Helping kids in need is something both valuable and heartbreaking. At the church I attend, there’s a foundation dedicated to caring for children whose parents cannot support them or, tragically, have abandoned them. Many of these children suffer from trauma, depression, and anger issues rooted in painful pasts. Being around them, you can feel the weight of their emotional struggles, making the experience deeply humbling. One day, my classmates and I visited the foundation to help with a group of babies who had recently arrived. As we played with them and tried to make them feel safe, the staff shared the children’s stories with us. Some were left in hospitals, others were victims of abuse or neglect. Hearing those stories was difficult—no child should ever go through what they’ve experienced. But what struck me most was their strength. Despite everything, some of them still smiled, still reached out for comfort, still laughed at silly faces we made. That resilience moved me deeply. It wasn’t always easy. Some of the older children had developed strong defense mechanisms and pushed others away with anger or silence. I quickly learned that helping them wasn’t just about bringing toys or food, it was about patience, empathy, and simply being present. It required understanding that behind every difficult behavior was a history of pain that needed compassion, not judgment. Because at the end of the day, they are humans like us, who feel and also need love. Those kids need more understanding than anyone in this world, It’s sad to see all the horrible things some of them have experienced. That experience has shaped how I see service and responsibility. It’s not enough to feel sorry for others—we have to act with intention and care. I hope to use my education and future career to continue supporting children in vulnerable situations. Whether it’s through advocacy, building platforms to tell their stories, or creating initiatives that provide resources and emotional support, I want to be a voice for those who have been silenced. These children may have come from broken places, but they are not broken. They deserve love, healing, and a chance at a future filled with hope. Being a part of even a small step in their journey is one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever done. It is a heartwarming experience I would recommend doing to anyone. When helping others, our hearts feel better when giving a hand to the people who need it.

When I was a little girl, I remember helping my classmates understand the lessons at school. I didn’t do it for recognition—I did it because I loved seeing that moment when someone finally understood something they thought was impossible. That small feeling of accomplishment, of lighting someone else’s path, is what I want to carry with me forever. As I’ve grown, I’ve realized that knowledge is powerful, but sharing it is what creates real change. I plan to use my education to become a marketing professional—not just to build a career, but to give back to the people and the community that raised me. Marketing is more than just selling a product—it’s about telling stories, changing perspectives, and inspiring action. Through this, I want to create campaigns that bring attention to important social causes, support local businesses, and encourage young people in underprivileged areas to believe in their potential. In my community, many talented and hardworking individuals have never had access to proper education or resources. I want to be a voice for them. One of my biggest goals is to return home and start initiatives that provide young people with workshops and mentorship programs in communication, digital literacy, and entrepreneurship. By teaching them the power of storytelling, branding, and innovation, I want to help them discover their own paths and build something of their own—whether it’s a small business, a nonprofit, or a personal brand that uplifts others. But my impact doesn’t stop there. As a first-generation student, I know the emotional and financial struggles that come with chasing a dream without a safety net. I want to advocate for educational opportunities in low-income communities. I plan to partner with organizations that provide scholarships and resources to students like me, helping them believe that college is not just a dream, but a real and reachable goal. My education is the tool I will use to break the cycle of limitation. Every class I take, every project I complete, and every skill I gain will be in service of a bigger purpose: to empower others to rise with me. I believe that success is not success unless it is shared, and I want my journey to be a testimony of what’s possible when someone decides to not give up. I will never forget where I came from, and I carry my community in everything I do. My mission is clear: to inspire, to uplift, and to make sure no one around me feels unseen, unheard, or unworthy of chasing their dreams. My education is my way of opening the door—and leaving it open for others to walk through after me.

