“Mr. Dommert, a baby bird fell outta it’s nest. Get your daughter.” When my dad entered my room and told me one of our neighbors had swung by our house to enlist my help rather than his, it genuinely surprised me. I hadn’t realized, in all my years of running around this neighborhood and helping the animals I came across, that the people around had taken the time to notice. I grew up shouting “Is this your dog, sir?” and “Can’t we trap the bug instead of kill it?” and it took me a long time to realize how special that was. My community now associated my acts of kindness with my person, and I was honored to be seen as the best part of myself in such a way. I sprang out of my bed and grabbed whatever shoes were nearest (no, they didn’t match), racing out the door to where the neighbor was pointing. The bird was old enough to fly, so my help wasn’t necessary, but what makes this story memorable is just that: even if I’m not needed, my community knows I will rush to nature’s aid, and they know they can call on me. I take a lot of pride in that. I want to keep that reputation no matter where I end up in life, whether it be a rural community or a large city. I want to be that person who can help when people’s beloved pets are in pain, and I could do that as a veterinarian. As a technician at a vet clinic, my favorite part of my job is being able to see the smiles on people’s faces when they look at their fur baby, and to bring that smile out by helping their animal is a privilege I never want to give up. This job at a vet clinic has also taught me how valuable my relationships with the people I work with are. Every veterinary technician I work with is so passionate about their job and down to earth, and I truly believe that they are some of the most genuine people I know. If all veterinary technicians are half as kindhearted as they are, I would be overjoyed to work alongside them for the rest of my life. Not only that, I believe there is undiscovered innovation in the veterinary field that I would love to explore. There’s so much we have yet to learn about the bodies of animals and how different treatments could be more beneficial to them, and I want to spend the rest of my life learning about it. I especially believe in the future of 3D printing in the veterinary field in regards to things like prosthetics. I have spent some time researching the potential of these technologies and I have high hopes for what it could do in the future. Veterinarans are such a valuable part of every community and are often the foundations holding up scientific advancement. I am overwhelmingly grateful that I am blessed enough to have the opportunity to become one someday, because I wholeheartedly believe that it will feed and nurture my soul for my entire career.

“Mr. Dommert, a baby bird fell outta it’s nest. Get your daughter.” When my dad entered my room and told me one of our neighbors had swung by our house to enlist my help rather than his, it genuinely surprised me. I hadn’t realized, in all my years of running around this neighborhood and helping the animals I came across, that the people around had taken the time to notice. I grew up shouting “Is this your dog, sir?” and “Can’t we trap the bug instead of kill it?” and it took me a long time to realize how special that was. My community now associated my acts of kindness with my person, and I was honored to be seen as the best part of myself in such a way. I sprang out of my bed and grabbed whatever shoes were nearest (no, they didn’t match), racing out the door to where the neighbor was pointing. The bird was old enough to fly, so my help wasn’t necessary, but what makes this story memorable is just that: even if I’m not needed, my community knows I will rush to nature’s aid, and they know they can call on me. I take a lot of pride in that. I want to keep that reputation no matter where I end up in life, whether it be a rural community or a large city. I want to be that person who can help when people’s beloved pets are in pain, and I could do that as a veterinary technician. As a tech shadow at a vet clinic, my favorite part of my job is being able to see the smiles on people’s faces when they look at their fur baby, and to bring that smile out by helping their animal is a privilege I never want to give up. Not only that, I believe there is undiscovered innovation in the veterinary field that I would love to explore. There’s so much we have yet to learn about the bodies of animals and how different treatments could be more beneficial to them, and I want to spend the rest of my life learning about it. I especially believe in the future of 3D printing in the veterinary field in regards to things like prosthetics. I have spent some time researching the potential of these technologies and I have high hopes for what it could do in the future. I am fully aware of how brutally difficult it will be to make it in the veterinary field. It is wildly competitive, and there are many days when it feels like I'm not qualified to pursue the career I want so badly. But, as the stray dogs of my neighborhood learned when I was growing up, I am not a quitter. I will continue to pick myself up, brush the dirt off my knees, and keep going, no matter what it takes. I owe it to my current community, and to the one I will love when I am older.

When you’re eight years old and the youngest of four kids, all you really want is to be better than your siblings at something. For most of my childhood, I simply followed in the footsteps of what my siblings liked, but there was a small part of me that felt an affinity for artists. I taught myself entirely how to draw based on things like fanart and my favorite TV shows, and by the time I was a teenager, it was such a huge part of my life that I didn't go a day without picking up my sketchbook or iPad to draw. I remember very vividly the day I joined an online forum full of artists with similar interests to me, excited and ready to share my art with like-minded people. I remember it because, when I shared my art, I was immediately criticized by people who, in my eyes, had much better art than I did. Unsurprisingly, I lost a lot of the confidence in my drawings that I had built up over the years. The necks were too thick, the poses too static - there was always something wrong, in my eyes. However, I still felt obligated to build the confidence of the other artists I was in forums with. I made a point to compliment every art piece I saw, and eventually earned myself a reputation. People smiled when they saw me typing; I made people happy. That joy, that excitement; that was what I picked up a pencil for in the first place. As I got older, I saw it as absolutely mandatory to conserve that feeling for other people, so I kept reassuring artists, especially those younger than me. I never want anyone to feel that same anxiety and insecurity about their art that I did. That doesn't just go for online, either. My theatre department at my high school contains many students who don't feel like they truly fit in here, but they use art as an outlet in the same way I did. By using that as a gateway to communicate with these students, I'm able to bring them into a place where they finally feel welcomed. As an area award winner in an ensemble, I still see the joy I've brought to nervous kids as my greatest achievement in theatre. I am lucky enough to have been blessed with a family that has enough income to send me to college, but not without personal anxiety regarding tuition. When my father was laid off from his job during COVID, I experienced heavy financial anxiety that I don't think has ever really decayed. With this scholarship, not only would I be able to relieve my parents of a bit of stress, but I would be able to take my career further and, with any luck, continue to influence young artists and people in my community for the better.