During my sophomore year of high school, I found myself completely overwhelmed. I was juggling IB coursework, leadership roles in Mock Trial and the Technology Student Association, soccer practice as a varsity player, and my volunteer commitments. At the same time, I was navigating the pressure of being one of the few Latinas in a mostly white, suburban school. I felt like I had to constantly prove myself, to fit in, to excel, to represent. I stopped checking in with myself. Sleep became a luxury, and I lost the energy and joy that usually drove me. One afternoon, after a long day of meetings, practices, and studying, I broke down in the school bathroom. There wasn’t one big thing that had gone wrong. I had simply reached my limit. That moment made me realize that I needed to pay attention to what I was feeling, not just keep pushing forward. I started setting boundaries, carving out time in the evening to pause and reflect. I turned to journaling to sort through my thoughts and emotions. I allowed myself to reconnect with things that made me feel steady, like music from Spain, quiet time with my mom, and long walks that gave me space to think. Mental health was never talked about openly in my family. My mom grew up in Spain, where she was raised to believe that feelings like anxiety or sadness weren’t something you shared out loud. When she moved to the U.S. and started from scratch, working full-time, earning her teaching degree, learning a new culture. She carried a quiet burden of stress that often went unspoken. Over time, she began to open up more. Seeing her take those steps made me realize that mental health doesn’t have to be hidden, and it gave me the courage to do the same. Since then, I’ve tried to make sure others around me feel safe enough to do that too. When I volunteer at Valverde Elementary, I bring books that show kids facing fears or frustrations and coming through with support. I ask them questions about how the characters feel and let them share their own thoughts through puppet play. I also check in with friends who are juggling a lot, and I’ve learned that sometimes just listening can make someone feel less alone. Making my health a priority helped me find balance again. I started enjoying school, leadership, and service in a fuller way. I felt more present, more focused, and more connected to the people around me. As I prepare for Emory University and a future in pediatric and women’s cardiology, I carry this awareness with me. What I’ve experienced has made me more thoughtful, more observant, and more committed to showing up for others in real and supportive ways.

Mental health is important to me because I’ve seen the consequences of silence around it. At home, I grew up with a mother who was raised in Spain where mental health was rarely discussed. In her community, emotions were meant to be buried and therapy was seen as weakness. When she moved to the United States in 2009, she brought those unspoken expectations with her. While she worked hard to build a better life for our family, she also carried a quiet burden. Stress, anxiety, and the pressure of starting over in a new country weighed heavily on her, but she had been taught to keep going without asking for help. As a child, I didn’t fully understand what she was facing. I only knew that the house felt heavy sometimes. I took on the role of being strong and dependable, which eventually turned into high expectations for myself. I wanted to succeed in school, lead clubs, play soccer, and support others. But in trying to be everything, I ignored my own stress. I thought feeling overwhelmed was just part of being a good student. For a long time, I didn’t feel like I could talk about anxiety or burnout because I had no model for what those conversations looked like. Over time, I realized that avoiding my emotions didn’t help anyone. I started checking in with myself more. I learned to recognize when I needed rest or support. More importantly, I started talking to my mom about what we had both been holding in. Slowly, we began changing the narrative in our own home. She opened up about her experiences, and I saw how freeing it was for both of us to finally speak honestly about the challenges we faced. That shift made me want to be someone who encourages others to do the same. At school, I lead with awareness and empathy. In the clubs I’m part of (Mock Trial, Technology Student Association, Mathletes), I make sure that people feel seen. I try to notice when someone is struggling and offer support without judgment. Whether it’s on the soccer field or in the classroom, I want my peers to know they’re not alone. Leadership to me means knowing when to speak and when to listen. My community service has also become a way to support mental health. At Valverde Elementary, I work with preschoolers using puppets and inclusive books to talk about feelings, identity, and the human body. I ask questions that invite them to name their emotions and reflect on their experiences. These moments are small but meaningful. They help children build emotional awareness early, something I wish I had learned when I was younger. Mental health deserves open conversations, early education, and compassionate support. As I pursue a career in medicine, I plan to carry those values forward. I want to build trust with my future patients and help break down the cultural stigmas that still exist in so many communities, starting with my own.

Strength and determination have shaped who I am. When my family moved from Spain to Denver in 2009, my parents left everything behind to build a life for us. I was just a baby, but as I grew up, I watched my mom navigate unfamiliar systems, learn a new language, and work tirelessly without a safety net. This resilience became the foundation of my own drive to succeed and give back. During my junior year of high school, our home was damaged in a flood, forcing my parents to take an early retirement distribution to cover the costs. This unexpected situation changed our financial standing on paper and significantly impacted the aid I would qualify for in college. It felt like years of hard work were suddenly at risk. But I refused to let that setback define my future. I began applying for scholarships, babysitting, coaching youth soccer, and doing everything I could to support my family and stay focused on my academic goals. Despite the pressure, I maintained my position as the top student in my class, stayed involved in multiple leadership roles, and continued volunteering. I’ve always found purpose in service. I created Blue Star Supplies to send educational materials to students in Honduras. I volunteer with children at Valverde Elementary, using puppets and culturally inclusive books to teach preschoolers about hygiene and identity. I’ve also worked with TOPS Soccer for four years, helping children with disabilities experience the joy of play in a welcoming space. These experiences require empathy, patience, and quiet strength, the kind that grows when you face hardship and choose to help others through theirs. I will attend Emory University this fall, majoring in biology on the pre-med track. My goal is to become a pediatric healthcare provider, and I bring with me the lessons of determination, compassion, and leadership I’ve built over the years. I want to care for children and families who feel overwhelmed or overlooked, especially those facing language, cultural, or financial barriers. Having lived through similar challenges, I know how powerful it can be to meet someone who truly understands. Pediatric care requires more than medical skill. It takes persistence, trust, and a deep belief in every child’s potential. I hope to create spaces where families feel supported and heard, where young patients feel safe and seen. I’ve already learned how to stay strong in the face of adversity. Now I want to use that strength to lift others, not just through medicine, but through kindness, mentorship, and hope.

My story begins in a one-bedroom apartment in Denver, where my mom and I started over after moving from Spain in 2009. I was barely one year old, and she, alongside my dad, had to start from zero in a new country with no network. I grew up watching her juggle multiple roles: working full-time, studying for her teaching degree from a U.S. college, and navigating a completely new education system. Her grit and sacrifice became my earliest lessons in resilience. They also formed the backbone of my motivation to pursue a career in pediatric and women’s cardiology and to use my STEM education to uplift others, especially those whose stories mirror mine. While my mother now teaches in Denver Public Schools and has built a life of service, our journey has been anything but easy. The challenges of adapting to a new country, rebuilding from scratch, and navigating unfamiliar systems left a lasting impact. In my junior year of high school, a flood in our home forced my parents to take an early IRA distribution, which unexpectedly inflated our income on paper and drastically reduced our expected financial aid. That one moment, completely beyond our control, reshaped my college planning experience. In response, I applied for countless scholarships, babysat, worked on weekends and coached youth soccer to ease the burden. It hasn’t been easy, but the experience taught me how to advocate for myself, fight for what I want, and trust that my story has power. In many ways, my background has fueled both my academic ambition and my community work. I’m graduating from Littleton High School as the top-ranked student in my class, an IB Diploma candidate with a weighted GPA of 4.816. I earned the Seal of Biliteracy in both Spanish and French and a STEM certificate. I’ve committed myself not only to STEM courses but also to helping others along the way. I founded a 60+ hour passion project called Blue Star Supplies, collecting and shipping educational materials to schools in Honduras. I also volunteer with CO Feeds Kids, Project CURE, and Valverde Elementary, where I use puppets and culturally inclusive books to teach preschoolers about hygiene, the human body, and identity. Working with underserved children has shown me how wide the gap in healthcare access truly is, especially for Spanish-speaking families, children with disabilities, or low-income communities. Through TOPS Soccer, I’ve volunteered for four years helping children with disabilities experience the joy of play, creating a safe, judgment-free space for them to move, connect, and smile. These moments have cemented my desire to become a physician, especially to make a difference, to be a role model for young girls who have never seen a Latina in a white coat. My passion for STEM was sparked early ... long before I could pronounce “mitochondria.” I remember receiving a toy doctor kit as a toddler and immediately treating Trompita, my pink stuffed elephant, as my first patient. That moment grew into a fascination with biology and human anatomy, and over time, it transformed into a commitment to science, service, and advocacy. I see STEM as a way to solve real-world problems that affect people’s lives. I want to be the kind of doctor who understands complex medical science but also makes patients feel understood. I’ve also always found power in mentorship. Whether leading mock trial as co-president, helping younger girls in mathletes, or using puppets to connect with shy preschoolers, I find joy in lifting others up. In high school, I often felt isolated as one of the few Latinas in a mostly white, suburban school. I had to overcome cultural assumptions and even direct rejection because of my mom’s accent or my background. But those experiences didn’t make me bitter. They made me bold. They taught me the importance of representation and inclusion, especially in medicine, where many patients feel unseen or unheard. Looking ahead, I will be attending Emory University to pursue a college-level STEM education. There, I plan to major in neuroscience or biology on the pre-med track. I chose Emory not just for its academic excellence but because of its strong commitment to community outreach and public health. I want to study how trauma, socioeconomic status, and culture intersect in pediatric and women’s heart care. I hope to contribute to research on developmental disparities and eventually work in a hospital where I can advocate for equitable care policies. Long-term, I hope to return to communities like mine and start bilingual wellness clinics focused on preventive care, mental health, and family education. Ultimately, I see this scholarship as a recognition of everything my family and I have worked so hard to overcome. It would help me focus on learning, serving, and growing, rather than worrying about tuition bills and financial roadblocks. More importantly, it would allow me to continue mentoring, giving back, and using my voice to inspire other young people who may be navigating the same challenges I faced. From that tiny apartment in Denver to Emory’s campus in Atlanta, my path has never been linear. But it’s been grounded in determination, compassion, and the unwavering belief that education is the most powerful tool for change.

When I immigrated to the United States from Spain as a toddler in 2009, I had no idea that I’d be growing up between two worlds. While my mom rebuilt our life from scratch (learning English, earning her degree in education, and serving in Denver Public Schools), I struggled quietly with the mental weight of starting over, too. Growing up in a predominantly white suburb, I quickly became aware of how different I was. My name, my mother’s accent, our traditions, and even our lunches marked me as “other.” Over time, this led to an anxiety that I didn't have the words to explain until much later. My anxiety wasn't loud. It didn’t always look like panic attacks or breakdowns. It looked like silence in class because I was scared my voice would sound different. It looked like working twice as hard on projects just to feel worthy, or feeling isolated when no one understood why we still spoke Spanish at home. Over the years, I carried a quiet pressure to succeed not just for me, but for my family, for the sacrifices my mother made and the barriers we were still pushing through. It wasn’t until high school that I began to understand that what I was feeling had a name. I started reading about anxiety, about how identity and environment affect mental health, especially for first-generation students and children of immigrants. This knowledge gave me strength. I started advocating for myself, seeking healthy coping strategies, and talking openly about mental wellness with friends and classmates, especially other students of color who often felt the same but didn’t have a space to express it. My experiences with mental health, especially anxiety, have shaped how I approach relationships. I’ve become more empathetic and intentional. I check in on friends and try to be the person I once needed, someone who listens without judgment. I’ve also learned how strong vulnerability is. Sharing my story hasn’t weakened my sense of self; it’s empowered me. It’s helped me build authentic relationships and strengthen communities within my school, such as through Key Club and student council, where I worked to amplify student voices and create more inclusive events and initiatives. More than anything, my mental health journey has influenced my career path. I want to become a pediatrician not just to treat physical illness, but to address emotional and mental health in young people, especially those who feel unseen. I want to be the kind of doctor who doesn’t dismiss a child’s quietness or anxiety, because I know what that silence can hold. I hope to create a practice that is not only bilingual and culturally sensitive, but deeply aware of how race, identity, and systemic challenges affect mental well-being. Mental health is foundational for me. It has taught me resilience, compassion, and purpose. And it continues to guide how I want to serve others: with understanding, inclusivity, and care that sees the whole person, not just their symptoms.

Books have always been more than just stories to me. They’ve been mirrors, mentors, and motivators. Growing up as a Latina in a predominantly white suburb, I often felt isolated by my background. But through books, I discovered characters who challenged injustice, asked hard questions, and shaped the world around them. One book that especially changed me was I Am Malala. Malala’s courage in standing up for girls’ education inspired me to reflect on my own privileges and responsibilities. Her story pushed me into action. I began tutoring at Valverde Elementary, a low-income school in southwest Denver, where I mentor young Latinas and teach them about education, hygiene, and the human body in bilingual sessions I designed myself. I also read to preschoolers using puppets and diverse picture books, intentionally choosing stories that show children who look like them overcoming challenges, making mistakes, and growing through failure. Watching their faces light up when they see themselves reflected in a story is a reminder of why representation matters, and why I’m committed to it. I’ve also failed. I used to believe that leadership meant doing everything myself. During my first year as student council vice president, I tried to lead a charity drive without asking for enough input or delegating tasks. The result was disorganization and limited impact. I was embarrassed but determined to grow. I asked for feedback, listened, and rebuilt trust with my peers. That experience taught me that leadership is all about collaboration, humility, and shared vision. Mentorship has shaped me deeply. My mother, a Spanish immigrant and Denver Public Schools teacher, has been my first and most enduring mentor. Watching her start from scratch, overcome rejection because of her accent, and serve her community with compassion has grounded my values. She taught me that kindness is strength. Inspired by her, I’ve committed myself to service. Whether through volunteering with TOPS Soccer for children with disabilities or founding Blue Star Supplies to support students in need, I’ve tried to be a consistent, caring presence in others’ lives. I am unique because I bridge worlds culturally, linguistically, and academically. I know what it feels like to translate for your parents, to be underestimated, and to still show up with resilience. I am a science nerd who once treated her pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, as her first patient, and who now dreams of becoming a pediatrician who will make kids feel seen, safe, and understood. I love mitochondria, Minecraft, and mentoring. I lead with heart and vision. Books sparked this journey, but it’s real-life mentors, experiences, and failures that have shaped who I am. Through a STEM education at Emory and beyond, I plan to become a doctor who not only heals but also advocates. I want to build inclusive clinics, design culturally sensitive health tools, and mentor the next generation of healthcare leaders, especially those who, like me, didn’t always see themselves in the textbooks. Because when young people see themselves in the world around them, they begin to believe in their power to shape it. '

I’ve always believed that the true purpose of education is not just personal achievement, but empowerment: of ourselves and others. For me, pursuing higher education is about more than earning a degree; it’s about equipping myself with the tools, knowledge, and voice I need to make a meaningful and lasting difference in my community. My goal is to become a pediatrician who not only treats patients, but also advocates for equity in healthcare, particularly for underserved and underrepresented populations. Growing up as a Latina in a predominantly white suburb, I often felt like an outsider. I witnessed the quiet barriers my mother faced as an immigrant from Spain, judgment for her accent, limited access to resources, and the pressure of having to start from zero. Watching her persist and serve her community as an educator in Denver Public Schools inspired me to view education as both a responsibility and a powerful form of service. It was through her that I first understood the deep impact that one individual can have in the lives of many. My high school experiences cemented that belief. Volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a low-income school with a high population of Spanish-speaking families, I saw how language barriers and a lack of access to health education and resources impacted children. I created and led hygiene workshops for young girls, ensuring they received not only information but also dignity. Through my work with TOPS Soccer, I supported children with disabilities and learned how much they benefit from patient, tailored care. These moments affirmed that my passion lies in medicine, but that my purpose is to serve. At Emory University, I will pursue a rigorous STEM education, majoring in neuroscience or biology on the pre-med track, to prepare myself for medical school. I am especially interested in pediatric medicine because I believe every child, no matter their background, deserves compassionate, culturally competent care. My long-term goal is to open a bilingual pediatric clinic that caters to low-income and immigrant families, breaking down language and trust barriers that often prevent these communities from seeking timely medical care. Furthering my education will allow me to deepen my understanding of science, ethics, and the social determinants of health. But beyond that, college will offer opportunities to engage in research, work with underserved communities, and connect with mentors who share my mission. I hope to become not only a skilled physician but a leader and advocate who challenges systemic disparities in healthcare. Education has already opened doors for me, but I want to hold those doors open for others. I want to be a role model for girls who look like me, speak like me, or have been made to feel they don’t belong. My education will be my launchpad, but my impact will be measured by the lives I touch, the families I serve, and the community I help uplift. I’m ready to learn, to lead, and to give back. And I know my future education will help me do exactly that.

My goal as a future physician is to become a compassionate physician who understands that medicine is not just about treating the body but also about listening, connecting, and advocating. My path to this calling was not a single moment, but a collection of experiences (some joyful, some difficult), that shaped my desire to enter healthcare. From playing with Trompita, my pink stuffed elephant and first “patient” with a toy stethoscope, to spending late nights helping younger students through peer mentoring, my love for science and people has always gone hand in hand. What first sparked my interest in STEM wasn’t a textbook or a lab but the mitochondria. When I learned that these tiny organelles are the “powerhouses” of the cell, responsible for generating energy to keep us alive, something clicked. I was fascinated by how something so small could have such a vital role. It reminded me of the people in our communities, especially immigrants and caregivers, who may go unnoticed but hold everything together. I saw my mom in the mitochondria. When she left Spain and moved to the U.S. with me in 2009, she had to start from zero. Despite working long hours and facing judgment for her accent, she never stopped serving our community through Denver Public Schools. Her quiet strength and sacrifice taught me that power doesn’t have to be loud, it just has to endure. Growing up Latina in a mostly white suburb, I often felt invisible. My name was mispronounced, my culture misunderstood, and my identity questioned. Those experiences were isolating, but they also fueled my determination to be someone who creates space for others. I’ve mentored young girls through hygiene workshops, volunteered at Valverde Elementary where Spanish is the first language for many students, and led our school’s class council to make service more inclusive. I’ve also volunteered with TOPS Soccer, where I got to work with children with disabilities. These experiences deepened my belief that healthcare must reflect and serve every community, not just the majority. That’s why increasing racial and cultural diversity in medicine is not optional but necessary. When patients see doctors who look like them or speak their language, it builds trust. It also changes outcomes. A bilingual doctor can catch nuances that a translator might miss. A doctor from an immigrant background may understand unspoken fears about insurance, documentation, or cultural taboos. Representation doesn’t just make patients feel more comfortable, it can literally save lives. At Emory University, I plan to major in neuroscience or biology on the pre-med track, preparing for a career in pediatric medicine that combines science, empathy, and advocacy. I want to open a bilingual pediatric clinic one day, especially for low-income or immigrant families who often fall through the cracks. My hope is that every child I treat feels seen, heard, and cared for, just like I wanted growing up. Medicine isn’t just my dream. It’s my responsibility. I want to be a powerhouse like the mitochondria. Quiet, steady, and absolutely essential.

My mother and I immigrated to the United States from Spain when I was only one year old. With little more than her degree in education and a strong sense of purpose, she set out to build a new life for us. Since 2008, she has been serving in Denver Public Schools, pouring her time, talent, and heart into the lives of children, many of whom come from underserved backgrounds. Watching her navigate unfamiliar systems, adapt to a new language, and commit herself so fully to her students taught me what resilience, sacrifice, and true service look like. Growing up in a predominantly white suburb, I often felt the weight of being different. I remember classmates mocking my mom’s accent or asking me why she spoke English “that way.” At a young age, it was painful and confusing. I wanted to fit in, to blend into the fabric of American life without having to constantly explain my identity. But as I got older, those moments of rejection transformed into sources of strength. I realized that my mother’s accent wasn't a flaw, but a badge of courage, evidence of her bravery in leaving her home country, raising me alone, and choosing to make a difference in the lives of others despite the barriers. Her story has shaped everything I believe about the world. I’ve learned that people are more than the surface-level traits we often judge them by. I’ve learned that language, culture, and struggle can be bridges, not walls. I’ve learned that giving back, especially to the communities that are too often overlooked, is one of the most powerful ways to create change. That’s why I am so passionate about pursuing a career in medicine, specifically pediatric medicine. I’ve volunteered for years with children, from mentoring young girls about hygiene and body confidence to serving kids with disabilities through TOPS Soccer. I’ve seen the gaps in healthcare access and the way children from low-income or non-English-speaking families are often underserved. I want to become the kind of doctor who not only heals but listens, who makes every family feel seen, valued, and safe. My background has given me a lens of empathy that will shape how I practice medicine and connect with others. My mom’s journey has also shown me the importance of education. She made sure I had every opportunity she could give me, even when that meant sacrificing her own comfort. Because of her, I’ve embraced every leadership role, excelled academically, and poured my energy into service projects like Blue Star Supplies, where I worked to get school supplies into the hands of kids who needed them. Her example has taught me what success really means. It is all about lifting others up as you rise. In everything I do, I carry my mother’s story with me. It reminds me that perseverance can outlast prejudice, that kindness can counter ignorance, and that one person’s commitment to community can change countless lives. My mom came to this country to build a better life for us, but in doing so, she gave me something even greater: a deep understanding of what it means to serve, to strive, and to stand up for others. That is the foundation of my beliefs, my ambitions, and the future I am working so hard to create.

My dream of becoming a pediatrician began with a pink stuffed elephant named Trompita. I was three years old when I received my first toy doctor kit, and Trompita became my first patient. With every make-believe checkup, I was unknowingly nurturing the instinct to care, comfort, and heal. Over time, that instinct matured into purpose, shaped not just by imagination but by experience, community service, and a deep commitment to making sure all children are seen, heard, and supported. Growing up as a Hispanic girl in a predominantly white suburb, I often felt the discomfort of difference. My mother, a Spanish speaker with a strong accent, was regularly dismissed or misunderstood in settings like clinics and schools. These moments made it painfully clear that language and cultural barriers could mean the difference between trust and fear in healthcare. I’ve watched children like myself interpret for their parents, carry the burden of advocacy too young, and suffer from healthcare systems that didn’t always meet their needs. These experiences didn’t deter me from medicine, they drew me closer. I want to be the doctor who listens with empathy, communicates with cultural sensitivity, and builds a bridge of trust between patient and provider. My experiences volunteering with children have confirmed that pediatrics is my calling. At Valverde Elementary, a low-income school in southwest Denver, I led tutoring and health education workshops for young girls. Some were new immigrants, others didn’t speak English at home, and many had never had someone talk to them openly about their bodies, hygiene, or emotional well-being. Helping them feel empowered in their own skin and watching them gain confidence reminded me how impactful early, affirming healthcare can be. I also served with TOPS Soccer, a program for children with physical and intellectual disabilities. Coaching these kids and creating a joyful, supportive space on the field showed me the importance of patience, accessibility, and compassion. These are traits I hope to bring to every pediatric encounter. To me, pediatric medicine isn’t just about diagnosing ear infections or giving vaccines. It’s about advocating for the child whose parents are scared, or who doesn’t speak the language, or who has never seen a doctor who looks like them. It’s about being a constant presence of safety and warmth in a child’s life. I want to be the kind of pediatrician who not only treats illness but nurtures the full well-being of every child. Physically, emotionally, and socially. In the fall, I will begin my undergraduate studies at Emory University, where I plan to major in biology on the pre-med track. With a foundation in both science and service, I aim to pursue medical school and specialize in pediatrics. I hope to one day open a community health center that serves immigrant and low-income families, offering not only care but education, empowerment, and advocacy. Trompita may have been my first patient, but the children I’ve worked with since have been my true inspiration. Their resilience, curiosity, and trust fuel my passion, and I am committed to being the kind of doctor who never takes that trust for granted.

Throughout my life, I’ve seen the value of community in the smallest gestures, neighbors sharing food after our basement flood, teachers offering mentorship, and my mother working tirelessly to support our family with a quiet strength I admire deeply. I’ve learned that a meaningful life is one spent serving others, and as I begin my studies at Emory University this fall, I am committed to using my education in biology on the pre-med track to make a lasting difference in underserved communities like the one I come from. Growing up as a Hispanic student in a predominantly white suburb, I often felt the weight of invisibility and misunderstanding. I’ve been laughed at because of my mom’s accent, and I’ve seen how cultural and language barriers can widen gaps in access to healthcare, education, and opportunity. These experiences shaped my desire to be a compassionate cardiologist who not only heals patients but also advocates for those who are often overlooked. I believe that science and medicine must be accessible, equitable, and human-centered. In high school, I worked to be a changemaker in both academic and local communities. I led student government and mock trial, mentored peers, and tutored children at Valverde Elementary, a low-income school in southwest Denver. At Valverde, I played and read with preschoolers and taught simple STEM activities. I also helped mentor young girls in topics like hygiene and understanding their bodies, conversations that are often neglected in early education, especially in immigrant households. These efforts inspired my passion project, Blue Star Supplies, which provides school supplies to students in need. It began after meeting Rafa, a boy who had just arrived from Honduras and whose siblings attended Mercedes Calderón Elementary with little more than pencils. Seeing how something as small as a backpack full of supplies could restore dignity and confidence in a child motivated me to keep going. Since then, Blue Star has reached over 200 students. My education at Emory will allow me to combine clinical training with a broader understanding of social health disparities. I hope to work at the intersection of medicine and advocacy, making cardiology not just about curing but caring. I envision starting nonprofit clinics in low-income neighborhoods, mentoring the next generation of diverse physicians, and using both science and empathy to break down barriers in care. I know that I will carry every lesson, from reading with kindergartners to organizing supply drives, with me. Ultimately, I plan to make a positive impact not by changing the world all at once, but by improving one person’s life at a time. Whether through a diagnosis, a listening ear, or an act of service, I want others to feel seen, valued, and supported, just as I did when my community lifted me up. That, to me, is the true purpose of education and the path to creating a healthier, more compassionate world.

The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” blasts through the car speakers as the wind rushes past my face, my hair plastered back, and my head moving to the rhythm of a reggaeton song. I remember this moment vividly because the music now carries more than just melody, it carries identity. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have known any of these songs. Spanish music didn’t “fit” into my life the way English did, and I pushed it away, unsure of where I belonged. But spending summers in Biescas, my mother’s pueblo in Spain, changed that. There, music wasn’t just background noise; it was a bond, a symbol of belonging, and a reminder of my heritage. That connection to my Hispanic identity, once distant, now fuels both my personal and professional path. As a student who belongs to two cultures but fits perfectly into neither, I’ve found strength in creating my own space, one built through language, leadership, and learning. At Littleton High School, I have taken on many roles: captain of the varsity soccer team, co-president of Mock Trial, vice president of both Technology Student Association and the senior class, and a committed member of clubs like NHS, Key Club, and Mathletes. I’ve launched a passion project, Blue Star Supplies, which provides educational materials to students in Honduras, reflecting my dedication to supporting Hispanic communities like my own. Academically, I’m proud to be an IB Diploma candidate ranked first in my class of 287 students, with a GPA of 4.816. I hope to continue this path as a pre-med student at Cornell University, eventually attending medical school to become a compassionate, community-driven doctor. But this path is not without challenges. Preparing for medical school is as financially demanding as it is academically rigorous. Between admissions test fees, preparation materials, application costs, and the long-term burden of student loans, the journey can feel overwhelming. Though I work part-time and receive limited financial support from my parents, the reality is that I will need to rely on loans and savings to complete my undergraduate education and eventually fund medical school. This financial strain often means making difficult decisions, sacrificing study time to work extra hours, postponing experiences that would otherwise enrich my education, and constantly balancing ambition with affordability. Receiving this scholarship would make a tangible difference. It would help relieve the financial pressure I face, allowing me to focus on excelling in my coursework, gaining valuable clinical experience, and continuing to volunteer in underserved communities. It would give me the freedom to invest more fully in opportunities that align with my dream of becoming a doctor who not only treats illness, but also advocates for equity and empathy in healthcare. In the future, I plan to give back to the communities that have shaped me. As a doctor, I want to serve underrepresented and Spanish-speaking populations, bridging language and cultural gaps in patient care. I also hope to mentor other students from diverse backgrounds, encouraging them to pursue careers in STEM and medicine. Just as I found power in reconnecting with my culture and channeling it into service, I want others to feel empowered to do the same. Like the mitochondria I once learned about in biology class, the powerhouse of the cell, I work tirelessly to energize the spaces I belong to. Whether through academics, leadership, cultural identity, or service, I strive to be a source of impact and resilience. This scholarship would be more than just financial assistance, it would be a catalyst, allowing me to continue powering forward toward a future of purpose, compassion, and contribution.

From a young age, I was drawn to the human body. When I was little, I would wrap bandages around my pink stuffed elephant Trompita and pretend she was my patient. I didn’t have the language for it back then, but I now know that what I felt was a calling, one rooted in curiosity, care, and community. That calling has only deepened. My mom is a bilingual educator from Spain, and my dad is from North Dakota. I’ve grown up with a deep appreciation for service and resilience. I’ve also witnessed how underserved communities, like the students I volunteer with at Valverde Elementary in southwest Denver, are often left behind in matters of health, especially women’s health. That is why I plan to become a cardiologist who specializes in women’s health and works in communities that have historically lacked access to care. I chose to major in biology on the pre-med track because I want to understand the science behind the heart, not just figuratively, but biologically. I want to advocate for women in medicine, and I’m especially interested in how cardiovascular issues affect women differently and are often under-researched or misdiagnosed. At Emory University’s Oxford College, I’ll be able to explore those questions while building strong relationships in a smaller community. My passion for medicine doesn’t stop at academics. I’ve earned a STEM certificate, and I volunteer at Project C.U.R.E., where I help prepare medical supplies for global distribution. I also lead STEM-based workshops for preschoolers at Valverde, where I’ve started introducing girls to topics like hygiene, the female body, and the basics of women’s health and protection in age-appropriate ways. I believe empowerment starts early, and I want young girls, especially girls of color, to know that their minds and bodies are powerful and worthy of care. I have worked hard to get here. I earned a 3.98 GPA, became valedictorian of my class, and was accepted to my dream school. But the cost of attendance is a challenge for my family. That’s why I’m applying for this scholarship, to help close the gap between my potential and my financial reality. My dream is to open a health practice one day that centers women and lifts up voices that have been ignored. I want to leave a legacy not just of healing, but of hope. By pursuing medicine, I plan to keep shining my light where it is most needed.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I am a bilingual, bicultural senior at Littleton High School and valedictorian of my graduating class. I’ve always been fascinated by how the human body works, but even more, by how it breaks down when care is inaccessible. That curiosity has led me to pursue a career in medicine with a dual focus: cardiology and women’s health. I want to serve underrepresented communities where heart disease and gender disparities are often overlooked, and where healthcare can be a lifeline or a barrier. I am drawn to cardiology not just because the heart is complex, but because it is at the center of the leading cause of death for women in the U.S. Many women, especially women of color and those in lower-income communities, are misdiagnosed or dismissed when they report symptoms. I want to change that. I envision myself becoming a physician who understands both the science and the systemic inequities that shape outcomes. My dream is to open community clinics that offer culturally competent, bilingual care in areas where women’s health and cardiovascular disease intersect and are too often ignored. What excites me about this path is its potential for impact. Science is powerful, but only if it reaches the people who need it most. That’s why I’ve focused my high school years not only on rigorous academics, but also on grassroots community service. I volunteer weekly at Valverde Elementary in southwest Denver, supporting bilingual early learners in a public school where most students qualify for free lunch. This year, I’m launching a new initiative: a series of workshops for preschool girls that focus on hygiene, the female body, and an introduction to women’s health and protection. These workshops are age-appropriate, culturally responsive, and bilingual. I want to give girls tools and language that many of us never had at their age, because empowerment starts with knowledge. Women’s empowerment is a core part of everything I do. As captain of my school’s varsity soccer team, vice president of Technology Student Association, and president of Mock Trial, I’ve helped create space for younger girls to see themselves as leaders in STEM, athletics, and law. I mentor students through an elementary math program and coordinate donations through Blue Star Supplies, which sends educational materials to schools in Honduras. I believe change starts early, and that helping girls build confidence in themselves, and in their bodies, can shift generational outcomes. I chose medicine because I want to work at the intersection of equity and healing. My dream is about being present in rooms where people feel unseen and unheard, and doing something about it. I want to be a cardiologist who listens closely, a women’s health advocate who educates and uplifts, and a community leader who brings care where it’s needed most. Empowering women, whether through health, education, or voice, will always be at the heart of my work.

