During the past couple of years, when many social justice issues started to receive considerable attention in mainstream media, I began the long-awaited process of planning my future. I tried to seek out a path where I could pursue an education that would place me on the frontlines of improvement instead of being an onlooker to the issues that plague the communities I identify with. I’ve always wanted to have a lasting effect on my country, but until I stumbled upon law, I never quite knew how I would get from a high school student to a changemaker. Through meeting a non-profit team leader, volunteering, and advocating for current issues in my community, I quickly realized that the career that would make me the happiest would involve helping others. I am fortunate to have been raised in a household where my family taught me always to choose a path in life that would make me happy. Luckily for me, education does. Since kindergarten, I would run up the sidewalk to my school energized and prepared to learn the most I possibly could that day. Although I walk just a little slower now that I’m in high school, I still carry that attitude when learning, and I’ll continue to do the same in college and beyond. Higher education is essential to me because skills are taught and refined that lead directly to opportunities in every field. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. This moment is my proudest.

When I picked the memoir “In The Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado for my AP Language and Composition final project, I had no idea the impact positive support would have on my identity and role in my school community. Asked to present a mini-memoir on a personal experience or moment in my life that connected to the memoir I read, I knew exactly what story I would tell and what quality I would portray that day: bravery. “In The Dream House” is Machado’s acknowledgment of society’s silence regarding the complexity of queer identities and relationships, and just as she had, I decided to write my own narrative. Thus, on final exam day, I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. By taking control of my story, I have shaped my experience in school. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues with my desired course of study, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. To do so, I must be brave.

During the past couple of years, when many social justice issues started to receive considerable attention in mainstream media, I began the long-awaited process of planning my future. I tried to seek out a path where I could pursue an education that would place me on the frontlines of improvement instead of being an onlooker to the issues that plague the communities I identify with. I’ve always wanted to have a lasting effect on my country, but until I stumbled upon law, I never quite knew how I would get from a high school student to a changemaker. Through meeting a non-profit team leader, volunteering, and advocating for current issues in my community, I quickly realized that the career that would make me the happiest would involve helping others. I am fortunate to have been raised in a household where my family taught me always to choose a path in life that would make me happy. Luckily for me, education does. Since kindergarten, I would run up the sidewalk to my school energized and prepared to learn the most I possibly could that day. Although I walk just a little slower now that I’m in high school, I still carry that attitude when learning, and I’ll continue to do the same in college and beyond. I especially show this part of me when reading. I read my all-time favorite book in September 2020. While I loved the romance and drama aspects, the main reason this book remains my favorite after a year and a half is because it developed my passion for writing. This is how reading has shaped my goals: it has introduced my love of research and inquisition. Without further ado, the book that has had the greatest impact on my life is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. Set in 1955 when email is new, Selin, daughter of Turkish immigrants, begins corresponding with an older math student, Ivan. Their complexity of language and concepts exchanged serve to illustrate the way each views the world. At the beginning of their relationship, they only use email; however, much is lost when they start to move to in-person communication. This really influenced my perception of writing and the thoughts that one cannot say out loud. I’ve used creative writing to relieve stress since high school began, so this interpretation of language really resonated with me. The Idiot teaches readers the relationship between love and language and how this forms one's identity. Selin wants to become a writer, and her talent is made apparent in the style of her emails. She is very particular and organized, contrasting with Ivan’s spontaneous personality. Many times their emails are not communication at all; rather, each tells stories that do not respond to the previous email sent. In a way, their relationship is a platform for constant acceptance of and motivation to create individual ideas. Selin and Ivan’s distinct personalities that came together through a form of writing has played a pivotal role in how I understand the world around me. Not only do I see language as playing an essential role in society, I now shape my character and relationships around it. Like Selin, I have uncovered a major part of who I am through my writing. I've realized, through this novel, that I love to research and expand on my knowledge I have gained from real-world experiences. This has compelled me to go into a law field and to use these skills I am developing to help others.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. I hope to become a leader of a queer organization and provide advice and resources to LGBTQ+ teens.

