“Try not to disturb the intertidal creatures” a voice boomed down at me from my spot crouched on the rough barnacle-ridden rocks and glistening gray pebbles of the island’s estuary, knees and forearms undoubtedly wet from contact with the gentle tidal waves. Glancing down upon my creation: a walled microcosm of the beach’s intertidal zone, with anemones, starfish, barnacles, and the absolute maximum number of juvenile crabs I could fit within the miniature fortified valley. At least once every summer of my childhood, my parents, both biologists by passion and concern, took me and my siblings to the wildlife preserve, Indian Island, along with additional natural landscapes, in an attempt to instill in us an appreciation for the great outdoors. From intertidal pool examination, salmon spawning observation, chanterelle picking, and National Park exploration, I steadily became fascinated with the natural world around me. Though, upon my development, I began to overhear and experience first-hand the very real-life effects of human residence within our natural environment. Suddenly starfish disappeared altogether, crab varieties decreased, and the salmon populations fluctuated. Having been raised in a small rural location, like that of Orcas Island, with the marine ecosystem only a short distance away, I fostered a heightened sense of justice toward our oceans. Though, as my concern for our marine environment swelled, so did my concern over my sexuality and gender. As a young lesbian growing up in a small rural town. I have felt isolated and othered. It is frequently difficult to be a queer individual in a heteronormative environment, but I would not give it up for all the feelings of normality thought to be possible. Through my discovery and acceptance of my queerness, I have grown so much as an individual and will continue to as I age. Diversity, not merely in opinion, but in experience and identity, is needed in all fields of study, from neuroscience to oceanic studies. I would be an ideal candidate for this scholarship, not merely due to my proximity to the ocean, prompting me to persevere through a life of marine stewardship for the health of our oceans, but also for my heightened empathy towards all living organisms. This scholarship would be an immense help in paying for a fraction of my expenses at Western Washington University where I plan on majoring in environmental science to further findings of studies related to oceanic health, and inform others about their impact on climate change. I intend to spend a lifetime protecting our oceans and the local oceanic communities and ecosystems I grew up in through research and other stewardship endeavors. I pledge to continue to fight for the health of our oceans not merely for our wellness, but for that of the millions upon billions of species’ making their home within our waters. For it takes a feeling of connection towards our ecosystems, be that oceanic or not, to encourage change.

“Try not to disturb the intertidal creatures” a voice boomed down at me from my spot crouched on the rough barnacle-ridden rocks and glistening gray pebbles of the island’s estuary, knees and forearms undoubtedly wet from contact with the gentle tidal waves. Glancing down upon my creation: a walled microcosm of the beach’s intertidal zone, with anemones, starfish, barnacles, and the absolute maximum number of juvenile crabs I could fit within the miniature fortified valley. At least once every summer of my childhood, my parents, both biologists by passion and concern, took me and my siblings to the wildlife preserve, Indian Island, along with additional natural landscapes, in an attempt to instill in us an appreciation for the great outdoors. From intertidal pool examination, salmon spawning observation, chanterelle picking, and National Park exploration, I steadily became fascinated with the natural world around me. Though, upon my development, I began to overhear, and experience first-hand the very real-life effects of human residence within our natural environment. Suddenly starfish disappeared altogether, crab varieties decreased, and the salmon populations fluctuated. Living so close to the pacific northwestern marine ecosystem, I could not ignore the obvious anthropogenic environmental problems of our very backyard, in the name of modernity and convenience. My relationship with our natural world, having grown up within it, contributed to my resistance in the face of mass negligence for the sake of convenience and the flawed notion that “one person can’t make a difference.” I knew I needed to take part in the fight for the protection of our natural ecosystems, therefore I joined my high school’s environmental club, which I later ran as president, advocating for the limitation of food waste in my local community and state and national legislation, such as the WRAP Act. Furthermore, I pushed myself to apprentice for my local research-based nonprofit Kwiat, which had me assist in anything from stream sainings to Gel Electrophoresis usage identifying organisms in bat guano. My appreciation for the Pacific Northwestern ecosystems has only grown from my days squatting on barnacle-ridden rocks; I remain dedicated to protecting them, as they housed, nurtured, and comforted me throughout my childhood. Through pursuing environmental studies I plan to give back to this patient atmosphere in which I reside. Environmental studies are in my opinion one of the most, currently, impactful majors out there, made up of impassioned students looking to improve their world, not merely for themselves and their communities, but for the health and balanced coexistence of all living organisms, no matter their perceived worth. I plan to become one of many advocates, researchers, intellectuals, and concerned individuals that make up the base of environmental studies students. I intend to aid others in the restoration of crucial ecosystems, and in proposing local or even national solutions to the climate crisis through observation and data collection. I must endure for the sake of the planet, for the sake of myself for the sake of those same anemones, starfish, barnacles, and juvenile crabs of Indian Island. We must all present a brave face amid the midst of damaging anthropogenic activities, and resist their abrasion of our cherished natural ecosystems.