Selflessness, to me, means showing up for others even when it’s not easy, even when no one is watching. It’s about listening deeply, acting with empathy, and choosing kindness over convenience. Throughout my life, I’ve tried to embody this value in the big and small moments, through volunteering, mentoring, caregiving, and standing beside people when they need it most. One of the most meaningful examples of selflessness in my life has been my time volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a public school in southwest Denver that serves primarily low-income and immigrant families. I began helping in a preschool classroom during the school day and continued on the days I didn’t have class. I helped students with bilingual literacy, played with them during recess, and supported the teacher wherever needed. Many of these children came to school facing instability at home, and I felt called to be a steady, loving presence, someone who not only read them stories but made them feel safe and seen. I remember one student who struggled with separation anxiety and would cry at drop-off. I made it a point to be there for him, greeting him each morning with a smile, holding his hand until he felt calm. Over time, he grew more confident and began walking in on his own. That was the quiet power of showing up, no fanfare, just consistency. I’ve also been a longtime volunteer with TOPSoccer, a program for children with disabilities. As a “soccer buddy,” I work one-on-one with athletes, adapting drills and offering encouragement so that every child can participate meaningfully. I remember one player who was nonverbal and struggled to stay engaged. By taking the time to understand his rhythm, celebrating every small win, and adapting our play to suit his pace, I saw him light up with joy each week. Being there for him taught me that selflessness also means patience, meeting someone exactly where they are, not where it’s convenient for you. Selflessness has also meant supporting my own family. When my grandfather in Spain was diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer, my mom had to move back to Zaragoza to help with hospice care. It was a difficult time. My sister and I stayed behind in Colorado, missing our mom while knowing she was doing something deeply important. I stepped up at home in every way I could: helping with meals, keeping up with school, supporting my sister emotionally, and holding our family together across continents. I did it without expecting recognition, just with love. That experience deepened my understanding of what it means to give fully of yourself to those in need. Whether it's creating hygiene workshops for girls, tutoring younger students, or simply offering a friend a shoulder to lean on, I try to live out selflessness every day. It's not always dramatic. It’s the everyday choices, the quiet sacrifices, and the commitment to serve others without expectation that define who I am. As I move forward toward a career in healthcare, I know that these experiences have prepared me to show up for my patients, families, and communities with compassion, humility, and heart.

After nearly two decades of emotional rollercoasters, surgeries, and soul-deep relationships, the perfect ending to Grey’s Anatomy wouldn’t wrap everything in a perfect bow, it would celebrate growth, healing, and the beauty of choosing hope again and again. For me, it begins with Meredith Grey, the heart of the show. Having weathered unimaginable grief, loss, and love, she finally finds a moment of peace. She publishes her memoir, “Anatomy of a Surgeon,” a deeply personal account of her years at Grey Sloan, her bond with Derek, the friendships that saved her, and the lessons learned in the OR and beyond. Her voice, always poetic, becomes a source of inspiration to a new generation of surgeons. In one of the show’s final scenes, we see her teaching a class at Harvard, the sunlight falling on her face as she speaks not just of medicine, but of resilience. Back in Seattle, Grey Sloan Memorial is renamed Grey–Shepherd Memorial in honor of both her and Derek, and as she visits the hospital one last time, she walks through its halls with gratitude instead of grief. Cristina Yang, though still thriving in Zurich, returns for one last surgery with Meredith. She’s now a globally renowned cardiac surgeon, having developed a groundbreaking technique for pediatric heart repair. Their reunion in the OR is electric, competitive banter, seamless teamwork, and deep mutual respect. Cristina’s presence reminds Meredith, and all of us, that distance never weakens a true bond. Before returning to Europe, Cristina tells Meredith, “We’re still each other’s person. That never changes.” Alex Karev and Jo Wilson have grown into leaders in their own right. Together, they run the Pediatric Surgery Department, with walls lined with drawings and thank-you cards from the children they’ve saved. Alex, once the angry intern, now mentors teens through a community program that offers both medical education and emotional support. Jo, balancing motherhood with her work, thrives in her dual roles, always advocating for the overlooked and unheard. Dr. Miranda Bailey has finally found a rhythm between her professional passion and personal peace. She leads the hospital as Chief of Surgery and opens a free clinic for underinsured families in Seattle, fulfilling her long-held dream of equitable healthcare. In a tender scene, she watches a new class of interns perform their first solo surgeries and quietly smiles, proud of the legacy she’s built. Richard Webber and Catherine Fox now serve as the hospital’s unofficial grandparents. They host weekly dinners for residents and retired attendings alike, sharing wisdom, laughter, and love. Their scenes remind viewers that healing is about community. Owen Hunt and Teddy Altman, having finally found stability, choose to adopt a child from foster care. Their journey from trauma to trust is quiet but profound. We see them introducing their new daughter to Meredith at a book signing, surrounded by the people who helped shape their journey. Other familiar faces get thoughtful farewells. April and Jackson run a rural clinic, finding purpose in small-town medicine. Arizona and Callie co-parent Sofia with kindness and shared joy. Maggie and Winston are raising their newborn, finding joy in both parenting and research, embodying the next chapter of innovation. In the final moments, we return to Grey–Shepherd Memorial at dawn. The hospital buzzes with quiet urgency. Meredith, Bailey, and Cristina walk down the hall together, lab coats in hand. The camera slowly pans up to the Seattle skyline, and we hear Meredith’s voice one last time: “Sometimes, the best endings aren’t endings at all. They’re just the beginning of something new.”

From the moment I heard the lyric "I know my age and I act like it" from Olivia Rodrigo’s “teenage dream,” I felt seen in a way few songs have made me feel before. There’s something so raw and honest about that line, it captures the tension of being seventeen or eighteen, old enough to carry the weight of expectations but still young enough to feel unprepared for what’s next. I’ve always tried to be the responsible one. The oldest daughter, the role model, the one who doesn’t mess up. I study hard, volunteer, take on leadership roles, and support my mom, who teaches in a public school, while also helping care for my younger sister when needed. But there are days when I feel like I’m just pretending to be as put-together as everyone thinks I am. Olivia’s lyric gave a voice to that feeling: that quiet pressure to be perfect, to not fall apart, to "act" like I’m grown even when I’m still figuring life out. There’s also a quiet grief that runs through GUTS, especially in “teenage dream.” It’s not just about heartbreak or growing pains, it’s about realizing that youth is fleeting, and that sometimes, the world expects too much too soon. That resonates deeply with me. When my abuelo in Zaragoza passed away from lung cancer, my mom had to return to Spain for weeks to help with hospice. I stayed in Denver with my sister, going to school, playing varsity soccer, and trying to stay strong. It was one of the hardest times in my life, but I didn’t feel like I had the option to break down. I had to be mature. I had to “act my age,” even though inside, I just wanted someone to tell me it was okay to not be okay. Olivia Rodrigo writes about the contradiction of being a teenage girl today, having all these emotions and nowhere safe to put them. And that’s what GUTS gave me: a place to put them. Her lyrics helped me feel less alone in the pressure to achieve, to grow up, to have everything figured out. I think that’s why her music resonates with so many people my age, we’re all walking that fine line between being taken seriously and still wanting to scream into a pillow. I also think about the lyric in the context of my dreams. I want to be a doctor, maybe in women’s health or cardiology, and serve communities that are often overlooked. That dream comes with more expectations and pressure. Sometimes I wonder: will I still be “special” when I’m not the teenager who does it all? What happens when I’m just an adult, doing the job I’ve prepared for my whole life? Still, Olivia’s music doesn’t just sit in sadness. It’s honest, but it’s also empowering. It reminds me that adolescence is about claiming your voice, your flaws, and your story. That’s what I try to do in every part of my life, whether I’m volunteering at Valverde Elementary, helping girls learn about their bodies through workshops, or writing essays like this one. I’m not perfect, and I don’t always know what I’m doing, but I know my age, and I act like it. And that’s enough.

When I was little, my parents and I curled up on the couch one evening to watch The Wizard of Oz. I remember clutching my stuffed elephant, Trompita, as the Wicked Witch of the West cackled on screen. I was terrified... her green skin, sharp voice, and dramatic entrances haunted me for days. At the time, she represented everything scary and bad in the world. But what I didn’t know then was that years later, I’d come to see her in an entirely different light—and even find myself in her story. On our way back to Spain to visit family one summer, we had a layover in London. My parents surprised us with tickets to a theater production of Wicked. I had no idea what to expect, but from the moment the curtain rose, I was captivated. This wasn’t the same witch I had feared as a child. Elphaba was strong, intelligent, passionate, and kind, yet misunderstood and unfairly judged. I had never seen a story flip so completely. I left the theater in awe, and I’ve been a devoted fan of Wicked ever since. That night sparked something in me. Wicked didn’t just entertain, it challenged me to rethink what I thought I knew about people, stories, and identity. Elphaba’s journey taught me about the power of empathy, the complexity of human experiences, and the bravery it takes to stand alone for what’s right. The musical’s core message—that being different doesn’t mean being wrong—spoke to me in a way no story ever had. Growing up bilingual and bicultural Spanish American, with summers in Zaragoza and life in inner-city Denver, I’ve sometimes felt like I don’t fully belong in one place or the other. I’ve navigated moments where I felt out of sync with those around me, like I was speaking a different language, both literally and metaphorically. Elphaba’s determination and self-acceptance helped me see my differences as strengths. Her story gave me permission to embrace every part of who I am. Wicked’s music, too, has left a lasting impact. Songs like Defying Gravity and For Good are more than beautiful melodies, they’re affirmations. I listen to them when I need courage, when I need to remind myself why I want to go into medicine, and when I’m working on lesson plans for Pre-K students at Valverde Elementary. In those classrooms, I see little kids who also want to feel seen and heard. I try to give them what Wicked gave me: hope, confidence, and permission to dream big. Wicked is ultimately a story about choosing integrity over popularity, compassion over judgment, and love over fear. These are the same values I bring to every part of my life, whether volunteering with TOPSoccer, comforting a friend, or studying to become a doctor in women’s health or cardiology. Wicked taught me that even when you feel like the world is against you, your voice matters. That first performance in London lit a spark. And ever since, Wicked has been a reminder that we all have a little magic in us, even if the world hasn’t seen it yet.

My Favorite Song on CRASH — “Used To Know Me” Charli XCX’s CRASH album is packed with raw emotion and bold pop energy, but my favorite song is “Used To Know Me.” This track hits me on a personal level because it’s about growth, change, and reclaiming your identity after people try to define you differently. Growing up, I’ve had to navigate different worlds, balancing my Spanish-American heritage, summers spent in Sicily with my grandpa, and my life here in Denver. Like the song, I’ve experienced moments where others expected me to be a certain way, but I knew I was evolving into someone stronger and more independent. “Used To Know Me” feels like an anthem of empowerment, a reminder that we’re not stuck in past versions of ourselves, and it’s okay to break free from what people think they know about us. Charli’s voice and lyrics give me confidence to embrace change and own my story. Whether I’m volunteering with kids at Valverde Elementary or pushing myself academically, I want to be authentic and true to myself, not confined by others’ expectations. The song’s message pushes me to let go of limiting perceptions and step boldly into my future. Also, “Used To Know Me” resonates because of its vulnerability. It shows that growth isn’t always easy; sometimes it means leaving people behind or facing challenges alone. That’s something I relate to personally, especially when my mom had to move to Spain to care for my abuelo during his cancer battle. It was a tough time for my family, and I had to grow stronger, more independent while supporting my sister and managing my own emotions. Charli’s song captures that bittersweet feeling of change and the strength it takes to keep moving forward. “Used To Know Me” inspires me to stay true to myself no matter what. Charli XCX’s music has helped me find my voice and confidence through every twist and turn, and this song is a reminder that I am always evolving, and that’s something to celebrate ...

Music has always been the backdrop to my life, especially in the quiet, complicated moments that no one else sees. Billie Eilish’s music, with its rawness and depth, has been a companion in those moments. Her lyrics have resonated with me in ways that few other artists ever have. If I had to pick three songs that shaped me, they would be “everything i wanted,” “idontwannabeyouanymore,” and “my future.” Each one speaks to a part of my journey as a bilingual Spanish-American girl navigating identity, loss, ambition, and growth. 1. “everything i wanted” This song carried me through some of the loneliest times in high school, moments where the pressure of being “the strong one” felt unbearable. Between volunteering at Valverde Elementary, playing varsity soccer, mentoring other students, and trying to be the perfect IB student, I sometimes felt like I was drowning under expectations, even the ones I put on myself. “everything i wanted” reminded me that I wasn’t alone, even when it felt like no one noticed how hard I was trying. Billie’s words “If I could change the way that you see yourself…” reminded me to give myself the same compassion I offer others. That’s not something we’re always taught, especially as young women trying to succeed in high-stakes spaces. This song gave me permission to rest. To breathe. 2. “idontwannabeyouanymore” As someone who’s had to move between cultures, classrooms, and communities, I’ve often felt like I was performing different versions of myself to meet expectations. This song hit me hard when I was about fifteen. The vulnerability in Billie’s voice helped me begin the slow work of embracing my real self, the one that didn’t always feel strong, or confident, or perfect. I think of this song as the beginning of my journey to self-acceptance. It helped me look in the mirror and start to untangle who I actually was from who I thought I should be. It’s a song that hurts in the best way, and it’s one I return to when I feel like I’m slipping into old patterns of doubt or insecurity. 3. “my future” This is the song I played the night I submitted my college applications, dreaming of becoming a cardiologist or women’s health doctor. “my future” is more than a melody, it’s a declaration. It captures the exact moment I began to see myself not just as someone with a dream, but as someone who could become that dream. The lyric “I’m in love with my future, can’t wait to meet her” gave me chills. It felt like Billie was speaking to the exact part of me that believes deeply in service, in caring for underserved communities, and in carving out a future that my abuelo Antonio, who passed away from cancer in Spain, would be proud of. That future isn’t just about success. It’s about love. Community. Purpose. These three songs form a kind of emotional trilogy for me. They’ve carried me through darkness, helped me confront my own reflection, and propelled me toward a future I’m building with both hands and heart. Billie Eilish doesn’t just write songs. She tells truths. And in doing so, she’s helped me tell mine.

There’s a scene I replay often in my mind: I’m driving home after volunteering at Valverde Elementary, exhausted but fulfilled, the sun low over Denver’s skyline, and Sabrina Carpenter’s voice rising through my speakers. I’m singing along to “Because I Liked a Boy,” and for a moment, I feel seen. Heard. Understood. It’s one of the many moments when Sabrina’s music has helped me keep going, and believe in myself, especially when the world felt heavy. I became a fan of Sabrina Carpenter during a time when I was trying to figure out who I was. As a Spanish American girl growing up in inner-city Denver, navigating the pressure of school, athletics, and the weight of wanting to make a difference in underserved communities, I often felt split between cultures, expectations, and emotions I couldn’t always name. Sabrina helped me give those feelings a voice. Her music doesn’t shy away from vulnerability, it embraces it. And that’s exactly what I needed. Sabrina has taught me that being soft doesn’t mean being weak. Her lyrics, her confidence, and even her public grace through difficult moments (like the backlash she faced after that song) showed me how to hold my head high and keep moving. When I was juggling IB coursework, captaining my varsity soccer team, mentoring younger students, and volunteering with Project C.U.R.E. and TOPSoccer, it was her voice in the background reminding me I could do hard things, and do them with heart. Her music has played in my ears during college essay writing marathons and on the drives to volunteer sites like Valverde, where I lead bilingual workshops for young girls about hygiene and women’s health. In many ways, Sabrina inspired me to believe that my voice matters too. That I can be someone little girls look up to, not because I’m perfect, but because I’m real. And that authenticity has helped guide my dream of becoming a doctor in cardiology or women’s health. Even my earliest dreams, like pretending my pink stuffed elephant Trompita was my first patient, were rooted in caring for others. But it’s artists like Sabrina who kept me going during the rough patches. When my abuelo Antonio was dying of lung cancer in Zaragoza, Spain, and my mom had to fly back to be with him in hospice, I felt helpless here in Colorado. I missed my mom. I missed my abuelo. Sabrina’s songs became a safe place where I could feel sad and still find light. She made space for joy, even in grief. What sets Sabrina apart is that she doesn’t just create music, she creates connection. Through her songwriting, she gives her fans permission to feel everything: messy love, uncertain ambition, painful growth. That emotional honesty shaped the way I show up, not just in relationships, but in the way I lead, serve, and study. Whether I’m organizing supply drives for Honduras, babysitting for local families, or working toward my goal of becoming a physician, I carry her message with me: Be bold. Be kind. And never apologize for being passionate. Sabrina Carpenter didn’t just get me through high school, she helped me become the young woman I am today. Confident. Purposeful. Open-hearted. And ready to make a difference.

The hardest chapter of my life began with a phone call from across the ocean. My abuelo Antonio, my grandfather in Spain, had fallen. What we thought was just fatigue and recurring sinus issues turned out to be far more serious. After months of being misdiagnosed with a simple infection, an emergency room visit finally revealed a dark spot on his lung. The cancer had already spread. My abuelo lived in Zaragoza, and within days of the diagnosis, my mom had to fly to Spain to help with hospice care. My sister and I stayed behind in Colorado. I was only fourteen, and for the first time, I felt what it meant to grow up quickly. At first, the house just felt quiet. But as the days stretched into weeks, the weight of it all began to sink in. I missed my mom deeply. I worried constantly about my grandfather, about my mother’s emotional and physical exhaustion, about what would happen next. We tried to keep up with school, soccer, volunteering, ... Normal life. But underneath it all, we were carrying grief and helplessness. Fourteen weeks after that initial call, my abuelo passed away. I’ll never forget the pain of knowing he was slipping away while we were half a world apart. But I’ll also never forget the strength I found during those months. I had two options: I could crumble under the stress, or I could rise. I chose the second. My plan of action wasn’t dramatic. It was simply to show up, for myself, for my sister, for my mom. I made our meals, helped my sister with homework, stayed on top of my IB classes, and continued volunteering at Valverde Elementary. I talked to my mom every night. And when she cried, I didn’t try to fix it, I just listened. I realized that support doesn’t always come from grand gestures; sometimes, it’s in the quiet consistency of just being there. This adversity changed how I see life and people. I learned how easy it is to overlook symptoms until it’s too late. I also learned how vital emotional support is, not just for patients, but for families. This experience shaped my vision of becoming a doctor. I want to be the kind of physician who not only treats illness but who listens deeply, notices the small things, and advocates for early diagnosis and comprehensive care. Most importantly, it showed me the power of empathy. Because I’ve been on the other side, helpless, heartbroken, waiting for news, I know what it means to be vulnerable. That knowledge will guide the way I treat patients in the future. Adversity doesn't always come with warning signs. Sometimes, it comes like it did for us, with a fall, a phone call, and a goodbye that comes too fast. But it also teaches us who we are. I discovered resilience, compassion, and purpose in the midst of grief. I lost my abuelo, but I found the kind of strength that doesn’t leave. And that strength is what I’ll carry with me, into every patient room, every late-night study session, and every step toward becoming the doctor I hope to be.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I’m a Spanish American student from Colorado with a passion for both science and service. From a young age, I’ve been fascinated by how the human body works, especially the intricate systems that sustain life. I used to pretend to be a doctor with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, carefully bandaging her ears and checking her heartbeat with a toy stethoscope. What started as play soon became a purpose. I chose healthcare, specifically medicine, because I want to spend my life helping people heal. The heart has always stood out to me as a symbol of resilience and life itself. Cardiology, with its blend of technical precision and high-stakes problem-solving, draws me in deeply. I am equally passionate about women’s health, an area where care, education, and equity intersect. Too often, women, especially in underserved communities, face barriers to basic reproductive healthcare or are dismissed when they voice symptoms. I want to change that. I want to be a provider who listens, who explains, and who advocates. My calling to medicine is about people. My mom is a public school teacher, and I’ve inherited her love for serving communities. I volunteer regularly at Valverde Elementary, a public school in inner-city Denver with a large Spanish-speaking population. I read bilingual books, lead hands-on activities, and make sure each child feels valued. I also lead hygiene workshops for young girls, teaching them about their bodies with respect and clarity, something I wish every young person had access to. Beyond education, I’ve served with TOPSoccer, helping children with disabilities build confidence through movement. I’ve also supported my community through Project C.U.R.E. and CO Feeds Kids, both of which have shown me that health is so much more than medicine: it’s nutrition, support, education, and compassion. One of the most personal moments that affirmed my path happened when my grandfather, my “abuelo Antonio,” passed away from lung cancer in Zaragoza, Spain. For months, his illness went undiagnosed. Despite his headaches, mouth ulcers, and fatigue, he was told it was just a sinus infection, until it was too late. When he finally collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, the cancer had already spread. He passed away just fourteen weeks later. My mom had to return to Spain to care for him through hospice, and while my sister and I stayed behind in Colorado, I felt the pain of watching someone we love fade from afar, powerless. That experience solidified my desire to be the kind of doctor who takes every symptom seriously, who catches things early, and who walks alongside families through the hardest moments with empathy and strength. In the future, I hope to work in underserved communities, either as a cardiologist or a women’s health physician. I want to bring both high-quality care and education to patients who are often left behind in our healthcare system, especially Spanish-speaking populations and women. To me, medicine is not just a career. It’s a mission. And I am ready to walk the long road toward becoming a doctor with my heart open, my hands steady, and my purpose clear.

I have always believed that education is one of the most powerful tools for social change. Growing up bilingual and bicultural, the daughter of a Spanish immigrant mother and a North Dakota-born father, I quickly saw how opportunity is unevenly distributed, even within the same city. My lived experience taught me that many children face barriers not because they lack talent, but because they lack access. This realization lit a fire in me, and ever since, I’ve been working to address educational inequity as a root social issue, because I believe that when we plant the seeds of opportunity, entire communities can bloom. One of the ways I’ve acted on this belief is through my volunteer work at Valverde Elementary, a public school in inner-city southwest Denver. Valverde serves a high percentage of low-income, Spanish-speaking families, and it holds a special place in my heart, not only because it reminds me of my own education and roots, but because I see so much untapped brilliance in its students. I volunteer weekly during the school year, leading hands-on STEM activities, reading bilingual books, and creating safe, joyful learning spaces where children feel seen and celebrated. I use both my language skills and cultural knowledge to bridge communication gaps and foster a sense of belonging. To me, it's not just about helping them with schoolwork, it's about showing them that they matter. I also address inequity through my work with TOPSoccer, a program that pairs student-athletes with children who have disabilities. Many of the athletes I support have cognitive or developmental delays and come from under-resourced communities. By building relationships, celebrating every milestone, and adapting activities so all kids can participate fully, I’ve learned how to be a more inclusive leader and advocate. Equity, after all, isn’t about giving everyone the same—it’s about giving each person what they need to thrive. In addition, I’ve developed a bilingual, culturally responsive curriculum for Pre-K students that introduces the complex history of African kingdoms and slavery through age-appropriate literature, activities, and vocabulary. Inspired by the Learning for Justice framework, this project aims to fill a gap in early childhood education—one that often avoids or oversimplifies hard truths. I created it so that even our youngest learners can begin to develop empathy, awareness, and critical thinking skills. Social justice starts young, and I want to be part of shaping that foundation. My ultimate goal is to become a nurse, specializing in cardiology or pediatric women's health, where I can continue this work of bridging gaps, this time in healthcare. I believe education and healthcare are deeply intertwined: when families can’t access basic health services, children fall behind in school; when young girls aren’t taught how their bodies work, they’re more vulnerable to misinformation and shame. I currently lead hygiene workshops for young girls, teaching them about their bodies with dignity and respect, often in Spanish. These sessions are more than educational—they are empowerment in action. Whether it’s through tutoring, curriculum design, sports mentorship, or health education, I am committed to addressing social inequities with heart, humility, and action. I know that I alone cannot fix all the systems that hold people back. But I also know that I can be a force for change in the spaces I occupy. One child at a time, one conversation at a time, I am helping build a future where opportunity is not dictated by zip code, first language, or income, but by passion, effort, and hope.

Two Worlds, One Heart Growing up in inner-city Denver, particularly in the Valverde neighborhood, meant growing up with contradictions. On one hand, it meant warmth. Block parties where everyone knew your name, bilingual chatter echoing from porches, and the smell of tamales drifting down the street. On the other hand, it meant struggle. Overcrowded classrooms, underfunded programs, and the harsh realities of poverty casting long shadows over bright potential. My early years were shaped by Valverde Elementary, a school full of passionate teachers doing their best with limited resources. It was here that I learned to read in both English and Spanish, that I first discovered science through recycled soda-bottle experiments, and that I realized how deeply I loved to learn. But I also witnessed how opportunity wasn’t distributed equally. I saw kids fall through the cracks, not because they weren’t smart or capable, but because they didn’t have the support systems they needed. I watched teachers stretch themselves thin, acting as social workers, translators, and therapists as much as educators. Despite these challenges, my family gave me something priceless: roots and resilience. My mom, a public school teacher, reminded me every day that education was power. She often came home late, tired from pouring herself into her students, and yet she still helped me with my homework, read with me, and made sure I believed that I belonged in any room I entered. She showed me that being from Valverde wasn’t a limitation—it was a source of strength. Middle school brought change, and by the time I reached high school, I was attending Littleton High School, a public school in a more affluent area. The contrast was jarring. There were more resources, more AP classes, more clubs, more polished facilities, but fewer students who looked or spoke like me. At first, I felt like an outsider. I missed the comfort of hearing Spanish in the hallways, of teachers who understood my neighborhood, of peers who shared my story. But I didn’t retreat. Instead, I leaned into both worlds. I brought my Valverde values (grit, humility, empathy) with me to Littleton, and I worked hard to bridge the gap. I became a leader in school, a valedictorian, and an IB Diploma candidate. I volunteered at Valverde Elementary, tutoring and mentoring students who reminded me of myself. I led workshops for young girls about hygiene and women’s health, knowing that knowledge is often the first step toward empowerment. I started giving back, not just because I remembered what it felt like to need support, but because I knew I could be a living example that success was possible. One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced hasn’t been academic, it’s been emotional. Code-switching between two very different environments, constantly proving that I belonged, and trying not to lose parts of myself in the process has been exhausting at times. But it’s also made me stronger. I’ve learned how to advocate for myself and others. I’ve learned how to find common ground. And most importantly, I’ve learned that I can carry both parts of my identity proudly: the inner-city girl with roots in Valverde, and the college-bound scholar with dreams of becoming a pediatric or cardiology nurse. Today, I’m proud of my journey. I’m proud of where I started and how far I’ve come. I want to use my education not just to uplift myself, but to go back and serve the communities that made me who I am. Whether I’m working in a hospital, speaking Spanish with a patient who feels overwhelmed, or returning to Valverde as a mentor, I will always remember what it was like to grow up where I did. And I will always fight to ensure that being from the inner city never limits a child’s ability to dream, achieve, and thrive.

Cancer is a word that changes everything. It enters your family like an unwelcome guest, reshaping routines, rewriting roles, and reordering priorities. For my family, that word came in the form of my abuelo Antonio’s diagnosis: lung cancer. He lived in Zaragoza, Spain—a proud, warm man who had built a life rooted in hard work, tradition, and love for his family. But in the final chapter of his life, his strength began to fade. Though he was clearly unwell, exhausted, plagued by mouth ulcers, headaches, and an overall decline in energy, his symptoms were repeatedly brushed off as a sinus infection. His doctor missed the signs, and by the time he collapsed and was rushed to the emergency room, the truth emerged. A spot on his lung. Stage IV. The cancer had already spread. There were no more treatment options. The clock had started ticking. It took just fourteen weeks. My mom, his youngest daughter, packed her bags and moved back to Spain to care for him through hospice. That act alone taught me so much about sacrifice, family, and what it means to show up when it matters most. From Colorado, my sister and I tried to stay strong. We missed our mom terribly. We carried the quiet grief of knowing we were losing our abuelo, and yet we understood that she needed to be there. He needed her. Those weeks were a blur of long-distance phone calls and deep emotional exhaustion. My mom told us about brushing his hair, feeding him with a spoon, playing his favorite music, and how, even when he could no longer speak, he would reach for her hand. She told us about the nurses who guided them through everything, their calm presence, their small acts of kindness, their ability to bring peace into a home filled with fear and pain. That experience shaped me more than any class or book ever could. It showed me what real care looks like. It taught me that medicine is about comforting. It’s about making people feel seen, safe, and dignified, even as life slips away. It’s why I’m pursuing a career in nursing or medicince, with a deep interest in cardiology and women’s health, fields that require a human connection as strong as clinical knowledge. I want to be someone who notices what others overlook. The one who listens, advocates, and stays beside patients and families through the hardest moments. I want to be there not just with answers, but with heart. Watching cancer steal my abuelo from us, and watching how my mom became his lifeline in those last weeks, gave me a deeper understanding of what it means to care for someone. It also showed me how easily marginalized patients, like elderly individuals or those dismissed due to systemic gaps, can fall through the cracks. I carry that with me as a responsibility and a call to action. My abuelo died with dignity because he was surrounded by love. My mom returned home different. So did I, as this journey touched every part of me. Now, I walk forward into this path with purpose—and with the memory of my abuelo guiding every step.

I’ve always believed that true leadership begins with listening, and then acting. Throughout high school, I have sought ways to support marginalized and underserved populations, not just by showing up, but by creating meaningful and innovative experiences that empower and uplift. These initiatives have allowed me to grow as a leader and deepen my commitment to equity in education and health care. One of the most impactful self-initiated projects I created was a bilingual workshop series for young girls at Valverde Elementary School, a public school in southwest Denver where I volunteer regularly. Many of the students there are from immigrant or low-income families, and I noticed early on that there was a gap in accessible, age-appropriate health education, especially related to hygiene, anatomy, and puberty. These are essential topics, yet they’re often considered taboo or neglected altogether in underserved schools. With the support of my mentors and my own research into child development and culturally responsive pedagogy, I designed a series of workshops focused on body literacy and self-care. I created simple, bilingual visual materials to explain topics like menstruation, handwashing, and emotional regulation, and I emphasized open discussion so that students felt safe asking questions. I still remember one fourth-grader who told me afterward, “Now I’m not scared of my body anymore.” That’s when I knew the work mattered. I also led a project at the preschool level using the Learning for Justice framework to teach about African history and the concept of human value, laying the groundwork for future conversations about slavery and justice. For many of the children I worked with, this was their first exposure to a narrative that centered African kingdoms, geography, and pride rather than oppression. I created bilingual slides, vocabulary supports, and activities that integrated literacy, geography, and math. I knew these students might not remember every term or date, but I wanted them to remember feeling seen and valued. In addition to my classroom initiatives, I’ve contributed to global health equity efforts through my involvement with Project C.U.R.E. and Blue Supplies for Honduras. For Project C.U.R.E., I helped sort and pack donated medical supplies that would go to clinics in underserved countries. Inspired by a family friend named Rafa who is from Honduras, I also began collecting blue school supplies to send to rural schools there, turning a small idea into a drive that involved my classmates and soccer teammates. Even my garage transformed into a sorting station for pens, notebooks, and backpacks. Each of these projects, whether local or global, was sparked by the same instinct: to ask, “What is missing here, and how can I help fill that gap?” Sometimes that meant developing a lesson no one asked for but many needed. Other times, it meant listening to a quiet comment from a student and turning it into a conversation, a lesson, or a mission. As I move forward into a nursing career, I will carry this mindset with me, one rooted in service, innovation, and a deep understanding of inequity. Whether in a clinic, a hospital, or a school, I will continue to ask hard questions and create bold answers for the communities that are so often overlooked. Because leadership, to me, is about turning care into action.

