Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities for communities attempting to be more sustainable, I will conduct research and offer consulting services, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I have done research that directly addressed ecosystem health at SUNY-ESF. Rain-drenched, my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although our layers of clothing got soaked, we didn’t stop until we had assessed over 70 beeches across the island. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me: and we are capable of saving them. Thanks to this belief, I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. After graduation, I plan on obtaining a PhD in Environmental Biology/Ecology. The field of conservation is vast and requires a wide range of knowledge. As such, I hope to work for a university with a reach of global programs. Study in such unique areas like the Coral Triangle in Indonesia and the Congo Basin Rainforest would allow me integral experience with conservation, as these areas are often the frontlines of climate change. Studying in these areas, often underdeveloped or underserved, I would have the unique opportunity to educate local towns and villages on how to protect their invaluable local lands and resources. Moreover, international study allows conservation biologists the chance to observe foreign ecosystems' solutions to local issues, reaching across nations to solve the climate crisis that affects us all. With a PhD, I hope to publish research proposing solutions in biology, such as the research of adapted genes in certain marine species that tolerate rising temperatures and lowering pHs. Allowing these gene adaptations to spread via supervised planting can help revitalize fish abundance by the creation of protected areas (which are shown to boost fish populations) alongside areas where fishing is allowed. While each protected area is being revitalized, the boost in marine abundance will help local economies to thrive. This is just one strategy to tackle climate change through cooperation between nature and humankind. After college, I hope to be at the forefront of this research, helping nature and humans to thrive.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities for communities attempting to be more sustainable, I will conduct research and offer consulting services, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I have done research that directly addressed ecosystem health at SUNY-ESF. Rain-drenched, my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although our layers of clothing got soaked, we didn’t stop until we had assessed over 70 beeches across the island. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me: and we are capable of saving them. Thanks to this belief, I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. After graduation, I plan on obtaining a PhD in Environmental Biology/Ecology. The field of conservation is vast and requires a wide range of knowledge. As such, I hope to work for a university with a reach of global programs. Study in such unique areas like the Coral Triangle in Indonesia and the Congo Basin Rainforest would allow me integral experience with conservation, as these areas are often the frontlines of climate change. Studying in these areas, often underdeveloped or underserved, I would have the unique opportunity to educate local towns and villages on how to protect their invaluable local lands and resources. Moreover, international study allows conservation biologists the chance to observe foreign ecosystems' solutions to local issues, reaching across nations to solve the climate crisis that affects us all. With a PhD, I hope to publish research proposing solutions in biology, such as the research of adapted genes in certain marine species that tolerate rising temperatures and lowering pHs. Allowing these gene adaptations to spread via supervised planting can help revitalize fish abundance by the creation of protected areas (which are shown to boost fish populations) alongside areas where fishing is allowed. While each protected area is being revitalized, the boost in marine abundance will help local economies to thrive. This is just one strategy to tackle climate change through cooperation between nature and humankind. After college, I hope to be at the forefront of this research, helping nature and humans to thrive.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities for communities attempting to be more sustainable, I will conduct research and offer consulting services, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I have done research that directly addressed ecosystem health at SUNY-ESF. Rain-drenched, my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although our layers of clothing got soaked, we didn’t stop until we had assessed over 70 beeches across the island. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me: and we are capable of saving them. Thanks to this belief, I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. After graduation, I plan on obtaining a PhD in Environmental Biology/Ecology. The field of conservation is vast and requires a wide range of knowledge. As such, I hope to work for a university with a reach of global programs. Study in such unique areas like the Coral Triangle in Indonesia and the Congo Basin Rainforest would allow me integral experience with conservation, as these areas are often the frontlines of climate change. Studying in these areas, often underdeveloped or underserved, I would have the unique opportunity to educate local towns and villages on how to protect their invaluable local lands and resources. Moreover, international study allows conservation biologists the chance to observe foreign ecosystems' solutions to local issues, reaching across nations to solve the climate crisis that affects us all. With a PhD, I hope to publish research proposing solutions in biology, such as the research of adapted genes in certain marine species that tolerate rising temperatures and lowering pHs. Allowing these gene adaptations to spread via supervised planting can help revitalize fish abundance by the creation of protected areas (which are shown to boost fish populations) alongside areas where fishing is allowed. While each protected area is being revitalized, the boost in marine abundance will help local economies to thrive. This is just one strategy to tackle climate change through cooperation between nature and humankind. After college, I hope to be at the forefront of this research, helping nature and humans to thrive.

“Chi dorme non piglia pesci.” This Italian proverb, literally meaning “he who sleeps does not catch fish,” speaks to me directly (literally–as I am an avid Latin student). Throughout my high school career, I’ve worked tirelessly to ensure my future success. While I recognize the necessity of taking time to recharge, I continually push myself towards the goals I set, such as the field research I’ve done. Rain-drenched, my research team and I waded through muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although we got soaked, we didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. Pursuing a degree in Environmental & Marine Biology will allow me to ensure the future of our planet by educating struggling maritime communities on sustainable resource management amid growing political and environmental challenges. In college, I will engage in volunteer student consulting groups to help communities implement technologies and practices to become more sustainable. This will equip me with the experiential skills needed to address climate issues I will face after college. I have also chosen a minor in Environmental Policy (or similar), following my participation in Empire Girls State where I served as both Environmental Conservation committee chair and Environmental Conservation Commissioner. After three grueling days of bill composition and lobbying for endorsements, we passed our bills addressing pesticides and water pollution. Seeing the State so eager to protect nature restored my faith in environmental legislation. After my undergraduate degree, I will be able to apply policy knowledge to the research focus of my major, directly integrating law and science in a career that seeks to protect our vast natural resources. Advocacy has always been a part of my life as well. Amid COVID’s upheaval, my school district replaced our cherished snow days with remote learning days. Despite understanding the decision, I witnessed the toll on students as, after our spring break was taken away as well, school and home life melded indistinguishably. Compelled to act, I rallied peers through a virtual petition citing health and educational insights on the value of snow days. Connecting with peers online, albeit difficult, created a newfound sense of empowerment in our school community. Even in isolation, we could champion our well-being. The following year, snow days returned. The adaptability and grit I’ve gained are invaluable as I delve into the intersection of science and societal well-being at college and beyond. Moreover, I am currently pursuing my Seal of Civic Readiness, a New York State award following a culminating capstone project addressing a civic issue. For my project, I am creating a resource for future generations of students that guides them through the college application process, which contains sources and advice on many questions that go unanswered when applying to college. Through this, I hope that future students will have a clearer and solidified path to success when applying to their dream school. Moreover, I understand that environmental conservation is rooted in communication, and as a young Italian woman, I understand the power of community. Whether it be through the connection in my ancestral tiramisu, warm gesticulations, passion for the ocean, or conviction that he who sleeps will not catch fish, I am committed to sharing my passion for the planet, globally.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. However, the future of waste mitigation, one of the greatest threats to our ocean, is changing rapidly. Recently, UT developed a plastic-eating enzyme called Fast-PETase: it digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles, mattresses, and others without being restricted to a certain temperature range. In my NYS Regents Seal of Biliteracy Project, I explored the effects of this enzyme on microplastic mitigation in the future. So far, the introduction of this new innovative technology is still in early stages of research, however, wastewater treatment plants already use several levels of biological treatment, such as aeration and microorganic digestion to break down pollutants. Introducing this enzyme to digest microplastics in a controlled environment would be relatively viable, since the infrastructure to do so is largely in place already. By sharing this research, I aim not only to raise awareness but also to empower others to integrate scientific advances (like reduction of polyester clothing) into their lives in order to battle environmental challenges. I also recently participated in ALA Empire Girls State, a political program empowering young women through mock government. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. I also participated in a similar program that allowed me to directly interact with ecosystems through research. Rain-drenched (it rained bullets for the only time that week), my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although my three layers of clothing got soaked, I didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. This will prepare me uniquely for environmental research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences. But, to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in everything. I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will equip underserved communities with strategies to adapt and thrive in our changing world.

My phone buzzed–and I almost swiped the email. It was an invitation to interview for ALA Empire Girls State, a program empowering girls through legislation and governmental processes. I never planned to study politics, and I felt uneasy being surrounded by individuals more well-versed in the subject. However, I accepted, resolving that knowledge of legislation is crucial to my prospective field, environmental science. When I arrived, however, my trepidation began to melt away as I connected with my suitemate, whose supportive nature reassured me almost instantly. As my confidence grew, I ran for and won my committee's chair, and after three grueling days of bill composition and lobbying for endorsements, we passed our bills addressing pesticides and water pollution. Seeing the State’s eagerness to protect nature restored my faith in environmental legislation. Witnessing my newfound friends run for state offices, many on a whim, awakened a new sense of ambition in me. Conveying my dedication to environmental issues in a letter to the EGS Governor was difficult at 10:30 pm in the stuffy Brockport dorm, but when she announced my name as the State Commissioner for Environmental Conservation, my heart soared. As I watched each friend depart, tears pricked the corners of my eyes, a testament to the unwavering support that shaped me at Girls State. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, sharpening my argumentation and active listening skills. A platform to advance goals relevant to my studies was unprecedented, and the empowerment I felt as part of Girls State pushed me to pursue a minor in policy. Empowerment is the ability to embrace your civic role though your political voice, a lesson I learned much earlier during the height of COVID. Amid COVID’s upheaval, my school district replaced our cherished snow days with remote learning days. Despite understanding the decision, I witnessed the toll on students as, after our spring break was taken away as well, school and home life melded indistinguishably. Compelled to act, I rallied peers through a virtual petition citing health and educational insights on the value of snow days. Connecting with peers online, albeit difficult, created a newfound sense of empowerment in our school community. Even in isolation, we could champion our well-being. The following year, snow days returned. The adaptability and grit I’ve gained are invaluable as I delve into the intersection of science and societal well-being at college and beyond. Moreover, I am currently pursuing my Seal of Civic Readiness, a New York State award following a culminating capstone project addressing a civic issue. For my project, I am creating a resource for future generations of students that guides them through the college application process, which contains sources and advice on many questions that go unanswered when applying to college. Through this, I hope that future students will have a clearer and solidified path to success when applying to their dream school Essentially, empowerment means using your abilities to make life easier for someone else. If you have the ability to do so, why choose not to? Through Girls State, my petition, and my Civic Readiness project, I have learned what it means to empower others and empower myself as well.

