Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they’re still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade cards. Even as I got older and bought gifts, I continued making cards because I saw how much they meant to people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. I loved creating smiles by sending them encouraging cards, but I felt more could be done. While not feeling confident enough, I still established a club at my school and went through some struggles. I worried that people wouldn’t want to join but I found that a lot of other students had similar ideals. They wanted to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike and just needed a push to get them started. With all these cards we make together, I follow the same patterns. I trace my trusty fine line over basic gray scribbles, turning them into something meaningful. I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion to foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression because the more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Ultimately, it’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. When my teacher asked a year ago what I wanted to be remembered for, I stammered a generic answer and didn’t know. Now, I have a definitive answer. Just like a historical figure in the books, I’m going to be remembered as someone who made a meaningful impact through my future aspirations, whether it be connecting with people through cards or as a psychiatrist helping people with mental health struggles. This scholarship would help me take a step towards that journey of undergraduate school, medical school, and a residency program that will allow me to make my impact on individuals around me.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. This scholarship will help me in going to college so I can best achieve my goals.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they’re still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Years ago, as I walked down the aisles of a grocery store, staring at the towering shelves surrounding me, something caught my eye. I let go of my mother’s hand and wandered into a nearby aisle, discovering this overwhelming amount of vivid colors with scribbles upon letters blending together. The card aisle was filled with never-ending rows of possibly celebratory, humorous, and sarcastic messages with equally personified images. Although I didn’t understand them, I was mesmerized and drawn to all the possibilities. As my mom found me and we started walking out of the store, I couldn’t help but look back and dream of designing equally intriguing cards, if not better. Since then, every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I got older and bought gifts, I continued making cards because I saw how much they meant to people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. I loved creating smiles by sending them encouraging cards, but I felt more could be done. While not feeling confident enough, I still established a club at my school and went through some struggles. I worried that people wouldn’t want to join but I found that a lot of other students had similar ideals. They wanted to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike and just needed a push to get them started. With all these cards we make together, I follow the same patterns. I trace my trusty fine line over basic gray scribbles, turning them into something meaningful. I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion to foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression because the more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Ultimately, it’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. When my teacher asked a year ago what I wanted to be remembered for, I stammered a generic answer and didn’t know. Now, I have a definitive answer. Just like a historical figure in the books, I’m going to be remembered as someone who made a meaningful impact through my future aspirations, whether it be connecting with people through cards or as a psychiatrist helping people with mental health struggles.

"Emily told us you were in a bad mood today.. are you okay?" My friend looked concerned and she studied my face as I responded. "Oh, haha.. I only got six hours of sleep last night, I'll tell her I'm sorry." I gave a tired smile. That was how I got away with not having to tell my friends what was going on. Every so often I would give an excuse and they would accept it because I tried my best to sound convincing. The truth was, I did get six hours of sleep, compared to my usual eight. But the reason why was the main culprit. I went to bed at the same time as usual, but as I drifted off into a sleep- I was interrupted. My mother would violently open my door, slamming it against the wall as my eyes shot open and I prepared for the worst. Everything she said I'd heard before, but I can never NOT let it affect me. No matter how hard I try, tears end up pooling before I can tell myself to block her out. I'm not going to be accepted into any colleges. My 1440 SAT score was pathetic. I wasted my math tutor's time. Violin lessons were pointless if I wasn't going to be a prodigy. I'm lazy. Sloppy's my middle name. I'm a liar, I'm a gaslighter. I'm doing drugs in the library (for real, how does that make sense?). The thing is, I never really take what she says to heart. I know that the next day she'll feel guilty and buy my favorite foods to make up for it, but the neverending cycle of this toxic relationship was what put me on edge. I would go to school and I would be stressed once again about the overwhelming future I saw ahead of me, but then remember I should take it one step and a time and relax. It wasn't always that easy, though. Freshman year, I used to be dropped off by my mom at school, yelled at in the car too, and walk to school. Eyes red, runny nose, blinking back more tears, tasting the salt in my mouth, it was a nightmare. But, I never let it impact my academic performance. In fact, I felt like I had to prove her wrong, show her what I could do, and lock in. For the most part, it worked. My social life, however, was a little harder to make work. On bad days, the smallest thing at school could trigger me. I could be left out of a conversation for literally ten seconds and I would feel tears pooling in my eyes, with my thoughts telling me I was just an extra. Again, it got easier and I learned to pretend like nothing happened. The best way I learned to make my mental health a priority was to run. I joined cross country and track my Freshman year and never turned back. Practice after school was something I always looked forward to. I made my closest friends there, and I could always confide in them and they helped me get through everything. I do my best to hold myself together. I pick up the pieces my mom breaks off me and bring them to my friends so they can help me put them back together. Sometimes, I can do it myself. It's progress, and I've never stopped trying my best.