Growing up, I watched my mother build a business while raising my sister and me on her own. I did not understand the word “entrepreneurship” then. I only understood what I saw: an immigrant mother creating her own jewelry business as a way to support our family, even when there was no guarantee her work would succeed. As I got older, I began helping her small business more directly. I worked on its website, social media, messaging, and customer experience. At first, I thought marketing was mainly about making a business look appealing. But when I began helping her reorganize the brand and engage with customers, I saw the difference strategy could make. She was not just selling jewelry; she was creating pieces that represented meaningful milestones in people’s lives, from engagements and anniversaries to lasting family traditions. That experience made me feel useful in a way I had not felt before. I was not completing an assignment with one correct answer. I was identifying a real problem, determining what was missing, and creating something that could help a business grow. When creating online videos for the brand, I did not only want to advertise its products, instead I wanted to understand why people connected with certain ideas and use that knowledge to build its brand to provide a lasting experience. That is why I chose to study business, specifically brand management and marketing. I later discovered that I could apply those skills to an idea of my own. Through Northeastern’s competitive Women’s Interdisciplinary Society of Entrepreneurship program, I developed KilnClean, a plant-based spray bottle designed to sanitize, deodorize, and lightly scent activewear after workouts. I created it after recognizing a problem in my own routine as an active woman: constantly washing activewear was time-consuming, environmentally unsustainable, and expensive over time. Additionally, many odor-masking sprays contained harsh chemicals, often creating rashes on peoples skin. KilnClean was designed as a convenient, portable, and sustainable plant-based solution that eliminates approximately 90% of odor-causing bacteria. I developed the brand and value proposition, and presented it to more than 50 student founders and a panel of investors. The concept advanced to the finalist round, where I received an award that recognized my contribution and achievement in the program. Standing in front of accomplished business professionals was intimidating, but their challenging questions and honest feedback changed how I viewed my potential. I realized they were critical because they saw value in my idea and wanted me to strengthen it. Their feedback helped me recognize my ability to take a problem from everyday life and develop a practical solution that could improve someone’s routine. In that moment, I began to see how I could create value for others through business, just as my mother’s business created opportunity and stability for our family. Earning my business degree will teach me how to understand consumers, position products, manage brands, and build strategies that turn ideas into sustainable businesses. I will use those skills to pursue a career in brand management and marketing before eventually creating health and wellness brands of my own. My mother proved that a business could bring stability to our family; my degree will prepare me to build businesses that improve the lives of others in a similar way..

I don't believe women's empowerment starts when you become successful. I think it starts when you choose to raise your hand, share an idea, and help someone else believe they can do the same. Throughout college, I've intentionally put myself in environments where women are leading businesses, building companies, and challenging each other to think bigger. Every opportunity I've pursued has reinforced one belief: when women support one another, everyone grows. One experience that changed me was joining Northeastern's Women's Interdisciplinary Society of Entrepreneurship (WISE). After attending one of their entrepreneurship events, I joined the WeBuild startup cohort and helped develop KilnClean, a wellness-focused product designed to sanitize and refresh activewear. I worked on the strategy and research of the brand alongside my team before presenting our idea to more than 50 founders, entrepreneurs, and startup leaders. Out of more than 30 competitors, our team was selected as one of only three finalists. What I took out of this experience was hearing experienced women founders challenge my ideas, encourage my thinking, and show me that my voice belonged in those rooms. That experience gave me the confidence to keep pursuing entrepreneurship and to stop waiting until I felt "ready." I've also had the opportunity to create spaces where others feel seen. As the founder and president of my high school's Multicultural Club, I led a team of student officers to build a community where students could celebrate their identities and learn from one another. Many of our members were young women who had never taken on leadership roles or spoken about their backgrounds before. I wanted to give them the opportunity to make change in our high school. Through workshops, cultural events, and discussions, I watched members become more confident sharing their stories and stepping into leadership themselves. Seeing students who once sat quietly begin leading conversations reminded me that empowerment often starts with simply giving someone a place where they feel they belong. Today, that same mindset drives everything I do. Whether I'm networking with female founders, helping women-led businesses grow through branding and marketing, or learning from entrepreneurs who have built companies from the ground up, I want to be someone who opens doors for others. My goal is to build communities where more women feel confident taking risks, sharing ideas, and creating businesses of their own. If another young woman leaves a conversation with me believing she can do something she once thought was out of reach, then I've made the kind of impact that matters most.

