As the oldest son of 5 children in a Chinese family, it has always been my perceived duty to lead my siblings. However, in reality, this has rarely been the case, as each of us has our own strengths and weaknesses. I was never the best at academics, physical work, or technical activities, in which my same-aged quadruplet brothers all excelled. Additionally, I’ve always felt at a further disadvantage with my ADHD and dysgraphia. Despite these shortcomings, I am determined to use my unique life experiences as a quadruplet and help those in need. I am applying for scholarships because three of us quads will continue our college education next year, and one has enlisted in the Armed Forces and will be returning to college in the fall. We also have an older sister with special needs who needs constant care, and our mom is her primary caregiver and therefore does not work outside the home. Our dad is currently our only source of income, however this summer, I plan to work a part-time job and take classes at my local community college to offset costs and get ahead. My sister Megan, who has cerebral palsy and suffers from seizures, is a primary reason I am studying biomedical engineering at Baylor University. She is alive because of a medical device called a vagus nerve stimulator (VNS). During her younger years, she had uncontrolled seizures, but now her VNS reduces the severity of her seizures and often stops the seizure entirely. A few years ago, Megan had surgery to replace the battery in her VNS. For days after, she couldn’t sleep and soon was hospitalized due to a panic attack caused by insomnia and anxiety. I felt powerless to help her other than to be at her bedside with her as she struggled. After she recovered, I questioned how this situation could have been avoided: in the future, could surgery be eliminated with a rechargeable VNS? Or could the VNS be removable with a longer-lasting battery? These questions led me to biomedical engineering, and my first semester in college confirmed I had found the right field. With the advancements in technology today, anything could be possible if we put our minds to a task. Looking at other medical devices, like those that support the heart, the human's life headquarters, one can hope we can support those with cerebral palsy. In my engineering course, I learned about medical device design and human movement. Seeing how engineering can reduce pain, restore mobility, and improve daily life showed me that innovation is not abstract and that it directly affects families like mine. Your scholarship is more than just a means to fund my education; it's a stepping stone towards achieving my goals and making a difference in the world. It will provide me with resources to excel academically and the ability to create a positive change through my professional and creative efforts. By supporting my journey, you will help me contribute to a future where people like my sister can have safer, more effective medical technology. Thank you for considering my application for your scholarship.

As a quadruplet, my family has great financial need due to the fact that the four of us will be entering college at the same time, and some of us hope to attend schools out of state. Our father is the sole breadwinner of the house because our mom is the primary caregiver and guardian for our sister, who has special needs. In addition to my familial responsibilities, I have sought opportunities to serve others through the Special Blessings Ministry at my church. My older sister, Megan, was born with cerebral palsy and a learning disorder, to name a few of her conditions. Megan’s impact on my life is profound; in a world that may see her as a burden, I have learned from her patience, empathy, and the importance of looking beyond the surface- to love what others don’t understand, and to see beauty when the world looks away. For years, I have volunteered as a Sunday school buddy, assisting children with special needs during service. One of my favorite roles as a buddy has been participating with special needs students in our annual Special Blessings Christmas service’s Nativity scene. From the simple things, like playing catch with a student, to the great, like assisting in Special Blessings Communion services, my role as a student buddy has expanded my comfort zone and reinforced my commitment to creating supportive environments for people with differences. I strive to embody the message of Psalms 139:14, which states, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." In essence, this scholarship is more than just a means to fund my education; it's a stepping stone towards achieving my goals and making a difference in the world. It will provide me with the resources to excel academically and the ability to create a positive change through my professional and creative efforts. By supporting my educational journey, this scholarship will be instrumental in helping me open doors not only for myself but also for those less fortunate, aligning perfectly with my vision of using education and resources as tools for societal improvement.

