Sweet Tooth - A Villanelle Jack was a dentist, spectacles and coat Got his degree, ate an apple a day He was a nutritionist too, they’d gloat Jack gave out balloons, they never could float But his patients still loved him through the grey Jack was a dentist, spectacles and coat But Jack had a secret, under his notes His grocery lists read a tad cliché He was a nutritionist too, they’d gloat Brussel sprouts and oats, fried eggs without toast Those notes were all lies he never could say Jack was a dentist, spectacles and coat But also a cheat, candy down his throat A sweet tooth so grand, he loved his sorbet He was a nutritionist too, they’d gloat To fix Jack’s cavities, he rode night’s cloak The Mansfield dentists agreed to say nay Jack was a dentist, spectacles and coat Cursed by the chocolate to live as a ghost The shame weighed him down like a bad toupee Jack was a dentist, spectacles and coat He was a nutritionist too, they’d gloat

During kindergarten naptime, I would sneak off to the book rack to steal a story to read, diving under my blanket with a flashlight and mood for literature. By the time I hit fourth grade, I was reading at a junior-high level, placed in A-level English classes for the rest of middle school. While I have had a passion for literature since then, I did not know what that would translate into for a career someday. Fast forward to sixth grade, when I began writing. My English teacher pulled me aside one day and asked me to write a nonfiction piece on the Holocaust, our most recent unit, and I agreed, wanting to understand our history from the important texts we were assigned as homework. The next day, she shared my piece, modeling our summative project’s rubric after the very twelve pages I shared the evening prior. “You’d be a great author” she said, and I agreed, but wondered how. Unfortunately, in the years that followed, I did some research on authorship but realized how tough a dream it was; and ultimately decided to look into pre-med for life after high school. Medical procedures fascinated me, especially dermatology. Yet again, this dream ended when I took Biology Honors my freshman year and realized science was actually my worst subject. Unsurprisingly, English was my best. In high school, my career felt so much bigger than just a notion; a dream, and one I could prepare to someday, maybe, reach. Even if not as an author, English would be my major, I was certain, going into sophomore year. Attending a diverse public school also allowed me to take various arts courses. That second year, I took a year’s worth of writing workshops. There, I wrote my first manuscript, finished in a record seventy-three days, my first complete project on an authorship level. Again, that dream inched ever closer. Junior year was spent researching English programs in the Northeast, as I knew I wanted to stay close to home, and somewhere urban, to pursue my writing and literary studies. I had also written two more drafts of my manuscript before finishing, and began searching for an agent. The book follows main character Hazel on her quest to seek justice; her mom was fired as school principal following a media incident Hazel was partially responsible for. As she investigates, diving into the complex past of her small New York town with her three best friends, she reflects on herself, her ever-present anger towards that night, and begins to wonder whether her priorities are healthy for her; if some things are just meant to change. Senior year, the plan has been set: I will go to Emerson College (in Boston) this coming fall for Writing, Literature, and Publishing, and go to graduate school either at Emerson again or Boston University. Over these last four years, my literary voice has changed quite much, robotic words and wonky synonyms replaced with literary devices and descriptions beyond the mundane. Hence, I started redrafting the book a month ago, and set a new goal: publish it during undergrad. So, to answer your question: yes, I have stuck to my passion for English, born inside a little girl who snuck books under her covers. Sure, this dream has evolved with every passing year, but I can go to bed every night excited to see it keep growing, to publish new works and immerse myself in the field that I undeniably love.

I define “community” as those around you, whether they be teachers, parents, friends, or otherwise. Growing up in a multi-generational household, I consider my mom and her parents to be my community. My mom, working to receive her third degree while raising me, taught me the importance of hard work, and how it really does take a village to come together to accomplish the challenges. For example, being a single mother with an undergraduate degree that required living in the city, she worked twelve-hour days to provide for us. My grandparents often cooked for me and picked me up from school events (NHS meetings, crew practice, etc). Going off to college this coming fall, I want to give back, as I would not have thrived in high school without their unwavering support. Hence, I plan to continue several community-oriented activities: crew, cat volunteering, and tutoring. These three activities demonstrate excellence in diversity, showing experience with sports (crew), animal health/caring for others (cat volunteering), and academics (tutoring). Throughout my adolescence, I have tried a variety of sports, but none seemed to click. I am around five feet tall, and on the thinner side from an eating disorder, which is typically considered a disadvantage… until I found rowing (crew). The coxswain (cox) of the boat was a smaller person who called the rowing drills and steering, the ultimate brains of the operation. I found myself the only person to sit comfortably in the coxswain seat, and ultimately felt right at home. In high school, I have coxed varsity for two crew teams: E.O. Smith High School Crew and Coventry Lake Community Rowing. Going to college in Boston, I plan to take this knowledge and join a local crew team to continue my journey with athletics. As a current officer of National Honor Society, I have organized multiple events for my high school (e.g. a day to write letters to senior citizens). Part of this commitment is doing thirty two service hours a year, the majority of which I get from cat volunteering. Every week, I drive to the local shelter to feed (sometimes administer medication), clean the rooms of, and socialize elderly/shy/special needs cats to prepare them for adoption. Since beginning this work, around forty cats have gone home. Lastly, I plan to tutor in college. I currently work with students in three subjects: English/writing, math, and Spanish, also through National Honor Society. I chose to tutor because of my own experiences as a tutee. During sophomore year, I had gauged a weakness in physical science, when I took Chemistry Honors. Even though it was one of the hardest classes of my teenage years, it taught me to ask for help, and raised my grade by over a letter. Going to college in Boston, for Writing, Literature and Publishing at Emerson College, I plan to continue these three endeavors to both develop my communication skills and find a community away from home. Growing up surrounded by support, I want to channel that into how I carry myself, and engage with others in the arts fields of Emerson College. Being in an arts field means constant interaction with fellow students, and exemplifying this not only benefits my peers, but my growth into adulthood.

Cinema is a key form of media, not just for entertainment but for using our voices to share ideas and messages. Wicked is no exception. I first heard about it on Instagram and decided to give it a shot, despite not otherwise watching musicals. It officially became the first one I liked. One of the typical downfalls of movies is their lack of representation. Wicked, meanwhile, showed the ups and downs of being outside the standard, with Elphaba being green and having several African-American hairstyles that are otherwise changed to meet a more-westernized image (e.g. the micro-braids). What stood out to me was how they made a point to address racism, even if in a fictional setting, without keeping it unrealistic. Sure, she gained popularity, but her identity held her at a constant disadvantage to reaching the status of characters like Glinda and Prince Fiyero. Glinda’s character growth is also something to be acknowledged. Growing up with more privilege, she found it difficult to understand where others might struggle internally, offering at first to “fix” Elphaba’s green skin. The moment she realized the damage of her actions, at the dance, was the ultimate turning point for her. Still, she ended up siding with Madame Morrible instead of her friend, demonstrating the complexity of friendships and social expectations against our own moral values. Lastly, it warns of the dangers of fascism, and how to respond to it. The Wizard of Oz, who was revealed to be an antagonist, used animals as the scapegoats to cover his own means to control Oz, even using propaganda to harm Elphaba’s image. This has been similarly, if debatably, used by governments to create conflict, though overlooked due to censorship. Again, Wicked does not shy away from the tough conversations, demonstrating a solid understanding of the concurrent world. Wicked fostered a sense of realism that can be greatly learned from. As a writer, I often refer back to the movie in wondering whether my characters and plot are truly realistic to what real people experience, even if fictionally written like Glinda and Elphaba. Their characters are a model example of what film stands for, and how to represent reality in the fictional.

