As a transgender person diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, I am committed to using my art and education to uplift people whose voices are too often overlooked. Through dance, choreography, and digital media, I want to create work that sparks conversation, challenges assumptions, and reminds others that every person's story deserves to be seen and heard. Outside of the arts, I have sought opportunities to serve my community. As a School Student Equity Ambassador, I have worked alongside other students committed to making our county a more equitable and inclusive place. Through monthly meetings and collaborative projects, we developed solutions to challenges affecting members of our community. I have also volunteered at a local food bank, where I learned that service extends far beyond meeting physical needs. Helping address food insecurity taught me the importance of dignity, compassion, and human connection. These experiences strengthened my belief that meaningful change happens when people work together to support one another. Recently, I faced another significant challenge when I suffered a three-centimeter proximal hamstring tendon tear and meniscus tear during my senior year. The injuries were devastating. Competitions, featured roles, and special performances that I had worked toward suddenly became impossible. Surgery was only the beginning of a long recovery process. Physical therapy has helped me rebuild strength, while ongoing mental health support has helped me manage fears of falling behind, being excluded, and experiencing another injury. This experience reinforced an important lesson that my disabilities had already begun teaching me: growth is rarely linear. Progress often comes through patience, persistence, and the willingness to adapt when life does not go according to plan. The trials I have faced have not defined me by what I cannot do; they have shaped me into someone who understands the value of perseverance, empathy, and using my voice to help others feel seen. I plan to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance with a minor in digital animation because I believe movement and technology together can tell powerful stories. By combining these art forms, I hope to create immersive performances that explore gender identity, neurodiversity, resilience, and belonging. My goal is not only to entertain audiences but also to encourage empathy and inspire meaningful dialogue about social issues. As both an artist and an activist, I want my work to advance greater inclusion for LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent communities. I hope to challenge outdated ideas about disability by presenting neurodiversity as a strength rather than a limitation. Through my choreography and multimedia projects, I want to advocate for more accessible, inclusive spaces where disabled and marginalized artists are valued, represented, and empowered to create. My identities have shaped both my perspective and my purpose. For years, I struggled to find the confidence to embrace who I am. Today, I speak openly about being transgender and neurodivergent because I know that visibility matters. Inspired by other openly queer activists and artists, I want others who have experienced bullying, isolation, or self-doubt to see that their identities are not barriers to success or creativity. Art has always been my way of expressing what words alone cannot. I hope my work encourages people to question stereotypes, celebrate differences, and recognize the humanity we all share. If my performances help even one person feel understood, or inspire someone to create positive change in their own community, then I will know I have made the kind of impact I have always hoped to achieve.

As a transgender person diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, I am committed to using my art to uplift people whose voices are too often overlooked. Through dance, choreography, and digital media, I want to create work that sparks conversation, challenges assumptions, and reminds others that every person's story deserves to be seen and heard. I plan to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance with a minor in Animation at George Mason University, because I believe movement and technology together can tell powerful stories. By combining these art forms, I hope to create immersive performances that explore gender identity, neurodiversity, resilience, and belonging. My goal is not only to entertain audiences but also to encourage empathy and inspire meaningful dialogue about social issues. As both an artist and an activist, I want my work to advance greater inclusion for LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent communities. I hope to challenge outdated ideas about disability by presenting neurodiversity as a strength rather than a limitation. Through my choreography and multimedia projects, I want to advocate for more accessible, inclusive spaces where disabled and marginalized artists are valued, represented, and empowered to create. My identities have shaped both my perspective and my purpose. For years, I struggled to find the confidence to embrace who I am. Today, I speak openly about being transgender and neurodivergent because I know that visibility matters. I want others who have experienced bullying, isolation, or self-doubt to see that their identities are not barriers to success or creativity. Art has always been my way of expressing what words alone cannot. I hope my work encourages people to question stereotypes, celebrate differences, and recognize the humanity we all share. If my performances help even one person feel understood, or inspire someone to create positive change in their own community, then I will know I have made the kind of impact I have always hoped to achieve. Attached you will find my dance reel as well as some examples of my digital art. Thank you so much in advance for your consideration.