I started volunteering at my city’s local farmers market in June of 2020, and it quickly became my happy place. The atmosphere of neighbors coming together and vendors connecting with the community continually fuels my desire to visit, and giving back to this euphoric place is how I best learned the impact of service. Every Saturday I have free from June to October is devoted to three hours at the farmers market, plus an extra half hour to walk around and be a customer myself. Forming relationships with Elliott (our fantastic Market Manager) and other volunteers never stops showing me the true value of volunteering, and helping people of all ages, from kids with a healthy-eating program and adults with general questions, exposes me to many forms of gratitude and kindness. Managing a program that was otherwise unfamiliar to me was also a great learning experience as I had to adapt quickly to a fast-paced environment, but my dedication paid off when I signed the first family up. Deflecting difficult questions that visitors had to a more seasoned volunteer motivated me to develop an understanding of the ins and outs of the market so that I too could aid in solving confusion. By playing a role in the culture of this local event, I have positively affected my community, especially by encouraging kids to eat healthy. The Tosa Farmers Market taught me the importance of service and community relationships that has and will continue to be reflected in how I impact my community.

When I was younger, I had a board used as a hard surface to aid in writing. Instead of its actual purpose, it became my art board. I would take a marker and scribble, illegibly, on the board. Looking at it now, you can hardly see its original color. Dashes and shapes fill every square inch. I laugh now, imagining the parent's dismay at my artwork. But this freedom to express myself that I developed as a child is still apparent. My favorite hobby is making really bad art. You may think, "I'm sure it can't be that bad," but with no training and my only practice being the scribbling of my youth, I can assure you that it's bad. But I've learned not to care. Art is an expression of my thoughts and feelings, and nobody else needs to get it except me. During the first quarantine due to the pandemic, I took up painting. It helped me have something worth getting out of bed for. I painted the Avengers logos for my english teacher, and a brain for my psychology teacher. While I never gifted the paintings, they sit in my room reminding me of the pandemic and how the paintings helped me stay in touch with my favorite mentors, despite the distance. I ran out of supplies and artistic imagination recently, and so I started making collages out of unused magazines. I love making these because I can be very creative and free to express myself however I want. I've made a couple of these thus far, including one of my interpretation of America. Even if nobody else understands the way I pasted pictures together, to me it tells a story. It takes me back to my childhood when I cut out shapes and scribble on the magazine paper. Art is so accessible and can be accommodated to fit any occasion. With many forms and the ability to share your work with others, it is my favorite hobby.

When I was younger, I had a board used as a hard surface to aid in writing. Instead of its actual purpose, it became my art board. I would take a marker and scribble, illegibly, on the board. Looking at it now, you can hardly see its original color. Dashes and shapes fill every square inch. I laugh now, imagining the parent's dismay at my artwork. But this freedom to express myself that I developed as a child is still apparent. My favorite hobby by making really bad art. You may think, "I'm sure it can't be that bad," but with no training and my only practice being the scribbling of my youth, I can assure you that it's bad. But I've learned not to care. Art is an expression of my thoughts and feelings, and nobody else needs to get it except me. During the first quarantine due to the pandemic, I took up painting. It helped me have something worth getting out of bed for. I painted the Avengers logos for my english teacher, and a brain for my psychology teacher. While I never gifted the paintings, they sit in my room reminding me of the pandemic and how the paintings helped me stay in touch with my favorite mentors, despite the distance. I ran out of supplies and artistic imagination recently, and so I started making collages out of unused magazines. I love making these because I can be very creative and free to express myself however I want. It takes me back to my childhood when I cut out shapes and scribble on the magazine paper. Art is everywhere, making it the perfect hobby applicable for every occasion.

I read my all-time favorite book in September 2020. While I loved the romance and drama aspects, the main reason this book remains my favorite after a year and a half is because it developed my passion for writing. This is how I believe writing can make positive change in the world: its impact on others to create their own stories. The cycle is endless. Without further ado, the book that has had the greatest impact on my life is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. Set in 1955 when email is new, Selin, daughter of Turkish immigrants, begins corresponding with an older math student, Ivan. Their complexity of language and concepts exchanged serve to illustrate the way each views the world. At the beginning of their relationship, they only use email; however, much is lost when they start to move to in-person communication. This really influenced my perception of writing and the thoughts that one cannot say out loud. I’ve used creative writing to relieve stress since high school began, so this interpretation of language really resonated with me. The Idiot teaches readers the relationship between love and language and how this forms one's identity. Selin wants to become a writer, and her talent is made apparent in the style of her emails. She is very particular and organized, contrasting with Ivan’s spontaneous personality. Many times their emails are not communication at all; rather, each tells stories that do not respond to the previous email sent. In a way, their relationship is a platform for constant acceptance of and motivation to create individual ideas. Selin and Ivan’s distinct personalities that came together through a form of writing has played a pivotal role in how I understand the world around me. Not only do I see language as playing an essential role in society, I now shape my character and relationships around it. Like Selin, I have uncovered a major part of who I am through my writing. Selin and Ivan’s relationship to writing encouraged me to write my own stories. While I prefer poetry, and have written more of those than I can count, I also wrote a mini-memoir for my English class inspired by the vulnerability Selin displayed to Ivan. It was a story of my bravery, a story about my journey. Using the mini-memoir as a catalyst, I came out to my english class as queer. Elif Batuman’s writing, along with the memoir In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, influenced my decision to narrate my own story. I am confident to assume that these two brilliant novels have done the same for many others. The books that we read motivate others to create their own stories because of the bravery in between the lines. If not for previous authors, future authors may never have experienced the relief of writing and how much is gained through this method of discovery.