Going into high school, I knew I wanted to explore literary arts, as I found a joy in reading that could not be replicated. Part of this was by exploring various forms of writing, my favorite of which being novel-writing. To celebrate my first midterms, I decided to draft some ideas, and eventually came up with the main characters of a Young Adult (YA) Contemporary Fiction book, following Hazel, a spunky high-school junior on her quest for justice. Her mom’s career was upended following a media incident she was partially at fault for, and takes solace in bringing back a sense of normalcy. By the time I finished my first draft, I swore to myself that I would have it published by the time I graduated in three years. Unfortunately, this notion of publication gradually turned into what I deemed my “success” as a writer. By the time I finished drafts two and three, I still had not found an agent, and eventually grew frustrated with myself, taking a break. At the time, it felt like a wasted dream. However, in giving myself time to work on other projects and further develop my literary voice, I changed my views on success, and began to understand that it could mean many things, not just the material. For example, I won a human rights essay contest for my entry about the mental health implications of “gifted and talented” programs; that is a success! I committed to Emerson College for Writing, Literature and Publishing for this coming fall; that’s a success. Ironically, the essay that got me in talked about my growth in considering “success” as a writer. With that being said, my college bill is estimated to be around sixty thousand dollars a year, and this opportunity would give me the opportunity to continue writing, to someday work in Boston as a published author, with this manuscript being the first of many. At Emerson, I also plan to do several internships for publishing experience; I chose this program, specifically, because of both strategy and enjoyment of the subject matter. Emerson takes a year of my college credits, and has a special 4+1 program to get my Master’s in only 1 year, saving a third of my expenses. This shows that I have examined my costs and have chosen the best path, and am confident this money would go where it is needed most. Outside of writing, I also call my various extracurricular activities a success, especially in balancing them with schoolwork and a busy schedule. To be a well-rounded individual, having multiple interests and skill sets is crucial to applying diverse knowledge to the real world. For example, I am taking a civics elective my senior year to better understand advocacy in the small-town environment. Hazel, from my manuscript, engages in multiple kinds of protest after the firing of her mom, and knowing a legal standpoint helps keep whatever nonfictional information included realistic to if my book took place in the concurrent world, as the genre states (contemporary fiction). I deem this a success in using my knowledge from class to apply to my writing, which I actually did not do the first time writing it; this shows growth in responsibility and an acknowledgement of the things my book depends on to someday be published, which is definitely successful in terms of personal growth. In short, success for me is defined as the personal growth that inspires your goals, whether big or in-the-making. While I intend to be a published author during the time I study at Emerson College, I will take this new notion of success in recognizing my accomplishments leading up to the current place in my writing journey, and use this money to balance the costs of higher education whilst thriving as a future novelist and literary creative.

I find mental health to be oftentimes under-researched; when I was young, I always knew something was wrong with how my brain worked, but I did not hear the term “Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder” until I was fourteen. I had recently joined a new sports team and found myself fixing on one particular mistake I made in unscrewing a bolt. I wouldn’t have made an appointment for assessment unless my mom had brought it up. Sure, lying on the sofa for three hours and repeating the same memory over and over was my “normal,” but not everyone’s. That communication with my mom helped me gauge a better image of what mental health should look like if mental conditions did not exist. Once I got that diagnosis, I started to better understand myself; why I had a fear of watching new movies, why I liked my food one way, why I had intrusive thoughts that surfaced for weeks despite my suppressing them. And once my medication started, I found myself able to let go of some of the less-healthy compulsions with therapy. For example, I felt immense guilt whenever I had money, thinking of documentaries about poverty, and some of my peers who had to be more conscious. And so, I often asked my mom several times if I could give her back the money, even when it was my own. When she affirmed that my spending did not hurt anyone else, I pretended to believe her, and mindlessly bought clothes, books, slimes, and squishies. This disassociation, and lack of fear, had been associated with the spending. Hence, it became compulsive. Nowadays, I can walk into a store and take great pride in saying: “I can browse without feeling the urge to spend, nor feel guilty of being here.” I have also learned to embrace the healthier parts of my OCD. In terms of academics, I have found systems of studying and organization of my assignments that have worked for years. The benefit of being thorough was having me subconsciously sorting my likes and dislikes when I was little, which aided in how I would act in school and not be uncomfortable with my methods of learning. I knew I learned best through interaction, and therefore opted to take AP Seminar, which consisted of three core projects that centered around communication. I also gathered that I prefer math to science, as math has more concrete rules that are not up for debate (e.g. the pythagorean theorem). Hence, I took Advanced Calculus 1&2 my senior year at the University of Connecticut. Going into Emerson College this coming fall for undergraduate, I aim to take these parts of myself with me, both the good and bad of OCD, and apply what I now understand about myself to my new schedule and location. I still give myself the goal to get straight As, with the exception of my science gen-ed, and to give myself enough time to do my daily morning routine of Wordle and Duolingo. As a Writing, Literature and Publishing major, I also hope to help others with my condition through writing. Had I seen an example of how my brain worked as a child, I might have been able to get help earlier, even if I did not know the term “Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder” or what tics and phobias were. In fact, I plan to take courses out of their “Health and Social Change” major to learn how to best express these ideas through literature and media. I find that fostering a community of people with similar situations, both positive and negative, leads to a rejuvenating type of self-growth, and I hope to ease towards this goal for the future.

Before joining crew (rowing), I never considered myself an athlete. I was barely five feet and on the skinnier side from an undiagnosed eating disorder. On a whim, I joined crew when I heard my cousin was helping run it. Practices were every day for the duration of Spring. I learned the difference between bow and stern, how to grip an oar so it would not slip, the physics behind lifting the boats from their shelves. Something still felt off, though.. Every time I held the oar, I felt myself always disassociate from my surroundings, losing the competitive mentality that I otherwise used as motivation. On another whim, I inquired into coxing. The coxswain was the brain of the boat; a small, skinny person (to fit in the cox seat) who called drills and steered the boat while everyone else rowed, but still worked out on land with the rest of the team. I had advanced to varsity after just one season of crew, so remained with the varsity girls. Their normal coxswain was recovering from surgery so it was both convenient and not, because she was responsible for training new coxes, but I was also given substantially more boat time. Unfortunately, without any training, I had to wing it. My first competition, our oars crashed into another boat’s, causing us to lose the race; a grave mistake that would completely define me. I was their first cox to “crash,” and errors became a whole cox’s personality to the rowers. There was a strong need for trust between the two, and breaking that could be considered worse than breaking the boat itself; because why would someone listen to you when they do not trust you? Evidently, without the trust in place, verbal altercations started. When I would call an order, I began doubting myself, so they did too. Later into the same season, my boat requested another cox. To their dismay, she was still in surgery, which became my fault too. I quit the following season. I had learned so much from crew. The next fall, I tried to forget everything. That was, until a crew friend approached me during math class. He and I had gotten acquainted through coxing, ironically. He periodically coxed the novice boys when their cox was absent. “We need a coxswain.” He said. I scoffed, as they had several. It was then explained that he had recently joined a second crew team: Coventry Lake Community Rowing (CLCR). Because they were a community team, there was less emphasis on perfection. It turned out their head coach had seen me coxing at a previous competition and asked for me. I almost said no. It was low stakes, and even a bit flattering that she noticed me, though I sometimes wonder if I agreed because I just really missed crew, and felt like there was too much unsaid after I left. Looking back, I know that to be true, indefinitely. More so when CLCR’s head coach offered to coach me personally afterwards. Sure, the race was imperfect at best, but what ended up selling me was when she immediately gathered our boat together after the race to debrief. Rumors had traveled, so they were not thrilled at first, but she was a stickler, and gave any complainer push-ups. Today, I am going into my third season with CLCR, and I plan to coach them this coming summer. And after that, going to Boston for college, I go with a newfound excitement to pursue professional crew, thanks to the support they have given me.

I’m Nadia, a senior at Edwin O. Smith High School, with a passion for social justice and literature. One topic I have explored in my creative endeavors is bullying; writing realistic examples of what bullying looks like in our generation who spends more time than any other generation on digital and social media. Where physical and verbal bullying is somewhat explored in cinema, cyberbullying has not received the same attention. A YA Fiction manuscript I wrote my freshman year, which I plan to edit and publish during my time as a writing major, centers around main character Hazel, who looks to take justice against the town’s residing oligarchical family after they fire a school faculty member for standing up for herself. Hazel, who understands first-hand what bullying and cyber-bullying can do to a person’s mentality, knows better than anyone that self defense is hardly a reason for punishment. In fact, the very nephew of the person who fired her principal was the boy who sexually harassed her during her freshman year of high school. As a junior, she often reflects back on his advances, sexist comments, and creepy DMs; especially when he continues to haunt her online. This manuscript takes on the trauma from bullying and cyberbullying in the modern age, embracing how society continues to shift to digital, but how one’s mental health is still as impacted as if it happened in front of their very eyes. Aside from writing, I am part of two honors societies: National Honor Society (NHS) and World Language Honor Society (WLHS), joining both as sophomores. For my senior year, I was elected Service Coordinator of NHS and President of WLHS, meaning I am in charge of the scheduling and meetings of both. Specifically, for NHS, I reach out to several different local organizations and nonprofits a week to inquire about service opportunities for the members, as 16 hours of service are required per semester and one chapter project. For WLHS, cultural events remain a focus in favor of tutoring. My favorite event is the annual world-language dinner where each member is responsible for a dish from their background, and all families are encouraged to come. Last year, I brought my mom and grandparents, and a tin of my dad’s Persian baklava. While families and intermingling, music in all languages is playing from our orchestra and various independent singers from Edwin O. Smith. My own hours come from two main areas: cat volunteering and tutoring. I work weekly as a head volunteer at my local shelter with special needs, senior, and traumatized/shy cats, to socialize and promote them for adoption. I also photograph them for their newsletter and online website. In terms of tutoring, I specialize in math (Algebra 1 through Calculus 2) and English (any class), but periodically also work with Spanish students across all levels. Going into college this fall, I hope to continue to advocate for an end to bullying and cyberbullying through my writing, especially as I pursue English in university and learn more about the digital aspects of the publishing industry, and how to write detailed documentation on bullying in various environments and what is and is not allowed (a subsect of professional writing), by ethical definition and by law. Using my volunteering experience, I hope to take my social and communicative skills with me to thrive as a writer with my passion for equal treatment in education, and in any other workplace.

