When it comes to socioeconomic adversity, education has been my family's greatest struggle. For generations, college was a forethought in many minds but never bore fruit. For example, my mother attempted the "normal" route: applying to a couple of schools and scholarships, but due to finances, she never began her undergraduate studies. In addition, she became pregnant with my brother at nineteen and decided to be a stay-at-home mom, claiming that school "wasn't for her." Like my mom, my father applied to one school just to see if he'd get in. Again, due to finances, he knew he wouldn't go, but he at least wanted to try. And, of course, he met my mom and had my brother shortly after. Before them, neither my maternal nor paternal grandparents went to college, making me a first-generation college student. To fund my education, alongside my academic studies, I spend most of my time working between my local elementary school as an After School for Kids Employee and aiding my local recreation center as a Therapeutic Recreation Support Staff Employee. I'm often asked why I choose to work in such high-stress environments, considering that I work with young children at ASK and neurodivergent adults at the recreation center, but seeing first-hand that my contribution to my community directly affects the well-being of those around me compels me to return each day with a smile on my face. From a young age, the importance of community was instilled in me. My father always says, "God made us communal beings, so serving your community is essential to your well-being." He and my mother first implemented this by ensuring that my siblings and I never missed a chance to attend and serve at church. Until I was nine, my grandfather's church was my second home. There, each Sunday, my sister and I would sing a hymn, and my brother and I would read a chapter of the Bible. At the end of service, for anyone that visited, we children were to ensure they received a gift from the "Offering Table", a table of goods and non-perishables given out to thank them for their attendance. Following my grandfather's retirement, at our next church, my sister, brother, and I served as youth praise and worship leaders, which required perfect attendance every Saturday for rehearsal and Sunday for service. My understanding of community needs has influenced the direction I want to go in my career. I'm a firm believer that art leads to healing, so why not intercede for those in need and advocate for healing at the same time? This scholarship will allow me to obtain the education I need to write plays and screenplays displaying the stories of disabled people and others with debilitating diseases, allowing them to be seen and allowing others to empathize with them. Many advocate for racial and gender diversity, which I'm entirely for, but if given this scholarship, I will have the opportunity to not only include these factors in my stories but include factors such as neurodivergence and physical disabilities, allowing for a population to experience the same joy and representation others receive in seeing themselves in theatre and media spaces.

To some, this may sound simple, but at the moment, it felt like everything. In 2019, I took part in my first acting intensive. It was an eight-week program and was held at a local community theatre in my area. I had never been to the theatre before, and despite the advertisement claiming the program was "inclusive," I assume this was apparent because I was ostracized from the minute I walked in the door. Many returning students greeted one another and hugged our instructors, but no one thought to introduce themselves to me. I remained silent for the first twenty minutes, unsure what to say or how to fit in. As the weeks went on, very little changed. People became more vocal with me, some allowing themselves to engage in small talk, while others vocalized their disdain. I will never forget the time when I was placed in a small improv group, and despite my attempts to connect with the other students, one young man verbatim told me to "be quiet because there were more productive things to do." His words stung me and left me speechless, leading me to, yet again, remain silent for the rest of the class. The environment remained the same from this day to the end of the intensive. I write this being the last person to want to make a victim of themselves. I understand that I'm wholeheartedly loved, without question, but for the first time, in the duration of the program, I questioned that wholehearted notion. I genuinely felt useless, stupid even. At the recital, my instructors and the parents of the children I acted beside even refused to introduce themselves to my mom! Gratefully, after grieving the experience, I came up with a solution that would limit the chance of me or any other actor from experiencing the discomfort I felt ever again. Having a deep understanding of community needs, I plan to help my community by using the dramatic arts to intercede for those in need and advocate for healing. This scholarship will help me in obtaining the education I need to write plays and screenplays displaying the stories of disabled people and others with debilitating diseases, allowing them to be seen and allowing others to empathize with them. Many advocate for racial and gender diversity, which I'm entirely for, but if given this scholarship, I will have the opportunity to not only include these factors in my stories but include factors such as neurodivergence and physical disabilities, allowing for a population to experience the same joy and representation others receive in seeing themselves in theatre and media spaces.

Alongside my academic studies, I spend most of my time working between my local elementary school as an After School for Kids Employee and aiding my local recreation center as a Therapeutic Recreation Support Staff Employee. I'm often asked why I choose to work in such high-stress environments, considering that I work with young children at ASK and neurodivergent adults at the recreation center, but seeing first-hand that my contribution to my community directly affects the well-being of those around me compels me to return each day with a smile on my face. From a young age, the importance of community was instilled in me. My father always says, "God made us communal beings, so serving your community is essential to your well-being." He and my mother first implemented this by ensuring that my siblings and I never missed a chance to attend and serve at church. Until I was nine, my grandfather's church was my second home. To this day, I can trace the sanctuary in my mind, noting every bump, nook, and cranny to avoid. There, each Sunday, my sister and I would sing a hymn, and my brother and I would read a chapter of the Bible. At the end of service, for anyone that visited, we children were to ensure they received a gift from the "Offering Table", a table of goods and non-perishables given out to thank them for their attendance. Following my grandfather's retirement, at our next church, my sister, brother, and I served as youth praise and worship leaders, which required perfect attendance every Saturday for rehearsal and Sunday for service. My understanding of community needs has influenced the direction I want to go in my career. I'm a firm believer that art leads to healing, so why not intercede for those in need and advocate for healing at the same time? This scholarship will allow me to obtain the education I need to write plays and screenplays displaying the stories of disabled people and others with debilitating diseases, allowing them to be seen and allowing others to empathize with them. Many advocate for racial and gender diversity, which I'm entirely for, but if given this scholarship, I will have the opportunity to not only include these factors in my stories but include factors such as neurodivergence and physical disabilities. I'll conclude and tie this together by including the 2020 food drive I did with my church organization. During the pandemic, my church created a food program called "Christ for Our Crisis." Every Saturday from April 2020 to January 2021, less fortunate families would line the parking lot of the local Big Lots and wait for a box of food to be loaded in their trunk. Of course, we as an organization knew there'd be quite a few people that would need assistance, but to see the number of children we saw, hear the number of languages we heard, and feel the weight these people were carrying on their shoulders, was incomprehensible. At the time, I had been taking Spanish for a minute, so I attempted to translate whenever I could. Every correct translation between the Spanish-speaking families and I led to smiles I will never forget. Every time my sister and I danced to distract the children in the lines, it again, led to smiles I will never forget. With this scholarship, I'll have the ability to make art that allows a population that isn't often recognized to feel the same way: seen and full of joy.

I am an accomplished playwright, having successfully advocated for people with disabilities and debilitating diseases through my art.

If I could recommend everyone to read one book, it would be "Finding Me" by Viola Davis. When I first saw this memoir sitting on the second shelf of my local Barnes and Noble, I was gobsmacked. The cover, a vulnerably raw close-up headshot of the beautiful Ms. Viola Davis, captivated me, but my mesmerization didn't cease there. In "Finding Me", Davis documents a multitude of terribly gutwrenching, brutally honest stories, a series of events that shaped her life. From witnessing violence between her father and mother, living with a sexually abusive brother, wetting the bed through her teenage years, being afraid to love out of fear of being hurt, etc., etc. this book snatched the wool from before my eyes and showed me that even the most successful people have scars, deep, deep scars. I see this book so profoundly because even as a fan of her work as an actress, I would have never guessed she experienced such tumultuous trauma. It's not uncommonly heard that actors will tap into the pain of the past to bring forth a more truthful reaction. However, there's a difference between tapping into a memory that only you're aware of and lying out all of your painful experiences for the world to see, leaving you not only emotionally naked before a camera but emotionally naked before the world. That takes courage, which to me, is the theme of the book. Despite her tribulations, Viola was insistent on making it out and making a difference. She didn't want the toxicity of her home to be cyclic in her life, so, despite the unknown, she fought her physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual challenges head-on and did the work to become the woman she is today, which makes me proud.