Dreaming for the future is not about achieving a perfect life or following a predetermined path. It is the opportunity to pursue your goals while living authentically, even when obstacles stand in your way. It is the freedom to grow into the person you are meant to be and the ability to use your experiences to create positive change for others. My journey has shown me that I am not defined by the challenges I face, but by my determination to overcome them and continue moving forward. They say you need thick skin to pursue the arts. Between casting disappointments, injuries, and moments of not performing at the level you know you are capable of, performing arts teaches resilience that extends far beyond the studio. Dancing since the age of two, all I wanted was to become a professional ballerina. That certainty disappeared when I realized I was transgender. In my mind, everything I had worked toward suddenly felt impossible. I believed there was no way I could continue pursuing dance while living authentically. It felt as though my carefully planned future was collapsing, and I could not imagine a version of myself that could exist both as a dancer and as my true self. So, I quit dancing. Although my love for dance never disappeared, it became deeply connected to feelings of dysphoria and insecurity. Around the same time, I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. While overwhelming at first, the diagnosis gave me a better understanding of the challenges I had experienced throughout childhood and provided me with support systems that helped me academically and personally. More importantly, it helped me better understand myself as someone navigating a world that often misunderstands differences. After working through complex emotions, receiving the support I needed in school, and beginning my transition, I made a decision that changed everything: I returned to dance. Starting over was physically demanding and mentally exhausting. However, with the support of my instructors, I slowly rebuilt not only my technique, but also my confidence. Dance stopped being tied to dysphoria and instead became connected to authenticity, self-expression, and joy. Dance taught me how to recover from setbacks, think quickly under pressure, and continue growing even when the process felt difficult. The opportunity to return to something I loved while embracing who I am reflects what the American Dream means to me: the chance to pursue your passions without sacrificing your identity. I plan to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance with a minor in digital animation because I believe movement and technology together can tell powerful stories. By combining these art forms, I hope to create immersive performances that explore gender identity, neurodiversity, resilience, and belonging. My goal is not only to entertain audiences but also to encourage empathy and inspire meaningful dialogue about social issues. As both an artist and an activist, I want my work to advance greater inclusion for LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent communities. I hope to challenge outdated ideas about disability by presenting neurodiversity as a strength rather than a limitation. Through my choreography and multimedia projects, I want to advocate for more accessible, inclusive spaces where disabled and marginalized artists are valued, represented, and empowered to create. My identities have shaped both my perspective and my purpose. For years, I struggled to find the confidence to embrace who I am. Today, I speak openly about being transgender and neurodivergent because I know that visibility matters. I want others who have experienced bullying, isolation, or self-doubt to see that their identities are not barriers to success or creativity. This scholarship will help ease the financial burden that college will be, so that I can concentrate on my goals and dreams. Art has always been my way of expressing what words alone cannot. I hope my work encourages people to question stereotypes, celebrate differences, and recognize the humanity we all share. If my performances help even one person feel understood, or inspire someone to create positive change in their own community, then I will know I have made the kind of impact I have always hoped to achieve.

In today’s world, technology influences nearly every aspect of our lives. Phones, social media, and instant communication make it easier than ever to stay connected, but they can also create distance between people. While technology can be useful, authentic human connection cannot be replaced by technology. Real connection is built through empathy, conversation, collaboration, and shared experiences. In a world increasingly driven by technology, we must make a conscious effort to strengthen genuine human relationships and create communities where people feel truly seen and understood. As a student diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, I understand how important meaningful human connection can be. Before receiving my diagnosis, I often struggled to explain why I experienced situations differently from others. I sometimes felt disconnected from my peers and unsure of where I belonged. Receiving my diagnosis was relieving because it gave me answers and helped me better understand myself. More importantly, the support I received from teachers, family, and peers reminded me that real growth happens through human understanding and encouragement, not through technology alone. With the support of my IEP, I have learned not only to accept these differences, but to use them as a source of motivation. The relationships I have built in school activities, classrooms, and leadership roles have helped me grow more confident in myself and my abilities. Even though I work well independently, I actively seek opportunities to collaborate with others because face-to-face interaction teaches communication, trust, and teamwork in ways that technology cannot fully replace. One of the most meaningful experiences I had this year was directing a short film in my animation class. While technology was used to create the project, the most important part of the experience was the collaboration behind it. Working together with classmates required communication, patience, and listening to one another’s ideas. We spent time brainstorming, solving problems, and encouraging each other throughout the process. Submitting the project to a high school film festival felt rewarding not simply because of the final product, but because of the relationships and teamwork that made it possible. That experience reminded me that technology should support human creativity and connection, not replace it. As a member of both the LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent communities, I have also become passionate about advocacy and inclusion. Serving as a county Student Equity Ambassador has shown me how powerful genuine conversations can be; I work alongside peers to address issues of inclusion and representation within our schools. This role has shown me that the meaning of “community” is evolving. In the past, community was defined by proximity to each other, but today it is increasingly shaped by shared values, identities, and goals. For those seeking to build strong, healthy communities, this shift means prioritizing empathy, active listening, and intentional inclusion. Communities are no longer just places we belong to; they are spaces we actively create and sustain. This ever changing understanding of community goes hand in hand with my future goals. My passion for the arts has reinforced this belief. I plan to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance at George Mason University; dance creates emotional connection in a way technology cannot replicate. Through movement and performance, people are able to communicate stories, emotions, and experiences directly to one another. I hope to explore themes of identity, neurodiversity, and social justice. I also plan to minor in digital animation, bringing human connection and technology together, to tell meaningful stories and make a positive impact through my work. In a world increasingly driven by technology, preserving authentic human connection means making the choice to engage with others in meaningful ways. Technology can help people communicate, but it should never replace empathy, collaboration, and real relationships. My experiences as a neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ student have taught me that the strongest communities are built through understanding, support, and shared experiences. Whether through advocacy, leadership, filmmaking, or dance, I hope to continue creating spaces where people feel genuinely connected, valued, and understood beyond a screen.