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The one change I would make it making mental health care free of charge to minors (under 18). It's hard to reach out for help when you're young and you don't want that bill or record attached to you, and the sooner you get help the better you'll get. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. What I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

"Okay, and then we'll go to Susie's house and see her cat. After that, we'll all take the light rail and wait in the line early for merch. And then we can see TAYLOR SWIFT!!" My friends and I excitedly jumped up and down. "Of course, this is all only if- we get the tickets.." I added. My friend shrugged and assured us she would definitely get them. The next thing you know, we're there. In the giant Lumen Stadium in Seattle, at Taylor Swift's Eras Tour Concert. It was unbelievable. Bright lights, excited chatter, and the smell of sweet perfume, it was incredible. Seated in the middle-top area, it was such a good view for such cheap tickets. I remember the hush of the crowd, the accidental spill of our waters, and the silence of everyone holding their breaths. Everything went dark and I could hear my friend exhale slowly. "She's there!!!" Suddenly, cheers erupted. The one and only Taylor Swift emerged from the stage, singing an all-time favorite of "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince". For the next half hour, we sang our hearts out and screamed in each other's faces. Then suddenly all of our bracelets, handed to us and the entrance, began lighting up. However, my friend's bracelet didn't seem to work. Distressed, she told me it was fine and we continued on singing, but midway through it changed colors! It turns out, she had gotten one of those special bracelets that only lit up and certain times when the colors were flickering, and it was such an amazing experience. I remember for the next few hours we were just singing, and we dedicated ourselves to standing through every single song. Even her song "Champagne Problems" that everyone claimed made them fall asleep, we were singing the words and not letting our backs touch the seats. In between every longer transition, we sat down to rest, but not for long. Eventually, we ran out of water. With about an hour left to go for the concert, my friend and I had to share a water bottle and we were down to the last few sips. Taking minuscule sips with every song, eventually there was just none and our voices were hoarse and could barely swallow without it hurting. The best part? During "Love Story", there was a lyric, "Marry Me, Juliet", and we watched several people around us, as well as ourselves, kneel and 'propose' to our friends. It was such a heartwarming moment and that's when I really smiled, knowing how music brings people together. It was my favorite concert, and my first concert. I wouldn't have wanted it to be with anyone else, singer and friends included, and sometimes I do still dream about it.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. I've always had varying opinions on what I want to do when I grow up, and a lot of what came with choosing psychiatry was my personal development. The more I grew up, the more I learned about the world and its flaws and imperfections to fix. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

"Emily told us you were in a bad mood today.. are you okay?" My friend looked concerned and she studied my face as I responded. "Oh, haha.. I only got six hours of sleep last night, I'll tell her I'm sorry." I gave a tired smile. That was how I got away with not having to tell my friends what was going on. Every so often I would give an excuse and they would accept it because I tried my best to sound convincing. The truth was, I did get six hours of sleep, compared to my usual eight. But the reason why was the main culprit. I went to bed at the same time as usual, but as I drifted off into a sleep- I was interrupted. My mother would violently open my door, slamming it against the wall as my eyes shot open and I prepared for the worst. Everything she said I'd heard before, but I can never NOT let it affect me. No matter how hard I try, tears end up pooling before I can tell myself to block her out. I'm not going to be accepted into any colleges. My 1440 SAT score was pathetic. I wasted my math tutor's time. Violin lessons were pointless if I wasn't going to be a prodigy. I'm lazy. Sloppy's my middle name. I'm a liar, I'm a gaslighter. I'm doing drugs in the library (for real, how does that make sense?). The thing is, I never really take what she says to heart. I know that the next day she'll feel guilty and buy my favorite foods to make up for it, but the neverending cycle of this toxic relationship was what put me on edge. I would go to school and I would be stressed once again about the overwhelming future I saw ahead of me, but then remember I should take it one step and a time and relax. It wasn't always that easy, though. Freshman year, I used to be dropped off by my mom at school, yelled at in the car too, and walk to school. Eyes red, runny nose, blinking back more tears, tasting the salt in my mouth, it was a nightmare. But, I never let it impact my academic performance. In fact, I felt like I had to prove her wrong, show her what I could do, and lock in. For the most part, it worked. My social life, however, was a little harder to make work. On bad days, the smallest thing at school could trigger me. I could be left out of a conversation for literally ten seconds and I would feel tears pooling in my eyes, with my thoughts telling me I was just an extra. Again, it got easier and I learned to pretend like nothing happened. The best way I learned to make my mental health a priority was to run. I joined cross country and track my Freshman year and never turned back. Practice after school was something I always looked forward to. I made my closest friends there, and I could always confide in them and they helped me get through everything. I do my best to hold myself together. I pick up the pieces my mom breaks off me and bring them to my friends so they can help me put them back together. Sometimes, I can do it myself. It's progress, and I've never stopped trying my best.