Potatoes: the most daunting task for father, come dinnertime. In our small home, he was in charge of the meals, acting as the stay-at-home dad for my entire life. I remember the countless evenings I spent at his side, peeling potatoes for him as he worked our stove. His little 'sous-chef', he'd call me, and how I'd beam with pride. It was such a small task, and I certainly butchered a potato or two in the process, but without fail, he'd call for my aid. Why, when he could definitely finish the task much quicker and better than me? Because, in his wheelchair, he couldn't move from the stove to the counter in our tiny kitchen. There just wasn't any room. Every person faces a story all their own, filled with unique struggles someone might miss at first glance. Without my father, I may have never realized such. But my time volunteering with El Paso Health, a non-profit organization, truly showed me the expanse of the issue. El Paso Health offers comprehensive care packages of food, fruits, snacks, and other donated food items to those who might need them. It often comes as a random assortment, and we do the best we can with what is given, yet even still, the line extends out the door and around the building. During the COVID pandemic, we were responsible for feeding up to 500 families. Now, almost 7 years later, 400 families still require our service. They came in all shapes and sizes, from young adolescents to elderly folks, in family sizes of 5 to 6 or 2 people small; all walks of life. Could you imagine that? An entire community shares the same struggle of finding basic necessities, such as food, yet it has only one major organization to turn to. The problem goes largely unanswered, and why? Because the issue isn't visible to the eye. But I have seen this issue, and I owe it not only to my community, but also to my father, to address it. With the proper resources, I would increase the funding for organizations like El Paso Health, as well as create more aids like them. Outreach would be the main goal: spreading news of the available resources far and wide, so that those who need them will discover them. And, personally, I'd hope to start a meal business of my own, offering balanced meals set in containers for easy access to a good feast whenever needed. As a species, we all face obstacles we might struggle to overcome. But as a community, we should come together to face those obstacles and find a solution that could benefit us all. Especially if that solution is access to a quality dinner at the end of the day! Because, let's face it, everyone could use a little help. Even if that help comes in the form of a potato.

Do you recall when you were younger, the hopeful messages your parents would gift you? Promises that when you'd grow up, they were certain you'd be someone incredible. Maybe you'd be the next president, an astronaut, a pop star, or who knows, maybe the next Superman! Whatever the dream, you'd be the very best, they promised. I remember that message. And while I haven't started any political campaign or discovered my kryptonian powers, I still want nothing more than to make their dream a reality, and I have done everything I can to do so. Starting with my academics, never has a day passed that I haven't given it my all. I've maintained a perfect straight-A streak from elementary school through college, earning and maintaining a 4.0 GPA. Hours of diligent studying and practice resulted in my undertaking of six AP exams; five of which I earned a score of four, and one a five! These are some of the highest, if not the highest, scores to receive. Not only did these scores earn me the academic award 'AP Scholar' and 'AP Scholar with Distinction', but they are also a testament to my commitment to achieving my absolute best; four of those exams were history-based, and I'm not even fond of history! Yet, I worked as hard as I could to pass those exams with flying colors. This utmost devotion of mine was rewarded when I graduated from high school, earning me a spot in the top 3 graduates of the class of 2025. It had been grueling work; countless papers written, events and celebrations missed in favor of studying, and of course, infinite amounts of practice. But it was all worth it to stand on that stage, knowing I had given it my all, and that work made me one of the best. Of course, I have continued my efforts through college, already earning Academic Honors in just a year. While I take great pride in my academic accomplishments, my extracurricular work is all the more proof of my commitment. I've joined various clubs, focusing on self-improvement through community service, provided through the National Honor Society. With them, I undertook over 200 hours of community service, bettering my neighborhood through highway cleanups and food pantry assembly. That work taught me the value of effort for a greater good, and that some force should always exist to aid others. I learned, most of all, that I desired to be that force, especially shown in my proudest work; my time with my high school's Swim Program. While I have been swimming since childhood, I never really enjoyed the activity, and complained excessively when I was forced to join the Varsity Team in my freshman year. I was so assured it would be a waste of breath, and nothing more than an exhausting extra task. How quickly I was humbled when