"Worth" Your worth is not defined by a gap between your thighs The tightness of your stomach, the definition of its lines Your worth is not defined by the creases at your eyes A straight or crooked smile, nor your weight or BMI Your worth is not defined by the relevance of your name Your tests, rates, grades, how much money your parents make Your worth is in your eyes, your beauty, strength, and might Worthy, you're worth it, put your doubt to rest tonight Your worth is not defined by the texture of your hair The place that you were raised, if momma stayed or dad was there Your worth is not defined if you're dark or skin is fair What you see, if you agree, it's not for us to truly care Your worth is not defined by how often that you stumble The way you love, how you think, if you're well or if you struggle Your worth is in your eyes, your beauty, strength, and might Worthy, you're worth it, forgive yourself tonight Your worth is not defined by how often that you rest The way you walk, how you speak, nor the way you choose to dress Your worth is not defined by a need to be the best A simple fall, a lost victory, honestly, we're all a mess Your worth is not defined by falsifying you're alright By pleasing every peer, or someone's opinion of what is right You're worth is in your eyes, your beauty, strength, and might Worthy, you're worth it, allow yourself to rest tonight

I'm sure I share a similar story to many other low-income students. From an early age, my parents have pushed me to achieve academic excellence. My dad, being the ringleader of this, often states, "Don't be like your mother and me. You keep your grades up! Don't worry about us and don't worry about your finances. No, we don't have much, but we'll find a way to help you, even if it means me taking up another job. Liv, it's at this point, going to school's going to be your only way out." See, although it can be difficult at times to navigate, I'm blessed to have parents that care enough about me and my success to push me to perform at my optimum level, as they didn't have the same scholastic opportunities when they were in school. Of course, my mom took the "normal" route, applied to a couple schools and scholarships, but due to finances, she couldn't afford to go. In addition to this, she became pregnant with my brother at nineteen and decided to be a stay-at-home mom, as school "wasn't for her". Alike my mom, my dad applied to one school just to see if he'd get in. He knew he wasn't going to go, as he helped my grandparents with many of their bills, but he at least wanted to try. And of course, he met my mom and had my brother shortly after. I say all of this to say, now that I've been given a chance, I can't let them down. Being a first-generation student, me refusing to receive a higher education knowing that I'll have adequate financial aid, large sums of support, and the grades to push me through would in a way be robbing my family of another opportunity. With a higher education, in my case a bachelor's degree in music production, I'd be provided a greater likelihood of getting a sustainable job, or to even start producing for other artists in a studio of my own. Realistically, I'd be financially stable enough to go back and help many climb the socioeconomic ladder, and maybe even put someone through school myself. For me, higher education isn't the bragging rights that some see it to be. It's a gift, one that I pray I can pass on to family, both older and younger, in attempt to help them achieve what they've always wanted instead of worrying what they are and aren't capable of completing. With an education, they'd be able to believe in themselves the same way they've encouraged me to believe in myself.

My life’s goal is to create music that connects people on both a spiritual and emotional level. I’m a firm believer in music communicating the words unspoken, therefore, if I’m able to arrange such words and melodies that both make sense of and connect people with these same feelings, I’ll have accomplished everything I know my purpose to be.

I find it important to live a healthy lifestyle so that I may peak to be my optimal mental and physical self. By performing at my optimum mental and physical levels I'll be able to be more productive and use my energy more efficiently. Often times today there is greater emphasis on being result driven rather than what one feels. This is seen through unspoken competition to be the top performer in the office or simply by attempting to be the biggest and boldest in the gym. Living and operating in the ways of a true healthy lifestyle offer balance, allowing for one not to only be healthy, but to feel healthy too. Personally, there are many reasons as to why I stay committed to a healthy lifestyle. For starters, my family has a history of health issues. These diagnoses include diabetes, type I and II, congestive heart failure, high blood pressure, arthritis, cholesterol issues, depression, and anxiety. To try to avoid these, I have cleaned up my eating habits, going as far as becoming a pescatarian, which I thoroughly enjoy. I also remain active, as I try to lift four days a week on top of currently training for a half marathon. Through moving my body and eating better, I've noticed a difference in my mood. I've always been told that endorphins are released when healthy eating and exercise is combined, but I didn't realize how effective these endorphins could be in tackling my bouts of anxiety, which usually isn't an issue but does give me trouble every once in a while. On the topic of anxiety and mental health, in focusing on becoming stronger and living a healthier lifestyle, I've noticed how wellness extends further than physical fitness. Therefore, to ensure I'm well mentally, emotionally, and spiritually I read books, specifically nonfiction with my Bible being the forefront book. In addition to reading, I also focus on humbling myself to grow in my faith, praying for guidance instead of putting so much pressure on myself. Smaller goal setting has been helpful in this as well, as I don't have to worry about cramming so much in a day. Instead, I can focus little by little and put more energy into the projects that I care about. Overall, I started my healthy lifestyle journey to avoid illness, but I'm continuing it to become a better person, and I pray that through my actions I can inspire others to do the same.

There are many reasons as to why I stay committed to a healthy lifestyle. For starters, my family has a history of health issues. These diagnoses include diabetes, type I and II, congestive heart failure, high blood pressure, arthritis, cholesterol issues, depression, and anxiety. To try to avoid these, I have cleaned up my eating habits, going as far as becoming a pescatarian, which I thoroughly enjoy. I also remain active, as I try to lift four days a week on top of currently training for a half marathon. Through moving my body and eating better, I've noticed a difference in my mood. I've always been told that endorphins are released when healthy eating and exercise is combined, but I didn't realize how effective these endorphins could be in tackling my bouts of anxiety, which usually isn't an issue but does give me trouble every once in a while. On the topic of anxiety and mental health, in focusing on becoming stronger and living a healthier lifestyle, I've noticed how wellness extends further than physical fitness. Therefore, to ensure I'm well mentally, emotionally, and spiritually I read books, specifically nonfiction with my Bible being the forefront book. In addition to reading, I also focus on humbling myself to grow in my faith, praying for guidance instead of putting so much pressure on myself. Smaller goal setting has been helpful in this as well, as I don't have to worry about cramming so much in a day. Instead, I can focus little by little and put more energy into the projects that I care about. Overall, I started my healthy lifestyle journey to avoid illness, but I'm continuing it to become a better person.

Five years. That's how long it took my siblings and me to convince my parents to get us a dog. Everyday we'd harass them saying, "We promise to take care of it. May we please get a dog? PLEASE?" Without fail they'd reply, "No. We can't afford it, nor are you old enough or responsible yet." We almost gave up hope until one day, shockingly, our parents sat us down at dinner and gave us the big news. "After we're finished with dinner, we have a surprise for you." They looked at each other nervously and we immediately knew something was up. "We're getting a dog!" Without a second having passed after they said the word dog, my sister burst into tears. We were so excited! We scarfed down our food and raced to go pick up our new puppy. We named her Dakota. She's a toy Australian shepherd with an incredible amount of energy. When we first got her, she weighed just over three pounds. She could fit in the palm of my hand. She was, and is, absolutely perfect! I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Although many people get dogs to protect themselves, I felt the incessant need to protect her. It was strange, but so real. Her first night home she really didn't know what to do, and honestly, neither did we. We placed her on her "take home baby blanket" and took an unnecessary number of pictures. Then we introduced her to her toy bin, which with her being so petite, she had to jump in and dig when she wanted a specific toy. I caught on to her personality quite quickly too. As we were going to bed the first night, she barked. Loudly. I remember thinking, "How in the world does this dog have a bark the size of a seventy pounder while being smaller than the weights I lift at the gym?" It didn't make sense to me. The following morning, I also noticed how she used her ears to communicate her emotions. First, she's incredibly nosy, so she perked her ears up to any sound imaginable and continues to do the same thing today. At first, we thought something was wrong because her floppy ears weren't folding over anymore, but funny enough, we later found out she strengthened her ears too much to have them flop down again. Crazy, I know, but that's my Kota bear. It's been nearly six years since my family has had Dakota and I can't imagine my life without her. I don't even know how I functioned before without having her in my life. She's the best cuddle buddy, the sweetest and sassiest bundle of joy all at once, consistently trying to give out kisses. She spins when she's happy and is so incredibly smart both intellectually and emotionally. I'm less stressed when she's around. I have a greater amount of joy when I play with her. She's everything to me and I'm so blessed that she's a part of my life.

