For many individuals, both young and old, Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson has served as an exceptional role model. With the catchphrase "Science be trippy, yo!" he has made learning astronomy more enticing. Tyson retells history, discusses contemporary space exploration, and speculates about where we might go next.

I was at the side entrance of my school waiting to enter. A student yelled, "Watch out!" from a distance. I was soon rammed to the cold concrete pavement with a student standing on top of me, kicking me on the side of my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw John attacking me. Soon a teacher ran to my aid and relieved John from on top of me. I began to lay near senseless on the icy pavement. While being carried by students to the nurse's office, minutes seemed to feel like hours. I started reflecting upon the negative comments John had spoken against me over the years. "You're such a nigger!" "You'll be just like your father!" "When did they allow monkeys in school?" I was then rushed to the hospital leaving with a knee immobilizer and OcuMend healing pads to cover the bruises all over my chest. Upon arrival home, my mother had to bathe me. In this instance, I felt utterly powerless. I believed as if the world was against me. I kept thinking to myself, "why me." I felt like a hostage in my mind battling with recurring thoughts of how "I was a burden upon my mother; her life would be better without me; I couldn’t do anything." My life began to feel like an endless hallway leading to a dungeon of sorrow, but seeing my sickly mother aid me through this difficult time made me realize it wasn’t worth it. The trauma of Tuesday, December 6, 2016, is something I will never forget. Every day I’m reminded by the darkened marks on my chest and legs. But the pain from this incident still continues to give me strength. Looking back, I had no idea what I was capable of or what kind of person I was yet to become. I dreamt of looking myself in the mirror and being proud of the person I saw. Before this assault, I never understood the true importance of the basic resources I possessed until I was stripped of them. Every day I am thankful for the triumphs and challenges that I face. I no longer ask myself, "why did this happen to me?" when facing an obstacle. I now ask myself, "what is this situation trying to teach me?" I learned three life-altering lessons from that day—my personal three "Be's" for life. 1. Become the person who you would look up to. 2. Be thankful for everything. 3. Be ambitious and courageous. To encourage myself towards accomplishing goals, I tell myself, "John is right behind me." This short phrase has motivated me to become the first entrepreneur in my family, create one of the largest civic education platforms in the US, and become one of the top regarded debaters in the country, but more importantly, prompted me to become a better person. Today, I still face challenges and will continue to face hardships in the future, but I will rise above the opposition.

I grew up surrounded by family members that lived paycheck to paycheck and often struggled to pay for electricity. Unfortunately, my family members did not have access to affordable clean energy sources like solar energy due to lack of accessibility resulting in high electricity bills. As a result, I became interested in clean energy. It became apparent that solar energy is a great solution to expand access to affordable electricity while averting global catastrophic climate change. Therefore, many governments aim to switch to clean energy with solar energy immersing as a top solution. Harnessing electrical energy from the sun is an excellent source of energy underutilized. Over the last decade, solar energy has gone from an expensive novelty to the cheapest and fastest-growing power source on Earth. There is untapped potential in solar energy as it only supplies just two percent of the world's electricity. This leaves tremendous room for it to grow in the market. Solar power needs to attract trillions of dollars to fuel its rise. The solar industry needs to utilize the lessons gained from the fossil fuel, automobile, and mortgage industries and bundle together solar projects so that large institutional investors feel satisfied buying and trading them. As more money is invested in the solar energy industry, its market share will only continue to increase with the hopes of deposing fossil fuels. Although solar energy has great financial potential, if there is no innovation of solar energy products, the market share growth will diminish and lose the momentum that it needs to unseat fossil fuels as the marketplace's monopoly. Often solar panels are thought of as expensive, bulky, and unappealing. But due to solar energy innovations, solar panels are more affordable, thin, and aesthetically pleasing. Solar panels are now made with perovskites, a next-generation technology that is lightweight and flexible with colorful coatings that not only provide clean energy but improve the visual landscape. The continued deployment of perovskite solar panels will reduce solar cost, further increasing solar energy access. While stagnation in solar productivity is detrimental on a global scale as it will hinder the solar revolution fueled by the need for clean and affordable energy sources, so will the lack of infrastructure. Infrastructure in solar energy will allow any progress to sustain and propel solar energy forward. While financial support and innovation, and solar energy are helpful, governments need to implement physical and organizational structures that support solar energy's sustainable functionality. In the coming years, there could be continent-spanning power grids that link sun-drenched deserts to power-hungry cities allowing access to affordable and clean energy. But governments would need to dedicate time and resources to create a framework that enables affordable and clean energy options to not only companies but for citizens. In my own life, I know affordable clean energy like solar would have empowered my family to have easier access to electricity. I can only think of the positive influence that solar energy could have globally when it comes to access to energy.

