My chosen interest is in biology and animal sciences. I have always loved animals, but my main obsession was with horses. From the time I rode my stick horse, Ginger, to kindergarten to welcoming my real horse, Apprentice, to our family, I have been infatuated. I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was younger, but I was scared of making a mistake and hurting or even killing someone's pet. I was certain I could never go through with surgery, that is until Einstein. Einstein was an amazing horse, kind, sweet, and reliable in every aspect except one: his health. Einstein became ill during the pandemic, and getting him the life saving medicine he needed meant driving four hours away to get it. Miraculously he was nursed back to health, and I thought everything would work it's self out. I was wrong. After months of penicillin shots and vet visits I found Einstein dead in the pasture. He was tired of fighting and I can't fault him for that. Watching Einstein slowly deteriorate from an illness no one could crack made me want to pursue veterinarian science. I don't want anyone else to have to go through the pain of watching their beloved pet suffer knowing that you did everything to help them and still failed. That is my origin story I suppose. This scholarship can help me achieve my dream of becoming an equine veterinarian. There is no secret that going to college is expensive, with four years for your undergraduate degree and four more for vet school, with over five years of residence piled on top. Coupled with the fact that there is no accredited veterinarian college in the state of Kentucky means that I will have to go to a university out of state and pay that much more in tuition. Every little bit counts, and will help me in my journey to become an equine veterinarian, knowledge that I will bring back to my small farming community of Scottsville Kentucky. Although we have countless horses and cattle, there are only three large animal veterinarians in our county. As you can imagine their load is heavy and their work days are demanding, meaning that they get little to no time to rest. Becoming a veterinarian will not only help my community and our increasing demand for veterinarians, but also help unburden my fellow vets. This scholarship will enable me to help further my education, and ultimately help my community thrive and crack down on the intense demand for large animal care.

From city life in central Florida, to a small cow town plopped in the middle of Amish county Kentucky, my view of agriculture has changed tremendously. I can vividly recall seeing a horse and buggy for the first time, it blew my ten year old mind. Living only two miles away from the Amish community, and having friends that own cattle ranches has changed my perspective of everyday goods. When you have no part in harvesting the produce easily available to you at your grocery store you are oblivious to the effort and work a farmer did to get that single cob of corn on that shelf. My eyes have been opened, my rose-tinted glasses lifted, as I've explored the grueling work that our farmers endure to provide for not only America, but other countries as well. Agriculture is the cornerstone of society, without it the human population would decay rapidly. It is because of agriculture that humans are able to survive, that societies are able to expand their minds into things like the arts, philosophy, and entertainment. Our farmers have allowed us to expand our horizons as they provide us with our primary needs: food, shelter, clothing. Agriculture does not only involve food, like so many city folk believe. Where does cotton, wool, silk, and cashmere come from? Most fabrics and materials that our clothing consists of is made out of animal and plant byproducts, harvested my farmers and ranchers. Your house and furniture that fill it is made out of wood, harvested by farmers. Everything in today's society stems from the work of agriculture. I believe in the future of agriculture with a faith born not of words but of deeds and as such I wish to contribute to my community by providing medical attention to working animals such as horses, cattle, sheep, and goats, that provide America and countries beyond the oceans to thrive. It is my dream to educate people who may not know where their basic needs come from and allow them to appreciate and respect the hard labor that farmers and ranchers endure. I would like to establish my own veterinarian office within my community that can support the animals within my town. I hope to own a ranch one day that will help contribute to the beef industry and allow people of all ages to tour the grounds and learn what a real, working, farm consists of. I strive to protect achievements won by future and past generations of agriculturalists and slow the rapidly decreasing number of family farms within my area as I educate the population on the necessity of agriculture. We must look past our community, look past the cities that surround us, look further from our state, and peer into the future of our country as a whole. Agriculture sustains our entire economy. I intend to keep agriculture alive for the bigger picture, by first making an impact in my small community, as I hope to set off a trend of countrywide appreciation for agriculture.

I have dreams to become a large animal veterinarian. These dreams won't be able to come true without enough money to fund them. I lifted in a single mother household for the first ten years of life. When I turned ten my step dad came into my life, but do to health issues gained in the Marine Corp he has become less and less reliable to depend upon to go to work. Some of his illnesses are constant migraines, a knee replacement, and stage for cancer in his kidney that resulted in it's removal. My mom is a special needs teacher aide, and we all know that teachers, specifically teacher aids don't make enough money. Due to my family's financial issues I am left with the responsibility of funding my future. Through scholarships such as these, and working two jobs, I hope to be able to afford my education. I must first gain a bachelors degree in biology at Western Kentucky University, and then I must go to Auburn to achieve my doctorate of veterinarian medicine as there is no university in Kentucky that will issue doctorate of veterinarian medicine licenses, despite Kentucky being the horse capital and one of the greatest agriculture capitals of the United States of America. This endeavor will not be cheap, and as such this scholarship will help me chip away at the thousands of dollars I will owe between tuition, food, and living expenses. I hope to come back to my small farming town of Scottsville Kentucky to contribute to our economy and cater to our ranchers. Despite being a cattle town, there are only three large animal veterinarians within a fifty mile vicinity. Obviously, a consequence of this despairing ratio of veterinarians to livestock, leaves our vets stretched out and unable to correctly care for all of our counties livestock's needs. In a nutshell, I hope to expand the large animal veterinarian industry in my home town and help ranchers provide the proper care for their animals, who are the pillar of our county's economy. Through the receival of this scholarship I can afford my almost decade long education and enhance my small community. The road will not be simple, however the path to become a large animal veterinarian and help my community will become easier if I can receive scholarships such as the "Achieve Potential Scholarship." I thank you for your consideration.