One salad at a time Assemble the ‘guts’: carrot, apple, green pepper, red pepper, avocado, tomato, cucumber. Wash them. Soak the lettuce. Chop the veggies into a bowl, a rainbow of colors. Spin the greens, straining to keep the pace with the overfilled spinner. Fluff them in the bowl–I hope they’ll be enough. It’s a salad, the traditional supplement of my family’s meals. A mix of greens and ‘guts’ topped with chia seeds, nutritional yeast and craisins, and a drizzle of Italian dressing, golden with a hint of spice. My sister and I have a rotation–Friday-Monday for me, Tuesday-Thursday for her. We’ve perfected the system: three heads of lettuce and a full bowl of vegetables lasts two days, maximizing our labor. Growing up, our kitchen was aglow with sizzling garlic and the aroma of my father’s recipes. In our health-conscious family, salad accompanies every meal–not as a diet substitute, but a cherished tradition blending our parents’ own salad recipes before they met. But gosh, I hate to make it. Forty-five minutes of the old chipped knife scraping on the glass cutting board is not the ideal way to spend an evening. Wiping the board after every change of ingredient is tedious, and my fingers are waterlogged after scrubbing produce for ten straight minutes. A clock ticks louder in my ear, a constant reminder of the looming homework deadlines, that violin piece I need to perfect, and the pressure of coordinating my day. The salad isn’t always a blessing when my mind is racing, creating a time-sensitive schedule in order to accomplish every task after nine hours of school and track practice. However, I’ve realized during nights without the salad how much I miss it. Dinner doesn't feel complete when it’s just a burger and tater tots or beans on rice. The salad isn’t just a family tradition, it’s also a reflection on myself. I've learned that investing time in seemingly mundane tasks can yield rewards in the long run; you’ll get that burst of sweet apple or tanginess of Italian dressing, and you’ll remember why you do it. Red peppers: cross country and track, sweet but a little crunchy. Difficult. Celery: academics. Mellow but you find a string in your teeth that challenges you. Apples: violin. Sweet. When you find one–like a great performance–you rejoice. Carrots: work. Slicing them into tiny pieces helps ease the firmness. Cucumber: environmental club. Refreshing to meet people just like you. Lots of seeds involved. Tomatoes: social life. Bright and colorful but sometimes it stings. Avocado: faith. It’s mild and creamy, relieving. You miss it when it’s not there. Even with these extensive components, I feel discouraged when I fail to see the cumulative effect of my efforts. But simply returning to the cutting board every day is a testament to my resilience, which has prepared me uniquely for my academic goal of STEM research. One day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others–but wait, haven’t I been here before? Making the salad each night reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in every little thing. As I set the bowl in the fridge, I’m reminded that life, like a salad, is a mix of the mundane and the extraordinary. With each task completed, I’m ready to take on the world, one salad at a time.

Growing up in New York State, with its lush forests and vast beauty, has enabled me to develop a deep appreciation for nature. Hiking in the woods has been a large part of my life since I was a child. My grandparents owned 85 acres of land in the Helderberg region, which is 45 miles west of Albany. My mother passed along the knowledge she gained while living there. This knowledge was instilled in me over the years through her instruction and our adventures as a family. At the age of seven, she enrolled me in Beaver Lake Nature Camp, which I attended every summer until eighth grade. During my summers there, I learned valuable skills such as identifying edible plants(I still enjoy a good handful of wood sorrel now and then), kayaking, performing “bug sweeps,” and even catching the first crawfish found at Beaver Lake in ten years! Most importantly, I learned the value of giving back to nature through recycling, using alternative packaging materials, and constructing insect housing for hibernation in the winter months. Eventually, I “aged out” of nature camp, and this caused me to realize how much I missed my excursions out to the lake. When COVID hit, I suddenly found my life to be free from the activities I participate in during the school year. This freedom from my busy schedule left a gap open in my time–I was able to explore the wonders of nature without time constraints. I have found both solace and inspiration in the sanctity of the forests. As the world returned to normal, I began running cross-country, which allowed me to rediscover nature’s tranquility through exercise as well as exploration. Through my running experience, I found a way to test my mental strength while also enjoying myself. Running alone in the woods is one of the most freeing experiences I've had; the ground beneath your feet and the trees whispering above you. I have never felt more connected to nature. Throughout my life, the environment has been one of my greatest teachers. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me. I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. I have chosen a career path in Marine Biology with a minor in Environmental Science. While Marine Biology is my primary career choice, several of the colleges I am considering offer it only as a minor(my major would be Environmental Science). No matter the specifics, I hope to address climate change through consultations and heading state conservation projects such as Save the Sound in NYC. Whether it be dispensing generational knowledge of woodland plants, or simply reminding others to “put it in the recycle,” I firmly believe education is the best remedy for the climate crisis. Environmental research will enrich my understanding of environmental stewardship and provide me with the tools and platform to continue to inspire my peers. I am eager to immerse myself in an environment where my passion for the outdoors can flourish, and where I can contribute meaningfully to the preservation and celebration of our planet’s precious ecosystems. Studying Marine Biology will help me produce valuable research and engineer solutions to rising temperatures and encroachment. Nature has always been at the center of my world, and I see no future for myself but fighting to preserve it.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. However, the future of waste mitigation, one of the greatest threats to our ocean, is changing rapidly. Recently, UT developed a plastic-eating enzyme called Fast-PETase: it digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles, mattresses, and others without being restricted to a certain temperature range. In my NYS Regents Seal of Biliteracy Project, I explored the effects of this enzyme on microplastic mitigation in the future. So far, the introduction of this new innovative technology is still in early stages of research, however, wastewater treatment plants already use several levels of biological treatment, such as aeration and microorganic digestion to break down pollutants. Introducing this enzyme to digest microplastics in a controlled environment would be relatively viable, since the infrastructure to do so is largely in place already. By sharing this research, I aim not only to raise awareness but also to empower others to integrate scientific advances (like reduction of polyester clothing) into their lives in order to battle environmental challenges. I also recently participated in ALA Empire Girls State, a political program empowering young women through mock government. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. I also participated in a similar program that allowed me to directly interact with ecosystems through research. Rain-drenched (yes, it rained bullets for the only time that week), my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although my three layers of clothing got soaked, I didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. In college, I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. However, the future of waste mitigation, one of the greatest threats to our ocean, is changing rapidly. Recently, UT developed a plastic-eating enzyme called Fast-PETase: it digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles, mattresses, and others without being restricted to a certain temperature range. In my NYS Regents Seal of Biliteracy Project, I explored the effects of this enzyme on microplastic mitigation in the future. So far, the introduction of this new innovative technology is still in early stages of research, however, wastewater treatment plants already use several levels of biological treatment, such as aeration and microorganic digestion to break down pollutants. Introducing this enzyme to digest microplastics in a controlled environment would be relatively viable, since the infrastructure to do so is largely in place already. By sharing this research, I aim not only to raise awareness but also to empower others to integrate scientific advances (like reduction of polyester clothing) into their lives in order to battle environmental challenges. I also recently participated in ALA Empire Girls State, a political program empowering young women through mock government. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. I also participated in a similar program that allowed me to directly interact with ecosystems through research. Rain-drenched (yes, it rained bullets for the only time that week), my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although my three layers of clothing got soaked, I didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. In college, I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive.

My theater director was terrifying. At 6'3 and brusque in mannerisms, one could imagine how, if you were only a freshman, it was a bit scary to even speak to him. I had done two musicals at my high school at this point, so it was a bit late in the game for me--I didn't expect with as little theater experience I had to get a lead role. And, no surprises there, I didn't. The following year, when I was a sophomore, the musical he chose was small, designed for a lower-budget Broadway production, with lots of roles filled by the same actors. The cast was small, and the ensemble was barely visible in the two numbers they were in. So, instead of casting me in the musical, my director pulled me aside and suggested that I join the pit orchestra. This was a group of musicians from all over out country(usually music teachers) who provided orchestration for the performance. My first instrument is the violin, so I agreed. The music itself was not difficult, but adjusting to the stress of performing with adult volunteer musicians as a sophomore was alarming. Even though I had diligently practiced, I found myself stumbling through the music and struggling to keep up with the quick directions of our conductor(my orchestra teacher). Eventually, I got the hang of the orchestra, and I really enjoyed it. But, the following year, it was announced that tickets for the performances would no longer be paid--the theater arts program in conjunction with the School Board would fund the show so that tickets could be available for free. That year's production was "Matilda the Musical," a hilarious and whimsical show that was one of the program's best performances, in my opinion. With the addition of free tickets, families from all over the district, no matter their income, were able to come and see the show. As I performed, four nights in a row, I realized the importance of musical theater and its effect on the community. My own volunteer performances were well worth the effort--kids who may never have been able to experience theater were sitting in the audience, soaking up the culture that may never have been available to them otherwise. My own experience was wonderful--I got to do what I was best at, and although demanding issues such as abject poverty and homelessness may not have been addressed by our little show, the extension of theater to all families in the school district set an important precedent for integrating communities. To me, giving back to my community means giving to others what shaped me as a person. Seeing performances at the high school, like Peter Pan when I was ten years old, fostered a love of music and drama in me. Extending that ability to children who may not have been so lucky is integral. Music programs in all schools, especially inner city and in areas of less affluence, boost the well-being of many poor students who may have undiscovered natural talent or simply want to express themselves. My experience with music has been transformative. Practicing daily allows me to vent frustration and exercises me mentally. Students who have to help support their family because of financial reasons or are part of an abusive household need an outlet. Music reaches through communities and unites them.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State, where a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. I also participated in a similar program that allowed me to directly interact with ecosystems through research. Rain-drenched (yes, it rained bullets for the only time that week), my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although my three layers of clothing got soaked, I didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of environmental research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in everything. I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State, where a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. I also participated in a similar program that allowed me to directly interact with ecosystems through research. Rain-drenched (yes, it rained bullets for the only time that week), my team and I waded through the muddy bracken to find beech sprouts–a vital survival response for diseased beech trees. Although my three layers of clothing got soaked, I didn’t stop until we had assessed around 70 beeches across the island. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of environmental research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in everything. I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive. While my parents are immensely proud of my achievements, these goals are my own. Consequently, I don’t expect them to cover my college education. Tuition is on the rise, far outpacing inflation, making it challenging for me to cover costs independently. A scholarship for self-starters is somewhat oxymoronic, but the aid of this scholarship would relieve a huge financial burden on my family. Knowing myself, I will do whatever it takes to work through the financial and academic challenges of college, but the assistance of this scholarship will enable me to go even further. With my core principles of individualism and independence, I will rise to the challenge, but with the support of this scholarship, I will overcome it.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into more tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State, where a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both my argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of environmental research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in everything. I plan to engage in education of communities from the ground up through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive.