There are 4 of me. Well, not quite. As a quadruplet, it certainly feels like that sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, being a quadruplet has its advantages, but being a “Tanaka Quad” before “Matthew” has always stung. My brothers and I did everything together, and even our Class A’s—our Scouting uniforms, covered in patches representing our achievements—were essentially interchangeable. It’s strange then, that I found my identity in Scouting. My freshman year, I became our troop’s Senior Patrol Leader (SPL), and I finally felt like my own person. I was no longer just another Tanaka Quad; the SPL patch on my shoulder represented my first step towards individuality. If you looked at my Class A today, you’d see a collection of patches, a collection of stories. These patches represent not just my achievements in Scouting, but my adventures as well. My Eagle Scout badge, perched proudly on my front left pocket, was the culmination of six years’ work. Navigating through my project gave me an appreciation for the intricate levels of the design process and shaped my understanding of the dedication required to bring a vision to life. Perhaps the most prominent facet of my identity represented on my Class A is my National Youth Leadership Training (NYLT) staff patch. From presenting on the diverse landscape of leadership in Scouting, to butchering John Denver’s “Country Roads” around a campfire, I’ve confidently given (and expanded) my definition of “110%.” It’s my honor and responsibility to “pay it forward” with every camp that I staff. Eventually, my Class A became my identity. The allure of recognition that resulted from my innocent pursuit of individuality tempted me to neglect the other important spheres of my life. My older sister, Megan, who has cerebral palsy and epilepsy, spent the last 2 months of the summer before my junior year in the ICU. Returning from a week of serving others at NYLT, it’s ironic that my first reaction to her situation was disappointment and annoyance; my summer was on hold indefinitely until her condition improved. My family and I took shifts staying 24 hours in the hospital with Megan. At first, it was hard for me to give up my time and plans, even after realizing the gravity of Megan’s need. However, while my summer was sacrificed, my days pushing Megan around in a wheelchair, feeding her, and helping her sleep helped me realize that the identity—the family—I had tried so hard to distinguish myself from was an integral part of me. Rather than pursue my individuality to dissociate myself as a quadruplet, I realized that being a quadruplet was simply another facet of it. My Class A also represents an aspect of who I am, but it isn’t my identity anymore. There isn’t a badge for the many nights I spent in the hospital, or the countless memories I share with my brothers. Not everything I am is on my uniform—some patches I wear on my heart.

Wake up to the sunlight peeking through the blinds, brush my teeth, eat the breakfast of champions, ride the bus with a bunch of rowdy tweens, struggle with alliterations and definitions in English, catch a ride to Scouts, eat rice and chicken for dinner, fall asleep late due to my brother’s snoring, repeat. I had an ordinary, mundane, and predictable life. The same people in the hallways, same tiny classrooms, and the same boring courses greeted me every long day. Everything was the same. As the oldest boy of 5 children in an Asian American family, it has always been my perceived duty to lead the others. But in reality, this has almost never been the case, as we each have our own strengths and weaknesses. I was never the best at academics, physical work, or technical activities, in which my same-aged quadruplet brothers all excelled. I’ve always felt at a further disadvantage with my ADHD and dysgraphia. However, in fifth grade, when I started playing the clarinet, we discovered that I was the most musically talented in the group. Using this unassuming power, I finally outperformed my brothers in an activity! What started as a potential hobby quickly became a burning passion that enveloped me. As if anything could surpass me and my new found talent! Time passed and classes became more challenging, with me caught somewhere in the middle. I can remember my parents’ excitement sitting me and my quadruplet brothers down at the dinner table and giving all of us an application to a high school science academy which they had received that Thursday morning. We all groaned, preferring to stay in the same environment we had been in since elementary school. I contemplated leaving our friends, classmates, and programs I was so familiar with, but deep inside, I knew there was more to the future than just my boring life, and eventually all four of us decided to apply. Admittance letters soon followed, and I chose to attend the academy. While in the academy, I joined the school’s band program. The band was known for its clarinetists, so I got the opportunity to learn from the best and was expected to uphold the standard of excellence brought upon me and my section. This responsibility of leading the musical charge for our entire program weighed heavily on me. Having to learn all the extra music and techniques in the span of a semester was exhausting beyond measure, I sacrificed sleep and personal electronic gaming time to practice and perfect my music. And my perseverance paid off, and by the end of my first year, I ranked highly among others in my region and received the highest honors for my solo. My hard work was rewarded, and I excitedly anticipated the years to come. Fast forward three years, and I’m now a respected senior in my band program. I’ve learned to juggle band with my intense school load. I strive to be on the marching field early, practicing my music and setting a good example for others. It is my duty to improve my section’s skills and to challenge others in the program to do better. I keep a positive attitude about individual members in my section with their differing abilities, because just like in my biological family, everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Through these experiences, I have transformed myself in many ways, growing from an ineffective leader of my quadruplet siblings, to a respected leader of a 170+ member band ensemble. I can’t wait to lead in a college of over twenty thousand students!

My introduction to marching band began with my admission into my school’s STEM academy. I am part of the clarinet section, a highly respected group among the whole ensemble. My leadership role in band has increased over the years. As a freshman I was a small, naïve member who struggled to get my feet in time and my instrument to respond on the sweltering hot field, contrary to our Christmas-themed show. Despite long hours and physically demanding practices, I secured a coveted marching spot. In my sophomore and junior years, I was chosen for prop management in addition to my regular marching duties. My job was to get the props on and off the field in a timely manner. As a senior, I campaigned to be a section leader for the clarinets. At first, I didn’t realize the magnitude of my decision. Soon, I was scared of what others thought about me. I had expressed my intentions only to my closest friends, who encouraged me to run, but I was still concerned about what the rest of my section thought about me. Was I still that confused, awkward freshman everyone looked down upon, or was I an emerging leader? My biggest hurdle to apply was making a required video of myself explaining what I would do for my section as one of its leaders. But I was determined to succeed, not only for myself, but also for my section. After a month of tedious work and advice from fellow members, I was elected into the position by demonstrating my abilities to lead. I am not just there to teach them how to march or play music, but I’m also there to help them grow as people in general, preparing for a life beyond high school. I constantly look for ways to improve myself and my section, even from my earliest days as a leader. I strongly believe that a mindset for excellence and willingness to learn are the only ways to succeed as a team. It is my responsibility to teach everyone the ways of marching band, including music, visuals, and marching techniques. Many of my underclassmen look up to me to teach them well, and most importantly be a role model for the band program as a whole.