I am currently at the threshold between high school and college, preparing to enter a rigorous pre-nursing or biochemistry program with the ultimate goal of becoming a nurse, specializing either in pediatric, women’s health, or cardiology nursing. Though I haven’t switched careers or majors, I’ve gone through a personal journey of discovery that has clarified and affirmed my desire to pursue nursing, shaped by my academic interests, volunteer experiences, and a defining “aha” moment that brought it all into focus. My educational path has always been rooted in science and service. As an International Baccalaureate (IB) Diploma candidate, I have challenged myself with demanding coursework in biology, chemistry, and global studies. I’ve always been intrigued by how the human body works, especially the heart, which fascinates me with its rhythm, complexity, and vital role in sustaining life. Over time, this scientific interest evolved into something deeper: a commitment to health care as a means to uplift and support those most in need. I come from a bilingual, multicultural household, Spanish American by heritage, with summers spent in Sicily with my grandfather. My mom is a public school teacher, and watching her care for and advocate for children helped me realize the impact that patient, informed adults can have on young lives. Inspired by her, I started volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a school in a historically underserved area of southwest Denver. I ran bilingual workshops on hygiene and women’s health for young girls, helped in Pre-K classrooms, and realized that my presence (my voice, my smile, my care ...) made a difference. These moments gave me purpose. Still, my true “aha” moment came when I was leading a hygiene workshop for a group of second-grade girls. One girl asked, quietly and almost fearfully, “Can I get sick from growing up?” It broke my heart that she was afraid of her own development, and I realized in that moment how powerful it is to be a trustworthy source of knowledge and comfort. I didn’t just want to educate. I wanted to protect, to heal, and to advocate. That was the moment I knew I wanted to become a nurse. Since then, I’ve focused on preparing myself for this path. I’ve babysat throughout high school, gaining firsthand experience with child development and care. I’ve volunteered with Project C.U.R.E. and CO Feeds Kids, deepening my understanding of healthcare access and the social factors that affect well-being. I’ve learned that nursing is about understanding the whole person: their story, their fears, their hopes. I’m especially drawn to pediatric and women’s health nursing because these fields allow for long-term impact. Nurses in these specialties aren’t just present in a moment of crisis; they walk alongside patients through growth, healing, and transformation. I’m also drawn to cardiology because of its life-saving precision and the emotional strength it requires, a strength I’ve cultivated through my studies and service. As I prepare to begin college, I carry with me every question I’ve answered, every child I’ve comforted, every lesson I’ve learned from my mom and my community. Nursing is a destination I’ve been walking toward for years. I’m ready to serve with knowledge, compassion, and unshakable purpose.

I am currently at the threshold between high school and college, preparing to enter a rigorous pre-nursing or biochemistry program with the ultimate goal of becoming a nurse, specializing either in pediatric, women’s health, or cardiology nursing. Though I haven’t switched careers or majors, I’ve gone through a personal journey of discovery that has clarified and affirmed my desire to pursue nursing, shaped by my academic interests, volunteer experiences, and a defining “aha” moment that brought it all into focus. My educational path has always been rooted in science and service. As an International Baccalaureate (IB) Diploma candidate, I have challenged myself with demanding coursework in biology, chemistry, and global studies. I’ve always been intrigued by how the human body works, especially the heart, which fascinates me with its rhythm, complexity, and vital role in sustaining life. Over time, this scientific interest evolved into something deeper: a commitment to health care as a means to uplift and support those most in need. I come from a bilingual, multicultural household, Spanish American by heritage, with summers spent in Sicily with my grandfather. My mom is a public school teacher, and watching her care for and advocate for children helped me realize the impact that patient, informed adults can have on young lives. Inspired by her, I started volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a school in a historically underserved area of southwest Denver. I ran bilingual workshops on hygiene and women’s health for young girls, helped in Pre-K classrooms, and realized that my presence (my voice, my smile, my care ...) made a difference. These moments gave me purpose. Still, my true “aha” moment came when I was leading a hygiene workshop for a group of second-grade girls. One girl asked, quietly and almost fearfully, “Can I get sick from growing up?” It broke my heart that she was afraid of her own development, and I realized in that moment how powerful it is to be a trustworthy source of knowledge and comfort. I didn’t just want to educate, I wanted to protect, to heal, and to advocate. That was the moment I knew I wanted to become a nurse. Since then, I’ve focused on preparing myself for this path. I’ve babysat throughout high school, gaining firsthand experience with child development and care. I’ve volunteered with Project C.U.R.E. and CO Feeds Kids, deepening my understanding of healthcare access and the social factors that affect well-being. I’ve learned that nursing is about understanding the whole person: their story, their fears, their hopes. I’m especially drawn to pediatric and women’s health nursing because these fields allow for long-term impact. Nurses in these specialties aren’t just present in a moment of crisis; they walk alongside patients through growth, healing, and transformation. I’m also drawn to cardiology because of its life-saving precision and the emotional strength it requires, a strength I’ve cultivated through my studies and service. As I prepare to begin college, I carry with me every question I’ve answered, every child I’ve comforted, every lesson I’ve learned from my mom and my community. Nursing is a destination I’ve been walking toward for years. I’m ready to serve with knowledge, compassion, and unshakable purpose.

Choosing a career in nursing has been a thoughtful and personal decision shaped by my passion for science, my love for helping others, and my desire to support vulnerable populations, especially women, children, and patients with heart conditions. My main interests lie in women’s health, pediatric nursing, and cardiology because these fields combine my academic strengths and my heartfelt commitment to making a meaningful impact on people’s lives. From a young age, I was fascinated by the human body, especially how the heart functions. The heart is more than just an organ; it’s the center of life, pumping energy and vitality throughout the body. This interest led me to want to specialize in cardiology nursing, where I can care for patients with heart diseases, support them through recovery, and promote heart health education. Cardiology nursing demands a combination of technical knowledge, compassion, and the ability to respond quickly in critical situations—qualities I have worked to develop through my studies and volunteer experiences. Alongside cardiology, I am deeply drawn to women’s health and pediatric nursing. Growing up in a family where my mother is a public school teacher, I have always valued education and community support. I have had the privilege of volunteering at Valverde Elementary School, where I assist with workshops focused on hygiene and women’s anatomy for young girls. These experiences have shown me how important it is to provide young women with accurate, respectful, and empowering health education. Pediatric nursing appeals to me because it involves caring for children during critical stages of growth and development, offering comfort to families, and advocating for children’s health and well-being. My commitment to nursing started long before high school. One of my earliest memories involves playing nurse with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, who was my first “patient.” This early play sparked a lasting interest in care and healing. Over the years, babysitting and volunteering have provided hands-on experiences that have strengthened my skills in patience, empathy, and communication, essential qualities for any nurse. Academically, I have challenged myself in biology, chemistry, and health courses and am an International Baccalaureate Diploma candidate at Littleton High School. I have taken on leadership roles that require organization, communication, and teamwork, skills that translate well to nursing. My experiences have not only prepared me academically but have reinforced my desire to pursue nursing as a career. The combination of cardiology, women’s health, and pediatrics aligns perfectly with my personal interests and goals. I want to help patients manage heart conditions, support women through health education and care, and nurture children through some of their most vulnerable moments. Nursing in these fields offers me the opportunity to make a tangible difference while continuing to learn and grow professionally. Nursing is more than just a career choice, it is a calling for me. Whether caring for a child at the start of their life, supporting a woman’s health journey, or helping a patient recover from a heart condition, I am motivated by the possibility of improving lives every day. I am excited to pursue this path, confident that my dedication, compassion, and academic preparation will allow me to thrive and contribute meaningfully to the healthcare field.

Choosing a career in nursing is a decision rooted in both my personal experiences and my deep love for children. From a very young age, I have been drawn to caring for others, especially kids, and pediatric nursing feels like the perfect path to combine my passion for healthcare with my desire to make a positive impact on young lives. One of my earliest memories that sparked my interest in nursing was playing “doctor” and “nurse” with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita. I would pretend to listen to his heartbeat and take care of him like a real patient. That small, imaginative act planted a seed in me that has grown into a committed goal to help children through medicine and nursing. Trompita represents more than a toy, he symbolizes my lifelong dedication to caring and nurturing others. As I grew older, my passion for working with children only deepened. Volunteering at Valverde Elementary School in southwest Denver has been an incredibly rewarding experience. I assist in classrooms, but more importantly, I have had the chance to lead workshops focused on hygiene and women’s health for young girls. These workshops are special to me because they provide essential knowledge that helps empower girls to take care of their bodies with confidence and understanding. Sharing this information and seeing the girls engage and ask questions has been a powerful motivator to pursue pediatric nursing, where education and compassion go hand in hand. In addition to volunteering, I have babysat throughout high school, which gave me hands-on experience caring for children of all ages. Babysitting taught me patience, responsibility, and the importance of creating a safe and nurturing environment. These skills are vital in pediatric nursing, where understanding a child’s emotional and physical needs is key to providing the best care. My mother, a dedicated public school teacher, has also influenced my commitment to working with children. Growing up watching her impact the lives of her students inspired me to pursue a career that focuses on helping and educating young people. Her passion for teaching and her kindness showed me how one person can make a difference in a child’s life, and I want to do the same through nursing. Pediatric nursing appeals to me not only because of my love for children but also because it requires a special kind of dedication and empathy. Nurses in this field support families, educate parents, and care for children during some of their most vulnerable times. I want to be that comforting presence, providing both medical care and emotional support to children and their families. Academically, I have prepared myself by excelling in biology and health-related courses at Littleton High School and participating in the International Baccalaureate program. My volunteer work and babysitting have complemented my studies by giving me real-world experience that reinforces my academic knowledge. Ultimately, my choice to pursue pediatric nursing is driven by my desire to make a difference in children’s lives, just as I have been inspired and supported throughout mine. I look forward to a career where I can combine science, care, and education to help children grow up healthy and strong. With every child I care for, I hope to bring the same love and attention I once gave to Trompita, my first patient, and to inspire hope and healing in families for years to come.

The nursing industry interests me deeply because it represents a unique blend of science, compassion, and service that directly impacts people’s lives. Nursing is more than just a profession to me, it is a calling to support others in their most vulnerable moments with empathy, skill, and dedication. I am drawn to nursing because it offers a hands-on role in healthcare where I can combine my passion for biology and medicine with my desire to make a meaningful difference in my community. One of the most inspiring aspects of nursing is its focus on holistic care, not only treating illnesses but also caring for the emotional and psychological well-being of patients. This profession requires not just knowledge but kindness, resilience, and adaptability, qualities I have worked to develop in my own life. I want to be a nurse who listens deeply, advocates fiercely, and brings hope to those I serve. My career goals are centered on specialization, continuous learning, and community impact. I plan to pursue a nursing degree with a focus on cardiology or women’s health, two fields that resonate with my interests and values. Cardiology captivates me because the heart is a symbol of life and strength, and helping patients recover or manage heart conditions would be profoundly rewarding. Women’s health appeals to me for its emphasis on empowerment and education, supporting women through different stages of life with compassionate care. To prepare myself for a successful nursing career, I have embraced academic rigor and sought meaningful experiences. As an International Baccalaureate Diploma candidate at Littleton High School, I have excelled in biology and chemistry, subjects that lay the groundwork for understanding human anatomy and physiology. Maintaining the highest GPA in my class has shown my dedication to academic excellence, a crucial foundation for nursing studies. Beyond academics, I have gained valuable medical and community experience through volunteering. I volunteer at Valverde Elementary, mentoring younger students in math, which has strengthened my patience and communication skills, qualities essential for nursing. More directly related to healthcare, I have volunteered with Project C.U.R.E., a nonprofit organization that distributes medical supplies to underserved populations. This experience exposed me to global health disparities and deepened my commitment to equitable healthcare access. Additionally, my bilingual abilities, strengthened through family and cultural experiences, enable me to connect with diverse patients, an important skill in the increasingly multicultural field of nursing. Working full-time as a waitress in Gavin, Spain, also taught me resilience, teamwork, and empathy, all transferable to healthcare settings where collaboration and understanding are key. On a personal level, I have always been drawn to caregiving. I fondly remember playing nurse with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, as a child, which sparked my early interest in helping others. This childhood passion has evolved into a focused goal of becoming a nurse, motivated not by prestige or salary but by a genuine desire to serve. While I have not completed formal medical internships just yet, my volunteering experiences and academic background have laid a strong foundation for my future studies and clinical training. I look forward to gaining hands-on experience in hospitals and clinics to further develop my skills and confidence as a nurse. The nursing industry captivates me because it combines science, empathy, and the opportunity to create real change in people’s lives. My goals include specializing in cardiology or women’s health, excelling academically and clinically, and using my skills to serve diverse communities. Through academic achievement, volunteer work, and personal commitment, I am prepared and excited to take the next steps in this rewarding career path.

From a young age, I have been fascinated by the human body and the intricate ways it sustains life. This curiosity, combined with a deep desire to care for others, has inspired me to pursue a career in nursing. Nursing, to me, is the perfect blend of science, empathy, and service—a profession where I can use my skills to make a tangible difference in people’s lives every day. I am particularly interested in specializing in cardiology or women’s health, areas that deeply resonate with my passion for healing and advocacy. Growing up, I watched family members struggle with heart-related health issues, and I saw firsthand how specialized care could improve their quality of life. The heart, as the body’s vital organ, symbolizes strength and resilience, and working in cardiology nursing would allow me to support patients through some of their most vulnerable moments. Alternatively, women’s health captivates me because it encompasses not only physical care but also education and empowerment, helping women understand their bodies, make informed decisions, and access compassionate care throughout all stages of life. To prepare myself for this path, I have taken deliberate steps both academically and through community involvement. Academically, I am an International Baccalaureate Diploma candidate at Littleton High School, maintaining the top rank in my class. I have embraced challenging courses in biology and chemistry, subjects that form the foundation for understanding human health. These classes have fueled my interest in the sciences and equipped me with the knowledge to excel in pre-nursing studies. Beyond the classroom, I have sought out meaningful experiences that sharpen my interpersonal skills and deepen my commitment to healthcare. For example, I volunteer at Valverde Elementary, where I mentor younger students in math and foster a supportive environment for learning. This role has taught me patience, communication, and the importance of nurturing others—qualities that translate directly into nursing. Additionally, I have volunteered with Project C.U.R.E., a nonprofit that provides medical supplies to underserved communities. This work opened my eyes to healthcare disparities and inspired me to advocate for equitable access to medical resources. Another pivotal experience was working full-time as a waitress in Gavin, Spain, where I honed my bilingual skills and learned the value of hard work, empathy, and teamwork. Being bilingual allows me to connect with a broader range of patients, breaking down language barriers and ensuring everyone receives compassionate care regardless of their background. My passion for nursing is deeply personal, symbolized by a childhood memory of playing nurse and doctor with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita. He was my first “patient,” and even then, I felt drawn to caregiving and healing. This early fascination has grown into a determined pursuit of a nursing career grounded in science, compassion, and cultural sensitivity. Looking ahead, I plan to enter a nursing program focused on cardiology or women’s health, where I can combine my scientific interests with my dedication to patient-centered care. I envision myself working in hospitals or clinics that serve diverse populations, using my skills to improve heart health or support women’s well-being through all stages of life. I am excited to continue learning, growing, and ultimately making a positive impact in the lives of my patients and the communities I serve. In summary, my journey toward nursing is fueled by a lifelong curiosity about the human body, meaningful experiences in service and leadership, and a heartfelt desire to care for others. Whether specializing in cardiology or women’s health, I am committed to becoming a compassionate nurse who listens, heals, and advocates—bringing both knowledge and empathy to every patient I encounter.

Faith has been a foundational pillar in my life, shaping not only who I am but also how I lead and inspire others. For me, faith is more than a personal belief; it is a source of strength, compassion, and purpose. It has taught me to lead with humility, patience, and empathy, qualities that have guided me through challenges and allowed me to connect deeply with those I serve. My leadership style is rooted in these values. Faith encourages me to listen actively and serve selflessly. I believe a true leader uplifts others and nurtures a community where everyone feels valued and empowered. This belief shapes the way I engage with my peers, whether as president of Mock Trial, vice president of the Technology Student Association, or senior class vice president. One pivotal experience stands out where my faith played a critical role in my leadership journey. During my time as president of Mock Trial, our team faced a difficult season. Several members were discouraged by early losses, and the team’s morale was low. As the leader, I knew that pushing harder academically wasn’t enough—we needed encouragement that came from a place deeper than competition or strategy. I turned to the faith that grounds me and called for a meeting centered on support, hope, and resilience. In this meeting, I shared how faith teaches perseverance and trust in the process, even when the outcome feels uncertain. We reflected on the idea that leadership isn’t just about winning cases but about growing together, learning from setbacks, and staying committed to our shared goals. I encouraged my teammates to see each other as more than competitors—as a family working toward a common purpose. We closed with a moment of silence for focus and renewed energy. The transformation was remarkable. Our team regained its cohesion, and members began encouraging one another with genuine care and confidence. This shift in spirit fueled our success; we advanced to the state competition, and I earned an outstanding attorney award. More importantly, I witnessed how faith-inspired leadership fostered resilience and unity far beyond the courtroom. That experience shaped my vision for the future as a leader and a professional. It reinforced that leadership grounded in faith is about more than authority, it is about service and empowerment. Whether in school, community projects, or later in my career as a healthcare provider, I want to lead by uplifting others, especially those facing adversity. Faith teaches me that true strength comes from compassion and the willingness to walk alongside others in their struggles. As I pursue a medical degree and a career dedicated to serving underserved communities, I plan to carry these lessons with me. I envision a future where leadership means advocating for patients with kindness, resilience, and unwavering dedication. In conclusion, my faith deeply influences my leadership style by inspiring me to lead with humility, patience, and empathy. The experience with my Mock Trial team taught me that faith can restore hope and unity, transforming challenges into growth. This lesson continues to shape my vision: to be a leader who serves with heart, empowers others, and makes a meaningful difference wherever I go.

Though I proudly identify as a Spanish American, my family heritage includes a rich connection to Italy through my grandfather, who was born and raised in Sicily. Growing up, I spent many summers on the island, immersed in the vibrant culture, traditions, and values that have shaped my identity in ways I am still discovering today. This blend of Spanish and Sicilian roots gives me a unique perspective and deep appreciation for family, hard work, and community, values that closely align with those exemplified by Marcello Rosino: determination, resilience, and dedication. Sicily, with its rugged landscapes and storied history, taught me early on about the importance of resilience. Life on the island is shaped by challenges that require strength and perseverance. I saw this firsthand in my grandfather’s stories and the people I met there, individuals who faced hardships with unwavering resolve. Their determination to improve their lives and support their families, despite obstacles, inspired me deeply. I embody this spirit of resilience in my own life. As a first-generation Spanish American student navigating high school, I have faced challenges but always remained focused on my goals. Whether balancing rigorous academic work as an International Baccalaureate Diploma candidate or managing leadership roles like president of Mock Trial and vice president of the Technology Student Association, I demonstrate dedication to my passions and responsibilities every day. Determination is the force that drives me forward. I have maintained the highest academic standards in my class while actively engaging in community service, tutoring younger students, and volunteering with programs that support underserved populations. I understand that success requires consistent effort and a refusal to give up, even when the path is difficult. Like Marcello Rosino, I believe that steadfast dedication is the key to transforming dreams into reality. My connection to my Sicilian heritage also deepens my commitment to family and community. The warmth and support I experienced during my summers on the island taught me that individual achievement is most meaningful when it contributes to the well-being of others. This value fuels my desire to pursue higher education not just for personal growth but to make a positive impact on society. I plan to use my education to serve communities like mine, those rich in culture but sometimes lacking equitable opportunities. Inspired by my multicultural background, I aim to study pre-med with the goal of becoming a healthcare professional who understands the power of cultural competence in healing. By combining my academic knowledge with empathy rooted in my heritage, I want to address healthcare disparities and advocate for underserved populations. Moreover, my experiences have taught me the importance of bridging worlds: the Spanish and the Sicilian, tradition and modernity, challenges and opportunities. I hope to be a leader who embodies this bridge, fostering inclusion and understanding wherever I go. In conclusion, my personal connection to my Italian American heritage through my Sicilian grandfather has shaped my identity and values. The determination, resilience, and dedication that Marcello Rosino exemplifies are qualities I live by every day. Through education, I will honor these values by working to create meaningful, positive change in my community and beyond.

I have always known the mitochondria as the powerhouse of the cell, the organelle that extracts energy and makes it available for the body’s complex workflow. I see myself as the mitochondria within the communities I belong to: a source of energy, strength, and support that keeps everything functioning. This understanding drives my desire to pursue a career in nursing, where I can be a vital force that helps individuals and families heal and thrive. From a young age, I was drawn to caring for others. As a toddler, I spent hours playing nurses and doctors with my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, treating him as my first patient. That early imagination sparked a lifelong passion for medicine and compassion. Today, my dream is to become a nurse who serves with empathy, knowledge, and dedication, especially in communities that are often underserved or overlooked. As a Hispanic young woman growing up in Littleton, Colorado, I carry a unique perspective and set of experiences that I want to bring into healthcare. Being bilingual and bicultural allows me to connect deeply with diverse patients and families. I understand firsthand the importance of cultural respect and communication in medicine. My commitment to service is reflected not only in my academic achievements but also in my extracurricular activities. I serve as president of Mock Trial, where I lead my team with organization and confidence, much like mitochondria energize their cells. I have also expanded my leadership and teamwork skills as vice president of the Technology Student Association, competing in state-level events that combine creativity and modern technology, skills I plan to apply in the evolving field of nursing and medicine. In addition, I am the senior class vice president, representing the Hispanic demographic at my school and helping shape policies and events that support all students. Outside school, I volunteer through programs like Blue Star Supplies, which sends educational resources to students in Honduras. This project connects me to my heritage and fuels my passion for equity and community empowerment. Academically, I have challenged myself through rigorous coursework, including the International Baccalaureate Diploma program and Advanced Placement classes. My love for biology and chemistry has grown steadily, and I am eager to deepen my scientific understanding through a nursing degree that combines theory with hands-on practice. I believe nursing offers a unique opportunity to make a direct impact on patients’ lives through both medical expertise and compassionate care. Working full-time as a waitress in Gavin, Spain, last summer, also taught me important lessons about responsibility, hard work, and perseverance. These values will be essential as I pursue nursing, a demanding yet profoundly rewarding career. I am determined to overcome challenges and dedicate myself fully to learning how to provide the best care possible. Ultimately, I want to be a nurse who not only heals physical ailments but also empowers patients and uplifts my community. Like the mitochondria that fuel the cell, I aspire to energize and sustain the health of the people around me. My bilingualism, leadership skills, and personal experiences equip me to serve with empathy and cultural awareness. I am committed to building meaningful relationships with patients and contributing to a more equitable healthcare system. Nursing is more than a career choice for me, it is my way to give back to the communities that shaped me and to honor the roots and values I cherish. I look forward to the challenges and growth that nursing education will bring, confident that I will emerge ready to serve, heal, and inspire.

What inspires me most about women's health is how deeply it’s tied to everything—education, opportunity, equity, identity. Growing up in a bilingual household and spending time in both the U.S. and Spain, I saw early on how access to healthcare, especially for women, can vary dramatically. I watched women in my own family push through pain or silence questions about their bodies because they didn’t feel heard or understood by doctors. I saw language barriers, lack of trust, and systemic neglect all play a role. And it stuck with me. In high school, I began volunteering in a preschool classroom for Spanish-speaking families in southwest Denver. Many of the moms there reminded me of my own—strong, smart, but often overlooked by the systems around them. Some didn’t understand what vaccines their kids were getting, or they avoided medical appointments out of fear they wouldn’t be understood. I started to realize that women’s health involves a lot more than biology, it’s about access, culture, language, safety, and dignity. As I’ve grown academically, I’ve leaned into science and found a true passion for biochemistry. I love understanding the way the body works, down to the tiniest molecule. But I’ve never wanted to just sit in a lab. I want to use that knowledge to improve care and bring representation and innovation into spaces that have historically failed women, especially women of color, low-income women, and those navigating health systems in a second language. My dream is to become a doctor specializing in cardiology with a focus on women’s cardiovascular health. It’s a field where gender bias still leads to underdiagnosis, misdiagnosis, and disparities in treatment. I want to change that, not just by being a bilingual doctor who listens, but by advancing research and community outreach that meets women where they are. I want to help build clinics that center cultural competency, preventative care, and patient education, because no one should leave a medical appointment feeling more confused or dismissed than when they walked in. Everything I’ve done so far, from starting Blue Star Supplies for students in Honduras to tutoring younger students in math and literacy, has been rooted in this desire to serve and connect. I’ve worked hard in the classroom to earn my IB Diploma, STEM certificate, and valedictorian status, but I’ve always known success isn’t just about grades. It’s about how you use your voice and your knowledge to lift others up. At Emory University, where I’ll be studying biochemistry on the pre-med track, I hope to join research efforts related to hormone health, maternal outcomes, and disparities in heart disease. Eventually, I’d love to contribute to both policy and practice, ensuring women's health is treated as essential, not optional. Women deserve healthcare that is compassionate, accurate, and empowering. I’m committed to being part of the generation that helps make that a reality, not just in clinics, but in classrooms, communities, and conversations everywhere.

Right now, I give back by showing up. Consistently, intentionally, and with my whole heart. Whether I’m mentoring elementary schoolers at Valverde Elementary, volunteering with Project CURE to sort medical supplies, or working with TOPSoccer to support athletes with disabilities, I try to be present in the lives of others in ways that make them feel seen, supported, and valued. Giving back, to me, means looking for who isn’t being served and stepping in. It’s knowing that equity doesn’t happen automatically, but through action, empathy, and effort. That’s why I’ve worked hard to build trust with families in bilingual communities, translating not just language but emotion and care. I’ve also helped lead math mentoring (mathletes) through Littleton Public Schools, supporting gifted elementary students and making learning exciting and accessible. These aren’t huge acts in the grand scheme of things, but they matter. They are seeds, and I’m committed to planting them every chance I get. My mom, who immigrated from Spain, raised me to notice the people on the margins. Those who don’t always get invited in. Watching her navigate life in a new country while staying true to her values shaped how I see service. She always taught me to do what’s right, even when it’s hard. She also helped me recognize the power of community, of laughter over café con leche, and of leaning on others in times of need. Looking ahead, I plan to become a doctor who doesn’t just treat patients, but advocates for them. Every second counts and compassion must come quickly. I want to be the person who brings calm to chaos, who can not only perform medical procedures but also offer a steady hand and a reassuring voice. I see medicine as a way to respond to injustice, because access to quality care shouldn’t depend on where you live, what you earn, or what language you speak. Through my work with Blue Supplies for Honduras, I’ve seen firsthand what it means to deliver medical aid where systems fall short. That experience, alongside local volunteering, has shaped my belief that service should never stop at the clinic door. I want to design programs that bridge language gaps, break stigma around mental health, and make sure that every patient, no matter their background, is treated with dignity. I started with a pink stuffed elephant named Trompita as my first “patient,” pretending to be a doctor in my childhood bedroom. That curiosity has turned into a purpose. I now know I’m meant to be someone who shows up in crisis, who gives back through medicine, and who uplifts communities others might overlook. Because giving back isn’t something I do on the side. It’s the foundation of everything I hope to build.

Growing up in Denver, my family and I have always been loyal Nuggets fans. I still remember watching games in my living room with my dad, yelling at the screen during Jokic’s no-look passes and clutch three-pointers from Jamal Murray. The Nuggets are our team. But being a Nuggets fan doesn't mean I can’t recognize greatness, and LeBron James is greatness. Even though I’ve rooted against him more than once in the playoffs, I’ve been a fan of LeBron for as long as I can remember. What sets LeBron apart isn’t just the fact that he’s a four-time NBA champion or that he became the all-time leading scorer in league history. It’s not just his basketball IQ or his ability to dominate in every facet of the game: scoring, passing, defending, leading. It’s his consistency. LeBron has played at an elite level for over two decades. Most players are lucky to have a five-year prime. LeBron has had five of those, back to back. Watching him evolve from a teenage phenom in Cleveland to a veteran leader in Los Angeles has been like watching basketball history unfold in real time. Off the court, LeBron has also been a role model. He opened the “I PROMISE” School in Akron, Ohio, providing education and resources to underserved kids. As a student who’s worked with children in underserved communities, whether through tutoring at Valverde Elementary or supporting kids in Honduras through Blue Star Supplies, I deeply admire how LeBron uses his platform to create real impact. He’s not just a celebrity; he’s a leader, an activist, and a philanthropist who lives out the values he talks about. So, do I think LeBron is the greatest basketball player of all time? That’s the hardest question in sports. I think “GOAT” status depends on what you value. Jordan had six rings and a killer instinct that defined an era. Kobe had the Mamba Mentality that inspired millions. But LeBron has done something arguably even harder. He’s carried the weight of expectations since high school, adapted his game year after year, and remained relevant, dominant, and inspirational across two decades. What makes LeBron the GOAT in my eyes is the totality of his influence. He’s not just a champion. He’s a mentor, a businessman, a philanthropist, and a symbol of resilience. He’s turned pressure into performance, criticism into fuel, and opportunity into service. I can root for the Nuggets and still respect what LeBron has done for the game, and for the world beyond it. So yes. I’m a Nuggets fan. But I’m also a LeBron fan. Because real greatness transcends rivalries.

The achievement I’m most proud of isn’t a trophy or medal, but something much deeper. Becoming someone that younger students can look up to, especially in communities that mirror my own. Volunteering at Valverde Elementary, where I tutor bilingual students in southwest Denver, has shown me how service can be transformative, not just for others, but for myself. It’s where I’ve discovered my role not just as a student or mentor, but as a connector. Someone who translates knowledge, language, and care into something meaningful. Growing up as a bilingual daughter of a Spanish immigrant, I often moved between cultures. At times I felt invisible, unsure of where I fit. But at Valverde, I’ve found my place by helping students find theirs. One of the students I worked with looked at me one day and said, “I want to be a doctor like you.” I’m not there yet, but I smiled, because I knew I had already made an impact. I saw myself in her, and in that moment, I knew I was on the right path. Science, especially biology, has always been my passion. I like to think of myself as a mitochondrion, quiet but powerful, working behind the scenes to generate energy and keep everything running. That’s how I see my role in my community. Whether I’m mentoring elementary schoolers, volunteering with Project CURE, or organizing medical supplies for clinics in Honduras, I’m trying to power change, one small but purposeful act at a time. Helping others has helped me grow. It’s taught me empathy, leadership, and resilience. I’ve learned to listen, to step in when needed, and to speak up for those who may not be heard. These lessons have shaped my dream of becoming a doctor, specifically one who works in emergency services, where clarity, courage, and compassion are critical. I’ve seen how a kind voice and a calm presence can change someone’s day, or even their future. One of my earliest memories of wanting to be a doctor goes back to when I was little, pretending my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, was my first patient. Back then, healing was imaginary. Today, that desire has grown into a mission grounded in science and service. I want to make medicine accessible, compassionate, and culturally responsive. I want to treat not just symptoms, but the systems that leave people without care. This personal achievement, being a consistent presence for others, has changed me. It’s made me realize that the most important titles aren’t always on a resume. Sometimes, they sound like “mentor,” “listener,” or even just “friend.” That’s what I’ve become to so many students at Valverde. And in return, they’ve reminded me why I’m here, what I care about, and where I’m going. Because in the end, the mitochondria may be small, but they are essential. And that’s what I want to be too, an essential force for good in the lives of others.

Substance abuse has never been an abstract issue in my life. It has left fingerprints on people I love and influenced the path I’ve chosen to walk. I’ve seen how addiction can ripple through a family, distorting relationships, creating shame, and feeding cycles of silence. But I’ve also seen what happens when people find the strength and support to begin healing. That duality, the damage and the hope, is what has shaped my beliefs, deepened my empathy, and inspired my dream of becoming a doctor committed to mental health and substance abuse recovery. My mom’s side of the family is from Spain, where stigma around mental health and substance use was (and in many places still is) deeply rooted. My grandfather’s quiet suffering from depression was never named, never treated, and it left scars. Over time, self-medication and avoidance became patterns in parts of the extended family, leading to years of untreated trauma and dependence. Although my immediate household didn’t face substance abuse directly, we grew up around it, hearing the stories, noticing the changes in people we loved, and watching as some drifted away, pulled under by something they didn’t have the tools or support to fight. As a child, I didn’t understand it. But as a teenager volunteering at schools like Valverde Elementary in Denver, and with programs like TOPSoccer and Project C.U.R.E., I started seeing the broader picture. I worked with families navigating food insecurity, unstable housing, and parents struggling with addiction. I realized that healing is never just physical. It’s mental, emotional, and deeply tied to the environments people live in. Many of the kids I mentored didn’t have consistent support at home, and some carried more than a child should, worrying about a parent’s relapse or incarceration. Those experiences opened my eyes to the structural gaps in our healthcare system and how often substance abuse goes untreated because of poverty, shame, or a lack of resources. That’s why I want to become a doctor. I’m pursuing a STEM degree with a focus on biochemistry and pre-med, not just because I love science, but because I want to be part of a new generation of healthcare providers, ones who see addiction as a health issue, not a moral failing. My long-term goal is to serve communities where access to mental health care and addiction treatment is limited. I want to help them find a path forward. Not just in the moment of crisis, but in the long road of recovery that follows. I’ve also become deeply passionate about integrating mental health education into schools and outreach programs, starting conversations earlier so young people can recognize warning signs and find healthy coping mechanisms. Substance abuse is a devastating illness, but it is treatable. It requires compassion, persistence, and an unwavering belief in people’s ability to heal. This belief guides me every day. I carry it with me into college, into every volunteer shift, and one day, into every patient interaction I have. This scholarship would help make that future possible, not just for me, but for the countless people I hope to serve.

