From the time I was young, I have been fascinated by the living world around me. I was the child who would stop mid-walk to study a line of ants or take notes on the wildflowers growing at the edge of the trail. That curiosity naturally grew into a passion for science, which led me to pursue a degree in Biological and Biomedical Sciences. For me, STEM is more than a career path. It is a way of seeing the world, asking questions, and discovering solutions that can make a real impact. Choosing to pursue STEM came from both my love for nature and my determination to be part of something bigger than myself. As a woman entering a field where female representation has historically been limited, I see my presence as both a personal victory and a step forward for inclusivity. Representation matters. When women see other women in STEM, it challenges stereotypes, inspires confidence, and opens doors for future generations. By committing myself to this field, I want to play a role not only in advancing science but also in reshaping what a scientist looks like. My long-term goal is to become a wildlife biologist and advocate for conservation. This path blends scientific discovery with environmental stewardship, two areas I care deeply about. In a time when climate change and habitat loss threaten ecosystems worldwide, we need scientists who are ready to find solutions and speak for those who cannot speak for themselves. As a woman in STEM, I hope to contribute to research that protects biodiversity and to share my findings in ways that make science accessible to the broader public. Science should not stay confined to laboratories or journals; it should empower communities to take action. Beyond research, I want to mentor other young women who are considering STEM but may feel discouraged by barriers or doubts. I know firsthand that self-doubt is one of the biggest obstacles many women face in male-dominated fields. By fostering confidence, building supportive communities, and encouraging curiosity, I believe we can create an environment where women feel empowered to pursue their passions without hesitation. Just as others have encouraged me, I want to extend that encouragement forward. Being a woman in STEM is not only about pursuing personal goals, but also about driving impact. Diversity of thought and experience strengthens scientific progress, and women bring unique perspectives to the questions we ask and the solutions we design. By combining ambition with compassion, I hope to leave a mark not only through the knowledge I contribute, but also through the inspiration I provide to the next generation of women in STEM. Ultimately, I chose STEM because it allows me to pair my curiosity with purpose. Science challenges me, excites me, and pushes me to grow in ways I never imagined. As a woman in STEM, I want to prove that gender should never define ability or limit opportunity. With persistence, passion, and collaboration, I believe women can help shape the future of science and I am determined to be one of them.

Growing up mixed, part white and part Filipina, meant I was always living in between. I didn’t fit into either side of my identity, and that left me feeling out of place in every room I entered. I didn’t have one defining moment of adversity. Instead, it was a build of small moments with lasting impacts: subtle exclusions, inappropriate jokes, and being made to feel like my identity wasn’t valid. In school, people didn’t know how to categorize me. I was too “white” to be seen as Asian, and too Asian to be seen as fully white. Once, during a classroom news segment about a terrorist attack involving an Asian suspect, a classmate turned to me and mockingly asked, “Is that your dad?” I remember sitting in silence, burning with embarrassment, unsure whether to laugh it off or defend myself. I’ve been targeted with racial slurs because of my Asian heritage. People have squinted at me and asked, “What are you?” as if I were a puzzle they needed to solve. While some moments were more direct, others felt just as harmful in quieter ways. People often said I “only look white,” or “don’t even look Asian,” as if my heritage could be erased just because they couldn’t see it Then there were the comments like, “You look so exotic,” meant as compliments, but ultimately objectifying and alienating. It made me feel like I was valued only for being different, not for who I truly am. Sometimes people would just refer to me as white, completely ignoring the part of me that I am deeply connected to. My Filipina heritage is something I am very proud of. It connects me to my family, culture, and history. When it’s dismissed, it feels like a part of me is being erased. At times, I questioned whether I was “allowed” to claim being Asian at all, especially when others told me I wasn’t. But through these struggles, I’ve learned that identity is not something others get to define. My adversity wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was real, and it shaped me into someone who knows what it feels like to be misunderstood, to feel invisible, and to fight for belonging. To reclaim that space, I got involved. I joined my high school's multicultural student union and began participating in cultural nights. It quickly became a space where I felt seen and understood. Surrounded by others with mixed backgrounds, I no longer felt like the odd one out. Instead, I felt welcomed in a community where every identity was valued and all cultures were celebrated. It was the first time I truly felt like I belonged. I began speaking up more and educating people when they said something insensitive. I learned to honor both parts of myself and to never let anyone reduce me to half of who I am. This adversity made me stronger, but more importantly, it made me more compassionate. I want others who feel “in between” to know they are whole and valid just as they are. My advice to someone facing similar struggles is this: You don’t need to justify your identity to anyone. The parts of you that others don’t understand are still real and powerful. Surround yourself with people who uplift you and never stop speaking up for who you are. I carry these lessons with me as I continue my education and build the future I want, one where identity is celebrated, not questioned. What once made me feel divided now gives me strength. I’m not half of anything; I’m fully myself, and that’s enough.