My earliest memories came from instability. I was born into a divorced world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). I came to value community through its absence. I founded Civic Wave and the Edison Civic Change, which became a microcosm of a family I lacked. The Edison Civic Change consists of members from various racial and ethical groups. Within a safe and open environment, we encourage all participants to share their thoughts, feelings, and solutions. We have an honest dialogue about respecting the views and values of everyone. We validate each other. As a result, we promote racial equality and promote respect within our school and community. After attending political events and local government meetings, I was approached by an elective official to assist with developing support for the implementation of S854 and S237. These two New Jersey laws require the provision of civics instruction in public schools. The aforementioned laws mandate that each board of education must provide a course of study about the values and principles underlying the American system of constitutional democracy, the function and limitations of government, and a citizen's role in a democratic society. Civic Wave is an organization that I have co-founded, empowering New Jersey's youth to advocate for legislation that advances civic education within the public school system. At Civic Wave, our team believes that investing in civic education will prepare students, regardless of race, religion, or sexuality, to be informed, connected, and engaged members of their communities. Civic Wave began by raising awareness towards bills NJ S237 and S854. These two bills' passing requires civics education courses to be included in the New Jersey public school curriculum. This would result in an increased understanding of how our government works and create more informed voters. Through the many discussions I've hosted at the Edison Civic Change, I've realized disconnection between the people around me. Before I could build a community or recognize my potential as a leader, I learned what an ideal community was through research and reading. I had to know who I was and what my passions are. Only when I spend time learning what I care for can I ask others to join me. I learned leadership foundations through my efforts with the Edison Civic Change and Civic Wave. Leaders know how to align their actions with their character. A good leader empowers others to find their voice and recognize their strengths. Now realizing this problem, I saw an opportunity to pay attention and help build a sense of common unity within my community and expand my horizons in the future.

I grew up surrounded by family members that lived paycheck to paycheck and often struggled to pay for electricity. Unfortunately, my family members did not have access to affordable clean energy sources like solar energy due to lack of accessibility resulting in high electricity bills. As a result, I became interested in clean energy. It became apparent that solar energy is a great solution to expand access to affordable electricity while averting global catastrophic climate change. Therefore, many governments aim to switch to clean energy with solar energy immersing as a top solution. Harnessing electrical energy from the sun is an excellent source of energy underutilized. Over the last decade, solar energy has gone from an expensive novelty to the cheapest and fastest-growing power source on Earth. There is untapped potential in solar energy as it only supplies just two percent of the world's electricity. This leaves tremendous room for it to grow in the market. Solar power needs to attract trillions of dollars to fuel its rise. The solar industry needs to utilize the lessons gained from the fossil fuel, automobile, and mortgage industries and bundle together solar projects so that large institutional investors feel satisfied buying and trading them. As more money is invested in the solar energy industry, its market share will only continue to increase with the hopes of deposing fossil fuels. Although solar energy has great financial potential, if there is no innovation of solar energy products, the market share growth will diminish and lose the momentum that it needs to unseat fossil fuels as the marketplace's monopoly. Often solar panels are thought of as expensive, bulky, and unappealing. But due to solar energy innovations, solar panels are more affordable, thin, and aesthetically pleasing. Solar panels are now made with perovskites, a next-generation technology that is lightweight and flexible with colorful coatings that not only provide clean energy but improve the visual landscape. The continued deployment of perovskite solar panels will reduce solar cost, further increasing solar energy access. While stagnation in solar productivity is detrimental on a global scale as it will hinder the solar revolution fueled by the need for clean and affordable energy sources, so will the lack of infrastructure. Infrastructure in solar energy will allow any progress to sustain and propel solar energy forward. While financial support and innovation, and solar energy are helpful, governments need to implement physical and organizational structures that support solar energy's sustainable functionality. In the coming years, there could be continent-spanning power grids that link sun-drenched deserts to power-hungry cities allowing access to affordable and clean energy. But governments would need to dedicate time and resources to create a framework that enables affordable and clean energy options to not only companies but for citizens. In my own life, I know affordable clean energy like solar would have empowered my family to have easier access to electricity. I can only think of the positive influence that solar energy could have globally when it comes to access to energy.