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. I chose to go the my high school because of their STEM program, and through the biotech pathway and beyond in college I will pursue that degree. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible, but to do that, I needed to help myself first. "I'm not going to be accepted into any colleges. My 1440 SAT score was pathetic. I wasted my math tutor's time. Violin lessons were pointless if I wasn't going to be a prodigy. I'm lazy. Sloppy's my middle name. I'm a liar, I'm a gaslighter. I'm doing drugs in the library" (for real, how does that make sense?). I never really take what my mom says to heart. I know that the next day she'll feel guilty and buy my favorite foods to make up for it, but the neverending cycle of this toxic relationship was what put me on edge. I would go to school and I would be stressed once again about the overwhelming future I saw ahead of me, but then remember I should take it one step and a time and relax. It wasn't always that easy, though. Freshman year, I used to be dropped off by my mom at school, yelled at in the car too, and walk to school. Eyes red, runny nose, blinking back more tears, tasting the salt in my mouth, it was a nightmare. But, I never let it impact my academic performance. In fact, I felt like I had to prove her wrong, show her what I could do, and lock in. For the most part, it worked. My social life, however, was a little harder to make work. On bad days, the smallest thing at school could trigger me. I could be left out of a conversation for literally ten seconds and I would feel tears pooling in my eyes, with my thoughts telling me I was just an extra. Again, it got easier and I learned to pretend like nothing happened. The best way I learned to make my mental health a priority was to run. I joined cross country and track my Freshman year and never turned back. Practice after school was something I always looked forward to. I made my closest friends there, and I could always confide in them and they helped me get through everything. By slowly getting better through the years, I learned a lot. I wanted to help young souls reach out and get the mental help that they needed without the stigmatization that tends to go with it. I learned that relationships are one of the most important things to keep when you're struggling. I learned to believe in myself, and in doing so believing that everyone could believe in themselves. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. This scholarship will help me in going to college so I can best achieve my goals.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. And that, is what this scholarship can help me do.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. And that, it was this scholarship can help me achieve.

"MOM! Tell her to stop taking my books!" My older sister slammed her door and I looked guiltily at my mom. It was a common occurrence. Ever since I was able to read, I've loved books. Maybe I was just following my sister's footsteps at first, but my passion for literature developed as I grew older. I would just gobble books up and literally, I was a bookworm. At some point in my elementary years I remember I would be yelled at for constantly reading, staying up late, and using a lamp to see because I was so desperate to finish an enthralling book. I would always try and read during dinner times, and my parents would give in halfway and use my stubbornness as an advantage, saying I could read and eat if I finished half my meal first. I've definitely improved on minimizing the amount I read now, partially because I'm much more busy, but I still love the hobby. Every time I open a new book, it's a new world. It's like going to a party but without the pain of worrying about how to socialize properly or making bad decisions (you can just read about other people doing that). Even when I'm reading books where character's have great lives and are living amazing fantasies, I never want to be in their place. I don't want to meet fairies or go defeat despotic kings; I want to live my own life learning from lessons learned in books. One of my favorite book series as a child is a classic: Harry Potter. Sure, when I first read it in middle school I did think it would be so cool to be a part of that world- imagine waving a wand and saying nonsense could spellcheck your work! But, then I thought about it. Imagine having to defeat an evil wizard with no nose and a snake for a pet. That wouldn't be my cup of tea.. Instead, I found deeper meanings throughout the series that I could apply to my own life. Harry, Ron, and Hermione- at first it seems like they're the perfect trio, but they had a lot of flaws in their friendship. In the end, though, they always stuck it out together and had each other's backs. That's exactly how every friendship should work. Through ups and downs, you get through it together, and that's how you know you've found life-long friends. Hermione was an overachiever, Ron was a little bit of a procrastinator, and Harry just tried his best. Combining these three characters and their traits marked the way that I learned to thrive in school. You want to have ambitions and goals, and mine is to have a future in psychiatry, treating mentally ill patients and destigmatizing the general concept. You always want to try your best, and some procrastination is good as a break for your brain and body. For me, I go out on runs to clear my mind and it really helps me sleep better and just put my best foot forward on everything. Books will always be a part of my life, and I know that I'll always find something to read, something to learn, and something to look forward to.