I am drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and consult, drawing on my passion for conservation. My fascination with marine life extends beyond academic curiosity; it's a call to action. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State (American Legion Auxiliary), a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass one of our bills regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both argumentation and listening skills. During my time at Girls State, I truly experienced the the power of positive tension: it is only through the push and pull of opposing beliefs that we create change. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of STEM research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, optimism reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in every little thing. Throughout my life, the environment has been one of my greatest teachers. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me. I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. I plan to engage in further education of communities through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will be able to actively aid companies and townships in implementing technologies such as plastic-digesting enzymes and other ecosystem health aids, to become more sustainable. Just as each droplet of oil can destroy an ecosystem, each effort we make towards sustainable practices can create significant change, ensuring that our most precious resource, water, remains protected for generations.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State, where a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass a bill regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both argumentation and listening skills. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of STEM research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, optimism reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in everything. Moreover, I plan to engage in further education of communities through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will further my advocacy and communication as I pursue environmental conservation. A career in sustainability consulting will enable me to empower these communities, equipping them with strategies to adapt and thrive.

Reluctant at first, I accepted the ALA Empire Girls State invite, noting that legislation is crucial to facing environmental issues. With no political experience, I was daunted. Yet, as I arrived, I felt my trepidation melt away, replaced by the compassion of my suitemates. My confidence grew, driving me to chair a committee and pass significant bills on pesticides and water pollution. Drafting an interest letter to the Governor was challenging at 10:30pm in a stuffy dorm, but as I was named as State Commissioner for Environmental Conservation, my heart soared! Watching each friend depart, tears pricked my eyes–a testament to the unwavering support I found at Girls State. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both argumentation and listening skills. At college, I will further my advocacy, expertly contributing to initiatives like free consulting groups to build a greener future together. Environmental policy was never an avenue I planned to take, but the experience of creating legislation that directly impacted climate change in our mock government has awakened me to the true significance of our political voices. I have also realized the power of female viewpoints and the incredible power of empathetic policy making.

One salad at a time Assemble the ‘guts’: carrot, apple, green pepper, red pepper, avocado, tomato, cucumber. Wash them. Soak the lettuce. Chop the veggies into a bowl, a rainbow of colors. Spin the greens, straining to keep the pace with the overfilled spinner. Fluff them in the bowl–I hope they’ll be enough. It’s a salad, the traditional supplement of my family’s meals. A mix of greens and ‘guts’ topped with chia seeds, nutritional yeast and craisins, and a drizzle of Italian dressing, golden with a hint of spice. My sister and I have a rotation–Friday-Monday for me, Tuesday-Thursday for her. We’ve perfected the system: three heads of lettuce and a full bowl of vegetables lasts two days, maximizing our labor. Growing up, our kitchen was aglow with sizzling garlic and the aroma of my father’s recipes. In our health-conscious family, salad accompanies every meal–not as a diet substitute, but a cherished tradition blending our parents’ own salad recipes before they met. But gosh, I hate to make it. Forty-five minutes of the old chipped knife scraping on the glass cutting board is not the ideal way to spend an evening. Wiping the board after every change of ingredient is tedious, and my fingers are waterlogged after scrubbing produce for ten straight minutes. A clock ticks louder in my ear, a constant reminder of the looming homework deadlines, that violin piece I need to perfect, and the pressure of coordinating my day. The salad isn’t always a blessing when my mind is racing, creating a time-sensitive schedule in order to accomplish every task after nine hours of school and track practice. However, I’ve realized during nights without the salad how much I miss it. Dinner doesn't feel complete when it’s just a burger and tater tots or beans on rice. The salad isn’t just a family tradition, it’s also a reflection on myself. I've learned that investing time in seemingly mundane tasks can yield rewards in the long run; you’ll get that burst of sweet apple or tanginess of Italian dressing, and you’ll remember why you do it. There is no escaping those days where everything feels tedious–much like there’s no escaping the making of the salad–but my life would be incomplete without its variety of components. Red peppers: cross country and track, sweet but a little crunchy. Difficult. Celery: schoolwork. Mellow but you find a string in your teeth that challenges you. Apples: violin. Sweet. When you find one–much like a great performance–you rejoice. Carrots: work. Slicing them into tiny pieces helps ease the firmness. Cucumber: environmental club. Refreshing to meet people just like you. Lots of seeds involved. Tomatoes: social life. Bright and colorful but sometimes it stings. Avocado: faith. It’s mild and creamy, relieving. You miss it when it’s not there. Even with these extensive components, I feel discouraged when I fail to see the cumulative effect of my efforts. But simply returning to the cutting board every day is a testament to my resilience, which has prepared me uniquely for my academic goal of STEM research. One day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others–but wait, haven’t I been here before? Making the salad each night reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in every little thing. As I set the bowl in the fridge, I’m reminded that life, like a salad, is a mix of the mundane and the extraordinary. With each task completed, I’m ready to take on the world, one salad at a time.

An oil droplet deep beneath the surface of the earth vibrates as the drill penetrates the crust. It is drawn up, collected in millions of tons to be refined and distilled. Then, it is bound to millions of other monomers to form a polymer, then shipped to be manufactured into usable products like packaging, containers, and even clothing. When the product is purchased–let’s say this polymer becomes a t-shirt–it is washed. When the polymer is pounded with streams of water and harsh detergents, it sheds tiny microplastics. These enter the wastewater stream and are soon on their way to a wastewater treatment plant. They trickle through chemical and physical filtration systems, too small to be noticed. They an leak into ecosystems, disrupting nitrogen cycling and procuring huge algal blooms that pose a significant threat to aquatic ecosystems and human health. As climate change continues, the preservation of clean water is integral to supporting the human race. Deforestation has led to raging bush fires that further destroy forests, creating a dry, arid landscape that wicks whatever moisture is left in the air. The water we have must be clean: it may be all we have. As each source of water becomes contaminated, the call to action becomes increasingly more desperate. As climate injustice often impacts those with less first, it is imperative that world and national leaders implement sustainable technologies such as Fast-PETase, a versatile enzyme which digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles, mattresses, and others.. It is our only choice to ensure that the life cycle of our waste is not linear, but circular to ensure the safety of our resources for future generations.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. I am also drawn to marine conservation through sustainability. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research and offer environmental consulting services after college, drawing on my passion for conservation. My fascination with marine life extends beyond academic curiosity; it's a call to action. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility. After college, I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth. Recently, I participated in ALA Empire Girls State (American Legion Auxiliary), a thirst for political involvement began to take root in me. As I explored the world of policy, I was elected Co-Chair of the Environmental Conservation. In this position, I helped pass one of our bills regulating residential pesticides and encouraging sustainable alternatives. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both argumentation and listening skills. During my time at Girls State, I truly experienced the the power of positive tension: it is only through the push and pull of opposing beliefs that we create change. With the skills and patience I've gained from Girls State and my young adventures, I've developed an appreciation of the mundane and the extraordinary. This will prepare me uniquely for my academic goal of STEM research: one day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others. But, optimism reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, I must find meaning in every little thing. Throughout my life, the environment has been one of my greatest teachers. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me. I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others.

An oil droplet deep beneath the surface of the earth vibrates as the drill penetrates the crust. It is drawn up, collected in millions of tons to be refined and distilled. Then, it is bound to millions of other monomers to form a polymer, then shipped to be manufactured into products like packaging, containers, and even clothing. When the product is purchased–let’s say this polymer becomes a t-shirt–it is washed. When it's pounded with streams of water and harsh detergents, it sheds tiny microplastics. These enter the wastewater stream and are on their way to a wastewater treatment plant. They trickle through filtration systems, too small to be noticed. When the water is recycled, they are recycled with it. However, this water doesn’t always stay within the wastewater system–it leaks into ecosystems, disrupting nitrogen cycling and causing algal blooms that pose a significant threat to aquatic ecosystems and human health. But the future of waste mitigation is changing rapidly. Recently, UT developed a plastic-eating enzyme called Fast-PETase: it digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles and more without temperature restriction. In my NYS Regents Seal of Biliteracy Project*, I explored the effects of this enzyme on microplastic mitigation in the future. So far, the introduction of this innovative technology is still in early stages of research, however, wastewater treatment plants already use several levels of biological treatment, such as aeration and microorganic digestion to break down pollutants. Introducing this enzyme to digest microplastics in a controlled environment would be relatively viable, since the infrastructure to do so is largely in place already. By sharing this research, I aim not only to raise awareness but also to empower others to integrate scientific advances (like reduction of polyester clothing) into their lives in order to battle environmental challenges. Moreover, I plan to engage in further education of communities through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, I will be actively aid communities in implementing technologies such as this enzyme and other, fully developed solutions, to become more sustainable. Just as each droplet of oil can destroy an ecosystem, each effort we make towards sustainable practices can create significant change, ensuring that our most precious resource, water, remains protected for generations. *Part I of the SBL requires a “passion project” drawing on student experiences. My project centers around climate change, drawing on my research at the SUNY-ESF Field Biology program.