Mental illness isn’t something my family used to talk about. For generations, it showed up quietly, through sleepless nights, anxious overthinking, self-doubt, and chewed fingernails. My mom’s family in Spain, where she grew up Catholic in a culture that often prioritized silence over vulnerability, didn’t have the words or tools to talk about anxiety and depression. My grandfather struggled silently, and his daughters, including my mom, learned to carry the weight of that pain without asking for help. It wasn’t until I was older that I began to see how deeply this affected us. My mom, who is one of the strongest people I know, would replay conversations, worry endlessly about things out of her control, and struggle with insomnia. She always held it together for my sister and me, but the anxiety was there, quiet and constant. I saw how it shaped her decisions, her self-worth, and even the way she parented, always with love, but often with a weight on her shoulders she didn’t know how to put down. For my sister and me, anxiety showed up in different ways. Moments of self-doubt, perfectionism, and the pressure to never let anyone down. But one of the most powerful shifts came when my mom began to name what was happening. Through therapy, medicine, and support from family and friends, she started to understand her mental health, not as a weakness, but as something real that could be addressed. That openness helped us all breathe a little easier. It also helped shape my purpose. From a young age, I wanted to help people. When I was little, I used to pretend to be a doctor, diagnosing my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, as my first "patient." But as I got older, I began to understand that medicine isn’t just about curing physical illness, it’s about seeing people as whole beings, with emotions and stories and pain they may not always show. Living with a family history of anxiety and depression gave me empathy and insight. It made me notice when others were hurting. It made me listen more closely. And it made me want to become the kind of doctor who doesn’t just rush through appointments, but truly sees and hears the people in front of her. Now, as I prepare to attend college, hopefully in Georgia, where I plan to major in biochemistry and pursue pre-med, I carry this mission with me. I want to work in underserved communities, where mental health resources are too often lacking. I want to break the silence for others like my mom, who for so long didn’t have the words to name what she felt. I want to create spaces of healing, especially for young people who think they have to hide their struggles to be strong. Mental illness shaped my family in painful ways, but it also brought us closer. It gave me a calling. And it’s part of the reason I believe so deeply in the power of medicine. Not just to heal bodies, but to heal hearts, families, and futures.

I grew up in a house with the smell of olive oil and incense. My mom is from Spain. A proud, warm, and deeply Catholic woman who taught me how to cross myself before meals and light candles for the Virgen del Pilar. She would press a kiss to my forehead before school and whisper “que Dios te bendiga,” and I always felt it, that quiet kind of love that has nothing to prove. For a long time, her faith was enough for both of us. I’d follow along at Mass, kneeling and standing at the right times, mouthing the prayers in Spanish, and listening to the creak of wooden pews and the silence that hung between verses. But as I got older, I began to ask questions. Not just about religion, but about who I was, what I believed, and what kind of impact I wanted to make in the world. I didn’t walk away from faith; I just needed to find my own way to it. And I did, just not all at once. I didn’t have a single moment where I “found” the Lord. It was more like a hundred small moments that built on each other. It was seeing the joy on a TOPSoccer athlete’s face when they scored a goal. It was packing medical supplies at Project C.U.R.E. and realizing that something as small as a thermometer could change someone’s life. It was tutoring a student who didn’t believe in herself until I did. Slowly, in all of those spaces where I was giving, I began to feel filled. And that’s when I realized: God was already there, in the work, in the service, in the community. I hadn’t found Him in a church pew. I’d found Him in motion. My faith now is deeply personal. It’s not always loud or dramatic, but it is constant. I feel it when I sit quietly before a big decision. I feel it when I walk into an unfamiliar place to serve. I feel it in the whisper that says, “You are enough. Keep going.” I carry my faith not like a banner, but like a compass. Quiet, steady, and always pointing me toward people in need. That compass is what led me to medicine. I want to become a doctor, not just because I love science, but because I believe healing is holy work. I’m especially drawn to emergency medicine. Those intense, unpredictable moments when people are scared, hurting, and unsure. I want to be the one who stays calm. Who listens. Who acts with both precision and compassion. Who doesn’t just see a patient, but sees a person. My desire to serve medically underserved communities is rooted in both my cultural identity and my faith. As a bilingual Latina, I’ve seen how language barriers, lack of access, and systemic inequities make it harder for people, especially immigrants and people of color, to get quality care. I want to bridge that gap. I want to bring not only my skills, but also my lived experience and empathy into every exam room. When I was little, I used to pretend to be a doctor. I had a pink stuffed elephant named Trompita, and she was my first patient. I’d wrap her in Band-Aids, listen to her heartbeat with a toy stethoscope, and make up diagnoses based on whatever I had learned that week. It was pretend, of course, but the desire was real. Now, as I prepare to attend college and eventually medical school, that childhood dream is becoming a calling. College is a huge step toward making that dream a reality. I’ve been accepted to a university in Georgia and will be majoring in biology on the pre-med track. It’s exciting, and also overwhelming. My parents have always supported me, but financially, this journey is a challenge. Between tuition, textbooks, lab fees, and travel, the cost adds up quickly. I plan to work part-time while I study, but I also want to continue volunteering, shadowing doctors, and engaging in research. A scholarship would be a huge relief. It would allow me to say yes to those formative experiences without constantly worrying about how to make ends meet. I don’t take this opportunity lightly. I know that becoming a doctor isn’t just about intelligence. It’s about grit, discipline, compassion, and a deep commitment to others. I’ve spent my high school years learning how to balance rigorous academics with leadership and service. I’m the valedictorian of my graduating class, a National Hispanic Scholar, an IB Diploma candidate, and the captain of my varsity soccer team. But the things I’m most proud of aren’t in a transcript. They’re in the hours I’ve spent helping students in Denver’s most underserved schools, in the sweat I’ve poured into food banks and supply drives, and in the joy I’ve found showing up for my community, again and again. My goal isn’t just to succeed, it’s to make a difference. I want to graduate, go to medical school, and return to serve the communities that raised me. I want to mentor students who look like me and remind them that their dreams are valid. I want to use medicine not just as a science, but as a ministry. Faith is what gives this dream weight and direction. It’s what reminds me that I’m not alone, even when the road feels long. It’s what tells me that service isn’t something extra, it’s the very heart of my calling. I believe God planted this purpose in me early on, maybe even before Trompita, and I’ve spent every year since learning how to live it out. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. Your support would not just fund my education. It would empower me to walk more boldly into the future God is calling me toward. It would help me serve more, learn more, and become the kind of doctor who heals with both hands and heart. And above all, it would remind me once again that I’m not walking this journey alone.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I’m a first-generation, bilingual student shaped by two cultures, Spain and the United States, and by a deep desire to serve others. My passion for STEM, particularly medicine, didn’t start with a textbook or lab. It started with Trompita, my pink stuffed elephant. She was my first patient. I would wrap her ears in gauze, take her temperature with a pencil, and scribble “prescriptions” in my notebook... As I grew older, play turned to purpose. I began volunteering in underserved schools like Valverde Elementary, where I work with students who remind me of myself—navigating multiple cultures, often overlooked, but full of brilliance. I tutored gifted elementary math students, led STEM enrichment activities, and saw how science could empower students who had once doubted themselves. It reminded me that representation matters. That seeing someone who looks like you in a lab coat, or at the front of a class, can change the way you see your future. Still, my journey hasn’t been without challenges. I remember being bullied on the school bus for my shoes (my Skechers weren’t “cool”) and for bringing bocadillos instead of PB&J. I didn’t have an accent, but I always felt slightly out of place. Those moments stayed with me, not as shame, but as fuel. They shaped my desire to create spaces where no one feels like an outsider. In medicine, especially in emergency services, that empathy matters. It’s what drives me to want to become not just a doctor, but a first responder, someone who shows up for others when it matters most. What excites me about STEM is its potential to solve real human problems. I’m especially interested in how technology can improve health outcomes in underserved communities, in places like the ones where I’ve volunteered. I believe in culturally responsive healthcare and in tools that help patients feel seen, heard, and respected. One day, I want to help design those tools while working on the front lines of care. This dream isn’t just about science. It’s about service. It’s about working toward equity. It's about becoming the kind of doctor who listens, explains, and never forgets the quiet strength of a little girl patching up her elephant with Band-Aids. I plan to study biology on a pre-med track in Georgia, with the long-term goal of entering emergency medicine. I know the road ahead won’t be easy. College will be expensive. I plan to work on campus to help cover expenses like books, transportation, and internships, but a scholarship like this one would ease the financial pressure and allow me to focus more fully on my academics and training. I’m ready to work hard. I’ve been preparing my whole life. From Trompita to tutoring, from the bus ride to the hospital floor, I know this is the path I was meant to walk.

Empowerment. Let’s be real, it sounds like a word that’s meant to make us all feel like we can conquer the world. And I’m all for that. To me, empowerment isn’t about the grand speeches or flashy moments; it’s the everyday feeling of knowing you’ve got the power to make decisions, overcome challenges, and truly make your voice count. It’s about looking at the mountain ahead and saying, “I’m climbing that sucker,” and doing it with confidence. A great example of empowerment in my life came when I took over as president of my high school’s Mock Trial team. Let me set the scene: a bunch of nervous first-timers trying to figure out what the heck a legal argument even sounds like. But instead of freaking out (which, trust me, I wanted to do), I decided to empower my team. I gave them the space to build their confidence, gave them guidance, and even took time to make sure they felt prepared for each round. And guess what? We made it to state, and I walked away with an “Outstanding Attorney” award. Pretty sweet for a bunch of law newbies, right? But empowerment doesn’t always come with trophies or medals. It’s in the little things. Whether it’s helping a friend with math homework, cheering someone on during a tough time, or simply listening when someone needs to be heard. Empowerment is all about lifting others up, showing them they matter, and helping them realize their own potential. It’s a chain reaction, one that can change lives. Growing up in a bicultural household (my mom’s from Spain, my dad’s from North Dakota), I learned that empowerment is also about embracing who you are and where you come from. Being bilingual has opened doors to connecting with people from all walks of life, helping them navigate challenges, and letting them know they’re not alone. Whether it’s offering advice to someone new to this country or simply speaking their language, it’s empowering to know I can make a difference by just being myself. My mom’s journey as an immigrant and educator also taught me a lot about the power of perseverance. She’s faced challenges I can’t even imagine. Working to establish her career in a new country, raising a family, and juggling a classroom full of kids. Watching her do this made me realize that true empowerment often comes from pushing through adversity and showing up for others when they need it most. Empowerment has taught me that I don’t need to have all the answers or be perfect. What matters is that I show up, I try, and I help others along the way. Whether I’m leading a team, supporting a friend, or tackling the next big challenge in my life, empowerment is the tool I use to get through it all. It’s the reminder that I can do this. And when I don’t know how, I’ll learn along the way. Empowerment doesn’t come with a cape. It’s about being bold enough to believe in yourself, strong enough to lift others up, and humble enough to keep learning. So here’s to all of us finding our inner superheroes, and just maybe, we won’t need the cape after all.

From an early age, I have been drawn to the idea of serving others, especially during times of need. This passion was first sparked when I saw the impact that healthcare professionals had on my own family during medical emergencies. The way they handled stressful situations with calmness, precision, and empathy inspired me deeply. I wanted to be the person that others could rely on in their most challenging moments. As a young child, I started practicing my “medical” skills on my stuffed animal, Trompita—a pink elephant that I used to pretend was my first patient. I would carefully "examine" her, checking her imaginary vitals and providing comfort through my actions. Trompita wasn’t just a toy; she represented my early understanding of empathy and care. This experience planted the seed of a lifelong desire to pursue a career in emergency services, where I can help people in urgent, high-stress situations. Throughout high school, I volunteered with organizations such as Project C.U.R.E., where I helped send medical supplies to underserved areas, and CO Feeds Kids, where I helped provide food to children in need. These experiences shaped my understanding of what it means to serve others. I was fortunate to work alongside people from different walks of life, learning firsthand how vital it is to have a compassionate and dedicated approach to community service. These experiences made me realize that helping others goes beyond a single act; it’s about creating sustainable change and fostering a sense of belonging for everyone involved. My interest in emergency services has always been grounded in my passion for responding to urgent needs and making a direct impact. I want to study a field related to emergency medical services or public health, equipping myself with the knowledge and skills to handle medical emergencies effectively. Working in emergency services, such as being an EMT or paramedic, excites me because it allows me to be on the front lines, providing immediate assistance to those in critical need. In college, I plan to pursue a degree in a field related to emergency services or healthcare, with the goal of becoming an emergency medical technician (EMT) or paramedic. I believe these roles will allow me to use my skills to make a real difference, especially in high-pressure situations where lives are on the line. After gaining hands-on experience, I also hope to eventually work in disaster response and public health, ensuring that communities are better prepared for and can recover from emergencies. The journey to becoming an emergency services professional will require hard work and commitment. I plan to work on campus to help offset some of the financial burdens associated with my education, but I know that this scholarship would significantly ease the financial strain. It would allow me to focus on my studies and gain valuable experience through internships and volunteer work, which are essential in preparing me for the fast-paced and challenging environment of emergency services. My dedication to community service has been a driving force behind my desire to work in emergency services. Throughout my life, I have witnessed the disparities in access to healthcare and emergency care, especially in underserved communities. Whether through volunteer work with organizations like TOPSoccer or Valverde Elementary, I’ve learned that emergency services are not just about responding to crises but also about creating a supportive environment where people feel cared for and safe. In my future role in emergency services, I hope to provide not only life-saving care but also compassionate support to those who are in distress. The most important thing I’ve learned from my volunteering experience is that providing emergency care is as much about the emotional comfort you provide as it is about medical intervention. The ability to offer reassurance and empathy in high-stress situations is a critical part of being effective in emergency services. This scholarship would help me achieve my goal of becoming an EMT or paramedic, as it would ease some of the financial burdens that come with my education. Winning this scholarship would be an invaluable step toward achieving my goals of working in emergency services and making a difference in my community. The experiences I’ve had have reinforced my belief in the importance of serving people during critical moments. This scholarship would help ensure that I can continue to pursue my education in emergency services without financial stress, allowing me to focus on what truly matters: helping those in need and contributing to the safety and well-being of my community.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I will be majoring in biochemistry at Oxford College of Emory University in Georgia. My goal is to become a doctor, with a long-term interest in cardiology, health equity, and ensuring access to quality healthcare for underserved communities. This scholarship would ease a significant financial burden for my family and me. As a first-generation US college student and the daughter of a Spanish immigrant, I’ve had to navigate the complexity of the U.S. college system mostly on my own—learning about FAFSA, CSS profiles, and student loans while also trying to understand all the hidden costs of higher education: room and board, textbooks, lab fees, transportation, and basic living expenses. My mom has worked tirelessly since moving to this country, and she’s always emphasized the value of education, even when the system didn’t make it easy to understand. From figuring out the cost breakdowns to applying for aid, it’s been a confusing process. This scholarship would offer more than just financial help—it would be a vote of confidence in everything I’m working toward. Beyond academics, I’ve always been deeply involved in community service. I’ve spent over 100 hours volunteering with CO Feeds Kids, Project C.U.R.E., and at Valverde Elementary, where I help bilingual students build confidence in literacy and math. I also started a project—Blue Stars Supplies—that sends educational materials to rural communities in Honduras. These experiences have shaped my belief that healthcare, like education, is a basic right. My dream is to merge science and service in a medical career where I’m not just treating patients but advocating for them. As a student who earned a 4.9 GPA, the IB Diploma, and the Seal of Biliteracy in Spanish and French, I’m ready for the academic rigor of college. But I also know that success doesn’t just come from grades—it comes from heart, community, and perseverance. I’ve been a waitress in Spain, a youth soccer coach, a mock trial co-president, and a math tutor through my high school’s athlete mentorship program. Every role has helped prepare me for the responsibility that comes with my future career. This scholarship would allow me to focus on my studies and service work without the constant pressure of how to afford college. It would help me purchase the materials I need for class, afford transportation to internships or research opportunities, and even just have the peace of mind that I’m not placing too much strain on my family. I’ve always believed in the power of science to change lives—and in the power of representation. As a Latina in STEM, I know how important it is to see someone who looks like you in a white coat, speaking your language, and advocating for your health. That’s the kind of doctor I plan to be. Thank you for considering my application. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to making that dream a reality—and one step closer to giving back to the communities that shaped me.

I plan to make a positive impact on the world the same way mitochondria power a cell: by being a constant, often unseen source of energy for the communities that need it most. As a future doctor, I don’t just want to treat individuals—I want to fuel systems that heal, uplift, and empower. I’ve always believed that science and service belong together, and my goal is to blend medicine with compassion to address the deep health disparities affecting underserved communities. Growing up bilingual and bicultural, I learned early that identity can be a bridge and a burden. My mom is from Spain, and our home has always been filled with the rhythms of No Me Conoce—a song I once loved just for the beat, but now see as a metaphor for being misunderstood or unseen. In medicine, too, so many patients—immigrants, people of color, low-income families—aren’t truly seen. My career goal is to become a cardiologist who doesn’t just understand the heart medically, but socially: someone who listens, who meets people where they are, and who can speak both the literal and cultural language of her patients. Throughout high school, I’ve been building the foundation to live this out. I’m graduating as valedictorian and an IB Diploma candidate with a 4.816 GPA, Seal of Biliteracy in Spanish and French, and the National Hispanic Recognition award. But grades are just one piece. The mitochondria metaphor is about what fuels you when nobody’s watching, and for me, that’s been service. Whether coaching youth with disabilities through TOPSoccer, mentoring young mathletes, volunteering weekly at Valverde Elementary, or leading Blue Stars Supplies to send educational materials to Honduras, I’ve prioritized being of use to others—especially children and families who face systemic obstacles. My resume reflects that commitment: over 100 hours volunteering with CO Feeds Kids, Project C.U.R.E., and in DPS schools. I’ve also worked as a youth soccer coach, a waitress at a restaurant in Spain, and a babysitter—jobs that taught me patience, communication, and responsibility. I’ve held leadership roles as Senior Class Vice President, Vice President of our Technology Student Association, and Co-President of Mock Trial, where I learned how to advocate clearly and ethically. My dream is to attend Emory University and eventually earn an MD with a focus in cardiology and health equity. I want to work in clinics and hospitals that serve multilingual, low-income, and immigrant communities—people like my own family, who sometimes had to Google Translate their way through doctor visits. I also hope to return to public schools like the ones I attended and create programs that bring basic health education and early prevention into classrooms, especially in communities like southwest Denver. My mitochondria have always been people: the kids I tutor, my hardworking mom, the Valverde families who hug me after translating for them, and even the ones who “don’t know me”—who judge by appearance or accent—because they remind me to lead with integrity, not ego. Just like that song, I’ve learned to own the beat of my life and direct it toward good. This career path isn’t about status or money. It’s about presence. It’s about showing up for people with both scientific skill and human understanding. I believe medicine is one of the most direct and lasting ways to improve someone’s quality of life—and when done right, it can ripple out across families and generations. That’s the kind of impact I plan to make. Like mitochondria, I’ll be the quiet energy keeping communities strong and alive—even if they don’t always know my name.

From the time I was little, I’ve been drawn to the human body—not just how it functions, but how it can carry trauma, resilience, and joy. My first “patient” was Trompita, my pink stuffed elephant. I would pretend to check her heartbeat, take her temperature, and whisper that she was going to be okay. I didn’t know then that I wanted to become a doctor. But I knew I wanted to help. I’ve chosen to study biochemistry on the pre-med track because I’m fascinated by the science behind healing and passionate about making healthcare more equitable. As a bilingual student and daughter of a Spanish immigrant, I’ve often been the bridge between systems—between English and Spanish, between families and teachers, between underserved communities and the resources they need but can’t always access. In medicine, I want to continue being that bridge, especially for patients who feel overlooked, unheard, or misunderstood. My short-term goal is to excel at Oxford College of Emory University in Georgia, where I will build a strong foundation in science while also continuing my community work. I want to shadow physicians, work in clinics that serve diverse populations, and explore how technology can make healthcare more accessible. Long-term, I plan to attend medical school, specialize in cardiology, and work in communities where language, culture, or income too often create barriers to care. Being an underrepresented minority in medicine gives my goals deeper purpose. I know what it’s like to translate at a pharmacy counter for a loved one. I’ve seen family members avoid doctors because they don’t feel comfortable or understood. I’ve watched kids at Valverde Elementary in southwest Denver struggle with asthma, dental pain, or anxiety, and not always get the help they need. I want to be a doctor who doesn’t just treat symptoms but understands stories—who looks like the communities I serve and speaks their language. This scholarship would make a meaningful difference for me and my family. As a first-generation US college student, I’ve had to learn the U.S. college system from scratch—navigating FAFSA, CSS profiles, loans, and rising costs of tuition, room and board, books, and basic necessities. My mom has worked incredibly hard to support me, but the expenses are overwhelming. Receiving this scholarship would reduce the financial strain and allow me to focus on my academics and service without constantly worrying about money. I carry with me the mitochondria—my metaphor for resilience and strength—and the lyrics of “No Me Conoce,” a reminder that there’s power in being seen. I’m proud to be from where I’m from, and I know who I want to become: a compassionate, capable doctor who brings science, language, and empathy into every room. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity. It would help me not only reach my dreams—but give me the tools to help others reach theirs too.

One of the national health issues I care most deeply about is mental health—particularly among youth in marginalized communities. While mental health has become a more widely discussed topic in recent years, there’s still an overwhelming stigma around it, especially in immigrant families and communities of color. I know this from personal experience. Growing up as the daughter of a single mom from Spain, I often felt torn between two cultures. I was bilingual before I even knew what that meant, translating homework instructions for my mom while also trying to navigate a world where my identity felt “othered.” I was bullied in elementary school for the shoes I wore and the food in my lunchbox. I’d go home and tell my mom, and she would hug me and say, “No les hagas caso”—don’t pay them any mind. But I did. The comments stuck. Back then, I didn’t have the language to describe what I was feeling—only that something was heavy in my chest, and I didn’t know how to name it. As I grew older, I began to understand that what I had experienced wasn’t just teasing. It was a form of exclusion that led to anxiety, isolation, and lingering self-doubt. I also began to notice that I wasn’t alone. Friends and classmates struggled silently with depression, panic attacks, or body image issues. But rarely did we talk about it out loud. That’s why I’m passionate about advocating for better mental health support, especially in schools and in underserved communities. Early intervention matters. Representation matters. Language access matters. No student should have to suffer in silence because they don’t have the vocabulary—or the support system—to seek help. As a volunteer at Valverde Elementary and TOPSoccer, I’ve seen firsthand how crucial emotional safety is for kids to thrive. I’ve also learned the power of community, empathy, and advocacy. Whether I'm coaching, tutoring, or just listening, I try to be the adult I once needed. Through my involvement with Project C.U.R.E., CO Feeds Kids, and my own project, Blue Stars Supplies, I’ve realized that healing comes in many forms—and that addressing mental health is just as vital as providing physical resources. I plan to continue this work in college and beyond. At Oxford College of Emory in Georgia, I’ll study biochemistry and pre-med with the goal of becoming a doctor who serves communities that are often left behind. I want to combine my love of science with my understanding of identity and culture to create more inclusive, trauma-informed care. Eventually, I hope to integrate mental health education into primary care models and advocate for bilingual, culturally competent services. Mental health isn't a side issue. It's a foundation for every other kind of health. If we want healthier communities, we need to start with healing minds—and I’m committed to being part of that solution.

Adversity often arrives in the smallest moments—a look, a comment, a laugh at your expense. For me, it arrived on a school bus when I was eight years old. I was wearing my favorite Sketchers, the ones my mom bought on sale because we were trying to save money. A group of kids started laughing and pointing. “Why do your shoes look like that?” one of them said. Another whispered something about my “weird lunches.” It wasn’t the first time I felt different, but it was the first time I realized that difference could be used against me. My mom is from Spain, and growing up bilingual and bicultural in a predominantly white, middle-class suburb often felt like walking between two worlds. At home, I was proud of my Spanish roots—of my loud, joyful family dinners, of how my mom would mix Spanish proverbs into everyday conversations, of our visits to Spain every few summers. But at school, that pride sometimes felt like a liability. I was teased for my accent when I slipped up. Kids would make fun of the food in my lunchbox. I learned to code-switch early: hiding parts of myself to fit in, shrinking who I was to survive. That early adversity planted a seed of self-doubt that followed me for years. But it also made me resilient. Instead of shutting down, I pushed forward. I found strength in my difference. I threw myself into leadership, becoming co-president of mock trial and vice president of both TSA and my senior class. I channeled my empathy into action—volunteering with Valverde Elementary, where many students remind me of my younger self, and working with TOPSoccer, CO Feeds Kids, and Project C.U.R.E. I created Blue Stars Supplies to send educational materials to Honduras. In every act of service, I saw myself: a kid who just wanted to feel seen and supported. Adversity shaped me into someone who leads with compassion. It made me a better listener, a more intuitive mentor, and a more driven student. I worked hard—earning a 4.816 GPA, the IB Diploma, and the Seal of Biliteracy in both Spanish and French—not to prove myself to others, but to honor the parts of me that once felt invisible. My advice to anyone facing similar challenges is this: don’t let the world convince you that your identity is a disadvantage. What makes you different is what makes you powerful. Lean into your roots, even if they feel heavy some days. Use your experiences to lift others up. Today, I’m preparing to attend Oxford College of Emory in Georgia, with the dream of becoming a doctor and serving communities who often feel overlooked. I know adversity will find me again in new ways—but now, I see it not as a threat, but as a teacher.

When I think about mental health and how it has shaped my life, I go back to the school bus. I was in elementary school, and I remember sitting quietly, wearing my Sketchers—white with silver accents—when a group of kids started laughing and pointing. “Those shoes are so ugly,” one of them sneered. Another chimed in, “Are they even real?” I didn’t have the language for it then, but I knew the deeper reason why I felt different: my mom is from Spain. I spoke Spanish at home, and we didn’t always do things the way other families did. We shopped at discount stores. We packed bocadillos instead of Lunchables. At home, I loved that part of myself. On the bus, it made me a target. Being bullied at such a young age left an invisible mark on my mental health. I started questioning everything about myself—how I talked, what I wore, who I was. It’s a strange thing to shrink yourself when you’re only nine years old. I stopped raising my hand in class. I tried to hide my accent. I even asked my mom if we could stop speaking Spanish at home, something I now deeply regret. As I got older, I began to understand that my experience wasn’t just about shoes—it was about belonging. And with that understanding came strength. Over time, I learned to embrace my identity, not just endure it. I became a leader in school, mentoring younger students through mathletes and volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a school with many Spanish-speaking families. I joined mock trial and started speaking up again. I’m now the co-president. I took my voice back. I also learned to recognize when others might be going through something similar. When I volunteer with TOPSoccer—helping athletes with disabilities—or work with Project C.U.R.E. to support underserved communities, I do it not just out of service, but from deep empathy. I know what it feels like to be invisible. I never want someone else to feel that way if I can help it. Mental health isn’t always about crisis—it’s about identity, and how the world treats you for it. The long-term impact of those bus rides wasn’t just sadness. It was a deeper awareness of myself and others, and a fierce desire to make sure the spaces I’m in are more inclusive than the ones I grew up in. Now, as I prepare to study at Oxford College of Emory in Georgia, I carry that experience with me—not as a wound, but as motivation. I want to become a doctor and serve marginalized communities. I want to use science, like biochemistry and cardiology, to heal the body—but I also want to continue healing the kinds of emotional wounds that bullying can cause. Because behind every pair of shoes, behind every accent, is a person who deserves to feel safe and seen.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I am the daughter of a Spanish mother and an American father, raised in a bilingual home where compassion and curiosity were as foundational as any subject I studied in school. I’m graduating as valedictorian from Littleton High School with an IB Diploma and will be attending Oxford College of Emory University in Georgia to study biochemistry. My goal is to become a doctor—specifically a cardiologist—to serve underserved communities and improve health equity using both medical knowledge and the power of technology. I’ve always been drawn to how the human body works, but what truly sparked my desire to go into medicine was realizing how unequal access to healthcare can be. I volunteer at Valverde Elementary in southwest Denver, where many families face language and financial barriers to receiving proper medical care. Translating, mentoring, and connecting with these families reminded me that medicine isn’t just about treatment—it’s about trust, listening, and advocacy. I plan to use my bilingual skills and cultural awareness to bridge gaps in healthcare, making sure patients are not only heard but understood. I like to say that I want to be the mitochondria of any community I serve—the powerhouse that helps others function, thrive, and heal. I’ve carried this metaphor with me through seven years of marching band, thirteen years of soccer, and leadership roles in mock trial, TSA, and student government. Whether I'm co-leading my school's mock trial team or tutoring younger students in mathletes, I see leadership as service. Like the mitochondria, it’s often invisible but essential. What also fuels me is my love of learning, especially at the intersection of science and justice. I’ve spent over 60 hours on my “Blue Stars Supplies” passion project, sending educational materials to schools in Honduras, and over 100 hours volunteering with Project C.U.R.E. and CO Feeds Kids. These experiences taught me that service is not an extracurricular—it’s a lifestyle. One of the most humbling moments was helping distribute food to families and realizing that the most meaningful change often comes in the form of small, consistent acts. My journey hasn’t always been easy. I remember being bullied in elementary school for something as simple as my shoes. I would go home, tell my mom, and that would be the end of it. But now I understand how much harder it is for students facing deeper, more persistent challenges, like mental health issues or discrimination. I want to be a doctor who sees the full person, not just their symptoms. Someone who treats with empathy and cultural sensitivity. There’s a song called No Me Conoce—“They don’t know me.” That line has always stuck with me because too many people are written off without anyone really trying to know them. I want to be the kind of doctor who sees patients for who they truly are and helps them become who they hope to be. Studying in Georgia will be the first step in expanding my knowledge and my reach. Through my studies in biochemistry and beyond, I plan to work in both clinics and communities, pushing for policies and practices that make healthcare more inclusive. I know that becoming a doctor is not just a career for me—it’s a calling to serve, educate, and empower. That’s the kind of impact I want to make.

Growing up, I was always drawn to things that sparked—literally and figuratively. While some kids were playing video games or watching cartoons, I spent hours in the garage with my uncle, who worked as a mechanic and welder. I was fascinated by how a few precise movements could transform metal into something strong, useful, and permanent. The first time I saw him weld two pieces of steel together, it felt like magic. But as I got older, I realized it wasn’t magic—it was skill, grit, and pride in a job well done. What I love about welding is that it's hands-on and deeply creative, even though people don’t always see it that way. Welders build the skeletons of buildings, the frames of bridges, and the heart of so many machines we rely on. It’s an art and a science—where precision, problem-solving, and patience all come together. I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands, whether it was helping fix fences on a ranch one summer or repairing bikes in my neighborhood for extra cash. But it wasn’t until I took a welding intro course at my high school that I really saw this as more than a hobby—it was a path. Our instructor showed us how to respect the tools, how to troubleshoot problems, and how to take pride in every weld. I’ll never forget the satisfaction of finishing my first clean bead or the moment I realized I could actually make a career out of this. Welding isn’t just something I’m good at—it’s something I care about. I also like that welding opens doors. It’s a trade that’s in demand, with opportunities across industries—construction, manufacturing, aerospace, even art installations. And with the right certifications and hard work, I know I can grow. Eventually, I’d love to specialize in underwater welding or pipefitting, and maybe even start my own mobile welding business one day. I come from a family where not everyone went to college, but everyone worked hard. Welding gives me the chance to follow a professional path that’s both respected and needed, without taking on a mountain of debt. That means a lot to me and my family. I want to make them proud by learning a skill that allows me to support myself, give back, and maybe even mentor someone like me one day. What excites me most is knowing that in just a few years, I could be out in the world building something real—something that lasts. I don’t need a desk or a fancy office. I just need my torch, my helmet, and the drive to do good work. That’s why I see a future in welding.

