To me, collaboration means understanding that something can become much more meaningful when people bring their different ideas, strengths, and experiences together. I have always loved creating art on my own, but some of my most rewarding experiences have come from creating alongside other people. Those experiences have taught me that collaboration is not about one person having the best idea. It is about listening, encouraging each other, and finding a way for everyone's ideas to have a place. As an artist, I have learned that everyone approaches creativity differently. One person may be better at coming up with an idea, another may have a different technical skill, and someone else may see a solution that nobody else considered. Working with other artists has taught me to be open to those differences rather than trying to do everything myself. I have also learned that sometimes the best part of a project is the relationship that develops while you are working toward the same goal. My experiences working with younger children through 4-H have made me think about collaboration in a different way. When I help younger members, I am not simply teaching them how to complete a project. I am listening to their ideas and helping them find their own way to succeed. Seeing a child become proud of something they created reminds me that sometimes the most important thing I can do is encourage someone and give them the confidence to keep going. That is one of the reasons I am drawn to art therapy. I plan to become an art therapist and work with children in a pediatric environment. I believe collaboration will be an important part of that career. An art therapist does not work alone. They may collaborate with children and their families, doctors, nurses, teachers, psychologists, and other professionals to understand what a child needs. I want to be someone who listens to all of those perspectives while also making sure the child's voice is heard. My own experience as a student with ADHD and dyslexia has also shaped how I think about collaboration. I know that people do not all learn, communicate, or solve problems in the same way. Because of that, I want to create an environment where children feel comfortable bringing their own ideas and know that their differences are valuable. Now, as a second-year Studio Art major at Hanover College, I am continuing to learn how much I can accomplish when I am willing to learn from others. I currently have a 3.5 GPA and am on track to complete all of my Studio Art requirements within my first two years. While I am proud of my individual accomplishments, I know that many of the things I have learned along the way came from professors, classmates, teammates, mentors, and the people I have worked with in my community. To me, collaboration is ultimately about connection. Whether I am creating art with another student, helping a child through 4-H, working with my community as Miss Clark County, or someday helping a child use art to work through a difficult experience, I want to create alongside people rather than simply work for them. The relationships built through that process are what make the finished work meaningful.

ommunity service has become an important part of who I am. Throughout high school and now in college, I have looked for ways to serve others, especially children and families. My experiences volunteering have shown me that building a strong community is not always about doing something big. Sometimes it is about showing up, listening, encouraging someone, and making them feel like they are not alone. During high school, I volunteered with organizations including the Ronald McDonald House, the Salvation Army, and other local community organizations. At the Ronald McDonald House, I saw how much small acts of kindness can mean to families going through difficult circumstances. My experiences with the Salvation Army and local organizations also taught me that every community has people who need support, and that everyone has something they can contribute. Working with children through 4-H has been especially meaningful to me. I enjoy encouraging younger members, helping them learn new things, and watching their confidence grow. Those experiences have helped shape what I want to do with my future. I have realized that I want my career to combine two things I care deeply about: art and helping people. I am currently a second-year Studio Art major at Hanover College with a 3.5 GPA. I have worked hard to develop my skills and am on track to become the first underclassman to complete all of the Studio Art requirements within my first two years. Art has always been a way for me to express myself, particularly because I have ADHD and dyslexia and sometimes find it easier to communicate through creativity than through words. That personal experience is one reason I became interested in art therapy. My goal is to become an art therapist and work in a pediatric environment, helping children who are dealing with illness, trauma, disabilities, learning differences, anxiety, or other difficult experiences. I want to create a place where children can feel safe, understood, and free to express themselves. I know from my own experience how powerful it can be when someone creates an environment where you can be yourself instead of feeling like you have to fit a certain mold. Becoming Miss Clark County has given me another opportunity to bring these interests together. I see the title as a responsibility to serve, not simply an honor. Through my role, I can continue working with 4-H and young people, participate in community events, and encourage others to become involved. I want to use my platform to remind young people that their voices matter and that they have the ability to make a difference too. I believe my future career will allow me to continue serving my community in a very personal way. Art therapy can provide children with a way to communicate feelings they may not know how to express. By combining my passion for art with my desire to work with children, I hope to help young people build confidence, cope with difficult experiences, and recognize their own strengths. To me, community means taking care of one another. Whether I am volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House, helping through the Salvation Army, working with a 4-H member, serving as Miss Clark County, or someday sitting beside a child creating art in a hospital, I want to make people feel supported. I hope my life and career will allow me to keep giving back in ways that make my community a kinder, more connected place.

Art has always been more than something I enjoy. It has been a way for me to express myself, work through my emotions, and understand things that I sometimes cannot put into words. I have always been drawn to painting, sculpting, and creating things with my hands. I love starting with an idea and watching it become something real. Over time, I realized that what I love most about art is not just what I create, but how creating makes me feel. As someone with ADHD and dyslexia, school has not always been easy for me. There were times when I felt frustrated because the way I learned did not always fit into a traditional classroom. Art was different. I could think creatively, make mistakes, change my ideas, and find my own way to solve a problem. There was not always one right answer. Art gave me a place where thinking differently felt like a strength instead of something I needed to overcome. That experience is what first led me toward art therapy. I began to wonder how something that had helped me express myself and build confidence could also help someone else. I became especially interested in the idea that art can give people a way to communicate when they cannot find the words to explain how they feel. I am now in my second year at Hanover College as a Studio Art major, and my interest in art therapy has continued to grow. I currently have a 3.5 GPA and am on track to become the first underclassman to complete all of the Studio Art requirements within the first two years of college. I am proud of this accomplishment because it reflects how seriously I take my education and how much I have challenged myself to grow as an artist. My goal is to continue my education in both art and psychology and eventually become an art therapist. I am especially interested in working with children and young people who may be dealing with trauma, disabilities, learning differences, anxiety, or difficult experiences. I know what it feels like when the way you think or learn does not always fit what is expected of you. I want to create an environment where children feel accepted, understood, and comfortable being themselves. One of the things I love about art therapy is that you do not always have to know what to say. Sometimes a drawing, painting, sculpture, or even simply working with clay can help someone express something they are not ready to say out loud. I want to help people discover that their feelings matter and that they have different ways to express them. I do not believe art can fix everything, but I believe it can provide a safe place to begin healing. Art has helped me find my own voice, and I hope to help others find theirs. My goal is to use the skills I am developing as an artist, along with what I learn about psychology, to help people build confidence, process difficult experiences, and recognize their own strengths. For me, art is not just about creating something. It is about connection, expression, and discovering something about yourself along the way. I want to take what art has given me and use it to help others feel understood, supported, and hopeful.

Empathy begins with understanding, and understanding often begins in the spaces where words fall short. My unique talents and skills are rooted in how I see and process the world differently, and I plan to use those differences to help build a more compassionate and connected community. As a student at Hanover College, studying art and design with a focus on ceramics, I have discovered that creativity can be a powerful bridge between people. Art allows individuals to express emotions, experiences, and perspectives that are often difficult to communicate through language alone. This is especially meaningful to me because of my own experiences with dyslexia. Growing up, I learned to navigate a world where words did not always come easily, and I often relied on other forms of expression to communicate what I was thinking and feeling. Rather than viewing that as a limitation, I have come to see it as a strength. It has shaped how I listen, how I observe, and how I connect with others. I have learned to pay attention beyond what is being said, to recognize emotion, and to approach people with patience and understanding. These are the skills that I believe are essential in building a more empathetic world. My goal is to become an art therapist, working with children who face emotional, developmental, or communication challenges. Through ceramics and other forms of creative expression, I want to create spaces where individuals feel safe to explore their thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. Clay, in particular, offers a unique experience. It is hands on, flexible, and forgiving. It allows individuals to create, reshape, and transform, which can be incredibly empowering for someone who may feel stuck or unheard. In a global community that is often divided by differences in language, culture, and experience, I believe art can serve as a universal connection point. It does not require translation, and it invites participation from anyone, regardless of background. By incorporating art into therapeutic and educational environments, I hope to foster greater understanding and compassion among diverse groups of people. Being a first generation college student has also shaped my perspective and strengthened my ambition. Pursuing higher education without a family history to guide me has required resilience, independence, and determination. It has also deepened my appreciation for opportunity and the responsibility that comes with it. I am motivated not only to succeed for myself, but to create pathways and support for others who may feel uncertain or underrepresented in academic spaces. Beyond my future career, I plan to continue engaging in community service and outreach efforts that bring people together. Whether through volunteer work, mentorship, or collaborative art programs, I want to create environments where individuals feel seen, valued, and understood. Building an empathetic global community starts with small, intentional actions, and I am committed to being part of that work. My talents may not always look traditional, but they are rooted in connection, creativity, and compassion. By using art as a tool for expression and understanding, I hope to help others find their voice and, in turn, create a world that listens more closely and cares more deeply.

Faith is not just a part of my life, it is the foundation that shapes how I think, how I act, and how I pursue my goals. It has given me direction in moments of uncertainty and has grounded me in something greater than myself. In both my academic journey and my future aspirations, my faith continues to guide my purpose and remind me why I am working toward something meaningful. My relationship with God has taught me the importance of perseverance, even when things feel difficult or unclear. There have been moments in my education where I have struggled, especially navigating school with dyslexia and ADHD. Tasks that come naturally to others have required more time, patience, and effort from me. In those moments, my faith has been a constant source of reassurance. Verses like Philippians 4:13, which reminds me that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, have helped me push forward when it would have been easier to give up. Faith has shifted my mindset from focusing on limitations to recognizing purpose in the process. Academically, my faith has encouraged me to approach my education with intention. I am currently a student at Hanover College, studying art and design with a focus on ceramics. My goal is to become an art therapist, working with children who face emotional, developmental, or communication challenges. I believe this calling is directly tied to my faith. I feel led to serve others in a way that is compassionate, creative, and meaningful. Art provides a way for children to express what they cannot always put into words, and I want to use my education to create spaces where they feel seen, heard, and supported. Faith has also influenced how I serve in my daily life. Through involvement in church, children’s ministry, and organizations like Delight Ministries on campus, I have learned the importance of showing up for others with kindness and humility. These experiences have reinforced my desire to pursue a career that is centered around helping people grow and heal. My faith reminds me that my goals are not just about personal success, but about using what I have been given to serve others in a meaningful way. In addition to my faith, my family has played a significant role in pushing me to pursue higher education. They have always encouraged me to work hard, stay focused, and continue striving for more, even when challenges arise. Their support has been a constant source of motivation, reminding me that I am capable of achieving more than I sometimes believe. I am also driven by my own experiences. Growing up with learning differences taught me resilience and gave me a deeper understanding of what it feels like to struggle. That perspective has fueled my desire to create change for others. Ultimately, faith has given my education purpose. It has helped me see that my journey is not random, but intentional. Every challenge, every lesson, and every opportunity has shaped who I am becoming. As I continue pursuing my degree and working toward my future career, I do so with the belief that I am being guided toward something greater than myself. Insta: @Sofiep.art Insta: @Whitesp_112806