Starting college feels like carrying my family's dreams in one hand and my own ambitions in the other. I recognize that it is both a privilege and responsibility entering this new chapter in my life. While I am the first in my family to enter college, I refuse to be the last. Being a first-generation student means allowing myself to embrace challenges that come my way. There's no parent to explain how to approach exams, professors, or the college life. Yet, I view these setbacks as an opportunity to prove to myself that I can create my own path and seek for answers that will not only guide me but also future generations who search for the same clarity. Challenges have shaped me more than they’ve stopped me. Teaching English to an earthquake survivor from Turkey made me realize that education is far more than acquiring knowledge, it empowers and gives voices to those who are silenced the most. After two summers full of lessons, her English significantly improved and she gained the confidence to succeed in her journalism class in college, which ultimately helped her shape her own future, proving that knowledge is power. My dream is to use business as a force of healing, rather than just income. Growing up, I witnessed my sister’s struggle with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety. These challenges did not just affect her; they reshaped my entire family’s life. This revealed the shocking truth about the healthcare system- it prioritized money and convenience over people’s actual needs. Therapy appointments were rushed, medications were hard to afford and financial pressures only made the burden heavier. That experience left me determined to pursue a path where business would be led by true compassion and change for others. I want to build a career in health-focused entrepreneurship, creating products and services that make care not only more affordable but also more accessible and human-centered. I yearned to address the difficult situations real families face every day. From creating a prototype to combat rising rates of household foodborne illness in a DECA competition that advanced to the state level, to serving as president of a Youth Community Service group for four years—where I led clothing drives and organized meal-packing events for families in need—I have been dedicated to making a difference. I look forward to carrying this same passion and drive into my college journey. As a low-income, first-generation student, this scholarship would allow me to pursue my college education while exploring my business skills. It would give me the financial freedom to focus on creating a lasting impact in my community, whether that be hosting events or connecting with others to raise awareness about global issues. It would also give me incredible support to purchase expensive textbooks and other essential resources required for my studies. Most importantly, it would bring me closer to my goal of ensuring that no family has to endure the same tragedies mine once did- to give new hope and strength.

I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter not just because of her talent, but because of the way she balances authenticity, growth, and creativity in her career. From her early roles on television to her music, Sabrina has always shown a dedication to expressing herself honestly, which is something I deeply admire and connect with. In a world that constantly pressures teens to fit into certain molds, she reminds me that it’s possible to carve your own path while staying true to who you are. Her music has had a profound impact on me personally. Songs like Skin and Sue Me are empowering anthems about self-confidence, setting boundaries, and embracing your individuality. When I’ve faced moments of self-doubt—whether trying to lead my multicultural club, mentor younger students, or tackle challenging projects in school—her lyrics remind me that it’s okay to stand up for myself and own my voice. Sabrina’s music has given me a soundtrack for navigating both the fun and the complicated sides of being a teenager. Beyond her music, I’m inspired by her career choices. Sabrina’s willingness to take risks, explore different roles, and evolve as an artist shows me the value of pursuing multiple passions and not being afraid of change. Watching her transition from Disney Channel roles to a serious music career taught me that growth often comes from stepping out of your comfort zone and embracing challenges, even when it feels uncertain. Her career also impacts the way I approach leadership and creativity. Whether it’s organizing events for my Youth Community Service group, coordinating cultural showcases, or mentoring students, I try to channel the same energy she brings—passionate, authentic, and intentional. She’s a reminder that success isn’t just about talent—it’s about consistency, resilience, and being true to yourself. Ultimately, I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because she inspires me to embrace my individuality, face challenges with confidence, and pursue my passions with dedication. Her music, artistry, and authenticity have not only entertained me but also shaped the way I approach life, creativity, and leadership.