My life as a neurodivergent person has been nothing short of colorful. As someone with autism spectrum disorder, my differences has brought me a plethora of both struggles and strengths. Although I was not diagnosed until the age of twelve, looking back in hindsight, there were definitely some indicators that were present throughout my early childhood that I was atypical. The experience of receiving a diagnosis was a bit relieving, as I felt that all of the things I had experienced during my life thus far were validated. When I received my diagnosis, I was able to understand my needs as I was coming to terms with being transgender as well. I was able to speak to my needs to my parents and receive the life saving gender affirming care needed to live my life authentically. Today, my personality is rooted in perseverance, self-reflection, and courage. I value authenticity above all else, and learning to embrace my identity allowed me to reconnect with myself in a way that feels empowering. My life is no longer tied to dysphoria- it is tied to authenticity, love, and my true self. Despite my IEP, I need very little academic help. One of my strengths as an autistic individual is that I work very proficiently at school. I have little to no trouble focusing on my work, and I am able to work independently without any struggle. I do enjoy working with others as well, and I often take positions of leadership when working with a group. In terms of strengths that I plan to use in order to reach my goals and aspirations later in life, my strongest attribute is that I am very hard-working and driven, and this ability has brought me much success and praise from my teachers and peers. I hope to maintain it for the rest of my time as a student, and eventually transform it into something that can be utilized in my professional career. Even though being on the spectrum provides me with valuable strengths, there are still quite a few areas of life that I tend to struggle with. One of the most significant challenges I have dealt with is making and keeping genuine friends. I have only found success at forming new genuine connections a few times, and I currently only have three true friends. However, these individuals have absolutely made the fight worth it. They understand me like nobody else does, but more importantly, they share my quirkiness. 

 My desire to educate people on neurodiversity has given me the confidence to step up as a leader this year. I was given the amazing opportunity by one of my teachers to be an official Student Equity Ambassador. This program is reserved for students who feel a strong urge to make my county a more diverse and equitable place, working together to come up with viable solutions to ongoing challenges that those within our community face. I look forward to days in the future where society completes the shift to fully supporting and uplifting those with both visible and invisible disabilities. Through these experiences, I have learned that advocating for myself is one of the most important skills I can carry into adulthood. Learning to communicate my needs, embrace my identity, and speak openly about neurodiversity has helped me grow into a more confident and resilient person. I now understand that my voice has value, and I hope to use it to support both myself and others for years to come.

Living with diagnosed anxiety, depression, and autism spectrum disorder has taught me a lot about discipline, self-awareness, and asking for support when I need it. My parents are both artists and performers who believe in activism through art, and as a transgender person diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, I have vowed to use my voice to uplift those whose voices are continuously silenced. My passion for the arts, as well as discussion and civil discourse, has shaped my vision to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance at George Mason University- I am so honored to have been accepted into this highly selective, audition-based conservatory program. They say you need thick skin to pursue the arts, and dance has shaped both my resilience and identity. Dancing since the age of two, all I wanted was to be a professional female ballerina, which is why realizing that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. My mental health began to decline, self harm became the norm, and I wasn't sure how to grapple with these intense feelings. For a time, I believed I had to choose between authenticity and my passion. That belief led me to quit dance, but ultimately, it also led me back. Today, my personality is rooted in perseverance, self-reflection, and courage. I value authenticity above all else, and learning to embrace my identity allowed me to reconnect with dance in a way that feels empowering. Dance is no longer tied to dysphoria. It is tied to authenticity, love, and my true self. My ultimate goal is to become not only a professional dancer and choreographer, but also an activist for the LGBTQ+ and neurodiverse communities. In addition, I hope my work will contribute to advancing the disability rights movement by challenging traditional expectations of who belongs in dance. Through choreography and performance, I aim to highlight neurodiversity as a strength rather than a limitation, advocating for more accessible and inclusive spaces in the arts. I also plan to minor in digital animation to create projects that blend movement and technology, telling meaningful stories about emotion, gender identity, and social issues, and make a positive impact through my work. Because I want to dance professionally, taking care of my mental health is just as important as physical training. It’s easy to think of mental health challenges as struggles, but I’ve started to see them as part of what shapes me as an artist. They’ve helped me become more empathetic and reflective in my work. As a dancer, I try to set realistic goals, accept feedback, and keep going even when things feel difficult. Some days I focus on improving technique, while other days the goal is simply to keep moving forward. Some days the goal is just to walk into the building and be surrounded by other artists. Recently, I suffered a 3 cm proximal hamstring tendon and meniscus tear, which was a huge setback, and devastating for my senior year. Gone are the competitions, featured parts in dances, and special performances. Surgeries were the first steps, but recovery has shown me that healing is not just physical. Physical therapy is helping me rebuild strength, but mental health therapy is also helping me regain confidence while I’m sidelined from dancing. Ultimately, I want to show that being transgender or living with mental health challenges or disabilities doesn’t stop someone from achieving big goals. If my advocacy and arts work can encourage even one person to accept themselves or feel understood, then I will feel like I have accomplished what I’ve always set out to do.