A life of service, to me, is not defined by one moment or one title. It is shaped by small, consistent choices to show up for others with compassion, intention, and faith. My involvement in church, community, and campus organizations has helped me understand that service is not about recognition, but about creating meaningful impact in the lives of others. I am reminded in Galatians 5:13 that we are called to serve one another humbly in love, and that is the standard I strive to live by each day. Faith has always been a foundation in my life. As an active member of my church, I have had the opportunity to serve in children’s ministries, where I help create a welcoming and supportive environment for younger kids. Working with children has taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of meeting people where they are. It is not always about having the right words, but about being present and showing kindness in a way that makes others feel valued. I often reflect on Matthew 19:14, where Jesus reminds us of the importance of caring for children. My faith has also grown through experiences like attending the Passion Conference and preparing to serve as a volunteer at Passion Camp in Daytona Beach in 2026. These opportunities have strengthened my sense of purpose and reminded me that service is both local and far reaching. Colossians 3:23 encourages me to work with my whole heart, and I carry that mindset into every opportunity to serve. At Hanover College, I continue to live out that commitment through my involvement in Delight Ministries and a weekly women’s Bible study within my Phi Mu sorority. These spaces have allowed me to build meaningful relationships rooted in encouragement and support. I have also participated in volunteer efforts through organizations such as Children’s Miracle Network and the Salvation Army, where I have been able to contribute to causes that directly impact families in need. Through these experiences, I have seen firsthand that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Service, for me, is not separate from my education. It is woven into it. As I pursue my degree in art and design with a focus on ceramics, I am preparing for a future as an art therapist. My goal is to work with children who face emotional or communication challenges, using creative expression as a way to help them process their experiences. I believe art can reach people in ways that words cannot, and I want to create spaces where children feel safe, understood, and empowered. My experiences have shaped how I approach this goal. They have taught me to lead with compassion, to be patient, and to recognize that every individual’s journey is different. I strive to embody a life of service by staying grounded in my faith and committed to using my gifts to uplift others. My hope is that through my education and future career, I can continue that mission by helping children discover their own strength and confidence, while living out the call in Micah 6:8 to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.

I have always been a fan of Taylor Swift. I have seen her live twice, and I have followed her career closely as she has grown and changed over the years. What has always stood out to me is not just her talent, but the way she tells a story and connects with people through her music. The performance that has always felt the most moving to me is her performance of “All Too Well” during the The Eras Tour. There is something about the way she performs that song that feels incredibly real and personal, even in a stadium full of thousands of people. It is not just a performance, it feels like she is reliving a moment and inviting everyone to feel it with her. What makes it so powerful is how intentional everything is. The pacing, the emotion in her voice, and even the quiet moments where the crowd is completely still all come together in a way that makes you feel like you are part of something bigger. You can tell that the song has evolved with her, and the way she performs it now carries both the original emotion and the growth she has experienced since writing it. Seeing her live reinforced that for me. There is a level of presence and authenticity that is hard to describe until you experience it. Even in a massive venue, she has a way of making each person feel connected to the moment. That ability to balance vulnerability with confidence is something I really admire. She has been an inspiration to me not just because of her success, but because of how she has navigated her career. She has continued to evolve, take risks, and stay true to her voice, even when it would have been easier not to. Watching that over time has shown me the importance of growth, resilience, and owning your story. That performance of “All Too Well” stands out because it captures all of that. It is emotional, intentional, and deeply human, and it reminds me why I have followed her career for so long.

As a freshman, I organized a Love Island reunion watch party on my second day on campus. I worked with Student Affairs to turn it into an official campus event and bring people together over something I genuinely love. One of the reasons Love Island is so entertaining is because it goes beyond just romance. It really shows how people connect, communicate, and sometimes struggle to be honest with themselves and each other. As a fan, I am most drawn to the moments where relationships are tested and people are pushed out of their comfort zones. With that in mind, I would create a challenge called The Compatibility Carousel. The idea is to test what actually makes two people compatible, not just who looks good together. Instead of staying in their current couples, Islanders would rotate through different stations with new partners, giving them a chance to explore connections they might not have considered. The first station would focus on chemistry. Islanders would go through simple but telling prompts like sharing their first impression or holding eye contact. It sounds easy, but those moments can say a lot. Their heart rates would also be tracked and revealed later, which would definitely create some surprises and drama. The second station would be about honesty. Islanders would answer direct questions about attraction, intentions, and who else in the villa has caught their attention. These are conversations that usually happen quietly, so bringing them into the open would force people to be real. If someone avoids a question, their partner would answer for them, which could be even more revealing. The third station would shift to real life situations. Islanders would be given quick scenarios about life outside the villa, like long distance or balancing work and relationships. They would have to agree on how they would handle it, showing whether they are actually aligned or just getting along in the moment. The final station would focus on perception. Islanders would guess how the public might view their relationship, whether they seem genuine, one sided, or likely to last. Those answers would later be revealed, giving everyone a chance to reflect on how they are coming across. At the end of the challenge, the most compatible individuals would get to choose any partner in the villa, even if it breaks up existing couples. The least compatible pairs would be split, leaving them vulnerable going into the next recoupling. This would raise the stakes and force people to rethink their connections. As a fan, I think this challenge would bring out everything that makes Love Island so addictive. It would create fun moments, but also push Islanders to be honest, take risks, and really think about what they want. That balance is what makes the show so engaging and what keeps people coming back to watch.

In the spaces where words fall short, I have learned to find direction in something else entirely. My education has not been a straight path defined by ease or perfection. Instead, it has been shaped by learning how to navigate a mind that works differently and discovering how that difference can become purpose. I am currently a sophomore at Hanover College, studying art and design with a focus on ceramics. My goal is to become an art therapist, working with children who face trauma, neurodivergence, and emotional barriers. This direction did not come from a single moment of clarity, but from years of learning how to understand myself first. Growing up with dyslexia and ADHD meant that traditional education often felt like trying to keep up in a race where I could not quite see the track. Reading and writing were not automatic for me. Words moved, letters reversed, and spelling rarely followed the rules I was taught. I learned to write phonetically, trusting what I heard more than what I saw. At times, it made me feel behind, especially in environments where success was measured by speed and accuracy. For a long time, I thought my challenges defined my limitations. But education, when approached with the right support and mindset, became something different. It became a tool that helped me understand how I learn, rather than forcing me into how others learn. I began to recognize that my perspective was not a weakness, but a different way of processing the world. That realization changed everything. Instead of trying to hide my differences, I began to embrace them. I made them visible in ways that felt authentic to me. My high school license plate read SOF13, a version of my name with a backwards e. My senior parking spot included the phrase Be The Light, with a backwards g intentionally painted into the design. These small choices were more than just personal expression. They were moments of ownership. They represented a shift from feeling defined by my challenges to defining them on my own terms. At the same time, I found my connection to art. In ceramics, I discovered a form of expression that did not rely on perfect spelling or structured sentences. Clay responds to touch, to pressure, to movement. It allows for mistakes, and more importantly, it allows for transformation. That process mirrored my own experience. What once felt broken or out of place could be reshaped into something meaningful. This is where my education began to give me direction. Through my studies, I have come to understand the power of creative expression in ways that extend far beyond the studio. Art is not just about making something beautiful. It is about creating space for people to process what they cannot always say. For children who struggle to communicate, whether due to trauma, learning differences, or emotional challenges, that space can be life changing. My goal is to use my education to create environments where those children feel seen and understood. I want to bring ceramics into schools, hospitals, and community programs, particularly in spaces where resources are limited and traditional support systems may fall short. I want to help children experience the same realization I had, that their differences are not barriers, but starting points. The challenges I have faced have given me a deeper sense of empathy and patience. I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, to feel behind, or to question your own abilities. Because of that, I approach my goals with a strong sense of purpose. I am not simply pursuing a career. I am building something that reflects both where I have been and where I am going. Education has given me more than knowledge. It has given me clarity. It has helped me understand how to turn personal challenges into meaningful work. It has shown me that growth is not about eliminating difficulty, but about learning how to move through it with resilience and intention. As I continue my education, I carry that understanding with me. I am committed to using what I learn to create a better future, one where children who think and experience the world differently are supported in ways that truly meet their needs. I want to help them build confidence, find their voice, and recognize their ability to shape their own lives. Who I am becoming matters just as much as where I am going. And because of my education, I now know that both are rooted in purpose.

Most people have that one thing that makes others pause and tilt their head a little. Mine usually shows up when I write something down and someone reads it twice, then looks at me like they just solved a puzzle. I have dyslexia, which means my brain likes to take the scenic route with words. I spell phonetically, letters flip themselves around, and sometimes entire words come out looking like they walked in backwards. For a long time, that felt like something to hide or apologize for. It is hard to feel confident when something as simple as writing your own name can turn into a small moment of doubt. At some point, though, I realized something. My brain was not wrong. It was just different. And honestly, it was kind of interesting. So instead of fighting it, I leaned into it. My license plate in high school was SOF13, which looks normal until you realize it is actually my name with a backwards e. It made perfect sense to me, even if it took everyone else a second to catch up. For my senior parking spot, I painted the phrase Be The Light, but of course I included a backwards g. Not because I could not fix it, but because I chose not to. It felt more like me that way. What used to be the thing that made me stand out in an uncomfortable way slowly became the thing that made people remember me. Friends would laugh with me, not at me. Teachers started to see the effort behind the work instead of just the mistakes on the page. And I started to see it too. Writing this way has also shaped how I think. I pay attention differently. I listen more carefully. I look for meaning beyond perfect spelling or structure. It has made me more creative, more patient, and more understanding of people who do not fit neatly into expectations. So yes, my words might come out a little twisted sometimes. Letters might switch places or show up backwards like they are playing their own game. But that is part of my story, not something I am trying to erase. If anything, it has become my signature. And if you ever see a backwards letter in something I have written, there is a good chance it is not a mistake. It is just me, showing up exactly as I am.

