Making a positive impact on the world has always been a driving force in my life. Through my chosen field of business management, I aim to tackle issues that affect both organizations and the communities they serve. Business management isn’t just about profitability; it’s about building sustainable, ethical businesses that contribute to the greater good. I believe that with effective leadership, strategy, and vision, businesses have the potential to drive positive change, foster economic growth, and improve the quality of life for people across the globe. In business management, there are countless ways to make a meaningful difference. One of my main goals is to work on creating business models that prioritize corporate social responsibility (CSR), focusing on sustainable practices that protect the environment and promote social equity. Another path I’m interested in is enhancing organizational efficiency while ensuring fair treatment and opportunities for all employees. My belief is that a well-managed business can thrive economically while upholding ethical standards and supporting the well-being of its workers, customers, and the community. Whether working with startups, large corporations, or social enterprises, I am passionate about finding ways to align profit with positive social impact. One of the most rewarding aspects of working in business management is the ability to influence both micro and macro-level change. Through efficient operations or innovative business strategies, I can help companies grow and make a real difference in the lives of their employees and customers. For example, by guiding businesses to adopt more sustainable practices in production or advocating for diversity and inclusion in the workplace, I would directly impact people’s lives and contribute to a broader social shift toward more ethical business practices. This scholarship would be instrumental in helping me achieve these goals. It would provide the financial support I need to pursue my education in business management, alleviating the pressure of tuition costs and allowing me to fully focus on my studies. Additionally, this scholarship would open doors to valuable opportunities such as internships, networking events, and mentorship programs. These experiences would allow me to gain hands-on knowledge and build meaningful connections with industry professionals who share my vision for socially responsible business practices. Reflecting on how my work will pay tribute to the memory of Owen, I feel inspired by his legacy and values. Owen was someone who deeply cared about fairness, equality, and service. His commitment to empowering others and fostering positive change resonates deeply with my own values as an aspiring business leader. Owen’s dedication to making the world a better place was not just through words but through his actions. I want to honor his memory by incorporating these same principles into my work. To honor Owen, I will approach my career with a dedication to ethical leadership and community impact. Whether advocating for sustainable business practices or promoting diversity in corporate cultures, I aim to lead with compassion, fairness, and integrity, following the example Owen set. In conclusion, my goal is to use business management as a tool to create organizations that are both profitable and socially responsible. This scholarship will provide the resources, knowledge, and opportunities I need to bring this vision to life, while also honoring Owen’s legacy of service, fairness, and empowerment.

My name is Ricky Chen, and I am a survivor of sepsis. My experience began in early 2022 and was, without a doubt, one of the most frightening and life-altering experiences I have ever gone through. At the time, I was 11 years old and generally healthy. I had no idea that something as seemingly minor as a urinary tract infection could spiral into a life-threatening condition. I first noticed symptoms of what I thought was just a typical infection—burning during urination, fatigue, and some discomfort in my lower abdomen. I figured I could manage it at home with rest and fluids, and if it got worse, I’d see a doctor in a few days. But things changed rapidly. Within two days, I developed a high fever, chills, and muscle aches. I was disoriented, couldn’t keep food or water down, and started experiencing shortness of breath. My heart was racing, and my skin began to feel clammy. I knew something wasn’t right, and fortunately, a close friend insisted on taking me to the emergency room. By the time we arrived at the hospital, I was in septic shock. I don’t remember much from that moment forward—I was rushed into intensive care, where doctors started me on IV fluids, broad-spectrum antibiotics, and oxygen. My blood pressure was dangerously low, and my organs were beginning to shut down. The medical team acted fast, and they later told me that if I had waited even a few more hours, I might not have survived. I spent five days in the ICU and another week in a general hospital room. The physical pain was intense, but what really surprised me was how long the recovery took after I got home. I thought that once I left the hospital, I’d be back to normal in a few weeks. Instead, I dealt with extreme fatigue, brain fog, mood swings, and even memory problems for months afterward. I later learned this is known as post-sepsis syndrome—a collection of physical and psychological aftereffects that many survivors experience. Emotionally, the experience shook me to my core. I became much more aware of my body and cautious about infections. The thought that something so common could become so dangerous still haunts me sometimes. But over time, I’ve also grown stronger. I’ve learned to advocate for myself in medical settings, to ask questions, and to speak up when something doesn’t feel right. Since recovering, I’ve become passionate about raising awareness of sepsis. Too many people don’t know the signs or how fast it can progress. Sepsis kills hundreds of thousands of people each year, yet it's still not widely understood. I now share my story in hopes that it can help others recognize the symptoms early—like fever, confusion, rapid heart rate, and difficulty breathing—and seek medical help right away. I’m incredibly grateful to be alive. Surviving sepsis has given me a new perspective on life, and I hope my experience can help others stay informed, proactive, and safe.