Five years. That's how long it took my siblings and me to convince my parents to get us a dog. Everyday we'd harass them saying, "We promise to take care of it. May we please get a dog? PLEASE?" Without fail they'd reply, "No. We can't afford it, nor are you old enough or responsible yet." We almost gave up hope until one day, shockingly, our parents sat us down at dinner and gave us the big news. "After we're finished with dinner, we have a surprise for you." They looked at each other nervously and we immediately knew something was up. "We're getting a dog!" Without a second having passed after they said the word dog, my sister burst into tears. We were so excited! We scarfed down our food and raced to go pick up our new puppy. We named her Dakota. She's a toy Australian shepherd with an incredible amount of energy. When we first got her, she weighed just over three pounds. She could fit in the palm of my hand. She was, and is, absolutely perfect! I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Although many people get dogs to protect themselves, I felt the incessant need to protect her. It was strange, but so real. Her first night home she really didn't know what to do, and honestly, neither did we. We placed her on her "take home baby blanket" and took an unnecessary number of pictures. Then we introduced her to her toy bin, which with her being so petite, she had to jump in and dig when she wanted a specific toy. I caught on to her personality quite quickly too. As we were going to bed the first night, she barked. Loudly. I remember thinking, "How in the world does this dog have a bark the size of a seventy pounder while being smaller than the weights I lift at the gym?" It didn't make sense to me. The following morning, I also noticed how she used her ears to communicate her emotions. First, she's incredibly nosy, so she perked her ears up to any sound imaginable and continues to do the same thing today. At first, we thought something was wrong because her floppy ears weren't folding over anymore, but funny enough, we later found out she strengthened her ears too much to have them flop down again. Crazy, I know, but that's my Kota bear. It's been nearly six years since my family has had Dakota and I can't imagine my life without her. I don't even know how I functioned before without having her in my life. She's the best cuddle buddy, the sweetest and sassiest bundle of joy all at once, consistently trying to give out kisses. She spins when she's happy and is so incredibly smart both intellectually and emotionally. I'm less stressed when she's around. I have a greater amount of joy when I play with her. She's everything to me and I'm so blessed that she's a part of my life.

There are three quotes that sum up every ember of passion I have pertaining to music. They state as follows: “Music is the great uniter. An incredible force. Something that people who differ on everything and anything else can have in common” – Sarah Dessen. “Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent” – Victor Hugo. “Music is an emotional pipeline; it makes the dust piles of life seem less drab. Music touches and connects everybody; it allows a person to comprehend that they feel the same joy, hopes, fears, and desires as all people” – Kilroy J. Oldster. I've been singing since I could speak and composing songs since I could formulate thought. Between financial catastrophes, constant moving, and family trouble and burden, music has been my only constant. As dramatic as it sounds, as I write this with every ounce of sincerity, in times of trial, music is the only thing that keeps me going. I can't get ready without listening. I can't read without it playing. I can't workout, do homework, eat, even go to sleep without consuming music! It's present in every part of my life. As I've gotten older, I've noticed its contagious effect on others as well. Everywhere I turn I see people with headphones on, nodding their heads or tapping their feet to the beat in their ears. I used to believe I was the only one to create playlists and load songs onto CDs for certain occasions as well. Turns out, many, many, many find joy in that too! I want to be a part of that, more specifically, I want my music to be a part of the playlist underscoring their everyday lives. As stated in my Bold.org bio, I want to write, produce, and perform my own music for a living. Considering how the lyrics and melodies of artists such as Tori Kelly, Lauryn Hill, Jonathan McReynolds, etc. have changed my life, I can't help but hope and wonder if one of my simple melodies or lyrics could change someone's life too. Again, to some that may sound lofty, but I mean it sincerely and humbly. If one word I write could lead someone to take the first step in their healing journey, then I'll have fulfilled my purpose here on this Earth. I want to bring people together, show them that we all have scars, that we're not as different as we like to think. And if I can't do that with my words, I strive and pray for a melody to carry the unspoken message; as music is a gift, one that I pray to never stop sharing.

My dream future is a combination of working behind the scenes and standing behind the mic. As stated in my Bold.org bio, I pray to write, produce, and perform my own songs in the future. Many laugh when I say this, but I mean it with every ounce of sincerity. I've been singing since I could speak and "composing" songs since I could formulate thought. I don't recall the name or melody of my first composition, but I'm sure it had to do with a nap, crackers, or Teddy Grahams. It wasn't until eleven, still young yes I know, that I decided that writing, producing, and performing songs was what I wanted to do. Even at eighteen, this dream hasn't deviated once, which I'm told isn't heard of often, or at least on the career front. Personally, I pray to marry in the future and be the best possible wife I can be to my husband. I also dream of having children, four if I'm being picky. I dream of growing in my faith, as it is the most important part of me, and to raise my children alongside my husband to be warriors for Christ. Again, this dream hasn't deviated either, well, except from previously wanting eight kids. After careful consideration, eight kids is a no for me. Although these dreams haven't changed in the many years they've existed, that doesn't mean I haven't doubted their legitimacy or ability to come into fruition. Doubt, specifically self-doubt, stands in the way of me building my dream future. It's my biggest struggle and carries the heaviest burden. I am beginning to make progress though through journaling. Every day, either in the morning or shortly before going to bed, I'll write out everything I'm feeling: positive, negative, senseful, senseless, grammatically correct, or grammatically incorrect. I essentially word vomit or brain dump, and I often don't even reread what I wrote. Journaling has seriously changed the game for me. And in addition to it, as I'm sure could be assumed, I pray. I choose to place my burdens upon a higher power, One I know watches over and protects me, consistently seeking out my best interest. Now, should I be praying more? Yes. I will admit that. However, in exercising these two fundamentals, my doubt has started to subside, leading me to be the fearless woman I know I'm called to be. I know with faith I'll be able to achieve my dreams and hopefully encourage others to do the same.

When applying to school, student loan debt was something discussed, but not something I was entirely prepared for. I was set on going out of state. Many friends and family members warned me about the costs, but I pushed their warnings aside and ran at the idea anyway. Well, until I received my acceptance letters. I got into my first choice college with in-state tuition. I was overjoyed for fifteen minutes before I started panicking at the words "estimated $26,000 per year". What? After receiving a massive scholarship I still had to come up with that much a year? How is that possible? The same principle applied for my second choice, except for I received zero scholarships there and would have had to come out of pocket $45,000 per year. Yeah. No thank you. That being said, the first step I took to avoid a large sum of student debt was to settle on an in state college. It hurt at first, but ended up being a blessing because I got accepted into my dream major at a fraction of the cost. My second step is one I'm still working on. Scholarships and other financial aid. I applied to FAFSA incredibly early. My application was submitted the day the portal opened. I ensured I did everything I could to get the maximum amount. Similar to scholarships, I tried and continue to try to apply as early as possible in attempt to show my need and eagerness. On Bold.org alone, this will be my sixty fifth scholarship application. I have yet to be awarded one, as many of my applications are still in review or have yet to be reviewed, but I'm not losing faith. I'm going to keep trying! I need aid and will do everything in my power to not have to take out a ridiculous amount of loans. My third step is researching. I want to take in as much knowledge as possible regarding interest rates and student loan forgiveness. Again, I am still working on this step, as I believe no one can be too knowledgeable in this area, but I have made progress. And finally, my fourth step in addressing and preventing more student loan debt is working. I am currently unemployed but actively looking for a job. I'd prefer to obtain a part time job so that I can still work on my studies, but any income at this point is helpful in not having to take out any more loans and to pay off the loans that I've already obtained.