When I was younger, I had a board used as a hard surface to aid in writing. Instead of its actual purpose, it became my art board. I would take a marker and scribble, illegibly, on the board. Looking at it now, you can hardly see its original color. Dashes and shapes fill every square inch. I laugh now, imagining the parent's dismay at my artwork. But this freedom to express myself that I developed as a child is still apparent. I apply creativity (defined loosely here) by making really bad art. You may think, "I'm sure it can't be that bad," but with no training and my only practice being the scribbling of my youth, I can assure you that it's bad. But I've learned not to care. Art is an expression of my thoughts and feelings, and nobody else needs to get it except me. During the first quarantine due to the pandemic, I took up painting. It helped me have something worth getting out of bed for. I painted the Avengers logos for my english teacher, and a brain for my psychology teacher. While I never gifted the paintings, they sit in my room reminding me of the pandemic and how the paintings helped me stay in touch with my favorite mentors, despite the distance. I ran out of supplies and artistic imagination recently, and so I started making collages out of unused magazines. I love making these because I can be very creative and free to express myself however I want. It takes me back to my childhood when I cut out shapes and scribble on the magazine paper. And I think to myself, "maybe I am creative after all."

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. I hope to become a leader of a queer organization and provide advice and resources to LGBTQ+ teens.

When I picked the memoir “In The Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado for my AP Language and Composition final project, I had no idea the impact positive support would have on my identity and role in my school community. Asked to present a mini-memoir on a personal experience or moment in my life that connected to the memoir I read, I knew exactly what story I would tell. “In The Dream House” is Machado’s acknowledgment of society’s silence regarding the complexity of queer identities and relationships, and just as she had, I decided to write my own narrative. Thus, on final exam day, I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. By taking control of my story, I have shaped my experience in school. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues with my desired course of study, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. To do so, I plan to create or join a non-profit organization helping LGBTQ+ youth with resources and advice that I would have benefitted from.

My bookshelf has always been my favorite aspect of my room, and nothing helps me relax more than pulling a lengthy novel off of my overflowing bookshelf. Similarly, the library of my hometown is my favorite place in the city, and from the time I could read, you could find me scouring the children’s section aisles, and now the adult section, for the next addition to my reading list. Checking a book off my ever-growing list and curling up in one of the many sofas in the library while waiting for my dad continues to be my favorite tradition. Reading not only introduces me to imaginary settings and new places that allow my mind to slip away from the chaos of real life, but teaches its own important lessons and realizations that aid in my self-discovery. Reading is my outlet for stress that comes with being a high school student. Focusing on the bigger picture through books has made me more happy and mentally healthy than everything else combined. From when I was in elementary school, to now, reading has and always will be the activity I turn to when in need of some light.

When I picked the memoir “In The Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado for my AP Language and Composition final project, I had no idea how much I would learn about my identity and character. Asked to present a mini-memoir on a personal experience or moment in my life that connected to the memoir I read, I knew exactly what story I would tell. “In The Dream House” is Machado’s acknowledgment of society’s silence regarding the complexity of queer identities and relationships, and just as she had, I decided to write my own narrative. Thus, on final exam day, I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. This act of exposing an intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. This act of exposing an intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could" is the sentence I would share with the world, and the quote I hope would be chosen to represent me should I become famous. This sentence means so much to me because of the story behind it, but even without knowing the story it has a powerful connotation. It tells the listener that to gain a deeper understanding of how to strengthen their self-trust in order to take risks relative to their individuality, they must defy the limits previously established for protection against fear. To be brave is to be wise.

