Community has always played a central role in shaping who I am and who I hope to become. Through volunteering, service, and involvement in local organizations, I have learned that giving back is not just about helping others in the moment, but about building relationships, responsibility, and purpose. The support and values instilled by my community have directly influenced my future career ambitions and the way I approach my goals. One of the most meaningful ways I have given back is through my involvement at my church. I actively participate in the choir, assist with event setup, and serve as a Sunday school instructor. These roles have taught me leadership, patience, and the importance of creating welcoming spaces for others. Teaching younger students has shown me how impactful guidance and encouragement can be, especially when children are still forming confidence in themselves. Through these experiences, I learned how to communicate clearly, support others emotionally, and step up when my community needs help. Being part of something larger than myself gave me a sense of responsibility and belonging that continues to motivate me. In addition to my church involvement, I took initiative beyond traditional volunteering and started a nonprofit organization dedicated to raising funds to support healthcare access and resources for those in need. This desire to make a difference led me to pursue an internship with an organization with similar goals, where I gained firsthand experience in community outreach, fundraising, and advocacy. Through organizing fundraisers and engaging with community members, I learned how healthcare disparities impact real lives and how sustainable support can create long-term change. These experiences strengthened my commitment to a career in healthcare, where I hope to combine direct patient care with advocacy and service to ensure individuals receive the support and dignity they deserve. These community experiences have deeply influenced my future career ambitions. Through volunteering, I discovered my passion for helping others in meaningful and hands-on ways. Whether through teaching, service, or direct support, I realized that I want a career where I can positively impact people’s lives. Being surrounded by individuals who uplift one another has shown me the importance of compassion, dedication, and consistency. These are qualities I hope to carry into my professional life. My community has also influenced my mindset toward success. I’ve learned that growth is not achieved alone and that giving back creates opportunities for mutual support. The encouragement I’ve received from mentors, community leaders, and peers has motivated me to pursue higher education and strive for a career that allows me to give back on a larger scale. Overall, my involvement in my community has shaped my character, values, and ambitions. It has taught me that service is powerful, leadership is learned through action, and success is most meaningful when it benefits others. As I move forward in my educational and professional journey, I am committed to continuing the cycle of support that my community has given me by using my skills, education, and passion to uplift others just as I have been uplifted.

There are students who study just to pass. Then there are students who study because failure is not an option. I am an example of just that. When people hear the word disadvantage, they picture a gap in lifestyle, whether its income, housing, food stamps. A disadvantage is more than a financial loss but instead brings a gain in motivation. It causes you to wake up every day with the pressure to change the direction of your entire bloodline. It is being the firstborn in an immigrant household and feeling like your success determines whether or not the struggle was worth it. I did not grow up surrounded by wealth, but I was raised in sacrifice. My mother worked long hours, barely home, doing everything she could to bring her family to this country. Even when she had nothing, she gave everything and sacrificed working for money to raise her kids because she knew money would come and go, but the morals she instilled into us would change generations. Watching that taught me what it means to work hard. It also taught me that nothing would ever be handed to me simply, as I had to work to even earn peace, rest, or any opportunity. I currently live in a world where inflation has made it almost impossible to afford your own basic need let alone education. I believe that the money organizations give back to disadvantaged high-achieving students is not even worth a quarter of the positive we can bring back to the world. The return is bigger than the check. We do not just take the support and move forward but we carry it with us and are capable of multiplying it. We pour it back into our families, our communities, and the younger versions of ourselves who are still searching for a way of survival I pour my effort into school because I know education is the one thing that cannot be taken from me. I made sure to ignore the world that held me back from working to my highest potential, and eventually grew to be free and asked questions even when I was afraid of sounding naive. I did not have generational guidance as the first in my family yo go to school in the US, but I knew to be responsible of my own education. I have grown to learn how to keep going even when I felt drained, balancing both my compassion and pride. This wasn't a lesson taught in a classroom, but shaped the type of devoted student I've become. Grants like this do more than just help but change our fate and what is possible. I plan not just to make my family proud but advocate that everyone deserves an education!