A lyric from Olivia Rodrigo’s GUTS that deeply resonates with me is: "I’ve got two faces, blurry and clear, one I show and one I fear." This lyric captures the complicated reality of adolescence—the tension between who you are inside and the version of yourself you present to the world. Teen years are a time of growth, self-discovery, and, often, insecurity. I’ve experienced that tension firsthand. On the outside, I may appear confident and organized—running my multicultural club, leading community service projects, and balancing schoolwork—but internally, I often face with fear, doubt, and the pressure of living up to expectations. Like Olivia’s lyric, I sometimes feel as if there’s a hidden side of me that I keep private, unsure if anyone would understand or accept it. The lyric also resonates with my experiences mentoring others. Teaching English to an earthquake survivor in Turkey, for example, required me to show patience, confidence, and clarity. Yet behind the screen, I sometimes doubted my own ability to make an impact. I worried I wasn’t doing enough, that I might fail the person I was trying to help. That duality—showing one face while wrestling with fear behind the scenes—is exactly what Olivia encapsulates. Adolescence, for me, has been a series of moments like this: stepping into responsibilities that feel bigger than myself, facing uncertainty, and learning to trust that I can rise to the challenge. Moreover, the lyric reflects the universal struggle of identity in adolescence. High school can feel like a stage, with constant comparisons and judgments from peers. For me, being Turkish and Jewish in a diverse community sometimes felt like trying to navigate two identities simultaneously. Olivia’s words validate that it’s normal to have multiple facets of yourself, and that the “blurred” parts aren’t weaknesses—they’re opportunities to understand yourself more deeply. Ultimately, this lyric resonates because it acknowledges the messy, contradictory nature of growing up. Adolescence isn’t a straight path; it’s full of highs and lows, self-doubt, and moments of courage. Listening to GUTS, I am reminded that everyone wrestles with the parts of themselves they fear others won’t understand, and that vulnerability can be a source of strength. It inspires me to embrace both faces—the confident one I show and the uncertain one I sometimes hide—and to use them to connect with others, whether through leadership, mentorship, or friendships. Olivia’s words are a powerful reminder that growing up is about learning to be authentic, even when it feels scary, and that the challenges of adolescence are part of what shapes resilience, empathy, and self-awareness.

I’ve been a fan of Wicked for as long as I can remember, and it’s not just because of the music or the spectacle—though I could listen to “Defying Gravity” on repeat forever. It’s the story itself that grips me: a tale of friendship, misunderstanding, and the courage to embrace who you truly are. Growing up, I often felt like I was balancing multiple identities—trying to honor my family’s traditions while navigating my own ambitions and passions. In a way, I saw pieces of myself in Elphaba: misunderstood, ambitious, and constantly questioning the world around her. What makes Wicked unforgettable for me is how it combines humor, heart, and rebellion. The witty exchanges between Elphaba and Glinda always make me laugh, but the story never shies away from the heavier moments—the prejudice, the judgment, the times when being yourself feels impossible. Watching Elphaba rise above it all reminds me that even when life feels unfair or lonely, embracing your uniqueness is not just brave—it’s necessary. I also love how Wicked challenges perspective. It’s a story about empathy, about realizing that people—and situations—aren’t always what they seem. In many ways, it reminds me of the work I’ve done in my multicultural club and community service projects: learning to listen, understand, and celebrate differences. It’s a musical, yes, but it’s also a lesson in humanity and compassion. Finally, Wicked is pure joy. The music lifts me, the energy of the story excites me, and every time I watch or listen, I’m reminded that courage, friendship, and a little bit of magic can change everything. That’s why I’m a fan—not just of the show, but of what it inspires in me: to be brave, to be bold, and, like Elphaba, to defy gravity every single day.

