. I had been so focused on surviving and doing it the ‘right way’ that I didn’t realize how much of a standard I set for my younger ones. Even when no one was clapping for me yet, I was reminded that consistency and silent leadership were still creating impact. As I go into college in a few months, my hope is to do the same in the field of Sustainable Architecture. According to the NCARB, less than 0.5% of licensed architects in the U.S. are Black women. That number is even smaller for those focused on sustainability, but this deeply motivates me to bring representation to the field and STEM as a whole. In the future, I hope to create opportunities for younger girl to thrive in their desired fields and motivate them to push past the boundaries set by society. I plan to mentor aspiring female designers, host and speak publicly about the need for more representation in this field. By challenging systems that limit our potential, my strive to be a person that the next generation can look up to, relate to, and feel empowered in these spaces only deepens from this point forward.

Furthering my education is important to me because as a Nigerian immigrant who has been given the opportunity to live in a land with endless potential, I aim to take full advantage of it. With my background, I have seen how education opens doors that once felt closed. I plan to pursue a degree in sustainable architecture—not just to build structures, but to design spaces that reflect the needs of people and the environment. Education is the foundation that allows me to combine my artistic talents with practical skills to create lasting change. For my sixth birthday, I remember having a big Sofia the First cake with a cut out. I did not just enjoy eating the soft vanilla cake that day- I traced the character and ran to my dad proudly showing my masterpiece. This was the moment I realized I loved creating. Those anyone in the art community that tracing is looked down upon, but what may be seen as a shortcut became my foundation. Art has followed me throughout my life, to the point that I have gained the nickname Munalisa, influenced by the famous piece, and the fact that I always have a sketchbook on me. Art is more than a mere hobby to me; it is my therapy and way of understanding the world around me. As someone who feels deep emotions with no one to confide in, I find solace in my canvas, where I can express myself freely with no judgement. There is a deep satisfaction when the movement of my hand aligns with the flow of my thoughts, and the ability to illustrate the chaos of my mind into a physical composition; an idea brought to life. Growing up, I’ve noticed how easy to lose talents as life moves, but I made the decision early on that I would not let that happen to me. This is what motivated to me pursue a path where I can still use my artistic abilities. Moving to the United States and experiencing the culture shock that comes with it – such as how people interact and the high level of independence- was overwhelming. Soon after my move, the pandemic hit and the world shut down. During this time, art became an important aspect of my life by creating a mental space to not only express but to learn how to exist in this new environment. Art has not only been an outlet for expression but also a lens through which I’ve come to understand the world around me. Living in a new country, I began noticing the art on murals, in museums, in fashion, and in everyday design—and each piece taught me something new. From learning about different cultures and regions to gaining insight into social issues and histories, art became a form of education in itself. It allowed me to explore perspectives beyond my own and made this unfamiliar place feel more connected and meaningful. Through it all, art has given me clarity, and education is giving me the tools. With both, I’m building a future where I can make beauty meaningful—for myself, for my culture, and for others.

Munachimso. A name I carry with pride, though I’ve grown used to the long pause that falls over my classroom when read out loud. It reflects my Nigerian background and everything I represent. I am a 16-year-old rising college freshman who loves blending creativity with purpose. Ever since I was little, I have always found joy in acquiring new hobbies, to the point that I’ve gained the nickname ‘The Jack of all trades’ by the adults in my life. I enjoy painting, drawing, dancing, baking, cooking, etc. My transition to the United States in 2019 was sudden- what was intended to be a short visit transformed into a permanent move. As I adjusted to the unfamiliar environment, I watched the silent struggles of my parent plays as they confront invisible barriers that often meet immigrants. Despite this, they have continued to create a foundation of stability for my siblings and I. Their quiet resilience and unwavering sacrifice is what motivates me today. This is what sticks with me as I aim to achieve higher and succeed regardless of these boundaries, and to honor everything they’ve endured. If I could do anything with my life, I would use my creativity to build- whether it’s physical spaces or tools- that uplift communities. That is where my passion for sustainable architecture and STEM intersects. STEM excites me because of the meeting point of creativity and function, and architecture sits right at the intersection. What attracts me to this path is the fact that is where engineering, design, environmental science meet, and I get to challenge myself by designing spaces that are not only aesthetically pleasing but useful and sustainable. At its core, sustainable architecture relies on the principles of STEM: using science to understand global environmental impact, applying technology to aid and integrate smart systems, engineering for compatible and efficient structures, and using mathematics for resource optimization. My childhood in Nigeria consisted of many core memories, from the food to my community traditions, but one factor that many may notice is the firsthand experience of its harsh conditions. Experiencing the combination of frequent power outages and scorching heat, reaching up to a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, made me acutely aware