If I could choose one franchise to set as the standard for book-to-film adaptations, I would say “The Hunger Games” trilogy without a doubt. It was September of 7th grade and I was recommended to try the dystopian genre, especially with the release of Panem’s prequel featuring the very antagonist of said series. This world revolves around main character Katniss Everdeen, who takes the place of her sister in a sadistic survival contest put on by the power-hungry ruling city of their continent (the Capitol). Every year, two children from an outside district are chosen to compete to the death, with the winner given a small reward and infinite, deadly fame upon winning. Used to pretty faeries and evil witches, I found it particularly tricky to envision a world where one could create a whole world inside a bubble through the innovative technology of the Capitol. The movie, however, painted a carbon copy of the scenes described in the book, and even had me going back to put images to the details used. For example, in the introductory scene to best-friend Gale, the Capitol sent over an aircraft resembling a hot air balloon to oversee that year’s Hunger Games, but I could not separate it from a literal hot air balloon. So, imagine my surprise, and clarity when I saw the giant white, almond-shaped plane. After behind-the-scenes footage was released, it was evident that the aircraft was never actually there, but merely a product of CGI. Other uses of CGI include various types of Hunger Games mutts, fireballs, and supply drones. All are used as deterrents and benefits to Katniss winning, as included from the Capitol. However, what is most incredible about this notion is that while every use of technology is evident to serve a purpose other than just being show-y, the antagonists in the book are doing just the opposite - showing off their wealth in technological advancements as a show of power and oppression to the districts. Somehow, both coincide together while still being differentiable, as written by “The Hunger Games” author: Suzanne Collins. In fact, the only instance within the three books that was actually left out, where it impacted the plot, was from the second installment: “Catching Fire” where the following Hunger Games takes place. That was where the Capitol decided to raid Katniss’s home district as a show of power. As she is hunting on private property, she rushes to get back over the dividing fence before they could catch her, breaking a foot in the process of climbing. While this scene was explicitly excluded, the raid still happened, and there was no disturbance to the plot. Lastly, I can, with confidence, attribute this all to having the author as a core member of the screenwriting and production teams of her trilogy. Research has drawn the conclusion that even adaptations that differ much from their originals are more successful if their writer/s are a part of the transition, as they are the first to build the worlds, and should be the next to evolve them, if they wish. As an English major and aspiring author, her inclusion makes me feel seen, and affirms that authors, producers and directors can come together to make a stunning dystopian adaptation.

Albert Einstein once said that “creativity is intelligence having fun.” As a creative writer, I try to mirror this viewpoint in my works, in the classroom and going into college. My literary voice is satirical with elements of pop culture, and aims to represent fresh ideas through smart, unusual pairings. I find that audiences tend to pay attention to important topics (e.g. mental health) when they’re on the edge of their seat. For example, one of my favorite stories centers around a stressed physics student who uses cockroaches to calm her public-speaking anxiety. Art is a crucial form of self-expression, and helped me form my identity throughout my teenage years. I understand that, for some people, censorship still exists in other areas of life. Art forms can serve as a means of showing our identities and values without fear of repercussion. If, say, I wanted to advocate for closing the wage gap, I might write a poem in two voices. If I wanted to take pride in my hard-working single mother, I might write a memoir or ode (praise poem). Through my studies at Edwin O. Smith High School, I took three creative writing classes, which exposed me to particular genres of writing, as well as writing contests. I published my first poem - “Someday I Believe” - about cosmetic standards through a flier distributed in that class. These courses, outside of deepening my understanding of literature, provided me with the opportunities to promote my writing to other organizations I might someday work for, deepening my understanding of the field as well; oftentimes, they required a cover letter and author biography. For the future, I hope to continue writing my current manuscript about a girl who compulsively day-dreams about solving climate change, and join a writing group to share ideas with fellow creatives. I had previously interned as a nonprofit writer for The Borgen Project, a global organization fighting poverty, and worked with a team of editors to send out weekly articles on international issues such as heart disease in the Philippines or innovative terrain-wheelchairs from SafariSeat. As writing can be applied to many jobs, I also want to explore content writing and screenwriting, to further apply my literary voice. This winter, I have committed to Emerson College for their Writing, Literature and Publishing (WLP) program, with the goal to further immerse myself in the arts and be a published author and novelist. What stood out to me about this program was their emphasis on extracurricular involvement and internship opportunities. In fact, they offer 4 credits for interning and/or joining a club at the institution; and since much of the WLP faculty are still active in their fields, internships are easier to acquire. One opportunity I found particularly exciting was their semester-long program with Harper Collins where select students are offered mentors from the publishing house to prepare them for the publishing industry. And I know that wherever I will end up in Boston, I am forever grateful for the arts opportunities that inspired my passion to write.

I didn’t yet know the term “social butterfly” but I knew I liked being around people all the time. Even if friends were sparse, I was raised in a multigenerational household so when I wasn’t with my mom, I was with her parents. They collectively raised me from diapers to textbooks. Though normal to me, I acknowledge that others can struggle with finding a community, and might be raised in circumstances making it difficult to find others. I hold myself to the belief that those with some form of privilege should work to make sure we’re all on an even playing field. As a writing major at Emerson College, I hope to someday be a bestselling author, with the goal to create characters my audience can consider to be akin to that community I grew up with. Though fictional, they don’t judge, and sometimes acceptance is what community is all about. From my own experiences, I tend to write in the perspectives of individuals in their teenage years with some form of mental health/conformity issue. One example from high school was in a local poetry reading. Earlier that year, I published my first poem - “Someday I’d Believe” - in Appelley Publishing’s 2024 collection, and decided to officially share it with some of my classmates. The poem was about learning to love your natural beauty, even if outside forces make that difficult; in this case, the cosmetics industry. The following day, I got an email from a peer who’d been feeling weighed down by a beauty standard on her Instagram page, and said “Someday I’d Believe” helped her feel less alone. Going into college, I hope to form new communities, both fictional and with college friends, and have already made several chats with other admits to share and discuss financial resources, inspiring my next short story to be finances-related. Part of the reason I chose Emerson College, of all writing programs, was their emphasis on ‘meeting your people’ and using their collective support to thrive in the arts and communication industries. With the personal goal of helping my readers find community through writing, my end goal is to create impact through literature.

Writing follows no rules. Being gifted with a wild imagination as a kid was much the same. I could dream up whatever absurd character came to mind, without fear of them being invalid or too far from reality. I started writing stories about these individuals - dragons who spoke English, skeletons eating ice cream, ghosts bathing in gravy and marshmallows - when I was four and could confidently hold a pencil. And when I told them to my grandparents, they listened, and I didn’t have to defend their existence. Fast forward to high school, that passion for stories was reignited during my freshman-year English class, but not for the reasons you think. We were deep into our classics unit, and I found myself going back to that little me who reveled in hyperbole, writing the types of books I wished to read, even if they were just ten printer pages with a precarious staple. I began to picture where I fit into the literary world among the greats like Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, and Robert Frost. Hence, I decided to not hold back, trying out various styles of writing, from haikus to flash fiction to even a full-length manuscript spanning three hundred pages. Specifically in my junior year of high school, I wanted to get my voice out to the world. My creative writing teacher recommended I try my hand at a local writing competition, emailing a digital flier of UConn’s (University of Connecticut’s) Student Writers Contest. Until then, I had only shared academic and technical essays, as there was that safety bubble where I knew my MLA Citations were good, my sentence structure digestible, so my writing was therefore ‘quality.’ Submitting creative work was a whole nother ballpark. You expose your inner voice at the risk that your peers might not like it. Like with my childhood stories, I followed my intuition of “all or nothing.” The end result was by-far the goofiest thing I’d produced: a six-page writing extravaganza about a stressed college student fighting her social anxiety via cockroaches. Imagine my shock when I won the contest a month later. Since then, I have also won several publications for poems relating to mental health, and can walk away from high school confident the writing industry is where I need to be; not because of that extra validation, but because of the self growth combined with the literary growth that pushes me to express myself beyond the ‘normal.’ Because writing has never tried to fit into that box. Like a pleasant lemonade, it fills whatever shape you deem fit. That specific roach story stays at the forefront of my mind as I committed to Emerson College’s Writing, Literature & Publishing program, with hopes to get my Bachelor’s in said field. My end goal is to be a published author, channeling that goofiness into more Young Adult Fiction pieces; and choosing a department known for their emphasis on internships and industry experience is how I will learn more about the editing and publishing process, to both produce successful writing and get a insider’s point of view on how to make my work stand out in a crowd. Though I consider writing a life-long hobby, my full-fledged commitment to it begins now. The high school prologue has concluded, but the story of my life has just begun.