8:23 am, Tuesday, December 6, 2016 I was at the side entrance of my school waiting to enter. A student yelled, "Nick, Nick, Watch out!" from a distance. I was soon rammed to the cold concrete pavement with a student standing on top of me, kicking me on the side of my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw John attacking me. Soon a teacher ran to my aid and relieved John from on top of me. I began to lay near senseless on the icy pavement. While being carried by students to the nurse's office, minutes seemed to feel like hours. I started reflecting upon the negative comments John had spoken against me over the years. "You're such a nigger!" "You'll be just like your father!" "When did they allow monkeys in school?" While being examined by the nurse, she touched various parts of my body affected by the beating. She continually asked, "Does this feel ok?" I replied, "I feel fine,"  knowing that this wasn’t the truth. My mother had just recovered from thyroid treatment, and she was alone in taking care of me. I worried my mom and peers would see me in a vulnerable state. I felt as if I was the one to blame for someone else’s actions. Later that night, at 5:30 pm, my mother received a call notifying her of the incident earlier. She then drove me directly to the closest hospital. I left the hospital with a knee immobilizer and OcuMend healing pads to cover the bruises all over my chest. Upon arrival home, my mother had to wash me in the shower. I felt utterly powerless. I believed as if the world was against me, all alone with no one by my side. I kept thinking to myself, "why me." I contemplated thoughts about ending my life, but seeing my sickly mother aid me through this difficult time made me realize it wasn’t worth it. For the year, I needed assistance in simple tasks such as bathing, walking, using the bathroom, and much more. I felt like a hostage in my mind battling with recurring thoughts of how "I was a burden upon my mother; her life would be better without me; I couldn’t do anything." My life began to feel like an endless hallway leading to a dungeon of sorrow. The trauma of Tuesday, December 6, 2016, is something I will never forget. Every day I’m reminded by the darkened marks on my chest and legs. But the pain from this incident still continues to give me strength. Looking back, I had no idea what I was capable of or what kind of person I was yet to become. I dreamt of looking myself in the mirror and being proud of the person I saw. Before this assault, I never understood the true importance of the basic resources I possessed until I was stripped of them. Every day I am thankful for the triumphs and challenges that I face. I no longer ask myself, "why did this happen to me?" when facing an obstacle. I now ask myself, "what is this situation trying to teach me?" I learned three life-altering lessons from that day—my personal three "Be's" for life. 1. Become the person who you would look up to. 2. Be thankful for everything. 3. Be ambitious and courageous. To encourage myself towards accomplishing goals, I tell myself, "John is right behind me." This short phrase has motivated me to become the first entrepreneur in my family, create one of the largest civic education platforms in the US, and become one of the top regarded debaters in the country, but more importantly, prompted me to become a better person. Today, I still face challenges and will continue to face hardships in the future, but I will rise above the opposition and raise the bar higher.

8:23 am, Tuesday, December 6, 2016 I was at the side entrance of my school waiting to enter. A student yelled, "Nick, Nick, Watch out!" from a distance. I was soon rammed to the cold concrete pavement with a student standing on top of me, kicking me on the side of my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw John attacking me. Soon a teacher ran to my aid and relieved John from on top of me. I began to lay near senseless on the icy pavement. While being carried by students to the nurse's office, minutes seemed to feel like hours. I started reflecting upon the negative comments John had spoken against me over the years. "You're such a nigger!" "You'll be just like your father!" "When did they allow monkeys in school?" While being examined by the nurse, she touched various parts of my body affected by the beating. She continually asked, "Does this feel ok?" I replied, "I feel fine,"  knowing that this wasn’t the truth. My mother had just recovered from thyroid treatment, and she was alone in taking care of me. I worried my mom and peers would see me in a vulnerable state. I felt as if I was the one to blame for someone else’s actions. Later that night, at 5:30 pm, my mother received a call notifying her of the incident earlier. She then drove me directly to the closest hospital. I left the hospital with a knee immobilizer and OcuMend healing pads to cover the bruises all over my chest. Upon arrival home, my mother had to wash me in the shower. I felt utterly powerless. I believed as if the world was against me, all alone with no one by my side. I kept thinking to myself, "why me." I contemplated thoughts about ending my life, but seeing my sickly mother aid me through this difficult time made me realize it wasn’t worth it. For the year, I needed assistance in simple tasks such as bathing, walking, using the bathroom, and much more. I felt like a hostage in my mind battling with recurring thoughts of how "I was a burden upon my mother; her life would be better without me; I couldn’t do anything." My life began to feel like an endless hallway leading to a dungeon of sorrow. The trauma of Tuesday, December 6, 2016, is something I will never forget. Every day I’m reminded by the darkened marks on my chest and legs. But the pain from this incident still continues to give me strength. Looking back, I had no idea what I was capable of or what kind of person I was yet to become. I dreamt of looking myself in the mirror and being proud of the person I saw. Before this assault, I never understood the true importance of the basic resources I possessed until I was stripped of them. Every day I am thankful for the triumphs and challenges that I face. I no longer ask myself, "why did this happen to me?" when facing an obstacle. I now ask myself, "what is this situation trying to teach me?" I learned three life-altering lessons from that day—my personal three "Be's" for life. 1. Become the person who you would look up to. 2. Be thankful for everything. 3. Be ambitious and courageous. To encourage myself towards accomplishing goals, I tell myself, "John is right behind me." This short phrase has motivated me to become the first entrepreneur in my family, create one of the largest civic education platforms in the US, and become one of the top regarded debaters in the country, but more importantly, prompted me to become a better person. Today, I still face challenges and will continue to face hardships in the future, but I will rise above the opposition and raise the bar higher.