My decision to pursue a career in nursing is rooted in both my personal experiences and my commitment to service. Growing up bicultural—between Colorado and my mother’s hometown in Spain—I learned early on what it means to bridge worlds. I saw how language, compassion, and trust can shape someone’s sense of belonging and safety, especially in moments of vulnerability. As a child, I would pretend my pink stuffed elephant, Trompita, was my first patient. I’d wrap her in blankets, whisper comfort into her ears, and scribble "check-up notes" in a tiny notebook. I didn’t know the word for it then, but I was practicing care. Real care—the kind nurses provide every day. As I got older, that instinct only deepened. Volunteering at Valverde Elementary and through Project C.U.R.E. showed me how essential culturally responsive care is, especially in underserved communities. Whether it was helping Spanish-speaking families fill out medical forms or calming an anxious child who didn’t understand what the doctor was saying, I realized that empathy and presence can be as healing as any medication. Those moments made me want to be on the frontlines of care, advocating for patients who too often go unheard. One of the turning points for me was watching my grandfather battle cancer. The doctors came and went, but it was the nurses who stayed. They were the ones who explained things to my family, who adjusted his pillows and treated him with dignity when he was at his most fragile. Their patience and compassion shaped my understanding of what health care truly means—and how critical the role of a nurse is in delivering it. My interest in biology, chemistry, and the human body led me to pursue the IB Diploma with a focus on science. But my heart has always been with people. In a way, I think of nurses as the mitochondria of the healthcare system—quietly working behind the scenes, powering every interaction, and keeping everything running with resilience and energy. They might not always be seen first, but they are the ones holding everything together. At times, navigating my career path has felt like being in the lyrics of No Me Conoce—trying to assert who I really am while feeling misunderstood by systems that weren’t designed with me in mind. But my journey as a bilingual student, volunteer, and future first-generation college student has taught me to stand in those spaces with strength, to lead with empathy, and to keep pushing forward. Nursing is not just a profession for me—it’s a calling. In the future, I hope to become a nurse practitioner and work in community health, providing accessible, culturally competent care to families like mine. I want to be the person who listens, who explains, who stays. The one who makes sure that no patient feels invisible. I learned about this scholarship through my high school counseling office, where I’ve been actively seeking opportunities to fund my education and give back through a future in health care.

I didn’t set out to fall in love with technology. In fact, I didn’t see myself in it at all. For most of my life, tech felt like something for other people—people who built robots in their garages or coded entire apps before they could drive. But one moment changed that. During my sophomore year, I volunteered to help a Spanish-speaking family enroll their child in school. The mother handed me a crumpled letter from the district, clearly overwhelmed. The portal wasn’t loading on her phone, and the forms were all in English. What should’ve been a straightforward process felt like an impossible maze. I walked her through it, translating and clicking and troubleshooting the system. And when we finally hit “submit,” she looked at me and said, “No lo habría logrado sin ti.” I wouldn’t have made it without you. That moment didn’t involve a flashy algorithm or a high-stakes hackathon. But it was the first time I truly understood the role technology plays in shaping access—how a confusing system or poorly designed form can push people out, and how human connection can bridge that gap. I realized I didn’t need to be the most advanced coder to make a difference with tech. I just needed to care. Since then, I’ve become more intentional about learning how tech can be a tool for equity. As vice president of my school’s Technology Student Association, I’ve worked with peers on projects that blend creativity, engineering, and design. But the most meaningful experiences haven’t been about competition—they’ve been about impact. I’ve helped families at Valverde Elementary navigate online learning platforms. I’ve supported teachers with translating digital curriculum. These aren’t huge tech breakthroughs, but they’re small ways I’ve tried to use technology to include, not exclude. Of course, it hasn’t always been easy. There have been moments when I’ve doubted myself—when I’ve felt like the only girl in a tech space, or when I’ve hit a wall with a project I couldn’t figure out. And sometimes, being bicultural has meant translating not just languages, but entire ways of thinking between my family’s world and the tech-dominated systems around me. But each challenge has made me more committed to finding my place in this field—not just for myself, but for others who might feel just as out of place as I once did. Looking ahead, I want to study biochemistry and explore how emerging technologies like AI and wearable health monitors can transform healthcare, especially for underserved communities. I’m excited by the possibilities—not just the innovation, but the human stories behind it. What excites me most isn’t building the next big thing; it’s making sure the next big thing actually serves the people who need it most. Technology is powerful, but it’s not magic. It’s built by people—people like me, who once thought they didn’t belong, and then realized that maybe, they do. My goal is to keep showing up, keep learning, and keep making tech a little more human.

I’ve always seen myself as a mitochondria—the powerhouse not just of a cell, but of my own life. I generate energy, sustain momentum, and work behind the scenes to help others thrive. It’s a nerdy metaphor, I know, but one that captures my commitment to service, equity, and the future I envision for myself: becoming a doctor who brings power, healing, and compassion to underserved communities. Growing up bicultural—between the grounded warmth of my Spanish mother and the fast-paced world of American academics—shaped me into someone who sees value in every voice, especially the quiet ones. In my community, I’ve learned that language, access, and trust are often the first barriers to care and opportunity. That's why I’ve spent over 100 hours volunteering with CO Feeds Kids, Project C.U.R.E., and Valverde Elementary, offering translation, mentorship, and hands-on support to families who remind me of my own. My experience with these families has taught me that change begins with presence—just showing up, listening, and saying, “I’m here for you.” I’m a valedictorian, IB Diploma candidate, and senior class vice president. I’m also a waitress, a babysitter, a youth soccer coach, and someone who hand-delivered donated school supplies to rural Honduras through a personal project called Blue Stars Supplies. These aren’t just resume lines—they’re evidence of how I show up for others, every single day. As a volunteer with TOPSoccer, I’ve worked with athletes with disabilities; through mock trial and TSA, I’ve developed leadership skills that balance empathy with strategy. I lead from the heart, and I lead with purpose. And I’ve learned to carry the weight of being misunderstood. There’s a line in the song “No Me Conoce” that always sticks with me—“me dice que no me conoce.” Sometimes, people look at your name, your skin, your story, and assume they know you. But they don’t know how hard my family has worked to navigate a system that wasn’t built for us. They don’t know how confusing FAFSA, CSS, and housing forms are for a mom who grew up in a different country, or how overwhelming it is to try and afford college in a system that hides costs behind acronyms. I’m proud to say I’ll be attending Oxford College of Emory University to study biochemistry on a pre-med track. I plan to use my degree to become a bilingual, culturally competent doctor who focuses on cardiology and equitable healthcare. I want to work in underserved areas, where care is often impersonal, inaccessible, or absent altogether. I want to make the invisible visible and remind every patient—no matter where they come from—that they are known, and they are worthy of care. The road to medicine isn’t just about science. It’s about humanity. I believe my story, my service, and my voice—rooted in both mitochondria and No Me Conoce—can help build a future that is more inclusive, more compassionate, and more just. That’s the impact I plan to make, one person, one heartbeat at a time.

My name is Sofia Millner Calvo, and I’m a proud first-generation American, daughter of a Spanish mother, and valedictorian of my high school class. I’m also an IB Diploma candidate, varsity soccer captain, Mock Trial co-president, and passionate volunteer. But beyond the titles and GPA, I am someone who believes in service, in leadership through empathy, and in the transformative power of education. I often joke that I’m like the mitochondria—the powerhouse of the cell—because I bring energy, resilience, and function to every space I enter. Whether I’m tutoring elementary students in mathletes, translating paperwork for Spanish-speaking families at Valverde Elementary, or leading my soccer team through a tough game, I always show up with purpose and pride. I find ways to be useful, to empower others, and to represent those who may not always have a voice. One of my proudest initiatives was launching Blue Stars Supplies, a passion project that collected and sent educational materials to students in rural Honduras. That wasn’t just about school supplies—it was about bridging opportunity gaps. As someone who has seen inequity firsthand, I understand the importance of access. It’s what drives my goal to become a doctor, not just for the title, but to serve underserved communities with dignity and compassion. My dream is to bring culturally competent, bilingual care to the people who need it most. I’ve grown up straddling cultures—American ambition and Spanish heart. Songs like “No Me Conoce” resonate with me because they reflect the complexities of identity. I know what it’s like to be underestimated, or to feel invisible in systems not built for you. But I also know how to channel that into strength. I’ve spent over 100 hours volunteering with CO Feeds Kids, Project C.U.R.E., and TOPSoccer, and I’ve worked as a waitress, babysitter, and youth soccer coach—all while maintaining a 4.816 GPA and earning the Seal of Biliteracy in both Spanish and French. I do this not just for college applications, but because I believe in community. In college, I’ll continue this legacy at Oxford College of Emory University, where I plan to study biochemistry on the pre-med track. I’m excited to join service organizations and research initiatives focused on health equity. I know the road ahead won’t be easy, but I’m ready. Scholarships like this one don’t just help financially—they validate students like me who’ve worked relentlessly to make our dreams possible. I want to be the doctor who listens fully, the leader who stays grounded, and the person who gives back tenfold. One day, I hope a little girl with big dreams sees someone like me in a white coat and thinks, “That could be me too.” Thank you for considering me for this opportunity—I promise to carry it forward.

Being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member is about finding where you belong and making sure your actions fuel the bigger picture, much like how the song No Me Conoce blasts through the speakers, its rhythm and energy spreading through the streets. I feel like that song—it’s vibrant, it’s purposeful, and it makes an impact. Being part of a community isn’t just about existing in the background; it’s about adding to the beat, amplifying the sound. For me, it’s about being the mitochondria in the community—always working in the background, providing energy, and ensuring the systems function well, even when no one’s looking. Purposefulness is about knowing why you’re doing what you’re doing. It’s like when I hear the familiar rhythm of No Me Conoce—at first, I didn’t understand its significance, but over time, I realized it was part of a deeper connection to my heritage. It wasn’t just music; it was a link to my roots, my culture, and my identity. I wasn’t connected to my heritage before, but after spending time in Spain and learning about the culture through music, I felt a pull toward something greater. I’ve learned to carry that sense of purpose into everything I do—whether it’s in my project Blue Star Supplies, which sends educational supplies to children in Honduras, or in my pursuit of becoming a doctor. I aim to always have a clear “why” in my actions, just like how that song keeps playing, reminding me of who I am and where I come from. To be responsible is like managing the energy of the mitochondria—ensuring that every action you take is intentional and that you hold yourself accountable. In my role as president of Mock Trial, I’m responsible not just for my own performance, but for the success and development of my team. Just as the mitochondria power a cell’s function, I aim to fuel my team’s growth by supporting them, giving them the tools they need, and making sure they’re always moving forward. Responsibility, for me, isn’t just about checking off tasks—it’s about being dependable, showing up for others, and being someone who holds themselves accountable in everything they do. Whether it’s being a leader in school activities or preparing for medical school, I know that being responsible means my actions impact the people around me, and I want to be someone others can always rely on. Productivity is the result of the energy we put in—the mitochondria don’t just exist; they make sure everything else works smoothly. I carry that mentality into my life. In everything I do, from competing in TSA to tutoring in Mathletes and National Honor Society, I focus on getting results and making an impact. Like how the energy from the mitochondria powers the cell’s functions, my productivity drives my success. Being purposeful, responsible, and productive isn’t just about what I do—it's about how I do it. Like the beat of No Me Conoce reverberating through the streets, I want my actions to be felt in the communities I’m part of. Whether it’s through my leadership roles, my community service, or my future career in medicine, I plan to be the mitochondria—the powerhouse that makes things happen, even when no one sees the work behind the scenes. My roots, my heritage, and the lessons I’ve learned from music, leadership, and hard work all contribute to my drive to be a meaningful part of the world around me. Like No Me Conoce, I want to keep playing my part, ensuring that every beat resonates with purpose and action.

The Soundtrack of My Identity The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” blares through the speakers, reggaeton rhythms vibrating through the car as the sun streaks across my windshield. My head bobs to the music, but my mind travels 5,000 miles away—to the narrow, sun-drenched streets of Biescas, Spain. I’m 16, sitting on a picnic bench with my childhood friends, the smell of churros lingering in the air and our speaker buzzing with our favorite Spanish songs. Everyone knows every lyric—except me. Three years ago, I wouldn’t have even listened to the music. Spanish songs felt out of place in my American life. When my mom played the cultural music she grew up with—bachata, flamenco, or classic ballads—I begged her to change it. Surrounded by English every day, I didn’t understand how Spanish music fit in. I didn’t feel connected. I didn’t feel like it was mine. Then something shifted. During that summer back in Biescas, I stopped resisting and started listening. My friends taught me their favorite songs, told me the stories behind them, and welcomed me into a part of our culture I had pushed away. What started as two songs at the end of my playlist slowly became an entire soundtrack to my identity. Music became my bridge—not just to my heritage, but to a deeper understanding of who I am. This experience taught me that identity isn’t about fitting into a single category. I used to feel like I didn’t fully belong anywhere—not entirely American, not entirely Hispanic. But through music, I found belonging in both. I created space for my own version of what it means to be Latina—one that includes my American upbringing, my bilingualism, and my deep connection to my Spanish roots. I’m not just in between cultures; I’m a blend of them. Understanding myself in this way also changed how I see my community. I’ve realized that culture isn't static—it’s something we engage with, learn from, and shape over time. That’s why I started Blue Star Supplies, my project to send educational materials to elementary schools in Honduras. It’s why I take pride in being Senior Class Vice President, a leader who represents the Hispanic demographic at my school. It’s why I lead, organize, compete, and mentor—not just to succeed, but to serve. Most importantly, this journey has helped me define my purpose. As someone who used to doubt her place, I now know I want to build spaces where others feel seen, heard, and understood—just like I did. Whether it’s through medicine, community service, or leadership, I want to be someone who empowers others to embrace their identities with pride. What began with music has become much more than a playlist. It’s the story of how I came to understand myself—and how I’m determined to make my own impact on the world, one powerful note at a time.

For thirteen years, I’ve laced up my cleats, pulled my hair back tight, and stepped onto the soccer field with one goal: to give everything I’ve got. Soccer has been my constant—a place where I could compete, lead, and push myself, even when life off the field was anything but simple. At the same time, I’ve taken on challenging academics, earned the title of valedictorian, and committed myself to leadership roles in clubs like Mock Trial and Student Council. Balancing it all—sport, school, and life—has shaped me into the young woman I am today: one who’s not afraid to speak up, show up, and thrive in a world that still too often underestimates strong girls. Sports have taught me discipline in a way nothing else could. There were days when I’d wake up at 5 a.m. to finish schoolwork before a long day of classes, leadership meetings, and practice. Weekends weren’t for sleeping in—they were for tournaments, team huddles, and early-morning buses. Yet through this nonstop schedule, I learned how to manage time, how to lead others, and most importantly, how to lead myself. On the field, I learned how to handle pressure, lose with grace, and come back stronger—skills that now serve me in every room I walk into. As a girl in sports, I’ve also felt what it means to take up space in a male-dominated culture. Whether it's the lack of equal resources, dismissive coaches, or the subtle ways we’re underestimated, female athletes are often treated as second-tier. But those moments didn’t break me—they fueled me. I learned to be louder when I wasn’t being heard. I learned to celebrate my teammates fiercely. I learned to fight for the respect we deserve—not just on the field, but in classrooms, clubs, and eventually, in professional spaces. I’ve grown into the kind of woman who knows her value, sets her standards high, and isn’t afraid to demand more—for herself and for others. Being a student-athlete isn’t just about juggling a full schedule; it’s about building endurance for life. It’s taught me how to keep going when I’m tired, how to show up even when I’m doubting myself, and how to be part of something bigger than just me. I’ve learned to lead with compassion, confidence, and grit—qualities that will stay with me far beyond high school. Next year, I’ll be attending Oxford College of Emory University to pursue Pre-Med, and I carry with me every lesson I’ve learned as a female athlete. I walk into this next chapter stronger, sharper, and ready to keep breaking down barriers. Because once you’ve learned how to hold your ground on the field, you know how to hold your ground anywhere.

The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” thunders through the car speakers, my head bobbing to the reggaeton rhythm as my Spanish playlist takes over the afternoon. It’s more than just music—it’s a feeling. It takes me back to Biescas, my family’s pueblo in Spain, where we spend our summers swimming in ice-cold rivers, painting on picnic tables, and playing our favorite songs while wandering through narrow, golden-lit streets. That music now fills the silence I didn’t even realize existed in my identity. Three years ago, I didn’t connect to Spanish music. I resisted it, not understanding how it fit into my everyday life in America. But over time, the music—and my culture—called me back. One summer changed everything. I listened. I learned. I felt myself belonging to a rhythm that had always been a part of me. From churros at sunrise to laughter in the plaza, my heritage came alive through those melodies. Today, that music—and everything it represents—means belonging. It’s walking with my abuela to church. Sneaking jamón slices when no one’s watching. Dancing with friends under stars in Spain. It’s the smell of summer and the language of my people. It’s my identity—blended, bilingual, and uniquely mine. I don’t just belong to one place or community. I’ve created my own space between two worlds, and I carry that dual identity with pride. I see myself like the mitochondria—the powerhouse of the cell. In my communities, I am the one who brings energy, passion, and purpose. Whether I’m leading my Mock Trial team to state as a top attorney, organizing events as Senior Class VP, or competing in STEM challenges through TSA, I channel that same energy and drive. My bilingualism and cultural lens help me advocate for others, inspire change, and represent those whose voices might go unheard. Working full-time as a waitress in Spain taught me grit. Creating Blue Star Supplies, my initiative to send school materials to kids in Honduras, taught me purpose. And playing varsity soccer for 13 years taught me resilience. Every experience has fueled my determination and brought me one step closer to my dream: becoming a doctor. Science lit the spark, but service is what keeps it burning. I’ve always been drawn to biology and chemistry, but it was through academic programs like IB and Early High School that I discovered how much I love challenging myself and helping others. As the top student in my class of 295, I’ve proven I can thrive academically—but college isn’t just about grades to me. It’s about deepening my knowledge, preparing for medical school, and one day, caring for patients with compassion and skill. College is the bridge between the dreamer who listened to music to feel connected, and the doctor I will become—someone grounded in both science and heart. I am ready to bring my culture, my passion, and my powerhouse energy into a university where I can keep growing, learning, and making a difference.

Making a Positive Impact on My Community No, I was not in the foster care system, but my life has been shaped by personal experiences and challenges that have influenced my desire to make a positive impact on my community. Throughout my life, I have always been motivated by the belief that with hard work, determination, and compassion, we can transform not only our own lives but also the lives of those around us. Growing up in a multicultural environment, I often felt torn between two worlds. As a Hispanic student in an American school, I was constantly navigating the complexities of two distinct cultures, trying to blend my heritage with the mainstream American experience. However, this cultural duality became a source of strength for me. It allowed me to develop a unique perspective and a deep sense of empathy, which I now see as essential in understanding and addressing the diverse needs of my community. One of the most defining aspects of my journey has been the influence of my mother, who has been my greatest role model. After my abuelo passed away, my mom, who had struggled with weight and health issues, made a bold decision to turn her life around. She took up running, and over time, she completed two marathons. Her transformation not only inspired me to prioritize my own health but also taught me the importance of perseverance and resilience. These values are at the heart of everything I do today. As I pursue my degree in pre-med, I hope to use my education to make a meaningful impact in my community. I have always been fascinated by science, particularly biology and chemistry, and I aspire to become a doctor. However, my motivation is not driven by the pursuit of a paycheck, but by a desire to serve others and provide compassionate care to those who need it the most. I want to be a resource for my community, especially for underprivileged individuals who may not have access to adequate healthcare. In addition to my academic goals, I am also committed to continuing my involvement in extracurricular activities such as volunteer work, tutoring, and community service. Through these experiences, I have learned how to collaborate, communicate effectively, and lead with empathy. These skills will be vital as I work to improve the health and well-being of individuals in my community. Ultimately, I plan to use my degree to not only become a doctor but also to advocate for health equity, working to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background or circumstances, have access to the resources and care they need to lead healthy, fulfilling lives. I believe that education is the key to breaking cycles of poverty and poor health, and by empowering others with the knowledge and tools they need, we can create a brighter future for everyone. Through my journey, I have learned the value of community, resilience, and service. I am excited to continue on this path, knowing that with the right education and dedication, I can contribute to the positive change my community needs.

The familiar beat of No Me Conoce booms through the car speakers, my hair flying in the wind as the reggaeton rhythm pulses through the streets. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have known this song. I wouldn’t have been able to sing along, wouldn’t have felt the lyrics in my chest the way I do now. Back then, I had buried the part of myself that tied me to my roots. But that all began to change the day I met Rafa. Rafa was a newcomer to my school, having just arrived from Honduras. He was quiet at first, speaking little English and clinging to the comfort of Spanish. Naturally, we became close. We shared jokes in Spanish, helped each other with schoolwork, and talked about home—his in Honduras, mine in Spain. One day, Rafa told me something that stayed with me. His younger siblings back home didn’t have access to basic school supplies. He said they sometimes had to share one pencil between three kids. That image haunted me. I couldn’t stop thinking about Rafa’s siblings—kids like me, like my friends, like the students I mentored in Mathletes—struggling not because they lacked ability, but because they lacked opportunity. That conversation sparked something in me. I wanted to do more than just feel bad. I wanted to do something. That’s how Blue Star Supplies was born. I launched Blue Star Supplies to collect and send educational materials to the Mercedes Calderón School in Honduras, where Rafa’s siblings attend. I organized school-wide donation drives, partnered with local businesses, and worked with international shipping services to get the supplies directly into students’ hands. I hand-wrote notes in Spanish for each package. I wanted the students to know they were seen, that someone thousands of miles away believed in them. Through this project, I didn't just help students in Honduras—I helped Rafa, too. He beamed when I showed him the boxes ready to go. He said it made him feel proud. That meant everything to me. I had taken something intangible—his concern, his hope—and turned it into real action. And in doing so, I found a deeper understanding of what it means to serve a community. I carry that same drive into every aspect of my life—whether I’m tutoring through National Honor Society, mentoring students in Mathletes, or leading our school as Senior Class Vice President. I want to be someone others can count on, especially those whose voices aren’t always heard. That’s why I plan to become a doctor—not just to treat symptoms, but to uplift entire communities, one patient, one student, one sibling at a time. Blue Star Supplies reminded me that service starts with listening. With caring. With doing something, even when it feels small. And that when we act with purpose, even a pencil can become a symbol of hope.

I’ve always believed in the power of community, but also in the fact that there’s no such thing as a free lunch—especially when you're the one doing the volunteering. I’ve spent a lot of time giving back to my community in Littleton, and trust me, it’s been a wild ride! Between math tutoring, teaching kids about kindness, and navigating my own experiences with online and in-person bullying, I’ve learned a lot, laughed a lot, and—most importantly—grown a lot. Now, as I look forward to entering college, I want to continue my journey of helping others, while also finding a way to keep my stress levels manageable. (And ... I could really use this scholarship to make that happen!) I’ve been a math mentor for younger gifted elementary kids, and it’s one of the most fun and challenging things I’ve ever done. There’s a certain thrill that comes with watching their faces light up when they finally understand something, and I’ve learned how to communicate complex math concepts in the simplest way possible. I’ve also learned how to balance my love of math with my love of terrible puns, which, by the way, I’m sure helps with building their confidence. When it comes to keeping kids safe, whether it’s from bullying or the digital world, I’m passionate about being a voice for the voiceless. I’m no stranger to feeling like an outsider—there was a time when I didn’t connect with my Hispanic roots and thought listening to reggaeton was “uncool” (I know, I know—what was I thinking?). But I realized that understanding and embracing my culture helped me become a better person, one who can empathize with others who feel isolated or left out. That’s why I’ve worked on campaigns to educate my peers about the importance of kindness—both in person and online. If we can all just take a second to think before we send that snarky comment or post that photo of someone looking a little less-than-perfect, we can start to make the internet a safer, more supportive place. Now, I’ll admit, this scholarship is kind of a big deal to me. Life threw some curveballs at my family this year, and we ended up dealing with a major pipe break at home. To cover the emergency expenses, my parents had to dip into their retirement savings, which, as you can imagine, didn’t leave us in the best financial position. As a result, I’m facing a hefty financial burden when it comes to college. But hey, I’ve always been resourceful! I’m hoping this scholarship will be a lifeline that will allow me to focus on my studies without drowning in student loans. Despite the challenges, I’ve always been committed to self-improvement, and I’m excited to continue my journey of personal and academic growth. College is the perfect opportunity for me to take what I’ve learned from my community and apply it on a larger scale. I’m hoping to study a field where I can keep helping people and continue being the “mitochondria” of my community, just like I’ve always been. Whether I’m advocating for kindness or solving math problems with terrible puns, I’ll keep striving to make a difference. My goal is to use my experiences to continue growing, both as a student and as a person. This scholarship will not only help alleviate my financial pressure but will also allow me to stay focused on making a positive impact in my community and beyond. Thank you for considering my application. And yes, I’ll keep my reggaeton playlist to a minimum, but no promises on the bad math puns!

Why I Am Worth the Dreams I Aspire to Achieve There’s a moment I always come back to when I think about where I come from: windows down, the beat of “No Me Conoce” booming through the speakers, the air rushing across my face, and my heart beaming with something I hadn’t felt before—belonging. It was the summer after my first year of high school in Biescas, Spain, where my roots run deep. That summer, I began building a bridge between the two worlds I live in—American and Hispanic—and the music became my language, my culture, and a part of me I didn’t know I was missing. It reminded me that even if I didn’t fully belong to one place or another, I was still whole. I was my own blend. That same music, that same beam of identity, still pushes me forward. Like the music, I’ve learned that strength and purpose come from deep within—from the place that powers everything. I’ve always described myself as the mitochondria in the communities I belong to. I don’t wait to be told what to do; I show up, I lead, I push forward. I generate energy, not just for myself, but for everyone around me. That’s what motivates me to become a doctor: the belief that I can be a steady force for others, powering hope, healing, and equity in the communities I serve. I’m worth the dreams I carry because I’ve built them not just from passion, but from persistence. I am the first in my class, an IB Diploma candidate, with a 4.791 GPA and a full course load of AP and honors classes. But behind those numbers is a girl who wakes up at 5AM for soccer practice, who leads Mock Trial as co-president, who organizes volunteer efforts for Blue Star Supplies, and who works full-time summers as a waitress in Gavin, Spain—earning every paycheck, every opportunity. I’ve learned how to work. Really work. And still beam through it all. What drives me isn’t just science (though I do love mitochondria and how they literally power life); it’s the chance to combine my love for biology and chemistry with a deep desire to serve. Volunteering at Valverde Elementary, a bilingual school in southwest Denver, made that clear. I connected with students not just through academics, but through shared culture, shared language. I saw how health and education access can define a person’s life—and how easily both can be taken for granted. I want to be a doctor who sees beyond the stethoscope, who listens first, and who advocates always. Despite financial challenges, I’ve stayed grounded and focused. My family can contribute a small amount to my college tuition, and I’ve been saving and planning with the understanding that most of my journey—undergrad, med school, and beyond—will be financed through work and loans. I don’t shy away from that. It’s what makes this dream mean more. This scholarship would lessen the load, give me more room to focus on my academics and service, and bring me one step closer to being the doctor I know I can be. I am worth my dreams not because they’re easy—but because I’ve done the hard things. I’ve put in the hours. I’ve shown up tired but still gave my best. I’ve lifted others while finding my voice. I am the mitochondria—the powerhouse behind the scenes, keeping everything running with grit, energy, and heart. I beam like my music, loud and full of life, rooted in something real. My dream isn’t just a career. It’s who I am, and I’m ready to live it.

Growing up, I always knew the mitochondria as the powerhouse of the cell—the source of energy, resilience, and momentum. As I’ve matured, I’ve come to see myself in that metaphor. In every community I belong to, I strive to be the mitochondria: providing support, pushing forward, and making things better for those around me. And, like a cell depends on its powerhouse, I depend on the stories I’ve read to energize and inspire me. One of the most formative reading experiences of my life came from the Harry Potter series. I first read it simply for enjoyment, but as I got older, I began to appreciate the deeper lessons embedded in the magic. Hermione Granger taught me that knowledge is power—but it’s also a responsibility. Her determination to master complex spells and to fight for justice reminded me of my own hunger to understand biology and chemistry, and to use that knowledge to help others. Harry taught me about courage: not just the kind that faces down evil wizards, but the quiet kind that stands up for the vulnerable and chooses empathy, even when it’s difficult. And perhaps most importantly, the world of Hogwarts showed me that family and community can be found in the most unexpected places—and that leadership isn’t about control, but care. Outside the world of fiction, books like The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and The Emperor of All Maladies expanded my understanding of science and humanity. They revealed the real-world implications of inequity in medicine and the ethical complexities of healthcare. These stories taught me that becoming a doctor is not only about mastering the intricacies of the human body—it’s about honoring the people behind each case, each cell, each heartbeat. They helped me shape my goal: to become a culturally responsive physician serving underserved communities. Reading has also played a vital role in reconnecting me with my Hispanic roots. For years, I resisted Spanish music and books—ashamed that I didn’t quite feel like I belonged to either of the cultures I straddled. But over time, I began to embrace the power of bilingual storytelling. Reading Spanish-language books, listening to reggaetón, and spending summers in my mother’s hometown in Spain helped me reclaim my identity. Now, when I read with young students as part of Mathletes or volunteer at Valverde Elementary, I see how books build bridges. Stories are a way to affirm identity, to make every child feel seen, and to remind them—and myself—that they belong. Books have shaped my goals by showing me the kind of person I want to be: someone who lifts others, who uses her knowledge to make change, and who never stops learning. Whether I’m leading Mock Trial as president, tutoring younger students, organizing supplies for schools in Honduras, or working full-time as a waitress in Spain, I carry the lessons of the stories I’ve read with me. Like the mitochondria, I work tirelessly to power the people and places I love. And like Hermione with her books, I know that my future depends on what I choose to learn—and how I choose to use it.

If selected, I would use the scholarship funds to fuel my journey at Cornell University, much like mitochondria power a cell. Just as mitochondria transform energy to drive a cell's functions, this scholarship would energize my academic and volunteer efforts, allowing me to focus on my studies and future career without being weighed down by financial stress. As a pre-med student aspiring to become a cardiologist, I plan to volunteer at hospitals, especially in underserved communities, to learn directly from those I aim to help. By reducing the financial burden of tuition and living expenses, I can devote more time to understanding the heart's complexities, volunteering, and conducting research that makes a difference. This scholarship is the energy boost I need to keep moving toward my dream: improving healthcare in underserved communities and making an impact, one heartbeat at a time.

Music Has Affected My Life During High School The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” booms through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm spilling out of the windows, the wind tousling my hair as I bob my head to the base. As the playlist flows through a long list of Latin tunes, I am transported back to my hometown. I can almost feel the summer breeze of Biescas, Spain, the laughter of my friends around a picnic table, and the scent of the crisp afternoon air. The Latin voices fill the silence, binding me to my heritage in a way I never fully understood until that moment. Three years ago, the names of my favorite artists now wouldn’t have lingered in my mind for more than a second after being mentioned. I had no connection to the music rich in Hispanic heritage that now tethers me deeply to my roots. My mother, who grew up listening to everything from bachata to her favorite Spanish artists, would often play these songs, and I would plead with her to change the music. I didn’t understand how she enjoyed her music when we were surrounded by English every day. It didn’t fit into my world. That all changed one summer when I returned to Biescas, my hometown in Spain, after my first year of high school. Surrounded by old friends and the familiar sights of my village, I was reunited with my roots. My friends and I spent the summer swimming in icy rivers, painting on picnic tables, and, most importantly, sharing music. We carried a speaker everywhere, whether we were getting churros before a morning hike or spending late nights together on dimly lit streets. The music echoed everywhere. Everyone knew the lyrics except for me. Despite being a part of this community, I didn’t feel connected to their cultural bond through music, a bond I could never fully grasp before. As summer ended and I returned to school, something had changed. Two Spanish songs found their way to the end of my playlist. They were songs I had learned from my friends that summer, even though I was initially skeptical. Two songs turned into ten, ten into fifty, and before I knew it, I had an entire playlist dedicated to Spanish music. The music felt like home, pulling me closer to my Hispanic roots, even though I was 5,000 miles away. Music now represents more than a simple preference. When I listen to songs, I’m reminded of my abuela, her arm tightly holding mine as we navigate the rocky streets of Biescas. I recall sneaking a slice of jamón when no one was looking and staying out with my friends until the early hours of the morning. Music takes me back to my happiest moments—my childhood, my family, and my heritage. It’s a bridge between two worlds: one that is American, where I live, and one that is deeply Hispanic, where my family comes from. In high school, I’ve learned that music is an outlet for my bilingualism and an expression of my identity. It reflects who I am—a blend of the culture my mother instilled in me, the years I spent reconnecting to my roots, and my experience as a Hispanic living in America. It is through music that I’ve discovered a deeper understanding of myself, a connection that has helped me navigate the complexities of belonging to two communities, yet not fully fitting into either. Music has given me a way to express that unique blend of cultures, and in doing so, it has shaped my journey of self-discovery.