I didn't originally want to be a veterinarian because I was afraid of messing up and hurting or killing someone's pet. However, after my horse, Einstein, became ill, that sometimes you have to take the risk, because if you don't try to help then there is no helping them. Einstein died after a few agonizing months of his mysterious illness. To this day, I still don't know what killed him, and it is my curiosity and love for animals that has driven me into the field of Vet Science. Why didn't we just call a vet? Well, Einstein was given to us by a friend, and as people in the horse field know, there is no such thing as a free horse. We were unable to afford a vet. Despite our at home treatments and penicillin shots from Tractor Supply, we simply couldn't afford the thousands of dollar fee for the vet to treat him. Being a low income household, with one parent on veteran disability, we just couldn't give Einstein the crucial care he needed. That's what I wish to change if I were to become a veterinarian. I would love to implement a program to help the less financially fortunate members of our community to still be able to properly care for their pets. Being in the field of veterinary medicine could allow me to come to peace with the fact that I couldn't save my horse. I would feel satisfied in the knowledge that I was able to help another little girl or boy treasure their animals for years to come. Besides being morally fulfilling, being able to have the opportunity to become a vet would allow me to dig my family and I out of poverty. Perhaps we could pay back our debts and carve a new road for my future children and grandchildren to come. This career path isn't for everyone, and originally it wasn't for me, however, I have learned over the years through many hardships, that sometimes you need to fight for what you believe in, and for me my guilt over not being able to save my childhood pet is what locked in my career decision. Not only is veterinarian medicine morally fulfilling, but it's also a growing industry that will assure that I will have a stable job the rest of my career. This stability will allow me to pay back my family's debt and maybe even provide my children with a bright future while insuring that children like me don't have to go through the pain of loosing their beloved pet.

I chose my field of interest, veterinarian studies, simply because of my horse Einstein. He passed away about two years ago from an unknown illness that, despite trying my hardest, I couldn't cure. If I become a veterinarian that I can help other horses, and perhaps save another young girl from going through the same pain that I felt knowing that I couldn't help my horse. I strive in my academic endeavors to explore every opportunity that comes my way. Recently I have been accepted into the APES (American Private Enterprise Program) which is a business conference in which the top thirty in my graduating class are invited to participate to potentially earn scholarships. I have also applied for GSP (Government Scholar Program) which is a five week long program in the summer in which I would stay on a college campus and participate in classes in my chosen field, surrounded by peers who share similar interests as me. Additionally, I have taken seven AP classes and three DC classes in my high school career and I hope to take more my senior year. I have chosen the Agriculture Pathway which has allowed me to engage in classes such as, agriscience, equine science, and vet science, which will all propel me towards my goal of becoming a veterinarian.

This story will be rather unusual for the prompt as the family member that has impacted my life dramatically is someone that I have never met. Her name was Katelyn and she was going to be my half-sister. Katelyn and I would of had the same mom, yet different dads. My mom was five months along in her pregnancy when my mom miscarried due to an RH factor in her blood, a factor that makes the woman's body think that the baby is a virus, and thus attacks it. Katelyn's loss was devastating to my mom, yet I couldn't imagine how our life would be like now if Katelyn was still alive. You see, Katelyn's dad would have been an alcoholic who prioritized football, beer, and cigarettes over anything else. A year after Katelyn's death my mom and her boyfriend, Katelyn's dad, broke up. Five years after that I met my future step-dad. A little bit of background about my life before I met my step-dad is needed to fully understand the gravity of his integration into my life. My mom was basically a single mom, as her boyfriend didn't contribute to bills, transportation, or anything else of the sort. We had no car, and lived paycheck to paycheck. My mother's anxiety and depression was dragging her down. When my step-dad came into our lives, everything changed. We moved from Florida to Kentucky. My mother's anxiety calmed, her stress was lifted off of her shoulders as my step-dad helped to bare the weight of bills and other stressors that come with adulthood. We got a car, my mom landed a job that she loves, and our family dynamic has grown into something beautiful. I am living a life an inch short of perfect, yes, we have our struggles, just like any other family, but we are far better off than we were when in my early child hood. This leads my mind to wander back to my little sister. If Katelyn had been born, would my mom still be with her ex-boyfriend, stuck in a cycle of depression and anxiety? We definitely wouldn't be where we are today, thriving in the rolling hills of Kentucky. I never thought that someone I never met would have made such a tremendous impact in my life. I can't thank my little sister enough for her sacrifice. She never got to walk this world, instead she is up above watching me live a life that could have never been possible without her sacrifice.

My anxiety stems from my childhood. One effect of growing up with only one parent many people won't understand, is the fact that you are treated as an adult rather than a child. I was aware of all of our financial stress, my mother's depression and severe anxiety, and more. Her burden was placed on my slim shoulders at a young age, leaving bruises that have never truly healed. My half sister, by relation with our father, is only one month older than me. Both of our mothers were being cheated on by our father. My biological father chose the easy way out, forging a relationship with my sister and discarding me because geographically, she was closer. As a seven year old, that was a hard reality to digest. I still bare the scars of abandonment and trust issues. I have learned to become independent, after all if you aren't relying on another person to help you, and instead find a solution on your own, how could you be disappointed? Our poor financial situation also has left its mark on me. I don't like spending money, instead hoarding it for a rainy day, habits that I learned from my youth. I remember many instances when I was young that we couldn't do what other families did because we didn't have enough money. How have these anxieties affected me? Well, I have tested many relationships, both with family and friends, because of my trust and attachment issues. I have learned to shut myself off from the world, and pretend that what others said and did didn't matter me, until I lash out on the people I love most. I have had extreme anxiety attacks that have sometimes ended in self harm. I have learned to be critical of the promises people have sworn to me, and have a history of picking apart every conversation to look for the hidden meaning behind sweet words. My anxiety has led to my independence, which has in turn made me less susceptible to change. Earning a college degree will help me alter the life I was born into. I would be able to be financially stable, which would hopefully increase the stability of my mental health. My education, unlike many factors in my life, is something that I can control. Through my control, I can shape my life into the future that my mother never had.