This may sound silly, but my favorite scientific discovery has to do with how dogs breathe. Many don't know that dogs have four holes on their noses instead of two. Looking at the anatomy of a dog's nose, there are two dominant holes and two slits, creating two smaller holes. The two dominant holes are responsible for breathing, simply put, inhaling and exhaling. This being said however, when a dog exhales, unlike humans, the air isn't "gone for good". A human can breathe in and breathe out without taking in the same breath, but dogs circulate their breath using their two slits and smaller holes. This process is best explained through an excerpt from dogdiscoveries.com. The excerpt reads: "In dogs instead, when they exhale, the air flows out of those slits creating a swirl of air. These small currents of air, seemingly exiting from the side of the dog's nostrils, are not gone for good, but rather lift more particles of odor off the sniffed surfaces which are then once again suctioned for further investigation." Isn't that fascinating? I used to think my dog was so nosy, no pun intended, but now when she rummages through the house, I can't help but think about this process!

"It was a combination of things." This was my mother's response to the question. "Well, it was partly in tribute of your great-great grandmother, but I also had a dream." For a while, my name was going to be Olive, after my maternal great grandmother's mother. When I was first told this, I was relieved. I WAS going to be named Olive. I didn't want to be named after a vegetable! But after I was told how grand of a woman she was, sometimes I wish I took on her name. Olive slowly fizzled out though after a dream my mother had. My parents were going back and forth on my name, so after a disagreement she had with my father, my mom went to take a nap. While she slept, she saw a little girl, presumably me, wreaking havoc in the house. In attempt to stop her, my mom shouted, "EMMA GRACE!" Then, she immediately woke up. After the dream, my parents were set on my name. Emma Grace Holland. Confident and ready to share it with the rest of the family, they shared the name with my paternal grandmother, my Gramma. They explained the entire evolution. Olive, the arguing, the dream, everything. My grandmother voiced her support, but also offered up another option. "Why don't you name her Olivia? Olivia Grace Holland. Then, you can pull in the familial aspect as well as the middle name." My parents were taken aback. In explaining the story, my mom said as simple as the name change from Olive to Olivia was, she and my father had never thought about it. With the new idea, coming from a religious household, my parents of course had to pray about it. I assume it went something like this: Lord, help us in confirming this name for our child. We pray to name her Olivia Grace Holland, a familial name after her great-great grandmother, a dream-based name You gave us, and a biblically based name after the olive branch carrying dove in Genesis marking the end of the flood. We pray it honors You, as we aim to glorify You always. We thank and love You Lord. In Your beautiful and beloved Son Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Gratefully, my mom and dad received their confirmation around 5:30pm on May 27, 2004. At eight pounds and two ounces a new baby girl entered the world, and she was named Olivia Grace Holland.

I embody selflessness by being selfless with my time. An example of when I did this was volunteering for the Christ for Our Crisis food program. As everyone knows, the pandemic hit local communities hard. To alleviate some of the burden, as shelves at our grocery stores remained empty, my church congregation organized a program, Christ for Our Crisis, to provide boxes of food to underprivileged families unable to afford groceries at the time. As expected, my sister and I were signed up as participating volunteers. Each day arriving on scene, the empty parking lot of Big Lots and Burlington, I saw my Bishop and church brothers and sisters. Sister Helen would brief my sister and I on our duties, ask each car how many boxes were needed, load those boxes, and add a “God bless you” cheer at the end to seal the visit. When she'd finish, my sister and I would look at one another, I'd say a quick thank you for the both of us, and we'd get to work. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect going into the program, but faces of all shades, cars of all models, families ranging from two to twelve lined every available inch of our workspace. I was shocked. I knew we didn’t live in LA, we weren’t a rich city, nor did we live in the middle of Timbuktu, we had some resources, but in that moment staring at the sea of cars surrounding me, I felt my city relate closer to the latter. It was a blow to the gut, enough to take my breath away. James 4:6 states, “God opposes the proud and shows favor to the humble.” I lived by that. I live by that. From my first breath that verse has been ingrained in me, however, it wasn’t until this, it wasn’t until me seeing children my age begging for help, pleading for food, translating for their parents to get through to me, that I was humbled. It wasn’t until then I saw my true God given favor. With that being said, I saw to it my duty to establish personal, semi personal, relationships with reoccurring visitors. I used some of the Spanish I had learned in school to aid in translation with the little girl in the big red van, I danced around jokingly to make the little Mexican boys smile, I thanked the veterans for their service. I did everything I could to erase the divide: the help versus the ones in need of help, not for them, but for me. In those moments, being selfless to those in hunger fed me--fed my soul. The experience completely changed my life, and I pray to continue to volunteer in similar programs for as long as I possibly can.

My dad has always expressed the importance of common sense to me. “It is common sense that runs this world Olivia, not book smarts.” In ninth grade, my parents agreed I was wise enough to make educated common-sense decisions and allowed me to go on my first overnight school trip. New York City! I shared a hotel with three of my best friends; our chaperones staying across the hall. Of course, in sticking four ninth grade girls in one room, things are going to get a little rowdy! I remember our first night sitting on the floor playing the whisper challenge and laughing uncontrollably. WHAM! The four of us immediately froze. Mariah, always prepared, grabbed her pepper spray. Our neighbors were arguing loudly. What made the situation worse was the fact that we had a shared room, meaning a singular door separated the living spaces of our and our neighbor’s room. The argument continued to escalate, eventually leading to one of the neighbors attempting to escape through the shared door. As the doorknob to our room started to turn, like a switch, all four of us jumped and bolted to our chaperones. “Y’all, I don’t know what you want us to do. It’s late and you need to get some sleep.” I looked at my friends, scared to go back. My dad’s voice replayed in my mind. I idiotically pushed it aside, and for a reason I have still yet to find, I angrily walked to our neighbor’s door and KNOCKED ON IT! And if that wasn’t enough, I had the audacity to say, “Excuse me, there are people trying to sleep next door. May you please keep it down? We’d greatly appreciate it.” Feeling accomplished, without waiting for a response, I walked back to my room, gagging away the stench of alcohol. I thought about it later and only then did it occur to me what could have happened to me: a stubborn fourteen-year-old knocking on a stranger’s door in Midtown Manhattan. Let’s just say my teacher had some choice words with me the following morning!

Understanding the concept of debt, specifically student loan debt, was a lesson I found difficult but extremely necessary to learn. Of the six colleges I applied to, I got into half with two of the three being out of state colleges. I was ecstatic thinking about how I'd be able to leave my hometown, as I'd lived in the same provincial area my entire life, but this joy quickly came to a halt. After sitting down with my parents, I quickly realized going to an out of state institution was not possible for me. Considering my parents couldn't afford to help, I was going to be forced to take out a minimum of $26,000 per year even after scholarship. As devastated as I was, I tried to find a way out of it, stating things like, "Well, it's just $26,000. That's a little over $100,000 after four years." It made no sense. $100,000 is a mortgage in some areas. How could I reasonably and responsibly accumulate that much debt as a twenty-two-year-old and not expect to struggle to pay it off on my own? With this being said however, I have now passed this information off to my sister, who is applying to colleges here in the next few months. Realizing how difficult it was for me once I understood I couldn't afford to go to one of my top choices due to finances, I shared this information with her as I strive to ensure that she has a greater opportunity of being able to go out if she so chooses. I don't want her to have to worry about loans, finances, and affordability. I just want her to learn and enjoy herself while doing so.