Did you know that the sun beams down more energy in an hour than the entire world uses in a year? As the world races to avert catastrophic climate change, the sun offers by far the most abundant source of clean energy. And by harnessing it, countries can power economic growth, expand electricity access, and reduce energy imports. Over the last decade, solar energy has gone from an expensive novelty to the cheapest and fastest-growing power source on Earth. But the fact of the matter is we could squander its potential if we don't plan for the future. I believe three types of innovation are needed to unlock solar's full potential. The first innovation is financial. Currently, solar needs to attract trillions of dollars to fuel its rise. The solar industry needs to utilize the lessons gained from the fossil fuel, automobile, and mortgage industries in order to make large institutional investors feel satisfied buying and trading solar. But just as soon as solar propels over this hurdle, it could run into many more severe obstacles, known as value deflation. In all, the investment will help the industry produce and deploy more solar panels, driving down the cost of building a new solar project. But the bad news is that the value of the electricity produced by solar will plunge even faster. As more solar panels come online, they'll flood the grid with power in the middle of the day but shut off when the sunsets. Overcoming this barrier starts with technological innovation. Breakthroughs in solar technology will cause the cost of solar to plunge, enabling more solar to be deployed economically. Next-generation technologies, such as perovskites, already exist in laboratories. They will transform today's bulky, rigid and unappealing solar panels into lightweight, flexible, and colorful coatings that will cover tomorrow's cityscapes worldwide. Additionally, developing advanced solar thermal plants could convert the sun's energy into heat and use that heat to continuously generate power rather than just during segments of the day. Artificial leaf technology can harness sunlight to make portable fuels, finally making oil obsolete. Still, even with these two types of innovation, solar will need a third to limit the decline of its value as more of it's deployed. And that would be systemic innovation, which includes continent-spanning power grids that link sun-drenched deserts to power-hungry cities. These innovative energy systems would preserve solar's value by ensuring that solar power can be used no matter when produced or how it fluctuates. Promoting all three kinds of innovation will require urgent investments by governments worldwide. Suppose we can capitalize on this current opportunity. In that case, the twenty-first century will finally be the one in which humankind secures cheap, clean, and virtually limitless energy all by taming the sun.

Music can aid, comfort, motivate and help individuals of all backgrounds. Listening to music and making music has become an art that has transformed my life. I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening. From the inside, there's more to be told. I recall my grandmother taking me to the park on Sundays after church seeing men and women drive unlicensed taxis, selling water guns, clothes, and seafood dinners to help their families survive. This showed me how much further you can go even when you believe you have driven all of your options. Although my grandmother's home wasn't ideal living, and the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, growing up, I never cared about what we didn't have or how the house looked. I cared about what we did and the memories we created together. The song "What is Love" by Haddaway symbolizes all of the times I have spent with my grandmother.