In the spaces where words fall short, art speaks. That is where I plan to make my mark. As I enter my sophomore year at Hanover College, I have found my focus in sculpture and ceramics, specifically pottery, because it is one of the most accessible and honest forms of expression. Clay does not require perfect language, academic strength, or even confidence to begin. It only requires participation. That is what makes it so powerful, especially for children who struggle to be heard in traditional ways. It meets people exactly where they are, without expectation or judgment, and allows growth to happen naturally from that starting point. My goal is to become an art therapist working with children who face trauma, neurodivergence, or emotional barriers. In these environments, communication is often the greatest challenge. Many children are asked to explain what they feel before they even understand it themselves, which can lead to frustration, withdrawal, or misinterpretation. Through pottery, I want to give them another option. I want to create a space where expression comes first and understanding follows, rather than the other way around. Clay creates a direct connection between thought and action. A child can press, shape, break, and rebuild, externalizing emotions without needing to name them. There is freedom in that process. There is also safety in it. Mistakes are not permanent in clay. They can be reworked, reshaped, and transformed. That lesson alone can be powerful for a child who feels stuck or overwhelmed. More importantly, they can see that they are capable of creating something, controlling something, and transforming something. That experience builds confidence in a way that words alone cannot, and it gives them a sense of ownership over their own progress. My work will focus on creating structured, intentional spaces where children can use ceramics as a tool for both expression and growth. Whether in schools, hospitals, or community programs, I want to integrate pottery into environments where it is rarely available but deeply needed. I also want to design programs that are approachable for all skill levels, removing the intimidation that can sometimes come with art. In addition to hands on work, I aim to advocate for the inclusion of art based therapy in educational systems, particularly for students who do not thrive in traditional academic models. While my own experiences with ADHD and dyslexia shaped how I found art, they are not the focus of my work. They are simply what led me here. They taught me that intelligence and expression are not one dimensional, and that success looks different for everyone. What matters is what I do with that perspective. I understand what it feels like to think differently, and I intend to use that understanding to create environments where differences are not barriers, but starting points for growth, creativity, and confidence. The pieces I create today are practice, not just for technique, but for impact. Every form I shape is a step toward understanding how to guide others through that same process. My goal is not only to make art, but to use it as a tool that helps others build confidence, process their experiences, and recognize their own ability to shape their future. Because sometimes the most important thing we can give someone is not the right words, but another way to be understood.

In the spaces where words fall short, art speaks. That is where I plan to make my mark. As I enter my sophomore year at Hanover College, I have found my focus in sculpture & ceramics; specifically pottery because it is one of the most accessible and honest forms of expression. Clay does not require perfect language, academic strength, or even confidence to begin. It only requires participation. That is what makes it so powerful, especially for children who struggle to be heard in traditional ways. My goal is to become an art therapist working with children who face trauma, neurodivergence, or emotional barriers. In these environments, communication is often the greatest challenge. Many children are asked to explain what they feel before they even understand it themselves. Through pottery, I want to give them another option. Clay creates a direct connection between thought and action. A child can press, shape, break, and rebuild; externalizing emotions without needing to name them. More importantly, they can see that they are capable of creating something, controlling something, and transforming something. That experience builds confidence in a way that words alone cannot. My work will focus on creating structured, intentional spaces where children can use ceramics as a tool for both expression and growth. Whether in schools, hospitals, or community programs, I want to integrate pottery into environments where it is rarely available but deeply needed. I also aim to advocate for the inclusion of art-based therapy in educational systems, particularly for students who do not thrive in traditional academic models. While my own experiences with ADHD and dyslexia shaped how I found art, they are not the focus of my work. They are simply what led me here. What matters is what I do with that perspective. I understand what it feels like to think differently, and I intend to use that understanding to create environments where differences are not barriers, but starting points. The pieces I create today are practice, not just for technique, but for impact. My goal is not only to make art, but to use it as a tool that helps others build confidence, process their experiences, and recognize their own ability to shape their future. Because sometimes the most important thing we can give someone is not the right words- but another way to be understood.

I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in Art and Psychology, and a dedicated member of the women’s golf team. Sports have always been an integral part of my life, teaching me perseverance, discipline, and teamwork. They have also shaped how I interact with others, revealing the power of encouragement, mentorship, and community. Through my experiences as an athlete and as a youth coach, I have learned that sports can be more than physical competition—they can be a platform to teach life skills, build confidence, and inspire growth. Growing up, I was fortunate to have mentors who challenged me to push beyond my comfort zone. I was often one of only two golfers on my high school team, and while we could not compete as a team, I learned to rely on my own focus, resilience, and determination. There were setbacks, like missing an individual qualifier by a single stroke, but also moments of triumph, such as representing my school at regionals under harsh conditions with bitter cold and strong wind. Experiences like these taught me that setbacks do not define success, and that the lessons learned through sports can be applied to every area of life. Alongside my own athletic experiences, I have been deeply involved in coaching youth sports in my community. I have coached both basketball and softball for children of all ages, helping them develop not only technical skills but also teamwork, resilience, and self-confidence. These experiences have been incredibly rewarding, as I have seen firsthand how sports can positively impact a child’s growth, providing a sense of belonging and accomplishment. Coaching has also taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of creating an environment where young athletes feel supported to try new things, make mistakes, and celebrate both personal and team successes. My goal is to continue leveraging youth sports to create meaningful opportunities for children to grow, especially those who may face challenges similar to ones I have experienced. Through mentorship, I hope to show young athletes that determination, preparation, and a positive mindset can help them overcome obstacles both on and off the field. I am particularly passionate about empowering young girls to see themselves as capable athletes and leaders, fostering confidence and self-belief in an environment that celebrates effort as much as achievement. By combining my experiences as a student-athlete, coach, and active member of my community, I hope to build programs that not only teach sports skills but also emphasize character development, resilience, and teamwork. I want children to see sports as a safe space to explore their potential, learn how to collaborate, and develop the confidence to tackle challenges in all areas of their lives. Sports have given me so much—lessons in discipline, perseverance, and leadership—and I am committed to giving back by helping the next generation of athletes experience the same growth and joy. Through coaching, mentorship, and active engagement in youth programs, I hope to make a lasting, positive impact on my community and inspire children to believe in their own abilities, both on the field and beyond.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of paint, clay, glitter, and glue wherever I went. What appeared messy on the surface was how I explored ideas and made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I turned instinctively to creating as a way to express what I could not yet articulate in words. Art gave me focus, calm, and confidence when traditional learning felt challenging. That curiosity was first expanded in elementary school by my teacher, Miss Kim Cope, who introduced me to STEM Club. She encouraged hands-on experimentation and challenged us to think beyond single solutions. STEM Club became one of my favorite parts of school, and I loved how it blended creativity with logic. My favorite projects were Rube Goldberg–style creations, where one small action triggered a chain of reactions. Designing these complex systems pushed me to problem-solve, test ideas, adapt when something failed, and think creatively within constraints. Those early experiences sparked my love for experimentation and taught me that creativity and science are not separate—they strengthen one another. As I grew older, art became both my passion and my refuge. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I developed my technical skills while continuing to explore emotion and meaning through my work. In high school, I was consistently recognized as a top art student and often volunteered to lead design and décor projects for school events. Under the mentorship of my high school art teacher, Miss Cope, I learned how to refine my craft and approach art with intention and discipline. She reinforced what I had learned years earlier—that the best creative work is rooted in curiosity, critical thinking, and perseverance. I now carry that interdisciplinary mindset as a sophomore at Hanover College, where I am pursuing a double major in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. In the studio, I focus on ceramics and three-dimensional design, using form and material to explore emotional expression. In the classroom, I study developmental psychology, behavioral science, and evidence-based approaches to mental health—fields grounded in scientific research and data-driven understanding of human behavior. My work has been featured in a campus gallery, affirming the value of combining creative practice with academic rigor. My career goal is to become a pediatric art therapist, a profession that integrates artistic expression with psychological theory and clinical methodology. Just as STEM Club once challenged me to think in new ways, I hope to help children experiment with creative expression as a tool for emotional regulation, problem-solving, and healing. By grounding my work in research-supported practices while honoring creativity, I aim to provide care that is both compassionate and effective. Receiving this scholarship would support my continued pursuit of an interdisciplinary education that bridges the arts with STEM-adjacent behavioral science. With this support, I will continue building a career that unites creativity, research, and service—helping children find their voices through both imagination and understanding.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of glitter, clay, and glue wherever I went. What looked like mess to others was how I made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I instinctively turned to art to express what I struggled to put into words. Creating became a place where my thoughts slowed, my anxiety softened, and my voice finally felt heard. That early connection to art grew into purpose. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I learned that art is more than self-expression—it is connection. In high school, I consistently ranked among the top art students and volunteered to design décor and collaborative installations for school events, discovering how creative work can bring people together. My art teacher, Miss Cope, played a pivotal role in helping me refine my skills and believe in my potential. She showed me that art can be intentional, meaningful, and powerful—capable of holding emotion, telling stories, and creating change. Today, I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. My work in ceramics and three-dimensional design has been featured in a campus gallery, and my studies continue to explore how form, texture, and space can communicate emotions that words cannot. Outside the classroom, I compete as a collegiate golfer, participate in Christian campus organizations, and engage in volunteer work that reinforces my commitment to service and leadership. Balancing academics, athletics, and campus involvement has strengthened my discipline, resilience, and time management—skills I carry into every aspect of my education. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. I want to work with children who, like me, may struggle to express themselves verbally or feel misunderstood in traditional settings. I know firsthand how transformative creative expression can be in processing anxiety, trauma, and neurodivergence. Through art therapy, I hope to offer children a safe space to explore emotions, build confidence, and discover their own voices. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial demands of my education, but also affirm the value of interdisciplinary learning that bridges creativity and mental health. It would allow me to continue investing fully in my academic and professional development—pursuing internships in behavioral health settings, expanding my artistic practice, and preparing for graduate study in art therapy. I am committed to using my education in service of others. Art taught me how to persevere when learning felt difficult, how to find beauty in vulnerability, and how to transform challenge into purpose. With your support, I will continue that work—helping children find their voices through creativity, compassion, and care.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of glitter, clay, and glue wherever I went. What looked like mess to others was how I made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I instinctively turned to art to express what I struggled to put into words. Creating became a place where my thoughts slowed, my anxiety softened, and my voice finally felt heard. That early connection to art grew into purpose. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I learned that art is more than self-expression—it is connection. In high school, I consistently ranked among the top art students and volunteered to design décor and collaborative installations for school events, discovering how creative work can bring people together. My art teacher, Miss Cope, played a pivotal role in helping me refine my skills and believe in my potential. She showed me that art can be intentional, meaningful, and powerful—capable of holding emotion, telling stories, and creating change. Today, I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. My work in ceramics and three-dimensional design has been featured in a campus gallery, and my studies continue to explore how form, texture, and space can communicate emotions that words cannot. Outside the classroom, I compete as a collegiate golfer, participate in Christian campus organizations, and engage in volunteer work that reinforces my commitment to service and leadership. Balancing academics, athletics, and campus involvement has strengthened my discipline, resilience, and time management—skills I carry into every aspect of my education. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. I want to work with children who, like me, may struggle to express themselves verbally or feel misunderstood in traditional settings. I know firsthand how transformative creative expression can be in processing anxiety, trauma, and neurodivergence. Through art therapy, I hope to offer children a safe space to explore emotions, build confidence, and discover their own voices. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial demands of my education, but also affirm the value of interdisciplinary learning that bridges creativity and mental health. It would allow me to continue investing fully in my academic and professional development—pursuing internships in behavioral health settings, expanding my artistic practice, and preparing for graduate study in art therapy. I am committed to using my education in service of others. Art taught me how to persevere when learning felt difficult, how to find beauty in vulnerability, and how to transform challenge into purpose. With your support, I will continue that work—helping children find their voices through creativity, compassion, and care.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of glitter, clay, and glue wherever I went. What looked like mess to others was how I made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I instinctively turned to art to express what I struggled to put into words. Creating became a place where my thoughts slowed, my anxiety softened, and my voice finally felt heard. That early connection to art grew into purpose. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I learned that art is more than self-expression—it is connection. In high school, I consistently ranked among the top art students and volunteered to design décor and collaborative installations for school events, discovering how creative work can bring people together. My art teacher, Miss Cope, played a pivotal role in helping me refine my skills and believe in my potential. She showed me that art can be intentional, meaningful, and powerful—capable of holding emotion, telling stories, and creating change. Today, I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. My work in ceramics and three-dimensional design has been featured in a campus gallery, and my studies continue to explore how form, texture, and space can communicate emotions that words cannot. Outside the classroom, I compete as a collegiate golfer, participate in Christian campus organizations, and engage in volunteer work that reinforces my commitment to service and leadership. Balancing academics, athletics, and campus involvement has strengthened my discipline, resilience, and time management—skills I carry into every aspect of my education. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. I want to work with children who, like me, may struggle to express themselves verbally or feel misunderstood in traditional settings. I know firsthand how transformative creative expression can be in processing anxiety, trauma, and neurodivergence. Through art therapy, I hope to offer children a safe space to explore emotions, build confidence, and discover their own voices. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial demands of my education, but also affirm the value of interdisciplinary learning that bridges creativity and mental health. It would allow me to continue investing fully in my academic and professional development—pursuing internships in behavioral health settings, expanding my artistic practice, and preparing for graduate study in art therapy. I am committed to using my education in service of others. Art taught me how to persevere when learning felt difficult, how to find beauty in vulnerability, and how to transform challenge into purpose. With your support, I will continue that work—helping children find their voices through creativity, compassion, and care.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of glitter, clay, and glue wherever I went. What looked like mess to others was how I made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I instinctively turned to art to express what I struggled to put into words. Creating became a place where my thoughts slowed, my anxiety softened, and my voice finally felt heard. That early connection to art grew into purpose. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I learned that art is more than self-expression—it is connection. In high school, I consistently ranked among the top art students and volunteered to design décor and collaborative installations for school events, discovering how creative work can bring people together. My art teacher, Miss Cope, played a pivotal role in helping me refine my skills and believe in my potential. She showed me that art can be intentional, meaningful, and powerful—capable of holding emotion, telling stories, and creating change. Today, I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. My work in ceramics and three-dimensional design has been featured in a campus gallery, and my studies continue to explore how form, texture, and space can communicate emotions that words cannot. Outside the classroom, I compete as a collegiate golfer, participate in Christian campus organizations, and engage in volunteer work that reinforces my commitment to service and leadership. Balancing academics, athletics, and campus involvement has strengthened my discipline, resilience, and time management—skills I carry into every aspect of my education. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. I want to work with children who, like me, may struggle to express themselves verbally or feel misunderstood in traditional settings. I know firsthand how transformative creative expression can be in processing anxiety, trauma, and neurodivergence. Through art therapy, I hope to offer children a safe space to explore emotions, build confidence, and discover their own voices. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial demands of my education, but also affirm the value of interdisciplinary learning that bridges creativity and mental health. It would allow me to continue investing fully in my academic and professional development—pursuing internships in behavioral health settings, expanding my artistic practice, and preparing for graduate study in art therapy. I am committed to using my education in service of others. Art taught me how to persevere when learning felt difficult, how to find beauty in vulnerability, and how to transform challenge into purpose. With your support, I will continue that work—helping children find their voices through creativity, compassion, and care.