Living with epilepsy has been one of the most challenging yet transformative experiences of my life. What once felt like a limitation has become a source of strength, resilience, and purpose. Epilepsy has taught me to navigate uncertainty with grace, to advocate for myself and others, and to appreciate the beauty of life in its most unpredictable moments. I was diagnosed with epilepsy at the age of thirteen after experiencing a series of unexplained seizures. At first, I felt isolated and afraid. The unpredictability of my condition made me question my future—would I be able to go to college, drive a car, or live independently? These fears were overwhelming, but they also ignited a determination in me to not let epilepsy define my life. Over time, I learned to manage my condition through medication, lifestyle adjustments, and a strong support system. But more importantly, I learned to embrace my diagnosis as part of who I am—not something to hide or be ashamed of. Epilepsy empowered me to become more empathetic, more aware of invisible struggles, and more committed to creating a world that is inclusive and understanding. One of the most profound ways epilepsy has changed my perspective is by teaching me to live in the present. When you live with a condition that can disrupt your day at any moment, you learn to savor the good days and find strength in the tough ones. I’ve developed a deeper appreciation for small victories—whether it’s completing a school project, attending a social event without anxiety, or simply waking up feeling well. These moments remind me that progress isn’t always linear, and that resilience is built one step at a time. Epilepsy has also inspired me to become an advocate. I’ve volunteered with local health organizations to raise awareness about neurological conditions and have spoken at school events to educate others about epilepsy. These experiences have shown me the power of storytelling and the importance of representation. I want others living with epilepsy to know they are not alone, and that their voices matter. As I pursue my education, this scholarship would be a vital stepping stone toward achieving my goals. I plan to study neuroscience and psychology, with the hope of contributing to research that improves the lives of people with epilepsy and other neurological disorders. My dream is to work in a clinical setting where I can support patients not just medically, but emotionally—helping them navigate the complexities of their conditions with compassion and clarity. This scholarship would not only alleviate financial burdens but also affirm that my journey matters. It would allow me to focus more fully on my studies, participate in research opportunities, and continue my advocacy work. I see education as a tool for empowerment, and I am committed to using it to make a meaningful impact.

I’ve always felt that my story isn’t a fairy tale. It’s more like a collection of small moments—moments of struggle, resilience, and growth. Growing up in New York City, public school was my battleground. It wasn’t always easy, but it was always real, and it taught me more than any textbook ever could. From the start, I knew my family didn’t have the luxury of a smooth ride. We didn’t live in the fanciest neighborhood or have a ton of extra money, but we had each other. My parents worked hard to provide, and that hard work was something I always admired. It wasn’t until later, though, that I realized how much I was expected to carry with me as I moved through the public school system. The overcrowded classrooms, the lack of resources, and the constant pressure to do more with less often felt overwhelming. I can’t tell you how many times I doubted myself, wondering if I was smart enough or capable enough to succeed. But somewhere deep down, I knew I had to keep going. I watched my parents work themselves to the bone, making sure I had every chance I could get. I couldn’t let that effort go to waste, and so I kept pushing. I’ll be honest—there were plenty of days when I felt like quitting. When I didn’t understand the material or when the weight of everything felt too heavy, I questioned whether I was cut out for this. But I always found something to keep me moving. Whether it was staying late to ask teachers for help or talking to friends who had my back, I learned that resilience wasn’t just about bouncing back from failure—it was about finding the strength to keep going, even when things weren’t easy. The biggest lesson I learned in those years was that education isn’t just about grades or tests. It’s about persistence, about finding your voice, and about realizing that no matter where you come from, you can shape your own future. I learned that failure is part of the process—it doesn’t define you unless you let it. And I learned that asking for help doesn’t make you weak; it makes you stronger. There were times when I had to lean on my teachers, family, and friends to push through, and I’m grateful for each of those moments. What keeps me going now is a vision of what’s possible. I’m not just doing this for me. I’m doing it for the people who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I want to prove that hard work, determination, and grit matter more than where you start. Education is my way out of the cycle of struggle, and I know that it can give me the tools to create a life that’s better than the one I was born into.