One Salad at a Time Assemble the ‘guts’: carrot, apple, pepper, avocado, tomato, cucumber. Wash. Soak the lettuce. Chop the veggies into a bowl, a rainbow of colors. Spin the greens, straining to keep the pace. Fluff them in the bowl–I hope they’ll be enough. It’s a salad, a mix of greens and ‘guts’ topped with chia seeds, nutritional yeast, and a drizzle of Italian dressing, golden with a hint of spice. My sister and I have a rotation–we’ve perfected the system: three heads of lettuce and a full bowl of vegetables lasts two days, maximizing our labor. Growing up, our kitchen was aglow with sizzling garlic and the aroma of my father’s recipes. In our family, salad accompanies every meal--a cherished tradition blending our parents’ own salad recipes before they met. But gosh, I hate to make it. Forty-five minutes of the old knife scraping on the glass cutting board is not the ideal way to spend an evening. Wiping the board after every change of ingredient is tedious, and my fingers are waterlogged after scrubbing produce for ten minutes. A clock ticks louder in my ear, a reminder of the looming homework deadlines and pressure of coordinating my day. The salad isn’t a blessing when my mind is racing, creating a schedule to accomplish every task after nine hours of school and practice. However, I’ve realized during nights without the salad how much I miss it. The salad isn’t just a family tradition, it’s also a reflection on myself. Investing time in seemingly mundane tasks can yield rewards in the long run; you’ll get that burst of sweet apple or tang of Italian dressing, and you’ll remember why you do it. There is no escaping those days where everything feels tedious, but my life would be incomplete without its variety of components. Red peppers: cross country and track, sweet but a little crunchy. Difficult. Celery: schoolwork. Mellow but you find a string in your teeth that challenges you. Apples: violin. Sweet. When you find one–much like a great performance–you rejoice. Carrots: work. Slicing them into tiny pieces helps ease the firmness. Cucumber: environmental club. Refreshing to meet people just like you. Lots of seeds involved. Tomatoes: social life. Bright and colorful but sometimes it stings. Avocado: faith. It’s mild and creamy, relieving. You miss it when it’s not there. Often I feel discouraged when I fail to see the cumulative effect of my efforts. But returning to the cutting board every day is a testament to my resilience, preparing me uniquely for my academic goals. Pursuing a degree in Environmental Biology will allow me to address marine conservation while inspiring communities to value education. Marine conservation is necessary to ensure the future of our planet, but the degradation of our ocean, negatively impacts maritime villages, especially in Native populations. Part of my goal as a marine conservationist is to educate struggling communities on sustainable resource management amid growing challenges. One day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others–but wait, haven’t I been here before? Making salad reminds me that to create change in life, or even to continue, I must find meaning in everything. As I set the bowl in the fridge, I’m reminded that life, like a salad, is a mix of the mundane and the extraordinary; I’m ready to take on the world, one salad at a time.

An oil droplet deep beneath the surface of the earth vibrates as the drill penetrates the crust. It is drawn up, collected in millions of tons to be refined and distilled. Then, it is bound together covalently with millions of other monomers to form a polymer–which is then shipped to be manufactured into usable products like packaging, containers, and even clothing. When the product is purchased–let’s say this polymer becomes a t-shirt–it is washed. When the polymer is pounded with streams of water and harsh detergents, it sheds tiny pieces called microplastics. These enter the wastewater stream and are soon on their way to a wastewater treatment plant. They trickle through chemical and physical filtration systems, slipping by, too small to be noticed. When the water is recycled, they are recycled with it. However, this water doesn’t always stay within the wastewater system–it can leak into ecosystems, disrupting nitrogen cycling and disrupting the use of water as a renewable energy source. As climate change continues, the preservation of clean water is integral to supporting the human race. Deforestation has led to raging bushfires that further destroy forests, creating a dry, arid landscape that wicks whatever moisture is left in the air. Because of this, the water we have must be clean: it may be all we have. But the future of hydroelectric power and water cleansing is changing rapidly. Recently, UT developed a plastic-eating enzyme called Fast-PETase: it digests polyethylene terephthalate, found in clothing, water bottles, mattresses, and others without being restricted to a certain temperature range. In my NYS Regents Seal of Biliteracy Project*, I explore the effects of this enzyme on microplastic mitigation in the future. So far, the introduction of this new innovative technology is still in early stages of research, however, wastewater treatment plants already use several levels of biological treatment, such as aeration and microorganic digestion to break down pollutants. Introducing this enzyme to digest microplastics in a controlled environment would be relatively viable, since the infrastructure to do so is largely in place already. By sharing this research, I aim not only to raise awareness but also to empower others to integrate scientific advances (like reduction of polyester clothing) into their lives in order to battle environmental challenges. Moreover, I plan to engage in further education of communities through free student consulting groups in college. Through these groups, such as CSC at Cornell, I will be able to actively aid companies and townships in implementing technologies such as this enzyme and other, fully developed solutions, to become more sustainable. As I understand it, biology is our most inexhaustible source of energy--but just as each droplet of oil can destroy an ecosystem, each effort we make towards sustainable practices can create significant change, ensuring that our most precious source of energy, water, remains protected for generations. *Part I of the SBL Project (native language-English) requires students to compile a “passion project” drawing on their experiences and passions. My project centers around climate change with a focus on reforestation and waste mitigation, drawing on research and experiences with ecology and limnology at the SUNY-ESF Adirondack Field Biology program.

One Salad at a Time Assemble the ‘guts’: carrot, apple, pepper, avocado, tomato, cucumber. Wash. Soak the lettuce. Chop the veggies into a bowl, a rainbow of colors. Spin the greens, straining to keep the pace. Fluff them in the bowl–I hope they’ll be enough. It’s a salad, a mix of greens and ‘guts’ topped with chia seeds, nutritional yeast, and a drizzle of Italian dressing, golden with a hint of spice. My sister and I have a rotation–we’ve perfected the system: three heads of lettuce and a full bowl of vegetables lasts two days, maximizing our labor. Growing up, our kitchen was aglow with sizzling garlic and the aroma of my father’s recipes. In our family, salad accompanies every meal--a cherished tradition blending our parents’ own salad recipes before they met. But gosh, I hate to make it. Forty-five minutes of the old knife scraping on the glass cutting board is not the ideal way to spend an evening. Wiping the board after every change of ingredient is tedious, and my fingers are waterlogged after scrubbing produce for ten minutes. A clock ticks louder in my ear, a reminder of the looming homework deadlines and pressure of coordinating my day. The salad isn’t a blessing when my mind is racing, creating a schedule to accomplish every task after nine hours of school and practice. However, I’ve realized during nights without the salad how much I miss it. The salad isn’t just a family tradition, it’s also a reflection on myself. Investing time in seemingly mundane tasks can yield rewards in the long run; you’ll get that burst of sweet apple or tang of Italian dressing, and you’ll remember why you do it. There is no escaping those days where everything feels tedious, but my life would be incomplete without its variety of components. Red peppers: cross country and track, sweet but a little crunchy. Difficult. Celery: schoolwork. Mellow but you find a string in your teeth that challenges you. Apples: violin. Sweet. When you find one–much like a great performance–you rejoice. Carrots: work. Slicing them into tiny pieces helps ease the firmness. Cucumber: environmental club. Refreshing to meet people just like you. Lots of seeds involved. Tomatoes: social life. Bright and colorful but sometimes it stings. Avocado: faith. It’s mild and creamy, relieving. You miss it when it’s not there. Often I feel discouraged when I fail to see the cumulative effect of my efforts. But returning to the cutting board every day is a testament to my resilience, preparing me uniquely for my academic goals. Pursuing a degree in Environmental Biology will allow me to address marine conservation while inspiring communities to value education. Marine conservation is necessary to ensure the future of our planet, but the degradation of our ocean, negatively impacts maritime villages, especially in Native populations. Part of my goal as a marine conservationist is to educate struggling communities on sustainable resource management amid growing challenges. One day, I may wait with bated breath for my study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, my time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others–but wait, haven’t I been here before? Making salad reminds me that to create change in life, or even to continue, I must find meaning in everything. As I set the bowl in the fridge, I’m reminded that life, like a salad, is a mix of the mundane and the extraordinary; I’m ready to take on the world, one salad at a time.

Metal fork or plastic fork? Though it may be a small decision when one is in the lunch line, it’s a big decision for our planet. Though many institutions are transitioning to eco-friendly alternatives, my prospective school, Cornell's everyday conservation initiatives are unmatched. I chose CALS because of its commitment to sustainable living through LEED buildings and a student-run grocery store, which shocked me–I’m amazed by such an honored pledge to environmental stewardship. Because of monetary disparities associated with sustainability, I will join the CSC (Cornell Sustainibility Consultants), where I will give back to the community through free consultations, helping disparaged communities go green while alleviating financial burdens. Moreover, Cornell's undergraduate research programs will allow me to contribute my own sustainable solutions to real-world issues; the ability to study at SHOALS Marine Lab in Maine is a prime example of how I will utilize Cornell's scope. Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with fauna at the BIOMES marine center. BIOMES allowed me in-depth participation in feeding horseshoe crabs, while educating young people about the protection of marine creatures. I was drawn to the CALS Marine Biology minor through Cornell’s partner, SHOALS Marine Lab. While exploring SHOALS, I resonated with the ‘Ecology and the Marine Environment’ course taught by Dr. Rick Zechman, a string player like myself. The immersive, hands-on research experiences offered by this course will equip me with the skills and knowledge necessary to advance my career in marine sustainability research, allowing me to explore the conservation of marine ecosystems in the field. Marine ecological processes have astounded me since I was a kid digging in tide pools, and the dedication of Cornell to marine-specific ecology and sustainability furthered my interest in a Marine Biology minor. The opportunity to join a community where I can contribute through sustainable research is incredible, especially at a school that has made so many strides in acceptance through it diversity and agricultural programs. Agriculture is rooted in feminism, with women at the forefront of cultivation throughout history. I've been advised not to obsess over the environment because I can't fix everything. While I've learned to worry less, I pose a question: If everyone focused only on their needs, where would we be? This is truly why I choose STEM. Since Cornell doesn't offer merit scholarships, the tuition will be burdensome to my family. This scholarship will be a huge help to my family, who I believe shouldn't have to help me with college. However, due to rising costs, paying my own way simply isn't an option. But, I am resolute in my goal: science is life, and we must protect our planet.