of the global environmental inequalities. I remember spending my Christmas holidays in my mother’s village in Owerri, Nigeria. There, I learned how to harvest plants on our family farm, gained knowledge of certain crops and their characteristics, and cared for the chickens in my grandfather’s backyard. These experiences fostered my love for the environment and taught me the value of patience and tenacity. My connection to the land and labor came full circle when I began volunteering at a local farm here in the United States. I helped care for poultry and harvest vegetables, which contributed to food donations at the local farmers market that season. Even under the blazing sun and the relaxing smell of the soil, I felt a deep connection to the planet. When I think of my greatest challenge, I think back to my ceramics classroom where two of my classmates and I were tasked to create an interactive STEM-based prototype for the new Children’s Play STEAM Museum. The prompt was to create something that is science and creative fused using clay, but every attempt to find a solution was met with some form of complication. Our idea was to replicate the orbit of the solar system, but our own twist. We designed a rotating planetary model that would be operated by a lever, causing each planet to move in an orbital motion. During our process of design, we ran into multiple obstacles. For example, we thought to use paper because it could be easily manipulated, but this material could not withstand the heat of the kiln. Clay was a required element in this build, but it also posed challenges of its own- especially for the gears and lever we needed. We had to figure out how to create tiny functional cogs, knowing that if a piece was not exactly right in measurements, the whole system would fail. It felt like a never-ending cycle of trail and error, but we were still able to push forwards and concluded on a design by refining our ideas and adjusting our materials. Ultimately, we created a working design that impressed the museum panel and earned us third place in the contest. As someone from a continent that is especially affected by the impact of climate change, I aspire to use creativity and perseverance to build inclusive and purposeful spaces that serve the communities they are designed for. Sustainable design allows architects to lessen carbon footprints, integrate renewable energy systems, use recycled materials, and promote environmental resilience. That is why I’m passionate about going into the landscape and architecture industry through a sustainable lens. I plan to use modern landscape technology and sustainable materials to develop spaces that reduce environmental impact and uplift the people who live in them. I aspire to transform my vision into action and play a part in shaping a more beautiful, resilient world for future generations to come.

Munachimso. A name I carry with pride, though I’ve grown used to the long pause that falls over my classroom when read out loud. It reflects my Nigerian background and everything I represent. I am a 16-year-old Igbo girl who loves blending my creativity with purpose. I enjoy drawing, painting, designing, baking, cooking, dancing, etc. I am passionate about art, sustainability, and designing meaningful spaces. These passions have shaped my future goal: to become a sustainable architect who creates inclusive spaces that reflect both cultural identity and environmental responsibility. With my mother securing a temporary position in the United States, in December 2019, I left Nigeria with the idea that I would just be spending my Christmas break in the U.S. This changed when the pandemic hit three months later, which brought travel bans, global uncertainty and caused a rolling six-month job extensions. This was until my mother secured a permanent position and stretched our “visit” into a stay. Adjusting to a completely new environment in Virginia was far from easy. I spent the early months in what felt like a bubble. From virtual learning, to being surrounded by those who I could not relate to, the cultural disconnect was stark, and I found myself frequently overwhelmed. This was not until my relocation to Maryland- where the diversity was more notable, and my identity was less foreign- that I finally began to gain a sense of belonging. This move was truly a turning point for me in this new land. After moving to Maryland, I embraced my commitment to creating inclusive spaces by helping to revive and reengage my school’s African Student Association; a club that began with six people to over fifty in three months. As the club’s social media manager and creative director, I helped design event flyers and promoted our meetings to reunite students with their heritage and create a welcoming space for cultural expression. One of the most transformative lessons my move to the United States has taught me is the importance of exploring beyond the boundaries I once believed existed. Coming from a culture that prioritizes medicine, law, and engineering career paths, I grew up believing my success was confined to those traditional fields. In Nigeria, my love for art and designing was undervalued and dismissed, but moving to the U.S opened my eyes to the limitless opportunities-where creativity is not only accepted but celebrated. My childhood in Nigeria consisted of many core memories, from the food to my community traditions, but one factor that many may notice is the firsthand experience of its harsh conditions. Experiencing the combination of frequent power outages and scorching heat, reaching up to a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, made me acutely aware of the global environmental inequalities. As someone from a continent that is disproportionately vulnerable to the impact of climate change, I aspire to use my cultural values, creativity, and determination to build inclusive and purposeful spaces that serve the communities they are designed for. The global issue of climate change and my value for creativity motivated me to seek an underrepresented branch of architecture, sustainable architecture. This path allows me to merge innovative ideas with impact, designing spaces that address environmental inequity, as seen in regions like Africa.

