The day before my junior year of high school, I stood before the entire faculty and staff, nervous but resolute. As the newly elected president of our twenty-five year old Gender and Sexuality Alliance, GSA, I introduced my club and handed out “Safe Space” posters for every teacher to display in their classrooms. We work to make our campus slightly more accepting, letting each student know that they’re not alone and have support on every level. While the majority of the population is open-minded, there are still quite a few students and organizations who can be prejudiced against the LGBTQ community. From name-calling and being mocked when introducing ourselves to the school for club day to being denied local fundraising opportunities once the organization learned who we are, I’ve had to deal with a lot of harassment. We work with La Canada’s Reverend Kyle Sears for various community events such as Pride in the Park or Day of Silence, yet there’s a very vocal member of the city who is pressuring him to stop collaborating with us and take down the pride flags in front of his church. It’s difficult to work with other clubs for group sponsored events, as many of them want to avoid being associated with our type of club so that they don’t have to deal with the extra emotional burden of knowing that we simply won’t be accepted by everyone. It gets really disheartening when I have to endure the small, daily acts of discrimination. One of the main reasons I wanted a leadership position in this club was so that I can help prevent anyone else from having to go through this. I’ve got thick skin, and I’m more than willing to take the punches for anyone who can’t. Despite this behavior, I’ve been taking steps to ensure that we can be a refuge for all students who need it while combatting the discriminatory acts. I display monthly calendars of Awareness Weeks as well as take a more educational approach to explain various identities or cultural experiences that have shaped our community. Each weekly meeting, we give historical backgrounds on terminology and holidays, such as Spirit Day. I’ve been trying to make sure our campus culture is not only more aware of these events, but better understands them and is therefore less biased. Last month, we sponsored a Girl Scout Gold Award Presentation about queer stories by providing a venue, audience, and advertising. Hopefully, through hosting more of these events, we can diminish the amount of discrimination that happens on campus, and I can provide a voice for those unable to speak up on their own. I intend to join a similar type of club in college, and want to continue fundraising and sharing more about our community so that we can educate others, slowly ending the backlash we’ve had to face.

My mom was one of the first people in her family to go to college and get a master’s degree, so I really want to follow in her footsteps. The gratitude I feel for even just having the ability to go to college is something I’ll never be able to properly express, so I want to make up for it by getting a doctorate in Marine Biology and conducting research while discovering new species. A few months ago, I noticed my cat trying to eat a strangely colored baby lizard through our screen door. I unsuccessfully tried to save it, resulting in quite a few lizard-shaped bite marks, but I was curious as to what it was. However, it was almost impossible to identify. It seemed to be albino, yet its eyes were black, and while the body shape matched that of a blue tailed skink, the row of scales along its belly confirmed it had to be a lizard. After days of endless research into native and non-native species lists, every possible genetic color variation, and a few desperate reddit posts, I eventually identified it as a simple alligator lizard, just with a rare coloration. Even for something on such a small scale, I’ll almost always go out of my way to research and solve spontaneous investigations that arise in my daily life In the summer, a two-week-long marine biology program finally gave me the outlet and team I needed to explore every opportunity for discovery. From comparing the different musical rhythms and clicks of communication between baleen whales and odontocetes, to laughing so hard we cried over the disgusting smell of our dissected pregnant squid, each day was a new adventure. While it’s certainly tedious spending hours calculating species richness and completing endless data tables, if it meant that I would get to go back out and collect new samples later, it was worth it. Now, whenever I’m on a beach, I can’t help sneaking off to explore. The chance to discover new species or explore unseen parts of the ocean still fascinates me, and leaves me continuing to search for more. I intend to pursue a heavily research-focused career full of field work and hopefully new deep sea discoveries. With the endless opportunities from college studies, I can fully explore every aspect of the ocean through unique research projects that would have otherwise been unavailable to me, such as working with newer technology to study the sea floor and the fascinating creatures that live there.