Post. Like. Share. Comment: A Glimpse into a World Cut Off from the Draw of Social Media "Their win is not my loss." This quote from Olivia Rodrigo's song "Jealousy, Jealousy" perfectly describes my relationship with social media growing up. As a seventeen-year-old girl in high school, the epitome of social intellect was shared on social media platforms such as Instagram and Snapchat, how young people of my generation connected. Almost every relationship that occurred during my years of high school started in the Snap Score, something to which I had no access. Trends, artists, even political events reverberated through the internet algorithm shaping modern American culture. Growing up, I was not allowed social media for any reason. My parents, part of Generation X, are older than the average parent of a teen. This meant that I was expected to live my life as they had lived theirs: devoid of "social" technology that governed my world, yet barely made a dent in theirs. As a kid, I agreed with their views of social media's conspicuous consumption and hindrance of emotional development. I had no choice but to see that they were right: social media has countless negative effects. I was reminded of this later when browsing Stanford News: a new study(and its article by Vignesh Ramachandran) has proven that American social media users are prone to discontent and anger when exposed to others' posts, while Japanese users favor positive aspects when scrolling. This is a direct reflection on Americans' tendency to compare themselves to others. Whether it be political, socio-economic, or spiritual, American cultural divides feature blatantly on social media. This was a reason for my parents' decision to raise my sister and I media-free--so we wouldn't be exposed to so much avoidable negativity. I began to question this "out of sight, out of mind" approach when I was about 15 years old. Returning from COVID, I realized that I was in a much different mental state than many of my peers. During the pandemic, my sister and I created a "restaurant" to serve my family members during our lunch break from remote school. This kind of creativity took root in us only because we were spared from the temptation of phone usage stemming from boredom of confinement. However, I was in for a rude awakening when the world returned to normalcy. Without being exposed to my peers' culture during the two-year stretch, I found myself scrambling to stay relatable with the people of my generation. There was a multitude of cultural events that I had simply missed because of my isolation. I ended up working double-time to catch up with my classmates about current events and popular trends, the effects of which drained me. Years passed, and I began to find myself again, but the time I was away from school facilitated a long-term sense of inadequacy in me. I recognize that cultural "catch-up" was not the focal point in my life, but I began to relate more and more to "Jealousy, Jealousy." I nearly starved myself in the summer of 2023 because I was becoming faster on my varsity cross-country team and yearned for athletic prowess. I tried everything to prove to the world that I was worthy of a relationship, relatability, anything that I missed out on because of the isolation I had faced. And yet, I'm grateful to my well-meaning parents; I realize now that avoiding social media had inadvertently placed the pressures on me that they tried so hard to avoid: it is me, not a screen, that must realize my worth.

Metal fork or plastic fork? Though it may be a small decision when you’re in the lunch line, it’s a big decision for our planet. Though many institutions are transitioning to eco-friendly alternatives, CALS’s everyday conservation initiatives are unmatched. CALS’s commitment to sustainable living through its LEED buildings and student-run grocery store shocked me–I’m amazed by such an honored pledge to environmental stewardship. Because of monetary disparities associated with sustainability, I will join the CSC: giving back to the community through free consultations can help disparaged communities go green while alleviating financial burdens. Moreover, Cornell's undergraduate research programs will allow me to contribute my own sustainable solutions to real-world issues: the ability to study at SHOALS Marine Lab in Maine is a prime example of Cornell’s academic scope. Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine research center. BIOMES allowed me in-depth participation in feeding horseshoe crabs, while educating young people about the protection of marine creatures. I was drawn to the CALS Marine Biology minor through Cornell’s partner, SHOALS Marine Lab. While exploring SHOALS, I resonated with the ‘Ecology and the Marine Environment’ course taught by Dr. Rick Zechman, a string player like myself. The immersive, hands-on research experiences offered by this course will equip me with the skills and knowledge necessary to advance my career in marine sustainability research, allowing me to explore the conservation of marine biodiversity and ecosystems in the field. Marine ecological processes have astounded me since I was a kid digging in tide pools, and the dedication of CALS to marine-specific ecology and sustainability furthered my interest in a Marine Biology minor. However, CALS is more than academics. On a rainy tour led by Brune, an E&S major, I was informed of many CALS programs that align with my personal values. While playing violin in cross-state ensembles, I have gained skills such as adaptability and the ability to perform with a group after mere days of practice. These skills will prepare me for entrance into Cornell’s orchestras. My rapture with composer Bela Bartok is even reflected in CCO conductor Gabriela Gomez Estevez’s audition requirements. Additionally, the flexibility of Cornell’s Chamber Orchestra schedule along with open practice rooms excites me beyond belief. The hiker in me is captivated by the beauty of the gorges, the musician is thrilled by the lure of a collegiate orchestra, and the imaginative girl, who went through a significant Harry Potter phase, is fascinated by Cornell's "Hogwarts Library." Yet, what truly sets Cornell apart for me is the opportunity to join a community where I can contribute through sustainable research. I've been advised not to obsess over the environment because I can't fix everything. While I've learned to worry less, I pose a question: if everyone focused only on their needs, where would we be? Cornell offers unparalleled community-based opportunities to pursue my passions. This scholarship will allow me unprecedented assistance with my college education at Cornell. In my pursuit of environmental research, I will be supported by my parents, but, with this scholarship, I hope to give back to them. They have sacrificed so much time and money supporting my endeavors. With this scholarship, I hope to ease the financial burden on my family, while enabling myself to become an active member of society, rebuilding the planet that we love so much.

Metal fork or plastic fork? Though it may be a small decision when you’re in the lunch line, it’s a big decision for our planet. Though many institutions are transitioning to eco-friendly alternatives, CALS’s everyday conservation initiatives are unmatched. CALS’s commitment to sustainable living through its LEED buildings and student-run grocery store shocked me–I’m amazed by such an honored pledge to environmental stewardship. Because of monetary disparities associated with sustainability, I will join the CSC: giving back to the community through free consultations can help disparaged communities go green while alleviating financial burdens. Moreover, Cornell's undergraduate research programs will allow me to contribute my own sustainable solutions to real-world issues: the ability to study at SHOALS Marine Lab in Maine is a prime example of Cornell’s academic scope. Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine research center. BIOMES allowed me in-depth participation in feeding horseshoe crabs, while educating young people about the protection of marine creatures. I was drawn to the CALS Marine Biology minor through Cornell’s partner, SHOALS Marine Lab. While exploring SHOALS, I resonated with the ‘Ecology and the Marine Environment’ course taught by Dr. Rick Zechman, a string player like myself. The immersive, hands-on research experiences offered by this course will equip me with the skills and knowledge necessary to advance my career in marine sustainability research, allowing me to explore the conservation of marine biodiversity and ecosystems in the field. Marine ecological processes have astounded me since I was a kid digging in tide pools, and the dedication of CALS to marine-specific ecology and sustainability furthered my interest in a Marine Biology minor. However, CALS is more than academics. On a rainy tour led by Brune, an E&S major, I was informed of many CALS programs that align with my personal values. While playing violin in cross-state ensembles, I have gained skills such as adaptability and the ability to perform with a group after mere days of practice. These skills will prepare me for entrance into Cornell’s orchestras. My rapture with composer Bela Bartok is even reflected in CCO conductor Gabriela Gomez Estevez’s audition requirements. Additionally, the flexibility of Cornell’s Chamber Orchestra schedule along with open practice rooms excites me beyond belief. The hiker in me is captivated by the beauty of the gorges, the musician is thrilled by the lure of a collegiate orchestra, and the imaginative girl, who went through a significant Harry Potter phase, is fascinated by Cornell's "Hogwarts Library." Yet, what truly sets Cornell apart for me is the opportunity to join a community where I can contribute through sustainable research. I've been advised not to obsess over the environment because I can't fix everything. While I've learned to worry less, I pose a question: if everyone focused only on their needs, where would we be? This is truly why I'm drawn to CALS. Cornell offers unparalleled community-based opportunities to pursue my passions. This scholarship will allow me unprecedented assistance with my college education. In my pursuit of environmental research, I will be supported by my parents, but, with this scholarship, I hope to give back to them. They have sacrificed so much time and money supporting my endeavors. With this scholarship, I hope to ease the financial burden on my family, while enabling myself to become an active member of society, rebuilding the planet that we love so much.

One salad at a time Assemble the ‘guts’: carrot, apple, green pepper, red pepper, avocado, tomato, cucumber. Wash them. Soak the lettuce. Chop the veggies into the bowl, a rainbow of colors. Spin the greens, straining to keep the pace with the overfilled spinner. Fluff them in the bowl–I hope they’ll be enough. It’s a salad, the traditional supplement of my family’s meals. A mix of greens and ‘guts’ topped with chia seeds, nutritional yeast and craisins, and a drizzle of Italian dressing, golden with a hint of spice. My sister and I have a rotation–Friday-Monday for me, Tuesday-Thursday for her. We’ve perfected the system: three heads of lettuce and a full bowl of vegetables lasts two days, maximizing our labor. Growing up, our kitchen was aglow with sizzling garlic and the aroma of my Italian father’s recipes. In our family, salad accompanies every meal–not as a diet substitute, but a cherished tradition blending our parents’ distinct culinary styles. But gosh, I hate to make it. Forty-five minutes of the old chipped knife scraping on the glass cutting board is not the ideal way to spend an evening. Wiping the board after every change of ingredient is tedious, and my fingers are waterlogged after scrubbing produce for ten straight minutes. A clock ticks louder in my ear, a constant reminder of the looming homework deadlines, that violin piece I need to perfect, and the pressure of coordinating my day. The salad isn’t always a blessing when my mind is racing, creating a time-sensitive schedule in order to accomplish every task after nine hours of school and track practice. However, I’ve realized during nights without the salad how much I miss it. Dinner doesn't feel complete when it’s just a burger and tater tots or beans on rice. The salad isn’t just a family tradition, it’s also a reflection on myself. I've learned that investing time in seemingly mundane tasks can yield rewards in the long run; you’ll get that burst of sweet apple or tang of Italian dressing, and you’ll remember why you do it. There is no escaping those days where everything feels tedious–much like there’s no escaping the making of the salad–but my life would be incomplete without its variety of components. Red peppers: cross country and track, sweet but a little crunchy. Difficult. Celery: schoolwork. Mellow but you find a string in your teeth that challenges you. Apples: violin. Sweet. When you find one–much like a great performance–you rejoice. Carrots: work. Slicing them into tiny pieces helps ease the firmness. Cucumber: environmental club. Refreshing to meet people just like you. Lots of seeds involved. Tomatoes: social life. Bright and colorful but sometimes it stings. Avocado: faith. It’s relieving. You miss it when it’s not there. Even with these components, I feel discouraged when I fail to see the cumulative effect of my efforts. But simply returning to the cutting board every day is a testament to my resilience, which has prepared me uniquely for my goal of STEM research. One day, you may wait with bated breath for your study to premier in Scientific Weekly. Other days, your entire time in the lab may be dedicated to cleaning out petri dishes. It’s difficult to handle a career with such contrasting experiences, some seemingly more valuable than others–but, haven’t I been there before? Making the salad reminds me that to create change in life, or even to simply continue, you must find meaning in every little thing. As I set the bowl in the fridge, I’m ready to take on the world, one salad at a time.