Being the sole responsibility of one person can be daunting. Some people might shy away, but not my mom. Whenever she is given a challenge, it lights a fire under her and only pushes her to work harder. My mom taught me the two fundamentals of life that I hope to bring with me once I begin college this coming fall: the reward of hard work, but also thinking critically. Since both are so different, yet intertwined, I learned to apply them to any given circumstance, whether that be paying my taxes, voting for an elected official, or even choosing between cereal brands in the grocery store. During my freshman year, after her twelve-hour workdays, my mom would keep me company while I finished my homework. One night, after my first college search, I approached her about the cost. She’d sat me down, and told me her story: Mom had gone to school at American University for international relations and pre-law. She took university classes during high school, which saved a semester. She also worked part-time via work study, freeing up money otherwise spent on housing or textbooks. After five years, mom graduated with a bachelor’s and a masters, allowing for a higher salary once she got her first full-time job. Fast-forward to a decade later, after having me, mom relocated to her childhood town, the rural crevice of CT in which I’d been raised ever since, and got her second masters in education from Eastern Connecticut State University, taking online courses while also caring for me (I vaguely remember attending her graduation ceremony). And so, after listening to mom, I understand that, yes, the road ahead would be steep, but hearing my role model’s success only pushed me to want to succeed alongside her. And so, we made a college plan, tweaked as I narrowed down my college search. It was from that story that I learned those two fundamentals. Mom was a fighter. She took the tough classes, transferring credits, and working to not only earn her degrees but get the best possible value behind them. That is where the critical thinking comes in, another form of work in a way. There are always going to be college resources, but choosing the ones with the best impact on both my finances and well-being are the end goal. With that being said, I’ve decided to get a part-time job as a textbook associate - both with a doable wage and relating to my major. I have also committed to the college with the best program for me. After doing the math, I knew that while there were cheaper options, the career opportunities through internships and their alumni network would give me the experience to start at a higher pay grade, just like mom did. While everyone has a different approach to college, I do try to provide my peers with the resources similar to what mom showed me. Hence, as an elected officer of my high school’s National Honor Society, in charge of providing opportunities to its members, I share helpful websites to be available for the students that need them like I did. That way, everyone still has the room to make their own informed decisions, and know they can have a role model to rely on, just as I did.

Write my book. Find an agent. Do some edits. Publish it. Make bank. That was my plan. Not very realistic, but I was fourteen and very stubborn. When I signed up for creative writing class my sophomore year, I promised myself I’d get my manuscript ready to send out in that time. It was a 300-page thing with a maze of a plot, and little me was obsessed to the point that my whole writing-personality revolved around it. That all changed once my writing teacher - Mrs.A - suggested I submit to a contest for a local university. I’d otherwise focused solely on the manuscript, which now had a cover letter and plot summary. Since our class would take a field trip to said university, I thought it uniform to submit along with my peers. It was legit, and seemed a good way to get my voice out there. Plus, Mrs.A had always put her unwavering support in my dream to be a published author, so she deserved the same. I signed up for the novel-writing section and uploaded the first chapter. Before announcing the winners, we attended the university under our high school for said field trip, to go to their in-person literary festival, where we were randomly assigned creative writing students to work alongside. Since it was an improvisational workshop, I couldn’t work on my book, more or less to my advantage. The activity was simple - write a comedic poem. It brought me back to lazy afternoons drawing with my grandmother. I was her only grandchild living in close vicinity at the time; very close, since I literally lived with her, my grandfather, and my mom. I’d had a phase with skeletons after finding some deer bones in the woods, so she always drew them for me doing human activities; playing on the swings, handing out balloons, drinking sodas. I found out later that she actually had a phobia of skeletons. The guilt and hilarity mixed into something woefully ironic that made for the perfect comedic poem. It was my first crack at poetry, which allowed me to explore the contours of my writing voice to a fuller extent. While I did have to brush aside the manuscript, there was a certain excitement into writing without knowing what the heck I’d get. With polishing the book, I’d long ago memorized the plot, characters, etc, and had missed that joy of spontaneity from the writing process. I didn’t win the writing contest, but ever since branching out, I never stopped holding back. I’ve written short stories, odes, scenes of plays, op-eds, and have begun looking to transfer these skills into a writing career in Boston before someday selling the manuscript. In short, thanks to my creative writing teacher’s support and resources in the three years since taking her course, she has opened my eyes further into the writing world, and has given me the drive to continue to take on what this field will offer me once I delve into my writing bachelor’s this coming fall.

Fans of Love Island love a good test, and some contestants just can’t wait to try their relationships in the real world. While the current challenge “Dirty Laundry” does a great job of giving the couples a peek behind the curtain of their pair’s personal life, it needs a sequel. Enter: The Three-Day Getaway Challenge! Here’s how it works: the couples want to brave life outside the villa, and now they can! Each couple that makes it to the finale must spend three days back in their old lives, modeling what a real day would be like to them. The couples would pick straws. The one with the shorter straw accompanies their partner to their house to live with them for the duration of the challenge. No set wake-up times, no fridge full of snacks, no guardrails whatsoever. While they shouldn’t be expected to return to all aspects, like jobs, their coexistence is the main focus. For example, someone should get groceries, or look after the pet, or worst of all: leave because it turns out their counterpart lied about their million-dollar mansion in Las Vegas! This step is crucial towards not only testing their compatibility, but giving us - the fans - a proper look into whether or not the couple’s compatibility is more than just pretty words. Everyone knows actions speak louder, if we want to quote cliches that are overspoken for a reason. After the three days, the couples would return to the villa for the events of the finale: their last dates, writing of vows, and, of course, the announcing of the winners of Love Island. I chose this challenge not only because of the mutual benefit of the viewers and couples, but also because of the stigma many reality dating shows face; that the couples were never that serious and break up just months into their real lives. The Three-Day Getaway Challenge gives a glimpse into if this is really true. Heck, it might make some of us believe a bit more in on-screen love, should it work out. Which is, after all, what Love Island is really about.

If I had no word limit, I’d tell you about my obsessions, how I hate certain numbers, how eggs make me cringe. But I don’t; so long story short, I have OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). It’s not the cute condition people think it is. While I do like sorting and cleaning things, my brain doesn’t seem to give me much choice over when I do, and to what extent. I could be translating poems for my Advanced Spanish Composition course or memorizing algebraic formulas when Boom! I’d have to go to check that the oven is off and the doors are locked. OCD and academics are like oil and water. It’s the ever-present deterrent to accomplishing, well, anything. Fortunately, there exist resources now that help people like me. The first month after my diagnosis was spent doing research. I found the clickbait stuff, like with any other Google search, but also loads and loads of articles detailing my symptoms, potential medical treatments, meds, and even resources to meet others with OCD. I settled on a mix of medication and therapy. Through extensive discussion and therapeutic writing techniques, I have managed to dull some of my obsessions. I can go into bookstores and say: “Wow! That cover is wicked cool, but that doesn’t mean I have to buy it.” Other than obsessions, I even feel the urge to conquer some of my phobias. However, with my biggest phobia being a fear of change, college will certainly be interesting. Hence, my therapist and I have begun prepping. I recently committed to Emerson College’s Writing, Literature & Publishing program, and have since scoped the place out. I have memorized the nearby restaurants to know who serves food I’ll eat, as well as other places like banks and pharmacies in case I need a refill or want to cash a paycheck. That technique, embracing my OCD, is the secret weapon in my arsenal towards settling into college whilst simultaneously prioritizing my mental health. Oppressing my obsessions just makes them grow until they’re hovering over me like geese. Perhaps if I was an animal science major I’d like that simile. Being a writing major, I’ll also prioritize myself through my craft. If I find myself slipping down that dark OCD-hole, I’ll write about it, not bottle it up until I can see my therapist; because, after all, moving to another state will mean finding a new therapist, and self-sufficiency is my end goal once I graduate.

