Growing up, I was raised in a Christian household where every Sunday I’d put on my best dress and attend church with my family. I tried to be the perfect little Christian girl, but in the back of my mind, something always felt off, as if I didn’t quite belong. I practiced faith because it was what my family did, not because I truly understood or believed in it. But as I grew older, something inside me felt off, like I was just going through the motions without understanding why. My faith was something I inherited, something I accepted without question, and in many ways, it didn’t feel like my own. It wasn’t until I met Maysoon, my dad’s girlfriend, that I began to explore spirituality in a deeper, more personal way. Maysoon was different from anyone I had ever known she was strong, confident, and endlessly kind. She made time for my little sister and me, showing up to our games, cheering us on at school events, and becoming a supportive, steady presence in our lives. As I got to know her, I learned that she was Muslim, and while I was familiar with the existence of other religions, I had never truly considered them as more than abstract concepts. Yet, Maysoon wasn’t just another person of a different faith; she was a person I respected and admired. As our relationship grew, she shared her beliefs with me, guiding me gently through the foundations of Islam and explaining how it shaped her life. She introduced me to her way of praying and even gifted me a Quran with an English translation. Together, we’d read and discuss it, and through these moments, I started to understand faith as something that could be deeply personal and meaningful. She taught me that spirituality didn’t have to feel obligatory but could be a journey of understanding, growth, and connection. Maysoon’s influence opened my heart, and through her, I began to redefine my own beliefs and values. Recently, as the Israel-Palestine conflict has intensified, I find myself grappling with a deeper sense of grief and helplessness. I watch Maysoon speak with a heavy heart about Gaza, and for the first time, I see these global issues as more than distant events. The conflict is no longer just “news”; it involves real people, families, and friends, people like Maysoon who simply want peace. My connection with Maysoon has given me a deeper appreciation of the shared human experience, and I now realize how essential it is to listen, to try to understand others even when they seem different from us. Maysoon’s influence has shaped who I am in ways I couldn’t have imagined. She has taught me that identity is not just about where we come from but about who we choose to become. As I prepare to step into the next phase of my life, I carry with me the lessons Maysoon taught me. I’ve learned that strength isn’t about having all the answers but being willing to ask questions and seek understanding. My perspective on faith, identity, and even global issues has transformed because of her. This journey of self-discovery has transformed my perspective on faith, identity, and global issues. My relationship with Maysoon is a part of me that I cannot imagine leaving out, as it has taught me the importance of kindness and understanding. I hope to carry this approach with me into college and beyond, creating spaces where people from all walks of life feel seen, heard, and valued.

My name is Piper McGuire, and I am a senior at Centennial High School in Frisco, Texas. Throughout my high school years, I have been deeply involved in both academics and extracurriculars serving in the National Honor Society, playing in the marching band, and co-founding Project Pink, a club dedicated to supporting women’s mental health through volunteer work and food drives. As I prepare to graduate, I plan to attend the University of Minnesota Twin Cities, where I hope to double major in Architecture and Business. My goal is to one day open my own architecture firm that not only designs buildings but also creates spaces that promote wellness, inclusion, and balance. Over the course of high school, I’ve learned that mental health is not just about handling stress or staying positive it’s about self-awareness, compassion, and balance. Like most teenagers, I experienced moments of pressure, from managing heavy academic workloads to juggling extracurricular responsibilities and college applications. In those times, I began to recognize how crucial it was to pause, reflect, and reach out for support when needed. Through Project Pink, I also witnessed how powerful it can be when people come together to talk openly about their struggles. Organizing meetings, fundraisers, and awareness campaigns taught me that breaking the stigma around mental health starts with simple conversations and genuine empathy. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that taking care of others begins with taking care of yourself. In a world that glorifies being constantly busy, I’ve realized that rest and boundaries are not signs of weakness—they’re forms of strength. Whether it was balancing band rehearsals that lasted late into the night or preparing for AP exams, I had to learn to manage my time and emotions realistically. I discovered that asking for help from teachers, friends, or counselors isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s a way of showing respect for your own growth and mental well-being. As I move forward into college, I plan to carry these lessons with me. Architecture is a field that demands both creativity and precision, often under tight deadlines. Maintaining mental balance will be key not just for success, but for sustaining passion. I also want to continue advocating for mental health awareness on campus, perhaps by joining or starting organizations that promote emotional wellness and community support. I believe that healthy environments both physical and emotional shape the way people live and connect. As someone who dreams of designing spaces that foster comfort and inspiration, I hope to integrate my understanding of mental health into my future designs. Ultimately, high school taught me that mental health is not a destination but a lifelong process of learning, healing, and adapting. By prioritizing it in both my personal life and professional goals, I hope to build not only stronger communities, but also a more compassionate and mindful world.