the team raced circles around me, and my coach caught any corner-cutting tactics I attempted to employ. Never did that team permit less than my absolute best, but not out of demand for their own success! They knew I could achieve great heights, if only I pushed a little harder, so they pushed for me. Their encouragement brought out my absolute best, resulting in a 3-time championship run and a 4A District 100-meter backstroke record by the time I graduated! So moved by their influence, I extended their teachings to the middle school swim team. Every after-school afternoon was dedicated to that team, offering them my firsthand experience in competitive swimming. Weekends were spent volunteering for their competitions, timing their splits, and celebrating their wins right beside their lanes. I taught them the value of improvement, acceptance when we struggle and fall, and the importance of getting back up. They went on to win 3 championships of their own, and some even resolved to join the high school team as they grew. Those teams truly brought out the most incredible person in me. I have always wanted to achieve the very best. The best grades I could earn, the best awards I could gather, but most of all, the very best person I could be. Not just to make my parents proud, but to help create a world to be proud of all the same. By putting forth my finest, I encourage improvement in others, prompting a better effort towards growth, just as I did in my extracurricular activities. The finest education I can muster can not only help inform my peers but also land me a strong career, one that I can use to give back to my community via salary and experience. Should all of that still not be enough to help create a better tomorrow, I will simply try even harder, doing the best I can wherever I am able. That is all I've ever done, which is why I should be considered for this scholarship. My efforts to improve myself, others, and the space around me are resolute, a never-ending effort to become the best we all could be. I have worked tirelessly to achieve what I have, and I hope to continue my efforts with the financial aid I require. With your assistance, ever-looming college expenses could be eased, and my focus can remain on the hard work necessary to strengthen us all. Know your scholarship won't go to waste, not in my hands. For I promise to do the very best I can with it.

Inflamed, swollen knees, filled with fluid that grinded and burned against my joints. A failing pancreas, shaking my body and mind to the core with rising and falling blood sugar. These are the pains, the chronic illnesses, I have dealt with my entire life: Juvenile Arthritis and Type-2 Diabetes. Ailments that have kept me grounded, stuck to the nearest chair, and far from excessive sugars, for the slightest imbalance could send me crashing. Unrelatedly, would you care to know my chosen academic path? Culinary arts. A field where extensive hours of movement and all sorts of food tasting are required. Even before I chose this form of education, my illnesses consistently held me down in school. Gym classes were rituals of humiliation; my knees never bending fast enough to run like my friends. Every meal was accompanied by caution, having to visit the nurse for insulin injections before I could even ponder the menu. I was an outsider, chronic illness withholding me from the majority, both socially and educationally. I, and so many teachers, had to constantly focus on my shifting health, leaving me no time to be educated as consistently as my peers. At any moment that my knees might flare or sugars might crash, I'm whisked away from the classroom, unsure of when I might return. My college career threatened to be no different. My chefs, as kind as they are, cannot afford to stop educating an entire class at the whims of my ailments. If I cannot continue, I must remove myself, and life continues without me. But as anyone suffering from illnesses such as ours, stuck on the sidelines waiting for their bodies to cue them in, will tell you, it's thus: nobody wants to watch life pass them by. Especially not I. While they may shape my experiences, never will I allow my illnesses to define my existence again. Though my knees may ache, I refuse to stop standing at the kitchen counters. Though my body may shake, I will enjoy every last bite of the meals I create. I practice resilience, pushing my limits a little further each class. While the process may be slow, and there are times I still require rest, most importantly, I don't falter. I move as long as I'm able, partaking in joint-strengthening exercises to keep me standing tall. I work on my health and fitness every day, improving my blood sugar control so I can live without worry. I continue on, moving forward with life instead of allowing it to pass me by, which is exactly what receiving this scholarship will help me achieve. I want to live, truly live, following my goals and dreams without concern for forces outside my control, whether that be my chronic illnesses or college attendance costs. Just as with my Arthritis and Diabetes, I could build a 'resilience' against education expenses with this scholarship, overcoming the issue one dollar at a time. That's all one can do in the face of such challenges, tuition, illness, or otherwise; cross the hurdles as they come, and keep moving forward.