As someone from a continent that is disproportionately vulnerable to the impact of climate change while contributing the least to it, I aspire to use my cultural values, creativity, and determination to build inclusive and purposeful spaces that serve the communities they are designed for. Being a first-generation Nigerian immigrant, I carry with me the persistence and discipline that are deeply rooted in my upbringing and culture. In every room that I enter, this is a part of me that I treasure, take pride in, and ensure everyone knows is a fundamental part of my identity. The diligent and ambitious standards set by Nigeria’s rigorous education system created a foundation for me to strive beyond these standards and instilled in me the belief that hard work and perseverance are crucial. My childhood in Nigeria consisted of many core memories, from the food to my community traditions, but one factor that many may notice is the firsthand experience of its harsh conditions. Experiencing the combination of frequent power outages and scorching heat, reaching up to a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, made me acutely aware of the global environmental inequalities and was my first introduction to the issue. I remember spending my Christmas holidays in my mother’s village in Amuzari, Owerri. There, I learned how to harvest plants on our family farm, gained knowledge of certain crops and their characteristics, and cared for the chickens in my grandfather’s backyard. These experiences fostered my love for animals and the environment, and taught me the value of patience and tenacity. My connection to the land and labor came full circle when I began volunteering at a local farm here in the United States. I helped care for poultry and harvest vegetables, which contributed to food donations at the local farmers market that season. Even under the blazing sun and the relaxing smell of the soil, I felt a deep connection to the planet, and this involvement served as a reminder that these small acts of care can have a broader impact. As part of my commitment to building communities and creating inclusive spaces, I took on a role in reviving and reengaging North Point High School’s African Student Association. As the social media manager and creative director, I helped design event flyers and promoted our meetings to reunite students with their heritage and create a welcoming space for cultural expression. These experiences went beyond simple volunteering; they became a cultural reconnection. Together, these encounters and my heritage strengthened my sense of purpose and inspired me to pursue a career in architecture - a field that requires dedication and care, much like farming. The global issue of climate change and my value for creativity motivated me to seek an underrepresented branch of architecture; sustainable architecture. This path allows me to merge innovative ideas with impact, designing spaces that address environmental inequity, as seen in regions like Africa. With the aid of the Dr. Soronnadi Nnaji Legacy Scholarship, I will invest in the resources necessary such as modeling software, sustainability research books, and design materials that will sharpen my skills as I work toward getting my education. Like Dr. Nnaji, I hope to use my education to give back—not only by creating environmentally responsible structures, but also by mentoring others, sharing knowledge, and representing Nigerian excellence in every space I enter.