Wake up to the sunlight peeking through the blinds, brush my teeth, eat the breakfast of champions, ride the bus with a bunch of rowdy tweens, struggle with alliterations and definitions in English, catch a ride to Scouts, eat rice and chicken for dinner, fall asleep late due to my brother’s snoring, repeat. I had an ordinary, mundane, and predictable life. The same people in the hallways, same tiny classrooms, and the same boring courses greeted me every long day. Everything was the same. As the oldest boy of 5 children in an Asian American family, it has always been my perceived duty to lead the others. But in reality, this has almost never been the case, as we each have our own strengths and weaknesses. I was never the best at academics, physical work, or technical activities, in which my same-aged quadruplet brothers all excelled. I’ve always felt at a further disadvantage with my ADHD and dysgraphia. However, in fifth grade, when I started playing the clarinet, we discovered that I was the most musically talented in the group. As if anything could surpass me and my new found talent! Time passed and classes became more challenging, with me caught somewhere in the middle. I can remember my parents’ excitement sitting me and my quadruplet brothers down at the dinner table and giving all of us an application to a high school science academy which they had received that Thursday morning. We all groaned, preferring to stay in the same environment we had been in since elementary school. I contemplated leaving our friends, classmates, and programs I was so familiar with, but deep inside, I knew there was more to the future than just my boring life, and eventually all four of us decided to apply. Admittance letters soon followed, and I chose to attend the academy. While in the academy, I joined the school’s band program. The band was known for its clarinetists, so I got the opportunity to learn from the best and was expected to uphold the standard of excellence brought upon me and my section. This responsibility of leading the musical charge for our entire program weighed heavily on me. Having to learn all the extra music and techniques in the span of a semester was exhausting beyond measure, I sacrificed sleep and personal electronic gaming time to practice and perfect my music. And my perseverance paid off, and by the end of my first year, I ranked highly among others in my region and received the highest honors for my solo. My hard work was rewarded, and I excitedly anticipated the years to come. Fast forward three years, and I’m now a respected senior in my band program. I’ve learned to juggle band with my intense school load. I strive to be on the marching field early, practicing my music and setting a good example for others. As a leader of my esteemed clarinet section, I plan what we will accomplish over the year and how to achieve it. It is my duty to improve my section’s skills and to challenge others in the program to do better. I keep a positive attitude about individual members in my section with their differing abilities, because just like in my biological family, everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Through these experiences, I have transformed myself in many ways, growing from an ineffective leader of my quadruplet siblings, to a respected leader of a 170+ member band ensemble. I can’t wait to lead in a college of over twenty thousand students!

My introduction to marching band began with my admission into my school’s STEM academy. I am part of the clarinet section, a highly respected group among the whole ensemble. My leadership role in band has increased over the years. As a freshman I was a small, naïve member who struggled to get my feet in time and my instrument to respond on the sweltering hot field, contrary to our Christmas-themed show. Despite long hours and physically demanding practices, I secured a coveted marching spot. In my sophomore and junior years, I was chosen for prop management in addition to my regular marching duties. My job was to get the props on and off the field in a timely manner. As a senior, I campaigned to be a section leader for the clarinets. At first, I didn’t realize the magnitude of my decision. Soon, I was scared of what others thought about me. I had expressed my intentions only to my closest friends, who encouraged me to run, but I was still concerned about what the rest of my section thought about me. Was I still that confused, awkward freshman everyone looked down upon, or was I an emerging leader? My biggest hurdle to apply was making a required video of myself explaining what I would do for my section as one of its leaders. But I was determined to succeed, not only for myself, but also for my section. After a month of tedious work and advice from fellow members, I was elected into the position by demonstrating my abilities to lead. I am not just there to teach them how to march or play music, but I’m also there to help them grow as people in general, preparing for a life beyond high school. I constantly look for ways to improve myself and my section, even from my earliest days as a leader. I strongly believe that a mindset for excellence and willingness to learn are the only ways to succeed as a team. It is my responsibility to teach everyone the ways of marching band, including music, visuals, and marching techniques. Many of my underclassmen look up to me to teach them well, and most importantly be a role model for the band program as a whole.