I discovered my first empty patch at age eight. The first brick. No bigger than the size of a pencil eraser, it shouldn’t be too serious, right? My battle with alopecia began in third grade. Although heading to the dermatologist for shots in my head certainly wasn’t pleasant, usually everything would grow back. However, nothing could have prepared me for sophomore year. I wore bucket hats for a week, but I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t getting worse. I would need a wig. I can deal with not getting a role I desperately wanted, or messing up on a big test. It was scary being diagnosed with diabetes at age eleven, yet nobody would know I was immuno-compromised by simply looking at me. But losing almost all my hair in a few weeks? I missed classes. I couldn’t focus during rehearsals. I was Olive in The Odd Couple, opening in weeks, but I couldn’t even face my family without properly covering everything. Every day added a new, crushing weight of uncertainty. There were bad days. There were awful days. My prescriptions were still in the trial phase, so I had to just wait and pray they’d kick in soon, if at all. The bricks were piling up; I couldn’t see a way out. So I got a sledgehammer. It’s not like my hair would grow back through the power of moping. Can’t dye my hair? Fine. I’ll dye myself. I’ll weave intricate henna into my skin, traditional lace with bumblebees or an octopus sleeve. While it was incredibly difficult to lose the vibrant purples of my braids, I instead style perfect bead-to-wire ratios in my latest earrings. I didn’t know if my hair would grow back or even stay, but I can confirm, based on a spontaneous two-hour investigation, that the mysterious “skink” my cat was eating was, in fact, an alligator lizard. My new medicines will likely become a lifelong routine with no guarantee they’ll last. But there’s a comfort in knowing I always have the promise of a new project, another outlet to unleash myself upon the world. Although it’s impossible for me to truly understand the weight that Jack Terry carried with him, I can appreciate how incredible of an accomplishment he made. All of my grandfathers served in Vietnam, so I have an extra sense of admiration towards both his bravery and dedication towards his education. I have to consistently monitor my blood sugar levels during classes, and while it’s certainly not easy to entirely devote my attention to both my health and homework at the same time, it’s something I’ve been able to adapt to over time. I want to be a marine biologist, conducting in person research to learn more about our underwater ecosystems while preserving them for generations to come. The chance to discover new species or explore unseen parts of the ocean has and always will fascinate me, leaving me continuing to search for more. Through collecting new data on the various climate change impacts on our oceans, I can learn the best way to protect against further damage and rebuild some of the habitats we’ve lost while fostering endangered species to help them rebuild and thrive once again. By better understanding the world around us, we’ll have many more resources to improve human health on a global scale and give back to the universal ecosystem. Investigating the biology behind mysterious marine species can be translated into developing newer research on modern medical practices, with the potential to create a better quality of life for everyone.

It all started with the Octonauts. This doofy yet educational British children’s show had me singing along to their “Creature Report” about the friendly barreleye fish and all the other surprisingly weird marine animals featured. At age five, I had my whole life figured out. I was going to be a marine biologist. Ten years later, I’m knee deep in tide pools, blissfully unaware of my soaked jeans and counting the pink-tipped anemones in my sector of the beach. A two-week-long marine biology program finally gave me the outlet and team I needed to explore every opportunity for discovery. From comparing the different musical rhythms and clicks of communication between baleen whales and odontocetes, to laughing so hard we cried over the disgusting smell of our dissected pregnant squid, each day was a new adventure. While it’s certainly tedious spending hours calculating species richness and completing endless data tables, if it meant that I would get to go back out and collect new samples later, it was worth it. Now, whenever I’m on a beach, I can’t help sneaking off to explore.The chance to discover new species or explore unseen parts of the ocean still fascinates me, and leaves me continuing to search for more. By the day before my junior year of high school, I stood before the entire faculty and staff, nervous but resolute. As the newly elected president of our Gender and Sexuality Alliance, GSA, I introduced my club and handed out “Safe Space” posters for every teacher to display in their classrooms. We work to make our campus slightly more accepting, letting each student know they’re not alone and have support on every level. While the majority of the population is open-minded, there are still quite a few students who can be prejudiced against