I preface this by saying I've been called a "music head" since birth. Any genre, voice timbre, instrument, I'm sold and attentively listening. With this knowledge, I'm sure it's obvious my favorite artistic outlet is music. My favorite song is "Nice Work If You Can Get It" in the rendition of Sarah Vaughan. Does this choice make me an old soul? Maybe. But that's besides the point. This song never fails to make me smile. It has a timey Big Band, also known as Swing, sound. Filled with horns coupled with a jazzy piano, and of course Ms. Vaughan's sultry mezzo, this selection is nothing short of a masterpiece. Whether I'm in the mood to lounge on my couch, dance, laugh, or me being an overthinker, daydream, this song comforts me. I've shared this song with my family and many of friends, most of which don't understand my passion for the piece, but alas, "Nice Work If You Can Get It" is incredible and its melodic perfection has completely changed my perspective of art in general.

As cliché as it sounds, I practice bravery and living boldly by continuing to dream. Coming from a low income household, "dreaming big" isn't a concept often spoken about. Unlike many, conversations regarding the process of making music and performing it for a living aren't discussed at the dinner table. Instead, lectures often ensue to ensure both my siblings and I know we have very little room for financial error. That being said however, and as I mentioned before, making and performing music is what I dream of doing. I'm involved in some part of the process everyday, whether it be writing, recording, learning to produce, etc. I do it with everything in me knowing no one is watching or listening to me. Well, at least not yet. I know how difficult it's going to be. I've heard the stories of artists having to give up everything to achieve success. I've heard the homeless stories. The only eating Ramen and SpaghettiOs stories. I'm not afraid. Nothing scares me more than the fear of regret for not chasing after what I know I've been placed here to do. Therefore, I'm going to bravely and boldly live and strive to make music to the best of my capability. I will study, learn, and humbly network to reach the level I'm meant to reach, praying one day to hear someone boldly singing the lyrics my heart so proudly felt climbing my way to the top.

"Letters for Retirement Homes" is a program I started in the thick of the coronavirus pandemic to aid in the comfort of those in assisted living and retirement homes. On everyday occasions, those in these homes are often forgotten about. This abandonment heightened during quarantine. To close some of the gap, I started writing and mailing cards to three retirement homes, two of which my great grandparents used to work at and the third being here locally. As the demand for cards grew, I involved my high school, and my peers would aid me in making cards for me to mail. In addition to cards, every Tuesday I would Zoom call residents at one of the retirement homes. Ms. Dorothy is one I would often speak to, simply having small talk and asking her for wisdom. Not only did it humble me and bring me joy, but this experience, from what I was told by staff, was the highlight of many residents' day.

"And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength. The second is equally important: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' No other commandment is greater than these." (Mark 12:30-31 NLT) As a Christian, loving God with all of me is something I've understood for a while, however, I didn't fully understand the latter commandment until two months ago. I thought loving my neighbor the way I wanted to be loved was enough to fulfill what Jesus commanded me to do, but this isn't true. If I only give out the love that I want to receive, I could be viewed as narcissistic, and in addition to this, what someone may need from me I can't give to them because I can't truly humble myself to love them fully. I finally realized if I didn't like myself, I wouldn't be able to truly love others. If I didn't feel whole within myself, I couldn't build someone up because I would be seeking to fill myself with other things. I have to truly love myself to be able to humbly care for and love others.

Plastic has a major negative impact on the environment. On top of taking years to break down, small fragments often cause issues in relation to animals, either being viewed as food or harming them externally. In attempt to combat this, my family and I have started recycling! When buying water bottles, when finished, we place the empty bottles in a bag, and when that bag is full, we bring it down to the local Food Lion recycling bins. When buying groceries, we bring reusable bags to save on plastic as well. Or in the times we forget to bring the reusables, we collect the plastic bags and use them for trash or bring them to our local Kroger bag collecting site. In addition to minimizing my plastic use, I don't eat meat. I do eat fish, but I understand the meat industry is extremely damaging to the environment. My family has lessened their consumption of meat as well.

I make sure to complete at least one creative task each day. I understand this may be difficult for some, as many have 9-5s, etc., etc., but making time for creativity has always been a strength of mine. As someone who loves poetry, on the days where time isn't as abundant, I'll scratch out a little something, maybe a short free verse, or even simpler, a haiku. In making time for poetry over the years, in the past year I had the honor of two of my poems being published in online student journals. If I have a little more time, my personal favorite way to be creative is to write songs. I can't produce yet, although I'm working on that, but I've been writing songs since the age of eleven. It not only challenges me creatively, but it's a form of escape for me, aiding in healing and mental health. And honestly, I guess that's why creativity exists in the first place, to take us back to a headspace where stress, anxiety, and depression aren't the foremost emotions in our minds, but peace.

If anything is taken from those younger than me, I pray they understand the importance of protecting their hearts. In my seventeen short years of living, I can admit to being hurt multiple times. Of those multiple, as difficult as it is, most of them could have been avoided if I had learned the concept of protecting my heart. For a while, I positioned myself in emotionally unsafe friendships and relationships. I've always been a swift forgiver, but until recently, I would forgive someone and then allow them to abuse me again. I didn't have a balance. Following my season of forgiving too easily, due to my hurt, I would guard myself. Not protect myself, but guard myself. Many sadly don't know the difference: protecting yourself is doing what's necessary to maintain your peace, while guarding yourself is blocking everyone out in attempt to find peace. I fell into anxiety and a period of depression while in the latter season before I finally found a balance. Now, walking the road of healing, I try to help others who are experiencing what I once experienced. I remind them they are not selfish for protecting themselves and putting their mental health first. I encourage them, and even give them my number at times to talk. I try to be available for them, as no one was available to me, because I know how helpful it would've been. Until you truly know how to protect your heart and love yourself, you will not be able to truly love your neighbor, and I pray through teaching those younger the concept of protect themselves will lead to a society where love is most prominent.

From the age of eleven, I've had a fascination with poetry. I would study the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Langston Hughes, and my personal favorite, Maya Angelou. When studying Ms. Angelou, I came across one of her quotes. She said, "When you get give, and when you learn teach." At first I didn't really understand what this meant, as I thought she meant when I learn a new math trick I should teach a kid some new word I learned the definition of, but her intent was much deeper. What Maya meant by this quote was when I receive a piece of wisdom, I shouldn't keep it to myself. I should share whatever lesson it is I learn. Gratefully, I have adopted this concept, and as difficult as it is at times, I exercise it as often as possible. For example, as a Christian, I often have theologically based conversations. Yesterday while I was journaling, I came to the realization that divine anointing is different from divine gifting. Divine anointing is associated with legacy and purpose, while divine gifting is what is given to a person to fulfill their anointing. After letting this soak in, I immediately went to my mom and told her what I had learned. In addition, considering I have many friends that align with my religious views, I shared this realization to Instagram. As simple as her words were, I will apply the concept of Ms. Angelou's gems for the rest of my life.

Since I was a child I've been very goal oriented. Whether the goals were short term or long term, I strove, and continue to strive, to reach them everyday. As of right now, five goals lay forefront in my mind. Goal number one: run a half marathon. I preface this goal by saying I'm not a runner. I enjoy running, but I'm the furthest thing from superior in the sport. Here in the next few months, as I'm trying to finish up the latter part of my senior year, I will begin training for the race. I'm not sure which half marathon I'll run, but crossing the finish line is definitely a goal of mine. Goal number two: write, produce, and successfully release my music. I've been called a music head for as long as I can remember, but what many people don't know is that I write and have a desire to release my own music. I'm going to school to study how to do this, attempting to steward my gifts and passions. I know it may be difficult, but I'm ready for the challenge. Goal number three: write a book. Luckily, I already have an idea for said book, but to complete the writing and publishing of it would be a dream come true! Goal number four: successfully start and complete college. Yes, I still have a few weeks of high school, but I am so excited to start college! I'm not learning in the way I originally planned, but I am so ready to take in new knowledge and information. Goal number five: deepen my relationship with God. As my faith is very important to me, deepening my relationship with my Creator and God is a great, if not the most important goal, I have.