As a Muslim student, my background has played a powerful role in shaping both my educational path and the values that guide me toward my future. Growing up in a family that prioritized faith, resilience, and community, I’ve learned to approach every challenge and opportunity with a sense of purpose that goes beyond personal success. My identity as a Muslim is not just a part of who I am, it’s the lens through which I see my goals, my responsibilities, and the change I hope to bring into the world. My educational journey has not been without obstacles. Navigating school environments where my identity sometimes made me feel different taught me how important it is to be both confident and compassionate. Whether it was finding space to pray during school hours, fasting during exams in Ramadan, or explaining parts of my culture to classmates, these experiences pushed me to advocate for myself and others in respectful, informed ways. They also made me more determined to succeed; not only for myself, but for the younger students who might one day walk the same path. Islam has instilled in me the importance of seeking knowledge, which is considered a form of worship. The Prophet Muhammad emphasized that the pursuit of education is a duty for every Muslim, and I carry that teaching with me in every classroom. It has motivated me to aim high academically while remembering that the goal of learning is not just to gain status or wealth, but to use what I learn to benefit others. That’s why I hope to pursue a career that blends my academic interests with service to my community perhaps in architecture, where I can design inclusive spaces that serve people from all walks of life, or in education, where I can support more equitable opportunities for underserved youth. Looking ahead, my goal is not just to “make it,” but to help others make it too. I know firsthand how valuable it is to have mentors and role models who understand your background, who remind you that your faith and dreams can coexist. That’s why I plan to give back through mentorship, tutoring, and creating programs that make higher education more accessible to Muslim youth and other marginalized students. I also hope to help build environments both physically and socially that are more welcoming to diverse identities, starting with my future university and eventually expanding to larger projects. Paying it forward, to me, means making it easier for the next generation to succeed without feeling like they have to give up pieces of who they are. It means helping young Muslims believe that they can be doctors, engineers, artists, leaders. Anything they aspire to, while staying true to their values. My faith teaches me that giving back is a duty, not an option, and I hope to honor that through every step of my journey. Insha’Allah, with hard work, faith, and the support of my community, I’ll be able to open doors for others just like those who opened them for me.

Wrestling is one of the most physically demanding sports, and it’s even more challenging when you’re a girl stepping onto the mat in a sport still dominated by boys. From the moment I joined the wrestling team, I knew I wasn’t just competing for points. I was proving something much bigger. Wrestling has shaped me into a stronger, more determined young woman, not only because of the sweat and sacrifice it demands, but because of what it has taught me about resilience, respect, and self-worth in a world where women are often underestimated. Balancing wrestling, school, and my personal life is no easy task. Practices are long and grueling, often pushing me past my comfort zone both physically and mentally. Add to that the weight of keeping up with homework, exams, and responsibilities at home, and there were times when I questioned if I could handle it all. But every challenge forced me to grow. I learned how to manage my time, prioritize my goals, and push through exhaustion when giving up would have been easier. Wrestling didn’t just train my body, it trained my discipline and confidence. Being a girl in wrestling means facing assumptions. People often think I’m “too small” or “not strong enough” to compete. I've heard comments that suggest I don’t belong on the mat. But every match I win, every takedown I land, and every time I rise after being pinned, I prove those assumptions wrong. Wrestling has taught me that strength is not just physical but mental and emotional. It’s showing up, day after day, even when you’re the only girl in the room. It’s learning to take up space unapologetically. What’s most empowering about wrestling is the way it has shifted how I view myself. I’m no longer afraid to speak up, to lead, or to stand firm in who I am. Wrestling has given me a sense of self-worth that no one can take away. It has reminded me that I am not defined by how others see me, but by how I choose to rise in the face of doubt. In a world that still often tells women to shrink themselves, wrestling has taught me to take up space with pride. I don’t just wrestle for myself, I wrestle for every girl who’s been told she can’t. Wrestling has made me tougher, yes, but more importantly, it has made me fearless. It has helped me find my voice, build my grit, and walk with confidence into any room, knowing that I’ve already conquered things most people wouldn’t dare try. Through wrestling, I have become more than just a stronger athlete. I’ve become a stronger woman, one who refuses to be held back by outdated expectations, and who will keep fighting for her place on the mat and in the world.