When I thought about designing a brand-new Love Island challenge, I wanted something that wasn’t just entertaining, but also personal to me and meaningful for the Islanders and the audience. I’ve always been someone who loves bringing people together—whether through multicultural showcases, youth service projects, or even just fun moments with friends—and I wanted to create a challenge that does the same in the villa. My idea blends creativity, teamwork, and personality, while giving Islanders the chance to connect more deeply in a way that feels both playful and heartfelt. Building on my love for connecting people and celebrating individuality, I created a challenge called “Culture Connect.” It’s designed to help Islanders learn about each other in fun, unexpected ways—beyond surface-level conversation. The game is split into three interactive rounds, each encouraging Islanders to share a piece of their story, get creative, and laugh together while forming real connections. Round 1 is called the "Quick Fire Traditions" where islanders spin a Culture Wheel, which lands on categories like Food, Music, Language, Family, Travel, Dance, or Celebration. They then share something from their life or heritage that fits the category—like a family recipe, a childhood memory, or a special holiday tradition. Round 2 is called "The Translation Test" where each islander teaches their partner a phrase from their native language, slang, or a meaningful family saying. Then, using charades-style gestures, their partner acts it out while the rest of the villa tries to guess the meaning. This round brings out each islanders humor, vulnerability, and teamwork skills. Round 3 is called the "Mix & Match Challenge" where islanders are given mystery props connected to different cultures—drums, scarves, spices, or costume pieces—and must collaborate to create a short skit, dance, or mini “celebration” that fuses their worlds together. The result is chaotic, hilarious, and full of personality. This challenge is personal to me because it reflects my own values: celebrating diversity, creating connection, and finding joy in learning about others. Growing up Turkish and Jewish, I’ve always appreciated how sharing traditions and stories brings people closer. Just like leading my multicultural club or when mentoring others in my community service group, I’ve seen firsthand how curiosity, humor, and authenticity can transform a group into a community. For the islanders, Culture Connect encourages them the chance to be playful, vulnerable, and creative, while learning something meaningful about each other. It sparks genuine interactions, memorable laughter, and unexpected emotional moments, making the villa feel more dynamic and inclusive. For the audience, it’s equally engaging. Fans get to see Islanders in their authentic moments: struggling to pronounce a phrase, attempting a new dance, or laughing at a quirky cultural tradition. It’s the perfect mix of entertainment, heart, and relatability, creating moments that will have viewers laughing, connecting, and even learning a thing or two themselves. Ultimately, Culture Connect would be a success because it blends fun, creativity, and meaningful interaction. It’s a challenge that celebrates individuality, encourages connection, and leaves both Islanders and viewers with unforgettable memories. By combining humor, culture, and heart, it transforms the typical villa game into something uniquely enriching, and ensures that the experience is as impactful as it is entertaining.

When I think about Taylor Swift’s twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, and the question of which performance of hers has moved me most, my mind immediately goes to her Eras Tour. Not just because of the spectacle—the dazzling lights, the carefully curated set lists, the endless standing ovations—but because of what it represents: resilience, reinvention, and the courage to stand before the world while constantly evolving. The performance that resonates with me most is her intimate, acoustic sets in the middle of the stadium chaos. When she sits with her guitar or at the piano, she strips away the elaborate visuals and presents only herself and her voice. That moment reminds me of my own journey—when I had to strip away doubt, pressure, and uncertainty, and simply trust that I was enough to take the next step forward. For me, that moment mirrors when I founded my school’s multicultural club. At first, I felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me: Would anyone care? Would people judge? Would the effort even matter? Just as Swift leans into vulnerability on stage—knowing the world is watching—I had to embrace my own vulnerability as I stood in front of my peers and asked them to join me in creating something new. Like her acoustic performances, those early meetings weren’t glamorous. They were quiet and deeply personal. But they became the most meaningful, because they reminded me that impact doesn’t come from success—it comes from authenticity. I also see parallels to when I mentored younger students and taught English to an earthquake survivor in Turkey. Swift’s performances demonstrate that even in a career filled with global stages and millions of fans, the moments that matter most are often the ones where you connect directly with someone. Sitting in front of my computer screen, helping a survivor with her English homework, I felt that same intimacy and the possibility of transformation. What moves me most about Swift’s performances is not perfection but presence. She shows that you don’t need to have every answer, every costume change, or every detail perfectly rehearsed—you just need the courage to show up, to keep singing, and to let people in. That is exactly how I approach my own life. Often, uncertainty has weighed heavily on me, but like Swift, I’ve found that step-by-step, I can carve out my own answers and share them with others who seek the same. In the end, Swift’s most powerful performance isn’t about the music—it’s about her willingness to be seen as she is. That is what inspires me most, and that is what I try to bring to every challenge I take on: the courage to show up, to speak authentically, and to leave something meaningful behind.