Have you ever baked literal lava? Like bubbling, molten, fiery-explosion lava in your oven? Technically, I haven't either, but I got plenty close once when making banana bread! You see, I've been in charge of all baking-based tasks for my family since I can remember. My mama has never been a fan of the kitchen, and unfortunately, my dad permanently parted the food mantle to me when he passed away. Of course, being seven at the time, the most baking I managed was with an Easy-Bake Oven. Yet, mixing those powdered treats with a little milk and butter was one of my happiest moments. The smell, the appearance, just feeling the batter cake around my hands (heaven knows I was messy), lit my heart with joy. But, most of all, what made me happiest was sharing those sugar-coated treats with my mama. Despite their mess or their cavity-inducing sweetness, she'd eat them all with the widest smile and tell me what a wonderful job I'd done. Whether or not that smile came from a genuine place, or the place of not wanting to hurt your child's feelings, nothing invigorated me more to get back to baking than her smile. Baking is my greatest joy, but the truest inspiration I find isn't the fun process or the tasty product; it's the joy I can bring to those who try my goods. That's what gets me baking. Hence, the molten lava banana bread. I'll find an excuse to bake for any occasion, as nothing is more joyous than an unexpected treat. This is especially the case for my mama's coworkers, whom she loves to celebrate with a baked good or two. Cookies, cakes, you name it! Or, on a ripe occasion, banana bread. We had just acquired a bundle of very ripe bananas, and around the evening, my mama requested the bread. I got started right away. I had school that morning and didn't want to stay up too late, so I hurried as much as I could. The batter was made, sent to the oven, but no bread rose. Instead, out came a burnt, caramelized, bubbling mess of liquid. In my rush, I grabbed powdered sugar instead of flour, and essentially created a volcano inside two loaf pans. The disappointment my mama displayed at the sight, I still remember to this day. She went off to bed sorrowful over the lack of bread. I couldn't let such a blunder stand, and we had just enough bananas to start again! So late into the night, I worked till those loaf pans were filled with actual banana bread, and didn't rest till around midnight. When my mama awoke to two wrapped banana breads ready to go, oh, how she smiled at me. According to her, that banana bread was sensational, and I'm inclined to agree. After all, this bread, which brought so much joy, is my favorite treat to bake. Come the future, I hope my baked goods will bring happiness to thousands of people, especially at the happiest place on earth. Disney resorts and restaurants present some of the most magical treats, those that dazzle and delight, and I aim to be a part of that magic. Using what I learned from that environment, I'll bring that same magic back to my home and loved ones, especially my mama. I'll make quality baked goods on par with the best professionals, all to see her smile, just beaming with joy. Because at the end of the day, her smile makes my little banana breads taste that much sweeter, all without powdered sugar!

Angled toward the sky, a camera would slowly pan down to a bustling street, where individuals, families, and couples walked up and down the sidewalk. Behind them stood a quaint little bakery, with wide windows on the storefront revealing the inner workings of the kitchen, and on the bake shop's front door hung the words ‘Order Up!’- the title of this film. With a bell's ring, the door swings open, bringing into view a pastry shop filled with a variety of customers. The camera pushes past the counter, towards the kitchen, and finally rests in the break room, a much quieter and calmer place than the rest of the building. There sits a lone woman at a break room table, a blood glucose monitor and testing kit lain out before her. The camera zooms in on her hands that display her prick, draw, and test the blood in her fingertips, the motions robotic and without any joy. Cutting to a complete shot of the woman and the table, all that can be heard is the soft beeps of the monitor calculating her blood sugar level. A chime of three beeps is heard as she picks up the monitor, nodding expectantly at the number calculated, for her to then place the monitor and all the other testing tools back into their little black case. With all said and done, she moved to stand but found herself unable, buckling at the knees and falling back into her chair. The woman hisses in pain, swinging her legs back and forth like a robot checking its rusty joints, and sighs as she sets the limbs back down. For a moment, she appears stuck, settling back into the chair beneath her and fixing her gaze onto the floor. It's dead quiet in the break room, the camera slowly panning out to signify its emptiness, only to pause at the sound of an oven's beep. The woman's head looks back up, now focused on the break room door, and for a moment, she leans in to listen. The camera focuses and zooms onto the door while the sound of an oven beep resounds, the ding of the bakery's door bell chimes, whisks clinks, oil bubbles, and all combine in a symphony of culinary noise. Cutting back to the woman, she smiles and, with a sharp breath, forces herself to stand. Her steps are limped towards the door, and before she exits, she reaches towards a coat rack right next to the entrance. A single white chef's jacket lays atop its hooks, which the woman takes and puts on. The uniform fits like a glove, and upon wearing it, the woman stands taller, the pain in her limp gone in a second. With the camera facing her back, the woman, now chef, opens the break room door to reveal the hustling, bustling, and bright kitchen, opposing the quiet and dark break room. The shot cuts to her face; any exhaustion and lethargy she displayed in the break room replaced with a brilliant smile. “Okay, let's do it.” She affirms herself before heading proudly into the kitchen. If it wasn't clear, this is my vision for the future, and that chef was me. To work in and possibly one day own a pastry shop is my dream come true- a dream I strive to achieve with every passing hour. There is no doubt that many obstacles will arise along this path, as there certainly have been already; being diagnosed with juvenile arthritis in my knees and type-2 diabetes in a career where one must eat and stand constantly is definitely a struggle. However, as my film shows, I will not let these challenges prevent me from my goals. There will be trials and tribulations, and there will be moments when I feel unable to rise from my seat, but I know this to be true, no matter how far into the future this all may be: I will always find the strength to stand and keep moving forward. The orders of life wait for no one, and what kind of chef would I be if I didn't respond to each challenge with ‘Order Up!’.