If I had no word limit, I’d tell you about my obsessions, how I hate certain numbers, how eggs make me cringe. But I don’t; so long story short, I have OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). It’s not the cute condition people think it is. While I do like sorting and cleaning things, my brain doesn’t seem to give me much choice over when I do, and to what extent. I could be translating poems for my Advanced Spanish Composition course or memorizing algebraic formulas when Boom! I’d have to go to check that the oven is off and the doors are locked. OCD and academics are like oil and water. It’s the ever-present deterrent to accomplishing, well, anything. Fortunately, there exist the resources now that help people like me. The first month after my diagnosis was spent doing research. I found the clickbait stuff, like with any other Google search, but also loads and loads of articles detailing my symptoms, potential medical treatments, meds, and even resources to meet others with OCD. I settled on a mix of medication and therapy. Through extensive discussion and therapeutic writing techniques, I have managed to dull some of my obsessions. I can go into bookstores and say: “Wow! That cover is wicked cool, but that doesn’t mean I have to buy it.” Other than obsessions, I even feel the urge to conquer some of my phobias. However, with my biggest phobia being a fear of change, college will certainly be interesting. Hence, my therapist and I have began prepping. I recently committed to Emerson College’s Writing, Literature & Publishing program, and have since scoped the place out. I have memorized the nearby restaurants to know who serves food I’ll eat, as well as other places like banks and pharmacies incase I need a refill or want to cash a paycheck. That technique, embracing my OCD, is the secret weapon in my arsenal towards settling into college whilst simultaneously prioritizing my mental health. Oppressing my obsessions just makes them grow until they’re hovering over me like geese. Perhaps if I was an animal science major I’d like that simile. Being a writing major, I’ll also prioritize myself through my craft. If I find myself slipping down that dark OCD-hole, I’ll write about it, not bottle it up until I can see my therapist; because, after all, moving to another state will mean finding a new therapist, and self-sufficiency is my end goal once I graduate.

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold - William Carlos Williams Sometimes, things just need to be stated up-front. Williams’s poem, “This is Just to Say,” does just that. This short work from 1934 was renowned for its blatant honesty, something many pieces often stray from, especially historically accredited works. I chose it for that reason; and strongly believe that short pieces have just as much to say, if not more, than those spanning hundreds of pages. With Williams’s direct tone, it leaves the reader free to interpret as they will. Three main observations can be inferred from “This is Just to Say:” 1) The writer apologizes with the intent to atone 2) Simple pleasures are important 3) Oblivion is absent in the presence of greed Verse three opens with the apology in the form of “forgive me.” Note that, rather than in the following three lines, these words are placed at the top, being the first impression of the concluding paragraph. This phrase also takes a wide turn from the second verse, where Williams admits that he knew the person wanted the plums. Once admitted, he tries to reason, subconsciously predicting the person to be mad at him, claiming they were “so sweet and so cold.” A core reason for apology is seeking atonement, the opposite of one’s bad action/s. Therefore, it can be inferred that the placement of his apology, and his defensiveness following such, is caused by his underlying need for atonement from stealing, then eating, the plums. Second, in his transparency, Williams writes “This is Just to Say” in a way that resonates with many audience members. I, for one, have an aunt who eats everyone’s fruit without asking. We never see her enter the kitchen, and are running around, looking for the fruit like headless chickens until one of us spots orange peel under her nails or a raspberry seed between her front teeth. In resonating with his readers, through a relatable course of actions, said actions are highlighted in their normalcy. Eating a plum, unless it’s poisoned, is not an action that typically brings out a serious emotion; nor is his language particularly artistic, when compared to poems like “The Raspberry Field” by Karin Gottshall where she sets the scene with lines like “berries think as bumblebees” or “loops of bramble.” Hence, much of the focus on the reader goes towards the actions, not how they’re being done, compared to, or otherwise. I argue this was done on purpose, to highlight the eating of “the plums that were in the icebox” as a simple, standalone act. As previously stated, he did say why he ate them, arguing “they were delicious.” Williams, several times, confirms the tone of his piece to be happy, especially in response to his actions; he wants the reader to sympathize, to think the plums were good too. By doing so, he celebrates a simple pleasure in life: eating. Lastly, my final interpretation of “This is Just to Say” is about the conflict of the piece: that the speaker stole and ate the plums. Williams was aware of the other person’s own ownership, but chose to fulfill his own greed (assuming him to be the speaker). He was the least bit oblivious to the other’s wish, demonstrating the conflict’s deeper root-cause - greed, and what it means for the pair’s dynamic; that Williams puts himself before the needs of the other person. This conflict, and outcome, is modeled in numerous films, such as Oceans 8 and Robin Hood, though through the eyes of the speaker, and original owner of the plums. All of these characters know, when stealing, how their actions will impact those around them, but choose themselves nonetheless. I chose this piece because I also write straight-forwardly, and sometimes want to leave my readers interpreting the deeper meaning/s of the scenes I write. I found mine and Williams’s voices overlap in tone, in that wry sense of humor that all dad jokes have, and hope to study more of his poetry to better understand the crafting of layers (surface-level to the earth’s core) of literary arts.

I'm Nadia, a high school junior from a small rural town in Connecticut. I have a mixed heritage: German and Slovak on my mom's side and Iranian and Arabic on my dad's. Due to this, I have citizenships in the US (where I was raised), Canada (where I was born), and Iran (where my heritage is partially from). This has inspired me to explore the world's unique cultures and how they fit into literature. I began writing in kindergarten, when all my classmates had nap time. I wrote about animal and plant species, and became fascinated with their diversity. Writing was a steadfast outlet for sharing my thoughts through characters my peers and I could relate to. I also felt a certain comfort in being able to remember my thoughts in the order that I imagined them, and then being able to refine them into stories. By the time I was in 6th grade, I had fully decided being a writer was the right career for me. Throughout my childhood, my mom took my on trips every summer to various continents, as she also shared a passion for culture and was an International relations majors. Some of my favorite trips include Morocco, The Galapagos Islands, and Greece. This further motivated me to create a diverse cast of characters for every book. My current short story focuses on the expectations women faced in the 1920s and the expectation that they have to marry. Another work, a short free-verse poem, described the importance of remembering deceased relatives. Literature has benefited my life in the sense that I made me feel like I could make a difference in this world as I come to further understand how the world functions and grow a passion for social justice, and, at the same time, let my imagination take control and lead me down whatever path it plans. It awakened an excitement in my life I didn't know I needed until I experienced it. With this scholarship, I can further show my dedication to majoring in writing and it will kickstart my college journey to getting my degree. I hope to achieve being a published author in a New England urban area and inspire young minds that neither their culture, nor their background, defines who they are rather than their accomplishments and character. I want to ultimately use the power of literature and share my opinions on modern social justice issues that may not receive as much attention as is beneficial (e.g. the wage gap between certain ethnic groups and genders), and I hope this award can help me empower my readers to follow their dreams as well.

I'm Nadia, a high school Junior from the small, rural town of Ashford. I was raised in a multigenerational household, with my mom and grandparents (and cats). I had a prior insight into majoring in pre-med in middle school. However, after taking Biology freshman year, I knew it was the opposite of what I enjoyed. It occurred to me that I also gravitated towards this career path because it felt more financially stable, as opposed to what I could actually find myself thriving in. In the midst of studying for my first set of midterms freshman year, I began to let my mind wander. Fast-forward 2 months later, I had a fully-typed manuscript and felt a fresh sense of motivation and accomplishment, and for the first time, an excitement for higher education. It was then that I knew I wanting to major in writing, with a potential minor in literature or publishing. I began writing in kindergarten. When everyone had nap time, my mind wandered as it did in midterms. I often found myself bringing markers and paper to school to illustrate and write small books to put in the classroom bookshelf. From there, I wrote sporadicly until 7th grade when school became more time-consuming. It began as a hobby, but I never thought to apply it later as a career choice. Like with writing, I also began reading young - in 3rd grade after discovering fantasy books. I generally stuck to these until 9th grade, when I also read several romance and dystopian novels. This helped me craft and find my voice and refine it into what it is today. I typically write 3rd person past tense fiction works with social justice aspects and/or themes, but have also found a recent passion in philosophical poetry in free verse. What I love most about writing is that I get to let my voice flow and experiment without any clear boundaries. I never know what I'll end up with, and the more I write, the more I feel like this is what I was meant to do. On the side, I've also found hobbies in scrapbooking and photography, but plan to center on writing in college. While, yes, it does not confirm financial stability, I've learned a writing degree can be used in numerous ways. I hope to begin working in a publishing or media branch before full-time writing. I aim to, in the mean time, submit to as many writing contests as I am able and focus on finding an agent for my current YA fiction manuscript.

