The SAT was everywhere. It appeared in the books I read, in the ads I watched, and even found its way into my nightmares. As a child, I inquired how a four-digit number could establish one's academic worth. For a long time, I feared the long passages and foreign math problems that I would see my older relatives struggling with. My parents encouraged me to study from a young age, but I refused, fearful of how a low score would reflect on my worth. From only twelve years old, I was afraid of the SAT. My parents awed over perfect scores, and my heart tightened with the anxiety of reaching their expectations, as if compressed inside loops of parabolas from mathmatic practice tests. My mind justified that a perfect score was equivalent to a flawless person, and knowing I was nowhere close, I ignored the SAT. It wasn't until my freshman year of high school, over the summer during my visit to Uzbekistan, that my perception was altered completely. During a chilly Saturday morning, I was completing AP summer homework on my culture's ornate traditional tablecloth, with the table immersed with cups of half-empty sugar tea and cleared plates. My younger brother was on the opposite side, completing his GO MATH mathbook while my Uzbek cousin peered from his shoulder. In a loud, sharp voice, my cousin was threatened by his mother to complete a chore, and he scrambled away from our sides. While he fed and milked the cows, I distracted myself from my work by doodling in my textbook. While he swept and watered the pathways, I skipped pages. Looking back in disgust at my attempts to waste time, I could not believe how blind I was to the fact that my life was easier than his. We were both similar in age, and he had not even acquired the time to learn his multiplication tables or basic algebra. I had substantial opportunities in comparison to him, only because I was fortunate to have my parents immigrate upon my birth. We were both the same, yet I was only luckier. Later, my heart sank upon learning my cousin's rejection from college. His fate differed from mine due to his limited opportunities, and his life would be drastically different. He would go on to live traditionally with his parents and into arranged marriage. His circumstances were supported only by the fact that he was unable to receive a proper education due to his limited resources. Uzbekistan did not have a library with free tutoring organizations or prep books. Uzbekistan did not allow those into higher education without high grades or substantial money. Therefore, I was determined to take advantage of the numerous opportunities that America had granted me, so I studied. I removed my fear with pure dedication, desiring to excel, and extremely grateful for the free materials provided for me. I found free websites such as Khan Academy and completed every SAT category within the summer of my junior year. Every time an answer I found was incorrect, I would not associate my mistakes with my worth, but rather to empower me to learn and improve from them. While my peers hung out and attended parties, I dismissed time away from my primitive years, as I knew my time would run out soon. This scholarship would significantly support the few times I am capable of taking the SAT, and allow me to focus on my progress rather than the cost of my mistakes.