8:23 am, Tuesday, December 6, 2016 I was at the side entrance of my school waiting to enter. A student yelled, "Nick, Nick, Watch out!" from a distance. I was soon rammed to the cold concrete pavement with a student standing on top of me, kicking me on the side of my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw John attacking me. Soon a teacher ran to my aid and relieved John from on top of me. I began to lay near senseless on the icy pavement. While being carried by students to the nurse's office, minutes seemed to feel like hours. I started reflecting upon the negative comments John had spoken against me over the years. "You're such a nigger!" "You'll be just like your father!" "When did they allow monkeys in school?" While being examined by the nurse, she touched various parts of my body affected by the beating. She continually asked, "Does this feel ok?" I replied, "I feel fine,"  knowing that this wasn’t the truth. My mother had just recovered from thyroid treatment, and she was alone in taking care of me. I worried my mom and peers would see me in a vulnerable state. I felt as if I was the one to blame for someone else’s actions. Later that night, at 5:30 pm, my mother received a call notifying her of the incident earlier. She then drove me directly to the closest hospital. I left the hospital with a knee immobilizer and OcuMend healing pads to cover the bruises all over my chest. Upon arrival home, my mother had to wash me in the shower. I felt utterly powerless. I believed as if the world was against me, all alone with no one by my side. I kept thinking to myself, "why me." I contemplated thoughts about ending my life, but seeing my sickly mother aid me through this difficult time made me realize it wasn’t worth it. For the year, I needed assistance in simple tasks such as bathing, walking, using the bathroom, and much more. I felt like a hostage in my mind battling with recurring thoughts of how "I was a burden upon my mother; her life would be better without me; I couldn’t do anything." My life began to feel like an endless hallway leading to a dungeon of sorrow. The trauma of Tuesday, December 6, 2016, is something I will never forget. Every day I’m reminded by the darkened marks on my chest and legs. But the pain from this incident still continues to give me strength. Looking back, I had no idea what I was capable of or what kind of person I was yet to become. I dreamt of looking myself in the mirror and being proud of the person I saw. Before this assault, I never understood the true importance of the basic resources I possessed until I was stripped of them. Every day I am thankful for the triumphs and challenges that I face. I no longer ask myself, "why did this happen to me?" when facing an obstacle. I now ask myself, "what is this situation trying to teach me?" I learned three life-altering lessons from that day—my personal three "Be's" for life. 1. Become the person who you would look up to. 2. Be thankful for everything. 3. Be ambitious and courageous. To encourage myself towards accomplishing goals, I tell myself, "John is right behind me." This short phrase has motivated me to become the first entrepreneur in my family, create one of the largest civic education platforms in the US, and become one of the top regarded debaters in the country, but more importantly, prompted me to become a better person. Today, I still face challenges and will continue to face hardships in the future, but I will rise above the opposition and raise the bar higher.

My earliest memories came from instability. I was born into a divorced world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening, but there's more to be told from the inside. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8. I made a promise to unify my family. I wanted to spend time with a family, go on road trips, play in the park, and more. I wanted to be accepted; it didn't matter by who, but just accepted. I came to value community through its absence. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears, along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people, and the more I related, the more connected I became. I knew my life was hard compared to most, but some people had it more challenging than me. Because of my vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to sharing their faults and failures. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals, along with myself, by providing safety around the threats of merely going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself; in this community, I found my mission, and in this community, I found my family.

The Civic Wave and Edison Civic Change Collective are student-created organizations. I am the finance manager and founding member of Civic Wave. As a founding member of Civic Wave, I worked with elective officials to secure access to civic education within New Jersey public schools with legislative bills S854 and S237. I am the co-founder of Edison Civic Change Collective. As an advocate and seminar host, I educate members on the history of movements and activism triggered by local and global issues. After attending political events and local government meetings, I was approached by an elective official to assist with developing support for the implementation of S854 and S237, two New Jersey laws which require the provision of civics instruction in middle schools. The aforementioned laws mandate that each board of education must provide a course of study about the values and principles underlying the American system of constitutional democracy, the function and limitations of government, and the role of a citizen in a democratic society.

Before hosting discussions at the Edison Civic Change, I've noticed a lack of community in my hometown. Recognizing this flaw, I strived to build community in three ways: Through the connection of minds in discourse. Through a spiritual bond that allows individuals the ability to feel more connected to the world. Through the relationship with citizens, when one can join a group and create an impact. Before I could build a community, I learned what an ideal society was through research. I had to know who I was and what my passions are. Only when I spend time to learn what I care for am I able to ask others to join me. Through my efforts with the Edison Civic Change, Student Safety Committee, and Civic Wave, I uncovered the foundations of leadership. Leaders know how to align their actions with their character. A good leader empowers others to find their voice and recognize their strengths. Building the communities allows ethical and moral teachings to be bestowed down into our society and privilege to those within them. We have the opportunity as people to transcend from "me" to "we." This "me" becomes a "we" of forcefulness, and this is where the community begins to blossom. Now realizing this problem, I saw an opportunity to pay attention and help build a sense of common unity within my community and expand my horizons in the future.