Some children speak in sentences. I spoke in colors, textures, and form. From the time I could hold a paintbrush, art has been my first language. As a child, I was known for leaving trails of glitter, clay, and glue wherever I went. What looked like mess to others was how I made sense of the world. Long before I understood my diagnoses of ADHD and dyslexia, I instinctively turned to art to express what I struggled to put into words. Creating became a place where my thoughts slowed, my anxiety softened, and my voice finally felt heard. That early connection to art grew into purpose. Through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework, I learned that art is more than self-expression—it is connection. In high school, I consistently ranked among the top art students and volunteered to design décor and collaborative installations for school events, discovering how creative work can bring people together. My art teacher, Miss Cope, played a pivotal role in helping me refine my skills and believe in my potential. She showed me that art can be intentional, meaningful, and powerful—capable of holding emotion, telling stories, and creating change. Today, I am a sophomore at Hanover College, double majoring in art and psychology with a 3.3 GPA. My work in ceramics and three-dimensional design has been featured in a campus gallery, and my studies continue to explore how form, texture, and space can communicate emotions that words cannot. Outside the classroom, I compete as a collegiate golfer, participate in Christian campus organizations, and engage in volunteer work that reinforces my commitment to service and leadership. Balancing academics, athletics, and campus involvement has strengthened my discipline, resilience, and time management—skills I carry into every aspect of my education. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. I want to work with children who, like me, may struggle to express themselves verbally or feel misunderstood in traditional settings. I know firsthand how transformative creative expression can be in processing anxiety, trauma, and neurodivergence. Through art therapy, I hope to offer children a safe space to explore emotions, build confidence, and discover their own voices. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial demands of my education, but also affirm the value of interdisciplinary learning that bridges creativity and mental health. It would allow me to continue investing fully in my academic and professional development—pursuing internships in behavioral health settings, expanding my artistic practice, and preparing for graduate study in art therapy. I am committed to using my education in service of others. Art taught me how to persevere when learning felt difficult, how to find beauty in vulnerability, and how to transform challenge into purpose. With your support, I will continue that work—helping children find their voices through creativity, compassion, and care.

I enjoy playing golf because it challenges me in ways few other sports do—both mentally and emotionally. Golf requires patience, self-discipline, resilience, and honesty. Every round is a conversation with yourself, and success depends as much on mental strength as physical skill. For me, golf has always been a place where I can focus, reset, and push myself to improve, even when conditions are far from perfect. As a female golfer, one of the greatest challenges I have faced is learning to compete without always having the support or visibility that larger teams experience. My senior year of high school exemplified this challenge. That season, my teammate Selby and I were the only two golfers on our team. Because we did not have enough players to field a full lineup, we were unable to compete as a team and could only participate as individuals. While this was discouraging at times, it also forced me to rely on my own motivation and mental toughness. I learned how to compete without the structure and energy of a full team, and how to find confidence within myself. Despite the circumstances, I had one of the strongest seasons of my career, finishing as a top-three medalist in nearly every competition that year. When sectional tournament time arrived, I felt prepared and hopeful. However, I missed qualifying for regionals by just one stroke. Watching my teammate advance while knowing how close I had come was devastating. It felt like all the work and consistency I had shown throughout the season ended in a moment that didn’t go my way. A week later, I received a call from my coach that changed everything. One of the qualifying individuals was unable to compete, and I was invited to take her place at regionals. The opportunity meant more than just another tournament—it was a second chance to finish my senior season on my own terms and represent my school with pride. Regionals tested me in new ways. The weather was bitterly cold, the wind was relentless, and the course was one I had never seen or played before. My score was not what I had hoped for, but the experience itself was deeply meaningful. Competing under those conditions required adaptability, perseverance, and mental strength, and closing out my high school career in that moment was incredibly satisfying. That experience reaffirmed my love for the game and my desire to continue competing. I went on to play golf at the collegiate level at Hanover College, where I am now in my second season as an undergraduate student-athlete. Golf has taught me resilience, humility, and confidence—lessons that extend far beyond the course. As a female golfer, overcoming obstacles has only strengthened my passion for the sport and my commitment to continue growing, both as a player and as a person.

Art has been a constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember. Growing up, I was always described as a “messy” child; the kind who gravitated toward paint, clay, glitter, scraps of fabric, and glue rather than toys that stayed neat and contained. From an early age, art gave me freedom. It allowed me to explore, create, and express emotions long before I had the words to explain them. As I grew older, art became more than just play; it became a language. I was diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, and I often struggled to communicate my thoughts and feelings in traditional academic settings. Art became the place where those challenges no longer defined me. Through working with my hand; especially in three-dimensional forms like clay; I could express what I could not articulate verbally. Creating helped me manage anxiety, process difficult experiences, and build confidence in my abilities. Art gave me a sense of control and clarity when other parts of life felt overwhelming. Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I was fortunate to be supported by both my parents and my teachers, who encouraged my creativity and never discouraged my “messy” way of learning. However, it was my high school art teacher, Miss Cope, who truly shaped my path. She challenged me to refine my skills, think critically about my work, and push beyond what felt comfortable. Under her mentorship, I learned that art is not only about aesthetics, but also about intention, emotion, and meaning. She helped me see art as something powerful; something that could connect, heal, and communicate on a deeper level. I pursued formal arts education through private lessons, summer art camps, and advanced coursework throughout high school, where I consistently ranked among the top art students. I also volunteered frequently, taking the lead on design and décor for school events and collaborative projects. These experiences reinforced my belief that art thrives in community and service, not just individual expression. Now, as a sophomore art major at Hanover College with a double major in psychology, I continue to build on that foundation. My work has been featured in a campus gallery, and I am currently focusing on ceramics and three-dimensional design, using a variety of materials to explore emotional expression. Beyond the studio, I remain actively involved on campus; playing on the women’s golf team, participating in Christian organizations, volunteering, and preparing for future internships in behavioral health settings. My ultimate goal is to become a pediatric art therapist. Arts education has shown me firsthand how creative expression can support emotional healing, especially for those who struggle to communicate through words alone. I hope to provide children with the same outlet that art provided me, a safe space to express, heal, and discover their own strengths. Art has not only shaped my education, but my identity and purpose. It is the lens through which I understand the world, and the way I hope to make a difference in it.