My parents are both professional artists/performers, so my fate to be an artist was sealed before I was born. My mother was my first dance teacher; dragging me to all her classes was cheaper than a babysitter. With my neurodivergent tendencies, I always felt different and weird. But with dance, everything shifted. I found people who were just as passionate and excitable, creative and courageous. The change was immediate the moment I stepped onto the stage, I truly felt ambition for the first time. It was like a light clicked, illuminating only one possible path for me to take on. They say you need thick skin to pursue the arts. Between the casting disappointments, injuries, and not performing up to the level that you know you’re capable of, the lessons learned as a artist can carry you through to your life, and the way you are perceived as a member of society. Dancing since the age of two, all I wanted was to be a professional female ballerina, which is why realizing that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I could not imagine a version of myself who could exist authentically and continue pursuing the art that I loved. I quit dancing. Around this same time, I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, which thankfully validated the challenges I had experienced throughout childhood and gave me access to the educational and healthcare support I needed. It also helped me better understand my experience as a transgender individual navigating a world that often misunderstands differences. After working through complex emotions and beginning my transition, I made a decision that changed everything: I returned to dance. Starting over was physically demanding and mentally exhausting. But slowly, with encouragement from my instructors and unwavering support from my loved ones, I began rebuilding not just my technique, but my relationship with myself. I am proud of the artistic and technical growth I have achieved since returning to dance. This art has meant everything to me; not only does dance define me, dance is no longer tied to dysphoria. It is tied to authenticity, love, and my true self. Being a part of the LGBTQ+ and neurodiverse communities is a responsibility I do not take lightly; I vow to use my voice to uplift those whose voices are continuously silenced. My passion for the arts, as well as discussion and civil discourse, has shaped my vision to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance in the audition-based conservatory program at George Mason University. My ultimate goal is to become not only a professional dancer and choreographer, but an activist as well. I look forward to entering this next phase of my artistic journey where marginalized voices are celebrated, and students are encouraged to create choreography that reflects real-world issues. I also plan to minor in digital animation so I can create projects that blend movement and technology. By bringing these art forms together, I hope to tell meaningful stories about emotion, gender identity, and social issues, and make a lasting, positive impact through my work. I love using art as a form of expression to share my ideas and views; to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do.

Being neurodivergent with autism, I always felt different and weird. But through the art of dance, everything shifted. I found my people- who were just as passionate, excitable, creative, athletic, courageous, and ambitious. I found people who were empathetic and able to see things from other perspectives. Most importantly, I found people who were tolerant of other people’s opinions and beliefs. As unfortunate as it is, it is inevitable for those who harbor any unique traits or challenges to struggle within our society, simply due to the fact that our society was not structured with them in mind. My initial struggle due to my realization that I was transgender around age 11, as a serious dancer with a dream of becoming a professional ballerina, was life altering. In my mind everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a grinding halt, as l believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my transition a few years later, I was finally able to return to dance with a fresh start. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth over the past couple of years. If it weren't for the endless support and encouragement from my loved ones and instructors, I would have never rediscovered my long-lost passion and found my place in the world. I was finally able to breathe, become my true self, and improve academically, creatively, and socially, despite this adversity. My love for discussion, civil discourse, and the arts has lead me down the path to strive for a BFA in Contemporary Dance, in a conservatory audition-based program. I can't wait to move into this next phase of my artistic journey; college dance/art departments often are very inclusive and allow marginalized voices to be celebrated. They tend to support activism by encouraging students to create choreography that reflects real-world issues and personal identity. Through dance composition classes and student performances, I hope to inspire others to use movement to explore social justice, inclusion, and change. Dance performances often start conversations and help audiences reflect, showing that dance can be both art and advocacy. I also plan to minor in animation so I can combine animation and dance to create projects that blend movement and technology. By bringing these art forms together, I hope to tell meaningful stories about emotion, identity, and social issues, and make a positive impact through my work. I hope to inspire others and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. I love using art as a form of expression to share my ideas and views; being able to influence just one person and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do. I look forward to a future where society completes the shift to fully supporting and uplifting those underserved. I firmly believe that the fight for equity and inclusivity never truly ends.

