I’ve always believed disagreement should be met with understanding, not hate. So when I witnessed a man clasp his hands in prayer and whisper, “These transgenders are all going to hell,” only to be met with someone shouting, “I’m going to kill you,” I was shaken. Not just by the words, but by the realization that our political world has become so fractured that even a State Assembly Education Committee hearing could feel like a battlefield. That summer, I was interning with California State Senator Steve Glazer, working on education and media policy. I had entered politics with a dream of creating change—universal background checks, climate policy, and more bipartisan dialogue. But witnessing that moment made me realize something deeper: politics is about people. It’s about the pain they carry, the beliefs they hold, and the compassion they deserve. At first, I was disillusioned. I saw how lobbyists and donors could sway legislation through financial influence. It felt discouraging. But then I saw the other side. A woman called our office in tears after her landlord tried to evict her so he could raise the rent. I connected her with a legal aid clinic, and she was able to keep her home. That moment showed me that politics can still be a force for good when it’s rooted in empathy. I’ve worked hard to earn the opportunities I’ve had. I spent nearly a year attending local town halls, introducing myself to Senator Glazer’s staff until I earned my internship. At school, I serve as president of both the debate team and Model UN, helping younger students develop their voices. These experiences haven’t made me perfect. I’ve learned that I can become frustrated when change feels slow. But they’ve also helped me grow into someone determined to lead a life of service. What drives me most is the hope of building a meaningful life—one that uplifts others. I want to help people like Tammy, the woman I connected with legal aid, find stability and dignity. I want to shape a policy that reflects empathy. I want to defend truth like I did when I supported legislation that taxed large tech companies and funded independent journalism. I believe informed communities are stronger, safer, and more united. This fall, I will attend the University of Pennsylvania to study Philosophy, Politics, and Economics. I chose this program because I want to approach policy with both moral clarity and practical skill. However, my family faces significant challenges. My dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness, ALS, and we lost our main financial provider. Alongside the emotional burden, there is the constant worry about how my family will afford college. My family has limited financial resources, and this scholarship would provide critical support that will allow me to pursue my dreams despite these hardships. I imagine a future where I help restore dignity to politics, empower young voices, and build communities that care for one another. With your support, I can begin that journey and carry Treye’s legacy forward in everything I do.

My mom has always told me, 玉不琢，不成器. "If a jade is not polished, it cannot be made into anything." In Chinese culture, this saying means that only through education can someone become a great person. Growing up, I didn’t fully grasp what she meant. To me, school was just about grades and test scores. But over time, I began to understand that what she valued was the process: working through challenges, asking hard questions, and shaping myself into someone who could contribute something meaningful to the world. Her words pushed me to pursue opportunities that would stretch me, even if they scared me. I applied to elite opportunities and universities with the understanding that I was worthy of getting them. Because of my other, I believed education was the key to success, and I could do anything I wanted. Speech and debate became one of those opportunities. I started as a quiet freshman who could barely speak without my voice shaking. The first time I watched Michelle, our Public Speaking President, I remember thinking, "I could never do that." But my teammates believed I could, and they invested in me. Older students like Michelle took me under their wing, taught me how to research, and showed me how to stand up and own a room. I eventually realized that speech and debate wasn't just about winning arguments. It was about learning how to think deeply and connecting with others who share your passion for informed discourse. That community became my second family. I still remember sitting in a Mexican restaurant in the middle of Iowa during Nationals, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. We were exhausted and far from home, but I felt completely at ease because I was with people who understood me. We bonded over long hours prepping cases and debating obscure policy topics, and we celebrated each other's successes like they were our own. When I qualified for State, my coach hugged me and told me how proud she was. Moments like that made me want to give back. As I improved, I began to achieve success on a national level. Last year, I placed 14th in the country in Extemporaneous Speaking, something I never imagined when I first joined. Now, I help run team practices, mentor younger students, and manage logistics to keep our program thriving. Being able to coach and lead the team that once supported me has been one of the most meaningful parts of my high school experience. Now, as President, I get to create that same welcoming space for younger students. I help plan tournaments, guide nervous freshmen through their first rounds, and collaborate on our curriculum. Watching them grow into confident speakers reminds me of where I started. It also reminds me why I stayed. Speech and debate gave me a place where curiosity was celebrated and complex issues were worth diving into. It surrounded me with people who challenged me to think bigger and question my own assumptions. My mom’s proverb taught me that growth takes work. Speech and debate showed me that growth can also be shared. It’s not just about polishing yourself, but about helping others shine too. That’s the mindset I want to carry into college. I want to find communities where I can continue asking hard questions and surround myself with people who push me to grow, remembering how speech and debate were the original community that challenged me to do just that in high school.