Golf captured my imagination at a young age. I remember reading a childhood storybook called The ABCs of Golf, and feeling enchanted by the idea of combining focus, skill, and patience in a game that was both challenging and elegant. A trip to the Ryder Cup later deepened that fascination—watching professionals play with precision, strategy, and calm under pressure inspired me to take the game seriously. Beyond the competition, I fell in love with the peace of golf—the quiet focus, the rhythm of walking the course, and the way the game rewards patience and persistence. I didn’t start out as a natural golfer. Before picking up a club, I played softball for years, and the mechanics of a golf swing were completely different. Changing my swing was one of the first big challenges I faced. Retraining my muscle memory, slowing down my rhythm, and developing precision over power took countless hours of practice and repeated frustration. That process taught me patience and perseverance—lessons that have carried me through every challenge, both on and off the course. Competing in high school golf gave me my first real taste of pressure and teamwork. I learned to balance competition with sportsmanship and confidence with composure. Being a female golfer in a male-dominated space sometimes made me feel like I had to prove I belonged. Those moments motivated me even more—every solid drive and every successful putt became evidence that dedication and focus speak louder than assumptions. Now that I’m competing at the collegiate level, golf has become even more meaningful. The game challenges me to stay calm under pressure, adapt when conditions change, and continually learn. It’s both an individual and communal sport—you play your own game, but you grow by observing, learning from, and supporting others. That collaborative energy continues to inspire me, especially as I work to refine my skills and push my limits. As a female golfer, I’ve learned that the strongest swings don’t come from strength alone—they come from mindset. Golf has given me resilience, discipline, and pride. I play because I love the game, because it challenges me to grow, and because it motivates me to show other young women that patience, persistence, and confidence can transform both a game and a person. Beyond personal growth, golf has taught me valuable life lessons I carry into every part of my life: patience, resilience, and the importance of staying calm under pressure. I hope to inspire others, especially young female athletes, to embrace challenges and find confidence in their abilities, both on the course and off.

I’ve spent my life proving that I can swing harder, lead louder, and show up stronger—not in spite of being a girl, but because of it. From the first time I stepped onto a softball diamond at age five, I knew I wasn’t just playing a game- I was stepping into a challenge. Whether I was catching fastballs, driving the lane in basketball, or walking the fairway with a golf club in hand, I learned quickly that sports weren’t always built with girls in mind. That didn’t intimidate me. It motivated me. Being a multi-sport athlete; varsity softball, basketball, and golf, while also juggling school, leadership roles, and community service has taught me how to operate in high-pressure environments where you often have to speak up to be heard. In sports, especially in a world where male athletes often dominate headlines, I’ve learned to show up prepared, stay composed, and lead without apology. Golf in particular has challenged me to rely on inner strength. It’s just you, your mind, and the course. After three years on the varsity team, regional competition, and earning Most Improved twice, I committed to play college golf at Hanover College, proving that consistency and perseverance matter just as much as power. When a back injury sidelined my junior softball season and forced me to walk away from the game I grew up with, I had to redefine what strength looked like. Giving up my senior season wasn’t quitting, it was a mature decision to prioritize my health and long-term goals. That’s something I’m proud of, and I’ve come to realize that sometimes strength means letting go. Off the field, I’ve poured my energy into leadership and service. As Miss BHS, I helped lead spirit events, plan homecoming and prom, and boost school pride. As a member of Student Council and the Class of 2025 Leadership team, I’ve worked to make my school a better, more inclusive place. Through my role as Social Media Chair for Fellowship of Christian Athletes, I’ve combined my creativity and faith to promote events that bring people together. And in the community; whether serving meals at the Ronald McDonald House, building homes with Habitat for Humanity, or coaching youth basketball I’ve learned that leadership means showing up, even when no one’s watching. These experiences haven’t just made me a better student or athlete. They’ve made me a stronger young woman in a world where women still have to fight for equal recognition in the classroom, on the court, and beyond. I’ve learned to trust my voice, value my instincts, and embrace every part of who I am competitive, compassionate, determined, and female. I’m no longer just trying to “keep up” in male-dominated spaces. I’m showing that I belong there, and helping others see that they do, too.

Furthering my education is one of the most important goals in my life, not only because it opens doors to my future, but because it allows me to honor those whose lives and dreams were taken too soon. Education is a way for me to persevere and grow, and it enables me to help others do the same. I aspire to become an art therapist, using my creative passions to assist those who have faced trauma and loss, much like the loss my family and I experienced when our close friend, Lizzie Bennett, was tragically killed in an act of domestic violence. While I was not personally involved in the trauma, I witnessed firsthand the pain that Lizzie’s family and friends endured. Lizzie was a close friend to my parents, a local coach, and a beloved mother to one of my close friends. She was part of the fabric of our community, and her sudden death left a profound hole in the lives of those who knew her. Watching my friend struggle to cope with the grief of losing her mother, I saw how deeply crime can affect not only the victim, but also those around them. The emotional toll of witnessing my friend try to heal made me realize the far-reaching impact of violence and loss. Art has always been my refuge. Whether I am painting, drawing, or working with mixed media, creating things provides me with a way to express emotions that are hard to articulate with words. It is through art that I process difficult experiences and find peace. I want to help others who are dealing with trauma to find that same sense of relief and expression, especially children who may not yet have the tools to process their emotions. Pursuing my education in art therapy will allow me to combine my love for creativity with my desire to help others heal. I want to provide a safe space for individuals to express their feelings and work through their trauma in a constructive way. Art has always been a personal tool for coping with life’s challenges, and I want to share that healing power with others, especially those affected by violence or loss. The loss of Lizzie has deepened my commitment to furthering my education and to using art as a means of support for those in need. Just as Lizzie’s death impacted everyone around her, I know that education has the potential to create lasting change. With this scholarship, I hope to continue my studies in art therapy and, in doing so, honor the memory of those like Lizzie—people whose lives were stolen too soon but whose legacies continue to inspire compassion, resilience, and a desire to help others heal.

The most meaningful community event I’ve ever participated in was a Habitat for Humanity home build in southern Indiana. I joined the project excited to volunteer, but unsure of the impact I could truly have. What began as just a day of service turned into one of the most eye-opening and inspiring experiences of my life. Throughout the day, I helped with everything from hammering nails to painting trim. But what struck me most was meeting the woman whose family would be moving into the home we were building. She visited the site with her children and spoke to each volunteer with genuine gratitude. She shared how long her family had been waiting for a safe place to call their own. Her words—and the look on her face—stayed with me long after the tools were put away. That single moment reminded me that community service is more than just checking a box. It’s about building something real and lasting—both physically and emotionally. Seeing how our efforts directly impacted a family made me realize that even as a teenager, I could be part of something that changes lives. It inspired me to look at my role in the community differently—not as a bystander, but as someone with the power and responsibility to create positive change. This experience also deepened my passion for becoming an art therapist, specifically working with children who’ve experienced trauma or hardship. I’ve always been drawn to creative expression and its healing power. Helping build that house showed me another way that healing can begin—through stability, through safety, and through a sense of belonging. I started imagining ways to bring these ideas together: what if communities combined housing projects with art? What if we invited kids to paint murals on new homes or helped families design gardens together, using creativity as a tool to feel more connected to their space? In the future, I’d love to see more youth involved in service projects—not just to meet requirements, but to truly connect with their neighbors. I believe that events like the Habitat build can be catalysts for deeper empathy, stronger relationships, and a sense of pride in where we live. These are the kinds of changes I want to see—communities where people don’t just live next to each other, but live with each other. Participating in that build taught me that ambition and drive are important, but it’s impact that lasts. I’m committed to using all three to honor the spirit of service and bring healing into the lives of others—one creative project, one home, and one heart at a time.

For me, art isn’t just a passion—it’s survival. As a child with dyslexia and ADHD, I often felt like I was on the outside looking in. While others thrived in traditional classrooms, I struggled with reading, focus, and frustration. I internalized those struggles, believing I was “less than” until one person—a school interventionist named Lida Gardner—helped me see that my brain wasn’t broken; it was just wired differently. That moment of support was powerful, but what saved me was art. Art gave me a voice before I had the words. It was the only place where I could be messy, misunderstood, and still make something beautiful. Whether I was sculpting, painting, designing costumes, or decorating spaces for school events, creating helped me process emotions I didn’t yet know how to name—confusion, anxiety, isolation, but also joy, hope, and belonging. Through every mental health challenge—burnout, pressure, self-doubt—art has been my anchor. It gave me control when everything else felt chaotic. It helped me channel energy that would otherwise overwhelm me. My sketchbook is my therapy. My brush is my journal. The act of creating gives me room to breathe and makes me feel whole. That’s why I plan to become an art therapist. I want to give others what art gave me: a lifeline, a safe space, and a mirror to see themselves more clearly. I know what it feels like to not fit in, to question your worth, to hide your differences. And I know the healing that can happen when someone hands you a paintbrush and says, “Show me what you feel.” Selin Alexandra’s story resonates deeply with me. Her belief in the power of emotional expression through art is the very reason I’ve survived and grown into the artist I am today. I carry that same vision forward: to create art that makes people feel seen, supported, and inspired. This scholarship would not just support my education—it would validate the very journey that brought me here. With it, I will continue my studies at Hanover College, double majoring in Art and Psychology, with the long-term goal of helping children heal through creative expression. I believe in the power of art to unlock hope, and I will spend my life giving that hope to others. Because sometimes, healing doesn’t start with words. It starts with a brushstroke. Ive submitted a few examples of my creative work along with an explanation of how these creations express my passions. Thank you so much for your consideration.

Golf doesn’t just build confidence—it demands it. Every time I step onto the course, it’s a battle between who I was and who I’m becoming. In golf, you can’t blame the team, the weather, or the clock. It’s just you, your mindset, and your next shot. That’s where I’ve learned the most important lesson of my life: I am responsible for my own destiny. My name is Sofie White, and I am a senior at Borden High School, a four-year varsity golfer, and a first-generation college student. I’ve earned the opportunity to continue playing golf at Hanover College this fall—an honor I worked hard for. Hanover offered me a place on their women’s golf team, which solidified my decision to attend a private college that, without scholarships, would be financially out of reach for my family. This scholarship could be the final swing that gets me to the green. Growing up, I faced challenges most people couldn’t see. I was diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, which made school feel like a daily uphill climb. But golf taught me patience, composure, and resilience. It taught me how to breathe through frustration, focus under pressure, and stay calm after a bad round. Most of all, it taught me that progress is never instant—but always possible. There were moments I could have quit. I suffered a back injury during my junior year softball season that took me out of the game completely. While I was sidelined in one sport, I turned all my focus to golf—and something clicked. The solitude of the game gave me peace. The strategy gave me purpose. And the growth gave me pride. Golf became my therapy, my motivator, and my space to push forward, one stroke at a time. Golf also helped me find my voice as a leader. I’ve mentored younger teammates, supported community initiatives, and coached youth sports with the same values Tom LoCasale lived by—kindness, perseverance, and self-improvement. Like Tom, I believe in the power of the game to shape character and change lives. In college, I plan to double major in Art and Psychology with the goal of becoming an art therapist. I want to help children who feel like they don’t fit in—kids who learn differently, hurt quietly, or don’t yet believe in their own potential. The same way golf gave me confidence, I want to give others tools to grow through creativity and support. I will carry every lesson golf taught me into that future: stay calm, stay focused, and trust your swing—even when no one else sees the pin. I’m ready for the next round of my life, and with your support, I’ll continue honoring the values Tom LoCasale stood for—on and off the course.