My bookshelf has always been my favorite aspect of my room, and nothing excites me more than the piled books on overflowing shelves. Similarly, the library of my hometown is my favorite place in the city, and from the time I could read, you could find me scouring the children’s section aisles, and now the adult section, for the next addition to my reading list. Literature is an integral part of who I am, and most of my perceptions about life stem from the literature I have gained knowledge from. The Idiot by Elif Batuman, my favorite book, exposed me to the relationship between love and language and how this forms individual identities, while Scared Selfless by Michelle Stevens taught me that overcoming hardships leads to growth and exploration. Reading not only introduces me to imaginary settings and new places but teaches its own important lessons and realizations, aiding in my self-discovery. Reading is my outlet for stress that comes with being a high school student. Focusing on the bigger picture through books has made me more happy than everything else combined. From when I was in elementary school, to now, reading has and always will be the activity I turn to when in need of some light.

I started volunteering at my city’s local farmers market (Tosa Farmers Market) in June of 2020, and it quickly became my happy place. The atmosphere of neighbors coming together and vendors connecting with the community continually fuels my desire to visit, and giving back to this euphoric place is how I best learned the impact of service. Every Saturday I have free from June to October is devoted to three hours at the farmers market, plus an extra half hour to walk around and be a customer myself. In total, I have completed 20 hours of service here, and I am looking forward to continuing to volunteer every summer. I’ve had many opportunities to learn during this event, and I am confident that there are many more to come. Forming relationships with Elliott (our fantastic Market Manager) and other volunteers never stops showing me the true value of volunteering, and helping people of all ages, from kids with a healthy-eating program and adults with general questions, exposes me to many forms of gratitude and kindness. Managing a program that was otherwise unfamiliar to me was also a great learning experience as I had to adapt quickly to a fast-paced environment, but my dedication paid off when I signed the first family up. Deflecting difficult questions that visitors had to a more seasoned volunteer motivated me to develop an understanding of the ins and outs of the market so that I too could aid in solving confusion. By playing a role in the culture of this local event, I have positively affected my community, especially by encouraging kids to eat healthy. The Tosa Farmers Market taught me the importance of service and community relationships that has and will continue to be reflected in how I impact those around me. Having a voice and representation in how my community comes together and shares experiences is the most influential experience I have had through my time serving in this position at the farmers market. Seeing all of the connections and relationships formed truly showed me the power of community, and continues to influence these aspects of my character even in the off season. Looking back on the many people I have met and the great opportunities I have had through volunteering for the market, I can understand exactly what role I play in my society. Giving back to the community means that, regardless of who someone is, they are welcome and supported by all, and this is what I love best about community.

The book I have most enjoyed reading and has had the greatest impact on my life is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. Set in 1955 when email is new, Selin, daughter of Turkish immigrants, begins corresponding with an older math student, Ivan. Their complexity of language and concepts exchanged serve to illustrate the way each views the world. At the beginning of their relationship, they only use email; however, much is lost when they start to move to in-person communication. This really influenced my perception of writing and the thoughts that one cannot say out loud. I’ve used creative writing to relieve stress since high school began, so this interpretation of language really resonated with me. The Idiot teaches readers the relationship between love and language and how this forms one's identity. Selin wants to become a writer, and her talent is made apparent in the style of her emails. She is very particular and organized, contrasting with Ivan’s spontaneous personality. Many times their emails are not communication at all; rather, each tells stories that do not respond to the previous email sent. In a way, their relationship is a platform for constant acceptance of and motivation to create individual ideas. Selin and Ivan’s distinct personalities that came together through a form of writing has played a pivotal role in how I understand the world around me. Not only do I see language as playing an essential role in society, I now shape my character and relationships around it. Like Selin, I have uncovered a major part of who I am through my writing.