From the moment my sister was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety, my family quickly realized how unreliable the support systems for mental health actually were. We were introduced to a world full of expensive therapy appointments, medications we could barely afford, and insurance plans that never truly covered what we needed. We tried everything—researching late into the night, attending countless appointments, adjusting our lives around her needs—but I still found myself asking: How can someone suffer so deeply even when we are doing everything we can? As I watched my sister’s struggle's, that question became the start of a much bigger realization for me: without true passion, business and healthcare lose their power to heal and change lives. Soon, my curiosity grew into something I couldn’t ignore and I began to wonder whether a business led by compassion instead of profit could be the very solution we were searching for. When I joined DECA, a business competition amongst young teens, I had the chance to explore that question in action. With my teammates, I designed a cutting board made of half-thaw, half-hard plastic to address the growing rates of bacterial infections from poor kitchen sanitation. The idea was simple but deeply personal because it was a growing issue that was never properly addressed, yet caused millions to face serious health consequences. I’d seen firsthand how chaotic, high-stress households—like mine during my sister’s most difficult periods—could lead to rushed meal prep and unsafe food preparation. This not only harmed people's health but also forced them to face medical burdens. As a team, we researched foodborne illnesses, created a physical prototype, and wrote a ten-page report on our findings. The more I researched, the more I realized that innovation, when it truly understands people’s needs, can protect health before it’s ever put at risk. When our idea advanced to the state level, it felt like proof of what I had always believed: business is more than transactions—it can save lives. Since then, my goals have been clear. I want to study business with a focus on health innovation and entrepreneurship. My dream is to launch a company that creates affordable, accessible mental health products and services, supporting other households in moments of crisis. I want to build something that gives people what my family wasn’t able to have in their worst moments — a system that offers genuine guidance and reassurance that they’re not alone. My community service work has been an extension of this mission. As president of my town’s Youth Community Service group, I’ve led clothing drives, organized meal-packing events, and coordinated visits to nursing homes, where I spent hours talking with lonely residents. Those moments taught me that connection can be as vital as any medicine. Every time I brightened someone else's day, I'd hold onto the hope that one day, that same light will find its way back to my sister. My sister's diagnosis has shaped not just my goals, but my view of the world. It taught me that behind every business plan are human lives that are worth protecting. I believe the future belongs to entrepreneurs who lead with both heart and innovation, and I’m ready to be one of them because I’ve seen how powerful change can be when it’s rooted with true purpose and care.

I learned about finances through fear, not a textbook. When my sister was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and chronic anxiety, my family wasn't just affected emotionally—they were abused financially. Doctors, prescriptions, therapy sessions, unexpected hospital stays—they added up quickly. My parents, immigrants from Turkey, suddenly faced a cruel reality: emotional well-being costs money, and lots of it. We weren’t irresponsible. We never spent beyond selfish needs. But we also didn’t know how to plan for an emergency like this. We lacked the tools. We lacked financial literacy. That was the first time I questioned why something so vital—how to manage money—wasn’t taught in school. I watched my parents struggle not because they didn’t work hard, but because they didn’t have the knowledge to protect what they earned. It felt like we were being punished for not knowing a language we were never taught. I promised myself I’d learn that language, the language of financial literacy. In high school, I joined DECA, an organization providing business competitions to young passionate teens, because I believed I could learn budgeting. I created a product- a prototype of a half-plastic and half-thawing cutting board- to combat and bring awareness to high rates of food-borne illness spread in kitchens, incorporating my passion for business regarding public safety and innovation. But behind the scenes, I was learning something else entirely: profit margins, budgeting, product pricing, consumer behavior. It was the first time I saw business as a tool for more than just profit and innovation, but for impact. Outside the classroom, I became president of my synagouges Youth Community Service group. I led clothing drives, organized meal-packing events, and visited elderly patients who rarely had visitors. But even then, I saw the role finances played: families going hungry because they couldn’t afford groceries; elderly patients lacking care because of understaffed facilities. Poverty limits people in ways I'd never imagined before- in ways of accessing their needs, knowledge, and opportunity. That’s what financial literacy means to me. Not just learning how to budget or invest, but using that knowledge to help people who never got the chance and create meaningful change. My goal is to study business, specifically entrepreneurship and leadership, in order to develop affordable tools that improve the financial and physical health of families like mine. I want to create ventures that provide mental health resources to accessible financial coaching. I’ve seen firsthand how financial stress devastated my family, and I’ve also seen how business, when done right, can help others through their financial misery. I will be the one person in my family who uses my profit and business to protect people. Because no family should have to choose between mental health and financial survival. And no teenager should learn money through fear.