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. However, in order to achieve those goals, I have to start somehwere. That's why I'm going into a biology major at college, which will allow me to learn so much and set a baseline for my future. I've been a proud woman in STEM since my freshman year of high school and that isn't going to change in college. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I grew up and bought presents, my habit of making these cards never went away because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. But no matter who a card is for, I follow the same pattern: Laptop, headphones, pencil, marker. I trace my trusty fine line over basic gray scribbles, transforming them into something meaningful. I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion and foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression—but why? With the choice of receiving a folded paper with doodles or a new computer, most people would pick the latter. But what if it was a folded paper made by someone held close to one’s heart filled with relatable persona and cheesy messages? The more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Just like history tends to leave its impact on the world, I want to leave an impact on the people I meet. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Now, it's not all just about cards. I want to make a change in the future of psychiatry, benefitting patients and doctors alike. Everything I choose will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. And that, is what this scholarship can help me do, driving me forward, little by little.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I get to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I grew up and bought presents, my habit of making these cards never went away because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. I contacted senior homes around my high school and that allowed us to form a connection where students could get volunteer hours and seniors could be given a card. When I make cards for people, it’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. As having been violin concertmaster for all of my elementary, middle and high school years, I lead our orchestra to do our best at concerts. With my hands shaking and palms sweaty before a concert, my peers smile reassuringly and we all hype each other up. It takes two to tango, and in every case it takes more than one to be successful. Even when playing a sport that's not necessarily a team sport like cross country, the community makes it feel as if it is. From being an inexperienced and 'slow' freshman, I found my first high school friends through the sport and we grew together, pushing one another to run as hard as we could. When I thought I would give up in the last race to qualify for the State XC Championships, my teammate whispered an encouraging 'go' while they were in their own pain cave, and that's all the motivation I needed. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. And that, is what this scholarship can help me achieve.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have because I know I'll be successful.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain? What about the fact that Dominican monks Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Years ago, as I walked down the aisles of a grocery store, staring at the towering shelves surrounding me, something caught my eye. I let go of my mother’s hand and wandered into an aisle, discovering this overwhelming amount of vivid colors with scribbles upon cursive letters all blending, making my head spin. The card aisle was filled with never-ending rows of possibly celebratory, humorous, or sarcastic messages with equally personified images. I was mesmerized and drawn to all the possibilities. As my mom found me and we started walking out of the store, I couldn’t help but look back and dream of designing equally intriguing cards, if not better. Since then, every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. I learned to create homemade gifts because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. But no matter who a card is for, I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion and foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression—but why? With the choice of receiving a folded paper with doodles or a new computer, most people would pick the latter. But what if it was a folded paper made by someone held close to one’s heart filled with relatable persona and cheesy messages? The more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Just like history tends to leave its impact on the world, I want to leave an impact on the people I meet. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have. And that, is what this scholarship can help me achieve.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. What I'm most drawn to, however, is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. There's the mental health stigmatization of victims that need to be changed, and that is my goal: to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Sweating, panting, exhausted. That sums up a lot of my life. I have a vision in my head, a goal I want to reach, but the execution isn’t ideal nor smooth. Yet once I lunge, tripping, falling, spinning along the way, I feel my fingers lock around the edges of... A cloud? My hands slip through the airy essence and I fall back on the ground. But with that momentum, I’m able to bounce back up. I look into the sky, and I see it starts to rain. I avoid the battering of the rain, trying to find somewhere dry so I can be comfortable. Then I see something glistening between the lines of raindrops. I lunge again, tumbling, fearing, slipping along the way. This time my fingers lock around something solid. An... Ice cube? It’s strange, but that general idea and visualization helped me stay motivated and running is a prime example of that. Everything kind of came together my Junior year of high school. Since Freshman year, I had been trying to make it to State for cross country (XC) and also for this All-State Orchestra program where I had to audition and hope the judges weren’t sick of listening to thousands of kids play the same thing. Freshman year I had not made it to state for either, rejected harshly from the All-State Program and not even being close for XC. Sophomore year I had