Although it was just my mom and I, she was determined to provide me with the best childhood memories possible. Our days at the lake front, climbing jungle gyms, splashing in puddles, and playing tag in our backyard overshadowed the reality that we were living paycheck to paycheck, my mom worked two jobs, and easily twelve hour days. I remember throwing up with a fever and having to ride my bicycle three miles to the doctors office and three miles back in the Florida sun, because we couldn't afford a car. I distinctly remember that when I was eight or nine I would sneak coins into my mother's quarter cup because I knew she needed them to do our laundry. She caught me one day and asked if I was stealing money, instead I told her I was contributing. She cried. I didn't understand why until much later: She was ashamed that I was aware of our financial situation. It wasn't until I was older that I could truly understand and appreciate the sacrifices that my mother made for me. The event that truly changed my life was when my step-father entered my life at the age of ten. By this time, I was already used to it just being my mom and I. I was accustomed to the reality that I was her confidant, the person she could always count on. In some ways, I was treated as an adult. When my step-father came into my life I realized that my "norm" was in no way shape or form normal. A child shouldn't of had to care about weather she should ask if she could go on a field trip or not because it might cost too much money. A child shouldn't have to hear her mother crying and stressing over if the bills were going to be paid this month. A child shouldn't have to be her mother's shoulder to cry on. Emotionally, I was treated as an adult, until my step- father came into my life. He slid into my spot of being my mother's shoulder to cry on. Slowly, but surely my mother's anxieties, worries, stress, were lifted off my slim shoulders and placed onto a man who could bare the weight of them. I could finally understand that not only did a child need a father, but a mother needed a husband. I realized that my upbringing was abnormal compared to my friends. However, I know that during those first ten years of my life, my mother needed me just as much as I needed her.

The change that I wish to make in my life, is not a change that applies solely to me, but a generational burden that my family has dealt with for many years. I wish to turn the table and be able to become stable, both in my career and mentally, unlike my parents. My parents both have their own vices. I've never met my father, due to the fact that he has been incarcerated most of my life. Obviously he isn't stable mentally or economically. Due to having to raise a child by herself, my mother has had to work multiple jobs, letting us scrape by paycheck to paycheck. Due to the financial stress, she has also had to deal with a fair share of mental struggles such as depression and anxiety. To break the generational curse, as one may say, I am determined to learn from my parents mistakes and break away from their path as I forge a second avenue to walk along over the course of my life. I have stayed away from bad influences such as drugs, gangs, and the adrenaline of breaking the law, urges my father submitted to. I have prioritized my education over activities, clubs, and even friendships, as I scope out the larger goal: stability through success. In my Junior year of high-school I have burdened myself with the work of five AP classes, and by the end of my senior year I will of earned 39 credit hours towards my bachelors degree in biology, all while maintaining over a 4.0. Simply, this scholarship will help my fund my escape from adversity by allowing me to pursue my passion in the sciences, and later receive my veterinarian license. Without scholarships there is a strong chance that I would drown in debt, like my mom had to endure. The picture perfect version of my success is to become a large animal veterinarian, which would in turn enable me with the knowledge to help other people and their pets, or in some cases, their means of income. If I succeed in the utopia version of my future then I would be able to earn enough money to one day create a scholarship for other aspiring veterinarians who may not be in the best financial situation, a reality that I am currently living in. In a nutshell, I want to break the generational curse of financial and mental instability. I have worked towards this goal by eliminating threats to my future by blinding myself to anything that could hinder my education. This scholarship will help me achieve my goal by providing the funds to finance my education. Hopefully one day I will be able to pay it forward to another broke determined high-school student wishing to make a change in society.

My favorite aspect of writing is the fact that you can create your own world, your own story. You can fill in every random detail of your universe and control everything within it. Your world can not be critiqued by the outside world as the characters, plotline, and setting exists only within your mind through your creativity. I would love to further my education in writing so that I would be able to create a more indepth universe. Although writing is a story created through your eyes as you see fit, there is more to a book than your idea. You have to develop your creation until it is able to flourish into a beautiful piece of literature. There are many components to writing. The hardest component of story writing for me, is being able to stay on track. Imagine a highway, that highway is the idea for your story. Now imagine the highway branching off into main roads, small roads, country roads. Now imagine all of the roads in your city, what if there was no plan for how these roads would be paved? It would be a tangled mess, with dead ends and clashing streets. That's how a story can be without a proper layout. Abandoned plotlines lay unfinished like dead end roads. If you're not careful you could use the same story line over and over again, with a danger of becoming redundant. Furthering my education in writing would allow me to organize my thoughts and ideas so that the story flows smoothly with all problems answered when the last word is read. Not only do you need a good storyline, but you need wonderful dynamic characters to breathe life into your book. Characters that the readers can relate to, in which you can create an emotional connection to. Characters should not just be able to be described with one word, or even two. They should have multiple emotions, things that bother them, beliefs they stand up for, people they love. Characters should be created as if they were real breathing humans. Structure is perhaps one of the most important elements of storytelling, with proper training I would be allowed to possess the knowledge of proper structure in writing, or maybe even unique structuring that could be utilized for specific plotlines. Furthering my education in writing would allow me to breathe life into my characters and their universe.

