Back in 2016, my family was bombed in a horrific airport terrorist attack in Brussels, Belgium. It cost my family our physical and mental health from our wounds and the trauma, but most notably the loss of my mom. Going from having both parents to only one, the loss felt inexplicably painful, especially for my dad, who was a military officer with severe PTSD. So when she passed, my dad had no clue how to parent and did so in the only way he knew how. He disciplined us and held high expectations of us, like we were his soldiers. However, it didn't work the best, as what my siblings and I needed was not a commander; we needed our dad. Over the years, my dad softened and learned how to teach with care and compassion, and my siblings and I got used to and learned to love our dad's gruff nature. It was hard, but we made it work as we realized we were all each other had left. Ultimately, I love my dad and credit him for being one of the reasons I am where I am now. I am at Berklee College of Music, where I am fulfilling my dreams of being a music composer. I credit my dad for this achievement because he taught me a lesson that I will abide by for the rest of my life: hard work will never betray you. Since I started drumming at the beginning of high school, and for a little bit wasn't taking professional lessons, when I finally did, I felt behind my peers. I didn't let that stop me. I practiced and put the hours in and ended up becoming part of my music school's prestigious house band and playing at the world's biggest music festival, Summerfest, in two years. Following that, I got injured and wasn't able to play for a period of time and prepare as much as I wanted to for my Berklee audition. I was so scared of not getting in because of that. However, the lesson my dad taught me showed results when I was able to finally play; all the hours I put in came back naturally as my body remembered, and I ended up aceing the audition, leading to me studying at Berklee now. Even now, as I'm here, this lesson still rings true in the way that my hours in the practice room are the reason I get picked by my peers and teachers to record, perform, and work with them. The hard work and consistency show, and even if I don't achieve this one thing now, putting in the work will only get me there, not pull me back further. I also credit my dad with the reason I am here: to make music that touches people's hearts and tells my story. Since he is now a public speaker, he likes to say that it doesn't matter if the room is filled with 100 or one million people, if you can touch the heart of one or impact their lives just a little bit, then you've done your job. That's the goal I have with my music: to make at least one person who listens to it feel my emotions and hopefully relate. I want my music to help people know that they aren't alone in their feelings and to bring them comfort in their dark times, like music was for me when I lost my mom. Like my dad, I want to share my story in hopes of reaching the person who needs it the most.

22 March 2016 – Brussels Zaventem Airport Terrorist Attack. I, along with my three siblings, my mother, and my father who had just returned from his fifth combat tour in Afghanistan, were at the Brussels Zaventem Airport when a three-man ISIS suicide team attacked the airport killing 35 people and injuring hundreds of civilians. The first of two bombs detonated less than two feet from my family and me. In that attack, my mother Gail Martinez was lost instantly and I along with my siblings and father suffered life-altering physical/emotional injuries that we continue to suffer from to this day. From the tragic loss of my mother to enduring unimaginable pain from the shrapnel, blast wounds, third-degree burns, and subsequent medical procedures to help myself and my family heal, I had to become the very definition of resiliency and strength for my family in my mother’s place. As the only one able to walk, I watched over and cared for my family while they were in a coma and/or incapacitated. I would sit by their side and talk to them, hoping and praying that they could hear me. I would call on nurses and doctors when I heard them wail in pain or need medical attention. I did everything I could to soothe their wounds and be the pillar of strength they needed in their recovery. Yet, despite that horrific event, I have not only persevered through the tough years of physical and emotional rehabilitation but also achieved well beyond any expectations for a survivor of a terrorist attack. In the eight years since that fateful day, I have succeeded academically; currently in the top 2% of my class of 850+, as well as excelled in extracurricular activities: I have become a highly decorated student leader in Junior AFROTC in only my first two years, and finally, a drummer and a lead vocalist for the performance band of the nationally recognized School of Rock. Most recently, I was selected as the 2024 Military Child of the Year for the Air Force for all I’ve done despite losing my mom 8 years ago. I continue to bear both the physical and mental scars of that tragic day but rather than allow it to crush me, I use the pain to fight on and make my mother proud as she would have wanted me to do. I also took on the role of caregiver to my 100 percent permanently disabled father – a combat-wounded veteran and Purple Heart recipient who suffers from severe PTSD and depression as well as a litany of physical/mental effects of the injuries suffered in the attack at the Belgium airport. With my two older siblings now grown and out of the house, I have assumed the responsibility of caring for my father and younger sister. As I realize how easy it is to lose someone dear to me, especially my family, I want to spend every moment making them proud and achieving dreams worthy of my mother's sacrifice.