I was born in Las Vegas, Nevada. Many of those who see my daily actions, mindset, or the way I talk cannot come to terms with the statement as I am a living seed planted from the roots of the the land my family left behind, although sometimes I myself forget I wasn’t raised in Ethiopia. That’s how deeply my mother rooted those values in me. I didn’t have to immigrate. I didn’t face the long lines, the visa interviews, or the struggle of adjusting to a new country, but I still carry the story of immigration every day because it lives in my home, it lives in my mother’s voice, and it shaped the woman I am becoming. My mother is my greatest example of selflessness. She came to the United States first, alone, without family or support. Her siblings begged her to bring them too, and she never once said no. She worked over sixteen hour shifts just to afford direct visas. When that was not enough, she found another way. She sent two of my aunts to Kenya as refugees so they could eventually find safety. Slowly, and with so much sacrifice, all six of her siblings and my grandmother came to this country because of her. But when they got here, they forgot the struggle and efforts she put into their life while sacrificing her own. Instead of showing her gratitude, they became rude, dismissive, and ungrateful. After everything she gave, she used what little she had left to build a house in Ethiopia, a home she thought would bring the family back together. This is the same excuse my uncle put the house under his name for and now takes all the rent money for himself. She gave her life savings and was left with nothing. We are not rich. We live paycheck to paycheck. Yet she still stands strong. For a long time, I was just like her. I gave everything I had to everyone. I said yes even when it hurt. I believed helping people meant never saying no, because I knew that when you think you lost by giving to others, you will actually gain double from God. I learned the hard way that being generous without boundaries can leave you empty. I am learning to protect my peace, to prioritize my future, and to focus on what truly matters. I am going to school for a reason. Not just to make my mom proud, but to build a life where I can finally give her the peace she deserves. I want to provide for her the way she provided for everyone else. I want to be able to look her in the eyes and say, you can rest now. Her story made me who I am. Her sacrifice is the reason I fight so hard. And I carry that with me every single day, not as a weight or a burden, but as a covenant I live up to.

A growth mindset is the basis of growth itself. The negative experiences people try to avoid are the very ones that motivate me, because I know I am bound to gain life knowledge, strength, and new perspectives. Hardships and losses do more than just build confidence. They shape identity. They show us who we are when no one is watching. I used to think being a good friend meant giving all of myself without limits. I poured my time, my energy, and my care into people not because I expected anything back, but because I found joy in bringing them joy. That was enough for me until I started to become aware it was never enough for them. At first, I brushed it off. My friends constantly asked my mom for rides like she was their personal driver. They came into my home, not to spend time with me, but to dig through my closet and take what they wanted. I was the one always buying food, always checking in, and always giving. I didn’t even notice how little I got in return as I believed that being nice meant being selfless to the point of exhaustion. However I slowly started to feel heavy once the disrespect was much louder than the constant favors I poured The sadness I could not name. One day, I just pulled away. I don’t remember the exact moment, but I remember the peace that followed. For the first time, I had no one around me and yet I felt free. That was when I realized I was stronger than I thought. It was not strength that needed to be loud. It was quiet and calm, the kind of strength that comes from walking away instead of staying to prove your worth. That experience taught me that kindness should never cost you your self-respect. Being an empath is a gift, but even gifts need protection. I used to think that giving made me valuable, but now I know that my value exists even when I choose to protect my space. I became more mindful of the way I lead and serve others. Today, I teach Sunday school with an open heart but also clear boundaries. I model patience and empathy, but I also make sure the kids understand their worth, their limits, and their voice. I want them to grow up knowing that it is not selfish to say no. It is powerful. I want them to know they never have to earn love by shrinking themselves. Choosing peace showed me what kind of leader I truly am. One who inspires not by pleasing everyone, but by staying grounded in purpose, one who uplifts others without forgetting to uplift myself. I never felt the need to talk to people daily as I find peace in my quiet and confidence in my solitude. From that place of peace, I am able to give more, serve better, and lead with intention.