The book I have most enjoyed reading and has had the greatest impact on my life is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. Set in 1955 when email is new, Selin, daughter of Turkish immigrants, begins corresponding with an older math student, Ivan. Their complexity of language and concepts exchanged serve to illustrate the way each views the world. At the beginning of their relationship, they only use email; however, much is lost when they start to move to in-person communication. This really influenced my perception of writing and the thoughts that one cannot say out loud. I’ve used creative writing to relieve stress since high school began, so this interpretation of language really resonated with me. The Idiot teaches readers the relationship between love and language and how this forms one's identity. Selin wants to become a writer, and her talent is made apparent in the style of her emails. She is very particular and organized, contrasting with Ivan’s spontaneous personality. Many times their emails are not communication at all; rather, each tells stories that do not respond to the previous email sent. In a way, their relationship is a platform for constant acceptance of and motivation to create individual ideas. Selin and Ivan’s distinct personalities that came together through a form of writing has played a pivotal role in how I understand the world around me. Not only do I see language as playing an essential role in society, I now shape my character and relationships around it. Like Selin, I have uncovered a major part of who I am through my writing.

During the past couple of years, when many social justice issues started to receive considerable attention in mainstream media, I began the long-awaited process of planning my future. I tried to seek out a path where I could pursue an education that would place me on the frontlines of improvement instead of being an onlooker to the issues that plague the communities I identify with. I’ve always wanted to have a lasting effect on my country, but until I stumbled upon law, I never quite knew how I would get from a high school student to a changemaker. Through meeting a non-profit team leader, volunteering, and advocating for current issues in my community, I quickly realized that the career that would make me the happiest would involve helping others. My biggest goal, at the moment, is to achieve higher education so that one day it'll lead to a career that makes me happy. Higher education is essential to me because skills are taught and refined that lead directly to opportunities in every field. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues, college and law school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. I plan to achieve these dreams through educating myself and in turn, educating others.

I stood in front of my 11th grade AP Language class reciting a mini-memoir telling of a journey, a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of another fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. And I am confident that I will continue to live boldly, by being myself and fighting for others in the community, for the rest of my life.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues with my desired course of study, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. To do so, I plan to create or join a non-profit organization helping LGBTQ+ youth with resources and advice that I would have benefitted from, and because of this dream, I plan to seek a major in which I can learn about human rights and history. To be honest, the Countries of the World Quiz on the quiz website JetPunk - a test of memorizing obscure names of places never before heard of - introduced my love of global connections and relationships that I was looking for ever since my AP Language mini-memoir. I plan to pursue a major in political science because of the vast array of international opportunities in the field and my curiosity about human behavior influences in societies worldwide. Ever since my first time attempting this challenging quiz, I have slowly begun to understand how each country impacts those around it, and my interest in the contributions of American politics to these correlations has increased tremendously. By broadening my knowledge of government, political science studies will continue to motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me, and this I hope to accomplish through the continuation of my education in law school and a career in a law-related field. Along this path, I aspire to make connections and relationships with people in my community.

During the past couple of years, when many social justice issues started to receive considerable attention in mainstream media, I began the long-awaited process of planning my future. I tried to seek out a path where I could pursue an education that would place me on the frontlines of improvement instead of being an onlooker to the issues that plague the communities I identify with. I’ve always wanted to have a lasting effect on my country, but until I stumbled upon law, I never quite knew how I would get from a high school student to a changemaker. Through meeting a non-profit team leader, volunteering, and advocating for current issues in my community, I quickly realized that the career that would make me the happiest would involve helping others. I am fortunate to have been raised in a household where my family taught me always to choose a path in life that would make me happy. Luckily for me, education does. Since kindergarten, I would run up the sidewalk to my school energized and prepared to learn the most I possibly could that day. Although I walk just a little slower now that I’m in high school, I still carry that attitude when learning, and I’ll continue to do the same in college and beyond. Higher education is essential to me because skills are taught and refined that lead directly to opportunities in every field. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth.