I never used to think that I had a problem with my mental health, my obliviousness to the issue is concerning in itself. I've never met my biological father. The trust issues that resulted from that manifested in me at a young age. When my step-dad came into my life I pushed him away, for fear that one day I would come home and he would be gone. In my ten year old mine my biological father leaving was my fault. Despite being loved and cared for by my step-dad, a constant figure in my life since I was ten, I have always held deep-rooted abandonment and trust issues. These mental struggles would snow ball into other mental disorders that you wouldn't realize are connected. I am a very competitive person, I believe that the spark inside me that refuses to give up is because I'm afraid that if I am not good enough, then the people that I love will not think I am worthy enough to love. I have learned to shut off the world, dissociate myself from others, and pretend that what they say can't hurt me. Unfortunately, my psychological struggles turned into physical ones. For me, my eating disorder was all about control. I couldn't control the other factors in my life, but I could control what I ate. I was thirteen years old, running five miles and strength training for two hours a day, eating one meal a day. I remember feeling like I was going to pass out, I was irritable and worn out, shutting myself off from my family and activities that I used to love. I lost fifteen pounds. It hurt to do sit-ups because my tailbone was slamming against the floor. It hurt to walk because my hips were sore from running. When my mom finally caught on, I was told to eat and slow down on the exercise. I listened, but she never said that I had to keep the food down. I became bulimic and started throwing up every meal that I ate. I finally realized I needed to change my habits when a flip switched and I realized thinking thoughts such as, you should eat this food last because it has more calories so you'll throw it up first, I want to go to this restaurant because they have a one stall private bathroom, or it's ok I will just throw it all up, was not in the slightest bit healthy. To say that I'm healed of my mental illness would be a lie, however, I have learned a lot about how my damaged mental image has shaped my beliefs, relationships, and even my career aspirations. I find myself catching onto people's habits, noting behaviors that I mark as red flags for bulimia or anorexia. I find ways to hang out with them, ensuring that I am always a person they can talk to. My struggles have allowed me to understand another person's perspective. That not everyone's life is as perfect and rose-colored as it seams. I want to become a large animal veterinarian, and at surface level my career choice doesn't correlate with mental health. However, my journey has inspired me to open a horse rescue, rehabilitate abused horses, and create a riding center for people with mental illness as horses have been used as a form of therapy. In conclusion, my journey with mental health has been a blessing in disguise. My struggles have allowed me to become for empathetic and has inspired me to combine my love for horses and help soothe others through therapy.

When I was a little girl my horse died because of an unknown illness and I felt helpless watching him suffer with nothing I could do to help him. Ever since I have wanted to become a large animal vet to help other animals like him. To achieve this goal I have altered my High School schedule to fit the criteria needed to become a vet. I have taken multiple higher math and science classes. I have also taken four classes in the Agriculture pathway, two of which include Equine Science and Vet Science. I had the opportunity to job shadow at the local veterinarian office and was able to further my comprehension of what my job would entail on a day to day basis. During my time job shadowing I watched an ultrasound, looked at bacteria under a microscope, analyzed X-rays, and even watched a hysterectomy that was being performed on a German Shepherd. Taking a step back from the medical aspect of a career as an equine and large animal veterinarian, I also worked as a stable hand for two years which allowed me to gain experience on the everyday care of show horses, as well as get a grip on their temperament. I mucked stalls, loaded hay, filled water and feed buckets, groomed, and bathed the horses. As well as helped breed my boss's stallion. I also have a history of volunteering at McCormick Research Institute, which rehabilitates abused horses and allows veterans and disabled people ride as a therapeutic release. Volunteering at the stable allowed me to understand that not all horses have had a good life. I witnessed horses coming in who were skin and bones, entire hoofs missing, and we even had one who's tongue was cut almost in half: a result from negligence with a bit. Both of these experiences, coupled with owning my own horses, has strengthened my understanding of anatomy, and temperament of a horse. To become a Veterinarian you need to complete a lot of schooling, this is no secret. It's not as simple as being accepted into your dream school, the problem stands with the issue of how will I receive the funds to pay for my education? I was raised by a single mother. Despite her wanting to pay for my education, she simply has no means to. As such, I have taken it upon myself to fight for education, to fight for my dream of becoming a veterinarian. Every paycheck given to me is placed in a savings account untouched. I am not naive enough to believe that it will be enough, I need help, which is why I am sitting at the kitchen table before school furiously typing away at this scholarship application, hoping that maybe my dreams will come true.