Las Vegas is known for casinos, clubs, and bright lights, but many forget that just 10 minutes off the strip, families are established with righteous values. For those of us in tight communities like the Ethiopian Orthodox church, the challenges feel personal. We are small, deeply connected, and built on strong faith, but we are far from being conflict-free. I have seen pride break us apart more than anything. Instead of kindness and humility, there are adults who act like they are in charge of everyone else. Church becomes less of a safe place and more of a performance. I have watched people my age slowly drift away, not because they stopped believing in God, but because they felt unwanted in the place they were supposed to find him. Once they step outside, the world takes them in easily. In a city like this, it is not hard to get caught in the wrong places. But I never gave up. I kept coming back. I started teaching Sunday school, not just to be helpful, but to protect the younger kids from feeling the same way. I try to show them that this place is for them too. I teach them gently, with love and patience. Some adults tell me I am too soft, that I should be stricter, but I do not agree. My mother gave me freedom and trust. She did not scare me into being good, she guided me with love. That is the kind of leadership I believe in, and that is what I bring to my community. I care about making my community better because I believe in the beauty it already holds. I love my culture, my faith, my people, however I am aware of what happens when pride replaces compassion. We already have everything we need, we are close, we are rooted, we are strong. Imagine what we could do if we treated each other with more care. My goal is not to leave this community behind but to grow with it. I want to help it become a place where young people feel heard and respected. I want the next generation to know they do not have to be tough to be taken seriously. They do not have to hide their hearts to be accepted. The children I teach deserve to feel safe and powerful at the same time.The future needs love, and I will do everything I can to make it real, not just for me, but for my family, for the kids at my church, and for everyone who deserves better than silence or shame. I do not want to change who we are, but bring out the best parts of us and let that be what shapes our future.

Growing up as part of the Ethiopian diaspora in the U.S., my heart yearns for my home, the land of my ancestors, and finally, the land that is my pride, not just because it shaped who I am, but who I am about to become. My maternal grandma who migrated to America the year I was born had never left my side until her passing in 2024. She was my motivation to fluently want to speak my country's language and growing up, even wanted to learn more about the culture and language of the region she was born in, the Hararghe region in Eastern Ethiopia. My grandma used to travel back home every summer and shower me in gold and cultural attire, even when my mother used to tell her I was a careless, hyper child and to not spend money on something I would lose, but my grandma always saw me as her princess and wanted me to be able to express my natural, ethnic beauty. One day, I woke up to the sounds of machines and wires drowning the floor of my grandma's bedroom, only to see her tethered to an oxygen tank. I was only 9 years old and everything happened in a blur, not knowing what illness she sad but only understood that her lungs could barely breathe alone and she would not be able to go anywhere. My first thought was how my grandma would be able to go back home to her beloved family and motherland, only to realize that she cannot because she would not have the proper health equipment as electricity is bound to shutoff for days, especially in her home town Asebe Teferi. Since then, I've always stayed home with her so she doesn't feel lonely, asking questions about her childhood, playing her tribal music in hopes of learning this new culture, and gaining all the knowledge about the history my bloodline holds before I lose access to my grandma as a primary source. Her passing in June of 2024, while I was 16 years old made me lose my hope and think that my world ended, but it really opened up a new chapter. As a rising junior with no idea of what I wanted to pursue, getting closer towards the most significant year of high school, I tried to evaluate my passions for my future and see what I was capable of doing and what I loved. I never saw any interest in healthcare even though I was one of the most generous, empathetic, and compassionate people, I always have a fear of living with regrets of not being able to save a patient just as I wasn't able to save my grandmother, even though this was completely out of my control. I started to google different colleges and majors that align with my interests, as I love math, creativity, innovation, helping others, and most importantly, the deep love I have for my native people. I