a lot of hope. However, I got waitlisted for All-State even though I thought I practiced a lot, and for XC, I was so close but got injured before the qualifying race. I’m not sure what happened my Junior year; maybe it was all the previous years adding up, a more determined drive, focus- either way, something changed. I qualified for state XC and the All-State orchestra and was absolutely thrilled for both. But, there were a lot of moments that gave me a lot of doubt. When having to pay for the fee to audition for All-State my Sophomore and Junior year, I remember my parents telling me that I shouldn’t try because it wouldn’t be worth it. I remember feeling like all hope was lost after that injury in XC Sophomore season. I remember being tired of practicing violin for an hour every day because it was taking up so much time, especially in the school year, and I was just over it. Over everything. I remember building my strength back up for running in the summer and feeling so exhausted after a run that I just wanted to quit. But I never did. Now that I have achieved those goals, I look back on everything that I’ve done and realize it was all building up to get me here. When I was tired of practicing, I gave myself new music to distract me from being bored and enjoyed it. When I didn’t have motivation to run, I had my friends who ran with me and I kept thinking about the state qualifying race. I just kept thinking about my future, what I wanted to achieve, and how remarkable it would feel at the end. Once I had that block of ice, I didn’t lock it in a freezer and just admire it. I took care of it. I kept practicing, I kept running, keeping the block cool so it would never melt and make my accomplishments go to waste. And, whenever it does become time to put the ice cube away, I will. But it’s not gone. And who knows? Maybe I can fill the whole freezer up eventually.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best for my future. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond history, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. However, what I'm most drawn to is mental health. I plan on majoring in biology to go towards a career of psychiatry. I've been interested in mental health for a few years now because of personal experience, family and friends struggling, and general interest. I want to lower the stigmatization toward mentally ill individuals and focus on treating and diagnosing them properly so they can recover as best they can. A friend introduced it to true crime years ago, and I fell down the rabbit hole and discovered its world. What intrigued me most was the psychological perspective of the perpetrators and victims. Sometimes, too often, the victim of the crime will be blamed and persecuted because they have a mental illness that allegedly makes them “discreditable”. However, it ends up being a mental illness of some sort that did affect their life, but not the story they told. Then there was the perpetrator’s perspective. A lot of them had issues when they were kids that were never addressed and only grew as they got older. If they had been helped at that young age when they were less likely to be harmful, things could have changed and lives could have been saved. My goal is to help as many people as I can so they can live out the rest of their life in the best way possible. The decisions I make in the field, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

"Emily told us you were in a bad mood today.. are you okay?" My friend looked concerned and she studied my face as I responded. "Oh, haha.. I only got six hours of sleep last night, I'll tell her I'm sorry." I gave a tired smile. That was how I got away with not having to tell my friends what was going on. Every so often I would give an excuse and they would accept it because I tried my best to sound convincing. The truth was, I did get six hours of sleep, compared to my usual eight. But the reason why was the main culprit. I went to bed at the same time as usual, but as I drifted off into a sleep- I was interrupted. My mother would violently open my door, slamming it against the wall as my eyes shot open and I prepared for the worst. Everything she said I'd heard before, but I can never NOT let it affect me. No matter how hard I try, tears end up pooling before I can tell myself to block her out. I'm not going to be accepted into any colleges. My 1440 SAT score was pathetic. I wasted my math tutor's time. Violin lessons were pointless if I wasn't going to be a prodigy. I'm lazy. Sloppy's my middle name. I'm a liar, I'm a gaslighter. I'm doing drugs in the library (for real, how does that make sense?). The thing is, I never really take what she says to heart. I know that the next day she'll feel guilty and buy my favorite foods to make up for it, but the neverending cycle of this toxic relationship was what put me on edge. I would go to school and I would be stressed once again about the overwhelming future I saw ahead of me, but then remember I should take it one step and a time and relax. It wasn't always that easy, though. Freshman year, I used to be dropped off by my mom at school, yelled at in the car too, and walk to school. Eyes red, runny nose, blinking back more tears, tasting the salt in my mouth, it was a nightmare. But, I never let it impact my academic performance. In fact, I felt like I had to prove her wrong, show her what I could do, and lock in. For the most part, it worked. My social life, however, was a little harder to make work. On bad days, the smallest thing at school could trigger me. I could be left out of a conversation for literally ten seconds and I would feel tears pooling in my eyes, with my thoughts telling me I was just an extra. Again, it got easier and I learned to pretend like nothing happened. The best way I learned to make my mental health a priority was to run. I joined cross country and track my Freshman year and never turned back. Practice after school was something I always looked forward to. I made my closest friends there, and I could always confide in them and they helped me get through everything. I do my best to hold myself together. I pick up the pieces my mom breaks off me and bring them to my friends so they can help me put them back together. Sometimes, I can do it myself. It's progress, and I've never stopped trying my best.