When I was little, I would wander into the woods behind my house just to sit quietly and watch the birds, squirrels, and insects move around me. I wasn’t trying to study them; I just felt calm in their presence. Even now, nature feels like the only place where I can breathe deeply and feel fully grounded. I’ve always had a deep, almost spiritual connection to the natural world. That quiet love for animals and the earth has become something much larger: a lifelong mission to protect them through science, conservation, and care. I’m currently pursuing a biology major with a minor in wildlife and conservation. My coursework allows me to explore everything from animal physiology to ecosystem dynamics. Biology gives me the scientific foundation to understand how animals interact with their environment, while my conservation studies focus on how to protect those systems from harm. I’m especially interested in endangered species, habitat restoration, and wildlife rehabilitation, all areas where I know I can make a lasting impact. Through my work as a wildlife biologist, I plan to actively contribute to protecting endangered species by restoring ecosystems damaged by human activity and rehabilitating injured animals, nursing them back to health, and safely releasing them back into the wild. These efforts will directly improve animal welfare and promote biodiversity. My ultimate goal is to become a wildlife biologist focused on conservation. I want to work in the field, preserving threatened ecosystems and protecting species that are at risk of disappearing. A dream of mine is to start my own nature sanctuary and wildlife rehabilitation center. I envision a peaceful place where animals can recover from injuries, where native plants thrive again, and where young people can visit, ask questions, and see firsthand what it means to care for the earth. It wouldn’t just be a shelter; it would be a living example of what restoration and hope look like. Being a lesbian mixed Filipina woman in science makes this dream all the more personal. In many STEM spaces, I don’t often see people who look like me or share my background. But instead of being discouraged, it motivates me to become the kind of leader and scientist that younger queer people can look up to. Representation matters, and I want to help create a future where the conservation field is more inclusive, more compassionate, and more effective because of that diversity. I believe that hands-on conservation and education go hand in hand. The more people understand and appreciate nature, the more likely they are to protect it. Through my future career, I hope not only to restore damaged ecosystems and care for wildlife, but also to inspire others to form their own deep connection with the natural world. Whether it’s through outreach, volunteer programs, or mentorship, I want to give back what nature has given me: peace, purpose, and perspective. This scholarship would help support my education by covering tuition and essential materials like lab equipment and textbooks, allowing me to focus on building the knowledge and skills I need to succeed. As someone with big goals and a strong sense of purpose, I’m committed to using my career to make the world a better and more compassionate place for animals, the environment, and the people who care about both. Dr. Howard Hochman’s legacy is incredibly inspiring. Like him, I want to spend my life helping animals, not just because it’s a career, but because it’s my calling. With support from this scholarship, I can continue moving toward that dream, honoring the deep connection I've always felt to the natural world.

If an AI system were trained to understand and represent the Filipino American experience, I would want it to know that we are not just a dataset. We are stories passed down over meals, resilience shaped by migration, and strength that lives quietly in the way we love and care for each other. I would want it to understand that identity is not always clean or certain. Sometimes, it is complicated, confusing, and painful As a mixed-race Filipina American, I have often felt caught between worlds. People say I don’t “look Filipino” or that I’m not Filipino enough. These words leave a sting no algorithm can feel. AI could note these as trends, but it could never grasp the loneliness of not fully belonging. Yet, I am proud of my culture. It lives in the warmth of family gatherings filled with laughter and song, in the way my Lola prepared five-star meals for us, and in the generosity offered even when resources are scarce. These moments are not data points. They are love and resilience, and AI could never truly understand them. Filipino Americans remain underrepresented in higher education and STEM fields. Only 37 percent earn a bachelor’s degree, with even fewer U.S.-born Filipinos graduating. In science classrooms, I rarely see anyone who looks like me. I have struggled and failed, but I keep showing up because I believe I belong here, and I want others to feel that too. I am studying biology to become a wildlife biologist. I want to protect the earth and its creatures, driven by Filipino values of community, care, and responsibility. My culture fuels my passion for conservation and my desire to make a difference. No AI can feel the tension of chasing dreams where you feel isolated. It cannot know the relief of finding someone who shares your heritage or the courage it takes to persist despite doubt. AI can mimic language, but it cannot mimic hope. Hope is carried by families who work tirelessly, and the pride found in traditions like my Lola’s cultural foods, a taste of home and strength. My story is still unfolding, rooted in love and culture. This scholarship will help me continue my education and represent a community too often overlooked. I believe in a future where more Filipino American students thrive, and I am committed to helping build that future, starting with myself.