then maybe thought I can find a major that collaborates both designing and creating with helping others, as well as the impact I plan to make in the long run within my home country. This is how I started looking into biomedical engineering. This field felt like a dream to me, although various alumni all over the media I have researched complain about the workload and the struggles of finding a career, I believe we pave our own way into forming our future and career. This summer, at the ripe age of 17 I started my nonprofit organization Tena Tech, which was dedicated to this excat motive. Tena means "health" in my language Amharic, which this name represents granting health through technology, which I plan to raise money to import medical devices within underfunded areas in the Horn of Africa. I started with contacting the hospital in my grandma's hometown, which is completely in the countryside as people from all over Ethiopia have to travel to the capital city, Addis Ababa, in order to recieve the healthcare they need, and even then it doesn't quite fulfill 100% of their needs as equipment funds as very limited. However, this can motivate my passion to grow my experience working with medical devices firsthand. I've already raised a couple hundreds of dollars through sharing with my close friends on social media platforms, and I further plan to connect with the Ethiopian Community of Las Vegas in order to get more diaspora to care for those in need back home that they have felt behind, as bringing more youth to advocate for their people too. I am dedicated to not only working to opening doors for these patients but to open the mindsets of many diaspora who have escaped poverty and now live in greed and envy. I plan to reform our community as a whole and change living conditions in Ethiopia, just as the devotion of my ancestors has destined them to do.

I didn’t grow up knowing what I wanted to be. While other kids dreamed of becoming astronauts or doctors, I just knew I loved building things with my hands, connecting with people, and pouring creativity into everything I touched, whether that meant turning a blank canvas into art or folding paper into sculptures that somehow told stories. However, when it came to deciding a future, I felt overwhelmed by the generational pressure to pick a path that would be socially acceptable, like being a ‘doctor, lawyer, or engineer’, even if I didn’t have the interest, as these are ways immigrant parents measure success. While many of my peers saw AI as a way to finish homework faster or plagiarize essays, I saw it as a tool and safe place where I could ask the questions I didn’t yet have the courage to ask anyone else. I remember opening ChatGPT and typing something simple, but honest: I don’t know what I want to be. I listed my hobbies, such as my love for helping others, my open-mindedness, the crafts I grew up experimenting with paper, markers, and shoe boxes at home, everything that shaped me into who I am today. I talked about my need to make an impact, but my fear of being boxed into something that didn’t align with who I was. Instead of giving me a single answer, AI gave me possibilities. It helped me make connections between what I loved and what existed in the world. I started learning about career fields I had never heard of like biomedical engineering. The more I explored this field, the more I felt a connection between all the pieces of my identity, such as my curiosity, my love for innovation, and my empathy for others all united. Biomedical engineering wasn’t just a major but it was a path that felt like it had been waiting for me all along. I began diving deeper, using AI tools to research programs, understand college admissions, and compare schools with strong biomedical engineering departments. As the oldest daughter who grew distant from any cousins, I had no experience but knew I was responsible of shaping my family’s future. I created spreadsheets and drafted personal statements, all with the support of a tool that so many in my generation overlook or misuse. I never asked AI to do the work for me. I asked it to do the work with me, using it as a friend and a guide to assist my effort. That’s what makes my relationship with AI different. I don’t use it to escape the challenge of learning. I use it to deepen it. To open doors I didn’t know existed. To ask questions that push me, not protect me. In a world where technology is often used to cut corners, I’ve used it to build foundations and understand who I am and what I am destined to do. Now, as I prepare to enter my senior year of high school, and eventually college, I carry a strong sense of self. I know what drives me. I know what kind of learner I am. And I know that the same creative, hands-on, people-loving mind that once felt out of place now has a future in a field that blends my love for innovation with building an impact in my community. AI helped me discover my passion, and using that clarity I’m not just planning a future. I’m building one.