8:23 am, Tuesday, December 6, 2016 I was at the side entrance of my school waiting to enter. A student yelled, "Nick, Nick, Watch out!" from a distance. I was soon rammed to the cold concrete pavement with a student standing on top of me, kicking me on the side of my chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw John attacking me. Soon a teacher ran to my aid and relieved John from on top of me. I began to lay near senseless on the icy pavement. While being carried by students to the nurse's office, minutes seemed to feel like hours. I started reflecting upon the negative comments John had spoken against me over the years. "You're such a nigger!" "You'll be just like your father!" "When did they allow monkeys in school?" While being examined by the nurse, she touched various parts of my body affected by the beating. She continually asked, "Does this feel ok?" I replied, "I feel fine,"  knowing that this wasn’t the truth. My mother had just recovered from thyroid treatment, and she was alone in taking care of me. I worried my mom and peers would see me in a vulnerable state. I felt as if I was the one to blame for someone else’s actions. Later that night, at 5:30 pm, my mother received a call notifying her of the incident earlier. She then drove me directly to the closest hospital. I left the hospital with a knee immobilizer and OcuMend healing pads to cover the bruises all over my chest. Upon arrival home, my mother had to wash me in the shower. I felt utterly powerless. I believed as if the world was against me, all alone with no one by my side. I kept thinking to myself, "why me." I contemplated thoughts about ending my life, but seeing my sickly mother aid me through this difficult time made me realize it wasn’t worth it. For the year, I needed assistance in simple tasks such as bathing, walking, using the bathroom, and much more. I felt like a hostage in my mind battling with recurring thoughts of how "I was a burden upon my mother; her life would be better without me; I couldn’t do anything." My life began to feel like an endless hallway leading to a dungeon of sorrow. The trauma of Tuesday, December 6, 2016, is something I will never forget. Every day I’m reminded by the darkened marks on my chest and legs. But the pain from this incident still continues to give me strength. Looking back, I had no idea what I was capable of or what kind of person I was yet to become. I dreamt of looking myself in the mirror and being proud of the person I saw. Before this assault, I never understood the true importance of the basic resources I possessed until I was stripped of them. Every day I am thankful for the triumphs and challenges that I face. I no longer ask myself, "why did this happen to me?" when facing an obstacle. I now ask myself, "what is this situation trying to teach me?" I learned three life-altering lessons from that day—my personal three "Be's" for life. 1. Become the person who you would look up to. 2. Be thankful for everything. 3. Be ambitious and courageous. To encourage myself towards accomplishing goals, I tell myself, "John is right behind me." This short phrase has motivated me to become the first entrepreneur in my family, create one of the largest civic education platforms in the US, and become one of the top regarded debaters in the country, but more importantly, prompted me to become a better person. Today, I still face challenges and will continue to face hardships in the future, but I will rise above the opposition and raise the bar higher.

As an advocate and seminar host, I provide participants with interactive and creative discussion groups designed to address environmental issues, racial inequality, affordable housing, the rights of the LBGTQ + community, and economic equality. As an executive member of Edison Civic Change Collective, I educate students on American historical events such as voting rights, gender inequality, and racial discrimination. At Edison Civic Change, my team consists of seven people who oversee weekly discussions groups which consist of seventy-five people. Although I will be graduating this year from school, the Edison Civic Change will continue to advocate for equity for all. A new team of leaders will host events and facilitate sessions with residents of Edison and nearby communities.

My earliest memories came from instability. I was born into a divorced world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening, but there's more to be told from the inside. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8. I made a promise to unify my family. I started small by making friends during recess to making friends around town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc., so that I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend time with a family, go on road trips, play in the park, and more. I wanted to be accepted; it didn't matter by who, but just accepted. Finally, being invited by my friend Mark's family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing, yet his family revealed that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I've always wanted a more profound connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears, along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people, and the more I related, the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most, but some people had it more challenging than me. Because of my vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to sharing their faults and failures. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals, along with myself, by providing safety around the threats of merely going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself; in this community, I found my mission, and in this community, I found my family.

My earliest memories came from instability. I was born into a divorced world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening, but there's more to be told from the inside. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8. I made a promise to unify my family. I started small by making friends during recess to making friends around town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc., so that I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend time with a family, go on road trips, play in the park, and more. I wanted to be accepted; it didn't matter by who, but just accepted. Finally, being invited by my friend Mark's family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing, yet his family revealed that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I've always wanted a more profound connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears, along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people, and the more I related, the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most, but some people had it more challenging than me. Because of my vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to sharing their faults and failures. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals, along with myself, by providing safety around the threats of merely going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself; in this community, I found my mission, and in this community, I found my family.