As secretary of my high school’s FFA chapter, I was fortunate to be part of a team that not only cared about agriculture and leadership, but about our connection to the environment and our community. One of the most meaningful experiences I had was participating in the Arbor Day celebration, an event organized by Keep Forsyth Beautiful and our county’s agricultural extension office. It was more than just planting a tree. It was a celebration of community, connection, and hope for the future. That afternoon, our FFA chapter joined local organizers, families, teachers, and neighbors on public land to plant a tree. It felt like the whole town came out to be part of something special. There was a bonfire where people gathered to make s’mores, a booth handing out free tree saplings for anyone who wanted to plant their own, and even hot cocoa to help warm our hands in the chilly weather. The atmosphere was joyful and relaxed as people were chatting, laughing, and taking pictures together. It was one of the few times I remember seeing such a diverse mix of people gathered simply to do something good for the earth. I helped place the young tree into the soil while a small crowd looked on, gently packing the dirt around its roots. It felt symbolic, as if we were planting hope itself. I also got to take home a sapling to plant in my own yard, which made me feel even more personally connected to the cause. Seeing so many people excited about preserving nature reminded me that we are capable of building a better future together, one small act at a time. Being part of that event made me realize how powerful it is when people come together with shared values. I felt deeply connected not just to my peers in FFA, but to the larger community and to the earth. If a simple act like planting a tree could bring people together like this, what else might we accomplish? My experience in FFA gave me many opportunities to serve and lead, from volunteering at food pantries to helping maintain our school garden, but this Arbor Day event left the deepest impression on me. As an officer, I had the chance to encourage others to get involved and to lead by example. I’ve learned that leadership doesn’t always look like being in the spotlight. It can be as simple and meaningful as showing up, getting your hands dirty, and planting something that will outlast you. This day continues to shape how I see the world. It showed me that community is built through connection, kindness, and shared action. The tree we planted may still be small, but it’s growing. Just like me. And just like that tree, I want to grow into someone who gives back, uplifts others, and helps build a future rooted in care and resilience.

Since high school, I’ve been committed to serving my community and protecting the environment. These are two values that continue to guide me and will shape my future long after college. As the former secretary of my high school’s FFA chapter in Georgia, I played a key role in organizing and participating in projects that made a meaningful, hands-on impact. I volunteered at food pantries, helped maintain a student garden, and joined one of my most memorable events: our local Arbor Day celebration, where we planted trees and gave away saplings to participants. That day, I saw people from all walks of life come together to celebrate nature. There was a bonfire for making s’mores, a booth handing out free saplings, and hot cocoa to warm our hands in the chilly weather. The atmosphere was joyful. People were laughing, chatting, and taking pictures together. I helped dig a hole and plant a tree on public land while a small crowd cheered us on. I still remember the hope I felt, knowing that the small tree we planted might grow for decades, just like our efforts to care for the world around us. Through FFA, I helped tend our school garden and packaged food at a local pantry for families in need. These experiences taught me how deeply connected people and nature are. They showed me that real change begins in our communities, with individuals who care enough to take action. Service, I learned, is not something you do once; it is something you carry with you. I want to bring that same spirit of growth and impact into my future career. After college, I plan to become a wildlife biologist. My dream is to work in conservation, protecting endangered species and preserving ecosystems that are vital to both wildlife and people. I believe conservation is not just about science. It is also about community. It is about making sure future generations still have forests to walk through, clean air to breathe, and species to marvel at. I hope to work on restoring habitats damaged by human activity and climate change. I envision myself tracking wildlife populations, conducting field research, and collaborating with local communities to develop sustainable conservation plans. I want my work to not only protect ecosystems but also empower people with the knowledge and tools to protect the planet. One of my long-term goals is to start a nonprofit that connects young people, especially women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and students of color, with hands-on opportunities in conservation and wildlife biology. I did not grow up seeing many scientists who looked like me, and I want to change that. I want others to know they too can be caretakers of the earth, researchers, and changemakers. I believe that education, representation, and access can transform not just individuals, but entire communities. Financial barriers shouldn’t stand in the way of that kind of impact. I’ve seen how hard it is for many students, including myself, to afford college, even when we’re deeply passionate and committed to helping others. That is why scholarships like this one mean so much. They do not just invest in a student’s future; they invest in the future of every life that student will impact. After college, I will continue planting seeds of hope through conservation, education, and community engagement. I want my work to reflect what I learned early on: that change is possible, and it often starts with just one person, one action, and one tree.