I have been failed by the business industry. When my sister was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety, I saw my family collapse under the weight of a system that was supposed to help. Trying our best to support my sister, I realized therapy appointments were expensive, medications were hard to afford, and insurance rarely covered what we truly needed. Even with any support provided, I had always wondered, with all the time and effort put forth to my sister, how come she still suffered? That was when I realized that without true passion, business and healthcare lose their power to truly help people. As my curiosity regarding my sisters health peaked, it sparked a question I couldn’t ignore: What if business, one run by a passionate individual, could be used to prevent this kind of suffering rather than profit from it? In DECA, an organization providing business competitions to young passionate teens, I channeled that question into something tangible. Working with a group of peers, we designed a half-thaw, half-hard plastic cutting board prototype in response to the rising rates of of bacterial infections from poor kitchen sanitation. This product resonated with me because I had seen how rushed meal prep in high-stress households could lead to unsafe food practices, which could lead to long-term health consequences and added medical costs that many families, including mine, simply can’t afford. After working on a 10-page research paper about foodborne illnesses and creating a model this board, my knowledge about the health industry expanded, and I became even more interested in providing health care for others. My passion in creating something that could protect families like mine increased. Presenting this idea and advancing to the state level validated something powerful for me: business innovation, when done right, can literally protect lives. My passion quickly shaped my academic and professional goals. I want to study business with a concentration in health innovation and entrepreneurship. My dream is to launch a company that develops products and services for mental health support for overall household wellness. I aim to make health care more accessible and affordable for families in times of crisis when mines couldn't. I want to build something that gives people a chance to breathe, to heal, to feel safe. My community work has always mirrored this mission. Over the past four years, I’ve led clothing drives and organized meal-packing events for underserved communities, providing essentials to families in need. As president of the Youth Community Service group in my town, I coordinated hospital visits for elderly individuals experiencing daily loneliness, spending hours talking with them and playing games to brighten their day. I am so grateful to help and create a loving connection between young volunteers and both elderly and underserved communities. Through this process, I’ve come to cherish the joy I can bring to other families, always holding onto the hope that one day, that same joy will find its way to my sister. My sister’s diagnosis changed my life. It taught me that behind every business lies the potential to build small, supportive systems that create massive and meaningful change. I believe the future belongs to entrepreneurs who lead with both heart and innovation, and I’m ready to be one of them.