My theater director was terrifying. At 6'3 and brusque in mannerisms, one could imagine how, if one was only a freshman, it was a bit scary to audition for him. I had done two musicals with my school at this point, so it was a bit late in the game for me--I didn't expect with as little theater experience I had to get a lead role. And, no surprises there, I didn't. The following year, when I was a sophomore, the musical he chose was small, designed for a lower-budget Broadway production, with many roles filled by the same actors. So, instead of casting me in the musical, my director pulled me aside and suggested that I join the pit orchestra. This was a group of musicians from across the county who provided orchestration for the performance. My first instrument is the violin, so I agreed. The music itself was not difficult, but adjusting to the stress of performing with adult volunteer musicians as a sophomore was alarming. Even though I had diligently practiced, I found myself stumbling through the music and struggling to keep up with the quick directions of our conductor. Eventually, I got the hang of the orchestra, and I really enjoyed it. But, the following year, it was announced that tickets for the performances would no longer be paid for by the audience—the theater arts program in conjunction with the School Board would fund the show so that tickets were free. That year's production was "Matilda the Musical," a hilarious and whimsical show that was one of our best performances. With the addition of free tickets, families from all over the district, no matter their income, were able to come and experience the show. As I performed, four nights in a row, I began to realize the importance of musical theater and its effect on the community. My volunteer performances were well worth the effort—students who never had been able to experience theater were sitting in the audience, soaking up the culture that may never have been available to them otherwise. My own experience was wonderful—I got to do what I was best at, play violin, and although demanding issues such as abject poverty and homelessness may not have been addressed by our show, the extension of theater to all families in the school district set an important precedent for integrating communities. To me, giving back to my community means giving to others what shaped me as a person. Seeing performances at the high school, like Peter Pan when I was ten years old, fostered a love of music and drama in me. Extending that ability to children who may not have been so lucky is integral. Music programs in all schools, especially inner city and in areas of less affluence, boost the well-being of many poor students who may have undiscovered natural talent or simply want to express themselves. My experience with music has been transformative. Practicing daily allows me to vent frustration and exercises my brain. Students who have to help support their family because of financial reasons or are in an abusive household need an outlet. Music reaches through communities and unites them. Through field work, I've honed collaboration and observation skills, essential for tackling the challenges of my prospective field, marine biology. After college, I will research sustainable marine solutions for communities with limited resources, exploring the effect of marine restoration on struggling human populations. Utilizing my biology education, I will lead initiatives to safeguard marine ecosystems and support community resilience, the music of the ocean thrumming in my soul.

Annual visits to the coast of Rhode Island gave me a taste of the ocean, where I interacted with ocean fauna at the BIOMES marine center. There, I learned about horseshoe crabs’ unique feeding techniques: the crabs “scoot” along the ocean floor, dissecting bivalve organisms with their clawed legs and pushing them into their “mouths.” I am fascinated by the biology of horseshoe crabs and other marine arthropods, such as sand crabs. I spent nearly all of my time at the beach racing along the sand flats, scanning for telltale lines indicating their presence. The documentary Seaspiracy, which drove me to pursue Biology, illustrates the devastation of overfishing coupled with crippling climate change. Many communities rely unsustainably on fishing industries, and watching Seaspiracy has shown me the desperate need for research to help communities ensure the future of their environment. Ultimately, my academic goal is to earn a Ph.D. in cetology or a related branch of marine science. I also am considering a wider field of ecosystem study in which I could consult with environmental protection agencies, legal systems, or companies wanting to go clean and ensure their production does not harm the ocean. I strongly believe, though everyone may not feel this way, that the work you do daily should bring only positive energy into the world. Issues like pollution, overfishing, and climate change are crucial to face and work to end. Earlier this year, I became involved with a program called ALA Empire Girls State, a program empowering girls through legislation and governmental processes. I never planned to study politics, feeling unease at being surrounded by individuals much more knowledgeable about it. However, seeing an opportunity to further my interests in environmental conservation, I accepted. At Girls State, I ran for and won the Environmental Conservation Committee Chair, and after three grueling days of bill composition and lobbying for endorsements, we passed our bills addressing pesticides and water pollution. Seeing the State so eager to protect nature thoroughly restored my faith in environmental legislation. Seeing many of my newfound friends run for state offices, many on a whim, awakened a new sense of ambition in me. Conveying my dedication to environmental issues in a letter to the EGS Governor was difficult at 10:30 pm in the stuffy Brockport dorm, but when she announced my name as the State Commissioner for Environmental Conservation, my heart soared. Immersion in such a powerful forum of activists transformed my apprehension into ambition, deepening both argumentation and active listening skills. A platform to advance goals relevant to my studies was unprecedented: I now possess the knowledge of legislation necessary to enter the marine conservation field. In college, undergraduate and graduate research programs will allow me to contribute my own sustainable solutions to real-world issues. Because of financial disparities associated with community sustainability, I will conduct research drawing on my passion for conservation. My fascination with marine life extends beyond academic curiosity; it's a call to action. Witnessing the resilience and complexity of marine arthropods firsthand has instilled in me a sense of responsibility, and being able to create the legislation protecting them firsthand has been invaluable. I am eager to harness this passion into tangible solutions for conservation, driven by the belief that understanding our oceans is integral to sustaining life on Earth.

I am drawn to a career in environmental protection, particularly mitigating the plastic crisis in marine environments. Though my goals may change in college, my current goal is to pursue an undergraduate degree in Marine Biology with an Environmental Science minor, followed by either a M.S. or PhD in Marine Ecology or a related field. My ultimate career goal is to manage a marine conservation effort or research for a university after a doctoral degree. Growing up in New York State, with its lush forests and vast beauty, enabled me to develop a deep appreciation for nature. Hiking in the woods has been a large part of my life since I was a child. My grandparents owned 85 acres of land in the Helderberg region, which is 45 miles west of Albany. My mother passed along the knowledge she gained while living there. This knowledge was instilled in me over the years through her instruction and our adventures as a family. At the age of seven, she enrolled me in Beaver Lake Nature Camp, which I attended every summer until eighth grade. During my summers there, I learned valuable skills such as identifying edible plants(I still enjoy a good handful of wood sorrel now and then), kayaking, performing “bug sweeps,” and even catching the first crawfish found at Beaver Lake in ten years! Throughout my life, the environment has been one of my greatest teachers. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me. I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others(some of my friends will be receiving metal utensil packs for Christmas this year!). Whether it be dispensing generational knowledge of woodland plants, or simply reminding others to “put it in the recycle,” I firmly believe education is the best remedy for the climate crisis. Receiving this scholarship would fund my education, enriching my understanding of environmental stewardship and providing me with the tools and platform to continue to inspire my peers. I am eager to immerse myself in an environment where my passion for the outdoors can flourish, and where I can contribute meaningfully to the preservation and celebration of our planet’s precious ecosystems. Nature has always been such a big part of my life, and the education I'm pursuing will produce a young person eager to combat climate change. Through research projects and legislative appeals, I will continue to fight for our world.

Growing up in New York State, with its lush forests and vast beauty, has enabled me to develop a deep appreciation for nature. Hiking in the woods has been a large part of my life since I was a child. My grandparents owned 85 acres of land in the Helderberg region, which is 45 miles west of Albany. My mother passed along the knowledge she gained while living there. This knowledge was instilled in me over the years through her instruction and our adventures as a family. At the age of seven, she enrolled me in Beaver Lake Nature Camp, which I attended every summer until eighth grade. During my summers there, I learned valuable skills such as identifying edible plants(I still enjoy a good handful of wood sorrel now and then), kayaking, performing “bug sweeps,” and even catching the first crawfish found at Beaver Lake in ten years! Most importantly, I learned the value of giving back to nature through recycling, using alternative packaging materials, and constructing insect housing for hibernation in the winter months. Eventually, I “aged out” of nature camp, and this caused me to realize how much I missed my excursions out to the lake. When COVID hit, I suddenly found my life to be free from the activities I participate in during the school year. This freedom from my busy schedule left a gap open in my time–I was able to explore the wonders of nature without time constraints. I have found both solace and inspiration in the sanctity of the forests. As the world returned to normal, I began running cross-country, which allowed me to rediscover nature’s tranquility through exercise as well as exploration. Through my running experience, I found a way to test my mental strength while also enjoying myself. Running alone in the woods is one of the most freeing experiences I've had; the ground beneath your feet and the trees whispering above you. I have never felt more connected to nature. Throughout my life, the environment has been one of my greatest teachers. The resilience of ecosystems and how they adapt to pollution and climate change inspire me. I have cultivated a profound appreciation for the intricacies of our natural world and a fervent desire to share this knowledge with others. I have chosen a career path in Marine Biology with a minor in Environmental Science. While Marine Biology is my primary career choice, several of the colleges I am considering offer it only as a minor(my major would be Environmental Science). No matter the specifics, I hope to address climate change through consultations and heading state conservation projects such as Save the Sound in NYC. Whether it be dispensing generational knowledge of woodland plants, or simply reminding others to “put it in the recycle,” I firmly believe education is the best remedy for the climate crisis. Environmental research will enrich my understanding of environmental stewardship and provide me with the tools and platform to continue to inspire my peers. I am eager to immerse myself in an environment where my passion for the outdoors can flourish, and where I can contribute meaningfully to the preservation and celebration of our planet’s precious ecosystems. Studying Marine Biology will help me produce valuable research and engineer solutions to rising temperatures and encroachment. Nature has always been at the center of my world, and I see no future for myself but fighting to preserve it.