As unfortunate as it is, it is inevitable for those who harbor any unique traits or challenges to struggle within our society, simply due to the fact that our society was not structured with them in mind. Living with diagnosed anxiety and depression, as well as autism spectrum disorder, has taught me a lot about discipline, self-awareness, and asking for support when I need it. When I was 12 years old, my mental health struggles were partially due to my realization that I was transgender. As a serious dancer with a dream of becoming a professional ballerina, in my mind everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a grinding halt, as l now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. Although I had always been an anxious child, my mental health began to decline even more as thoughts darkened and self harm became the norm, as l didn't know how to deal with these new feelings. I subsequently quit dancing altogether, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of dance. This was also during the pandemic, and as I sat alone in my bedroom for a year and a half learning online, my depression worsened and my grades began to slip, to where I needed to be hospitalized until my medical team could ensure my safety. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings, spoke with a therapist, and started my transition a few years later, I was finally able to return to dance with a fresh start. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth over the past couple of years. If it weren't for the endless support and encouragement from my loved ones and instructors, I would have never rediscovered my long-lost passion and found my place in the world. I was finally able to breathe, become my true self, and improve academically and socially, despite this adversity. My parents are both artists and performers who believe in activism through art, so creativity has always been part of my life, and I plan to follow in their footsteps to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance through an audition-based conservatory program and eventually become a professional dancer and choreographer. Because I want to dance professionally, taking care of my mental health is just as important as the physical training. Therapy with mental health professionals, consistently taking my medication, and honest communication with my parents, teachers, and friends have helped me stay focused over the years since my initial depression and anxiety diagnosis at age 11. I’ve learned that each day isn’t always perfect, and sometimes success just means showing up and doing the best that I can. It’s easy to think of mental health challenges as struggles, but I’ve started to see them as part of what shapes me as an artist and overall human. They’ve helped me become more empathetic and reflective in my work as a dancer, as well as my day to day living. I try to set realistic goals, accept feedback, and keep going even when things feel difficult. Some days I focus on improving dance technique or working on relationships with others, while other days the goal is simply to keep moving forward. Some days the goal is just to walk into school or my dance building and just show up. Recently, I suffered a 3 cm proximal hamstring tendon tear, which was a huge setback, and devastating for my senior year. Gone are the competitions, featured parts in dances, and special performances. The silver lining was that I had completed most of my college auditions and received my artistic and academic acceptances. Surgery was the first step, but recovery has shown me that healing is not just physical. Physical therapy is helping me rebuild strength, but mental health therapy is also helping me regain confidence while I’m sidelined from dancing. My mental health professional is helping me deal with some true fears, like falling behind, being left out, and getting hurt again, but tracking progress and seeing small improvements has already helped me stay hopeful and motivated. Once I’m healed, my goal is to return to high-level training this summer and then continue developing my technique in college and beyond. I want to create and perform work that explores themes of gender identity, mental health, and neurodiversity. My dream is to build a career where authenticity and artistry work together, and where my experiences make me a stronger performer rather than hold me back. I also hope to inspire others, especially people who feel overlooked, hurt, or judged. Through dance, I want to show that being transgender or living with mental health challenges doesn’t stop someone from achieving big goals. Art has the power to start conversations and help people feel seen. If my work can encourage even one person to accept themselves or feel understood, then I will feel like I have accomplished what I’ve always set out to do.

My parents are both professional artists and/or performers, so my fate to be an artist was sealed before I was born. With my neurodivergent tendencies, I always felt different and weird. But with dance, visual art, and technical theatre, everything shifted. I found people who were just as passionate and excitable. Creativity, heart, soul, friendship, kindness, collaboration, courage, and ambition are all essential for a successful artist, and finding that collaboration with other students sealed the deal. The change was immediate the moment I stepped onto the stage with other dancers, picked up a sketchbook and drew a picture of a friend, or helped construct a set. I truly felt ambition for the first time- it was like a light clicked, illuminating only one possible path for me to take on. The visual and performing arts brightens life even in people’s darkest hours. It teaches empathy by making people see things from other perspectives. More importantly, it encourages us to be more tolerant of other people’s opinions and beliefs. Being neurodivergent and transgender, I hope to inspire others who have felt ignored, hurt, or bullied, and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. Ever since I came out, I vowed to use my voice to uplift those whose voices are continuously silenced. I also have a strong passion for collaboration, discussion, and discourse, and my desire to educate people on LGBTQ+ issues has given me the confidence to step up as a leader becoming an official Student Equity Ambassador. This program is reserved for students who feel a strong urge to make my county a more diverse and equitable place, and its purpose is for these students to work together to come up with viable solutions to ongoing community challenges. I am very vocal about my identity, both in person and online, and I will definitely continue to be until I am confident that LGBTQ+ individuals are safe and secure within our society. My plan is to continue to increase my artistic and technical skills as I strive for a BFA in Contemporary Dance, in a conservatory audition-based program. I can't wait to move into this next phase of my artistic journey; college dance departments often are very inclusive and allow marginalized voices to be celebrated. They tend to support activism by encouraging students to create choreography that reflects real-world issues and personal identity. Through dance composition classes and student performances, I hope to inspire others to use movement to explore social justice, inclusion, and change. Dance performances often start conversations and help audiences reflect, showing that dance can be both art and advocacy. I am also excited to collaborate with other visual and performing artists, and work across disciplines, especially in digital animation, which is another passion of mine (I'm currently in the digital animation program at a special academy alongside my academic classes). I plan to minor in animation art so I can combine animation and dance to create projects that blend movement and technology. By bringing these art forms together, I hope to tell meaningful stories about emotion, identity, and social issues, and make a positive impact through my work. I love collaborating with other artists as a form of expression to share our ideas and views; being able to influence just one person with this love, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do.

