Stepping foot out in my community was new to me. As a first-generation Vietnamese-American, I want to take advantage of all the opportunities given to me. However, there is a blessing in giving back to others. I’ve always had the urge to buy a lot of materialistic items. I was so clueless about other communities who were in poverty and had less resources compare to me. Over-consumption of materialistic items and “things” are unhealthy in our society. We usually “take” what we don’t have. Our community can improve drastically if we all continue to donate to small local organizations and people in our community. Being kind and friendly to others can help us to grow our communities instead of division. Donating to local organizations and volunteering in any way can make a difference in the community. For example, I was interested in donating feminine products such as soap bars, pads, and facial creams for women who don't have access to such items. I participated in a “menstrual” event which would have been much more successful in meeting its goal if more people had volunteered to help. Even if there weren't many people who donated feminine products for the event, I donated my time and products because it meant a lot to me to give what I could to women in need. I am also passionate about being a member of Future Health Organization Students of America (HOSA). I collected canned goods during Halloween for the homeless and sold cookies for breast cancer awareness. The most meaningful event I participated in was the Down Syndrome walk for people with all types of special needs. My younger sister has severe Autism, so I honored her. I feel so thankful to be a part of the (HOSA) organization and to join other people interested in saving lives. Giving back to the community is one way for our community to shine brighter if we work together. I will continue to participate in community volunteer activities and encourage others to join me in helping make our community better. As a Future Health Professional, being able to help others gives me the opportunity to explore who I am beyond my academics. I want to pursue an education in majoring in neuroscience with a minor in psychology. My career pathway is to attend undergrad, go to medical school, residency, and hopefully earn an MD or PhD in neuroscience in hopes of being a neurologist or a neuroscientist. I want to conduct research on Autism Spectrum Disorders since I know how it affects my younger sister and 1 in 44 children in the United States. Being a compassionate and kind young woman who is interested in pursuing a career in the medical field is important. I want to create an impact in my community and the world around me. I wouldn’t choose a career in the medical field just for the “money”. At the end of the day, all it matters is that I’m able to contribute to by community. No matter how big or small, I want to make a difference in my community for the greater good. :)

Hi! My name is Nhi, I’m a rising senior at Southwest Guilford High School who is excited to apply to several colleges. :) My passions include being part of the Health Occupations Students of America organization, listening to music, photography, and painting. My interest is to major in neuroscience with a minor in psychology at either UNC-Chapel Hill or Duke University. I’m a first-generation Vietnamese-American in my household to go to college! I enjoy learning about anatomy & physiology, health science, psychology, biology, and chemistry. My career pathway is to attend undergrad, go to medical school, then residency, and hopefully earn a PhD in neuroscience. My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America for a better life. My father was a pharmacist and my mother was a high school master’s degree English teacher in Vietnam. They both used their advanced education to help others. What they did not anticipate when moving to the U.S. was giving birth to a severely autistic child with limited capacity of speaking. My parents are low-income family who work at a nail shop six days a week to provide life’s necessities for my sister and I. The Voila Natural Scholarship provides money for me to go to college. College tuition and other expenses are important to consider when deciding which college I would like to attend. My goal is to have financial aid and to not be in debt. My parents work so hard for me and I know it is my duty to return the favor for all their sacrifices. No matter how big or small, the scholarship gives me the opportunity to save enough money to pursue an education at any university of my choice. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstacles that won’t stop me from learning lessons that will be fundamental to future success.

My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. Each day brings new challenges to look forward to in my pursuit of becoming a neurologist. My goal is to help others deal with neurological illnesses and disorders. I plan on going to undergraduate school, medical school, residency, then to work in a hospital setting.

My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstacles that won’t stop me from learning lessons that will be fundamental to future success.

My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstacles that won’t stop me from learning lessons that will be fundamental to future success.

My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstacles that won’t stop me from learning lessons that will be fundamental to future success

My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstacles that won’t stop me from learning lessons that will be fundamental to future success

I encountered an extremely difficult obstacle while a girl in middle school and, later, during three years of high school. Coping with and overcoming this obstacle is an ongoing challenge for me. As I move toward creating a healthy self, I am learning lessons that will become fundamental to my success as an adult and a professional person. My parents are Vietnamese immigrants who made many sacrifices to bring me to America so I could have a better life. This is a familiar background for many first-generation immigrants to the United States. My story, however, is not a familiar one. In Vietnam, my father was trained to be a pharmacist, and my mother a high school master’s degree English teacher. They both worked hard at school and used their advanced education to help others. What they didn’t anticipate when they immigrated to the US was not being able to use their training to earn a living, and, most importantly, giving birth to a severely autistic daughter with no capacity for speech and little ability to develop socially acceptable behavior. From twelve to sixteen years old I was forced to become my little sister’s caregiver, semi-parent, and “jailer.” This was a difficult obstacle because for years I was locked inside my house, alone with my much younger sister who is severely autistic and behaviorally difficult to handle. The emotions this situation created in me as a young child and, later, adolescent, made me compare myself to other kids who seemed to live in a perfect world. Social media was my only escape during this period of bondage. Social media supported my perspective by showing me other kids who had healthy family situations, were with their friends, and going on family vacations. I, meanwhile, was completely alone, depressed, and getting angrier and angrier. This entire obstacle was made more extreme when Covid forced my school to close and, further, made it impossible for me to enjoy even a small period of daily escape from my solitary confinement. During the four years I was responsible for my sister, I tried to overcome my loneliness and frustration by concentrating on schoolwork and extracurriculars. Occasionally, my parents took her to their small nail shop. My parents work six days a week. They work tirelessly doing nails, feet, and eyebrows to make each client feel beautiful. My parents work extremely hard to provide life’s necessities for my little sister and me. Despite my loneliness and depression and self-pity, I knew it was my duty to give back to my family for all their sacrifices. I knew I had to overcome the obstacle before me. I didn’t know how to begin, didn’t have the skills to make necessary changes, and didn’t believe I could meet my parents’ and my own expectations. When my junior year in high school began, I decided to run for Junior Class President, something far outside my isolated comfort zone. I was elected. Wow! Suddenly, my self-perception shifted a bit from self-doubt to a bit more confidence that I could overcome the effects of my long-term solitude and mental fatigue. As my junior year progressed, I joined Health Occupations Students of America. I made myself compete at both regional and state-level health competitions. I failed to win at regionals, which momentarily caused me to slip back into thinking I wasn’t good enough to succeed. But, having observed my parents’ daily devotion to working hard and never giving up, I learned the lessons of persistence and courage to act. I, then, competed in a state-level competition in the biomedical debate where I placed in the top ten finalists. Another lesson learned. This summer I worked for Chick-fil-A. The job introduced me to a new “me.” Each day now brings new challenges to look forward to and new obstaxle.