Hospitality is a vast field that allows people, even spontaneous ones like me, to pursue many paths in comparison to others. My passion for hospitality is mainly rooted in my love for helping and interacting with others. Once I finish my necessary education, I'll use my knowledge and what I've gathered from communicating in big settings to make people's experience more comfortable. Just like the "Invictus" poem, no matter what may come, my head will remain unbowed because what drives me is my passion for assisting people and making an impact on how they view places. Through good service and attention I could impact people from all around the world by helping both the businesses I'd work for and allowing multi-cultural people to feel safe and comfortable while in my care. Even doing the simplest of things can help a person feel more welcome and human. I envision using my passion to grow my community network within my team and customers alike. I want to build a community that can easily communicate and bond to strengthen both friendship and teamwork. I'd also like to build relationships that expand from just my hospitality team, I'd like to bond with other groups such as the delivery, entertainment, and transportation teams. I personally find that the world can improve and be such a positive place but as individuals in order to see that, we must practice it ourselves in our daily lives. Financially, attracting more customers, whether existing or new, can help the company I work for prosper and potentially grow, helping more passionate people get into the world of hospitality. Environmentally, once I establish good relationships with various groups, we could plan a way to make things more sustainable in order to help our planet. In this way, we could also accommodate people who specifically search for environmentally friendly places. This would increase our appeal as a team. This scholarship would help me cover my tuition as I plan to study abroad since it's a more economical decision for my circumstances.

We stared at the total while the cashier looked at us offensively in the line of the grocery store, we were always constantly concerned. My name is Stacie Martinez, and my mother made the dangerous journey of coming to the US to seek peace and prosperity from Mexico. My mother has worked hard throughout her life, she comes from an environment of manipulation, exploitation, and violence. She arrived knowing nothing, not the language, culture, or even a singular person to accommodate her. She brought herself up from nothing to now having the stability she dreamed of, that same stability I strive to have today. My mother realised that if she worked both hard and smart, everyone could truly live a peaceful life. She taught me to be determined in whatever I do, and once I set a goal I must pursue it to the end and never dispirit myself, or else I have lost to myself. Secondly, through her actions, she has shown me that what matters most in this world is to live happily, even if happiness seems unattainable. After a long day of work, she always tells me, "Even if I'm tired or have a sad day, I love my job and you should too. Don't work to survive, work to live.". She has taught me also to be orderly and clean because, in most professional workspaces, you cannot be casual and treat it as any other affair. She always tells me I must be respectful, even if others around me aren't, it shows mannerisms and a calm, cool head is always best. Even though we have constant arguments, I see the results of her hard work, from the most obvious to the "simplest" of actions. For example, the scars and cuts from carrying and delivering car parts every day, those little cuts that represent dedication and familial love. I saw all the effort when she gave me money to buy a shirt I wanted last week even as the gas prices skyrocketed, and the trip to the grocer where I was allowed to get my favourite juice, even if it was outside our original budget. All these actions embody the values she has taught me throughout my life. As I'm nearing graduation, my plan for college has become clearer and I have my goals constantly in my mind, fiercely pursuing higher education. She came all alone with no help, even from my father who abandoned us, she was homeless two weeks after giving birth. Her struggle has made her the talented, resilient human being she is today and with those values instilled in me, I practice them every day to become a better human being, daughter, and student.

My name is Stacie, yes, not Stacy. It was given to me by my father while in the delivery room. My name affected the entirety of my childhood. In modern media, it's well-known that "Stacy's" (no not the pita chips) are twits, blonde, and completely ridiculed. Although I'm the opposite, it still hurt to know that people did have that mindset, for a very long time, years I'd say, I wanted a basic name like Vanessa, oh how I adored it. My mother always said my name stood for (probably) one of my father's lovers (weird) and that didn't help my insecurity. After all, who wants that as an origin story to their name? I truly believed any name was better than Stacie, I hated everything about it, the spelling, the tone it was always spoken in; it was just pure frustration, child angst (does that exist?) if you will. For much of my life, I despised my name but now I feel indifferent about it. I don't hate it anymore, I've learned to get over it and move on, in simple words, I grew up. My name is orally, very common, the spelling is truly unique though. I would not be me without my name, and even though I don't have my father to ask him about the true origin of my name, I don't mind. I've never analyzed my name, except one day I was at the laundromat where my curiosity led to me searching for the definition of my name. My name is supposedly of English origin where it means "resurrection"; I thought it was cool since I'm a firm believer in resurrection/rebirth. I may not be the biggest fan of my name but I did learn to appreciate it. Especially since not many Hispanic girls are named Stacie, I've heard Ashley or Emily but never my name, maybe it's just me. My name is important because it's the foundation, the origin of my story. Before I was me I was just Stacie, a little newborn with the whole world ahead of her. The first thing I knew about myself was my name, which is the figurative door to my identity, who I truly am. Also, a vague memory about my name is when my mom and I were designing a logo. This logo was made out of boredom but we share the same initials, SM, so we were trying (emphasis on the trying) to do something Chanel-like. We tried to make the S's clash in an elegant way where it would look mind-blowing. Long story short, it did not survive. It looked like when pasta is mixed, this messy clash that looked cheap (pasta isn't referenced here, by the way, I love pasta) and just bad (again, no reference). Another memory or collection of memories I should say are my school awards. Every year, I strive to earn at least one award, which so far, hasn't led to self-disappointment. There I am, sitting in the auditorium, waiting anxiously for my name to be called and the whole awkward walking to the stage. The rush of both excitement and anxiety just makes me feel bubbly. I also remember my 10th-grade honor roll, I got the 3.0 award, I was disappointed only because I had earned a 3.6 which meant a higher award. In the end, when my name wasn't called for that award I felt a piece of my soul shatter and I felt awful. My name is the title of my life, the ups, and downs, from my best to my worst, it's my spirit.