One of the most defining moments of my life happened when I was seriously ill with dengue. I was caught between life and death, physically weak, emotionally drained, and unsure of what would happen next. During that time, my mother never left my side. She stayed with me day and night, watching over me, making sure I was comfortable, praying, and holding my hand through the pain. I could see the worry in her eyes, but she never let me feel it. She stayed strong for me. She smiled when I needed reassurance, whispered hope when I needed comfort, and showed me what true love looks like. She was my rock in the middle of that storm—my guidance, my strength, and my helper. My mom has always been more than just a parent. She has been both a mother and a father to me, especially since my dad decided to walk away and turn his back on me. From a very young age, I’ve seen her work hard to give me a better life. She grew up in the countryside of the Dominican Republic and, through her own determination and resilience, managed to move to the city and build a life for us. She never had the opportunity to get a proper education or live out her own dreams, but she never let that stop her from fighting for mine. I know that if she had the resources, she would make every single one of my dreams come true. If it were up to her, I’d already be studying at one of the best universities in the world. However, our financial situation makes it difficult. We live humbly, and while we are grateful for everything we have, the truth is that we can’t afford the kind of education I’ve always dreamed of. Being a first-generation student is a beautiful yet challenging journey. No one in my family has gone down this path before, so everything I do is a first. No one has pressured me to be the best student, but I’ve always put that pressure on myself. I’ve pushed myself to succeed, even when it felt like the odds were stacked against me. For the past 14 years, I’ve dedicated my life to my education. I’ve poured my heart and soul into every test, every project, every assignment—because I believe education is my way out. It’s the bridge between the life I have and the life I dream of. I’ve had to face many obstacles, not because I lack the drive or intelligence, but because I lack the money. There have been moments when I felt discouraged, moments when I wondered if all my effort was in vain. But then I think of my mom the strongest woman I know and I find the courage to keep going. My mom has taught me the value of resilience. She has taught me to get up every time life knocks me down. Her sacrifices, her love, and her endless strength have shaped me into the person I am today. I want to succeed, not just for me, but for her—for all the nights she stayed up worrying, for all the dreams she set aside for mine, for all the moments she carried the weight of two parents on her own shoulders. One day, I want to look at her and say, “We made it.” I want to make her proud and show her that all of her sacrifices were worth it.

Education should not be difficult. Since the beginning of my academic journey, I believed that if I worked hard, got good grades, and stayed committed, I would earn the opportunities that money alone couldn’t buy. For years, I held on to that belief. I gave everything to my education—late nights studying, pushing myself beyond my limits, and always striving to be the best student I could be. But as I’ve gotten closer to reaching my dream, I’ve realized how much money really matters. Despite all my efforts, I’ve found that determination and discipline aren’t always enough. The financial burden has become one of the biggest obstacles in my life. My father has refused to support me financially, and because of that, I’ve been unable to take important steps toward studying abroad—the dream I’ve worked toward for so long. What hurts the most is not the lack of money itself, but the feeling that all the sacrifices I’ve made, all the pressure I’ve carried alone, might not be enough. My parents never pushed me the way I pushed myself. They didn’t expect straight A’s or awards—but I did. I’ve always believed that education was my way forward, my way to build a better life for myself and one day for my family. That belief hasn’t changed. But more than anything, I want to make my mom proud. She has been my biggest support, and I’ve seen her work hard every day to give me a better chance at life. She came from a small town and never had the opportunities I’m now fighting for. I want her to look at me and know that everything she sacrificed was worth it. I want to take her one day to the beach or a resort and say, “We made it”—because her strength is part of my success too. I’ve started searching for opportunities scholarships, programs, any way to fund my education but even that has been difficult to do on my own without financial support. I don’t ask for much. All I want is the chance to keep going. I believe in the value of education, and I believe in what I’m capable of doing with it. I just need someone to believe in me, the way I’ve always believed in myself and the way my mother has always believed in me. I would be honored to be given a opportunity on this journey where all the doors have been closed for me.

Changing the world is not an easy task, but I believe that changing people’s minds is the first step toward making a difference. I don’t dream of being the most powerful or important person in the world. What truly matters to me is dedicating my life to encouraging others—to inspire people to be better, to stay grounded, and to act with purpose and responsibility. That’s why I chose marketing as my career. I was drawn to it not just for its creative side, but for its versatility. Marketing touches every part of life: culture, communication, human behavior, and social change. It’s a tool that, when used with intention, can educate, uplift, and connect people from all walks of life. I see marketing as a platform—a way to reach others, to tell stories that matter, and to inspire action. More than anything, I want to use my voice and creativity to send meaningful messages out into the world. I want to speak up for those who feel like their stories don’t matter. I want to create campaigns that make people think, feel, and reflect. As someone who has not always had the financial resources to make her dreams a reality, I understand what it means to work hard, to push through obstacles, and to keep going even when the path seems uncertain. That struggle is part of my story—and it’s the reason why I want to make space for others like me to be seen and heard. Marketing gives me a path to do that. Through this career, I hope to lead with empathy, passion, and purpose. I want to highlight voices that are too often ignored. I want to contribute to a future where creativity isn’t just about business, but about impact. At the end of the day, my goal is simple: to leave the world a little better than I found it. Whether it’s through a campaign that touches someone’s heart or a message that changes someone’s mindset, I want to help others see their own value—and remind them that they are capable of greatness, too.