I never used to think that I had a problem with my mental health, my obliviousness to the issue is concerning in itself. I've never met my biological father. The trust issues that resulted from that manifested in me at a young age. I learned not to love anyone too close because they would leave me. When my step-dad came into my life I pushed him away, for fear that one day I would come home and he would be gone. In my ten year old mine my biological father leaving was my fault. These feelings still resonate within me today. Despite being loved and cared for by my step-dad, a constant figure in my life since I was ten, I have always held deep-rooted abandonment and trust issues. These mental struggles would snow ball into other mental disorders that you wouldn't realize are connected. I am a very competitive person, I believe that the spark inside me that refuses to give up is because I'm afraid that if I don't do my best, if I am not good enough, then the people that I love will not think I am worthy enough to love back. I struggle with sudden anxiety attacks that make me spiral into darkness, until I can barely breath, afterward I pretend that nothing happened. I have learned to shut off the world, dissociate myself from others, and pretend that what they say and do can't hurt me. Unfortunately, my psychological struggles turned into physical ones. For me, my eating disorder was all about control. I couldn't control the other factors in my life, but I could control what I ate. As an added bonus, perhaps if I was skinner people would like me more, right? I was thirteen years old, running five miles a day, strength training for two hours a day, and only eating one meal a day. I remember feeling like I was going to pass out, I was irritable and worn out, shutting myself off from my family and activities that I used to love to do. I lost fifteen pounds. It hurt to do sit-ups because my tailbone was slamming against the floor. It hurt to walk because my hips were so sore from running. When my mom finally caught on, I was told to eat and slow down on the exercise. I listened, but she never said that I had to keep the food down. I became bulimic and started throwing up every meal that I ate, big or small, healthy or not. I finally realized I needed to change my habits when a flip switched and I realized thinking thoughts such as, you should eat this food last because it has more calories so you'll throw it up first, I want to go to this restaurant because they have a one stall private bathroom, or it's ok I will just throw it all up, was not in the slightest bit healthy. To say that I'm healed of my mental illness would be a lie, however, I have learned a lot about how my damaged mental image has shaped my beliefs, relationships, and even my career aspirations. I find myself catching onto people's habits, noting behaviors that I mark as red flags for bulimia or anorexia. I gently encourage them to eat, find ways to hang out with them, and ensure that I am always a person they can talk to. My struggles have allowed me to understand another person's perspective. That not everyone's life is as perfect and rose-colored as it seams. I want to become a large animal veterinarian, and at surface level my career choice doesn't correlate with mental health. However, my journey has inspired me to open a horse rescue, rehabilitate abused horses, and create a riding center for people with disabilities, veterans suffering with PTSD, and people who just want a calm relaxing ride. Horses have been shown to be just as effective at comforting a person as service dogs. In a nutshell, my journey with mental health has been a blessing in disguise. My struggles have allowed me to become for empathetic to others, experience a small portions of what other struggling individuals are going through, and one day hopefully help my community through the use of animal therapy.

During Covid I was cut off from society and because of this separation from my community for two years due to the lock down and homeschooling, I craved the ability to help my town. Since the lockdown was lifted I have helped my community by volunteering at any opportunity possible. Including participating events at Barefoot Republic, a Christian summer camp. Volunteering in events such as the Christmas festival and Clay shoot, I have participated in events that have funded money for less fortunate kids who can't afford to go to summer camp. I have participated in events held my my community park in Scottsville including: Halloween on the Hill, Pumpkins in the Park, Paws in the park, Faith and Family Night, Fireworks at the Park, and various others. Each event helps me feel more connected with my community. From driving people to and from their cars to simply offering them water on a hot day, I love to see the smiles on their faces at just a sprinkle of kindness. To outline the volunteer hours I have spent in my community almost feels Illegal as if I am depreciating their value to get brownie points on a scholarship essay. The truth is that acts of kindness should be expected, yet their like unicorns these days because people are too involved in their own lives to help someone who is struggling. I can't claim to have done this one big spectacular thing that makes me stand out to others as a hero. I haven't save someone from a burning building or rescued someone from drowning. I have completed small acts of kindness throughout my life, acts of kindness that make someone's day yet go by unnoticed, acts that will allows you to go under the radar and be unidentifiable. I believe that these acts of kindness can be the small difference in changing someone's day. From returning a lost puppy, to holding a door open for someone, these small gifts of kindness can help someone change a mindset that is spiraling downward. I believe my greatest contribution was to my friend, he was going through a rough time and has even told me that he had thought about taking his life. I didn't do any grand gesture to make him feel better, wounds like that don't heal with the snap of your fingers, they heal through love and commitment. I stood by his side for over two years until he smiled at me one random day and said, I don't feel empty anymore. I don't take full credit for his transformation, but I would like to believe that being the shoulder he can cry on, the one person he could always talk to, someone that would cancel plans at the drop of a hat to be there for him, did help him in someway. In a nutshell, a pattern of kindness I have shown in my life is to always be there for my community, family, and friends. From showing up to volunteer at events, to being the anonymous person that picked up trash in your front yard, to being the friend you need when your world is crumbling, I hope I have positively impacted others. You don't need a grand heroic gesture to be kind, you don't need a social media following and a video of you feeding the homeless, that one random person's day that you made slightly better by being a kind human will appreciate you more than you can comprehend.

Ever since I was a little girl living in the middle of the city in Central Florida I have dreamt about owning a horse. I even used to ride my stick horse, Ginger, two blocks down the road to school. When I was ten I moved from Florida to Indiana for only eight months and then we were on our way to Scottsville Kentucky. During Covid I did virtual school and finished three months ahead of schedule, because of this I got a job working as a stable hand for a family friend. I absolutely loved being exposed to his magnificent gentle giants. I took a liking to his prized barrel racers and wished for a day when I could call a horse my own. That day finally arrived one random afternoon. While working with my boss's horses I got one of my own, a raggedy twelve year old mutt of a black gelding that I named Apprentice. Apprentice was nowhere near as stunning and grand as my boss's Quarter horses, but in my eyes he was perfect, simply because he was mine. I doted on him and over the next four years we had the privilege of owning three other horses: Midnight, Einstein and Scarlet. Einstein and Apprentice were inseparable, they ate, slept, and played next to one another, barely leaving each others sides. Only months after having Einstein he became sick, it was a constant struggle and yet he prevailed until the next winter. Unfortunately, after appearing healthy for a couple months, Einstein died due to unknown complications, it is because of his illness and sudden death that I decided I wanted to become a vet. I was propelled into a life of equine and vet sciences, job shadowing at my local veterinarian clinic, and working with equestrians. After Highschool I wish to attend Western Kentucky University for my undergrad and then, since there is no veterinarian school in my state, go to Auburn University in Alabama. It is no secret that becoming a veterinarian isn't cheap. This scholarship would benefit me on my career path and journey by allowing me to pursue higher education to become a large animal veterinarian. With this scholarship I could be armed with the knowledge Einstein needed to survive. I could be able to make a difference and hopefully become the person that is capable of saving another little boy or girl's beloved pet.