Throughout my student life, I've been given many study tips, most of which did not work. As I've grown though, I've found three study strategies that have allowed me to keep above a 4.0 GPA without having to stress too much! First up, flashcards. Yes, I understand many don't like the monotony, but flashcards have been a game changer in my study routine. Whether I make them out of index cards, random pieces of paper, or on Quizlet, which happens to be my personal favorite, I've found flashcards to be incredibly helpful. I even like to compete with myself for better and faster times in completion! Second, rewriting notes. This is either a love it or hate it strategy. I align myself with the former. When I was young, my mom told me the brain makes a memorization connection when you write out your notes. As time consuming at it was, and continues to be, before a test I will make sure to sit down with a pen and paper and physically write out my notes. Again, this has been a game changer, as I've even caught myself doing this with to-do lists and random tasks throughout the day! And third, looking over my study guides right before I go to bed. This can be a controversial tactic, but it works well for me. Having my notes and study guides be the last thing I see before I go to bed leaves the information to be forefront in my mind for the following morning, leading to me feeling prepared for whatever test or exam awaits me! As I go into college, I'm sure I'll adopt a few more tactics, but these three will definitely be coming with me!

According to Oxford Languages, gratitude is the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness. Although I've never been disingenuous with my gratitude, it was only two years ago that I truly understood gratitude at its very root. In the latter of 2020, my church started a program named Christ for Our Crisis, a free food program for those underprivileged. Every Saturday morning, my sister and I would show up to the Burlington parking lot to assist our church family in feeding the community. At first, I saw it as a chore, but as I looked around at the cars lining the parking lot, a literal sea of 200 to 300 cars, as I heard young children translating between volunteer workers and their parents, as I saw teenagers I recognized from school, I realized how selfish that way of thinking was. Am I wealthy? Absolutely not. Do I have my own room? No. Do my parents own the home we're in? No, for we live in my grandmother's basement. But do I have a roof? Yes. And can my family afford to buy groceries? Yes. In seeing how little others had, how many people I personally knew that lacked basic necessities, I realized how much I did have and how grateful I should be to have those things. Don't get me wrong, I have to remind myself to be humble at times, as I'm sure many do, but since the program, I've never failed to appreciate what I have.

From the age of eleven, I've had great confidence in my future career. Of course, as I've matured, the details and specifics have been refined, but for the most part my future career has remained the same. I want to bring people together through music, particularly worship music. My faith is very important to me. I've been told and personally believe I've been gifted to write and sing, but I want to steward those gifts. I plan to do this by attending Liberty University. In addition to studying music production, I will also be majoring in biblical and theological studies. In doing this, I will be able to not only authenticate my songs from personal experience, but from biblical context and understanding, the latter of which often gets neglected, but is very important. I plan to study biblical and theological studies through my doctorate degree, and music and music production through my masters degree. I plan to work at a local business to aid in funding my college education, but in following school, I plan to write, produce, and perform my own music, and in addition, work at a church on the weekends to keep me grounded and humble. I work every day to achieve these dreams and goals, to achieve my purpose, even if it's a few steps at a time.

I'm committed to being selfless as a result of what the selfless acts of others has done for my family. For example, growing up in a low-income household, any financial help was greatly appreciated. A few years back, right before the start of a new school year, my mom and I went to Old Navy. We had budgeted to spend a certain amount, but as I stated before, money was still expected to be tight. As we were standing in line about to check out, the lady in front of us received a coupon. My mom got excited, thinking that we might be eligible for one too. Turns out we were, but not in the way she was expecting. Instead of the lady shoving her $50 coupon in her purse, she turned around and handed it to my mom saying, "God bless you and have a wonderful day." I never got her name, or was able to thank her properly, as my mom and I were both in a bit of shock, but the gratefulness I felt, to this day I cannot describe. She'll never know it, but because of her generous and selfless deed, my siblings and I were able to go to school with brand new jeans instead of hand-me-downs and those from consignment stores. Knowing how it felt to receive a selfless gift, I now make the effort to give to others through volunteering at my church handing out free food to underprivileged families, donating money to notable causes, and in the times I can afford to go out to eat, I make sure to leave a generous tip for my waiter or waitress. It took me a while to understand, but now I truly do: it is better to give than to receive.

I must say, life hasn't always been easy. Being in a working family of five, receiving the attention I needed growing up occurred very rarely. I often felt alone, or in the times I didn't, I was with my sister aiding her in coping with the same feeling. As I've matured though, instead of holding onto the hurt, I've chosen for my pain to have purpose. When I see someone sitting alone, upset, or simply going throughout their day without a smile, I make the effort to wave, engage in conversation, or give a friendly smile in passing. It brings me joy to hear the responses of those I'm now friends with that originally had no idea who I was, but due to giving them the very attention I so craved as a child, they saw me as likable. As I'm going into ministry, I'm glad I'm able to use what happened, or lack there of, to me and use it for the help of others. I have hope that as I continue this, people will continue to see me as approachable and allow me to lend them a hand in their times of tribulation. In addition to this, I have hope that the joy and compassion I offer others will not only be received by the individuals in direct communication with me, but that joy and compassion, love and empathy, and time and attention will be extended to others after them.

It's safe to say the past few years haven't been fun. Being thrown into a pandemic led to many being let off from work, switching to online school, dropping sports, shutting business doors, etc. These disappointments left many questioning if there was anything to be optimistic about at all. Although I definitely felt the pressures of anxiety and doubt in the past few years, overall, I'd say I've remained pretty optimistic. I've always been taught to look on the bright side, and in difficult times it's no different. I actually lean into my optimism more in times of trouble! I remain optimistic by staying in the Word, the Bible, praying, speaking with my family, and continuing to focus on fulfilling my purpose. My "why" in life is what pushes me to keep getting up, throw my shoulders back, and hold my head high. I work to, and pray that, my optimism is seen by others and inspires them to be optimistic themselves!

According to Oxford Languages, failure is the lack of success, reciprocating that success is the lack of failure. In today's society, the standards of success align with this definition, however, the true definition of success is the ability to fail up or forward. You see, failures are just steps toward your next success. You cannot succeed without failing first. Anyone that disagrees with this statement has yet to truly taste and savor true success. At first this concept made no sense to me, but as I've grown, it has aided me in countless situations. For example, a few years ago I applied for a summer Governor's school program for musical theatre. It was a simple application, it didn't even include an essay, but the amount of detours I had to take just to set up an audition was tremendous. I had to have two songs prepared: one classical contemporary, I chose "Shenandoah", and the other more modern, I chose "A Change In Me". I rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed and yet heard nothing back from the program's audition department. Bump number one. Luckily after reaching out I received a slot, so I continued doing what I was doing before. I continued to rehearse up until the night before, as I wanted to give my voice a break before the audition. That night as I rested, I decided to take one last peep at my sheet music and soundtrack. I'm not sure how I didn't notice before, but in that last peep I realized the two key signatures didn't match and that I would not be able to properly audition because of this mistake. I was heartbroken. Not only had I put so much energy into preparing my selections, I had taken nearly fifty dollars from my savings to pay and make sure this mistake did not take place. I tried calling the audition department again to reschedule a different time, but it was no use. Bump number two. Despite all this, although there was little I could do, I still held onto hope. And then, bump number three occurred. Covid. I'm sure that can go without explanation, for everyone's plans and hope were lost, but to have spent all that energy on something just to fail to even complete the first step of admission was disheartening. That being said, however, I used this lesson, and a few months down the road was able to complete an online play through Zoom with Virginia Tech being the only high schooler to be casted! In twenty years time, I plan to be ministering the Word of God and writing and performing my songs. Considering that I essentially do this already, instead of trying to balance it with school, to truly go out into the world and do what God has commanded me to do without restriction would be absolutely remarkable. I pray these lessons, and those additional that He teaches me, will continue to shape me into the best and most successful woman I can be.