“I don’t just want to make a living—I want to make a difference.” That’s the mindset that guides my life and fuels my passion to create change through creativity, compassion, and service. My name is Sofie White, and I’m a senior at Borden High School with plans to attend Hanover College in the fall to double major in Art and Psychology. My dream is to become an art therapist—combining my passion for creativity with my calling to help others, especially children who have experienced trauma or face emotional or developmental challenges. Throughout high school, I’ve immersed myself in extracurricular activities and community service. I’m a multisport athlete in golf and softball, served as a leader with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and participated in student council and art club. I’ve also volunteered with organizations like Habitat for Humanity, the Salvation Army, and the Lions Club. I’ve coached youth basketball, created wellness spaces for community events, and helped lead drives for clothing and food. I believe that giving back isn’t just a task—it’s a privilege. My commitment to helping others is deeply personal. I was diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD early in my education, which made learning feel like climbing a mountain with no map. I often felt different and discouraged, especially when traditional methods didn’t work for me. But instead of letting that define me, I found strength through art. Art became my way of processing the world—my therapy, my confidence booster, and my tool for expression. Everything changed for me when an interventionist at my elementary school, Mrs. Lisa Gardner, stepped into my life. She recognized that I learned differently—and more importantly, that I was capable. With her support, I learned how to advocate for myself, develop study strategies that matched how my brain worked, and most importantly, believe in my potential. Without her intervention, I would not be on the academic and personal path I am today. That’s why this scholarship, in memory of Valerie Rabb, means so much to me. I know firsthand how a dedicated interventionist can change the trajectory of a student’s life. Mrs. Rabb’s legacy as a champion for students is not only inspiring—it mirrors the experience I had with Mrs. Gardner. And it’s why I’ve committed myself to a future where I can offer that same kind of hope and support to others. In my future career, I plan to open a nonprofit that provides free or low-cost art therapy services for children facing adversity. I want to offer workshops, private sessions, and school outreach programs that give kids a safe space to explore their emotions, build confidence, and heal through creativity. Art helped me find my voice, and now I want to help others do the same. Though I’ve faced academic struggles, injury setbacks, and the emotional toll of feeling “different,” I’ve never let those challenges stop me. Instead, I’ve used them as stepping stones to build a life of meaning. I’m ambitious, determined, and full of drive—not just to succeed for myself, but to uplift others along the way. Valerie Rabb dedicated her life to uplifting students like me, and it would be an honor to carry her spirit forward by continuing to serve and inspire the next generation—just as she did.

"If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together." This African proverb speaks to the heart of why I’ve always believed in the power of community and collective effort. My name is Sofie White, and I’m a high school senior at Borden High School with a passion for art, service, and making a difference. I’m an athlete, a student leader, and a community advocate who believes in the power of creativity and compassion to change lives. Through volunteering, athletics, and personal challenges, I’ve developed a deep desire to help others—especially young people facing adversity. In school, I’ve thrived in advanced art courses and discovered that creative expression is not just a talent—it’s my therapy. Living with dyslexia and ADHD, I’ve found focus and peace through painting, sculpting, and designing. Art is where I find clarity and confidence. It’s also where I find purpose. That purpose extends into my other commitments as well. I’ve been a multi-sport athlete in golf and softball and am proud to be continuing my golf career at the collegiate level. Athletics has taught me grit, teamwork, and resilience—qualities I bring into every part of my life. Beyond academics and sports, community service has shaped my heart. I’ve volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, where I helped build a home and met the woman who would live in it—a moment that changed my perspective on giving. I’ve coached youth basketball, led wellness events, and served with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. I also volunteer with the Salvation Army, offering whatever is needed—whether food, clothes, or just kindness. Helping others fuels my ambition to create long-term impact. If I had the opportunity to start my own charity, it would be focused on art therapy for children experiencing trauma, disability, or social difficulties. My mission would be to provide a safe, creative space where children could use art to express themselves and heal. I know firsthand how powerful it is when art becomes a voice for feelings too big for words. Volunteers would lead workshops, mentor youth, and offer one-on-one art sessions. We’d partner with schools, shelters, and community organizations to reach children who might not otherwise have access to creative tools or support. From drawing and painting to sculpture and mixed media, we’d help kids find joy, confidence, and self-worth in their art. Most importantly, we’d give them a space where they know they belong. My dream is to build a world where no child feels invisible. Where creativity becomes a bridge to connection, healing, and hope. After high school, I plan to attend Hanover College to double major in Art and Psychology, with the goal of becoming an art therapist. I want to help others grow and heal through creativity—just as I’ve experienced in my own life. I’m committed to combining my passions for art and service into a lifelong mission of impact, guided by the same values Aserina Hill lived by: sacrifice, compassion, and belief in the dreams of others.

"Where others see a blank canvas, I see a conversation waiting to happen." Art has never been just a hobby for me—it’s the language I speak when words fail, the safe space I return to when life feels overwhelming, and the bridge I use to connect with others. My name is Sofie White, and I’m a high school senior who fell in love with messy hands, wild imagination, and turning emotion into expression. My medium? A beautiful, chaotic mix of sculpting, painting, costume design, and most recently, storytelling through visual arts. What drew me to art wasn't its neatness or structure—quite the opposite. Growing up with ADHD meant my mind often moved faster than my surroundings could handle. In traditional classrooms, I struggled to sit still or focus on rigid expectations. But the moment I stepped into an art room, everything clicked. I wasn’t too loud, too scattered, or too “different.” I was just enough. Art gave me a place to thrive—not because I had to change who I was, but because I finally found a space where I could be who I was, fully and unapologetically. Art enhanced my life by teaching me to trust my instincts, to value the process, and to embrace imperfection as part of the masterpiece. Each piece I create tells a story—whether it’s a sculpture molded from emotion or a painting inspired by someone else’s journey. I’ve used my talents to design banners for school events, create themed installations for spirit weeks, and even build prom decorations from scratch. I was named “Miss BHS” because of the creativity I brought to every space I entered, and I wear that title with pride—not for the recognition, but because it proves that art has the power to shape culture, lift spirits, and bring people together. But I don’t just want to create for myself—I want to use my creativity to help others. That’s why I plan to major in studio art and pursue a career in art therapy, specializing in helping children with trauma, disabilities, or emotional challenges. I believe that, like Christal Carter, artists have the power to innovate and heal. Her groundbreaking work in quilting didn’t just revolutionize a craft—it told stories in a new, powerful way. I hope to carry that same spirit of innovation forward, using visual art as a therapeutic tool to bring healing and connection to those who need it most. There’s something sacred about turning emotion into something tangible—about helping someone see themselves in a brushstroke or feel less alone through a shared piece of art. That’s the gift I want to give to the world. Art is my mission, my medicine, and my message. I’ve learned that ambition isn’t just about achieving something big—it’s about pouring your whole heart into something meaningful. My drive comes from a desire to leave this world a little more vibrant, a little more compassionate, and a little more inspired than I found it. Like Christal, I want my legacy to be one of impact, storytelling, and creative courage. Art fills my life. Now, I want to use it to help others rediscover theirs. I've included a few images of my costume design for the 2025 school year as well as some sketches for your consideration.

They told me I was too scattered, too messy, too much. Art told me I was just enough. My name is Sofie White, and I’m an artist who sees the world in color, texture, and feeling. While some students thrive in structured classrooms and fill in the right bubbles, I found my rhythm in brushstrokes, clay, and unconventional ideas that refused to stay inside the lines. I’m a girl who was once told she couldn’t keep up—but when I found art, I discovered that I was never behind. I was just on my own creative path. Growing up with dyslexia and ADHD meant constantly being redirected, corrected, and misunderstood. But the art room? That was my sanctuary. It didn’t ask me to sit still—it welcomed movement. It didn’t demand perfection—it celebrated exploration. Through sculpture, painting, and costume design, I found focus, confidence, and belonging. I wasn’t a misfit—I was a maker. Every smudge of paint and crooked clay figure became proof that I could turn chaos into beauty. Art gave me more than confidence—it gave me clarity. And now, I’m turning that passion into purpose. I plan to study studio art at Hanover College and eventually become an art therapist, working with children who face trauma, disabilities, or emotional challenges. I want to create spaces where kids feel safe to express themselves, to process, to be seen. I want to give them the tools that helped save me—creativity, connection, and a place where they can be fully and beautifully themselves. This dream is rooted in real experiences. After suffering a concussion in volleyball and a back injury that benched me from softball for an entire season, I turned more deeply to my creative work. When I was diagnosed with mono and missed weeks of school, I once again leaned into art as a steadying force. Life has thrown challenges my way, but art has been my constant—a reminder that beauty can come from broken pieces. Each setback only made me more determined to use my creativity as a way to lift others and find healing. Outside of art, I’m deeply committed to service and leadership. I’ve volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, the Lions Club of Southern Indiana, and Northside Christian Church. I coach youth basketball, organize school events, and hold leadership roles like social media chair for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Creativity is just one part of my impact—I believe in showing up, giving back, and leaving every place a little brighter than I found it. My art is fueled by the people around me, and I use it to make meaningful change. Like Kim Beneschott, I see art as an act of healing. Her story resonates deeply with me—not just because of her talent, but because of her resilience and heart. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of college, but allow me to carry forward a legacy of using creativity to inspire, uplift, and heal. Because when the world says you’re too much, art says you’re a masterpiece in progress.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words—but for me, art has always spoken the words I couldn’t find. Fine art and studio art are more than creative outlets; they are the foundation of how I understand myself and communicate with the world. They give me a voice, a purpose, and a path forward. From the moment I first picked up a paintbrush or shaped something out of clay, I felt at home. Studio art, with its hands-on, immersive process, gives me a sense of freedom that I’ve rarely experienced elsewhere. As a student with dyslexia, and ADHD traditional academics often left me feeling overwhelmed or misplaced. But in the studio, my unconventional thinking isn’t a hurdle—it’s a strength. I thrive in the mess, the movement, and the exploration that fine art demands. It’s where I feel most capable, most creative, and most connected to who I truly am. Art makes me feel empowered. The act of creating—whether it’s sculpting, painting, or designing—is like unlocking a part of my soul. Each project becomes a way to explore my emotions, reflect on my experiences, and share pieces of my story. I don’t just make art to be seen—I make art to be felt. The process centers me, grounds me, and reminds me of my own resilience. But more than that, art gives me purpose. I plan to study studio art at Hanover College so I can become an art therapist and help children facing trauma, disabilities, or emotional challenges. I’ve personally experienced how healing and expressive art can be, especially when words fail. I want to use that understanding to create safe, supportive spaces where young people can explore their own creativity, find confidence, and process their emotions through artistic expression. Being an artist means embracing vulnerability, channeling passion, and building bridges between people. Fine art isn’t just decoration—it’s connection. It tells stories that matter and brings beauty and understanding into the world. I am passionate about being an artist because it allows me to live authentically and to help others do the same. Art is happiness. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue refining my craft and working toward a future where art is not just what I do, but how I give back. Art has shaped every part of my life—and I am excited to shape a life that brings the healing power of creativity to others.