I am one of the lucky ones. I feel safe in my high school and am able to access education while having my gender identity affirmed. But accessing education at the collegiate level is another story. My being trans is not stopping me, I have the emotional support from my family, but the cost is so prohibitive. My father was out of work from July 2024 until May 2025, which led us to participating in Medicaid and the Free Lunch program at that time. He was able to secure a job in his field as a photo editor, but it is a part time position- he suffers from a heart condition, brought on by contracting Covid in early 2020 and has expensive doctors visits and sometimes struggles to work. My mother teaches low paying dance/drama. Finally, I have had the extra expense (and mental toll) this past year as my gender affirming care was cut from Washington DC, and I’ve had to see establish new, more expensive care in Virginia. As unfortunate as it is, it is inevitable for those who harbor any unique traits or challenges to struggle within our society, simply due to the fact that our society was not structured with them in mind. My initial struggle due to my realization that I was transgender around age 11, as a serious dancer with a dream of becoming a professional ballerina, was life altering. In my mind everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a grinding halt, as l believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my transition a few years later, I was finally able to return to dance with a fresh start. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth over the past couple of years. If it weren't for the endless support and encouragement from my loved ones and instructors, I would have never rediscovered my long-lost passion and found my place in the world. I was finally able to breathe, become my true self, and improve academically, creatively, and socially, despite this adversity. My parents are both professional artists/performers who value activism through their creativity, so my fate to be an artist was sealed before I was born. I plan to become a professional dancer/choreographer by pursuing a BFA in Contemporary Dance, through an audition based, conservatory college program. I will use dance as a medium to continue advocating for the trans community, and show that arts are for everybody. I hope to inspire others who have felt ignored, hurt, or bullied, and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. I love using dance as a form of expression to share my ideas and views, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have set out to do. My desire to educate people has given me the confidence this school year to step up as a Student Equity Ambassador. This program is reserved for students who want a more diverse and equitable county and will work together to come up with viable solutions to ongoing challenges our community faces. I hope to continue advocating for LGBTQ+ community, so that they can live with dignity and peace, as I believe the fight for equity and inclusivity never truly ends.

My parents are both professional artists/performers, so my fate to be an artist was sealed before I was born, and my parents are my biggest influences. They instilled humbleness, tenacity, ambition, and to also look at myself objectively and be truthful to myself about my abilities. They taught me to go for my dreams, no matter how big. With my neurodivergent tendencies, I always felt different and weird. But with dance, everything shifted. I found people who were just as passionate and excitable. The change was immediate the moment I stepped onto the stage, I truly felt at home for the first time. It was like a light clicked, illuminating only one possible path for me to take on. Dancing since the age of two, all I wanted was to be a professional female ballerina. By the time I was ten years old, I thought that I had the entirety of my life completely figured out, which is why realizing that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I subsequently quit, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my medical transition several years later that I was finally able to return to dance. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am so proud of my artistic and technical growth since returning. While I feel generally supported by my peers, I do sense a bit of discomfort from some. I acknowledge that many of them have been sheltered from interacting or even seeing people like me, so it is understandable. But I have learned that being true to myself is the most important thing I can do for my own mental health. Being neurodivergent and LQBTQ+, I hope to inspire others who have felt ignored, hurt, or bullied, and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. As a volunteer Student Equity Ambassador for my county, I work with other students who feel a strong urge to make schools a more diverse and equitable place, by finding viable solutions to ongoing challenges that our community face. Being able to brainstorm with other like-minded students has been incredibly fulfilling. Dance has the ability to teach empathy by making people see things from other perspectives. More importantly, it can encourage others to be more tolerant of different beliefs. I love using dance as a form of expression to share my ideas and views; being able to influence just one person with this love, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do. Navigating life as both transgender and neurodivergent has prepared me for the competitive professional world of dance, as I plan on pursuing a BFA in contemporary/modern dance in college, with the hope of being a professional dancer and activist. I sincerely hope that the art that I make and the activism I spread surrounding neurodiversity and LGBTQ+ rights will leave a mark on my peers and the world at large.