My Grandmother’s Place I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, 1 story apartment in a city where the “crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes”(FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening. From the inside, there's more to be told. I recall my grandmother taking me to the park on Sundays after church seeing men and women drive unlicensed taxis, selling water guns, clothes, and seafood dinners to help their families survive. This showed me how much further you can go even when you believe you have driven all of your options. My cousin and I used to play kickball with our neighbors on the street. I didn't know then as a child running the bases, how the outside world would be, or how the outside world would perceive me. The kids I used to play with took up a lifestyle of crime in the hopes of having more by taking from others. Although my grandmother's home wasn’t ideal living and the neighborhood wasn’t the greatest, growing up I never cared about what we didn’t have or how the home looked. I cared about what we did and the memories we created together. My cousin who ate the same food as me, wore the same clothes as me, and bathed in the same bathtub with me was one of the kids who took up a life of crime and is serving a sentence for his actions. My aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces look towards me for hope. I constantly ask myself what was the difference between my cousin and I. I have a family who holds me accountable for my actions. I have dreams bigger than my environment. I believe I am the one to change my family's situation

Before hosting discussions at the Edison Civic Change, I've noticed a lack of community in my hometown. Recognizing this flaw, I strived to build community in three ways: Through the connection of minds in dialogue and discussions. A spiritual bond that allows individuals the ability to feel more connected to the world. Through the relationship with citizens, when one can join a group and create an impact. Before I could build a community, I learned what an ideal society was through research and reading. I had to know who I was and what my passions are. Only when I spend time to learn what I care for am I able to ask others to join me. Through my efforts with the Edison Civic Change, Student Safety Committee, and Civic Wave, I learned leadership foundations. Leaders know how to align their actions with their character. A good leader empowers others to find their voice and recognize their strengths. Mahatma Gandhi regards "community as completing our soul." It allows ethical and moral teachings to be bestowed down into our society and privilege to those within them. We have the opportunity as people to transcend from "me" to "we." This "me" becomes a "we" of more incredible caring, and this is where the community begins to blossom. Now realizing this problem, I saw an opportunity to pay attention and help build a sense of common unity within my community and expand my horizons in the future.

I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes". From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening. From the inside, there's more to be told. Although my grandmother's home wasn't ideal living, growing up, I never cared about what we didn't have or how the house looked. I cared about what we did and the memories we created together. My playlist symbolizes all of the times I have spent with my grandmother.

How do we create a more fulfilling and enriched society? Throughout the many years, I have helped grow my society; the lack of community was prevalent. Through the many discussions I’ve hosted at the Edison Civic Change, I’ve realized that those part of the Asian-American community feel like they aren’t so-called American because of their native origin. They collectively see themselves as mere visitors in this land of promise. They see no reason to become active within a community to help create positive change. Common unity is regarded as a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common, yet this was absent in my community. Knowing this flaw, I strived to build this common unity in the three ways as I saw it: Through the connection of minds in dialogue and discussions. A spiritual bond that allows individuals the ability to feel more connected to the world. Through the relationship with citizens, when one can join a group and create an impact. Before I could build a community or recognize my potential as a leader, I learned what an ideal community was through research and reading. I had to know who I was and what my passions are. Only when I spend time to learn what I care for am I able to ask others to join me. Through my efforts with the Edison Civic Change, Student Safety Committee, and Civic Wave, I learned leadership foundations. Leaders know how to align their actions with their character. A good leader empowers others to find their voice and recognize their strengths. Mahatma Gandhi regards “community as completing our soul.” It allows ethical and moral teachings to be bestowed down into our society and privilege to those within them. We have the opportunity as people to transcend from “me” to “we.” This “me” becomes a “we” of more incredible caring, and this is where the community begins to blossom. Now realizing this problem, I saw an opportunity to pay attention and help build a sense of common unity within my community and expand my horizons in the future.

My story is not perfect, but my story is not a story I share alone. I was born into a divorced world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, one-story apartment in a city where the "crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes" (FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening, but there's more to be told from the inside. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8. I made a promise to unify my family. I started small by making friends during recess to making friends around town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc., so that I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend time with a family, go on road trips, play in the park, and more. I wanted to be accepted; it didn't matter by who, but just accepted. Finally, being invited by my friend Mark's family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing, yet his family revealed that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I've always wanted a more profound connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears, along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people, and the more I related, the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most, but some people had it more challenging than me. Because of my vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to sharing their faults and failures. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals, along with myself, by building safety around the threats of merely going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself; in this community, I found my mission, and in this community, I found my family.