Being a student-athlete has had a huge impact on my life, and it has shaped my future career goals in ways I never expected. As a three-year golfer and softball player, I’ve learned valuable life lessons that I believe will serve me well as I pursue my career as an art therapist. Through sports, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of teamwork, discipline, resilience, and the importance of staying focused on long-term goals. These lessons are just as important in the field of art therapy as they are on the field. Golf, in particular, has taught me a lot about mental strength and self-motivation. It’s a sport where you have to rely on yourself and your own abilities, and the mental side of the game is just as important as the physical. When things aren’t going well, you have to learn to push through, stay positive, and stay focused on improving. This is similar to the work I want to do as an art therapist. Working with individuals who are struggling with mental health or trauma requires patience, understanding, and a lot of encouragement. Just like in sports, I know that setbacks are part of the journey, and I need to remain supportive and dedicated to helping people overcome their struggles. As much as I love sports, my real passion lies in art, which is why I want to pursue a career in art therapy. From a young age, I’ve been drawn to creative expression, whether it’s through painting, sculpting, or designing costumes. Art has always been my way of expressing feelings that I can’t put into words. I struggled with ADHD and dyslexia growing up, and school wasn’t always easy for me. But when I was creating art, I felt like I could focus and make sense of everything that was going on inside my mind. That’s when I realized that art wasn’t just something I loved—it was something that could help others too. Art allows people to express their emotions in a safe and non-judgmental space, and that’s what inspired me to want to become an art therapist. In addition to art and sports, I’ve also found a deep passion for community service. I’ve volunteered with organizations like Habitat for Humanity, the Lions Club, and the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. These experiences have shown me the importance of giving back to others and how meaningful it can be to make a positive impact in someone else’s life. Working with people from different walks of life has helped me develop empathy, understanding, and a desire to make a difference. I believe that art therapy is a way for me to combine my love of helping others with my passion for creativity, and I can’t wait to start this journey. Balancing sports, school, and volunteer work has taught me how to manage my time effectively and stay disciplined, but it has also shown me how important it is to have a healthy mind and body. As an art therapist, I want to create a space where people feel heard and supported, just like I felt heard when I was working through my own challenges. Sports have taught me the value of hard work and perseverance, while art has taught me the power of self-expression and creativity. I believe that the skills I’ve developed as a student-athlete will be invaluable as I pursue my dream of becoming an art therapist, and I’m excited to combine my love of art, sports, and service to help others heal and grow.

Art is not just a way to express myself; it’s a way to connect with others, especially those who may not feel like they have a voice. Growing up, I always felt drawn to the arts, whether it was painting, sculpting, or designing for school events. But it wasn’t until I started volunteering and working with kids and in community organizations like Habitat for Humanity that I saw the true impact of art in building connections. I’ve had the chance to work with a lot of different people, and I’ve learned that art is an amazing tool for bringing people together, even when they’re going through tough times. One of my favorite experiences was when my school did collaborative art projects like painting banners and murals. We worked together as a team, sharing ideas and creating something that represented our school community. What I loved most about these projects was seeing how art allowed people who didn’t always fit in or weren’t great at speaking up, find a way to express themselves. It made me realize that art is powerful—not just because it’s beautiful, but because it creates connections between people who might not otherwise understand each other. This made me want to do something bigger with art, especially in the field of mental health. Growing up with ADHD and dyslexia, I often struggled in school, but when I was creating art, I felt like I could focus and express myself in a way that words couldn’t. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not being understood or to struggle with expressing what’s going on inside. That’s why I want to become an art therapist—so I can help others who are struggling with their emotions, mental health, or trauma to find a way to heal through art. Art therapy isn’t just about making something pretty—it’s about using art as a tool to help people open up, build trust, and feel less alone. The collaborative nature of art therapy is what excites me the most. When people work together to create something, they’re not just sharing their creativity—they’re sharing their stories and their emotions in a safe space. That’s where the real healing happens. Whether it’s in a group setting or one-on-one, I want to use art to help kids and people who are struggling find their voice and their sense of peace. I’ve always felt a deep connection to art, and now, as I look toward a career in art therapy, I want to bring that connection to others. The relationships that develop through collaboration are what make art so powerful, and I want to create those spaces for others, just like I experienced with my classmates and community members. Art is a way to bring people together, heal, and grow, and through art therapy, I hope to be part of that healing journey—one drawing, one conversation, and one connection at a time.

Growing up as a young woman, I’ve felt the weight of social pressure to be “good enough.” From a young age, there was this unspoken expectation that I should meet certain standards to fit in and be accepted. This pressure led to feelings of anxiety and self-doubt that really affected my mental health. Add to that the fact that my brain works a little differently—I’ve struggled with learning challenges and dyslexia—so it felt like I had to work twice as hard just to keep up. This combination of social anxiety and learning challenges shaped how I viewed myself and how I approached my relationships with others. I began to realize that the pressure to be perfect was affecting more than just how I saw myself—it was affecting the way I thought and felt, especially as a young woman trying to navigate the world. The social expectations placed on women made me feel like I was never quite enough. But as I grew older, I started understanding how my brain works differently, and that helped me shift my perspective. I stopped trying to force myself into a mold that wasn’t meant for me, and instead, I learned to embrace the way I think and feel. It wasn’t easy, and I still have moments of self-doubt, but I’ve learned that mental health isn’t just about emotional struggles; it’s about understanding how our minds work and learning to nurture them. And that’s exactly why I want to pursue a career as an art therapist, working with youth. I see art as a powerful tool to express emotions and work through difficult feelings. It’s helped me when words weren’t enough, and I want to be able to offer that same support to others, especially kids who might be struggling like I did. The experiences I’ve had with mental health have also shaped how I connect with others. Because I understand what it’s like to feel different or misunderstood, I’ve learned to be more compassionate and patient. As I started to accept myself, I became better at supporting others who were dealing with their own challenges. I want to carry that empathy into my future career, where I’ll be able to work with kids and teens to help them express their feelings and cope with the pressures they face. My ultimate goal is to become an art therapist and create a safe space where young people can talk about their struggles, use art to process their emotions, and feel understood. Whether it’s dealing with anxiety, self-esteem issues, or social pressures, I want to help youth find healthy ways to express themselves and build their confidence. I believe art therapy has the power to heal in a way that words alone can’t, and I want to be a part of helping kids realize that they are enough, just as they are. Through my career in art therapy, I hope to make a positive impact on mental health awareness, especially for young people. I want to help break the stigma around mental health and encourage kids to talk openly about their struggles. I want to help them understand that it’s okay to not have everything figured out, and that there are people who care and are ready to listen and support them. It’s my goal to help create a world where youth can express themselves freely and confidently, and feel supported in their mental health journey.

Mental health has been a significant part of my life journey, shaping not only my beliefs but also my relationships and career aspirations. Growing up, I faced challenges that made it hard to fit in or express myself in the ways others did. I’ve struggled with dyslexia and learning challenges, which sometimes made school feel like an uphill battle. Through these struggles, I learned that mental health is not just about emotional wellbeing but also how we learn, adapt, and build resilience. Over time, these experiences made me passionate about understanding the deep connection between mental health and how we thrive in life. My struggles with mental health shaped the way I view the world. I’ve learned to see challenges as opportunities for growth, even when it’s tough. I’ve come to understand that mental health isn't something that should be ignored or swept under the rug; it's as crucial as physical health. This realization has not only shaped my beliefs but also led me to become an advocate for open discussions about mental health. I want to encourage others to see mental health in the same way I do—not as something to be ashamed of, but as something that deserves care, attention, and understanding. My personal experiences with mental health have also influenced my relationships. I’ve learned the importance of empathy, patience, and communication. Growing up with learning challenges, I had to develop resilience and a sense of self-worth, and I can relate to others who might be struggling with their mental health, even if their experiences are different from mine. Being able to connect with people in a meaningful way, especially when they are facing their own struggles, is something I value deeply. It’s made me a better friend, a more compassionate person, and someone who is always ready to listen and offer support. These experiences have also guided me toward my career aspirations. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of helping others, and as I’ve grown, I’ve realized that I want to pursue a career in mental health. Specifically, I aspire to work as an art therapist, where I can combine my passion for creativity with my desire to help people heal and express their emotions. I believe that art can be an incredibly powerful tool for self-expression, especially for those who find it hard to verbalize their feelings. Whether it’s children struggling with trauma or adults facing mental health issues, I want to use the arts as a way for them to communicate and heal. Through my mental health career, I hope to make a positive impact on the world by breaking down the stigma surrounding mental health and encouraging others to seek help without fear of judgment. I want to be a part of creating a space where people feel safe, understood, and empowered to take control of their mental wellbeing. The mental health challenges I’ve faced have given me a deep sense of empathy, and I plan to use that to help others on their own journey of healing. In the future, I see myself working in schools, hospitals, or community organizations, offering art therapy to individuals and groups. I hope to show others that mental health is not a weakness, but a part of who we are that can be nurtured and supported. By pursuing this career, I am not only working toward a personal goal but also contributing to a larger mission of creating a more compassionate and understanding world.