I have been failed by the business industry. When my sister was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety, I saw my family collapse under the weight of a system that was supposed to help. Trying our best to support my sister, I realized therapy appointments were expensive, medications were hard to afford, and insurance rarely covered what we truly needed. Even with any support provided, I had always wondered, with all the time and effort put forth to my sister, how come she still suffered? That was when I realized that without true passion, business and healthcare lose their power to truly help people. As my curiosity regarding my sisters health peaked, it sparked a question I couldn’t ignore: What if business, one run by a passionate individual, could be used to prevent this kind of suffering rather than profit from it? In DECA, an organization providing business competitions to young passionate teens, I channeled that question into something tangible. Working with a group of peers, we designed a half-thaw, half-hard plastic cutting board prototype in response to the rising rates of of bacterial infections from poor kitchen sanitation. This product resonated with me because I had seen how rushed meal prep in high-stress households could lead to unsafe food practices, which could lead to long-term health consequences and added medical costs that many families, including mine, simply can’t afford. After working on a 10-page research paper about foodborne illnesses and creating a model this board, my knowledge about the health industry expanded, and I became even more interested in providing health care for others. My passion in creating something that could protect families like mine increased. Presenting this idea and advancing to the state level validated something powerful for me: business innovation, when done right, can literally protect lives. My passion quickly shaped my academic and professional goals. I want to study business with a concentration in health innovation and entrepreneurship. My dream is to launch a company that develops products and services for mental health support for overall household wellness. I aim to make health care more accessible and affordable for families in times of crisis when mines couldn't. I want to build something that gives people a chance to breathe, to heal, to feel safe. My community work has always mirrored this mission. Over the past four years, I’ve led clothing drives and organized meal-packing events for underserved communities, providing essentials to families in need. As president of the Youth Community Service group in my town, I coordinated hospital visits for elderly individuals experiencing daily loneliness, spending hours talking with them and playing games to brighten their day. I am so grateful to help and create a loving connection between young volunteers and both elderly and underserved communities. Through this process, I’ve come to cherish the joy I can bring to other families, always holding onto the hope that one day, that same joy will find its way to my sister. My sister’s diagnosis changed my life. It taught me that behind every business lies the potential to build small, supportive systems that create massive and meaningful change. I believe the future belongs to entrepreneurs who lead with both heart and innovation, and I’m ready to be one of them.

I entered the Turkish market to buy a bag of pistachios and more Turkish tea. I give my items to the cashier. As he scans my items, I hear the news coming from the T.V above me, “Israel Defense Forces announced Friday it is ‘expanding ground operations’ in the Gaza Strip and ‘operating forcefully’ on all fronts to fulfill its goals in war with Hamas.” The cashier shakes his head and starts talking to me in Turkish, “What a terrible country Israel is. Always acting with aggression,” and goes on to mumble even more. I froze. Was it wrong for me to stay silent? My own cultural background, Turkish, would want me to stay silent. But my religious identity, Jewish, would want me to advocate against this man's beliefs. I was stuck in the middle with who I was. If I were to choose 'one side’ would the 'other side’ of me be disconnected? I mean, I am both Turkish and Jewish, so I had to favor one side over the other, right? In a world brimming with political wars and hatred, I chose to ensure that both my cultures are valued, respected and embraced. I will empower the voice I lost in the Turkish market and listen to others who also want their voices heard. I want to inspire a generation of teens who feel hopeless and stuck-in-the-middle as I did through engaging in social action. This led me to being the founder of the Multicultural Club in my school. My club was established– regardless of the limited ability of spots for clubs and few supporters. My club was a free space for any cultural person. It was no easy task, during lunch time I would walk around the hallways and promote my club endlessly. I remember standing in class, starting my lesson with my seven members, when all of a sudden a bunch of kids walked through the door. What once started from a seven member club, soon turned into a club with thirty members. Kids with different races, backgrounds, and ethnicities entered. From that moment on, I knew that I would consistently put in the effort to develop engaging lessons and activities. I organized a series of slides to broaden their understanding of other cultures, followed by a popular game or tradition from that culture to elevate their experience and make it enjoyable. In fact, it became popular for club members to present their own cultures. Although my club wasn’t funded, it didn’t stop me from organizing bake sales at school. Volunteers would join me after school to sell traditional snacks in efforts to raise funds for charity. Additionally, my club offers volunteer services with the elderly as a way to unite– which was my primary goal for this club– and serve our community. I transformed my negative experience from the Turkish market into a positive one. I made a multicultural club that has made others appreciate and connect with their cultures. Out of the entire year, I told my club members to keep one thing in mind as the school year was ending: “This space was made because of you and for you. Who you are brought you here. So embrace your identity and never be ashamed.” This message applies to those who shy away from their identity, for whatever reason it may be. No war, rejection, hatred, insecurity, or even the fake media should be the reason why you can’t accept yourself. We are all born with a purpose. Use your unique background to inspire others, as I did.