As an avid 'Stranger Things' fan from the very beginning, I've watched (and rewatched) the series for several years, taking note of every little detail that makes the show one of a kind. As many fans can relate, I own a copious amount of Stranger Things shirts, as well as the official posters, and even a rare Amazon necklace. From the small-town 80s vibe, to the exuberant fantasy elements, to the nerve-wrenching plot twists, this show has it all and then some. When looking at fighting, and conquering, an unknown threat, my dream team is perhaps rather inspired by the characters' abilities when together, as opposed to alone: Will Byers, Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair. These 3 boys have proven their friendship countless times, like when they burned the vines under Hawkins in season 2. My reasoning for this is that, at least in recent seasons, they've fought separately, and these battles have all been unsuccessful in some manner (e.g. Max's paralysis). I chose these 3 excluding Mike Wheeler, because his place is best with El, and they seem like more of a package deal in battle, giving each other pick-me-ups and motivation, also counting that they can't fight nearly as well if they're unsure whether their counterpart is completely safe. The same goes for Dustin, Will, and Mike. Due to Joyce's moving of Will, El, and Johnathon, Will has had months of separation from his inner circle, not to mention his stark realization that he's in love with Mike, but that Mike will forever love El. He needs a pick-me-up of his own, and some time with friends would both lift his spirits and help the boys fight this new threat; because, let's be honest, Will has repeatedly gotten the short end of the stick and needs to emerge victorious, and hopefully with no link to the upsidedown. As for Lucas and Dustin, they have steadfast knowledge of fighting mythical creatures. Lucas thinks of the most original and abstract methods of defense, such as his wrist rocket and gunpower fireworks in Starcourt. Dustin, on the other hand, has documented and identified the majority of the creatures they fight, and continues being the brains of the operation. When you think about it, Will's raw emotion, Lucas's strength, and Dustin's smarts are the ultimate battle-package! What they lack in superpowers, they make up for in raw determination and complimentary fighting skills worthy of their own numbers.

U.S. President George W. Bush once said: "there could be no definition of a successful life that does not include service to others." This quote is important because it highlights the belief that a community is only built to its full potential when there are many helping hands. For example, a school must have funders, builders, and later: teachers, to operate. Growing up in the small, rural town of Ashford, community is something I was no stranger to. Through my close bond with my grandparents, I got to know my town from concerts, church groups, and other social events. When it came time for high school, I began recording official community service hours in March of my sophomore year (last Spring). High school was most beneficial to becoming a part-time volunteer year-round as I opted to join NHS (National Honor Society) and WLHS (World Language Honor Society), requiring 52 service hours, collectivly, each school year. The majority of my hours come from being a head volunteer at my local cat sanctuary, where my mom and I socialize traumatized/shy/senior cats for eventual adoption. After each session, we're required to send detailed reports on the behavior of the cats we visited. Being a head volunteer means taking night shifts, feeding, changing the litter, and cleaning the rooms of the cat houses. I have completed 55 service hours for them since starting in March. Other hours from this year include 5 from football field clean-ups and 8 from Spanish tutoring. Being more involved in supporting my community has put life into a different perspective, as community work gives me prior job experience before going off to college, and the dynamics are much more friendly as everyone is there by choice. While I'm putting in extra hours to fulfill the goals of both honor societies, community engagement is more than just a number, or a title for a resume. It's an output for personal reflection as much as, say, a therapy session. Brushing and coaxing out some of the shyer cats taught me to be patient, which has, in turn, helped me regulate my emotions when I begin to lose calm. It has also allowed me to interact with employees and gain rewarding social skills that can be applied in the workforce. In my opinion, having a spirit of excellence, especially in relation to serving my community, is something I've come to learn this last year because I'm motivated to give back, without doing it for the sole purpose of recognition. I've also done a variety of opportunities, some school-oriented and some personal. In the future, I hope to apply this learning when I intern in college, as I will continue to use the valuable tools I've learned throughout school and after. As earlier said, a community is built from many people; and that community must be kept lively through the tending of its individuals.

Growing up in a single-parent household, both my mom and I had to reach out to relatives for extra support, more so my mom when I was growing up. After my mom and I moved back to her hometown, after my parents divorced, she persistently tried to find both a home and a job within our price range. Coincidently, her parents still lived in her childhood home. As I was 3 at the time, and they had more free time, it was thought best for them to help raise me as she continued to search for work. Fast forward a few months later, my mom decided she needed a third degree, as her others were in less demand in rural areas. Due to partially spending her time with me, her master's took double the time, and I even remember attending the graduation ceremony with my grandparents. The half of the time not spend with my mom was with my grandma and grandpa. They raised me to pick cucumbers from the garden, make homemade pastries, and hunt for shells on the beach. In a way, they're my second parents. Now fast forward to the present, and my mom has a steady job with a commute longer than my assigned textbook chapters. As I'm now in high school and have events every week, my grandparents have to step in again. Every crew (rowing) practice, they have to pick me up at the local lake, and the same goes for the majority of clubs I participate in (e.g. GSA). Growing up in a multi-generational household taught me the dependency we exert on each other; and that when you're in need, your family are the ones who help you. This is not to say your blood-related family exclusively, but your inner circle, whether they're family, friends, or even family of friends or vice versa. My grandparents, in their generous attempts to baby me, also showed me the power of giving. Now, when given cash for Christmas or my birthdays, I immediately decide to donate some to charity, or plan whose name I'll donate it. Last year was a pet sanctuary; the year before was world hunger. As I look to the future, I know my mom and "second parents" will guide me every step of the way, and even beyond higher education. They've begun taking me on various college tours, even Maine and upstate New York, which are both 4 hours away (another form of babying). I also receive forwarded scholarships and writing contests, and I plan to major in writing. To sum it up, my grandparents took my mom and I in when we needed the support most, and we've stuck to each other since; my life would inevitably have been much less meaningful without them. This goes to show that with a strong support system in place, everyone achieves their life goals. Therefore, when I graduate college, one of mine is to give them back what they gave to me over the last 13 years of living together.

"I could try every lipstick in every shade, but I'd always feel the same" - Olivia Rodrigo: Pretty Isn't Pretty With Rodrigo's newest album came a slew of songs detailing the teenage experience. What stood out to me about her, besides her being a positive female role model in the 'celebrity bubble,' was how real her songs and their lyrics were. As a pop fan since childhood, many pieces of this genre center around love and more explicit themes related to love. Olivia Rodrigo instead centers on the raw experiences that people go through, and though she doesn't specify the age group, from my experience, many teens can resonate with her words. This lyric (typed above) talks about body confidence, and how she might hide behind makeup to impress others but it doesn't boost her own confidence and perception of herself. As a high schooler, most of my friends wear full facial makeup, which they detailed takes up to a full hour to apply every morning. This requires waking up at 4 a.m. every morning, going off of 4-6 hours of sleep. Witnessing all of this makes me somewhat saddened, as they wear it more for hiding their natural skin blemishes and beauty marks than for artistic persona. This is actually quite common for my age group (teens), especially during those blossoming high school years. One girl bragged about spending several hundred on a new eyeliner palette. Hearing this, I refuse to wear makeup on account that I have neither the time nor the body standards to use it. Sure, there are some facial features I'm not fond of, particularly that bump on my nose, but I reason that if people refuse to associate themselves with someone's real form, they aren't ready for a real acquaintance. These thoughts on the cosmetics industry spurred me to start a research project (further detailed in the research section of my Bold.org bio). I joined AP Research several months ago and am currently writing the beginning quarter of my research report. My topic is facial makeup in proportion to Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD) symptoms in female college students in CT. BDD is a mental condition with heightened anxiety over perceived looks, which includes makeup as a coping mechanism. After extensive research, a study will be conducted in a few months and later reported on in the last half of my paper. What inspired me to take a broader view on the modern uses of makeup, especially in teenagers, was Olivia Rodrigo's GUTS song "Pretty Isn't Pretty" and her unique voice pushing me to think of wearing makeup as a choice, and a bit of an illusion, but not a "need." Modern expectations can push high schoolers to think they must look a certain type of flawless, but her stand against these standards made me feel less alone, and I know others felt this way too. Rodrigo is a star because she truly understands her target audience, and that is something of a gift in modern pop culture.

In middle school, some of my friends wouldn't stop talking about Harry Potter and eventually got me into the universe, and I was not disappointed in the slightest. What I found most distinguishing about this series was that the teenagers depicted were accurate to teenagers in real life, to the messy parts of growing up, to the 'famous' angst, to the wry bits of humor every now and again, and most importantly: multi-layered characters with unique backstories (e.g. Ron and his many brothers and sister). After taking various 'Hogwarts House' quizzes, I always ended up being most likely to be a Ravenclaw, most notorious for being curious and always wanting to learn. At first, I thought there was more to me than my taste for academics, but then I grew to agree more and more with this ultimatum. I find those who tend to focus their time on academics to be widely stereotyped as 'emotionless and introverted', though, like all stereotypes, they never fit the broad spectrum of learners. I, for one, am very emotional (my family can confirm this) and always seem to gain energy when surrounded by my inner circle of friends. All of this is ironic considering one of my goals in life is negating negative social norms and standards. My academic passion is literature and writing. Whilst English and Creative Writing are, by far, my favorite subjects, I still find the rush of adrenaline in studying for a history test or organizing an essay, in the Ravenclaw fashion. As earlier mentioned, my goal in life would be shedding light on standards, but through writing books in unique POVs similar to how the Harry Potter cast was written: accurately with the right retention of sass and spunk. With being a Ravenclaw, I embody the vision of a nerd: glasses and about a thousand books in my backpack contributing to my zero back flexibility; but I also contain various elements and talents that make me 'me', such as my love of scrapbooking and my strange urge to watch Love Island (yes, it's indeed a far throw from YA-Fantasy). Harry Potter character Luna Lovegood is similar, in the sense that she's her authentic self but also maintains the strengths of Ravenclaw (intelligence and creativity) without letting them be interpreted as negative. I feel as though I'm a perfect fit for Ravenclaw in the sense that, yes, I am an empowered academic, but know how this positively defines me, as well as having a strong sense of what my life's purpose is (writing books with characters showing the accuracy and/or damage of stereotypes), which is also heavily associated with the house. All in all, Harry Potter has made me think deeply about my identity (my house AND myself) and has shown me the power and influence the inner-worlds and characters of a book series can bring.