For a cube-shaped game, Minecraft has a stellar ability to think outside the box. Each new block, mob, and terrain creates a world of possibilities; every gaming experience is different, from peaceful cottage-making to conquering everything in sight. Anything can be done if you set your mind to it, the sky's the limit (quite literally). Within this game of endless options, I find my favorite aspect relates to none of those infinite choices. What I enjoy most is a function practically every game develops; the multiplayer ability! Minecraft’s multiplayer is so much more than that of other games, in my eyes nothing could replicate it. The interactions and friendships I’ve built in this multiplayer beat any other. Minecraft is an incredible space, both in the real game and in the servers of online hubs with mini-games. I’ve met mostly strangers in those mini-games, set with a random team for only one game. This hardly is an issue, one game is all others and I require! With a little dance of buttons and some friendly clicks, a friendship is built in an instant. Suddenly you are willing to sacrifice yourself to save another in a PVP match, share your resources in Bedwars, and guide your team to victory. I once made friends with an entire enemy team in a game of Bedwars! So much so that they let me stay at their base when my bed was destroyed, and even built me a little cabin to stay in! Such sweet interactions are telling of my online Minecraft experiences; connections are found and made in an instant, lingering long after the game ends. I still remember that little team and the little Christmas party they threw at their home base; multiplayer allowed me to meet them, and I couldn’t be more grateful. This pattern of friendship continues into the real game, multiplayer servers allowing me to meet with my best friends no matter the situation. My friends, unfortunately, live far away or can’t visit often. Online games have always been our refuge, none more so than Minecraft. This block game allowed us to reconnect, building our wild imaginations while comforting each other about the real world we had a little escape from. We dealt with our anger by making worlds of TNT and celebrated our joys with absolute nonsense builds. My friends and I even played those online mini-games, screaming at each other for help while we got destroyed in PVP. Those are some of my favorite memories, and without multiplayer, I never would have experienced them. Though multiplayer can be found in several games, Minecraft provides a setting of free expression and possibility that other video games lack. Anything can be built, battles of untold imagination can be fought, and beautiful ideas can be crafted. That kind of fantasy is an important comfort of mine, a safe place I always desired to reside within. My life often feels boring and mundane, moving from one motion to the next, so I rely on those little sparks of fiction to liven my day. My dreams are filled with dragons, magical potions, flying high above the clouds, and finding others to share in my dreams. Fantasy is hardly any fun without the ‘friends you made along the way’. After all, that’s why multiplayer in Minecraft resonates so deeply with me. No other game has put my dreams so close within reach. Only in Minecraft can I be in that wild fantasy, and only in Minecraft’s multiplayer function can I share the fantasy with my friends, including those I haven’t met yet.