Improving relationships between law enforcement agencies and the African American population requires a multifaceted approach that acknowledges historical challenges, builds trust, and fosters collaboration. As someone who has grown up in a multicultural environment and witnessed systemic issues firsthand, I’ve seen how relationships between groups—whether based on race, culture, or class—are shaped by shared experiences. My experiences, along with my family’s insights, have deepened my understanding of how to bridge divides and create positive change. My mother, a teacher in the Denver Public School system, has shown me the systemic issues African American students face. African American students are disproportionately suspended compared to their peers, highlighting broader societal issues such as a disconnect between these communities and the institutions meant to serve them. These issues also extend to law enforcement, where misunderstandings and biases contribute to strained relationships. Both in schools and on the streets, African Americans have faced systemic injustice that has created distrust and division. A crucial first step in improving relationships is ensuring law enforcement officers are trained to understand the cultural and historical contexts influencing African American communities. As someone who has navigated multiple cultures—being both American and Hispanic—I understand the importance of appreciating how culture shapes identity. Law enforcement agencies should implement training programs educating officers about racial dynamics and the historical struggles that have contributed to the divide. This understanding can help minimize biases and improve interactions with African American community members. Community engagement is another key element. My mother and I have seen how involvement and positive interactions in schools can change the trajectory of a child’s experience. As president of my school’s Mock Trial team and through my volunteer work with the Technology Student Association, I’ve seen the impact of connection. Law enforcement can adopt similar community-based initiatives, spending time in African American neighborhoods as allies, not just enforcers. Participating in events, hosting town halls, and engaging in dialogue can foster trust and improve relationships. Accountability and transparency are also essential. The African American community often feels unfairly targeted, so law enforcement must prioritize these principles. Policies that hold officers accountable, along with the use of body cameras and releasing footage in cases of police violence, can demonstrate a commitment to fairness. In education, steps are being made to address systemic challenges faced by African American students, but definitely more work is needed. As my mom often says, real change takes time and flexibility. Shifting mindsets in both education and law enforcement is critical. These sectors must confront deeply ingrained biases and historical prejudice. Educating both law enforcement officers and school staff about these issues is essential for lasting change. Lastly, increasing African American representation in law enforcement agencies is key to improving relationships. When officers reflect the communities they serve, trust naturally improves. Encouraging African Americans to pursue careers in law enforcement can lead to more balanced, empathetic policing. I truly believe improving relationships between law enforcement and the African American community requires dedication, education, and accountability. It’s about reshaping mindsets in schools, communities, and law enforcement agencies. Through education, engagement, and transparency, we can heal the divide and build relationships that contribute to a more just and unified society.

Giving Back Through TOPSoccer The familiar beat of "No Me Conoce" pulses through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm filling the air as my head bobs to the bass. I’m transported back to a summer in Biescas, Spain, where the sun beams down, green leaves flutter through the breeze, and my best friends laugh around a picnic table. The warmth of my culture surrounds me, and I’m reminded of the importance of the connections we make through shared experiences—experiences that transcend barriers and give meaning to our lives. This connection to others has always been something that has shaped my outlook on life. From a young age, I was drawn to soccer, and over time, it became much more than just a game. It became a way for me to connect with others, especially through my involvement in the TOPSoccer program Colorado. The Outreach Program for Soccer brings together children with cognitive, developmental, and physical disabilities to experience the joys of soccer. As a volunteer coach, I worked with young athletes, guiding them as they learned new skills, formed friendships, and, most importantly, had fun. It was through TOPSoccer that I saw firsthand the powerful effect sports can have on people’s lives, especially those who may not have had access to these opportunities otherwise. I vividly remember working with a young boy named Lionel. As he dribbled the soccer ball towards me with a huge smile, I knew this moment would stay with me forever. For Lionel, playing soccer wasn’t just about scoring goals; it was about the joy of being part of something bigger, of feeling accepted and capable. I then realized how much impact a simple community event could have. It wasn't just about playing a sport—it was about offering children the chance to thrive in an environment where they could feel supported, challenged, and celebrated for who they are. TOPSoccer has made me think more deeply about my role in creating positive change in my community. It’s not enough to just participate; I want to give back in a way that empowers those who are underserved. I’ve seen how a few hours spent coaching or organizing a community event can make a world of difference to someone, especially a child. I’m passionate about bridging gaps in accessibility, whether through sports, healthcare, or education, and creating opportunities where everyone can thrive. As I continue my journey, I want to see more events like TOPSoccer in my community, ones that create spaces for people from all walks of life to come together and share experiences. I hope to see greater inclusivity, where children of all abilities can participate in activities and where everyone has the resources to succeed. In a world where people are often divided by differences, events like these have the power to bring us closer. This passion for community and service has fueled my desire to pursue a career in medicine. I see healthcare as a way to make lasting, positive changes in people’s lives, much like soccer does for those who participate in programs like TOPSoccer. I want to be part of a healthcare system that focuses on accessibility, where everyone, no matter their background or ability, has the opportunity to receive the care they need. As I look to the future, I’m committed to using my skills and experiences to give back, just as I’ve learned to do through programs like TOPSoccer. I hope to continue making a positive difference—whether it’s on the soccer field or in the world of healthcare.

The Power Within The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” pulses through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm filling the air as my head bobs to the bass. I’m transported back to a summer in Biescas, Spain, where the sun beams down, green leaves flutter through the breeze, and my best friends laugh around a picnic table. The warmth of my culture surrounds me, as the music connects me to moments of my past—times I once dismissed as simple, but now cherish deeply. As the music fills the air, I think of my abuela walking beside me to church, her arm tightly holding mine as we navigate the rocky streets of Biescas. I remember sneaking slices of jamón serrano from the kitchen and late nights spent laughing with friends. Despite being 5,000 miles away, these moments, wrapped in music, always made me feel connected to my roots. Yet, they also remind me of the identity struggle I faced between two cultures. Growing up in America with Hispanic roots, I often felt disconnected. It wasn’t until that summer in Spain that I realized I wasn’t torn between two worlds—I was a fusion of both. I carry the American culture I grew up with and the Hispanic traditions of my family within me. This connection to my roots sparked my passion for serving others, especially those in underserved communities. It was through these experiences that I became deeply interested in pursuing a career in STEM, particularly medicine. Science, especially biology and chemistry, has always intrigued me, but it’s the ability to apply this knowledge in a way that can help people that drives me to pursue medicine. As I reflect on my high school journey, one moment stands out: working on my project Blue Star Supplies, which provides educational materials to children in Honduras. I met Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, and learned about the challenges his younger siblings faced in obtaining even the most basic school supplies. This encounter fueled my desire to use my skills to make a tangible difference. My drive to help those like Rafa grew into a commitment to medicine. I realized that becoming a doctor would allow me to not only help individuals with their immediate needs but also to contribute to building healthier communities. Through my work with Blue Star Supplies and other volunteer activities, I saw how small acts of service can have a lasting impact. This experience solidified my passion for STEM and motivated me to pursue a pre-med track in college. I want to study medicine not just for the sake of knowledge but to create real-world solutions for people who need them most. Looking ahead, I hope to use my STEM education to make a meaningful impact in the healthcare field, particularly for underserved populations. I want to bridge the gap in healthcare access, offering care and support to communities that often face barriers to receiving treatment. Through my passion for medicine, I want to embody the same drive and resilience that keeps me moving forward every day. Like the mitochondria that power cells, I believe it’s our inner drive that fuels us to overcome obstacles and push toward solutions. For me, that drive is dedicated to making a difference in the lives of others. As I pursue my studies in STEM, I’ll continue to be inspired by my roots, my community, and my experiences. They are the foundation of my passion and the power that will propel me toward achieving my goal of becoming a doctor, where I can make a lasting impact in the world.

The Power Within The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” pulses through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm filling the air as my head bobs to the bass. I’m transported back to a summer in Biescas, Spain, where the sun beams down, green leaves flutter through the breeze, and my best friends laugh around a picnic table. The warmth of my culture surrounds me, as the music connects me to moments of my past—times I once dismissed as simple, but now cherish deeply. As the music fills the air, I think of walking my abuela to church, sneaking slices of jamón serrano from the kitchen, and late nights spent laughing with friends. Despite being 5,000 miles away, these moments, wrapped in music, always made me feel connected to my roots. Yet, they also remind me of the identity struggle I faced between two cultures. Growing up in America with Hispanic roots, I often felt disconnected. It wasn’t until that summer in Spain that I realized I wasn’t torn between two worlds—I was a fusion of both. I carry the American culture I grew up with and the Hispanic traditions of my family within me. The scene transitions to my high school years. I’m at the front of a Mock Trial competition, confidently presenting my case as president. Balancing academics, leadership, and sports while maintaining my GPA was challenging. But like the mitochondria in a cell, I drew energy from within, pushing through the pressure and exhaustion. I led my teams to victory, persevered through academic struggles, and learned to manage the demands of multiple roles. The mitochondria analogy resonated with me: just as they fuel cells, my determination powered me through every challenge, driving me to keep going. As I reflect on the experiences that shaped me, my passion for helping others stands out. This passion inspired my project, Blue Star Supplies, which provides educational materials to children in Honduras. The idea sparked after I met Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, and learned how his younger siblings struggled to get basic school supplies. This moment ignited my desire to give back to communities in need. I wanted to ensure that children like Rafa could have the resources to succeed. This project deepened my commitment to serving others and solidified my decision to pursue a career in medicine. Through Blue Star Supplies and other volunteer work, I’ve seen firsthand how small acts of kindness can have a ripple effect, empowering individuals and communities. My goal is to carry this sense of purpose with me into my professional life. I want to become a doctor to make a lasting impact on underserved communities, to provide care and resources to those who need it most. My journey has shown me that overcoming adversity and giving back go hand in hand. The title of my story would be The Power Within. Just as mitochondria work tirelessly to fuel a cell, my inner drive pushes me to pursue medicine and to help those around me. Whether I’m volunteering or focusing on my studies, I’m motivated by the belief that small contributions, fueled by passion and determination, can lead to meaningful change. As I continue my journey, I’m reminded that the power to make a difference lies within all of us, and I’m committed to using that power to help those who need it most.

The Power Within The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” pulses through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm filling the air as my head bobs to the bass. I’m transported back to a summer in Biescas, Spain, where the sun beams down, green leaves flutter through the breeze, and my best friends laugh around a picnic table. The warmth of my culture surrounds me as the music fills the spaces between us. I smile, reflecting on moments I once dismissed as simple but now treasure deeply: walking my abuelita to her church, sneaking a slice of jamón serrano, and late nights with friends. Though I was 5,000 miles from home, I always felt connected to my roots through these moments and the music that ties them together. But the music also reminds me of the challenges I’ve faced: the struggle to fit into two cultures. Growing up in America with Hispanic roots meant navigating an identity puzzle I couldn’t quite solve. Neither culture fully matched, creating a feeling of disconnection. It wasn’t until that summer in Spain that I understood I wasn’t torn between two worlds; I was a fusion of both. The American culture I grew up with and the Hispanic traditions of my family both shaped who I am today. The scene transitions, and I’m now at the front of a Mock Trial competition, confidently presenting my case as president. I reflect on the challenges of balancing academics, leadership, and sports—maintaining my GPA while leading my teams to victory. The pressure was overwhelming, but like the mitochondria that work tirelessly to fuel the cell, I tapped into my inner drive. The mitochondria in me powered me through each challenge, even when exhaustion threatened to overtake me. The scene shifts again. I’m now working on my project, Blue Star Supplies, which sends educational materials to children in Honduras. My inspiration came from Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, and his siblings, who struggled to obtain even the most basic school supplies. I realized I could make a difference and, through this project, my passion for helping underserved communities grew into a desire to become a doctor. This project sparked my commitment to pursue a career in medicine, where I can serve those who need it most. My journey, filled with challenges and triumphs, has strengthened my resolve to give back. I’ve learned that overcoming adversity and helping others go hand in hand. Blue Star Supplies is just one step in my larger goal to help underserved communities, and I am driven by the same power that fuels every mitochondrion. The screen fades to black as the title appears: The Power Within. It’s not just the mitochondria that sustain me—it’s my passion for medicine and the drive to help others that powers my future. The reggaeton song fades out, reminding me that no matter where I go, I will carry my energy, my roots, and my experiences with me.

THE POWER WITHIN... Opening Scene: The familiar beat of “No Me Conoce” booms through the car speakers, its reggaeton rhythm traveling out the window as the air tousles my hair. My head bobs to the base, the Latin voices filling the spaces around me, and as the music pulses, I’m transported back to a summer in my hometown of Biescas, Spain. The sun beaming down, green leaves fluttering through the breeze, my best friends at a picnic table laughing, all of it echoing the warmth of my culture. I watch the world pass by as the song wraps around me, its lyrics a thread that connects me to the moments of my past—times I once dismissed as simple, but now treasure deeply. A memory flashes before me: my abuelita walking beside me to church, a slice of jamon ibérico sneaked from the kitchen when no one’s looking, late nights spent with friends, and the feeling of belonging despite being 5,000 miles away from home. I smile, realizing how my roots in this music and the people I share it with have become the heartbeat of my identity. But as the music lingers, I’m reminded of the challenges I’ve faced. The identity struggle between two cultures that often felt like an insurmountable divide, a puzzle I couldn’t quite fit together. It wasn’t until that 2021 summer in Spain, reconnecting with my heritage, that I understood what had always been missing: my sense of self. Like the music, I realized I wasn’t stuck between two worlds. I was a fusion of both. The American culture I grew up with and the Hispanic traditions of my family both had a place in me. The camera zooms in on my face as I reflect, then shifts to my high school years. The scene transitions to me sitting at the front of a Mock Trial competition, confidently arguing my case as president of the team, my voice steady with the same determination that powered me through every academic challenge. I remember the times I doubted my ability to succeed—when it felt like I had too many roles to juggle: varsity soccer, leadership positions, and a demanding academic workload. The pressure of maintaining my GPA while leading my teams to victory felt like an endless uphill battle. Yet, the mitochondria in me, always working behind the scenes, powered me through each challenge, pushing me to give my best. Like the mitochondria that extracts energy from within, I found the strength to persevere even when exhaustion clouded my every move. The scene shifts again. I am now in a classroom, typing away on a laptop as I work on my project, Blue Star Supplies, which sends educational materials to children in Honduras. The faces of Rafa and his siblings fill my thoughts. I remember meeting Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, and learning how his younger siblings struggled to obtain the most basic school supplies. Inspired by his story, I made it my mission to give back. My desire to serve, to make sure children like Rafa could have the resources to succeed, grew into something more—a drive to become a doctor and help underserved communities. In that moment, I realize that my journey, much like the mitochondria, is all about creating energy from within to push forward. Each challenge, each step I take, fuels my future and the people I aim to help. The screen fades to black before the title appears: The Power Within. It’s not just the mitochondria’s energy that sustains me—it’s the drive to overcome, to give back, and to help others. It’s my passion for medicine, fueled by the struggles and triumphs that have shaped me, that powers my future. As the final chord of the reggaeton song plays, I’m reminded that no matter where I go, whether in the bustling halls of a university or the quiet rooms of a clinic, I’ll carry that energy with me—fueled by my roots, my experiences, and the unyielding power within me to make a difference.

Throughout my life, I’ve faced challenges that have shaped who I am today. Growing up as a Hispanic woman, I struggled to balance my American identity with the traditions of my family. I often felt torn between two cultures, unsure of where I truly fit in. Over time, I came to embrace both parts of my identity, recognizing that they shape who I am and give me the drive to succeed. One of my biggest challenges has been learning how to manage multiple commitments while dealing with personal hardships. I’ve always been a high-achieving student, excelling in my academics while being involved in extracurriculars like Mock Trial, Technology Student Association (TSA), and playing varsity soccer. I pushed myself to excel in everything I did, but this sometimes led to burnout. I had to learn to manage my time effectively, balancing my academics, leadership roles, and sports while finding moments to rest and reconnect with my family. These challenges have taught me resilience and determination, and I’ve learned that with hard work, I can overcome even the toughest obstacles. A significant turning point for me was meeting Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, whose younger siblings struggled to obtain educational supplies at Mercedes Calderon School. Inspired by Rafa’s story, I started Blue Star Supplies, a project that sends educational materials to students in Honduras who lack resources for learning. I realized that while I worked hard to achieve academic success, others were unable to access the basic tools they needed to succeed. This project ignited my passion for giving back, especially to underserved communities like the one Rafa came from. While I’ve worked hard to excel academically, my financial struggles have been a significant challenge. I am incredibly proud to have been accepted into Cornell University, a school with a competitive acceptance rate. However, now that I’ve been accepted, I face the reality of incurring personal loans and debt to pursue my dream of becoming a doctor. My parents have contributed a small amount toward my tuition, but I rely heavily on personal savings, part-time work, and student loans to fund my education. The financial burden is significant, and as I look ahead to medical school, I know this challenge will only increase. This scholarship would make a meaningful difference in my life, alleviating some of the financial strain and allowing me to focus more on my studies, leadership roles, and extracurricular activities. With less financial stress, I would be able to dedicate myself fully to my education and pursue my goal of becoming a doctor. It would also allow me to continue my work with Blue Star Supplies and make a lasting impact on the communities that need it most.

As a student athlete, I have learned invaluable lessons about perseverance, teamwork, and leadership—qualities that have shaped both my personal and academic life. I’ve played soccer for 13 years, (the last 3 with my High School Varsity Team), and throughout that time, the sport has taught me discipline, time management, and how to stay focused on long-term goals. These lessons have inspired me to pursue a career in medicine, where I hope to use my determination and skills to help others, particularly those in underserved communities, reach their full potential. One of the most impactful experiences I’ve had as a soccer player was coaching the Lollipops program for young children at Colorado United Soccer Club. I had the opportunity to coach 4-year-olds, many from underserved communities, and seeing their joy when they scored a goal or mastered a new skill was incredibly rewarding. One particular moment stands out: Lionel, one of the kids I coached, scored a goal and his face lit up with a smile that made all the hard work worth it. It was moments like these that fueled my passion for soccer and deepened my desire to give back to the community. I saw firsthand how sports can create a sense of empowerment and accomplishment, even for young children who face obstacles in their daily lives. And that is the beauty of athletics programs! This experience inspired me to help others in a more lasting way. I began looking for ways to make a tangible impact, and one of the most meaningful projects I’ve been a part of is Blue Star Supplies. I started the project after meeting Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, whose younger siblings struggled to obtain basic educational supplies at Mercedes Calderon School. Hearing about the challenges Rafa’s siblings faced, I realized that something as simple as school supplies could have a profound impact on a child’s education. Through Blue Star Supplies, I collect and send educational materials—books, notebooks, and pens—to elementary students in Honduras. I chose this country because of my connection to the Hispanic community and because I want to support students who, like me, deserve the resources to succeed. By providing these supplies, I hope to give these children the tools they need to thrive academically. This project has reinforced my passion for helping others and has inspired my future goals. I plan to continue giving back throughout my career, especially in medicine. Like in my work with Blue Star Supplies, I want to make a lasting impact by providing care to individuals in underserved communities. Whether through sports or medicine, I am committed to helping others reach their full potential. Being a student athlete has shaped my future career goals by teaching me the value of hard work, discipline, and empathy. Playing soccer has shown me the importance of lifting others up and being part of something bigger than myself. These lessons have translated into my academics and my community service work, where I tutor younger students in math and help organize volunteer efforts. My experiences in sports and service have prepared me to face the challenges of medical school and my future career. Through coaching and my community experiences as a student athlete, I’ve realized that I want to dedicate my life to helping others, especially those in underserved communities. With unwavering dedication, I am determined to channel my passion for medicine, sports, and service to break barriers, inspire others, and leave a lasting impact on the communities that need it most.

After graduation, I plan to pursue a pre-med track at university, aiming for medical school and eventually becoming a doctor. My goal is not driven by salary but by the desire to build meaningful relationships with patients and make a lasting impact on their lives. My fascination with chemistry and biology has strengthened this passion, and I hope to use my knowledge to help others. The drive to push myself academically and professionally is rooted in my determination, which I carry in everything I do. At Littleton High School, I’ve actively sought leadership roles, always striving to bring my unique perspective as a Hispanic woman to my school and activities. As president of Mock Trial, I teach new members and lead my team through competitions, arguing both sides of a case. Leading the team to state and receiving an outstanding attorney award showed me the importance of organization, confidence, and leadership—skills that will support my journey to medical school. As vice president of the Technology Student Association (TSA), I’ve worked on technology-related projects and competed at the state level. These experiences have deepened my understanding of technology and its potential in healthcare. Additionally, as Senior Class Vice President, I represent my peers and the Hispanic demographic, helping shape events and school policies. In all these roles, I’ve learned that leadership means empowering others, and I strive to bring this mindset to everything I do. Beyond leadership, service has always been important to me. Through Mathletes, I tutor younger students in math, and in the National Honor Society, I focus on community service and tutoring. As part of Key Club, I help with volunteer efforts, and I play varsity soccer. Soccer, a sport I’ve played for 13 years, has taught me determination, teamwork, and how to push through obstacles. Like the mitochondria, I stay persistent in every aspect of my life, whether in sports or academics. A turning point for me came when I met Rafa, a newcomer from Honduras, who shared the challenges his younger siblings face at Mercedes Calderon School, particularly the lack of educational supplies. This inspired me to start Blue Star Supplies, a project that sends educational materials to elementary students in Honduras. My connection to Honduras and my desire to help other Hispanic students motivated me to take action. This project has strengthened my commitment to giving back to my community through education and healthcare. Academically, I’ve always worked hard to excel. I am an International Baccalaureate Diploma candidate, ranked 1st in my class of 295, and I’ve taken AP classes to challenge myself. My love for chemistry and biology has led me to pursue medicine, and I’m eager to deepen my understanding of the sciences in university. These subjects are the foundation of my goal to become a doctor and serve others through healthcare. Like the mitochondria, I work tirelessly to power my future. Whether through academics, leadership, service, or perseverance, I am committed to pushing myself to achieve my dreams. My journey is fueled by my passion for learning and helping others. Just as “No Me Conoce” by Jhay Cortez resonates with me, connecting me to my Hispanic roots, I carry that connection with me as I move forward. My identity, culture, and determination will continue to guide me on this path.

Mr. Stulzman wasn’t your typical high school teacher—he was the kind of teacher who could make you love calculus, and that’s saying something! When I first entered his class, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about spending the next year surrounded by derivatives and integrals. To be honest, I thought I’d barely scrape through, maybe with a B if I was lucky. But by the end of the semester, I realized he had given me something more valuable than just math skills—he had completely shifted my perspective on how I approach challenges in life. What made Mr. Stulzman so effective wasn’t just his knowledge of calculus, but his ability to make it relatable and fun. Instead of throwing formulas at us and expecting us to memorize them, he showed us how calculus applied to real-world problems. Whether it was calculating the best angle for a ramp, figuring out the optimal shape for a container, or even determining the ideal amount of nacho cheese for your chips (yes, he really did use nachos as an example!), he made everything feel practical and interesting. It wasn’t just about numbers and equations; it was about seeing the world in a new way. One of my favorite memories from his class was during our unit on the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus. We were all a bit lost, struggling to wrap our heads around the idea. But then, Mr. Stulzman, with his signature grin, said, “Think of it like nacho cheese: too little and you’re left wanting more; too much and you drown in it.” Suddenly, the whole class burst out laughing, and for the first time, the concept clicked. That’s what he did—he took these abstract, intimidating ideas and turned them into something fun and relatable. But it wasn’t just his humor that made him stand out—it was his attitude toward failure. Mr. Stulzman didn’t just expect us to get everything right the first time. He encouraged us to fail, but to fail intelligently. His motto was always, “The only bad mistake is the one you don’t learn from.” He’d often share stories of his own setbacks—whether it was a failed experiment or a project that didn’t go as planned. His point wasn’t that failure is a bad thing, but that it’s an opportunity to learn and grow. That lesson stuck with me and helped me realize that obstacles aren’t things to avoid—they’re things to learn from and conquer. Thanks to Mr. Stulzman, I not only came to appreciate calculus, but I also learned how to approach challenges with a different mindset. When I hit a roadblock, whether in school or life, I now see it as an opportunity to push forward and find a solution. Every time I struggle with something, I think about his words: “The only bad mistake is the one you don’t learn from.” And if that doesn’t work, I remind myself of his other key piece of advice: “Sometimes, all it takes is a good joke and a bit of nacho cheese to make things better.” Ultimately, Mr. Stulzman taught me that life, like calculus, isn’t about avoiding mistakes—it’s about using them as stepping stones to get better. That shift in perspective has helped me approach both my academic work and personal life with more confidence and curiosity. His class didn’t just prepare me for the next math test—it prepared me for life.

Calculus is often described as the "language of science," and for good reason—it provides the foundational tools necessary to understand and model the world around us, especially in the STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) fields. As someone passionate about pursuing a career in STEM, I’ve come to realize that calculus isn't just an abstract subject confined to the classroom; it is a vital tool that powers innovation, problem-solving, and discovery across various fields. One of the reasons calculus is so important is its ability to describe change and motion. In science and engineering, understanding how things change is essential for building accurate models of physical systems. For example, when I studied differential calculus in my class, we learned how to model the rate at which an object moves. This concept is crucial in fields such as physics, where you calculate the velocity and acceleration of particles or objects, from planets in motion to cars speeding down highways. In engineering, this kind of knowledge is applied when designing systems that rely on fluid flow, heat transfer, or electrical circuits. These are just a few instances where the principles of calculus make it possible to optimize and improve technology. Calculus is also integral in optimization problems—a key component of fields like computer science and economics. For example, in my calculus class, we worked on problems where we were asked to maximize or minimize certain quantities, like maximizing profits or minimizing material costs in construction. By understanding how to calculate derivatives and critical points, we could determine the most efficient design or approach to solve a problem. This is especially useful in technology development, where engineers and scientists need to optimize systems, from minimizing energy loss in electrical circuits to maximizing data storage capabilities in computer systems. Another area where calculus has proven invaluable is in the world of data analysis and statistics. The ability to calculate rates of change helps scientists and researchers draw insights from large datasets. In my class, I saw how calculus aids in understanding rates of growth and decay, especially when modeling real-world phenomena like population growth or radioactive decay. These concepts are fundamental for fields like biology and medicine, where understanding how diseases spread or how treatments affect patients over time can save lives. For example, the models used to predict the spread of diseases, like COVID-19, heavily rely on calculus-based concepts to project future outcomes and inform public health decisions. Additionally, calculus is essential in computer science, particularly in areas like machine learning and artificial intelligence (AI). In my calculus class, we learned how algorithms use optimization techniques, often built on calculus principles, to improve performance. Gradient descent, for example, is a method used to minimize a function by finding the slope of a curve, and it is frequently employed in AI to improve models and predictions. This technique is used to train neural networks, making it a foundational tool in developing self-driving cars, recommendation systems, and voice assistants like Siri or Alexa. In conclusion, calculus is not just a subject that stays within the confines of a textbook—it is the backbone of many of the groundbreaking developments in the STEM fields. Whether in engineering, medicine, technology, or data science, calculus provides the tools to model, predict, and optimize the processes and systems that power our world. The lessons I’ve learned in calculus will be crucial as I move forward in my education and career, allowing me to engage with the challenges of the future and contribute to solutions that improve lives.

From a young age, I’ve been drawn to creativity, problem-solving, and innovation—whether it’s through hands-on work, experimenting with new ideas, or diving deep into the sciences. As I grew older, I realized how my interests aligned with STEAM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics) and how this interdisciplinary approach could help me make a meaningful impact in the world. This realization inspired me to pursue further education in STEAM and build a career that blends creativity with critical thinking. Throughout my life, I’ve always been captivated by the scientific principles behind everyday phenomena. From exploring chemistry in my high school labs to solving problems in mathematics, I love the challenge of breaking down complex issues and finding innovative solutions. But what excites me even more is how these scientific and technological advancements can be used to improve the world. Whether it’s developing sustainable technologies, advancing health research, or finding ways to reduce the impact of climate change, STEAM offers endless possibilities to make a difference. I first became fully aware of the power of STEAM in high school when I started taking more specialized courses in physics and engineering. I loved learning about the technologies that are shaping our future, like renewable energy sources and sustainable infrastructure. At the same time, I became increasingly fascinated with how the arts play a role in the design and creativity needed in these fields. I realized that a successful solution requires more than just logic—it requires creativity, adaptability, and innovation. This is where STEAM shines: it fosters the ability to think critically, combine disciplines, and generate solutions that are both functional and forward-thinking. As I look to pursue further education, I am eager to explore how I can apply STEAM to address some of the world’s most pressing issues. I want to work in fields like sustainable engineering, environmental technology, and public health, where I can use my education to find solutions that have a positive social and environmental impact. For example, I hope to explore how technology can be harnessed to reduce waste, develop renewable energy, and create healthier living environments. I am particularly interested in researching and developing green technologies that will allow for a sustainable future while addressing global challenges like climate change. This scholarship is a critical opportunity for me to take the next step in my STEAM journey. It would provide me with the financial support to pursue an education that will enable me to further my passion for innovation and problem-solving. By studying at an institution that emphasizes STEAM education, I would have access to the best resources, mentorship, and training that will shape me into a leader in this field. The scholarship would not only help me achieve my academic goals but also enable me to contribute to the global conversation about sustainability, technology, and innovation. With this support, I will be equipped to take the knowledge I gain and apply it to solving real-world problems—whether it’s by designing a more sustainable energy grid, creating public health initiatives, or helping communities thrive through technological advancements. In the long run, I hope to use my STEAM education to create lasting change, break barriers, and inspire others to pursue their passions. Through this journey, I plan to continue pushing the boundaries of innovation, while contributing positively to society and the planet.

One of the core pillars that resonate with me most is humility. In both my academic and personal experiences, I have always believed that true growth comes from understanding that you can always learn more and that your worth isn’t measured by achievements alone, but by your willingness to listen, adapt, and serve others. A specific instance where I exemplified humility occurred during my role as the president of Mock Trial in high school. As the leader of a team, I was initially very focused on proving that I could excel and lead the group to victory. However, I quickly realized that leadership isn’t just about being the best—it’s about helping others grow and learning from those around you. I recognized that my team needed more than just guidance; they needed to feel valued and empowered. During one particular competition, we were facing a tough case, and I could sense the anxiety building up within the team. Instead of jumping in and taking over as I might have done in the past, I took a step back and asked my teammates for their insights and suggestions. I acknowledged that I didn’t have all the answers and that we were all working together to achieve a common goal. This small but impactful gesture of humility created an open environment where my team felt comfortable contributing ideas and strategies. It shifted our approach to the case and ultimately led to a stronger, more cohesive performance. I also took the time to ask my teammates about their challenges—whether they were with the case or with their own confidence. I didn’t try to fix everything on my own; I encouraged them to talk about their struggles and offered support. I remember one of my teammates, who had been particularly nervous about her cross-examination, expressing that she felt overwhelmed. Instead of giving her the answer, I helped her break down the process and focus on the key points she needed to make. The next time she took the stand, she was confident and delivered her arguments brilliantly. The outcome wasn’t just a successful competition for us, but a deeper sense of camaraderie and trust within the team. We learned that humility wasn’t just about acknowledging our weaknesses but also about building each other up and celebrating each other’s strengths. This experience not only exceeded my expectations for what leadership could look like but also showed me how humility is a powerful tool in fostering personal and collective growth. In this situation, my humble approach allowed my team to thrive and brought out the best in everyone. The impact was profound—our team not only made it to the state competition, but we also learned the importance of collaboration and valuing each person’s contribution. I realized that true leadership in any environment, whether in healthcare or elsewhere, is about serving others and understanding that every individual has something valuable to offer.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been fascinated with how things work. I remember playing "doctor" with my stuffed pink elephant, stethoscope in hand, checking her little "heartbeat" while carefully declaring, “You’re going to be okay, Trompita.” I think that’s where it all started. While other kids were pretending to be astronauts or superheroes, I was saving the day one stuffed animal at a time. Little did I know then that this childhood imagination would lead me toward a career in medicine. My passion for helping others grew alongside me. I moved to Colorado when I was just one year old, and my mom, an immigrant from Spain, has been teaching public school here for years. Her work with English Language Learners exposed me to people from all over the world. I quickly learned the importance of empathy, understanding, and the power of community. But it was my family’s health challenges that truly ignited my desire to pursue a career in healthcare. My grandpa, who passed away from lung cancer, left a lasting impact on me. He fought for two years, going through chemotherapy and radiation, but in the end, he chose to stop treatment. It was a heartbreaking decision, but it taught me something profound about the importance of dignity and compassion in healthcare. I saw firsthand how crucial it is for medical professionals to not only treat the disease but to also care for the emotional well-being of patients and their families. Then, a few years later, my other grandpa passed away after a long battle with diabetes. Watching him slowly deteriorate was tough. I couldn’t help but wonder what could have been done to improve his quality of life, how the medical field could have done more. Both of these experiences left me questioning, “What more can I do to help?” and reaffirmed my decision to pursue medicine—not just to help cure diseases but to help people navigate their journey with understanding and compassion. Beyond my family’s struggles, my mom’s experience as an immigrant also deeply shaped me. She had to go back to school to pursue a career in education after moving to the U.S., which was no easy task. I saw her work multiple jobs, juggle school, and raise two kids with determination and grit. Her resilience taught me that obstacles are just opportunities for growth, and this mindset has driven me throughout my own journey. Being bilingual and bicultural has given me a unique perspective. I can connect with people from different backgrounds and relate to the challenges that come with navigating two worlds. It’s shaped the way I approach life and fueled my desire to help those who feel like outsiders or who are struggling. Now, as I look forward to a career in medicine, I realize that the human side of healthcare is just as important as the scientific one. I want to be more than just a doctor who writes prescriptions or performs procedures. I want to be a doctor who listens, who understands, and who makes people feel seen. Whether it’s through preventative care or providing comfort to patients during their toughest times, I aim to make a difference in my community and beyond. When I think back to Trompita, my pink elephant, I realize that the little moments of compassion I learned from those childhood games are the same principles that will guide my work as a future doctor. Just as I once saved the day for my stuffed animals, I want to do the same for real people, making them feel heard, valued, and cared for.