"Emily told us you were in a bad mood today.. are you okay?" My friend looked concerned and she studied my face as I responded. "Oh, haha.. I only got six hours of sleep last night, I'll tell her I'm sorry." I gave a tired smile. That was how I got away with not having to tell my friends what was going on. Every so often I would give an excuse and they would accept it because I tried my best to sound convincing. The truth was, I did get six hours of sleep, compared to my usual eight. But the reason why was the main culprit. I went to bed at the same time as usual, but as I drifted off into a sleep- I was interrupted. My mother would violently open my door, slamming it against the wall as my eyes shot open and I prepared for the worst. Everything she said I'd heard before, but I can never NOT let it affect me. No matter how hard I try, tears end up pooling before I can tell myself to block her out. I'm not going to be accepted into any colleges. My 1440 SAT score was pathetic. I wasted my math tutor's time. Violin lessons were pointless if I wasn't going to be a prodigy. I'm lazy. Sloppy's my middle name. I'm a liar, I'm a gaslighter. I'm doing drugs in the library (for real, how does that make sense?). The thing is, I never really take what she says to heart. I know that the next day she'll feel guilty and buy my favorite foods to make up for it, but the neverending cycle of this toxic relationship was what put me on edge. I would go to school and I would be stressed once again about the overwhelming future I saw ahead of me, but then remember I should take it one step and a time and relax. It wasn't always that easy, though. Freshman year, I used to be dropped off by my mom at school, yelled at in the car too, and walk to school. Eyes red, runny nose, blinking back more tears, tasting the salt in my mouth, it was a nightmare. But, I never let it impact my academic performance. In fact, I felt like I had to prove her wrong, show her what I could do, and lock in. For the most part, it worked. My social life, however, was a little harder to make work. On bad days, the smallest thing at school could trigger me. I could be left out of a conversation for literally ten seconds and I would feel tears pooling in my eyes, with my thoughts telling me I was just an extra. Again, it got easier and I learned to pretend like nothing happened. The best way I learned to make my mental health a priority was to run. I joined cross country and track my Freshman year and never turned back. Practice after school was something I always looked forward to. I made my closest friends there, and I could always confide in them and they helped me get through everything. I do my best to hold myself together. I pick up the pieces my mom breaks off me and bring them to my friends so they can help me put them back together. Sometimes, I can do it myself. It's progress, and I've never stopped trying my best.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I get to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I grew up and bought presents, my habit of making these cards never went away because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. I contacted senior homes around my high school and that allowed us to form a connection where students could get volunteer hours and seniors could be given a card. When I make a card for people, it’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. As having been violin concertmaster for all of my elementary, middle and high school years, I lead our orchestra to do our best at concerts. With my hands shaking and palms sweaty before a concert, my peers smile reassuringly and we all hype each other up. It takes two to tango, and in every case it takes more than one to be successful. Even when playing a sport that's not necessarily a team sport like cross country, the community makes it feel as if it is. From being an inexperienced and 'slow' freshman, I found my first high school friends through the sport and we grew together, pushing one another to run as hard as we could. When I thought I would give up in the last race to qualify for the State XC Championships, my teammate whispered an encouraging 'go' while they were in their own pain cave, and that's all the motivation I needed. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

"Next!" Ms. Brown ushered me to the front of the class. This was it. This was my moment to shine and I wasn't going to let anything stop me. "32!" I confidently raised my chin, ready to stand my ground and answer the next question. "Wrong! Next!" I stood frozen, not sure what to do. How could this have happened? Suddenly, I knew the mistake I made. Seven times six... was 42. Not 32. Cheeks slightly pink and eyes fluttering, I stepped away, embarrassed. Even at the ripe age of nine, I was passionate about math and so horrified by that simple error. It was a 4th grade mini-math challenge where students had to answer as many questions as they could in a team. Not only had I let myself down, but my classmates too. There was always something I liked about how logical math was. You know those personality tests that were really cool back in the 2010s? Well, I took one and was labeled as a realist, not letting emotions get the best of me and using reason for most decisions. I was even embarrassed by that result since all of my friends were 'dreamers'. However, I think about it now and realize that silly little label wasn't all that wrong. The feeling of understanding how to do something and seeing all the puzzle pieces click is something I love and will never go away, and that's what math is to me. Taking AP Calculus AB my Junior year of high school was one of the best decisions I made because I enjoyed the class so much. It integrated (get it?) several math components into its problems and it was a class where I could feel at ease, in my element, in a familiar pattern. <3