It’s surprising that I never wanted to play volleyball, considering how instrumental it has been in developing my character. In sixth grade, I didn’t sign up for volleyball tryouts. It was my first year of middle school, and so many opportunities to try out for sports were in front of me. Nonetheless, my negative experience with gym class volleyball heavily impacted my decision. The following week, however, an old family friend coaching the sixth-grade team reached out to my parents and asked me to try out, as they did not have enough players for a team. Thus, I tried out. Qualifying for the A team connected me with friends I would never have met otherwise, and I still am in touch with most of them today. Eventually, looking back on that year as I stepped onto the court at my first varsity volleyball game my freshman year of high school, it was unreal to think that a seemingly insignificant coincidence led me to find a profoundly meaningful activity. All four years of high school, I played for the varsity girls volleyball team as the starting libero, which meant that I was in all game, every game. I also was fortunate to have been selected by my coach as head captain during the last two seasons of my high school career. Volleyball has been my entire life since I was 12 years old, and I will have separation anxiety come next season when I watch the underclassmen continue without me from my college dorm. Despite how I may feel next fall, it will be nothing compared to what I have learned throughout my time on the team. Ultimately, being the only freshman on a team full of upperclassmen was overwhelming at first, but this genuinely supportive group of girls helped me transition from middle school to high school. I learned trivial lessons like how to roll my socks, but I also mastered calming myself down in an adrenaline-inducing atmosphere and speaking up for myself. Through many interactions with coaches and referees, I realized that I am not only capable of fighting for what I believe in but fighting for others as well. I’ve often had to respectfully argue with a referee on a call that I disagreed with, which has inspired me to go into the law field and continue to seek justice, however big or small. I plan to use my experiences in high-pressure settings to further my education and career as an aspiring lawyer. Hearing feedback from my team, I have recognized my impact on the volleyball program in the same way the upperclassmen had on me during my very first varsity year. My greatest wish is that the advice I have given will continue to be passed down to inspire others to reach for their dreams. That is what leadership means to me: putting others' needs above your own so that they can learn from your experiences and one day pass their own down. Being a leader is not just the designation, it's the learning process way before that even happens. My coach selected me as team captain Junior year, but I was an unofficial leader before then, making sure that the teammates around me had everything they needed to play their best. It’s extremely important that every academic, athletic, and social community has a leader because they are responsible for teaching and influencing those around them in a positive manner. Leaders have a multitude of experiences that, by passing down, create future leaders; and the cycle keeps on going.

When I picked the memoir “In The Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado for my AP Language and Composition final project, I had no idea the impact positive support would have on my identity and role in my school community. Asked to present a mini-memoir on a personal experience or moment in my life that connected to the memoir I read, I knew exactly what story I would tell. “In The Dream House” is Machado’s acknowledgment of society’s silence regarding the complexity of queer identities and relationships, and just as she had, I decided to write my own narrative. Thus, on final exam day, I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. By taking control of my story, I have shaped my experience in school. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues with my desired course of study, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. To do so, I plan to create or join a non-profit organization helping LGBTQ+ youth with resources and advice that I would have benefitted from.

It’s surprising that I never wanted to play volleyball, considering how instrumental it has been in developing my character. In sixth grade, I didn’t sign up for volleyball tryouts. It was my first year of middle school, and so many opportunities to try out for sports were in front of me. Nonetheless, my negative experience with gym class volleyball heavily impacted my decision. The following week, however, an old family friend coaching the sixth-grade team reached out to my parents and asked me to try out, as they did not have enough players for a team. Thus, I tried out. Qualifying for the A team connected me with friends I would never have met otherwise, and I still am in touch with most of them today. Eventually, looking back on that year as I stepped onto the court at my first varsity volleyball game my freshman year of high school, it was unreal to think that a seemingly insignificant coincidence led me to find a profoundly meaningful activity. All four years of high school, I played for the varsity girls volleyball team as the starting libero, which meant that I was in all game, every game. I also was fortunate to have been selected by my coach as head captain during the last two seasons of my high school career. Volleyball has been my entire life since I was 12 years old, and I will have separation anxiety come next season when I watch the underclassmen continue without me from my college dorm. Despite how I may feel next fall, it will be nothing compared to what I have learned throughout my time on the team. Ultimately, being the only freshman on a team full of upperclassmen was overwhelming at first, but this genuinely supportive group of girls helped me transition from middle school to high school. I learned trivial lessons like how to roll my socks, but I also mastered calming myself down in an adrenaline-inducing atmosphere and speaking up for myself. Through many interactions with coaches and referees, I realized that I am not only capable of fighting for what I believe in but fighting for others as well. That is what leadership means to me: putting others' needs above your own so that they can learn from your experiences and one day pass their own down. Being a leader is not just the designation, it's the learning process way before that even happens. My coach selected me as team captain Junior year, but I was an unofficial leader before then, making sure that the teammates around me had everything they needed to play their best. It’s extremely important that every academic, athletic, and social community has a leader because they are responsible for teaching and influencing those around them in a positive manner. Leaders have a multitude of experiences that, by passing down, create future leaders; and the cycle keeps on going.