the LGBTQ community. It gets really disheartening when I have to endure the small, daily acts of discrimination. From name-calling to being blocked from local fundraising opportunities once they learned who our club was, it’s pretty overwhelming. One of the main reasons I wanted a leadership position in this club was so that I can help prevent anyone else from having to go through this. I’ve got thick skin, and I’m more than willing to take the punches for anyone who can’t. We have our own display case with monthly calendars of Awareness Weeks, and take a more educational approach to explain various identities or cultural experiences that have shaped our community. Each weekly meeting, we give historical backgrounds on terminology and holidays, such as the Day of Silence. I’ve been trying to make sure our campus culture is not only more aware of these events, but better understands them and is therefore less biased, and I’m excited to join a similar group in college. In late 2024, my dad lost his editing job and was unable to find work until late 2025. Although his new minimum wage does help, that alongside my mom’s high school teacher salary is still less than half of the income we used to make in 2023. I’m committed to the University of Washington in Seattle, but it’s honestly pretty scary having to face the fact that since the FAFSA doesn’t consider our current 2025 income, I’m receiving little to no federal financial aid and will almost certainly have to take on school sponsored, federal, and private loans just to have a chance at completing college. While I know that I’ll find a way through, scholarship applications have become a second job, and any amount awarded takes a little bit of pressure and debt off my plate.

It all started with the Octonauts. This doofy yet educational British children’s show had me singing along to their “Creature Report” about the friendly barreleye fish and all the other surprisingly weird marine animals featured. At age five, I had my whole life figured out. I was going to be an Octonaut. Ten years later, I’m knee deep in tide pools, blissfully unaware of my soaked jeans and counting the pink-tipped anemones in my sector of the beach. A two-week-long marine biology program finally gave me the outlet and team I needed to explore every opportunity for discovery. From comparing the different musical rhythms and clicks of communication between baleen whales and odontocetes, to laughing so hard we cried over the disgusting smell of our dissected pregnant squid, each day was a new adventure. While it’s certainly tedious spending hours calculating species richness and completing endless data tables, if it meant that I would get to go back out and collect new samples later, it was worth it. Now, whenever I’m on a beach, I can’t help sneaking off to explore. Once with my friends, I noticed that every time the waves retreated, there would be strange dark streaks in the sand that always occurred with weird, arrow-shaped indents. Sure, I could have simply Googled why that was the case, but where would the fun in that be? After handfuls of sand and, much to my surprise, quite a few crabs later, I finally discovered that mole crabs themselves were the culprits, having dug up darker iron deposits in their hasty attempts to burrow in the sand before being swept up in the waves again. A few months ago, I noticed my cat trying to eat a strangely colored baby lizard through our screen door. I unsuccessfully tried to save it, resulting in quite a few bite marks, but I was curious as to what it was. However, it was almost impossible to identify. It seemed to be albino, yet its eyes were black, and while the body shape matched that of a blue tailed skink, the row of scales along its belly confirmed it had to be a lizard. After days of endless research into native and non-native species lists, every possible genetic color variation, and a few desperate reddit posts, I eventually identified it as a simple alligator lizard, just with a rare coloration. Even for something on such a small scale, I’ll almost always go out of my way to research and solve spontaneous investigations that arise in my daily life. This line of the poem really resonated with me as it represents countless possibilities to make new discoveries using endless resources to aid me in whatever I pursue next. I intend to major in marine biology, with a heavily research-focused career full of field work and hopefully new deep sea discoveries. With all of the new resources available to me through college, I can fully explore every aspect of this major through unique research projects that would have otherwise been unavailable to me, such as working with newer technology to study the sea floor and the fascinating creatures that live there. In a way, I am an Octonaut. Harold, my hand-crafted, realistic, six-foot-long paper mâché leopard shark, graces my AP Biology teacher’s wall and tells excellent dad jokes. Soon after, I created Dave the Mako Shark for my AP Chem teacher at his request, in case Harold ever felt a little lonely. The chance to discover new species or explore unseen parts of the ocean still fascinates me, and leaves me continuing to search for more.