Post. Like. Share. Comment: A Glimpse into a World Cut Off from the Draw of Social Media "Their win is not my loss." This quote from Olivia Rodrigo's song "Jealousy, Jealousy" perfectly describes my relationship with social media growing up. As a seventeen-year-old girl in high school, the epitome of social intellect was shared on social media platforms such as Instagram and Snapchat, how young people of my generation connected. Almost every relationship that occurred during my years of high school started in the Snap Score, something to which I had no access. Trends, artists, even political events reverberated through the internet algorithm shaping modern American culture. Growing up, I was not allowed social media for any reason. My parents, part of Generation X, are older than the average parent of a teen. This meant that I was expected to live my life as they had lived theirs: devoid of "social" technology that governed my world, yet barely made a dent in theirs. As a kid, I agreed with their views of social media's conspicuous consumption and hindrance of emotional development. I had no choice but to see that they were right: social media has countless negative effects. I was reminded of this later when browsing Stanford News: a new study(and its article by Vignesh Ramachandran) has proven that American social media users are prone to discontent and anger when exposed to others' posts, while Japanese users favor positive aspects when scrolling. This is a direct reflection on Americans' tendency to compare themselves to others. Whether it be political, socio-economic, or spiritual, American cultural divides feature blatantly on social media. This was a reason for my parents' decision to raise my sister and I media-free--so we wouldn't be exposed to so much avoidable negativity. I began to question this "out of sight, out of mind" approach when I was about 15 years old. Returning from COVID, I realized that I was in a much different mental state than many of my peers. During the pandemic, my sister and I created a "restaurant" to serve my family members during our lunch break from remote school. This kind of creativity took root in us only because we were spared from the temptation of phone usage stemming from boredom of confinement. However, I was in for a rude awakening when the world returned to normalcy. Without being exposed to my peers' culture during the two-year stretch, I found myself scrambling to stay relatable with the people of my generation. There was a multitude of cultural events that I had simply missed because of my isolation. I ended up working double-time to catch up with my classmates about current events and popular trends, the effects of which drained me. Years passed, and I began to find myself again, but the time I was away from school facilitated a long-term sense of inadequacy in me. I recognize that cultural "catch-up" was not the focal point in my life, but I began to relate more and more to "Jealousy, Jealousy." I very nearly starved myself in the summer of 2023 because I was becoming faster on my varsity cross-country team and yearned for athletic prowess. I tried everything to prove to the world that I was worthy of a relationship, relatability, anything that I missed out on because of the isolation I had faced. And yet, I'm grateful to my well-meaning parents; I realize now that avoiding social media had inadvertently placed the pressures on me that they tried so hard to avoid: it is me, not a screen, that must realize my worth.

Marine science is an amazingly complex branch of biology. Since I could walk, I've been fascinated with the ocean's ecosystems: coral reefs home to millions of fish, sea turtles, starfish, and infinitely more members of our ocean's wide variety of inhabitants. When my family would take our yearly trek down the Rhode Island coastline, I was always told by my mother to go knee-deep, DO NOT get wet. I got soaked every time. Though I wasn’t sure at first what I wanted to study in this particular area, I knew that I needed to be a part of studying the most mysterious and vastly undiscovered place on earth. I recently discovered that I am fascinated by whales, so my focus during college will be cetology. These gentle giants are incredible; for instance, the way that they hunt is ingenious. Two or more humpbacks create a spiral of bubbles to confuse a group of fish, and while they are suspended motionless, the whales would swoop in for the kill. Also, I was intrigued by the seeming 'trend' of whale songs. Used for mating, males would call to females with a unique song that would often be carried across miles and miles to another male, who would copy the new song. These calls would evolve as they traveled, reflecting the humanlike 'trend' of music climbing the charts. Ultimately, my academic goal is to earn a Ph.D. in cetology or a related branch of marine science. I also am considering a wider field of ecosystem study in which I could consult with environmental protection agencies, legal systems, or companies wanting to go clean and ensure their production does not harm the ocean. I strongly believe, though everyone may not feel this way, that the work you do daily should bring only positive energy into the world. Issues like pollution, overfishing, and climate change are crucial to face and work to end. Personally, my goals are quite simple. As said above, I want to have a career that serves the environment, but I also want to grow as a person. My art is reflective of the love I have for the ocean, and a way in which I can free my mind from the rigor of coursework and remember why I am doing it. Although art is written off as “just a hobby” or its significance disregarded, art can help one connect with what drives oneself to move forward in life. Creating artwork has helped me to feel confident in the path that I have taken in pursuing marine biology, while inspiring me to continue to create art as a part of my journey.

Marine science is an amazingly complex branch of biology. Since I could walk, I've been fascinated with the ocean's ecosystems: coral reefs home to millions of fish, sea turtles, starfish, and infinitely more members of our ocean's wide variety of inhabitants. When my family would take our yearly trek down the Rhode Island coastline, I was always directed by my mother to NOT get wet. Naturally, I got soaked every time. Though I was never exactly sure what I wanted to study in this particular area--all I knew was that I needed to be a part of the study of the most mysterious and vastly undiscovered place on earth. When relaxing with my family after school, we stumbled upon a National Geographic documentary called "Secrets of the Whales." Of course, I was interested in learning about the ocean I had been so drawn to, but my sister and I let out a collective groan at being coerced into another nature documentary when what we wanted to watch was something lighter, something that would make us laugh. Feathers ruffled, I sat back, grumpily resolving that I would not enjoy another monotone, boring lecture about the ocean when what I truly wanted was to be in it. But as I watched, my mood dissolved into wonder. This one was different--instead of zoning out, I was rapt with attention. I learned things I never knew about the gentle giants, for instance, the way that they hunt is incredible. Two or more humpbacks create a spiral of bubbles to confuse a group of fish, and while they are suspended motionless, the whales would swoop in for the kill. Also, I was intrigued by the seeming 'trend' of whale songs. Used for mating, males would call to females with a unique song that would often be carried across miles and miles to another male, who would copy the new song. These calls would evolve as they traveled, reflecting the humanlike 'trend' of music climbing the charts. This documentary spurred me to pursue cetology, the study of whales. Their impressive cognitive ability and emotional range(that is remarkably similar to humans and elephants) are where I'd like to spend my time and energy in the marine science field. Ultimately, my academic goal is to earn a Ph.D. in cetology or a related branch of marine science. I also am considering a wider field of ecosystem study in which I could consult with environmental protection agencies, legal systems, or companies wanting to "go clean" and ensure their production does not harm the ocean. Besides the most important aspect of achieving clarity on what I wish to study, I have also worked tirelessly to set myself up for success. Throughout my junior high/high school career, I have reached into many different areas of my life and truly dedicate myself to flourish in every one of them. Although my extra-curricular activities, such as All-State Orchestra, Cross Country/Track athletics, Environmental Club, and volunteer clubs(Rotary Interact) have given me valuable skills and opportunities, I believe it is my attitude that has enabled me to succeed. While the temptation to procrastinate studying or doing important college research is inviting, I choose every day what I consider to be most valuable for success: hard work. Personally, my goals are quite simple. As said above, I desire a career that serves the environment, but I also value growth as a person. As do many individuals, I hope to pursue my goals in a way that allows me to be a kinder human being in a world wrought with adversity.

Like Malgorzata, no one could ever say my name right. My parents found it in a baby name book, and I'm sure they found it intriguing, unique. It's Nia(nee-uh), which really is not that hard to pronounce. But, even this tiny obstacle can prove insurmountable when you're a high schooler. Eventually, I learned to love my name and my uniqueness, even though about every substitute teacher I ever had would say it wrong. But, in a world of Mikes and Jennys, it's hard to be a Nia. This particular difference was never too bothersome, as I excelled academically and in other areas of my life. I never balk at a challenge; last year, I joined the track/XC team for the first time as a high school sophomore. Getting my aerobic capability up to the level of my teammates who have been running since middle school was challenging, I'll admit. But now, as a second-year runner, I'm making my way up the pacing ranks. Connecting with nature and pushing myself across the cross-country terrain is truly a huge step in my journey. But, as a prospective marine biology PhD student, I expect to pay for my college tuition entirely on my own. I come from a single-income family who works very hard to save money wherever we can. My parents are extremely savvy, and the only reason we are doing as well as we are right now is because of their financial intelligence. However, I am facing over $100,000 worth of debt if I pursue my goal of a doctoral degree in marine science, and I truly need this scholarship. I have loved the ocean my whole life, and, like Malgorzata, I plan to become an expert on the teeming ecosystems that make up over 70% of our planet(I plan to minor(or concentrate) on cetology, the study of whales). As an academically-focused female, I often find myself in male-dominated STEM classes, which is a disappointing sign of how society has not encouraged women into the world of science. With this scholarship, I hope to be a pioneer in the field of marine-based research. Malgorzata, and countless other women in STEM inspire me to become one of the people to show the world that women are powerful, not just beautiful, and have a voice and a mind as well as just a heart. Although my struggles may never be as difficult as Maggie's, I will never give up on my dream. I am Nia, a woman in STEM, and I am bold.