My grandfather was the rock of my family. Physically, emotionally, and most importantly spiritually, as he was a pastor. He ensured everyone was well cared for and felt safe in their given environments. Unexpectedly though, around two o' clock on 7/21/21, he passed. I remember that day as it was yesterday. I woke up to my dad answering his phone. It was 8:11. The first words I heard that morning were "He coded". I didn't even bother to make sure I had heard them correctly before I was waking my siblings. Within fifteen minutes, without most of us even bothering to change, we were on the road. His blood pressure refused to rise. The doctors tried everything, even an experimental drug at the time. We as a family prayed, nearly arguing with God to not allow us to lose him. We'd walk back and forth to his room talking to him and holding his hand, letting his spirit speak his last message to each of us individually before slipping into the hands of God to complete his next mission on the other side. My grandfather was known to work three jobs throughout the week, take night classes on the weekends, and still get up to preach a new message every Sunday behind the pulpit. His willingness to fight despite exhaustion, sickness, frustration, weakness, etc. is what inspires me to fight. He taught me, "No one's going to do the work for you. If you want something, you have to take the initiative to do it. Remember, you can do all things through Christ whom gives you strength. Lean and rely on Him as you work." From the first time he told me that I vowed to fulfill it, and now that he's gone, I strive everyday to make sure I hit every mark I know I'm capable of hitting. I understand I will never be my grandfather. I know I've been placed on this earth for a reason set apart from him, a purpose unique to me, but I can't help but to desire to follow in his footsteps. I'm going to school for biblical and theology studies. I'm volunteering and working within my church. I'm trying to be the best young woman I can be as I know my grandfather was the best man he could be. Even though he's no longer with me, I'm appreciative for the time he gave me as I know I would not be the same person I am today without his guidance.

Marguerite Annie Johnson, commonly known as Maya Angelou, will forever be my favorite historical figure. Many know her for her literary genius, and although great, her poetry only scratches the surface of her admirability. In her time on this earth, Maya exuded every ounce of resilience. Although I'm sure this is gathered just by reading the required passages of her work in school, in extending one's reading outside of the classroom, her resilience is seen to be even greater through her six autobiographies, in which testify to her many struggles. At the age of seven, Maya was raped by a close family friend. After her uncles caught wind of the incident, they found Maya's aggressor and fatally kicked him. Not understanding at the time, Maya believed she killed her rapist because she voiced of what he did to her. Because of this, she forced herself into a league of silence for five years. Little did she know that when she finally decided to use the very words she saw as weapons, she would be able to heal and inspire so many. She encourages me. Although I never suffered the gruesome assault she did at such a tender age, again I'll speak to it, her resilience and determination to keep going, to keep training, to keep learning, to keep working, even as a teenage mother, is unheard of! Every trauma or setback she endured she found a way to channel into her writing, leading to an inexplainable comfort and relatability. I only pray to have an impact such as hers and for my works to be as potent.

I come from a family where one does as he or she is told. No questions asked, nor backtalking required. Although this allowed for me to establish a deep respect for my parents, it also left me with many questions and ideas for conversation, most of which I was too afraid to ask. Because of this, as I've matured, I've been forced to sort through lessons and hardships that could have been completely avoided if an open area for discussion was provided for me to express my concerns. When the topic of an area for discussion is brought up, many parents, guardians, and leaders in the workplace state one is provided, sadly, however, many overlook the fact that for a true area for discussion to be provided the aspect of comfortability must be present as well as the concept of listening. Although we as a society have a long ways to go, it excites me to see younger generations rising up seeking this openness, as I believe honest conversation has and will continue to have a direct effect on our relationships as individuals and our world as a society. As simple as it sounds, conversation gives me hope that the future will be better. Whether it be discussing social injustices, education, inclusivity, equal pay, representation, etc., conversation allows for the sharing of perspective, and in doing so, extends knowledge to others from a different point of view. Of course respect should always be a requirement in conversation, however, I adore the fearlessness of those coming up expressing their truths whether they are widely accepted or not. If you look back in history, the United States did not gain its independence from submitting to every aspect of Great Britain's demands. No. Generals, businessmen, and congressmen spoke about the injustices the country as a whole faced and strove to fix those issues. Civil rights leaders and activists such as Martin Luther King Jr. did not stand by and allow for the prejudices pressed on them to continue. No. They discussed, held speeches, and for the times they didn't wish to speak but still wanted to make a statement, they participated in silent marches and sit-ins. I am not defender of violence, as I believe such acts worsen a situation, but why should peaceful demonstrations such as these that open up conversation be stopped? Why should conversation be silenced? Yes, I do understand there is a time and a place for everything, but I appreciate that many see the need for transparent conversation to be now. We need to come together again, and in listening and conversing with one another we can bear one another's burdens, loving each other equally.

"To love is to listen. To listen is to love. If you truly love someone, you'll let them bend your ear." A few years back I received a phone call from my friend Shareen. Honestly, I thought she called me to complain about the latest English assignment, but when I answered her all I heard were gut-wrenching sobs. I knew she had struggled with anxiety and depression for a while, but I didn't know the severity of her situation. I simply said "Hello?" and her sobs calmed, slightly, but noticeably. I asked her if something was wrong, and she told me everything. Holding back tears myself, fearing that I would lose my closest friend while on the phone, it took me a minute to realize as I listened to her, her breath returned to a steady state, her cries subsided, and the sound of her pacing feet silenced. When she finished, I asked, "Do you want me to swing by your house? Bring you some food or something?" She replied with, "No, that's okay. I'm okay now. I knew it was late, so I was just hoping you'd pick up the phone. Thanks for letting me talk to you. I really appreciate it." After that, we said our goodbyes and hung up. The above quote is a saying I developed not long ago, and has become one of my life's mottos. The pandemic and self-isolation led to many developing anxiety, myself included, or for those already suffering, caused their anxiety to get worse. Considering I have a very busy home, I didn't feel that I could talk to anyone and I often kept my emotions in. I know if I had had someone to talk to, someone to LISTEN, I would have felt stronger and more secure within myself.

1. According to Oxford Languages, community is a group of people in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common, or a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals. To me, community is family, whether that be by blood, friendship, or neighborly relations. Being the eldest daughter, eldest sister, eldest granddaughter, and second eldest cousin, I'm very maternal over those close to me, especially my younger peers, therefore, giving back to my community often involves aiding the younger generation. Although I'm young myself according to societal standards, I've noticed how few role models are available to those coming up. I've always agreed with the quote, "Children are our future", so considering there will be a time when we as a society will need to lean on those now totting around, I want to impart any wisdom I have onto them. Contrary to popular belief, children are more intelligent, coherent, and understanding than they are given credit for. How do I know this? I perform one simple act many refuse to do, especially with those younger. Listen. In doing this actually, I learn more than I teach. Yes, I like giving back through doing good deeds and lending a hand, but I more so enjoy lending my time, as I see it has a more direct effect and change. 2. Being religious, I first define myself through my faith. It is the most important part of my life, although I make sure not to force my beliefs on anyone. Following in second, after my family of course, music is another important area. I'm known as "the music head", as I'm always singing, plucking on my guitar, or just randomly humming about the house. This interest, although discovered and seeded at the age of five, has continued to blossom, leading to my decision to major in music production, alongside my second major: biblical and theological studies, in college. Considering that I already write my own songs, having the ability to learn how to produce them and put them out in attempt to help others, whether it be to cope with familial hurt, church hurt, feeling alone, or in simply trying to find the Maker, is incredibly rewarding. My vision for the future is to take what I learn from school and continue to share music with those in need or those simply willing to hear my voice.