My story is not perfect, but my story is not a story I share alone. I was born into a disconnected world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in the two intercities of New Brunswick and Newark, New Jersey. I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, 1 story apartment in a city where the “crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes”(FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening but from the inside, there's more to be told. My great grandmother raised me to believe that we are all a part of something larger than ourselves. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8 to connect my family as one. I started small by becoming friends with my classmates during recess to making friends all over town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc. just so I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend holidays with a family, go on road trips, play in the park all with a family. I wanted to be accepted, it didn’t matter by who, but just accepted. Finally being invited by my friend Mark’s family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing yet his family revealed to me that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I felt a heavy sensation tingling in my fingers. It was the first time I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I’ve always had this desire for deeper connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people and the more I bonded the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, to a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most but there were also people who had it harder than me. People in my school community told me of their struggles, of their families and how they were raised. Because of my own vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to share their own faults and failures to me. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals along with myself by building safety around the threats of simply going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers such as mental health, gun violence, bullying, and peer pressure. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked the sense of family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself, in this community I found my mission, and in this community I found my family.

My story is not perfect, but my story is not a story I share alone. I was born into a disconnected world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in the two intercities of New Brunswick and Newark, New Jersey. I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, 1 story apartment in a city where the “crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes”(FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening but from the inside, there's more to be told. My great grandmother raised me to believe that we are all a part of something larger than ourselves. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8 to connect my family as one. I started small by becoming friends with my classmates during recess to making friends all over town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc. just so I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend holidays with a family, go on road trips, play in the park all with a family. I wanted to be accepted, it didn’t matter by who, but just accepted. Finally being invited by my friend Mark’s family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing yet his family revealed to me that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I felt a heavy sensation tingling in my fingers. It was the first time I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I’ve always had this desire for deeper connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people and the more I bonded the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, to a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most but there were also people who had it harder than me. People in my school community told me of their struggles, of their families and how they were raised. Because of my own vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to share their own faults and failures to me. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals along with myself by building safety around the threats of simply going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers such as mental health, gun violence, bullying, and peer pressure. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked the sense of family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself, in this community I found my mission, and in this community I found my family.

My story is not perfect, but my story is not a story I share alone. I was born into a disconnected world. I grew up with the lack of attention from my mother and an absent father while being stationed in the two intercities of New Brunswick and Newark, New Jersey. I grew up in an oatmeal-colored paint chipped, cockroach-infested, 1 story apartment in a city where the “crime rate is higher than 93% of states cities and towns of all sizes”(FBI Crime Data). From the outside, the community appears to be dangerous and threatening but from the inside, there's more to be told. My great grandmother raised me to believe that we are all a part of something larger than ourselves. I made a promise to myself at the age of 8 to connect my family as one. I started small by becoming friends with my classmates during recess to making friends all over town. I made connections with people from my school, church, basketball team, etc. just so I wouldn't feel alone. As I was growing up, I never understood why I made such an effort for human connection. I wanted to spend holidays with a family, go on road trips, play in the park all with a family. I wanted to be accepted, it didn’t matter by who, but just accepted. Finally being invited by my friend Mark’s family for Christmas was everything. I had nothing yet his family revealed to me that you don't need to be born into a family to have one. At that moment, I felt a heavy sensation tingling in my fingers. It was the first time I truly felt as if I were loved. This was an unknown and never discovered feeling that I sought out for so long. I came to value community through its absence. I’ve always had this desire for deeper connection that was primal for a sense of belonging and greater purpose. I created a community with my friends and nurtured these relationships with talks, games, church events by sharing hopes and fears along with laughter and tears. I began to bond with these people and the more I bonded the more connected I became. It all started with a call from a friend to their home, to a knock on the door at their home, or even a ride home from school. It was those thousands of seamlessly simple interactions of care that created a sense of oneness. I knew my life was hard compared to most but there were also people who had it harder than me. People in my school community told me of their struggles, of their families and how they were raised. Because of my own vulnerability due to abandonment and my involvement in the Student Safety Committee, people were open to share their own faults and failures to me. This committee allowed me to connect to other individuals along with myself by building safety around the threats of simply going to school in worry of mental and physical barriers such as mental health, gun violence, bullying, and peer pressure. I realized the family I was chasing was the one I began to create in my community. Having come from a childhood that lacked the sense of family, creating a community helps provide a better sense of what a real family is. In this community, I found myself, in this community I found my mission, and in this community I found my family.