My father found out he had cancer by falling off of a twelve foot ladder. I'm serious, a twelve foot ladder. My father is a construction worker. One day, while he was working on a roof, the board securing the ladder loosened, causing the ladder to become unstable, this ended up with my dad on the ground twelve feet below with the edge of a two by four cutting through his forehead. Safe to say, even my dad couldn't get out of going to the hospital for that one. I will always remember the doctor who saved my fathers life. We were at the Lafayette ER in Tennessee when Dr. Golden explained to my dad that all his x-rays were normal, he had no fractured or broken bones, and had only a slight concussion, but there was a mass on his kidney. Mind you, my father is a Marine Corp veteran, and as such had been to the VA countless times, and he knew nothing of the masses. My father was diagnosed with stage four kidney cancer in September of 2019. In May of 2020 my dad had his kidney removed at the VA hospital in Nashville. It was a long and hard recovery. He was in the hospital for a week afterward for monitoring. It was in that time frame that I realized how precious life was. We were in the middle of a pandemic and I couldn't afford to loose my father. It was like a light bulb went off, a switch flipped, I became determined to succeed. Afterall, my father was cut in half, an organ removed, and he was still here for us, how could I give up a chance of success because I wasn't determined enough to prevail? It's been four years and my dad still feels pain, we have recently learned that the doctors didn't stich his skin back together correctly so the scar tissue may have to be reopened and his skin and muscle fibers might have to be realigned. This information has only made me work harder. He is a strong man and I wish to prove to him how strong I can be as well. I've seen him struggle through the hardest parts of his life, and i am so grateful that I have the privilege to say that my father beat cancer. I hope one day my father can say that he is proud of his daughter for overcoming challenges and becoming a successful, contributing member to society.

Raised by a single mother in St. Cloud Florida, I didn't have many materialistic things growing up. What I did have was, a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and many wonderful memories of my childhood. There were a few father figures that came and went, hardening my mind as I shielded myself from relationships with other people. Armed with an armada of trust issues and the mind set to leave before they could leave me, I have embraced my teenage years, emotionally detached from my loved ones. It has taken me a long time to understand that emotional detachment is not the key to all my problems, in fact, it only makes my problems fester until relationships with people I love are too damaged to repair. However, detachment has served useful in some cases. If a problem occurs, and can separate myself from the frustration that I fee and simply focus at the problem at hand, allowing me to fix it. When I moved away from my family in Florida when I was ten, I was able to bar myself from the emotional pain of missing them and power through to focus on my studies and making the friends that I currently have. We live seventeen miles from our small country town, so to say that we were isolated when Covid shut us down would be an understatement. However, I persevered through the year and a half of home schooling by looking at the good things around me instead of focusing on the unraveling of our nation. Although I am not a fan of the way that our world is working currently, I understand that there are a lot of moving parts that make it the way it is today. However, despite the hardships I am also able to comprehend that if one gear turns a certain way, it can alter the trajectory of the entire path, changing the outcome. I am inspired to be that one gear that can shift our world's current problems into something great. Inspired by the hardships I have faced I am able to understand that I can make a difference when prompted with a reward as great as changing the lives of my community, my state, and so forth my country. Although my mindset has not always been the best approach to my problems, my detachment can help me quickly solve problems from peering at them from different angles, allowing me to see past the propaganda, further than the smoke screen, to the truth that coils beneath the bells and whistles of lies and broken promises. I can look at a situation, detached from emotion and bias and am able to dig deeper to the true root of the problem. I am able to separate opinion from fact because of everything I have had to endure, from poverty to trust issues, to depression, to health scares that almost left me parentless, my gritty mindset has helped me through the obstacles and challenges I have had to overcome.

My four siblings, my father, my cousins, uncles, and grandparents, have all fought to save our country, I can't let their hard work go to waste. Imagine giving your life for your country, seeing your friends die on the battlefield around you, for you to come home and have the stability you've secured unravel. When the Taliban took back Afghanistan, it was my sister's unit that died on that wall. Thirteen perished that day, but how many countless lives died defending the Afghanistan border, for their legacy to be ripped away, meaningless? Protecting my country is an honor, my goal is to protect the legacy of my family and my countrymen and women who have died providing a safe home for Americans. My dad is a Marine, he has told me countless stories that prove his bravery, I wish to share his strength. My sister was in a training accident, thrown again the masts of a sinking ship, her unit left in treading water for two hours, the encounter left her with the need for a double hip replacement, I wish to have dedication. My grandfather was a pilot, saving people overseas as he rescued over seven of our men that were abandoned in hostile territory, I wish I had his bravery. My family, and their memories of war, motivate me to be better, stronger, braver, more diligent in my efforts. Not only is it a family tradition, at this point, to enlist, but it's a duty. I'm motivated by my family's scars inside and out that they will carry proudly for the rest of their lives, pain that they will endure because they know that it was Inflicted upon them by the grace of God as he guided them home after the war unlike so many of their comrades who were shipped home encased in oak and the vivid red, white, and blue flag of our homeland. I am motivated to live up to my family's standard, to the standard of every wife, husband, son, daughter, mother, and father who has lost their loved one to the reaper on the battlefield. To be deserving enough to fight the same war their family fought and continue the tradition of fighting to protect them as their loved one tried so hard to do. Our soldiers and marines have sacrificed their family, their brothers in arms, their blood, their time, their bodies, their mind, to protect us. Shouldn't we try to repay the dept that we owe them? Shouldn't we try to show gratitude? A simple, Thanks for your service, on Veteran's Day, will not suffice to mend all their suffering. We must follow their footsteps motivated by the strength, bravery, and determination of others who walked the path before us, to fight for the glory of our God, country, and family.