Cooking has always been my chance at escapism, a way to visit a life much more exciting than my own. I was born with juvenile arthritis, a disease that affects my joints by making them stiff and painful to move. The illness is focused on my knees which limits my ability to move, and without the strength to bend those joints, I found myself stuck while others got to soar. Growing up I couldn't run around and play as easily as the other kids, I practically had the knee strength of a 70-year-old man at the age of 4, so indoor life was best suited to me. There was only so much a kid could do inside alone, lacking the funds for shiny new toys or things to keep me busy left me starved for entertainment and joy. What my family DID have was a TV, a movie rack, and a phone; those proved to be more than enough. With Disney movies, cartoons, video games, and so much more the world became my oyster when I was on wifi. But nothing, absolutely nothing, caught my eye more than those cooking shows on Food Network. From the color of the food to the way the ingredients were merely pronounced, I was obsessed with the culinary universe. Food was a universal connection, something I could always find in every film and every cartoon I enjoyed. Each piece of media tackled cuisine in its own manner, showing this array of creativity I had never considered before, and suddenly cooking opened a door in my childhood mind to a universe of fantasy. Making 'potions' in my bathroom from shower gel, cooking up mudpies for a monster, and concocting 'forgotten' recipes using spare ingredients from dinner and my fridge as I wasn't allowed to use the stove; the world was reborn anew under a banner of a knife and fork! As I got older, the culinary arts expanded from my escape from my small slice of reality to OURS instead. Just like me, my father was stuck inside as well; he was often sick and wheelchair-bound, making it easier for him to stay at home raising me. He couldn't do much without the help, but what he could do like no one else was cook. I loved nothing more than to help him create delicious meals, and I became his sous chef as I peeled potatoes for his culinary masterpiece. It would just be meatloaf and mashed potatoes, but for us, it was a royal feast. We struggled in the world outside our door, but in the kitchen, we could be superheroes. Now I desire nothing more than to cook and bake every day, getting the opportunity to make those wild dreams of my childhood come true and to create new ones with each meal and pastry. I'd share that opportunity with my community, every soul who struggles in this world and needs the escape of fantasy or dreams as I did. I would work till my hands reeked of sugar and salt, gathering the funds to support all those who need the extra hand to make their escapes a reality. Donations to charities helping the sick and poor, supporting activists fighting for our rights, or even affording my loved ones a well-deserved trip; no expense or strategy is too little. I want to help, but above all aim for a world where we no longer need that escapism, a world just as amazing as potions and superheroes. Where better to start than the career that showed me such a wonder in the first place?

When I was seven, my father passed away. For a long time, his health had been deteriorating and my mother, being the only one of the two able to work, struggled to finance all his medical needs. I wasn't any help either, for I was diagnosed with juvenile arthritis, which only added to our expenses. With no possible way to afford our medicines, doctors, and a house, we moved in with my grandpa and grandma to cut costs. Plenty of luxuries such as our house had to be renounced to afford our needs so my mama threw herself into her work to support us as much as possible, leaving her little time to spend with me or do much of anything else. So my father stepped up, though he couldn't stand at all after losing his leg to diabetes, to raise me. He cooked my meals, played with me, taught me my letters no matter how much I hated them, and learned every way to make me smile. He let me absolutely butcher painting his nails, became my sled as we rode down slides, and was always my favorite rival in water gun fights. He was my everything, no man alive today has ever made me as happy and filled with love as he did; my mother will tell you the same thing. But no amount of our joy would cure what ailed him, trust me I tried with all my might, and he passed all the same. Since that day, it was just my mama and I against the world. Suddenly she had so much to do: work her job, keep me fed, be on track with my medications, find time to be involved in my life beyond necessities, and battle away her grief long enough to do all these things. Parties, fun events out with friends, and just simple nights to herself, all surrendered in her pursuit to care for me. I like to think I'm a smart kid, and although my mom hid her emotions well I still knew she had spread herself and her heart thin. So, being the child I was, I tried to lighten her load with a simple remedy to the blues as if that's all the issue was: I made her smile. After spending so much time with my father I luckily inherited his sense of humor, and that humor made my mom laugh almost every time. Ridiculous reactions, dry humor, sarcastic or snarky remarks, nothing was off the table if it made the most important woman in my life happy. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, there was still so much to be done and face, but it brightened her day and mine all the more. I've grown a lot since those days, and a lot about me has changed, but one thing will always stay the same; my dedication to happiness. Making others smile, laugh, or even chuckle has evolved into what matters most in my life, especially for those closest to my heart. My dad's passing left my family in despair, and it was only in that gloom that I had the chance to acknowledge and experience joy's importance. I try to spread my humor, joy, and delight, everywhere I go, and I especially focus on making that happiness thrive between my mama and me. To this day that incredible woman still sacrifices and works herself to the bone, all in the hope of giving me a lively, comfortable, and joyous life, and I shall fight to do the same. Anything in my power to bring her the same happiness she has brought me will be utilized to the fullest. It can exhaust me at times, always trying to spread cheer, but her persistent strength in her work and her love will always inspire me to stay strong in my efforts. Having the privilege to be happy is not something everyone is afforded, unfortunately, the world still suffers horrible attacks on each other from military to discrimination. It's a harsh truth and one I will refuse to swallow. No matter one's beliefs, interests, financial or familial situation, everyone deserves happiness. My story may not be as impactful as others, and it may not be enough to qualify me to talk about what the world needs in any shape or form, but the message still rings true. So even if my account isn't enough, I will continue to "fight" for all those who suffer and sacrifice just as my mother had. I will do all I can with what I have, as my father had, to ensure a future filled with happiness for those who lack it in the present. I'll never give up no matter the obstacle, just as my parents showed me throughout their lives.