Growing up in Texas, where the horizon stretches wide and the seasons swing between extremes, I’ve always been fascinated by how we shape and respond to the land around us. From the trees lining our sidewalks to the open community parks and water-wise native gardens, I began to notice the quiet yet powerful relationship between natural spaces and human well-being. As I prepare to pursue a major in architecture, I carry with me a deep respect for the landscape industry and a commitment to integrating sustainable, thoughtful design into every project I take on. Architecture has long been my passion because it allows for a unique combination of creativity, science, and social impact. I am especially drawn to the ways in which architecture and landscape architecture intersect, how structures, green spaces, and natural ecosystems can support each other to form more resilient, livable communities. I believe the future of design lies in this intersection, and I want to be part of the generation of architects that embraces green infrastructure, native planting, and regenerative landscape practices as standard, not optional. In the coming years, I plan to make a meaningful difference by designing spaces that respect and restore the natural environment. Whether it’s a school campus, urban plaza, or housing development, my goal is to create places where people feel connected to each other and to nature. That means designing with native plants that are drought-tolerant and pollinator-friendly, using sustainable materials, and integrating stormwater management into the landscape in ways that are both functional and beautiful. I want to be the kind of architect who not only builds structures but also contributes to healthier soils, cleaner air, and stronger communities. What excites me most about the green industry is that it’s not just about aesthetics—it’s about stewardship. It’s about being mindful of how every tree planted, every garden maintained, and every landscape designed plays a role in our collective future. That kind of long-term thinking is rare in our fast-paced world, and I admire the patience, expertise, and care that professionals in this field bring to their work. I want to be part of that legacy. Receiving the Jay Curry Eternal Garden Scholarship would be an honor and a vital step in helping me reach these goals. It would support not just my education, but my mission: to become an architect who listens to the land, collaborates with the landscape industry, and advocates for sustainable design practices that serve both people and planet. I believe this scholarship would help me grow not only in knowledge but in purpose and I look forward to giving back to the green industry that continues to inspire me.

Growing up in Texas, where the horizon stretches wide and the seasons swing between extremes, I’ve always been fascinated by how we shape and respond to the land around us. From the trees lining our sidewalks to the open community parks and water-wise native gardens, I began to notice the quiet yet powerful relationship between natural spaces and human well-being. As I prepare to pursue a major in architecture, I carry with me a deep respect for the landscape industry and a commitment to integrating sustainable, thoughtful design into every project I take on. Architecture has long been my passion because it allows for a unique combination of creativity, science, and social impact. I am especially drawn to the ways in which architecture and landscape architecture intersect, how structures, green spaces, and natural ecosystems can support each other to form more resilient, livable communities. I believe the future of design lies in this intersection, and I want to be part of the generation of architects that embraces green infrastructure, native planting, and regenerative landscape practices as standard, not optional. In the coming years, I plan to make a meaningful difference by designing spaces that respect and restore the natural environment. Whether it’s a school campus, urban plaza, or housing development, my goal is to create places where people feel connected to each other and to nature. That means designing with native plants that are drought-tolerant and pollinator-friendly, using sustainable materials, and integrating stormwater management into the landscape in ways that are both functional and beautiful. I want to be the kind of architect who not only builds structures but also contributes to healthier soils, cleaner air, and stronger communities. What excites me most about the green industry is that it’s not just about aesthetics—it’s about stewardship. It’s about being mindful of how every tree planted, every garden maintained, and every landscape designed plays a role in our collective future. That kind of long-term thinking is rare in our fast-paced world, and I admire the patience, expertise, and care that professionals in this field bring to their work. I want to be part of that legacy. Receiving the Ray W. Bausick Green Industry Memorial Scholarship would be an honor and a vital step in helping me reach these goals. It would support not just my education, but my mission: to become an architect who listens to the land, collaborates with the landscape industry, and advocates for sustainable design practices that serve both people and planet. I believe this scholarship would help me grow not only in knowledge but in purpose and I look forward to giving back to the green industry that continues to inspire me.