My mental health issues are rooted in childhood traumas that I had repressed until I was about fourteen. I suffer from a range of mental health disorders such as depression, eating disorders, and psychological disorders that have stemmed from my childhood. Until a couple of months ago I refused to acknowledge that I had anything wrong with me, unconsciously I was killing myself. When I was six years old I found out that I had a father from an old picture I had. Now, I knew I had a dad, I just had never pondered why he wasn't with us. Turned out, he had been in prison for the first seven years of my life. It was then that my trust issues begin to manifest. My mother had a boyfriend from the time I was one to six years old. I loved him, and I called him dad. He left because he didn't want the responsibility. A couple years later my mom dated Kevin, and I loved him as well, but he left because he was still recovering from his messy divorce and didn't want to commit to my mom and me. My mom's third boyfriend a year after that scrounged up most of my insecurities. I hated him. It was like I didnt exist unless it was to belittle me, tell me how fat I was, that I needed to loose weight, that I needed to stop eating. Things got messy when his friend came over. There was an investigation and I was told to lie by my mother's boyfriend. A couple months later my mom and him split up because his family and him were afraid I would accuse them of horrible things too and ruin their reputation. I was eight. Safe to say, I have abandonment problems. I developed a mental disorder I don't know how to categorize as a side dish to my trust issues. I would count steps, count objects, tell myself that if there wasn't enough of something then bad things were going to happen. If I didn't say this, walking that way, then they would leave me. When my mom met my step-dad I pushed him away because I was tired of giving everyone unconditional love for them to spit it back in my face. Eventually after six years I've realized he won't leave me. Despite my realization that my family won't leave me I still suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. My mother has these as well so to some point they could be hereditary, however I believe that it stems from my lack of acknowledgement I allowed myself to give to my emotions. After years of suppression they've emerged stronger than ever, mixed with teenage hormones, what a treat! The year before Freshmen summer I started excercising a lot to try and get in shape for Raider, an army orientated sport at my High-school. To start, I was a chubby child, and I had been told so by my mother's ex boyfriends and other children at school. I never intended on it going so far, I just liked feeling strong. For a few weeks, that's all it was about, getting strong. Until the weight began to shed off, people would compliment me for the first time and I grew greedy. I started excersising three or four hours a day, running six miles as I watched the calories burn off on my treadmill's screen. I didn't need to eat breakfast anymore, that's what fat people did, why stop there? Who cares about lunch and dinner? My ribs and hip bones jutted out of my skin. I was exhausted, lashing out at people from the hunger. I didn't want to do anything but lay down, when I would get up my vision would go dark. Soon, it hurt to run, a sharp pain would plague my hip every time I walked. My tailbone was bruised from the amount of sit-ups I did combined with how exposed my bones were. How could my family not notice? Well, I never exhibited any of this behavior before, and when I ate my one meal a day, I would insure that my mother saw it. They did begin to notice, however, and made me cut back on excercising, insuring that I ate. As I gained weight I became depressed, I lashed out at my parents and my boyfriend because I was afraid they were going to voice my insecurities. I redirected all my anger and pain inside me onto them and I'm ashamed about that. I was afraid that my boyfriend was going to leave me because I was gaining weight, in reality he was supportive that I was becoming healthy. To stop hurting them I needed to fix myself, and what was wrong with me? I was fat and I was ugly. Well I can't change the ugly part. I developed belemia. My friend gave me the idea actually. It was magical, I could eat whatever I wanted and still be satisfied on the scale. However, I realized that my life was revolved around when I could throw up without my mom noticing, could I make it home in time to regurgitate my meal. Like everything, my mother found out and advised me to stop before I ruined my health. Its been a long battle, some scars still have the wounds of a little girl beneath them. I hope to be healthy and be able to truly divulge into my emotions, pulling at the root of why I feel compelled to act a certain way. The relationships with my family have been rubbed raw, exposing all the ugly truths that act as glue to tie each other together. I no longer judge that person acting haywire, or crying, or cursing because I don't know what insecurities belittle them everyday. I don't want to let my anxieties and fears shape me anymore. I want to be free within my own consciousness. Hopefully, I will let myself be.

I found out I had a half sister when I was six years old. When I was six, I was looking through my moms old photos and I saw a picture of a man, I asked a question that would change my life forever: Who is he? Being six years old I never questioned why most families had a dad and a mom and I only had my mom. Through my dad I have a step sister that is one month older than me. My biological father has been in prison for the first seven years of my life and in and out of prison since then on drug charges. Unfortunately my biological father chose my sister over me, subjecting her to years of mental abuse that caused her to try and take her own life. On the other hand, I had my mother, a hard working woman that kept us afloat and happy for ten years of my life until we met my step-father. Without my biological father being put into prison I would never of been able to feel the love and compassion gifted to me by my step-dad. I would have never moved to Kentucky, never of met my friends, never have understood the true value of life. I would have been oblivious to the darker side of the world. I wouldn't appreciate my mom and my family the same way, or have my work ethic. I would have never strived to be the best in my class because I wouldn't have the constant fear that if I failed then everyone I love would leave me like my biological father did. The scars he gave me were reminders of everything I never wanted to be. As I stated earlier, my biological father has been in and out of prison because of drug charges. Distributing legal drugs and using narcotics as I understand it. I will never allow myself to be in a situation that would compel me to make the choices he made. I will never drink alcohol, I will never do drugs, and I will never surround myself with people who contribute to those activities because I am deathly afraid of sharing my biological father's addictive personality. I refuse to risk everything my mother, family, and step-father worked for. My biological father has tried to contact me again and again throughout the years and yet I have never met him, never even spoken to him. Like I said earlier, I will never open a doorway to the possibility of contributing to the devil's sins. Regrettably, this coping mechanism has spilled into my everyday life. I'm not afraid to admit that I shy away when things get hard emotionally, but the people who love and support me have slowly began to stitch the wounds he left for me. Wounds this deep become scars, scars that will remind me of how far I have come to be the person I am today.