Growing up as a woman taught me a lot of things, but mostly, gender stereotypes. For example, men are expected to not seek help for their mental challenges, while women are assumed to do it all the time. Another version of this is when women who are in pain are assumed to be acting dramatic, while men's pain is either taken more seriously or excludes them from being the toxic ideal of 'real men'. A stereotype I most became acquainted with was dress codes. As a teenager, my body image hasn't been the greatest, but it would surely be better without the horrendously sexist dress codes at my local middle school. Girls weren't allowed to wear a certain length of shorts, or most importantly: never show shoulders. Boys came to school with sweaters with bloody images of skeletons that gave me nightmares. After a very traumatic one one night, I asked a teacher why I wasn't allowed to wear the dress I made with my aunt because my calves would 'distract the boys' but his sweatshirt was distracting me. His response: 'he isn't dressed like that for attention'. It was a bit of a slap in the face that I was assumed to show skin because I was trying to impress my classmates, not that they didn't have adequet AC. I don't know what hurt more, my classmates throwing sexist slurs at me, or the teachers I asked for help who didn't follow through. I didn't understand it at the time, but now I wish those boys had been taught not to stare and not us being taught to cover ourselves up. I understand dress codes have an important purpose, as it would indeed be very bad to be allowed to go to school in a bikini, or even worse - naked, but I feel this utmost purpose has been abused towards female-identifying students. Whilst I do admit gender stereotypes, especially laws supporting these ideas, have significantly improved over time (e.g. Women's Suffrage), there are still ways to further eliminate those norms. With that being said, some solutions could be a more diverse council, with both genders, deciding the dress code and a student survey about said dress codes. A diverse council could ensure a fair set of rules for all students, regardless of gender. In my opinion, freedom of expression is appropriate as long as no gore or explicit images are showing, that goes for nudity too (and yes, some shorts are, in fact, too short). A student survey would also be a helpful service for 'killing two birds with one stone', as it would serve as a reporting system for any incidents relating to the dress code and could also be a way to communicate how students feel about their dress code, giving them a fair amount of say about their enforced dress code.

I dream of someday living in a city and writing bestselling novels, mainly in YA (Young Adult) Fiction, inspiring my readers to reach beyond the established norms of society, but also just giving them characters and worlds to escape to when real life isn't ideal.

@nadia_the_nerd

Mental health is an underrecognized factor in leading a healthy life, meaning it impacts all parts of our journeys, whether it be careers, education, social events, etc. The reason mental health awareness is something most people do not think of is because there has been a lack of accurate education. Many schools, and sometimes even families, teach adolescents to handle their mental health on their own, keeping it personal and locked away as if it is an anomaly and not something millions of people struggle with daily. In fact, it is more normal to have rough patches than to not, as life is never always easy. As a teenager living in this day and age, I did not realize how I was among peers in my battles with mental disorders, and not alone, until my close friends and I decided to talk about it. It started as a normal conversation about school and led to a friend stating she needed to take her meds before dinner. She later mentioned it was for her depression. At that moment, I lightbulb flashed in my head. Several days later, I told her I had depression too, and unlike I predicted, she hugged me. To be honest, I was expecting her to tell me to keep it private, that it was not her burden, and when she did not I almost broke into tears. It felt like an invisible weight was off my shoulders. I was first diagnosed with depression in eighth grade, after various bullying problems and the COVID-19 shutdown. My first symptoms, immense sadness and a deep lack of interest in daily activities, were something that hit me like a rocket. Unfortunately, I went with the female stereotype that I was being dramatic, and I ignored my feelings. When it became too much, I did an internet search. When some of the symptoms came back as possible depression, I finally spoke to my mom. Like my friend in the future, my mom also hugged me and asked what she could do to help. It was really the best possible thing to say because just telling me "it's fine" does nothing when everything was clearly not. Several weeks later, I started seeing a therapist. About a year later, I had cycled through a few and finally found the right one for me. She always pushed me to break down my emotions and examine them to determine whether they were logical, even giving me internal tactics to do when my emotions boiled over. When I began taking medication for my depression, it was clear that my anxiety stretched beyond just sadness. Upon further evaluation, I was also diagnosed with anxiety and panic attacks as well as OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder). From there, my meds were changed to better fit my conditions. To my benefit, these mental health conditions are widely common, and therefore easier than I expected to identify and treat. I became so used to the more "mental" flaws of myself that I even started discussing them with my inner circle of friends during my freshman year of high school. As I had hoped, they also opened up, some having similar conditions including autism and ADHD. Normalizing the healthy discussion of mental challenges helped build my friendships in more personal and close unions. If we had not opened up as we did, I doubt we would all still be as tight-knit as we are now, two years later. As earlier stated, there are normal rough patches. An example of this was during my first evaluation for OCD. Due to a high grade on a Biology final, I was overly cheery and eagerly explained how my hypothetical-OCD symptoms negatively impacted my social life, some of the details I never even felt comfortable writing in my diary. Had I been in less of a positive mood, it goes without question that I would not have said everything I did. My psychiatrist, at the time, was taking notes on the majority of this. Unfortunately, she was not great at listening to my boundaries and leaked the majority of this information to my family, some of whom told me their disdain. When I confronted her about it, she said it was legal because I was a minor. Needless to say, I found a new psychiatrist and tried to put the whole thing behind me. As far as I am concerned, I have nothing to be ashamed about. My OCD is part of me and I will own it even if I do not receive hugs from everyone. Of course, mental health challenges do not always happen at one time either. Upon visiting some of my extended family, I noticed a relapse in my depression and anxiety, and a weight loss following that. It turned out, after this drastic change, that similar things happened with my weight throughout my childhood and tween years, only now examined because of the numbers on the scale. Spring of my sophomore year of high school, I was diagnosed with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder) and began a "group therapy" intensive program to help bring my weight up. Having several types of mental illness highlights that humankind is not perfect, and should not try to be because with imperfections come individuality. Being different and owning it has made my relationship with my friends that much closer, which in turn boosted my levels of happiness. Living with depression, OCD, and ARFID also taught me that we are a diverse people with many traits, and it is almost fascinating how our brains work, how public speaking makes us shrink in on ourselves or how the wrong number combination makes me cringe, and how the whole of this is sometimes considered too private to be normal. It also taught me that openness is key to understanding our unique mental health, and with understanding comes blissful acceptance.

As a reader with social media, I always strayed toward others with a fondness for reading. In middle school, I began experimenting with various genres after a lucky discovery of a children's Greek Mythology series called "Goddess Girls." Reading started as an escape when my personal life got tough, but became a sanctuary for my imagination to fall in love with characters and even imagine myself in their world. What I did find disheartening, though, is how little I was able to relate to some of these characters. As I grew into reading YA (Young Adult) Fiction in junior high, I noticed all the female characters were described along the lines of "stunningly beautiful" or "of perfect mental health" which was not at all what real women are like. These characters were also without the little imperfections that make us human, such as birthmarks, acne, eye bags, and curves, and these things translated into a majority of the art on BookTok and other platforms. It was then that I decided to try out other genres that may be more diverse. I read my first rom-com the summer before my freshman year of high school called "Red, White and Royal Blue" by Casey McQuiston. I first heard of it on Instagram after seeing fanart on an LGBTQ artist's account. From there, Booktok readers left amazing reviews, and by then I was more than ready to branch out from the fantasy genre. As it turned out, I did not know what an impact it would have on me, and brought it on vacation to Alabama without knowing much about it beyond the back-cover blurb and some character fanart. I began reading in the car on the way to get ice cream, making it through the first chapter in minutes, which might sound normal, so I should add that I am a very slow reader. I ended up staying and ignoring the ice cream, despite the summer heat. In a day and a half, the book was done and I was astonished by how unbelievably well-written and diverse it was. The main character of "Red, White and Royal Blue" is a Mexican-American man who is bisexual. His love interest is a gay prince of England. The novel follows an enemies-to-lovers path and details their secret affair over the period of a year. Side characters include a bisexual friend who loves statistics, a female president of the US, and a transgender lesbian secret service agent. The author being part of the LGBTQ+ community themself had a more personal stake in the book and therefore, the representation rang true to many readers, including me: a bisexual woman. My ideal bookshelf has not just LGBTQ rom-coms, but books across all genres with accurate diversity. This could include ethnicity, mental health conditions, etc. Some other books with excellent diversity are "The Charm Offensive" by Alison Cochrun, any series in the "Shadowhunter" world by Cassandra Clare (The Mortal Instruments, etc), and the "King of Scars" duology in the Grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo. All of these books I found from Booktok and Bookstagram after searching for "diverse" books, specifically. "The Charm Offensive" was even hashtagged under a "Red, White and Royal Blue" review because of their similar themes. Booktok, while not starting my love for books, has aided in the search for discovering what books are best fits for me and similar books to those I read and enjoyed. In short, social media platforms are a fundamental part of the reading community and have helped build an overall sanctuary for book lovers, as reading created a sanctuary for me.