Dancing since the age of two, all I wanted was to be a professional female ballerina. By the time I was ten years old, I thought that I had the entirety of my life completely figured out, which is why realizing that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I subsequently quit, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my medical transition several years later that I was finally able to return to dance. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am so proud of my artistic and technical growth since returning. While I feel generally supported by my peers, I do sense a bit of discomfort from some. I acknowledge that many of them have been sheltered from interacting or even seeing people like me, so it is understandable. But I have learned that being true to myself is the most important thing I can do for my own mental health, and I know I will continue to grow as an artist, student, advocate and friend. As someone who was also diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as with a few emotional disabilities, I have always felt as though I was different from those around me. It is often quite difficult to function amongst my neurotypical peers, because many of them are uneducated about the struggles that my community and I face. Even though there are some upsides to being neurodivergent, it would be disingenuous to suggest that being non-neurotypical brings more than the desired amount of difficulty into one’s life. Although I do not wish to erase this part of my identity, I do wish that society and the world as a whole was set up with my community in mind. With this in mind, I hope to inspire others who have felt ignored, hurt, or bullied, and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. As a volunteer Student Equity Ambassador for my county, I work with other students who feel a strong urge to make schools a more diverse and equitable place, by finding viable solutions to ongoing challenges that our community face. Dance has the ability to teach empathy by making people see things from other perspectives. More importantly, it can encourage others to be more tolerant of different beliefs. I love using dance as a form of expression to share my ideas and views; being able to influence just one person with this love, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do. Navigating life as both transgender and neurodivergent has prepared me for the competitive professional world of dance, as I plan on pursuing a BFA in contemporary/modern dance in college, with the hope of being a professional dancer and activist. I sincerely hope that the art that I make and the activism I spread surrounding neurodiversity and LGBTQ+ rights will leave a mark on my peers and the world at large.

The way we express and present ourselves to others has a massive influence on how we are viewed and treated, and how we go about our daily lives and activities. Dance has been one of the most defining aspects in my life since I began at age two. I knew pretty much nothing else but dance for the entirety of my pre-adolescence, and I had an incredibly clear vision of remaining the same, young female dancer as I moved down the path of becoming a prima ballerina, which is why the recognition that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. Ballet is notorious for being incredibly gender segregated. Ever since its inception, ballet has been formulated to have males and females perform and train differently from one another. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a grinding halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I subsequently quit dancing altogether, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my transition a couple years later, I was finally able to return to dance with a fresh start. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth over the past couple of years. I am forever grateful for my amazing teachers who have not only affirmed my identity, but who have also trained me and lifted me up to the point where I am ready to pursue a BFA in Contemporary Dance in college, with the hope of becoming a professional dancer and activist. While I feel generally supported, I acknowledge that many people have been sheltered from interacting or even seeing people like me. As someone who was also diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, as well as a few emotional disabilities, I have always felt as though I was different from those around me. It is often quite difficult to function amongst my neurotypical peers, because many of them are uneducated about the struggles that I and many face. But my desire to educate people on the LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent communities has given me the confidence to step up as a leader and spread that passion to my peers. This year, I was given the amazing opportunity to be an official Student Equity Ambassador. This program is reserved for students who feel a strong urge to make my county a more diverse and equitable place; to work together to find viable solutions to ongoing challenges that those within our community face. I love using dance as a form of expression and advocacy; to share my ideas and views, and I hope to continue advocating for my LGBTQ+ and Neurodivergent community, so that they can live with dignity and peace, no matter what place they hold in the world. I also look forward to a future where society completes the shift to fully supporting and uplifting those with both visible and invisible disabilities. I firmly believe that the fight for equity and inclusivity never truly ends, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do.

Dance has been the most defining aspects of my life, and my dreams to be a professional female ballerina were all I knew. By the time I was ten years old, I thought that I had the entirety of my life completely figured out, which is why realizing that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I subsequently quit, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my medical transition several years later that I was finally able to return to dance. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am so proud of my artistic and technical growth since returning, to where I am now planning on pursuing my BFA in Contemporary Dance in college. While I feel generally supported by my peers, I do sense a bit of discomfort from some. I acknowledge that many of them have been sheltered from interacting or even seeing people like me, so it is understandable. But, going through my transition to be my true self, made me learn that it was the most important thing I could do for my own mental health. I just want to be me (cat loving, Minecraft playing, horror film obsessed) and be accepted for who I am, despite my differences. As a transgender jewish person diagnosis with Autism Spectrum Disorder, my desire to educate people on minority and underserved communities has given me the confidence to step up as a leader and spread that passion to my peers. This year, I was given the amazing opportunity by one of my past schoolteachers to be an official Student Equity Ambassador. This program is reserved for students who feel a strong urge to make our county a more diverse and equitable place, and its purpose is for these students to be able to work together to come up with viable solutions to ongoing challenges that those within our community face. Helping address food insecurity by volunteering at a local food bank during the pandemic was also an incredibly fulfilling experience. In such a scary and unprecedented time, I learned that my volunteering went far beyond distributing food, it was about dignity, empathy, and community. Seeing volunteers and staff working together toward a shared goal created a strong sense of purpose during times when we were social distancing and masked. The gratitude expressed by those receiving assistance left a lasting impression on me. And then to find myself years later on food assistance through the the county free lunch program, I realized how lucky I am that these programs like these are in place, at least for the time being. I hope to continue advocating for my fellow LGBTQ+, Jewish, Neurodivergent communities, so that they can live with dignity and peace, no matter what place they hold in the world. I also look forward to a future where society completes the shift to fully supporting and uplifting minorities and those with both visible and invisible disabilities. I firmly believe that the fight for equity and inclusivity never truly ends.