It was never that hard to make those tears run down my cheeks. I have always been known as the sensitive one in the room-an empath who feels deeply. Art became my translator, as I find that not all understand the complex emotions I experience. I believe that the flow of my paintbrush on my canvas is an interpretation of my inner most feelings and thoughts. Being able to illustrate symbols and images that represent how I feel onto a physical composition is a calming therapy for me. I also use art as a form of reflection on unique experiences of my identity, as a young Nigerian immigrant navigating two worlds. My first meeting with art was on my sixth birthday, when I was presented with a Sofia the First cutout on my cake. I did not just enjoy eating the soft vanilla cake that day- I traced out the character on a piece of paper and ran to my dad, proudly showing my masterpiece. What may be seen as a shortcut and form of cheating in the art community became my foundation. Ever since, art has followed me throughout my life, so much that I have gained the nickname 'Munalisa'- inspired by the famous piece and the fact that I always have a sketchbook on me. This acts as a small reminder that creativity is how people see mirand how I see myself. Growing up in a country where the spotlight shines over the 'big careers' such as medicine and law, this passion of mine has been seen as impractical. This belief has affected those in my family, as one could say I come from a long line of artists- my grandfather, dad, aunt, and cousins all carry this gift. But as life, expectations and practicality takes hold, this light has dimmed. Today, I am the only one in my family still harboring this gift. Watching the creative spark of those around me fade led me to make a promise to myself: I won't let that happen to me. Despite art being dismissed in modern Nigerian society, this form of expression has been used as a language of power and storytelling by my ancestors. From the sacred decorated Mbari mud houses to the carved wooden statues of the kenga figures, art has been craved into my history and I strive to continue that legacy each time I paint, sketch, or design. Through art, I hope to form emotional connections with audiences and create communities with those who see themselves in my work- a community of empaths whose experiences connect with mine and. also introduce art as a form of expression for those who have difficulties doing so. To me, art is not just what I create-it is who I am becoming. My future with art does not end on a canvas. Using my creative foundation, I'm paving a path toward a career in architecture and design, while nurturing my creativity through several art-based businesse that toster my skills. In a world where art is cast aside, I choose stand for it, by preserving emotion-and honor heritage. I hope to inspire others to see art as a powerful direction.

The Girl Who Keeps Beginning Fade in The smell of lavender floods the room as the luminescence of the moon shines through the white curtains. The camera pans across a messy bedroom of unlimited qualities. In one corner lays the pile of unfinished crotchet pieces beside large paintings. In another, a skateboard that lays against a stack of baking magazines and cardboard boxes. In the center of the room sits an easel with canvas the size of a table on it. A girl sits by her desk working to meet her painting deadline with a laptop screen glowing. I look at the multiple open tabs on my laptop screen - scholarships applications that have labeled me as ‘ineligible’ due to my citizenship status. A disappointment that stings but never stops me. I’ve never believed in limiting myself to one path. From handling church production cameras to being a dedicated member of a dance team and more, pursuing skills to build up my collection. The soft hum of my laptop fills the quiet space. Hunched over the keyboard with a new scholarship prompt glowing back at me: What is your story? I squint at the screen, scanning a mystery waiting to be solved. My story? A story that doesn’t have a clear plot- it is one that holds many And then, the room swiftly fades CUT TO: A seven-year-old Nigerian girl in her backyard, proudly writing the name Coco- a name for a bird that visited often. She’s built an enclosure using carboard boxes and mosquito nets, with use of scraps and imagination. CUT TO: The camera quickly moves into another setting, transported forward in time, now sitting in the waiting area of the airport. “Flight to Washington D.C, please head to Gate D” It is 2019. The rolling sound of our suitcases fills my ears as we walk through the gates of the unknown. Excitement fills me, for this is my first time seeing the world outside what I knew it was, unaware of the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing the gate back any time soon. This mix of excitement and uncertainty makes me feel uneasy, but I know there’s a reason for everything. CUT TO: My accent is changes. I sit in the clamorous setting of my freshman English class and stare at the blank paper with a prompt in mind: Write a letter to your future self. Memories flood as I reflect on the past three years in this foreign country: a global pandemic, the constant change especially in a new school, and navigating the feeling of being excluded. I didn’t feel like I belonged, but slowly, this began to change. CUT Fluorescent lights flicker overheard. Another move. Another unfamiliar hallway. I start over, again, but this time, with more confidence in everything I do. Getting more involved with my community, joining club and being a part of a team made me feel accomplished. I still collect skills the way I used to collect cardboard boxes: transforming ordinary things into something more. CUT TO: I blink. The familiar scent of lavender fills my nostrils, and I am back to the glowing screen. The cursor blinks like a heartbeat. My life has never been steady path. Each transition -from Nigeria to America, from carboard creations to architectural dreams- has taught me adaptation and to excel in any environment I find myself in. Soon, the sound of each finger hitting the keys of the keyboard fills the room and I begin with the title, The Girl Who Keeps Beginning. “Congratulations! Your application has been submitted!” Fade out