When I picked the memoir “In The Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado for my AP Language and Composition final project, I had no idea the impact positive support would have on my identity and role in my school community. Asked to present a mini-memoir on a personal experience or moment in my life that connected to the memoir I read, I knew exactly what story I would tell. “In The Dream House” is Machado’s acknowledgment of society’s silence regarding the complexity of queer identities and relationships, and just as she had, I decided to write my own narrative. Thus, on final exam day, I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a page typed the week prior. “Although it takes every ounce of strength I have to tell my story, I’ve learned that being vulnerable teaches tenfold what being safe ever could,” I announced to 20 of my peers, battling my trembling hands under the podium I took cover behind. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. By taking control of my story, I have shaped my experience in school. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues with my desired course of study, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth. To do so, I plan to create or join a non-profit organization helping LGBTQ+ youth with resources and advice that I would have benefitted from

During the past couple of years, when many social justice issues started to receive considerable attention in mainstream media, I began the long-awaited process of planning my future. I tried to seek out a path where I could pursue an education that would place me on the frontlines of improvement instead of being an onlooker to the issues that plague the communities I identify with. I’ve always wanted to have a lasting effect on my country, but until I stumbled upon law, I never quite knew how I would get from a high school student to a changemaker. Through meeting a non-profit team leader, volunteering, and advocating for current issues in my community, I quickly realized that the career that would make me the happiest would involve helping others. I am fortunate to have been raised in a household where my family taught me always to choose a path in life that would make me happy. Luckily for me, education does. Since kindergarten, I would run up the sidewalk to my school energized and prepared to learn the most I possibly could that day. Although I walk just a little slower now that I’m in high school, I still carry that attitude when learning, and I’ll continue to do the same in college and beyond. Higher education is essential to me because skills are taught and refined that lead directly to opportunities in every field. By broadening my knowledge of the world and current issues, college and graduate school will motivate me to acknowledge varying perspectives working to develop the society around me. In turn I can contribute my own to help others. My biggest ambition is to work to protect the human rights of everyone, but especially share my own knowledge and experiences on LGBTQ+ subjects with local youth.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. I hope to become a leader of a queer organization and provide advice and resources to LGBTQ+ teens.

I started volunteering at my city’s local farmers market in June of 2020, and it quickly became my happy place. The atmosphere of neighbors coming together and vendors connecting with the community continually fuels my desire to visit, and giving back to this euphoric place is how I best learned the impact of service. Every Saturday I have free from June to October is devoted to three hours at the farmers market, plus an extra half hour to walk around and be a customer myself. Forming relationships with Elliott (our fantastic Market Manager) and other volunteers never stops showing me the true value of volunteering, and helping people of all ages, from kids with a healthy-eating program and adults with general questions, exposes me to many forms of gratitude and kindness. Managing a program that was otherwise unfamiliar to me was also a great learning experience as I had to adapt quickly to a fast-paced environment, but my dedication paid off when I signed the first family up. Deflecting difficult questions that visitors had to a more seasoned volunteer motivated me to develop an understanding of the ins and outs of the market so that I too could aid in solving confusion. By playing a role in the culture of this local event, I have positively affected my community, especially by encouraging kids to eat healthy. The Tosa Farmers Market taught me the importance of service and community relationships that has and will continue to be reflected in how I impact my community.

I stood before my 11th grade AP Language class, reciting a mini-memoir, a page typed the week prior. Voice unwavering, I confessed of a fear: one that, through my recitation, I began finding the courage to combat. Using the written memoir as a catalyst, I came out as queer. While I had been out to all of my friends before that day in class, the act of exposing this intimate fear to a large group of people that I wasn’t on a personal level with signaled success on my journey of queerness and truly pushed me to continue seeking opportunities for self-growth that at one point I thought would be impossible. Immediately after my performance, absorbing the positive reactions flashing up at me, I was overwhelmed with relief that I had once again conquered a life-controlling fear. My experiences coming out as a queer woman, especially in atypical settings, have taught me that vulnerability is necessary for moving forward and defining life on my own terms. Defying the limits I had previously established for protection against fear, I gained a deeper understanding of how to strengthen my self-trust in order to take risks relative to my individuality. My coming out will not be limited by this singular feat, instead reinforced by a lifetime of challenging discussions for which my previous experiences are preparation. No longer was I restricted by fears of being myself, and I now have access to opportunities I would have never dreamed of being able to. I hope to become a leader of a queer organization and provide advice and resources to LGBTQ+ teens.