Marine science is an amazingly complex branch of biology. Since I could walk, I've been fascinated with the ocean's ecosystems: coral reefs home to millions of fish, sea turtles, starfish, and infinitely more members of our ocean's wide variety of inhabitants. When my family would take our yearly trek down the Rhode Island coastline, I was always told by my mother to go knee-deep, DO NOT get wet. I got soaked every time. Though I was never exactly sure what I wanted to study in this particular area--all I knew was that I needed to be a part of the study of the most mysterious and vastly undiscovered place on earth. When relaxing with my family after school, we stumbled upon a National Geographic documentary called "Secrets of the Whales." Of course, I was interested in learning about the ocean I had been so drawn to, but my sister and I let out a collective groan at being coerced into another nature documentary when what we wanted to watch was sitcoms. Feathers ruffled, I sat back, grumpily resolving that I would not enjoy another monotone, boring lecture about the ocean when what I truly wanted was to be in it. But as I watched, my mood dissolved into wonder. This one was different--instead of zoning out, I was rapt with attention. I learned things I never knew about the gentle giants, for instance, the way that they hunt is incredible. Two or more humpbacks create a spiral of bubbles to confuse a group of fish, and while they are suspended motionless, the whales would swoop in for the kill. Also, I was intrigued by the seeming 'trend' of whale songs. Used for mating, males would call to females with a unique song that would often be carried across miles and miles to another male, who would copy the new song. These calls would evolve as they traveled, reflecting the humanlike 'trend' of music climbing the charts. This documentary spurred me to pursue cetology, the study of whales. Their impressive cognitive ability and emotional range(that is remarkably similar to humans and elephants) are where I'd like to spend my time and energy in the marine science field. Ultimately, my academic goal is to earn a Ph.D. in cetology or a related branch of marine science. I also am considering a wider field of ecosystem study in which I could consult with environmental protection agencies, legal systems, or companies wanting to go clean and ensure their production does not harm the ocean. I strongly believe, though everyone may not feel this way, that the work you do daily should bring only positive energy into the world. Issues like pollution, overfishing, and climate change are crucial to face and work to end. Personally, my goals are quite simple. As said above, I want to have a career that serves the environment, but I also want to grow as a person. As do many individuals, I wish to let go of my need for outward validation and focus inwardly, be in love someday, and be a kinder human being in a world wrought with adversity.

Books are windows into the soul. This is a famous quote by Henry Ward Beecher. Books have helped me look inside myself and discover things I was not aware of, and things I never imagined for myself. Reading the experiences and stories of others can help one grow exponentially-which is the one true goal in life. The book 'Tuesdays with Morrie' changed my life. As a high school sophomore, I often thought I had life figured out: how much more could there be? Friends, fights, school--what could be more emotionally taxing? I hadn't read in ages when I picked this one out. It was a recommendation from my mother, and although I had turned it down before, thinking it would be just another boring 'life lessons' book, it called to me right there on the shelf. As I examined the dusty binding, well-worn from years of use, I wondered what it could contain. I soon found that the lessons of Morrie, a real professor who taught at Brandeis University, were some of the most profound ones I'd ever learn. Though nothing can compare to going through a difficult time, his recollections on love, relationships with family, the mind, education, and every facet of the human experience were not dusty old professor's tales: they could be applied to my life here and now. One of the most touching parts of his memoirs was the part where he hugged the narrator and simply told him he was not angry but grateful for the life he had left. Being torn apart from the inside, he suffered from ALS. But instead of letting the self-pity drown him, he chose to truly live the last bit of life he had been given. He strove to remember people and places and from each, extract the raw fiber of a lesson: an opportunity to grow and to truly live. That is why everyone should open this book sometime in their life. Tuesdays with Morrie teaches us how to live--and most importantly, live with love.

Why are our minds set up to tear us down? As a kid growing up in a high-profile district(for the state of New York), I have always faced the overbearing shadow of success. Extremely competitive music and athletic departments, not to mention qualified and renowned staff essentially put Baldwinsville Central School District on the map. With such a productive school environment, how could a student possibly fail? Even with advocacy of mental health and programs set up to help students in the face of adversity, I still felt a block. It must be a face, I thought. For show. Following my appeal to the Board of Education regarding students' response to the abolition of snow days, my heart sank when the letter arrived claiming that the NYS Education Department had mandated this, and not even the Board, let alone an eighth-grade girl, could change their minds. So why, then, was it preached that students' best interests were at heart? I have never struggled with a serious mental disorder. The tendrils of depression and anxiety over an overdeveloped curriculum and extremely competitive after-school activities have strangled those around me. Even with the tsunami of schoolwork, music, and sports I face every day, I've faltered, but never fallen to the point I couldn't get up. We've tried to prove what's going on. Screens, shortening attention spans, insecure parents living vicariously through their children-you name it. But the thing I've pinned down is this: competition. I've wanted to be a marine biologist since I discovered an application to my love of the ocean-around seventh grade. My minor goals have changed, morphing from journalism to novelism to psychology. Writing in my spare time has helped me with character-building techniques and plot development. Perhaps this take on society has helped me see what has been right under my nose. Even without a diagnosed stress disorder, I can feel the weight on my back to do right. So, you want to be in marine science? Take coastal vacations. Take classes that cost over $2,000. Research in your spare time. What spare time? Even my parents acknowledge the gargantuan workload that overwhelms students. Suddenly, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy has a name. Competition, every day. From my elementary days, being the first to complete the math to now, competing with the seniors in the orchestra for the principal of the section. I still have no idea how I should pursue my dreams of marine science, partly because of the lack of time I have. This wasn't working. Even if I could buckle down and do it, even if I could still be at the top of the class, how could I look out for myself? I had been told to slow down, to stop looking for the next thing without truly retaining the one I'd just experienced. I was at the point where I was finally willing to try something else. To let myself grow. It's not simple, but instead of looking at the grades on my paper as definitive, I saw them as an opportunity. I saw the flashcards I made not as a step toward the finish line, but as a step toward an expanded mind. I stopped seeing the extracurriculars I chose as points on a resume, but as a way to enrich my life, to build the thing that is me.

Humankind should love each other. As a member of St. Augustine’s Catholic Church and Rotary Interact Club, I am exposed to multiple ways to serve the community on a regular basis. St. Augustine’s requires two service events completed during the year of a person’s Confirmation, but through my years of church, I have been able to connect with elderly and destitute members of the community. My mother is devoted to aiding the needy; every year she, my sister, and I venture into the bustle of Christmas chaos to purchase gifts for children in shelters, the food pantry, and the local Christmas bureau. Though I have never met anyone I have given a gift to, I can imagine how difficult it must be to be deprived of daily necessities-and simply amusements. However, individuals with no income or an abusive family atmosphere aren’t the only ones in need of assistance. Every year, my elementary school(and Girl Scout troop-which I am sadly no longer a part of since its dissolution) would visit the Silver Fox Senior Center and sing Christmas carols. We were quite possibly not the most in-tune of choirs, but seeing the faces of people who, if it had worked out differently, might have been my grandparents. I always enjoyed this because I had lost three of my grandparents at a young age-all due to cancer. I missed visiting them, so talking with the elderly at Silver Fox was a lovely substitute. During a breakfast at my school, the same individuals were asked to come and dine with the kids so as to better know us and improve our relationships. I was slightly wary of this encounter, however, being a slightly awkward fourth grader, but in the short amount of time, I managed to make friends with nearly all of the older women at our table. I can’t recall their names now, but a few who made an impact were a retired music teacher-I was a budding violin student at the time- and two kind ladies from Sicily. My Noni had immigrated from Italy when she was fourteen years old, and it was refreshing to hear the stories of the Old Country she never told me. Around this time in my life, I decided to pursue my love of the ocean and study marine sciences. I have always had an affinity for animals-in the same year, I raised $110 for a primate sanctuary in England by selling rubber band bracelets I made on my loom. I searched out ways to help daily with the growing plastic pollution that ravages the shores and depths still. To my delight, I stumbled upon a website called Free The Ocean: a website where one could play daily trivia, and sponsors of the site would pay people in need of work to clean up plastic from the shoreline. I am currently at 469 pieces of plastic removed. Coming up in my later years, the COVID-19 pandemic swept the globe, closing schools and isolating students. Hours of staring at a computer screen caused exhaustion and shortened attention spans. Furthermore, at the introduction of the e-learning day(to replace the snow day), students like myself were outraged. In response to this, I composed an essay and petition with over 300 signatures and presented it to the Board. The following year, a snow day graced our district. I am planning to study Marine Sciences in college. Though it’s not categorized as ‘travel,’ it is my dream to study coastlines around the world and restore ecosystems. Our ocean is a tremendously important resource, and it is our duty to protect it.

Ninth grade. Not a particularly easy time in a kid's life. Teenagerhood is often romanticized by adults: massive demons sitting inside your head waved off with a simple 'you're so young, it'll pass.' My teenagerhood wasn't too different than the average kid's, I guess, but when it's coupled with an inescapable feeling of inadequacy-then, well, what can you do? When I auditioned for Baker High School's notorious annual play, I didn't expect to get in, let alone land a supporting lead role. My part as an ancestor of the main character allowed me to improve my acting skills, as well as my social ones. Returning to school after a global pandemic, after all, can damage your self-image. Scanning the cast list, an exuberant me lept with glee at the result. My close friends had also landed principal roles. The group chat exploded with our jubilant congratulations, each message seemingly more intense than the last. I could not wait for the first rehearsal. I counted down the minutes, down to the very second the bell rang that day. I sank into a chair near the front of the scaled risers, eyes darting around, scoping out what everyone else seemed to be doing. To my surprise, none of my friends seemed daunted by this new experience. They, after all, had been in the previous musical, during which I was away on vacation. We were all a little intimidated by the somewhat cold musical director, but as time went on, he lost the edge to which I clung with fear. Soon enough, the director settled us down and began to introduce the show, pass out Librettos, and, to my dismay, had us run our lines. Now, I had never seen these lines before, and when it was my turn to read, my voice was shaky and cracked. I gulped, clearly blushing with embarrassment. What had I gotten myself into? As the days went by, it got easier to read my lines. Read them. But, no matter what I did, I could not seem to memorize them. Even the night of the show, I still tripped up, frantically questioning my infamously short memory, searching for a 'memory picture' of the script. Standing on the stage, I couldn't feel natural-something was always off. Stop. Breathe. Adjust Posture. It didn't help that I couldn't dance, either. I was too busy censoring everything I said, did, even how I moved. As an effect of my two-year isolation, I was an extremely self-conscious kid. Every time, I was reminded of the (simple) steps, they'd slip away. It was infuriating. I got frustrated and even cried at one point. I would never be an actor, like my peers. But deep down, I wanted to sing, wanted to act, wanted to show the world that this girl is more than just high grades, more than long, straight hair and perfect grammar. I wanted to be real. Be raw. Emotion and passion and everything I felt inside: I wanted it to spill out across the stage through my words and movements and reach right to the audience and make them feel, well, something. A fraction of what I did. Even though it never did click for me, I still value that performance. I received congratulations from my friends and family and reassurance that I did look natural. But when I stood on the stage that night, faced my fears and just sang, I felt alive for a moment. I may not have been the star, but I made a difference that night. To myself.