1. I started learning English from a very young age, when I was 3 years old. I have been studying English since then. 2(a) An obstacle I encountered was that last year, in my junior year, I had to learn a topic in maths that was very hard, and the teacher wasn’t explaining well. 2(b)I decided that I had to do something for myself, so I decided to do around 60 exercises so I could understand by practicing again and again. At the end, I learned and still remember that topic perfectly. 3. My educational role is the last teacher I had at the English institute where I graduated; he was the most passionate tutor I have ever seen. He made the classes enjoyable and perfect for learning English, I will never forget his humor and passion. 4(a)I want to study in the United States. Currently, I have a scholarship at a university, but I don’t have the money to pay for all the other financial things. 4(b) I plan to start working and pursuing my dreams of being in the design area and marketing of many companies, or even creating my own enterprise. 5. I have always been the student who helps others no matter what. Whenever my classmates felt confused or intimidated by a topic, I would take the board and explain whatever made them feel insecure about the class.

My Dominican culture means everything to me. It’s more than where I come from—it’s a vibe, a lifestyle, and a source of strength that runs deep in my identity. Dominicans are among the kindest, most courageous, and resilient people I know. Together, we are strong, creative, and capable of anything we put our minds to. From the lively rhythms of our music to the delicious food that brings people together, being Dominican is something to be proud of. Who wouldn’t love the energy, the warmth, and the joy of being Dominican? But I also know that behind our vibrant culture, there are real struggles. Many Caribbean and Latin American countries face economic instability, and the Dominican Republic is no exception. My family has lived through that reality. Like many others, we have had to overcome financial hardship with determination, faith, and hope. Those experiences have shaped me into someone who dreams big—not only for myself, but for my family as well. Since I was very young, I’ve had a dream: to study overseas, especially in the United States. I believe that studying there will give me the opportunity to grow, to explore my potential, and to build a better future for both myself and my loved ones. I imagine myself one day telling my parents, “Let’s go to the beach,” or “Let’s take a weekend at a resort”—not just for fun, but as a way to say thank you. I want to give back to them for everything they’ve done for me, especially my mother. My mother is the most inspiring woman I know. She was born and raised in the countryside of the Dominican Republic, in a humble setting where opportunities were limited. But she never let that stop her. She dreamed of a better life and worked hard to make it happen. With persistence and sacrifice, she moved to the city, found work, and eventually found a place for us to live. It’s not a mansion, but it has been a loving, stable home for all these years. Through every challenge, she has taught me the meaning of perseverance and love. Her story motivates me every single day. I want to honor her sacrifices by doing my best, reaching higher, and not being afraid to chase my dreams. My goal is to not only earn a degree abroad but to bring that knowledge and experience back to uplift my community and family. I want to become someone who inspires others the way my mother has inspired me. Studying in the United States is not just a dream of leaving—it’s a dream of becoming. Becoming a professional, becoming a voice for others, becoming someone who never forgets where she came from. My Dominican roots have given me a deep sense of pride and identity. They’ve taught me to be strong, to care for others, to work hard, and to enjoy life’s beauty even when things are difficult. I carry my culture in my heart everywhere I go. No matter where I end up, I’ll always be Dominican. And it’s that identity—bright, bold, and resilient—that will carry me through every challenge and toward every goal I set.