About four years ago, my family hit financial rock bottom. Not that we were doing great before, we were grossing just slightly above $42,000 a year, our living situation was made worse by my dad losing his job. Within a week, we were forced to move out of our apartment and into my grandmother's basement, all five of us and the dog. My parents tried their hardest to keep our lives as lively and operative as before, but again, this didn't last. On top of selling clothes to put food on the table, my parents started tapping into my siblings' and my savings. Around that time, I took singing lessons. I had saved for four years, whatever birthday or Christmas money I could scrape up, and when I could finally afford the $17 a week, I would walk to and from my lessons each Friday after school. One Thursday, however, after hopping off the bus from school, my parents sat me down and told me that they had taken my savings to pay two emergency bills and groceries for the week. Of course I understand now, but at the time, I was beyond upset. I remember thinking "How could they do this to me without even consulting me?" What topped it off was the fact that my siblings savings were left alone, strictly because my parents believed I would be the most understanding one and more likely to forgive. Sadly, although I've since moved on, I am still struggling financially from being forced the short end of the stick. I'm optimistic though. Because I plan to go on to receive a higher education, I have been taking the hardest classes I can and making sure to maintain A's in them, hoping that a solid transcript will aid in receiving more scholarships. I'm also applying to many scholarships and will be taking up a job as soon as I graduate, as my parents refused for me to work during the school year, to try to make up for some of what I lost. Later in life, when I decide to have children, I also plan to be financially stable enough so that they will not have to experience the same challenges I did.

"Olivia, hear me and hear me clear. Don't make the same mistakes your mother and I did. Only spend where necessary. Be better than us. I've known what it's like to struggle. Don't let that be you." My dad and I often have conversations concerning finances. Being low income, these conversations often include saving tips and advice in making food stretch. I understand I'm not alone in discussing this topic, especially now, but considering this conversation has been a weekly occurrence at dinner for the past seven years, the pressure to succeed and overcome is great. You see, from the age of ten I've been discussing grocery budgets, gas money, monthly rent, and the amount of clothing and home accessories needed to be sold to pay for these necessities. At least once a month, more so averaging twice, my parents would approach my siblings and me telling us to sort our clothing into two piles: absolutely necessary and "I don't know". Without fail, our "I don't know" piles were loaded into baskets and taken to the nearest resale store. Whatever profit we received payed for what my parents were struggling to at the time. As I've gotten older, my siblings and I have had to do that less now that we have the ability to work and can help our parents with our income, but the fear of slipping back into poverty again still stands present in my mind. My parents got into this back and forth, have and have not situation by doing everything my dad told me not to. Spending carelessly, not budgeting, etc. As upsetting as it is to say, I take my dad's advice to heart because I don't want to remain this way. I want to do more and plan to do so!

I was first introduced to Mitch Albom's work in my ninth grade Pre-AP English class. My teacher dedicated a whole month to studying "Tuesdays with Morrie", Albom's memoir discussing his relationship with his college professor. After falling in love with his writing style, I started looking into his other works and discovered "The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto". "The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto" is narrated by Music who weaves in and out of current day perspective and flashback. The novel describes the life of Frankie Presto, a guitar prodigy, from his dramatic and tumultuous birth, vigorous lessons, to his six most influential life experiences, marked by the blue hue in each string of his guitar. In addition to the plotline, "The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto" is my favorite book because of its lyricism. Albom wrote the novel to be read as a piece of fiction, but being a lover of music, and a guitarist myself, I read it more as a collection of sheet music. Each word compliments another, as if the words were notes coming into harmony. The movement of present day to flashback almost allows the reader to see these moments as different verses or codas, expressing the same story just using different words to emulate it. It's absolutely beautiful! I had often recommended this book to my musical peers, but recently I've been recommending it to whomever I come across that's looking for a good read. Since discovering this book, I have read and studied every one of Albom's works in addition to it! If you haven't picked it up, please give it a try!

In the many conversations I've been witness to over my seventeen years, one theme, no matter the topic, consistently arises. Perspective. Although this idea is not always verbally expressed, many refuse to allow themselves to believe another point of view can contain truth alongside theirs. If this question were to be surveyed and asked to three groups: 5-7, 30-40, and 50-70 years, the latter two groups' responses would likely regard monetary stability, while the prior might simply be to swing the highest on the local playground swing or to finally be able to reach the highest shelf's cabinet door. To me, the meaning of life is to see the world from a child's perspective again. Not to revert to immaturity, not to neglect our responsibilities, nor to seek our parents for sustenance, but to lack fear and possess such joy that nothing fazes us. To be able to laugh, run without the fear someone's chasing us, to love without condition. The sad thing about this idea is that many possess the opportunity to do this through raising their children. Of course I'm not stating to live vicariously through your child, but many parents are so quick to lecture they forget to observe the lessons their very children are teaching them! I try to achieve this perspective by doing just that. Watching and listening. Of course I do not have children, but I do have a younger sister and many younger cousins. Every chance I get, I listen to them and watch how they may perform a task different to me, yet still possess efficiency. I take what I learn from them and apply it as often as possible. I'm still learning, but I pray one day I will be able to see the world as a child again.

"I will trust in the Rock. I will trust in the Rock. I will trust in the Rock. Cause He's Jesus. All my hope is in the Rock. All my hope is in the Rock. All my hope is in the Rock. Cause He's Jesus. I'll find strength in the Rock. All my strength is in the Rock. All my strength is in the Rock. Cause He's Jesus." Being religious, Contemporary Christian, better known as CCM, and Gospel music have always moved me. My parents were the parents that refused for any song even remotely secular to be played in the house. Although they have relaxed these ideals, for the most part, CCM and Gospel continue to be the two primary genres they allow to be played. The above lyrics, seen in quotation marks, come from The Walls Group's "The Rock". Although this song was released in 2017, I only discovered it about a year ago. It has been my anthem ever since. This song speaks to having faith, and for those religious, placing it in a higher power. This message inspires me through humbling me. I am not God. I do nothing in my own strength. My hope comes from nowhere but His presence. These lyrics remind me, in the gentlest and most beautiful way, that my imperfections, weakness, and doubt are all normal and to be expected, but with God, there is peace, joy, and a promise that nothing is impossible (Matthew 19:26).

"Letters for Retirement Homes" is a program I started in the fall of 2020 during the thick of the coronavirus pandemic to give comfort and acknowledgement to retirement home residents, many of which are often forgotten. This program allowed for me to write letters and send cards to residents in retirement homes both in New York and Virginia, the latter of which I reside. Each month I, along with my school peers, would collect as many cards, letters, and messages as we could and place them in a makeshift "mailbox" located in my school's front office. At the end of each week, I would gather whatever goodies had been left. When there were enough cards to ensure that each resident at the participating retirements homes, Elderwood at Ticonderoga and Berkshire Health & Rehabilitation Center, would receive one, out of pocket, I would mail them out. It is a joy to say this operation continues to this day! Also, in addition to sending letters, I wanted to take the idea of comforting and acknowledging others to another level. Although difficult at times due to internet connection, via Zoom, I video chatted with Elderwood at Ticonderoga residents every Tuesday in attempt to brighten their spirits, as well as to receive any wisdom they wished to share with me. Each resident I spoke to had a different story, but never failed to show me love. Ms. Barbara, an 80 year old woman I grew to be very fond of, actually requested to speak to me often, as she would say "it was the highlight of her day". Although I started this program in attempt to help others, not thinking it would even get this far, it has truly helped me. I pray to continue this program for as long as possible!

1. Why wouldn't I deserve this scholarship? Shoot! I've done a fair amount. I'm poor, okay? That's why I deserve it. Spare change? Spare dollars, anyone?! 2. Honestly, I'll probably end up dropping out. If I'm awarded this scholarship, I'll just use the money on clothes or something. You know what? I deserve a break. Maybe I'll take a vacation. 3. Recently, I overcame a great feat. I finally figured out Among Us! Do I still suck? Sure. But do I understand the game? Darn skippy! I'm only on it for like nine hours a day, so, it's not like I'm "obsessed" or anything.