From city life in central Florida, to a small cow town plopped in the middle of Amish county Kentucky, my view of agriculture has changed tremendously. I can vividly recall seeing a horse and buggy for the first time, it blew my ten year old mind. Living only two miles away from the Amish community, and having friends that own cattle ranches has changed my perspective of everyday goods. When you have no part in harvesting the produce easily available to you at your grocery store you are oblivious to the effort and work a farmer did to get that single cob of corn on that shelf. My eyes have been opened, my rose-tinted glasses lifted, as I've explored the grueling work that our farmers endure to provide for not only America, but other countries as well. Agriculture is the cornerstone of society, without it the human population would decay rapidly. It is because of agriculture that humans are able to survive, that societies are able to expand their minds into things like the arts, philosophy, and entertainment. Our farmers have allowed us to expand our horizons as they provide us with our primary needs: food, shelter, clothing. Agriculture does not only involve food, like so many city folk believe. Where does cotton, wool, silk, and cashmere come from? Most fabrics and materials that our clothing consists of is made out of animal and plant byproducts, harvested my farmers and ranchers. Your house and furniture that fill it is made out of wood, harvested by farmers. Everything in today's society stems from the work of agriculture. I believe in the future of agriculture with a faith born not of words but of deeds and as such I wish to contribute to my community by providing medical attention to working animals such as horses, cattle, sheep, and goats, that provide America and countries beyond the oceans to thrive. It is my dream to educate people who may not know where their basic needs come from and allow them to appreciate and respect the hard labor that farmers and ranchers endure. I would like to establish my own veterinarian office within my community that can support the animals within my town. I hope to own a ranch one day that will help contribute to the beef industry and allow people of all ages to tour the grounds and learn what a real, working, farm consists of. I strive to protect achievements won by future and past generations of agriculturalists and slow the rapidly decreasing number of family farms within my area as I educate the population on the necessity of agriculture. We must look past our community, look past the cities that surround us, look further from our state, and peer into the future of our country as a whole. Agriculture sustains our entire economy. I intend to keep agriculture alive for the bigger picture, by first making an impact in my small community, as I hope to set off a trend of countrywide appreciation for agriculture.

I grew up with a single mom in the city of St. Cloud Florida. We lived in an apartment two blocks away from my elementary school. Since the distance was so short, I used to ride my stick horse, Ginger, to school, galloping the entire way. I have cherished horses since I was a little girl, and my biggest dream was to own one. This dream became a reality when I received my first mutt of a horse, a black gelding named Apprentice, after moving to Kentucky. He was old, scraggly, missing teeth, and barn sour, but he was mine. Everyone knows that a horse needs a companion, Apprentice found this friendship with Einstein, a sixteen year old Tennessee Walking horse. Einstein is the source for my passion to be a large animal vet. Einstein was beautiful, he was copper bay, with the most gorgeous ombre tail and mane, and the sweetest nature a horse owner could ask for. He was smooth and gentle, but he wasn't perfect: he was sick. three months after owning Einstein, in early winter, he fell ill. To give some context to the situation, this was during the first outbreak of Covid-19 in the United States. We were isolated and alone, and Einstein and his illness were isolated from the rest of us as well. He became skinny and started to limp, he was pushed around by our other horse, Callie (We got her the day before we got Einstein, but that's another story) and because of her bullying we had to separate him, isolating him in his stall to try to shield him from the winter. Eventually, he got better. We never knew the cause of his rapid decline. Before winter ended, Einstein became ill again. This time, his sickness was detrimental. He stopped eating, he became skinny as a rail, and he was down for about three days. I remember the bitter cold against my skin as I begged him to get up to restore blood flow throughout his legs. I vividly remember the hot splash of water turn cold as I carried buckets of water from the kitchen sick to him, as the hose was frozen. When he was down he acquired an infection that ate a hole at his hip bone. Throughout all of this Apprentice stood by his side. We had to drive three hours to recover the penicillin and ivermectin that Einstein needed to survive because people were using these horse medications for Covid treatments. Despite all of this, Einstein still fought, until Apprentice died of old age. Three days later Einstein succumbed to his fate. Einstein and Apprentice's stories influenced me to become a large animal, and specifically an equine veterinarian. I'm still driven crazy by the notion that I couldn't save my boys. If I could diagnose Einstein earlier would he still be alive? Could I have helped Apprentice? These questions haunt me to this day. One of my major goals is to make sure that little girls like me don't have to cry at night wondering if there was something they could have done to save their beloved pet. I hope that when I become a veterinarian I can diagnose the problem before it becomes detrimental, I hope that I can provide the medical attention that someone's pet desperately needs. I hope that I can be moral in my intentions and look past the social standard to truly do my job: Care for animals.