Growing up, I was always at the intersection of two very distinct worlds: Spain and Colorado. I was born in Spain, and when I was one, my mom, a Spanish immigrant, brought me to the U.S. Talk about a cultural whiplash. I went from eating churros for breakfast to surviving on bagels and cream cheese. Spanish is my first language, and let me tell you, being bilingual has been a wild ride. On one hand, being bilingual is like having a superpower. I can charm a room in two languages, translate for my family at the doctor’s office (because they still think “cuadro” means “square” when it’s actually “frame”—thanks, Google), and connect with people from all walks of life. On the other hand, I’ve had my fair share of challenges. For years, I lived in that strange space of not feeling “fully” Spanish or “fully” American—like I was a walking cultural hybrid. I’ve been asked if I’m from Mexico (I’m not), and I’ve had people assume that I didn’t know English (shocking, considering I’m writing this in English). But over time, I’ve learned to embrace it all. I’m not just "one" or "the other"—I’m both, and that’s pretty powerful. One of the things I’ve loved most is using my bilingual skills to help others. My mom, a public school teacher, works with English Language Learners, and I’ve been her unofficial translator and sidekick since I could remember. I’ve helped other students navigate their schoolwork, translating assignments and explaining things in a way that feels familiar. It’s incredibly rewarding to see someone’s face light up when they finally understand something they’ve been struggling with. Not to mention, I’ve gotten really good at explaining the difference between “año” (year) and “anio” (that one is... definitely not the same thing). Volunteering and working with my mom’s students made me realize the importance of using my bilingualism to help others, especially in fields like healthcare. I’ve seen firsthand how language barriers can affect someone’s well-being. In my future career, I want to make a difference by providing care to Spanish-speaking communities. I know that speaking the language and understanding cultural nuances can build trust and improve patient care. After graduation, I hope to pursue a career in medicine, where I can be a bridge between diverse communities and ensure everyone has access to quality healthcare. Being bilingual has made me resilient, resourceful, and adaptable. It’s also taught me that being different isn’t a limitation—it’s an asset. It’s given me the ability to connect with people from all walks of life, which I plan to continue doing as I pursue a career in medicine. Whether I’m in the operating room or a community health clinic, I want to use my skills to make sure everyone feels heard, understood, and cared for. Being bilingual isn’t just about knowing two languages. It’s about using those languages to break down barriers, connect with people, and make a difference. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.

When I think of the movie that has had the greatest impact on my life, I can’t help but think of The Notebook. At first glance, you might assume it’s just a typical romance movie, but for me, it’s been so much more than that—it’s been a lesson in love, perseverance, and the importance of truly living in the moment. The first time I watched The Notebook, I was much younger, and like most teens, I was all about the love story between Noah and Allie. Their relationship was the stuff of dreams—sweeping romance, grand gestures, and undying devotion. But as I watched it again over the years, the film took on a deeper meaning. The real impact of The Notebook hit me through the journey of Noah and Allie’s love over time, especially when Allie’s memory started to fade. The depth of their relationship, despite the challenges they faced, taught me something I hadn't fully understood before: love is not just about the grand moments, but about the small, everyday decisions we make. Watching Noah, with such patience and devotion, fight to keep their connection alive, even as Allie’s memory faded, opened my eyes to what real commitment looks like. It’s not just the “I love you’s” but the “I’ll be here for you no matter what” that count. It also highlighted the value of living in the present moment. The characters weren’t waiting for the “perfect moment” to love; they loved fully and passionately despite life’s obstacles. This resonated with me on a personal level, especially because, growing up, I’ve often had to balance the complexities of different cultures and family expectations. It reminded me that life is short and unpredictable, so it's important to make every moment count, not just wait for the ideal situation. Another reason The Notebook stands out is because of its theme of memory. Allie’s memory loss gave me a perspective on the fragility of life and how easily things can change. It made me realize that we should appreciate the people around us now and create memories worth cherishing. It’s a reminder to not take things for granted, and it’s something I try to apply in my own life. My grandparents’ struggles with health, particularly my grandfather's battle with diabetes, reinforced this message for me—life is precious, and I want to be present for every moment. The Notebook also made me realize that love and connection can take different forms at different stages of life, and that growth and change are a part of it all. Whether it’s romantic love, familial love, or the love of friends, each connection leaves a mark on us. And it’s not always easy—there are sacrifices, misunderstandings, and moments of doubt. But if you’re willing to put in the effort, like Noah did for Allie, those connections can become the most important part of your life. So, why did The Notebook have such an impact on me? It taught me the importance of living in the moment, of cherishing love in all its forms, and of committing to the people who matter most, even when things get tough. Those lessons continue to guide me as I navigate my own relationships and goals in life. In the end, it’s not just about finding a great love story. It’s about learning to make the moments count, no matter what life throws your way. And for that, I’ll always be grateful to The Notebook.

Hi there! I’m someone who’s always felt a bit like a mitochondrion—small, but mighty. If you’re wondering, the mitochondrion is the powerhouse of the cell. It produces the energy that keeps everything running smoothly, and I like to think of myself the same way. Whether I’m supporting friends, helping out at school, or being there for others, I aim to be a positive influence, just like the mitochondrion powering the world around me. I was born in Spain but moved to Colorado when I was one. My mom, originally from Spain, is an immigrant who has been a public school teacher here for many years, teaching English as a second language. Growing up around her, I learned that no matter where you’re from, there’s always a way to make an impact. Her resilience in going back to school and pushing through challenges inspired me to work hard and never give up, no matter what obstacles come my way. This resilience is what inspired my passion for medicine. I’ve seen firsthand how important healthcare is, especially when my grandfather passed away from complications of diabetes. Watching him struggle made me realize that there’s so much we can do to improve people’s lives, especially those with chronic illnesses. I want to be the person who can offer hope, provide support, and help find solutions for patients. In addition to my love for medicine, I’ve always been passionate about service. During high school, I started Blue Star Supplies, a project where I collected educational materials and sent them to kids in Honduras. Many of my friends are from Honduras, and I realized that so many students didn’t have access to the resources they needed to succeed. Through this project, I learned that even small actions can make a big difference. My experiences have shaped my goal of becoming a doctor who doesn’t just treat illness but advocates for overall well-being. Healthcare is about improving quality of life, providing support, and listening to patients’ needs. As I pursue a medical degree, I hope to be a role model, especially for women and young people from immigrant backgrounds. I want them to see that no matter where you come from, you can make a difference. Ultimately, I plan to make a positive impact by becoming a doctor who not only heals but empowers others. Whether in healthcare, education, or simply being there for someone when they need it most, every step we take to help others is a step closer to a better world. So, that’s me—ready to take on the world, one mitochondrion-powered step at a time!

Imagine this: me, a nervous high school sophomore, walking into my first Mock Trial competition with more self-doubt than a chicken trying to cross the road. It was supposed to be an exciting experience, but instead, I was ready to combust with anxiety. Let’s just say I was not the confident, poised attorney I had envisioned in my head. And oh, did I have a mountain of obstacles ahead. I had just been elected president of the Mock Trial team, and the pressure was palpable. My team was full of bright minds and passionate people, but we had one issue—our competition skills were like a puppy trying to perform Shakespeare: a bit messy and definitely lacking direction. On top of that, we were facing some of the best teams in the state, and I was certain we had about as much chance of winning as a snowball surviving in the desert. But I wasn’t about to let my team—or my leadership role—go down in flames. So, I pulled myself together (even if it was with a few awkward pep talks in the mirror). I quickly realized that if I was going to turn this ship around, I needed more than just good intentions. It was time to get strategic. First, I focused on clear communication. I made sure everyone on the team knew their roles and responsibilities inside and out. Think of it like assembling a team of superheroes—but instead of capes, we had legal briefs. I worked with each person individually to strengthen their skills, whether that meant helping our witnesses memorize their lines or refining my own closing argument to make sure it didn’t sound like a bad infomercial. Communication was key, and I worked hard to foster an environment where everyone felt comfortable giving feedback and trying new ideas. Then came the practice. Oh, the practice. We held mock sessions until I could recite our case in my sleep (and trust me, I did). We also took time to practice under pressure, mimicking the stress of competition. After all, there’s no “trial by fire” if you don’t know how to handle the heat. If anyone faltered or messed up, we didn’t let it slide. We turned it into a lesson, a step closer to being the best-prepared team out there. And yes, this involved a lot of late-night pizza and caffeine-fueled strategy sessions. The biggest breakthrough came when I stopped worrying about being perfect and focused on just being present. As the case unfolded during competitions, I found myself confident—not because I had every detail memorized, but because I trusted my team. We leaned into each other’s strengths and worked seamlessly to cover our weaknesses. That’s when I realized that true leadership wasn’t about having all the answers; it was about inspiring others to find them together. The result? We made it to state. Not only that, but I was also honored with an “Outstanding Attorney” award, which I’m pretty sure I kept in my bedroom for way longer than necessary, just to remind myself that hard work and determination can actually pay off. The experience taught me to embrace adversity, refine my leadership skills, and trust in the power of teamwork. That victory wasn’t just a plaque or a certificate. It was a reminder that obstacles are just opportunities to turn things up to 11. It’s about facing challenges head-on, embracing the struggle, and making the most of every opportunity that comes your way.

In my community, I’ve witnessed firsthand how access to educational resources can drastically affect a student's success. As a high school student, I have a unique privilege: access to textbooks, online resources, and extracurricular opportunities that make learning a bit easier. However, not all students, especially in underprivileged areas, have these same opportunities. One particular issue that grabbed my attention was the lack of educational materials in rural parts of Honduras, where many of my friends’ families are from. Motivated by the stark contrast between the resources I’ve had and the struggles my peers' families have faced, I decided to take action. With the goal of supporting children in Honduras, I launched a project called Blue Star Supplies, which focuses on sending educational materials to elementary schools in underserved communities. By collecting donated books, stationery, and other learning tools, I’ve been able to ship supplies to children in need, giving them access to materials they wouldn’t otherwise have. The journey wasn’t easy. I had to coordinate with local schools, ensure the materials were suitable for the age groups, and get the word out to my school and community. But the impact has been incredible. After sending the first batch of supplies, I received heartfelt thanks from both teachers and students in Honduras. They expressed how the materials helped enhance their learning experience, allowing students to engage more fully in their lessons. The smile on a student’s face when they received their first proper notebook was the reward I needed to know that this initiative was worth it. In the future, I hope to expand Blue Star Supplies by collaborating with other organizations and schools, hosting fundraising events, and increasing awareness of the challenges faced by students in underprivileged countries. I also want to use my connections within my high school’s community to encourage other students to get involved, raising both awareness and the volume of donations. My ultimate goal is to make a lasting impact on the education of children who, like so many of us, simply need a chance to succeed.

Let’s talk about challenges. You know, those little things in life that seem to pop up and test your patience. One challenge I’m constantly navigating is living in two worlds—one that’s Spanish, full of flamenco, paella, and a lot of passionate discussions, and one that’s American, where “small talk” reigns and everyone’s obsessed with pumpkin spice lattes. My mom, a determined immigrant from Spain, moved us to Colorado when I was just one. We were immediately plunged into a new culture, a new language, and—let’s be real—lots of awkward encounters when I tried to explain things in my Spanglish. Being bilingual was a double-edged sword. On one hand, I could chat about soccer (fútbol) in Spanish with my Spanish-speaking friends, but on the other hand, I had to figure out how to make sense of English in school. My mom was working hard to make sure we had everything we needed, but as a kid, I had no idea what that meant. I just knew I had to learn English, and fast. And guess what? I didn’t always get it right. I often mixed up words, used the wrong tense, and thought “embarrassed” was pronounced like “embarrass-ed.” But I pushed through it. I didn’t let it stop me. I kept going—making mistakes, but also learning from them. One moment stands out: the first time I volunteered at my mom’s school, reading to a group of preschoolers. I could see the lightbulb moment in their eyes when they finally understood a word or concept. That was my “aha” moment. I realized that helping others understand something complex, just like I was trying to do with my second language, was powerful. It was about finding a way to make people feel seen, heard, and understood. It’s not easy to get across when you’re the new kid in class, trying to learn the ropes. But the magic of seeing that lightbulb go off made it all worth it. This whole experience—being caught between two cultures and languages—has shaped me in ways I never expected. I’ve learned resilience. The immigrant hustle is real, and I’ve seen it firsthand from my mom, who came to this country and built a career from scratch. She went back to school as an adult, with two kids in tow, and worked tirelessly to provide us with opportunities. She showed me that life doesn’t hand you success on a silver platter; you have to work for it, and sometimes, that means putting in extra effort where you’re not used to it. Fast forward to today. I’m passionate about pursuing a career in medicine, and I think my unique background gives me an edge. I’ve learned to adapt quickly, navigate challenges, and communicate across different worlds—skills that are crucial in healthcare. There are always new obstacles to overcome, whether it’s mastering complex biology concepts or connecting with people from diverse backgrounds. But I’m used to rising above challenges, and now I’m more equipped than ever to do just that. In the end, what I’ve learned is that obstacles aren’t just setbacks—they’re opportunities to learn and grow. They teach us about resilience, problem-solving, and how to connect with people in meaningful ways. I’m still figuring out how to balance my two worlds, but I’ve learned to embrace the struggle. It’s a part of who I am now, and I know it’s what’s going to drive me toward making a positive impact. So yeah, I might still mess up a word here and there, but I’m turning it into fuel to rise above—and to help others do the same.

Let’s start with a fun fact: mitochondria are the powerhouse of the cell. I know, it’s cliché, but hear me out—I see myself as the mitochondria in every community I’m a part of. My job? Keep things running, keep the energy flowing, and add a little spark wherever I go. A bit weird, I know, but it’s how I see my role in life. I was born in Spain (yes, the land of paella, flamenco, and beautiful beaches), and when I was just one, my mom moved us to Colorado. She’s from Spain, my dad’s from North Dakota, and our family life has always been a blend of two different cultures. Growing up in Colorado, I had to learn English, adjust to new norms, and balance my Spanish heritage with American life. It wasn’t always easy, but it shaped me into who I am today. Watching my mom, an immigrant, work her way up in education has taught me the value of hard work and perseverance. She had to go back to school and build a career from the ground up. It wasn’t easy, but her resilience has been a huge influence on me. I’ve learned to tackle challenges head-on and use that same grit to push through whatever comes my way. Being bilingual is also a game-changer. My mom teaches English to language learners, and through that, I’ve met families from all over the world. Volunteering at her school, reading to kids, and playing with preschoolers has shown me how important it is to be present for others, especially when they’re struggling with language or cultural barriers. It’s given me a deeper appreciation for helping others feel seen and heard. As for my career goals, they’re rooted in science and medicine. My passion for biology and chemistry has grown over the years, and I’m excited to continue exploring these subjects. Watching my grandpa battle diabetes and seeing how it affected his health and quality of life made me want to pursue a career in medicine. I want to help people like my grandpa, who suffer from diseases that have no easy answers. It’s my way of giving back to the people who supported me growing up. And let’s not forget about multitasking—whether it’s leading Mock Trial or playing varsity soccer, I’m always juggling things. But it all boils down to the same goal: making a positive impact. Whether it’s through my community involvement, academic pursuits, or extracurriculars, I want to create positive energy wherever I go. Looking ahead, I plan to pursue a career in medicine where I can truly connect with my patients and break down barriers, especially for immigrant communities. I’ve learned a lot about resilience, hard work, and making a difference, and I can’t wait to keep applying those lessons. So, that’s me—just a girl trying to balance two worlds, stay true to my roots, and make a difference. If life is a cell, I’ll keep being the mitochondria.

I was born in Spain, and at just one year old, my mom packed up our life and moved us to Colorado. She’s from Spain, and my dad’s from North Dakota—talk about a blend of cultures! Growing up, I always felt like I was living in two different worlds, and I loved every second of it. I spent every summer in Spain, hanging out with my grandma, speaking Spanish, and soaking up the culture. But back in Colorado, I had to adjust to a new environment, a different language, and a school system that was nothing like what I had seen in Spain. Being an immigrant’s daughter isn’t easy. My mom had to go back to school to pursue her career in education after moving here, which was tough on our family. I didn’t see my extended family often, and it was hard not having that close-knit support system around me. But those challenges? They’ve shaped me into who I am today. I’ve learned to be resourceful, to be present in the moment, and to appreciate the sacrifices my mom made for our family. Plus, I’ve come to realize how important it is to truly embrace every opportunity you have, because you never know when it might slip away. Being bicultural and bilingual? It’s been a superpower. Speaking both Spanish and English has opened doors for me and helped me relate to people from all walks of life. I’ve been able to connect with other immigrants and understand the struggles they face. And in turn, it’s made me more determined to be the kind of person who helps others navigate those challenges. Language isn’t just about communicating—it’s about bridging gaps, fostering understanding, and connecting people from different backgrounds. It’s a skill I’m grateful for every day, and it’s something I’ll continue to use in everything I do. Living between two cultures has shaped how I view the world. It’s given me a deeper appreciation for my roots, my family, and the sacrifices they made. But it’s also shown me how important it is to stay grounded, adaptable, and resilient. The U.S. gave me opportunities I might never have had back in Spain, and that’s something I’ll never take for granted. Every day, I’m reminded of how much my family has overcome to give me a better life. My family’s experience has also inspired my career dreams. Watching my mom work with immigrant students, helping them adapt to a new language and culture, showed me the power of education and care. My grandfather’s long battle with diabetes was another wake-up call. It made me realize how important healthcare is, not just for individuals, but for families who need someone to advocate for them. I want to be that person in the future—a healthcare professional who understands the struggles of being an immigrant and can use that experience to make a real difference in people’s lives. In the end, being both Spanish and American has been a gift. It’s taught me how to be adaptable, compassionate, and open-minded. And it’s given me a sense of purpose: to make an impact in healthcare and help others who are going through the same things my family has experienced. I’m proud of my roots, excited about what’s to come, and determined to use my story to help create positive change in the world.

Life throws curveballs. We all know that, but how we respond is what defines us. One of the most defining moments in my journey occurred when my grandfather Terry, a man whose strength and resilience always inspired me, passed away due to complications from diabetes. Watching him battle the long, slow deterioration of his health was devastating. A man who had always been larger than life, filled with wisdom, laughter, and love, was suddenly vulnerable to a disease that couldn’t be beaten. But his passing didn’t mark the end of my journey—it marked the beginning of my resolve to "turn it up to 11." Life hasn’t always been easy. Growing up, I navigated two worlds—my mother, an immigrant from Spain, and my father from North Dakota. I learned early on that having two cultures isn’t always seamless. It often meant we couldn’t travel to see my extended family as often as I would have liked, and I knew what it felt like to miss out on family gatherings others took for granted. The distance between us was palpable, but every time I got to see them, it was like a rare gift. Those moments taught me to cherish every minute I had with family, regardless of how fleeting it may be. From this, I learned the importance of being present, to carpe diem, and to appreciate every opportunity to connect. My grandfather's decline further cemented this mindset. Watching him battle diabetes was heartbreaking and also a reminder of life’s fragility. I realized that if I wanted to make a meaningful impact, I couldn’t sit back. I needed to act. I needed to channel my grief into purpose. In that moment, I didn’t just want to help those suffering from chronic diseases; I wanted to change healthcare for others like him. So, I threw myself into academics, leadership roles, and volunteer work with renewed determination. Whether it was leading my Mock Trial team to success or supporting my mom's school by reading to kids, I gave everything I had to make an impact. This relentless pursuit of excellence, pushing past setbacks, is what I call "turning it up to 11." I no longer viewed challenges as roadblocks, but as stepping stones that propelled me forward. The passing of my grandfather fueled my passion for healthcare. It’s not just about finding cures or providing treatments; it’s about addressing health issues at their core and making a difference in people’s lives. "Turning it up to 11" means I don’t just want to become a doctor—I want to serve with empathy and innovate in healthcare. That’s why I would jump at the chance to participate in a mentorship program with Inspire11. This program would provide the guidance and tools to level up. It’s about learning from a mentor, applying that wisdom to my goals, and continuing to turn challenges into opportunities. With Inspire11’s mentorship, I’ll be equipped to tackle the challenges of healthcare and beyond, while leading with purpose and resilience—values that my grandfather embodied in his own life. I’ve already proven I know what it means to "turn it up to 11." Now, with the mentorship and resources of Inspire11, I can take my passion, experience, and dedication to a whole new level. I’m ready to show up, lead, serve, and make the world a better place.

Growing up, I always believed that women had the power to change the world—and for me, that change would come through STEM. From a young age, I saw my mother, a fearless immigrant from Spain, embody this notion every single day. As an educator, she faced incredible obstacles: learning a new language, adapting to an unfamiliar culture, and breaking through barriers for herself and her students. But she never stopped pushing forward. Her grit and resilience became the foundation of my own drive, and it instilled in me an unwavering belief that if I wanted to make an impact, I would have to break boundaries, too. That’s exactly what I’m setting out to do. My passion for STEM—especially in the fields of medicine, biology, and technology—has fueled me to pursue a future where I can make a difference. I’m not just another student in a classroom; I’m a woman on a mission to challenge the status quo, to bring fresh ideas, and to empower those around me with knowledge. Whether it’s through my work as president of Mock Trial or volunteering at my mom’s school, I’ve seen firsthand how important it is for women to step up, take leadership roles, and contribute to communities—especially in fields like STEM where our voices have often been underrepresented. I’m determined to amplify that voice and pave the way for future generations of women. The STEM field is bursting with opportunities to innovate, create, and make a lasting difference. I’m ready to take my education and turn it into action. Whether I’m advocating for change in the medical field or pushing the boundaries of scientific discovery, my goal is clear: to use my knowledge, curiosity, and passion to drive progress. I want to be the woman in the room who is not afraid to ask the tough questions, challenge existing assumptions, and introduce new solutions. Women in STEM need to be unapologetically bold—because when we stop questioning, when we stop pushing boundaries, we stop progressing. This scholarship would be the catalyst for my journey toward making that bold impact. It’s not just financial support for me—it’s the validation that my ambition, my curiosity, and my relentless drive to make a difference matter. I plan to contribute to the STEM field not just with my ideas, but with my actions, by breaking down walls, shattering ceilings, and inspiring others—especially young women—to pursue their passions in STEM fields, no matter the obstacles. In a world that needs change, I know that women in STEM will be at the forefront. This scholarship would allow me to channel my energy, curiosity, and ambition into making that change happen. The time is now for women to own their place in the future of STEM. I am ready to lead, innovate, and transform. This is just the beginning.

The person who has had the most profound influence on my life is my mother. Born and raised in Spain, she moved to the United States to build a better life for my sister and me. When we first arrived in Colorado, she faced immense challenges—navigating a new country, learning a new language, and adapting to a foreign culture. Yet, she chose not to simply survive but to thrive. She went back to school to pursue a career in education while raising us and working a demanding job. Her resilience and determination have shaped my entire perspective on life and education. What has always stood out to me about her is her unwavering belief in the transformative power of education. As a public school teacher working with English Language Learners (ELLs), she has touched the lives of countless students. She has shown me that education isn’t just a means to an end—it is a tool that can break barriers, provide opportunities, and create lasting change. Witnessing her passion for teaching inspired me to follow a similar path and reinforced my belief in the importance of using education to change lives. One of my favorite memories is volunteering at my mom’s school, reading to children, and playing with preschoolers. It was here that I saw firsthand how powerful it is to engage with young minds and make learning fun and accessible. I loved connecting with the kids, helping them grow, and seeing their faces light up when they grasped new concepts. That experience deepened my desire to pursue a career where I could make a meaningful impact on others, just as my mother does every day. Inspired by her, I sought out activities that would build my skills and prepare me for the future. Joining Mock Trial and speech and debate was a turning point for me. I didn’t just want to participate—I wanted to excel. These activities challenged me to think critically, communicate confidently, and advocate for myself and others. Mock Trial, in particular, taught me how to craft compelling arguments and stay composed under pressure. It was through these experiences that I realized my potential for leadership and my passion for using my voice to create change. What truly resonated with me through these experiences is the realization that making an impact isn’t about following the traditional path—it’s about pushing boundaries, challenging norms, and advocating for those who can’t speak for themselves. Just like my mother, who tore down barriers in her own life, I’m determined to take the lessons I’ve learned and make a real difference in the world. My passion for medicine isn’t just about the science. It’s about using that knowledge to advocate for people, especially underserved populations. I want to provide better care, lead with empathy, and work toward a future where everyone has access to the healthcare they need. The lessons I’ve learned from my mother, combined with the skills I’ve honed through Mock Trial and speech and debate, will equip me to be a compassionate, innovative force for change in the medical field. In conclusion, my mother’s resilience and belief in education have shaped me into the person I am today. Her example has inspired me to pursue higher education, not just for a degree, but to make a difference in the world. My involvement in Mock Trial and speech and debate has strengthened my leadership, critical thinking, and communication skills, which I’ll carry with me into the future. Like my mother, I aspire to break barriers and change lives, and I am ready to make that impact in the medical field.

One of the most significant challenges I’ve faced was when my grandpa was diagnosed with lung cancer. I was only 10 years old, and watching someone so full of life deteriorate so quickly had a profound impact on me. Despite undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, my grandpa passed away just two months after his diagnosis. This experience taught me the unpredictability of life and the importance of resilience. Seeing my family support him through such a difficult time inspired me to pursue a career in healthcare, driven by a desire to help others facing similar struggles. In addition to my grandpa’s battle, I also watched my other grandfather endure a long fight with diabetes and its complications. His resilience in the face of suffering taught me the importance of perseverance. Both experiences fueled my desire to understand the science behind diseases and how they affect families. I want to contribute to the fight against diseases like cancer and diabetes, helping people not just survive, but live better lives. Another challenge I’ve faced is watching my mom, an immigrant from Spain, work tirelessly to pursue a career in education. After moving to the U.S., she had to return to school to continue her career, all while raising my sister and me. The struggles of balancing work, school, and family taught me the value of hard work and perseverance. My mom’s resilience in overcoming adversity has inspired me and taught me that no matter what obstacles life throws at you, perseverance is key to success. These experiences have shaped my view on education. I’ve learned that knowledge is powerful and can be used to make a tangible difference. My interest in science grew as I wanted to better understand the medical field and contribute to finding solutions to the health problems that have affected my family. I began to see education not just as a way to advance personally, but as a tool to help others. As I continue my education, I plan to use my knowledge to positively impact my community. I am determined to pursue a career in medicine, with the goal of helping people directly and contributing to public health efforts. I hope to make a difference in the fight against diseases like cancer and diabetes and to be a part of research and treatment innovations that improve people’s lives. I also want to advocate for better healthcare access, especially for underserved communities. I believe everyone deserves quality healthcare, and through my education, I hope to support initiatives that make healthcare more inclusive and equitable. By becoming a doctor, I aim to contribute to a healthcare system that focuses not only on treatment but also on prevention and education. Ultimately, my experiences with my grandfathers and my mom’s resilience have taught me that life is unpredictable, but education gives us the power to shape our future. I am committed to using my education to make a positive impact, helping individuals and communities live healthier, more fulfilling lives.

My name is Sofia Millner, and my passion for math and science has been a driving force throughout my academic journey. Since I was young, I have been captivated by how math and science connect to the world around us, from explaining the natural phenomena to solving practical problems. I have always believed that math and science are not just subjects in school but the keys to understanding and improving the world. Throughout my high school years, I have pursued every opportunity to deepen my understanding of math and science. I have been an active participant in Math Olympiad competitions, a platform that challenges me to think critically and creatively. It’s a space where I can test my problem-solving abilities, and the more I engage in these competitions, the more I realize how math transcends simple equations—it's a tool that helps solve complex problems and make sense of the world. One of the most fulfilling experiences I’ve had is mentoring younger students through Mathletes, a volunteer program that helps elementary school children with math. As a mentor, I’ve been able to share my love for math, provide guidance, and inspire them to view math as something exciting and valuable, rather than just a set of rules. This role has made me realize that teaching is not just about transferring knowledge, but about fostering curiosity and helping students build confidence in their abilities. Through mentoring, I’ve also gained a deeper understanding of math because teaching others forces me to break down concepts in ways that are clear and relatable. In addition to my passion for math, I have also developed a keen interest in science, particularly in biochemistry. I’m drawn to how math and science intersect to solve real-world problems, such as medical advancements and environmental issues. I’ve had the privilege of participating in the Technology Student Association, where I’ve collaborated with peers on projects that blend scientific principles with technological innovation. These experiences have not only deepened my scientific knowledge but also improved my teamwork and leadership skills, which I plan to apply as I pursue a career in a field that marries both science and technology. Looking ahead, I hope to make a lasting impact in the fields of math and science by applying my skills to solve complex issues, especially in healthcare and sustainability. Whether it’s by improving healthcare systems through data analysis or developing sustainable technologies, I’m committed to using math and science as tools for positive change. I also aim to inspire others, especially young students, to pursue careers in these fields. I believe that education is key to unlocking potential, and I want to help others see the incredible possibilities that math and science can offer. In conclusion, I am committed to pursuing a career in math and science to make a difference in the world. Whether through academic research, innovation, or teaching, I want to help solve the world’s challenges while also inspiring others to follow in these fields. Through my continued passion for math, I hope to create opportunities for both myself and future generations to make meaningful contributions to the world.

I was born in Spain but moved to Colorado when I was just one year old. My mom, who was born and raised in Spain, has been a public school teacher since moving to the U.S. She teaches English Language Learners, and through her work, my sister and I have been fortunate enough to meet families from all over the world. Her job has exposed me to diverse cultures and taught me the importance of education in creating opportunities for individuals from different backgrounds. Every summer, my mom would take us back to Spain to visit our grandmother and immerse ourselves in the Spanish culture. These trips allowed me to stay connected to my roots and develop a deeper understanding of my heritage. The combination of growing up in a multicultural environment and spending time in Spain has shaped my worldview and reinforced the value of diversity and community. My mom's dedication to her students has inspired me to pursue education with the same passion and commitment. The more I learn, the more I realize the importance of using my education to help others, especially those in underrepresented communities. I am determined to pursue a career in healthcare, where I can make a positive impact by addressing health disparities and advocating for equitable access to care. Through my education, I hope to bring about meaningful change and contribute to creating a more inclusive and compassionate world.