Coming out of my high school sophomore year, things had been going pretty well. I had just earned superior ratings for both my solo and ensemble performances in band, and completed my Eagle Scout project. “This school year has gone well. I can’t wait for summer.” That summer held something that my whole family would never forget. My sister, who has epilepsy, among other conditions, had a vagus nerve stimulation (VNS) replacement soon after school went out. It was normal for her to be scared before a surgery, as she had always been partially aware of what happened to her during such a procedure. What wasn’t normal, was after. She was crying and overly sad whenever we talked to her. She kept repeating how she was going to die and leave the rest of the family. Naturally, this creeped us all out. This went on for 3 days, before a mental breakdown happened and she was rushed to the hospital. While in the hospital, she went through numerous medications and tests to assist her path to normalcy. Many times, a parent and a child would stay overnight with her in her room, sacrificing sleep and energy for her improvement. It took one long month for her to be discharged from the hospital, and everyone took a sigh of relief as she had gotten better at last. Hopefully, this never happens again, and what we know now is to be generous with her ticks of moodiness and assist her in any way possible. The amount of time my mother has input on me and my family has no bounds. Time and time again, this person has given 17 years of her mid life to provide for me. As the legal guardian of five wild children, one with epilepsy and cerebral palsy, she has the patience of a lifetime. She kindly corrects where we mess up, makes us quite literally have food on the table, and brings us up to currency when there is a discrepancy in communication. If there was one person who has impacted me the most in my life, that would be my mom. My mom has cared for me and my four other siblings, and having to juggle and keep track of all of us is no small feat. At times when I've about to quit, she tended to me and was my biggest cheerleader. Countless times she has had to quell our squabbling and bickering over simple things, a mystique we still can’t get. Over time, we have learned some common courtesy and decency when handling discrepancies, and most of the time, my mom has taught us to behave that way. My mom has been an extremely valuable person over the years as a mentor, caregiver, and role model to me. She has led me through tough conflicts among the family and counseled me in my darkest times. If there was one person who has impacted me the most in my life, that would be my mom.

Wake up to the sunlight peeking through the blinds, brush my teeth, eat the breakfast of champions every day of the week, ride the bus with a bunch of rowdy tweens, struggle with alliterations and definitions in English, surpass my peers in band, catch a ride to Scouts, eat rice and chicken for dinner, fall asleep late due to my brother’s snoring. I had an ordinary, mundane, and comforting life. The same people in the hallways, same tiny band hall, and the same boring classes greeted me every long day. Everything was the same. As the oldest boy of 5 children in an Asian American family, it has always been my perceived duty to lead the others. But in reality, this has almost never been the case, as everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. I was never the best at academics, physical work, or technical activities, in which my brothers all excelled in. However, come fifth grade, we soon discovered that I was the most musically talented in the group. Using this unassuming power, I could finally outperform my brothers in an activity. What started as a potential hobby quickly became a burning passion that enveloped me entirely. As if anything could surpass me and my new found talent! The email came one random Thursday evening. That one email would change the trajectory of my schooling career. It was 2020, right in the middle of the pandemic. I can remember my parents’ excitement sitting me and my quadruplet brothers at the dinner table, and giving all of us an application to a high school science academy. We all groaned, preferring to stay in the same environment we had been in since elementary school. I contemplated about leaving our friends, classmates, and programs I was so familiar with, but deep inside, I knew there was more to the future than just my boring life, and eventually all four of us signed up for the application process. Early on, I was intimidated by who seemed to be my competition. I was competing against the brightest students from around the district for a spot in an academy thirty minutes away from my zoned high school. Amidst these circumstances, I managed to surpass the testing stage and receive an interview from a teacher. My interviewer embraced the fact that all four of us same-aged boys were interested in different careers and pathways. This helped me glimpse into what the teachers from this academy were like. When all four of us were mailed letters of acceptance, we were all happy that the application was finished and excited for the new atmosphere we were entering. School came soon after and we were thrust into a new, unexpected domain. Neither the building nor the students themselves appealed to me, and I struggled to concentrate and fit in. To make matters worse, the ninth grade campus, where most of my classes were, had a putrid smell and was cramped everywhere I went. It almost seemed as if the students were here just for the social networking and meals. My first attempt at joining a group was in band camp the first week of summer. All of us clarinetists were stuck in a dinky classroom in the beginning of June. Through long hours, we managed to learn our music for our year’s show. “Remember to keep your posture up and your tones sharp,” my section leader stated as we improved into better musicians. Through this, I learned to trust my peers and persevere through hard times. Even in the darkest hours, the dawn will soon be here.