With the U.S. divorce rate being between 40-50%, single parents are not uncommon in U.S. households, specifically single moms. As a 16-year-old, I have recently taken on a bigger role in organizing my schedule and filling out paperwork, and even getting a bank account in my own name (international, as you have to be an adult here). Without the support of my immediate family, especially my mom, I would not feel ready to begin life as a college student several years out from now. After my parents' divorce, my mom moved in with her parents to help raise me, as she was still getting her master's in education and could not afford daycare services at the time. Due to convenience, my mother and I remained with my grandparents, all living off her income and their retirement benefits. The early exposure to a multi-generational household made me aware from early on how society functioned, and how building off one another was the best way to thrive without the constant worry of finances. I also learned that my grandma's homemade potato pancakes are second to none. A fear, however, with being raised without seeing my dad more than once a year, was that I would not have any male role models to look up to and I would think the stigma of dads being out of the picture was something all families dealt with. Luckily, my grandpa, my mom's dad, was like a dad to me as well as a grandfather. He and I were always planting and picking vegetables in our garden or going fishing at local ponds. He always caught more fish, as it took me years to learn how to cast the line properly. Growing up in a multi-generational household with a single mom also opened my eyes to how important family support is for parents of recent divorce. I never referred to my mom as a "single mom" because she was never alone in raising me. This should prove a valuable tip for others in similar situations; that if a close family member undergoes a divorce or separation, especially with a child, they should offer their support as my grandparents did. It has taught me, on a more personal level, that they will continue to support me throughout higher education as I slowly leave behind adolescence. Obviously, had I grown up with both parents, I could have made the same assumptions, but being brought up with a single mom showed me that moving on from an unideal situation does not have to be done alone unless you let it.

I am Nadia Haeryfar, a high school student from Ashford Connecticut with a love for reading. As is common with many middle schoolers, reading is something introduced to them, as opposed to a personal discovery. As a child, I never paid attention to books, even less when I was forced to read them. This continued until reading was no longer a "core" element of the elementary school curriculum. In fourth grade, I began exploring reading independently. The difference with choosing reading material at a later age was that more of my personality had developed. I knew my likes - watching cinema, daydreaming, and nature - and what I disliked: anything nonfiction or science-related. With choosing my own books came an onslaught of motivation to digest them without the pressure of overarching benchmarks of education. It made me curious as to if I would have liked reading in prior years had I decided to take it up on my own. All I know now is that cracking open books again was the right decision. As fourth grade continued, I began using the internet to find books. I imbued my love of animals and heroic tales into finding a children's fiction series called "The Rescue Princesses," where the theme of animal saving is literally spelled out in the name. From there, I shied away from children's fiction and took a liking to mythology and romance books in junior high, partially because reading those genres made me feel like an adult in child form. Reading, in general, made me feel additional freedom being an adolescent lacked. With that being said, a book I would highly recommend is "The Charm Offensive" by Alison Cochrun, an LGBTQ Romance novel centered around the blooming romance between a reality TV producer and the show's star. When reading this book, the sense of freedom from reading on my own terms was reignited. An example of this is when the protagonists abandon the social norms surrounding their positions and, against all odds, allow themselves to fall for each other. The journey of self-discovery shown in both leading characters, supported by a diverse cast of side characters, reminded me of how reading altered my perspective of freedom and the steps it took to discover it.

My name is Nadia Haeryfar, and I come from a small rural town in Connecticut. I was raised by a single mom and her parents, with the later acquisition of two cats. Although my mom was born here, I was born in Canada and immigrated with her back to America when I was 3 years old. Living in a town with around 3,000 citizens has made me look to the outside world as I enter my upperclassmen years of high school. My dream is to be a best-selling author in the YA (young adult) fiction genre and publish novels in the voices of underprivileged minorities, including women, LGBTQ, people of color, etc. Growing up with a love for writing made me aware of the toughness of a career in it, meaning that authors rarely make enough money to solely live on, having to work side jobs and even forsake writing altogether to ensure financial stability. With the price of college, it is clear that I will need a job straight out of school. My favored options for a temporary job are technical writing and publishing. Coming from a multigenerational household, including a single mother, has inspired much of the writing I do. In creative writing class, when I first began finding my creative voice, I realized a connection between the protagonists of my works: all had realistic struggles spurred by societal norms, ranging from lack of attention to rape to being excluded from high school cohorts. Upon discovering this connection, I began purposely exaggerating these struggles and exemplifying them to be both understandable and relatable to the intended audience: the general public, but specifically teens and young adults who may benefit from knowing other characters, even if fictional, can relate to the various hardships of growing into adulthood. If given the money, I would put it toward getting a BFA (Bachelor's of Fine Arts) in Creative Writing, and a potential Master's. From there, I hope to find an agent and sell my current manuscript developed over the past year. What makes me different from other applicants is not that I identify as a woman, or that I am an immigrant raised by a single mom, but that I plan to give a voice to many people in underrepresented minorities in my future works. Writers often go unrecognized due to the popularity of the writing field, many extraordinary voices never getting a chance to share their work, or as was earlier stated "fall through the cracks." In conclusion, I would use this money to help pay for college and make transitioning into the field of creative writing much more efficient so I can give voice to the diverse voices that make up our society.

The definition of a "leader" varies, depending on the situation, but is universally defined as "a person who is the commanding officer of a group, giving out instructions for said group to obey and carry out." Real-life examples of leaders appear on a much broader scale, going from middle-school teachers to the President of the United States. The main trait between these two examples is, as stated above, that their positions involve more out-right commanding than following. Due to this broad spectrum, leaders hold many kinds of power yet are always following another individual; in most cases, there is never is derived "most powerful leader," as leaders are subconsciously following someone else, them following their predecessors, in sort-of a "cycle." I think of myself on this spectrum as both a leader and a follower. To be a leader, I had to learn from being a follower first. This is wholly referring to life as a student, listening and following the rules of teachers. Their guidance over the years opened my eyes to what being a leader was about. Following in their footsteps, my first big leadership position was as a gymnastics coach. This started in middle school as volunteer work, as I was a full-time gymnast and personal friends with the head gymnastics coach. This grew to be a part-time job once high school started. Working with younger kids, and being on the opposite end of giving orders, shed light on what the workforce is like beyond the younger years of school. Whenever I pulled out a mat or spotted a child doing a handstand, I thought about the correlation it had with bosses and workers in everyday jobs. This included my parents' jobs, who were both leaders in their firms at the time. With the later joining of NHS (National Honor Society), monthly volunteer work was required. Since gymnastics coaching became a paid position, I turned my attention towards "Our Companions," a local cat shelter I heard about through a newspaper. My mom and I were trained and later taken in as volunteers tasked with socializing, accompanying, and taking care of traumatized, special needs, and elderly cats. I was also given instructions to relay weekly information on the health of visited cats and send in any photos I took of them (the latter being optional). Between volunteering with cats and teaching gymnastics, I learned the traits of leadership: responsibility, effort, and organization. Having responsibility, meaning the ability and willingness to take on a task, is important to carry out that task, and ensures trust between colleagues. With success in training young gymnasts came the support of the other coaches. Putting in the effort is key to successful leadership, usually spurred by a vested interest. Being both a gymnast and cat owner fueled my motivation to work. Lastly, organization, affected by both responsibility and effort, is the executive part of a successful leader. While some leaders hire people to organize their schedules, the general element of organization is needed for a thriving business, and therefore a leader. These three traits - responsibility, effort, and organization - shaped me to grow into my shoes as a young leader and hopefully pass on the philosophy of being a leader to those I coach, and even my colleagues, in future years and into college.