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I grew up and bought presents, my habit of making these cards never went away because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. But no matter who a card is for, I follow the same pattern: Laptop, headphones, pencil, marker. I trace my trusty fine line over basic gray scribbles, transforming them into something meaningful. I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion and foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression—but why? With the choice of receiving a folded paper with doodles or a new computer, most people would pick the latter. But what if it was a folded paper made by someone held close to one’s heart filled with relatable persona and cheesy messages? The more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Just like history tends to leave its impact on the world, I want to leave an impact on the people I meet. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Now, it's not all just about cards. I want to make a change in the future of psychiatry, benefitting patients and doctors alike. Everything I choose will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.

Did you know that neuroanatomists Camillo Golgi and Santiago Cajal identified how neurons were the building blocks of the brain, winning them a Nobel Prize? What about the fact that Johann Weyer and Reginald Scot, 16th-century Dominican monks, tried to convince people that “witches” were just women with mental illnesses, not demonic possession? These historical figures may not be well known, but they are still recorded in books for anyone to find. They told stories through their impact, and while it’s not always possible to affect as much of the world as some do, I’ll still make an impact on my world—the people around me. Years ago, as I walked down the aisles of a grocery store, staring at the towering shelves surrounding me, something caught my eye. I let go of my mother’s hand and wandered into a nearby aisle, discovering this overwhelming amount of vivid colors with scribbles upon cursive letters all blending together, making my head spin. The card aisle was filled with never-ending rows and columns of possibly celebratory, humorous, or sarcastic messages with equally personified images. Even though I didn’t understand it, I was mesmerized and drawn to all the possibilities. As my mom found me and we started walking out of the store, I couldn’t help but look back and dream of designing equally intriguing cards, if not better. Since then, every birthday, every holiday, every occasion where I felt like someone needed a little something to cheer them up, I got to work. As a little third grader, I couldn’t go out and buy things, so I learned to create homemade gifts. Even as I grew up and bought presents, my habit of making these cards never went away because I saw the impact it had on people. Not only my loved ones, but people I didn’t personally know like local senior citizens. While I felt like I was helping create some smiles by sending them encouraging cards, I knew more could be done. So, I established a chapter at my school to shape a community focused on uplifting students and recipients alike. But no matter who a card is for, I follow the same pattern: Laptop, headphones, pencil, marker. I trace my trusty fine line over basic gray scribbles, transforming them into something meaningful. I carefully choose designs and messages that reflect the occasion and foster genuine connections. It has to make a long-lasting impression—but why? With the choice of receiving a folded paper with doodles or a new computer, most people would pick the latter. But what if it was a folded paper made by someone held close to one’s heart filled with relatable persona and cheesy messages? The more effort and thought put into a gift, the more it will be valued. Just like history tends to leave its impact on the world, I want to leave an impact on the people I meet. It’s all a matter of what I feel is best by using different words and drawings. Do I pick up a red or pink marker? Do I use cursive or blocky letters? From caveman scribbles to Monet’s paintings, historical narratives can be interpreted differently. Reflecting on my own story, I find myself thinking beyond cards, drafting out my own life. Do I trace the natural terrain of cross-country? Or the loops of a never-ending track? I could even choose between the abstract amoebas of biology or the mind mazes of psychology. Often, I might dabble with the bright colors of chemistry, or perhaps the sharp strokes of a violin. Whether selecting the perfect color for a card or choosing a path for my future, I know it will shape others and myself. Even if I’m not being discussed in history class as a revolutionary figure, I know I’ll have left my impact on anyone and anywhere I could have.