I moved to Colorado when I was just one year old, and although I don’t remember much about my early years, I’ve always felt that my journey has been shaped by the people and cultures that surround me. My mom, who was born and raised in Spain, moved to Colorado to pursue her career in education. As a public school teacher, she has taught English Language Learners (ELL) for years, and because of her work, my childhood was filled with interactions with families from all over the world. From a young age, I learned the importance of cultural diversity and how meaningful it is to build bridges between people from different backgrounds. My mom’s dedication to teaching English as a second language allowed me to see firsthand how education can be a transformative force, not just for individuals but for entire communities. I’ve met families who fled from conflict, immigrants seeking better opportunities, and refugees starting over in a new country. These experiences have had a lasting impact on me, teaching me about resilience, the power of language, and the significance of kindness and understanding. Every summer, my mom took my sister and me to Spain to visit our grandmother, which allowed us to further immerse ourselves in Spanish culture and stay connected to our heritage. These trips were incredibly formative in understanding my roots and the deep value of family and tradition. It also helped me appreciate the rich cultural history that my mom brought with her to Colorado. Spending time in Spain, I saw firsthand how language, customs, and traditions can unite people, but also how difficult it can be for some to adjust to new environments when faced with cultural differences. Growing up with a mother who was deeply invested in supporting students from various cultural backgrounds also influenced my outlook on life. I saw how hard she worked to help students who were learning a new language while simultaneously trying to adjust to a new country, all while navigating their own personal challenges. Through this, I learned that the barriers people face are often bigger than we realize, and overcoming them takes patience, empathy, and determination. My mom’s dedication to her students has inspired me to pursue a career where I can make a meaningful difference in the lives of others. The global perspectives I gained by being immersed in diverse communities have broadened my worldview, and I am passionate about continuing to learn from and connect with people from different cultures. These experiences have led me to choose healthcare as my future career path, where I hope to contribute to improving the lives of people, particularly underserved communities. As a woman entering a field that requires both emotional intelligence and scientific knowledge, I also plan to advocate for better access to healthcare for immigrant and minority populations. The understanding I’ve gained about language barriers, cultural differences, and the challenges people face in adapting to new environments will help me approach my future medical career with a unique perspective. I want to make sure that every patient I encounter feels heard, respected, and understood, regardless of their background. By embracing my multicultural background and using it as a source of strength, I plan to contribute to the healthcare field by breaking down the barriers that often prevent marginalized communities from accessing the care they need. I believe my experiences growing up in a diverse environment have shaped who I am today, and I am committed to making the world a better place by continuing to connect with and support people from all walks of life.

From a young age, I’ve been fascinated by the human body and how healthcare professionals have the power to heal and improve lives. My passion for science and helping others, combined with my personal experiences, has led me to pursue a degree in healthcare. I’ve witnessed the transformative power of medical care through the suffering of loved ones and the compassion of those providing care. These experiences have ignited my desire to contribute to the healthcare field, particularly as a woman in a profession that has historically been male-dominated. One pivotal experience that shaped my decision was watching my grandfather’s battle with lung cancer. Diagnosed with the disease just two months before he passed away, I saw the emotional and physical toll it took on him and our family. Despite undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, he ultimately chose to stop treatment, exhausted by the strain. This experience, while heartbreaking, strengthened my resolve to pursue a career in healthcare. I want to be part of efforts to better understand diseases like cancer and provide more effective treatments for patients, as well as offer support to families during such challenging times. In addition, my best friend Elizabeth, who has struggled with severe depression, bipolar disorder, and detachment, has profoundly influenced my decision. Over the years, I have learned the importance of compassion and patience when it comes to mental health. Elizabeth’s challenges have inspired me to pursue a career where I can advocate for mental health awareness and integrated care. I believe the future of healthcare must address both physical and mental well-being to offer holistic care to patients. As a woman pursuing a career in healthcare, I am aware of the challenges women face in this field. Despite significant strides, there are still barriers such as gender bias, unequal pay, and a lack of representation in leadership roles. I hope to make a difference by breaking down these barriers, not only for myself but for others who will follow. I want to be a role model for young women, showing them that they can excel in a field that requires both intelligence and empathy. I aim to inspire women to pursue their dreams in healthcare, regardless of the challenges they may face. My leadership roles have also prepared me for this journey. As president of Mock Trial, I learned to think critically, organize efficiently, and support my team in achieving goals—skills that are invaluable in healthcare. Additionally, my volunteer experiences, from tutoring younger students to working with community organizations, have shown me the importance of service and empathy. Healthcare is not just about treating diseases; it’s about addressing the whole person’s physical and emotional needs. Ultimately, my goal is to become a compassionate healthcare professional who contributes to advancing medical knowledge and improving patient care. Whether I focus on medicine, mental health, or healthcare policy, I hope to bridge gaps in care, reduce health disparities, and be a voice for those who are often unheard. Through my work, I aim to inspire other women to pursue careers in healthcare, believing that our unique perspectives and empathy can help shape a more inclusive and compassionate future in medicine.

Mental health has profoundly shaped my beliefs, relationships, and career aspirations in ways I never anticipated. Over the years, I’ve been directly impacted by my best friend Elizabeth's ongoing struggle with depression, bipolar disorder, and detachment. Since kindergarten, I have been by her side, watching her face the daily battles of mental health, particularly after being adopted from China at an early age. Her experiences have taught me about resilience, empathy, and the complexities of mental well-being, all of which have deeply influenced my path toward a career in medicine. Elizabeth’s journey with mental health has been a mix of highs and lows, and through it all, I have been there as a constant source of support. I’ve witnessed her challenges firsthand: from the emotional turmoil of her condition to the societal stigma that surrounds mental illness. Her vulnerability has taught me the importance of listening, understanding, and showing up without judgment, which has shaped my interactions with others. I’ve learned that sometimes the most significant support we can offer is simply being present and letting someone know they’re not alone in their struggles. As a result, my empathy and compassion have deepened, and I strive to offer that same support to others. At a young age, I had to learn that mental health struggles are not always visible, and people often suffer in silence. This realization has not only made me a more empathetic person but has also shaped my understanding of the world. I’ve come to recognize the importance of addressing mental health as a vital aspect of overall health and well-being. Our society tends to focus more on physical health, often overlooking the importance of mental health. Elizabeth’s challenges have pushed me to question this imbalance and consider how we can make a difference by addressing both mental and physical health issues in the medical field. This realization, combined with my desire to make a meaningful impact, inspired me to pursue a career in medicine. Growing up, I always had a fascination with the sciences, especially biology and chemistry. However, my experiences with Elizabeth’s mental health struggles gave me a deeper understanding of the human experience, including the profound effect that mental health can have on someone’s life. It solidified my aspiration to become a physician, where I could work on treating both physical and mental conditions. I am particularly drawn to psychiatry, where I can directly contribute to understanding and treating mental health conditions. My hope is that, through my medical career, I can reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness and make healthcare more accessible to those who need it most. Elizabeth’s battles have also influenced the way I approach my relationships. I’ve learned the importance of patience, kindness, and providing unconditional support. When someone is dealing with mental health challenges, it’s easy to feel helpless, but it’s crucial to remain supportive. I’ve made it a priority to check in with my friends, family, and community, to create a safe space for others to express their struggles without fear of judgment. This has also extended to my leadership roles, where I actively advocate for mental health awareness and support. In my role as president of Mock Trial, I have learned the importance of empathy when interacting with my peers. Whether I’m teaching new members, leading a team, or competing, I always make sure to create an open and supportive environment where everyone feels heard and valued. This approach extends beyond my academic pursuits; I bring it to all aspects of my life, whether volunteering with younger students through Mathletes or helping others through Key Club or National Honor Society. These experiences have reinforced my belief in the power of kindness and understanding, not just in leadership but in everyday interactions. Additionally, my experiences have driven me to be more engaged in addressing systemic issues, including the lack of resources and support for mental health in many communities. I hope to use my career in medicine not only to provide direct care but also to advocate for changes in how we address mental health, especially in underserved populations. In particular, I am passionate about helping bridge the gap in healthcare accessibility and pushing for better mental health resources and treatment options for individuals who may not have access to the care they need. Looking back, my experiences with mental health have shaped not only how I relate to others but also how I envision my future. I see a world in which mental health is prioritized alongside physical health, where individuals like Elizabeth receive the care and understanding they deserve. As I continue to pursue a career in medicine, I hope to be a part of the solution that fosters greater awareness, better resources, and more compassion in treating mental health. Mental health has taught me that, despite the struggles, resilience and support can lead to growth and healing, and I plan to carry that lesson forward into my future career, making a difference wherever I can.

The inspiration to pursue a career in the medical field has been a lifelong journey for me, deeply influenced by personal experiences and a desire to make a meaningful impact on people's lives. One of the most pivotal moments that inspired me occurred when my grandfather passed away from lung cancer. He was diagnosed in July and, after trying chemotherapy and radiotherapy, decided to stop the treatments two months later. The helplessness my family felt as we watched him deteriorate fueled my determination to pursue medicine. I want to be part of a system that offers hope, support, and, most importantly, answers for those struggling with such devastating diseases. Moreover, my other grandfather’s long battle with diabetes and its complications reinforced this drive. Witnessing his decline and the toll it took on his body and our family opened my eyes to the importance of medical care and the long-term implications of chronic illnesses. These experiences showed me how much a doctor’s expertise and compassion can shape not only a patient’s health but also their quality of life. From that point on, I knew that I wanted to dedicate my life to helping people through the very challenges my family faced. As a pre-med student, I plan to continue my education in the sciences, where I have always excelled, and build a foundation for understanding the complexities of biology and medicine. My goal is to pursue a career as a physician, with a focus on finding innovative ways to treat diseases like cancer and chronic illnesses such as diabetes. But I don’t just want to be a medical professional who treats symptoms. I want to be someone who contributes to research that improves the long-term outcomes of patients. My ambition is to work toward medical advancements and solutions that can save lives and ease the suffering of patients and their families. Additionally, through my experiences as a leader in various school clubs, such as Mock Trial and Technology Student Association, I’ve learned the importance of compassion, collaboration, and clear communication—qualities that are crucial for a successful career in medicine. I’m committed to using my skills to serve my community, whether it’s through volunteering or future outreach programs, ensuring everyone, regardless of their background, has access to quality care and the information they need to live healthy lives. My passion for science, particularly biology and chemistry, and my personal experiences have solidified my dedication to the medical field. It is my goal not only to provide direct patient care but also to work on the advancement of treatments and preventive measures to help those who are vulnerable to life-threatening conditions. By combining my commitment to research, patient advocacy, and healthcare improvement, I am determined to make a lasting difference in the medical field, ensuring better futures for individuals and communities alike.

My desire to pursue a career in medicine is deeply rooted in my personal experiences with loss and illness, particularly the deaths of my grandfathers. Witnessing the suffering of my family members and seeing how chronic diseases like diabetes and cancer affected not only their health but also their emotional well-being has shaped my understanding of medicine and my aspirations to make a difference in the world. My paternal grandfather’s battle with diabetes left a lasting impression on me. Over the years, I saw him struggle with the complications of the disease, which gradually took a toll on his health. I watched as his condition worsened, and the emotional strain on my family became increasingly difficult. This experience highlighted for me how devastating chronic diseases can be, not only physically but also emotionally. It made me realize the importance of understanding such diseases from both a medical and a human perspective, as well as the need for compassion. My maternal grandfather’s passing due to lung cancer was another pivotal moment in my life. His diagnosis came unexpectedly, and within two months, after undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, he decided to stop treatment. Watching my grandfather endure the pain and side effects of the treatments made me realize how fragile life is, and it brought home the importance of providing holistic care —one that goes beyond just curing a disease, but also addresses their psychological well-being. The emotional toll on my family during this period was immense, and it reinforced my desire to understand how medicine could help alleviate not only the physical symptoms of illness but also the mental struggles that often accompany it. These experiences with illness and loss have motivated me to pursue a medical degree. I want to learn about the diseases that claimed my grandfathers’ lives, like cancer and diabetes, and contribute to the research and treatments that could improve the quality of life for those battling these conditions. My goal is to be part of a healthcare system that not only treats disease but also supports patients emotionally and psychologically, especially those facing chronic or terminal illnesses. From watching my grandfathers' struggles, I’ve come to understand that medicine is more than just treating symptoms. It’s about being there for people during their most vulnerable moments, offering them compassion, and making sure they feel heard and cared for. I want to be a doctor who understands the complexities of diseases like cancer and diabetes, but also recognizes the importance of emotional support in patient care. I believe that a holistic approach to healthcare, one that addresses both the physical and emotional aspects of illness, can greatly improve a patient’s quality of life. As I continue my education, I plan to focus on learning more about the science behind chronic illnesses and how they affect the body. I am especially interested in how advancements in research and technology can improve treatments for diseases like cancer and diabetes. My long-term goal is to contribute to improving patient care, not only by advancing medical knowledge but ensuring that patients receive the emotional support they need during their treatment. These difficult experiences and their impact on my family have played a crucial role in shaping my desire to pursue a career in medicine. These experiences have shown me the importance of combining medical expertise with compassion and empathy to help those facing chronic and life-threatening diseases. Through my future career, I hope to make a positive impact on the lives of patients and contribute to improving the healthcare system by providing not only physical care but emotional support as well.

Mental health is something that has become increasingly important in my life, especially through my long-standing relationship with my best friend, Elizabeth. Our bond has been a source of strength, resilience, and understanding, and has deeply influenced the way I view the world and my own goals. Since kindergarten, I have been by Elizabeth's side as she has fought through severe depression, bipolar disorder, and detachment. Her struggles, compounded by her experiences as an adopted child from China, have shaped not only her journey but mine as well, prompting me to pursue a future where I can be part of the solution for mental health challenges that many, including those close to me, face. Elizabeth’s journey has been a long and painful one, and I have witnessed firsthand how mental health struggles can impact not only the individual but also those who care for them. From a young age, Elizabeth has had to navigate severe depression and the complexities of bipolar disorder, which often leaves her feeling isolated and misunderstood. Growing up, it was difficult to see someone so close to me experience such emotional turmoil, and it led me to reflect on how mental health is treated in society. Elizabeth’s experience with mental health challenges is deeply rooted in her early life. She was adopted from China at a young age, and while she has loving adoptive parents, the impact of her early experiences left scars that have shaped the way she views the world. Detachment, in particular, has been a significant hurdle for her—feeling disconnected from herself, her identity, and at times, the people around her. As her best friend, I’ve tried my best to support her through this emotional struggle, but I’ve also had to learn how to understand her needs, communicate effectively, and offer the patience and understanding that she so desperately needs. Being next to her through these challenges has significantly impacted my understanding of mental health and has shaped my academic and personal goals. One of the most crucial lessons I’ve learned is that mental health is not something that can be fixed in an instant or even over the course of a year. It is an ongoing process, requiring consistent support, care, and most importantly, empathy. As I’ve watched Elizabeth go through countless therapy sessions, medication adjustments, and difficult days, I’ve come to realize that while there are many solutions to mental health struggles, the most essential part is the understanding and love from the people around you. Mental health doesn’t exist in a vacuum; it involves everyone you interact with. This understanding has deepened my goal of pursuing a career in mental health advocacy and support. I’ve come to recognize that mental health awareness and the availability of resources are crucial for individuals facing these challenges. I want to be part of a future that normalizes mental health struggles, that provides accessible treatment, and that promotes open discussions without fear of stigma. I believe my experiences with Elizabeth will allow me to bring a personal and compassionate perspective to the field, understanding firsthand the importance of creating a supportive and non-judgmental environment for people experiencing mental health issues. My relationship with Elizabeth has also influenced the way I approach my relationships with others. Having been with her through her darkest times, I’ve learned to appreciate the importance of truly listening, of being patient, and of recognizing when someone needs a safe space to express their feelings. These are qualities I carry with me into every relationship, whether it’s with family, friends, or future professional connections. Mental health challenges, whether they’re severe like Elizabeth’s or less visible, are often misunderstood, and offering compassion is often the most helpful thing we can do for someone who is struggling. Elizabeth’s experiences have shaped how I view the world in a broader sense, as well. Mental health is often overlooked or dismissed, particularly in cultures where there is still a stigma surrounding it. I’ve become passionate about changing the narrative—raising awareness, educating others, and breaking down the barriers that prevent people from seeking help. My experience with Elizabeth has shown me how complex mental health struggles are, and how important it is to approach each person with a sense of empathy and understanding, recognizing that each individual’s story is different and that everyone needs different forms of support. Ultimately, Elizabeth’s journey has led me to define my own goals in a way that is focused on making a difference in the lives of others. I am inspired to pursue a career in psychology or mental health advocacy, hoping to help others navigate the challenges that mental health struggles present. Having experienced firsthand the difficulties of supporting someone through mental illness, I am committed to learning more about effective treatment options and advocating for systems that support individuals like Elizabeth, who deserve to be understood and cared for. In conclusion, my experience with Elizabeth has shaped my understanding of mental health in profound ways. It has influenced my career goals, relationships, and my desire to make the world a more compassionate place for those dealing with mental health issues. Through supporting Elizabeth and learning from her, I’ve come to understand that mental health is just as important as physical health, and that we must fight for a future where everyone has the support and resources they need to thrive. As I continue my journey, I hope to use the lessons I’ve learned to not only support those around me but to also contribute to a larger societal change.

I have never followed a traditional path to education. In many ways, my journey has been shaped by challenges, resilience, and an unwavering desire to lift others up. As a student who has faced numerous obstacles, I consider myself a non-traditional student. It wasn’t always clear to me where my path would lead, but my experiences have shaped my goals, my ambitions, and my desire to help others. Growing up, I had a strong passion for learning, but I often found myself navigating through difficult personal circumstances. My family faced financial challenges, and I learned early on the value of hard work and perseverance. I took on part-time jobs throughout high school to support myself and contribute to my family’s needs. These experiences weren’t easy, but they taught me the importance of grit and determination, values I carry with me every day. Working as a waitress in a small town in Spain during the summer was one of the most significant experiences of my life. It was there that I learned the true meaning of earning what you have and the importance of resilience in the face of adversity. That experience reshaped my understanding of work, of community, and of my own potential. Alongside my academic work, I found great fulfillment in mentoring others. When I was recommended by my gifted and talented teacher to become a mentor for younger students through the Mathletes program, it became one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. I was helping elementary school students with their math skills, and I quickly realized that my role wasn’t just about teaching numbers—it was about helping these kids believe in themselves. Many of them struggled with math not because they lacked the ability, but because they didn’t have the support they needed at home. I worked with these students to build their confidence, teaching them not only how to solve problems but also how to approach challenges with resilience. This experience shaped my perspective on success. It made me realize that success is not solely about personal achievement—it’s about uplifting others along the way. The value of community, of lifting others up, and of showing kindness and patience is something I carry with me every day. This is why I’m drawn to Andrea Worden’s philosophy of resilience, kindness, and the willingness to lift others up. Like Andrea, I believe that success is about more than just following a conventional path; it’s about pushing through adversity, helping those around you, and making a difference in the lives of others. A key moment that shaped who I am today was when I took the step to apply for college despite knowing the financial burden it would place on my family. I knew that the cost of education would be a challenge. My mother, a dedicated public school teacher, has always supported me in every way possible, but we didn’t have the resources to cover the full cost of attending a prestigious university. Despite these financial hurdles, I applied to Cornell University to study biochemistry, a field I’ve always been passionate about. I did not let financial challenges stop me from pursuing my dreams, and I have worked tirelessly to earn scholarships and financial aid. I know that this journey will not be easy, but I am determined to pursue my education and use my skills to make a meaningful impact in the world. Through it all, I’ve learned to embrace resilience, kindness, and compassion as fundamental parts of my journey. Whether it’s supporting my peers through difficult coursework, leading student organizations, or mentoring younger students, I have always strived to lift others up. I have learned that true success is not about achieving a goal for oneself, but about creating a positive ripple effect that reaches others. As I look forward to my future in biochemistry and beyond, I know that these values will continue to guide me. I want to use my education not only to improve my own life but also to make a difference in the lives of others. By pursuing a career in science and medicine, I hope to combine my love for learning with my desire to help people, whether through research, healthcare, or education. In conclusion, my path to education has not been traditional, but it has been shaped by resilience, kindness, and a deep commitment to helping others. Just as Andrea Worden believed, success is about facing challenges head-on and lifting others up along the way. The journey ahead will not be easy, but I am committed to persevering, to helping others, and to making a difference in the world. With the support of this scholarship, I will be one step closer to achieving my dreams and continuing my mission to empower and uplift those around me.

Achieving a college degree is not just about academic success to me—it represents a significant milestone in my life that will serve as the foundation for my future. As I pursue my goals, particularly in the fields of biochemistry and medicine, I aim to contribute to the greater good, using my education and skills to make a lasting impact. This scholarship would provide crucial support in helping me reach my academic and professional goals, enabling me to focus on my studies and professional development without the added burden of financial stress. In this essay, I will detail what I hope to accomplish after graduation, my career aspirations, and how receiving this scholarship will support me in achieving my dreams. My career aspiration is to become a Doctor, Innovating in Medical Research From a young age, I’ve been fascinated by science, particularly biology and chemistry. My passion for understanding the biological processes of life was nurtured through my academic journey, and over time, this evolved into a deeper desire to become a medical professional—specifically, a doctor. I’ve been drawn to medicine because of the profound impact it has on individuals' lives. I want to help people navigate their most vulnerable moments, alleviate suffering, and restore health, making a real difference in their lives. I envision a future where I can combine my knowledge of biochemistry and medicine to contribute to the advancement of healthcare, particularly in the realm of cancer research. My grandpa's passing from lung cancer 10 years ago had a profound impact on my family and me, motivating me to pursue a career in healthcare and medical research. Cancer is a devastating disease, and it remains one of the leading causes of death worldwide. While medical science has made tremendous progress in understanding and treating cancer, there is still so much left to discover. My ultimate goal is to become a doctor specializing in oncology or a related field, with the aim of both treating patients and contributing to the development of novel cancer therapies through medical research. In the future, I hope to work in a clinical setting, interacting with patients, diagnosing their conditions, and offering them treatment options. However, I also see research as a crucial part of my career. By pursuing medical research alongside clinical practice, I want to explore new therapeutic approaches that could one day lead to a cure for cancer. Research is what drives innovation, and I am passionate about using my education to push the boundaries of what is currently possible in the field of medical science. In the immediate future, my goal is to pursue a pre-med track in college, with a major in biochemistry, which will allow me to gain a deeper understanding of the chemical processes that govern living organisms. This foundational knowledge will be critical as I continue to pursue my medical degree and later work in oncology research. The skills I acquire during my undergraduate years will prepare me for medical school, where I plan to further hone my medical expertise and eventually specialize in cancer treatment and research. Aside from my coursework, I intend to engage in research opportunities, internships, and volunteer work to build my understanding of the medical field and healthcare system. My goal is to graduate with not only a comprehensive academic knowledge but also the hands-on experience that will make me a competitive candidate for medical school. While pursuing my degree, I plan to continue my involvement in extracurricular activities that align with my interests, such as research clubs, medical organizations, and volunteering with cancer patients. This will allow me to remain grounded in my mission to help those battling cancer while developing the skillset required for success in medical school. Pursuing a career in medicine is an ambitious and rewarding path, but it is also expensive. With the costs of tuition, medical school, and living expenses, it is a challenge to manage financial responsibilities while dedicating the necessary time and effort to my academic and professional goals. This scholarship will play an instrumental role in alleviating the financial strain I face, allowing me to focus on what truly matters—my education, my research, and my long-term career. The financial support from this scholarship would cover a significant portion of my college tuition, reducing the need for student loans and giving me the freedom to concentrate on my studies. Without the added pressure of worrying about how to finance my education, I would be able to devote more time to academic excellence and research opportunities. The time and mental space this scholarship would provide will allow me to engage more deeply in my coursework and research projects, which are both essential for my future goals in medical research and patient care. Additionally, the scholarship would provide me with the opportunity to gain practical experience in healthcare settings and contribute to my community through volunteer work. By participating in internships, clinical experiences, and volunteer programs, I can learn from professionals in the field, acquire valuable insights into patient care, and build connections that will help me in my future career. This hands-on experience will not only enhance my learning but also ensure that I am well-prepared for medical school and my eventual role as a doctor. The financial relief offered by this scholarship would also allow me to pursue my academic goals without distractions. As an International Baccalaureate candidate and a high-achieving student, I am already accustomed to maintaining a rigorous academic schedule. This scholarship would reduce the financial obstacles that stand in the way of my success and give me the support I need to maintain my high level of academic performance as I transition into college and medical school. Looking further ahead, I am committed to pursuing a medical career that not only serves individuals but also advances our understanding of disease and treatment. My goal is to attend medical school, where I will specialize in oncology and cancer research, with the hope of contributing to the development of innovative therapies that can save lives. Once I complete my medical education and training, I aim to practice medicine while simultaneously conducting research that seeks to uncover new treatments for cancer, with a focus on personalized medicine and immunotherapies. I see the integration of clinical practice and research as crucial in tackling the complexities of cancer treatment. I hope to work in a hospital or academic research facility, where I can have a direct impact on patients' lives while collaborating with other researchers to explore novel approaches to cancer care. Additionally, I want to mentor future generations of medical students and researchers, sharing my passion for oncology and helping others find their own paths in the medical field. Through all of this, my ultimate goal is to use my knowledge, skills, and experiences to better the lives of patients battling cancer and to contribute to the fight against this devastating disease. I am driven not only by the desire to heal but also by the desire to leave a lasting legacy in the field of medical research. Every step I take toward my career goal brings me closer to making a tangible difference in the world, and this scholarship will be an essential part of helping me reach that goal.

The Impact of Cancer on My Life and Goals By Sofia Millner Ten years ago, my family faced a devastating loss—my grandpa passed away from lung cancer. At the time, I was young, but the experience left a lasting imprint on my life, one that profoundly shaped both my personal perspective and my academic and professional goals. Watching my grandpa battle cancer was incredibly difficult, but it also brought to light the harsh reality that life is fragile, and cancer doesn’t discriminate—it can strike anyone at any time. This experience not only affected me but also deeply transformed my mom’s view on life and our priorities as a family. For my mom, my grandpa’s death became a wake-up call. She began to see life through a new lens—one that emphasized living fully and appreciating every moment. She always tells me, "You can't take life for granted." This idea became a guiding principle for our family. We learned that nothing is guaranteed, and we must make the most of every opportunity. It also instilled in us a sense of urgency, a realization that cancer could strike unexpectedly, and we must remain vigilant, resilient, and prepared to face challenges head-on. Beyond the personal impact, my grandpa’s death also sparked a deep desire in me to understand cancer more deeply and, one day, to contribute to the search for a cure. The pain of watching someone so close to me suffer made me feel a profound responsibility to help others who are battling this disease. I’ve always been fascinated by biology, and my experiences with cancer have intensified this interest, especially in the areas of biochemistry and medical research. I want to contribute to finding answers for this terrible disease and help alleviate the suffering it causes. My grandpa’s battle with cancer showed me firsthand the importance of scientific research and innovation. It made me realize that, while much progress has been made, there is still so much to learn about cancer and how we can better treat and prevent it. This realization fuels my determination to pursue a career in biochemistry, where I can gain the knowledge and skills needed to contribute to medical advancements. Throughout high school, I’ve channeled my passion for science into my academic work, and I have actively sought out opportunities to learn more about biology and chemistry. I’ve been involved in research projects, leadership roles in science clubs, and volunteer work where I’ve assisted in organizing events for cancer awareness. I also mentor younger students in math and science through Mathletes, hoping to inspire the next generation of thinkers who can continue the fight for better cancer treatments. Looking ahead, my goal is to pursue a career in biochemistry, with a focus on medical research. I hope to contribute to cancer research efforts, not just to understand the disease better, but also to provide hope for those who are fighting it. Through my studies, I aim to develop a deeper understanding of how cancer works at the molecular level, ultimately using that knowledge to make a tangible difference in the lives of others. My grandpa’s passing instilled in me a sense of purpose that I carry with me every day. It has shaped my academic pursuits and continues to fuel my determination to make a meaningful impact. I am committed to honoring his memory by continuing to fight for answers to the questions that cancer leaves behind, and by ensuring that others can benefit from the research and advancements we are making.

Why I Love Math By Sofia Millner Math has always been a source of fascination and joy for me. From a young age, I’ve had a deep appreciation for its logic, patterns, and problem-solving capabilities. My love for math was solidified when I joined the Math Olympiad, an experience that pushed me to think critically and creatively. Through this, I learned not just how to solve problems but also how to approach challenges with a strategic mindset. I’ve also had the opportunity to mentor elementary school kids through Mathletes, a program that my gifted and talented teacher recommended me for. Helping these young students discover the beauty of math has been incredibly rewarding and allowed me to deepen my own understanding of the subject. Math gives me a unique perspective on the world, offering me meaning and clarity. I often find myself interpreting the world through a mathematical lens, seeing the patterns and structures that shape everything around us. Whether it's understanding the efficiency of a process or simply appreciating the symmetry in nature, math allows me to connect dots that others might overlook. It’s not just about numbers—math is a tool that helps me make sense of the world. As I pursue my education in biochemistry, I plan to continue using my math skills to further my understanding of complex scientific concepts. Math plays a critical role in biochemistry, helping to model reactions and predict outcomes, and I’m excited to integrate these skills into my future research. Additionally, I hope to continue supporting my peers who may need assistance with math, just as I’ve done in the past. I also aim to help younger students and my younger sister who may struggle with math, giving them the tools and confidence to build their skills and find the same enjoyment and clarity that I’ve experienced through mathematics.

Success is not just about achieving a set goal—it is about the ongoing pursuit of something meaningful, something that fuels your passions and helps you grow as a person. For me, success means being able to continue pursuing my passion for education, specifically by obtaining the best education possible. Ever since I can remember, I've been captivated by the intricacies of science, especially biochemistry, and I have dreamed of studying it at the highest level. That dream has now been realized with my acceptance to Cornell University, one of the premier institutions for higher education. But while this is an incredible opportunity, the financial burden of attending such a prestigious school is far greater than I can afford. Success, for me, is defined by the opportunity to learn and grow in an environment that challenges me intellectually and provides me with the resources to explore my passion. I have always been dedicated to my studies, and I see education not only as a way to better myself but also as a means to contribute to the world around me. By studying biochemistry, I aim to explore the molecular mechanisms of life, ultimately hoping to contribute to advancements in medicine, disease treatment, or environmental sustainability. Being able to study at Cornell would bring me one step closer to my aspirations, offering an unparalleled environment to develop my skills and deepen my knowledge. However, the reality of financing such an education is overwhelming. My mother is a dedicated public school teacher, and while she has worked tirelessly to support our family, her income alone is not sufficient to cover the substantial cost of tuition, room, board, and other associated expenses. We have always prioritized education in our household, and my mother has done everything she can to provide for me and ensure that I have the opportunities I need to succeed. But even with her unwavering support, the financial gap is significant, and without the necessary resources, my dream of attending Cornell might not become a reality. This is where this opportunity to receive financial assistance comes in. It offers me the chance to bridge the gap between my dream and my reality. The financial aid will allow me to attend the university without the constant worry of accumulating insurmountable debt or feeling the pressure of limited resources. It will give me the freedom to focus on what matters most—my education—without the constant burden of financial stress. Being able to attend Cornell would provide me with the intellectual environment I need to grow, collaborate with like-minded peers, and engage in research that could shape the future of biochemistry. Moreover, the opportunity to learn from some of the best professors and scientists in the field is invaluable, and it is a chance I do not take lightly. In addition to the academic advantages, Cornell offers a community of diverse individuals, each with their own experiences and perspectives. This environment will not only enhance my education but also help me develop as a well-rounded individual, ready to contribute to society in a meaningful way. Success, for me, is about more than just earning a degree—it is about becoming a well-informed and compassionate individual who can use the knowledge gained to make a positive impact on the world. By attending Cornell, I will be part of a legacy of scholars and professionals who are equipped to address some of the world's most pressing challenges. However, this opportunity is not just about financial aid; it is about the belief in the potential of students like me, students who are passionate, hardworking, and driven to succeed. The financial assistance will help me reach my full potential and keep my dream alive without the financial barriers that might otherwise stand in my way. It will give me the tools I need to achieve success in a field I am deeply passionate about. Success, ultimately, means having the resources to pursue my passion fully and without distraction, and this opportunity will allow me to do just that. In conclusion, success, to me, is the ability to continue pursuing my passion for learning and to receive the best education possible. The opportunity to attend Cornell University and study biochemistry would allow me to take a crucial step toward achieving my long-term goals. However, without the financial assistance, this dream would remain just that—a dream. With the help of this support, I will be able to focus on my studies and contribute to the scientific community in meaningful ways. I am confident that, with this opportunity, I will be able to achieve the success I have always dreamed of and make a positive impact on the world.