Art has been my identity—an essential part of who I am—for as long as I can remember. Since I was a child, I’ve been drawn to the colors, shapes, and emotions that art can evoke. It has always felt like more than just a hobby or interest; it’s been a way of seeing and understanding the world. I believe everything in life is art. Even the small leaves on a plant, often overlooked, are part of a greater design. Nature itself is a masterpiece of creation, filled with rhythm, symmetry, and beauty. This perspective has shaped the way I view life and the way I express myself. Over time, I’ve explored many areas of art—drawing, painting, digital media, fashion—but one area has stood out above all the rest: design. There’s something uniquely fulfilling about creating visual harmony and purpose from ideas. For me, designing feels like breathing. I could do it endlessly and never tire. It never feels forced or unwanted because it is a natural extension of how I think and feel. I see design not only as a form of art but also as a way to solve problems, communicate messages, and inspire people. As I grew older and began to think about my future, I realized that I wanted to combine this creativity with practical skills that could help me connect with others, build meaningful work, and make an impact. That’s when I discovered marketing—a field that blends creativity, strategy, communication, and psychology. Marketing is so much more than advertising a product; it’s about understanding people, telling compelling stories, and finding innovative ways to connect ideas with audiences. Marketing, in many ways, reflects the same artistic process I’ve come to love. You start with a blank canvas—a problem to solve, a message to share—and use your imagination and tools to bring it to life. It’s a career that allows you to be creative and analytical, expressive and strategic. What drew me most to marketing is how it lets you do so much with so little. With the right mindset and vision, a small idea can grow into something powerful. You don’t always need the biggest budget or the flashiest tools—what matters most is your ability to think differently, connect emotionally, and create value. I also admire how marketing requires empathy and strong communication. To succeed in this field, you must understand what people need, what they feel, and how to reach them. This human connection is important to me. I’ve always been someone who cares deeply about people and their stories, and marketing gives me the chance to bridge the gap between creativity and human understanding. Choosing marketing as my career path feels like a natural step—one that aligns with my artistic foundation while expanding my skill set in exciting ways. I want to continue growing as a designer, but also as a communicator, strategist, and thinker. I see myself working on campaigns that are not only visually appealing but also meaningful, relevant, and impactful. In the end, art has taught me how to see beauty in everything, and marketing gives me a way to share that perspective with the world. It’s more than a profession—it’s a platform where I can blend imagination and intention, passion and purpose. I am ready to take this next step, to learn, to grow, and to build a future where creativity leads the way.

In my high school, volleyball is a coed sport—both males and females play together on the same team. When I first heard this, I thought it would be a great way to build unity and challenge myself as a player. But as I stepped onto the court for the first time, I quickly realized that playing alongside boys brought unexpected challenges. Many of the male players were obsessed with winning, and their competitive mindset often turned into dominance. Instead of encouraging teamwork, they took over the game, sidelining the girls and making us feel as though we didn’t belong. At first, it was hard not to take it personally. I felt ignored, excluded, and underestimated. There were moments when I questioned my place on the team. Why were we treated as less capable? Why did our voices not carry the same weight during team huddles or practices? The volleyball court became a reflection of something bigger—how hard it can be for girls to be seen and heard in spaces where men expect to lead. I missed the atmosphere of all-girls games, where communication flowed easily and everyone supported one another. With only girls on the court, there was a sense of understanding, shared motivation, and unity that felt natural. Still, I didn’t quit. I kept showing up. I played through the frustration, stayed focused, and gave my best at every practice. Over time, the boys began to take notice. My teammates started to pass me the ball more, ask for my input, and trust me during crucial plays. They saw that I wasn’t there just to fill a spot—I was there because I cared, because I wanted to grow, and because I deserved to be part of the game just as much as they did. Playing volleyball with boys taught me to be brave. I had to speak up for myself, to call for the ball, to play confidently even when I was nervous. I learned not to let the fear of making a mistake hold me back. Everyone makes mistakes—boys and girls alike—and it doesn’t define your worth or ability. That realization helped me push past self-doubt and focus on the love I have for the game. While I still prefer the supportive environment of playing only with girls, I’ve also learned that coed volleyball offers valuable lessons. Not every male teammate was dismissive or overly dominant. Some of them showed great skill in strategy, communication, and fast decision-making. Watching them helped me improve my own techniques. When they chose respect over ego, we played better as a team and learned from one another. More than anything, this experience taught me the importance of standing my ground. In sports—and in life—there will be times when others may try to overlook you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong. You earn your place not by demanding it, but by showing up, staying true to who you are, and proving through action that you’re worthy of it. Being part of a coed team was not always easy, but it helped me find my voice both on and off the court. I’ve grown not only as a volleyball player, but as a confident young woman who now understands the power of perseverance, courage, and self-belief.