While some may have their unique collectibles, from American dolls to the newest Nike shoes, mine was cardboard boxes at age seven. Not for the mere pretend play, but to build homes for my acquaintances- birdhouses and enclosures for my backyard visitors. These early creations sparked my love for art. Growing up I have always been regarded as the ‘artist of the room’- a title granted with the expectation that I can effortlessly create a perfect circle. Art is more than a mere hobby to me; it is my therapy and my way of understanding the world around me. There is a deep satisfaction when the movement of my hand aligns with the flow of my thoughts; an idea brought to life. The ability to illustrate the chaos of my mind into a physical composition inspired me to do more with my creativity, and it was in one moment the light bulb lit up. Selecting Pixar’s WALL-E in my ninth grade Earth Science class as a movie to watch was solely because it was one I had never seen before. I had yet to realize that this movie would be one to introduce a subtle question: What would the world look like without greed? I believe greed is the main reason we struggle with sustainability today. As I watched the Earth in WALL-E, now a ‘Trash planet’, consumed by waste and being inhabitable, I couldn’t help but wonder a world where our planet is truly cared for rather than subdued by the obsession over wealth and convenience. This question inspired me to bring more empathy into the world through environmental architecture, leading me to learn more about sustainability. From watching videos and documentaries to implementing eco-friendly practices in my daily life, I imagine creating spaces and structures that are not only functional and pleasing but also ensure a healthy environment for future generations to come. As I begin this new chapter of my life, pursuing Environmental Design, I am eager to build structures the same way I build up colors, to see how this passion of mine will evolve and allow me to not only understand the world better, but also blend different ideas to tackle challenges. I am excited to see how my creativity will prosper and progress, merging my passion with innovative ideas. I see this career as a path where I envision and create artistic structures that harmonize with the planet. Becoming an environmental architect is more than a goal for me- it is a way for me to leave a lasting impact on the world and highlight the importance of protecting our natural resources. To work with the planet and not against it; to preserve and protect the gift that has been given to us. I embody Chidubè’s values through the way I give back and I hope to use my creativity not only to build structures, but to build a more mindful, compassionate world—one design at a time.

While some may have their unique collectibles, from American dolls to the newest Nike shoes, mine was cardboard boxes at age seven. Not for the mere pretend play, but to build homes for my acquaintances- birdhouses and enclosures for my backyard visitors. These early creations sparked my love for art. Growing up I have always been regarded as the ‘artist of the room’- a title granted with the expectation that I can effortlessly create a perfect circle or paint the Mona Lisa from memory. Art is more than a mere hobby to me; it is my therapy and my way of understanding the world around me. As someone who feels deep emotions with no one to confide in, I find solace in my canvas, where I can express myself freely with no judgement. There is a deep satisfaction when the movement of my hand aligns with the flow of my thoughts, and the ability to illustrate the chaos of my mind into a physical composition; an idea brought to life. I would always wonder what made my pieces looked dull. Not knowing that to bring these ideas to life, my color choices and the tone of my palette are essential. This realization would unlock a new area of my artistic style. In my first painting class during junior year, we were assigned our weekly visual journal, which I personally found to be unexciting. However, the prompt for this assignment was color theory, a topic that tends to be complex for some. In almost every art classroom, there is always a color wheel poster that would traditionally be glanced at by students, yet few of us never grasped their significance. Little did I know this task would change my perspective and become my ‘wow’ moment, transforming my understanding of color theory that shaped my approach to art and life. One day while working on a self-portrait, I made a discovery. The dark areas of my painting were not black but a mix of purple and green. Who would have thought? This overruled my belief that dark areas needed black and lighter areas needed white. Each of these primary colors are symbolic to me and are not just simple colors. Red is the essence that bring my artwork to life, enriching my work. Yellow is the brightness, and blue is the cool tone. The mixture of yellow and blue is green, my experiences that are both cool and warm; joyful and difficult. This spectrum reflects my journey in life as new variations of colors continues to expand, creating a color wheel that is me. My understanding of color theory helped me embrace the feelings that are associated with it and become more aware of my environment. As I begin this new chapter of my life, pursuing Environmental Architecture, I am excited to build structures the same way I build up colors, to see how this passion of mine will evolve and allow me to not only understand the world better, but also blend different ideas to tackle challenges. I am excited to see how my creativity will prosper and progress, merging my passion with innovative ideas. My life is a never-ending work of art, with new details and highlights added every day. These represent the lessons learnt, adding to who I am. As I step back to admire the piece I have created, I realize this is one that is forever in progress, a reflection of my journey.