As a high schooler, I've never been particularly determined to pursue any specific path, but I always knew my passion was in literature and advocacy. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved reading books. Stories ignite my imagination and deepen my curiosity about the world. While reading a compelling story, which prompted me to do more online research, I learned from Libraries For Literacy that 78% of South African 10-year-olds cannot read. Only 8% of South African public schools have a library, and 58% of its children don’t have access to books. I can’t imagine a life without books, education, or imagination. Every child deserves the right to enjoy stories as much as any other. The heartbreaking reality motivated me to become an advocate and event planner for Trekking For Kids, a non-profit, and Britara, a local jewelry business. Through planning events, my goal was to raise significant funds to build a library in Africa and provide books for their community, while also promoting the local business. Thanks to my literary skills and advocacy techniques, such as online promotion and word-of-mouth, many people were inspired to join this cause. We successfully raised over $800, which enabled us to achieve our main goal of establishing a library and providing books for kids. I believe that through any business, there is an opportunity to positively impact and change someone's life, even if it's just one person. I also believe that education creates more opportunities for children, which is why children need access to books. Additionally, my commitment to making a difference in my community through my literacy skills inspired me to participate in a volunteer program. In this program, I tutor and mentor elementary to middle school students, dedicating several hours each week to helping them with subjects like reading, writing, math, and science. Witnessing their confidence in learning is incredibly rewarding for me. Volunteering has also taught me valuable skills such as patience, communication, and leadership. My volunteering experience showed me the benefits it served for these children to excel academically, which proves my point about the importance of accessing education and other opportunities. This has also taught me why businesses should prioritize community impact. My dream career and goals soon became clear: I aspire to earn a bachelor's degree in business administration and literature, with a minor in marketing. With these degrees, I aim to host successful events that continue to raise funds and advocate for underprivileged communities, while also increasing awareness among others. This aligns with my passion for making a positive impact through business and literature. Thank you for considering my essay. I look forward to your response.

In a world brimming with diversity and challenges, I am driven to achieve unity in my community through my compassion. As a first-generation American with roots from Turkey and Israel, my journey is about a more connected and empathetic global community. I began volunteering at my town's synagogue in ninth grade, shortly after the COVID-19 pandemic. Since 2021, I have dedicated four hours weekly to meaningful activities. This includes visiting elderly homes to compete in game sessions that bring joy and companionship to the residents, along with getting involved in serious, or even amusing, conversations with the elderly. Additionally, I participate in preparing and packing meals to raise funds for various charities, such as packing nutritious snacks, and baking homemade foods to distribute to homeless individuals in our community. I remember my friend once questioned whether my interactions with the elderly were truly beneficial for society as a whole. However, I recalled back to what my mother told me about community service, which truly inspired me. She said, “As long as you make a single person a little happier than they were before, then that is community service.” I firmly believe that any effort, whether it's picking up litter from the ground, spending time with elderlies, mentoring children, or even just watering the grass, can positively impact the world we live in. The thing about community service is that no act is too small or too big. Whatever you do, the help is always valuable. The more time I spent with the elderly, the more I realized how much they looked forward to our service days, the competitive activities, and even dance battles we did. These joyful moments make them cherish each day. Participating in community service benefits not only others around me but also myself– it’s a win-win situation. Helping others through voluntary service helped me overcome the depression I experienced during COVID-19. Community service became a way for me to discover self-love and appreciate my own abilities through supporting others. I knew then that I wanted to be even more involved, and so I took more action. A year later, I joined a small volunteering program from my school and started tutoring and mentoring young students from elementary through middle school. Each week, I spend several hours helping younger students with any academic subject such as reading, writing, math, and science. My support boosted their confidence towards learning as I actively engaged with them. Additionally, I assist them on their organizational skills, helping them beyond academics. Students revisit me to show me their academic improvements after my tutoring efforts, which truly furthers my passion for service. For me, seeing their progress is deeply fulfilling. Voluntarily tutoring has also taught me valuable lessons such as patience, communication, and leadership. Furthermore, I am proud to say that I also inspired other high school students to join the tutoring service, which contributed to the growth and greater unity of this program. This experience has been very rewarding for both the students and me. In conclusion, my commitment and dedication to community service has improved the lives of many. Whether it’s mentoring young children or participating in game nights with elderlies, my service has helped me gain valuable skills, such as empathy and leadership. Moving forward, I intend in continuing my volunteer services through making a positive impact and creating meaningful change in my community.