The movie that has had the greatest impact on my life is The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith. It’s based on the true story of Chris Gardner, who goes from being homeless to landing a job as a stockbroker. Watching Chris go through such tough times—sleeping in shelters, struggling financially—while never giving up on his dreams really hit home for me. His story made me realize that no matter how hard life gets, with determination and hard work, anything is possible. What stuck with me most about the movie was how real and raw it was. Chris wasn’t trying to get rich or famous; he just wanted a better life for himself and his son. The constant challenges he faced, and his refusal to quit even when things seemed hopeless, reminded me of my own struggles. There have been times in my life when I’ve felt like giving up, but seeing Chris’s persistence inspired me to keep pushing through my own obstacles. This movie also changed how I view education. It showed me that school isn’t just about learning facts, but about using what you know to create opportunities and change your life. Just like Chris used his education to build a better future, I see higher education as my way to unlock my own potential. School hasn’t always been easy for me, but seeing Chris go through his struggles and succeed made me realize that success isn’t always immediate—it takes time and persistence. Chris’s story also taught me the importance of helping others, and that’s something I want to do with my education. I’m determined to use the knowledge I gain in college to give back to my community. Chris didn’t just want success for himself; he wanted a better life for his son. I want to follow that example by using my education to help others overcome their own struggles, especially kids who face tough situations. Education isn’t just about personal success—it’s about lifting others up along the way. The Pursuit of Happyness taught me that success is more about the journey than the destination. It’s about pushing forward even when it seems impossible. Watching Chris’s story reminded me that life will throw challenges at you, but it’s how you respond that matters. With the lessons I’ve learned from Chris’s journey, I’m ready to keep moving forward, no matter what obstacles come my way. This scholarship would help me take the next step toward my future, and with the determination I’ve gained from this movie, I know I’ll keep working hard to achieve my dreams.

Throughout my life, one of the most significant challenges I’ve faced was overcoming my struggle with learning differences, particularly dyslexia. From a young age, I had difficulty with reading, writing, and processing information in the way that others did. While my peers seemed to effortlessly pick up reading and writing skills, I often felt like I was falling behind. This challenge was not just academic but deeply personal, as I struggled with feelings of inadequacy and frustration. However, through hard work, persistence, and the support of my family and teachers, I learned how to navigate these obstacles and turn them into opportunities for personal growth. The journey wasn’t easy, but it taught me invaluable lessons about resilience and self-advocacy. I had to learn to ask for help, use alternative learning strategies, and embrace my unique way of thinking. I found ways to approach my education differently—whether it was breaking down tasks into smaller steps or using tools like audiobooks and text-to-speech programs. These adjustments made a world of difference and helped me realize that there is no one "right" way to learn. This experience not only built my confidence but also ignited a passion for helping others who face similar struggles. I became determined to understand how different learning styles and strategies could be applied to help people reach their potential. This obstacle also profoundly shaped my outlook on education. It made me realize that education is not just about memorizing facts or fitting into a conventional mold, but about finding the tools and support to unlock your full potential. My experiences have taught me that education is a deeply personal journey, one that requires flexibility, patience, and understanding. I now approach my own education with a sense of gratitude, recognizing how far I’ve come and how many opportunities learning provides. I no longer see my learning differences as barriers, but as strengths that have shaped my unique perspective. As I pursue my education in art therapy, I am driven by the desire to help others—especially children who may be facing their own challenges. I’ve learned that everyone has their own learning journey, and by providing compassionate support and creative outlets, I can help others express themselves and heal from trauma or adversity. Art therapy has the power to help individuals connect with their emotions in ways that words sometimes cannot, and I want to use this form of therapy to make a positive impact on my community and beyond. The obstacles I’ve faced in my life have shaped my personal growth and fueled my desire to use education to make a difference. As I continue my studies, I am committed to using the knowledge and skills I gain to help others overcome their challenges, whether through therapy, mentorship, or simply being a source of encouragement. My education has given me the tools to help build a more inclusive and supportive environment for those who need it most, and I am excited to take what I’ve learned and use it to create positive change in the world.

My favorite art project was not confined to a canvas or sculpture but unfolded throughout high school spirit week, where creativity and passion collided to create something truly unforgettable. Spirit week became my canvas, a time to pour my heart into one-of-a-kind creations and showcase my desire to always go "beyond" what was expected. The culmination of my spirit week efforts was more than just a display of art; it was a celebration of creativity, leadership, and the boldness to be "extra." For me, participating in spirit week was about more than just dressing up. I wanted to leave an impression, to show that art is more than just something you create—it’s a way to connect with people and spark something in them. Each year, I put my heart into crafting costumes and displays that were out of the ordinary. On "Out of This World Day," I became an alien, drenched in metallic green body paint, with a bald cap and special effects makeup. I transformed into something unrecognizable, creating a sense of awe and excitement. It wasn’t just a costume; it was an experience. For "Color Block Day," I took things further, constructing 6-foot angel wings, complete with bright pin feathers in vibrant colors. The wings were not just an accessory; they were a statement of boldness and creativity. I wanted to embody the idea that art could be both beautiful and powerful. Finally, for "Surfer Day," I constructed a lifesize wave made from 3 demensional materials. The scale and detail of the wave made it an interactive experience, inviting others to feel the energy of the ocean. These efforts did not go unnoticed. My classmates voted me Miss BHS for two years in a row, an honor that recognized not just my artistic talent but also my ability to bring creativity and energy to everything I did. It was a testament to how my spirit week creations connected with others and made a lasting impact. This passion for creating unforgettable experiences through art drives my desire to pursue a career in art therapy. I believe that art has the power to heal, to connect, and to inspire. Just as my spirit week creations allowed me to share a piece of myself with others, I want to use my creativity to help others find their voice and heal through artistic expression. My high school experience taught me that when we pour our hearts into our work, we can leave a lasting, positive impression on those around us—and that’s the kind of legacy I aim to build in the future.

From a young age, words on a page felt like scattered puzzle pieces that refused to fit together. Diagnosed with dyslexia early in my education, reading felt like an uphill battle—until I discovered graphic novels. The moment I picked up my first one, I felt an instant connection. The vibrant illustrations and expressive characters brought stories to life in a way that words alone never could. Graphic novels became my gateway into literature, sparking a love for storytelling that transcended traditional books. They allowed me to experience adventure, emotion, and meaning through a blend of visuals and words. As I grew older, I realized that art gave me the same sense of connection and understanding. Creating my own illustrations became a way to process and express ideas that were sometimes difficult to put into words. Art became my language, my way of telling stories when reading failed me. Now, as I pursue a degree in Studio Art with a minor in Psychology, I hope to combine my love for art with my personal experiences to help others. I want to use creative expression as a tool for healing, communication, and empowerment—especially for those who, like me, see the world a little differently.

Title: "Unscripted: The Art of Becoming" Opening Scene: FADE IN: A dimly lit art studio hums with quiet energy. A single overhead lamp casts a golden glow on a cluttered worktable, covered in splattered paint, sculpting tools, and half-finished sketches. In the center, a young woman—Sofie White—sits cross-legged on the floor, a blank canvas before her. She’s barefoot, wearing a hoodie smudged with color, her hands streaked with charcoal and clay. Music hums softly in the background, the lyrics barely audible but familiar. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, as if searching for the right way to begin. Shes been here many times before. A montage flickers across the screen—memories projected onto the empty canvas. Scenes shift between moments of struggle and triumph: a young Sofie fidgeting in class, her mind wandering while a teacher drones on; her hands shaping wet clay, frustration melting into focus; late nights spent designing banners for school events, her creativity boundless; the sting of disappointment when a dream slipped away, followed by the quiet determination to find a new path. She dips a brush into deep blue paint and sweeps it across the canvas—bold, deliberate, without hesitation. Her voice narrates: "For the longest time, I thought my life needed a script, a step-by-step plan that led to success. But I’ve learned that the most beautiful things come from the unexpected, from the moments where you trust yourself enough to create without knowing exactly what comes next. My life is a work in progress—a messy, vibrant masterpiece in the making." As the camera pulls back, the scene reveals not just one canvas, but a room filled with unfinished works, as if her mind races between ideas and works; each telling a different story. Some are bright and full of movement, others darker with layers waiting to be uncovered. A close-up of Sofie’s hands shows her adding details—small imperfections that make the piece uniquely hers. The camera pans to a nearby bookshelf stacked with sketchbooks, each labeled with a different year of Sofie’s life. She picks up the most recent one and flips through the pages—doodles, notes, and fully realized pieces capturing her journey. Some pages are smudged with erased attempts, others are bold and confident. She pauses on a page with a rough sketch of a child and a swirl of abstract colors surrounding them. A post-it note reads: "Art Therapy—Future?" A knock on the door interrupts the moment. It’s a friend, holding a cup of coffee, grinning. "Taking a break or still lost in the masterpiece?" they tease. Sofie laughs, setting down her brush. "A little of both." She stretches, looking around at the controlled chaos of her workspace. It’s a reflection of her mind—constantly creating, constantly evolving. The camera lingers on her latest painting, a self-portrait in progress, before shifting back to Sofie as she takes a deep breath and smiles. FADE TO BLACK. Her voice, steady and sure, whispers over the darkness: "This is just the beginning." FADE OUT.

When I was younger, I struggled to keep up in class. My ADHD made it hard to focus, and I often felt frustrated and overwhelmed. Over time, I learned that my brain works differently, and I had to find new ways to succeed in school and life. One of my biggest challenges is staying focused in traditional classroom settings. Long lectures and reading assignments can be tough, and timed tests make me anxious. However, I’ve found that hands-on learning and creative projects help me absorb information better. Art has been my anchor—it’s the one place where I can focus completely and let my thoughts flow freely. Creating art allows me to express thoughts and emotions that are difficult to put into words, and it has become a powerful tool for managing my mental health. Beyond school, my mental health affects my personal life. ADHD comes with emotional ups and downs, and I sometimes struggle with self-doubt and anxiety. Social situations can be tricky, but I’ve learned to embrace my differences. Instead of seeing ADHD as a weakness, I use it to fuel my creativity and passion for helping others. This has inspired me to pursue a career in art therapy, where I can support children facing similar struggles. To prioritize my mental health, I have developed strategies that help me manage school and life. I communicate with my teachers about my needs and ask for accommodations when necessary. I use planners and checklists to stay organized and break big tasks into smaller steps. This helps me avoid feeling overwhelmed and allows me to work through assignments in a structured way. Physical activity also plays a huge role in my well-being. Playing golf and softball allows me to relieve stress and improve focus. Even when injuries have kept me off the field, I stayed involved with my teams, which taught me resilience and adaptability. I also set aside time for self-care—listening to music, spending time outdoors, and creating art help me recharge and maintain balance. Despite the challenges, my ADHD has given me unique strengths. It has shaped my academic path, fueled my creativity, and led me to a career where I can make a difference. I know that by prioritizing my mental health and embracing my strengths, I can succeed in school and beyond while helping others along the way. My journey has taught me resilience, self-awareness, and the importance of finding personal strategies for success. I am excited about the future and the opportunity to use my experiences to make a meaningful impact in the lives of others.