“Muna speak up” A phrase I’ve heard so often that it does not faze me as it goes through one ear and out the other. “I’m sorry but you aren’t loud enough”. It was not a surprise that this was the reason behind the cheerleader coach’s decision after I walked up to the table. Disappointment washed over me as I strode out of the school gymnasium surrounded by squealing girls with my high ponytail, red bow, and lipstick. My words never seemed to carry far, and I disliked the feeling of forcing myself to be louder just to be heard. This wasn’t the first time I’ve felt ostracized. For about half of my high school career, judgment has always been my enemy. It brought the fear that led to me unconsciously self-sabotaging and denying myself opportunities, afraid of disapproval from my peers. I was always afraid of being alone during high school because of this fear that had a hold on me. My self-motivation constantly declined when I tried new things that led to disappointment in an attempt to get out of this shell- more like a prison built by my own anxiety. ‘Rejection is redirection’ was a phrase I never believed in, until I saw the group of girls who danced at my school’s pep rally during sophomore year, and it was one thought that came to mind: that will be me, and it was. The next season I tried out for my school’s POMS team and made it. Dance has always been a hidden part of me. From a minor pretend stage lip-syncing my favorite Fifth Harmony songs and playing Just Dance to becoming a part of a team brought me joy. Since becoming a part of a team, I have learned many skills and lessons that have built me as a person. It led me to be more expressive of myself and allowed me to understand the importance of balance, not only in holding a double pirouette, but also with my academic and school life. It has taught me perseverance and responsibility, even though I was never fond of receiving the consequences of my teammates’ faults, but this was what a team was- sharing both victories and setbacks. This enabled my accountability and patience. The same way I adjust to perfecting my double pirouettes, I’ve learned to adapt to unexpected challenges that come my way. I am incredibly passionate about my education, but as an international student I am ineligible for FAFSA, making scholarships essential for funding my education. Being able to fund my education will enable me to pursue Environmental Design, where I hope to my merging my creativity and passion with innovative ideas. I believe this career path is a way for me to leave a lasting impact on the world and highlight the importance of protecting our natural resources. To work with the planet and not against it; to preserve and protect the gift that has been given to us.

Muna speak up” A phrase I’ve heard so often to the point that it does not faze me as it goes through one ear and out the other. “I’m sorry but you aren’t loud enough”. It was not a surprise that this was the reason behind the cheerleader coach’s decision after I walked up to the table. Disappointment washed over me as I strode out of the school gymnasium surrounded by squealing girls with my high ponytail, red bow, and lipstick. My words never seemed to carry far, and I disliked the feeling of forcing myself to be louder just to be heard. This wasn’t the first time I’ve felt ostracized. Falling at track tryouts during my freshman year, hearing the quiet whispers and laughs with no one around to dismiss the embarrassment fed to this dread of standing out the wrong way. For about half of my high school career, judgment has always been my enemy. It brought the fear that led to me unconsciously self-sabotaging and denying myself opportunities, afraid of disapproval from my peers. I was always afraid of being alone during high school because of this fear that had a hold on me. My self-motivation constantly declined when I tried new things that led to disappointment in an attempt to get out of this shell- more like a prison built by my own anxiety. ‘Rejection is redirection’ was a phrase I never believed in, until I saw the group of girls who danced at my school’s pep rally during sophomore year, and it was one thought that came to mind: that will be me, and it was. The next season I tried out for the North Point POMS team and made it. Dance has always been a hidden part of me. From a minor pretend stage lip-syncing my favorite Fifth Harmony songs and playing Just Dance to becoming a part of a team brought me joy. Since becoming a part of a team, I have learned many skills and lessons that have built me as a person. It led me to be more expressive of myself and allowed me to understand the importance of balance, not only in holding a double pirouette, but also with my academic and school life. It has taught me perseverance and responsibility, even though I was never fond of receiving the consequences of my teammates’ faults, but this was what a team was- sharing both victories and setbacks. This enabled my accountability and patience. The same way I adjust to perfecting my double pirouettes, I’ve learned to adapt to unexpected challenges that may come my way. In my community, I will bring the perseverance and adaptability I developed as a dancer to push past fear and self- doubt, while embracing challenges, contributing to collaborative spaces and uplifting others just as I did on a team. Finally, I let my movements speak louder than my voice. Dance broke this hold and replaced it with something new: excitement.