As a jewish person affected by the stigma of anti-semitism at school, I am extremely moved by Dr. Terry's story of overcoming adversity. Although this is an injustice that directly affected me, it also threatens the security of Jewish people around the world. It's not just confined to extremist circles anymore- it's become more mainstream, in schools, the press, and social media. I'm also transgender and neurodivergent, which has made my life nothing short of colorful. Dance has been one of the most defining aspects in my life, so when I realized I was transgender, it hit me like a ton of bricks. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life. I subsequently quit altogether, and although I never truly lost passion during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my transition a couple years later that I was finally able to return with new confidence. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth, and I plan to pursue a BFA in Dance in college and become a professional artist/activist. As someone also diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, my differences has brought me both struggles and strengths. Although I was not diagnosed until the age of twelve, looking back in hindsight, there were definitely some indicators that were present throughout my early childhood that I was atypical. The experience of receiving a diagnosis was a bit relieving, as I felt that all of the things I had experienced during my life thus far were validated. Despite my school IEP, I need very little academic help. One of my strengths as an autistic individual is that I work very proficiently. I have little to no trouble focusing on my work, and I am able to work independently without any struggle. I do enjoy working with others, and often take positions of leadership when working with a group. For example, I am currently working as the director for a short film in my animation class, and I am quite proud of the initiative I have taken. Although being on the spectrum provides me with valuable strengths, there are still quite a few areas of life that I tend to struggle with. One of the most significant challenges I have dealt with is making and keeping genuine friends. My desires, however, to educate on rights for Jews, LGBTQ+ and neurodivergency has given me the confidence to step up as a leader this year as an official Student Equity Ambassador, where I'm able to connect with more like minded students. This program is reserved for those who feel a strong urge to make ourcounty a more diverse and equitable place, and its purpose is for these students to be able to work together to come up with viable solutions to ongoing challenges that those within our community face. With my art and my advocacy, I hope to keep fighting for rights no matter the religion, gender, sexual orientation, or differences, and I look forward to days in the future where society completes the shift to fully supporting and uplifting minorities and those with both visible and invisible disabilities.

My parents are both professional artists and performers, so my fate to be an artist was sealed before I was born. With my neurodivergent tendencies, I always felt different and weird. But with dance, everything shifted. I found people who were just as passionate and excitable. Creativity, heart, soul, friendship, kindness, collaboration, courage, and ambition are all essential for a successful artist. The change was immediate the moment I stepped onto the stage, it was like a light clicked, illuminating only one possible path for me to take on. Dance brightens life even in people’s darkest hours. It teaches empathy by making people see things from other perspectives. More importantly, it encourages us to be more tolerant of other people’s opinions beliefs, and identities. I have been a dancer for as long as I can remember, and dance has been one of the most defining aspects in my life since I began at age two. I knew pretty much nothing else but dance for the entirety of my pre-adolescence, and I had an incredibly clear vision of remaining the same, young female dancer for the rest of my pre-professional days as I moved down the path of becoming a prima ballerina, which is why the recognition that I was transgender hit me like a ton of bricks. Ballet is notorious for being incredibly gender segregated. Ever since its inception, ballet has been formulated to have males and females perform and train differently from one another. It was partially because of this that I had such a strong reaction when I came to understand I was transgender. In my mind, everything I had dreamed of was forced to come to a grinding halt, as I now believed that there was no way I could carry on with my passion for dance if this were to be my new life.  I subsequently quit dancing altogether, and although I never truly lost my love for dance during this dark period, my brain began to associate it with feelings of gender dysphoria and insecurity, which led me to become repulsed by any mention or memories of it. It was not until I worked out these complex feelings and started my transition a couple years later that I was finally able to return to dance with a fresh start at a new institution that has helped me grow exponentially. Although the initial return was undeniably difficult (both from a physical and mental perspective), I kept pushing through and am now proud of my artistic and technical growth.  If it weren’t for the endless support and encouragement from my loved ones and instructors, I would have never rediscovered my long-lost passion and found my place in the world. They have not only affirmed my identity, but have also trained me and lifted me up to the point where I am ready to become a contemporary dance major in college and pursue a professional dance career. Being neurodivergent and LQBTQ+, I hope to inspire others who have felt ignored, hurt, or bullied, and bring teachable moments to all who look for guidance or change. I love using dance as a form of expression to share my ideas and views; being able to influence just one person with this love, and to make the world a more accessible and uplifting place would mean that I have accomplished what I have always set out to do. I sincerely hope that the art that I make through dance and the activism I spread surrounding neurodiversity and LGBTQ+ rights will leave a mark on my peers and the world at large.