As an avid Connections fan, this scholarship was right up my alley. I tried to make these categories similar to those found in the New York Times, while also playing into my love for linguistics. My four-by-four grid is as follows: METROPOLITAN HOTEL FISH BEACH LLAMA LEAD KINDRED AIRPORT STEAL TEAR RESTAURANT LION FROG READ STINGRAY RECREATION The four categories are as follows, in order from easiest (yellow) to hardest (purple): Yellow - Vacation stops Airport, Hotel, Restaurant, Beach The yellow category is always the easiest one, so I tried to keep it simple. The category title speaks for itself: all four of these locations (airports, hotels, restaurants, and beaches) are major stops on a typical summer vacation. I chose this category as the yellow one because, even if the player is unable to identify the specific connection, these four places are loosely associated to the point where the player is likely to see that they belong together. In addition, these some of these words act as decoys that people might pair up with other words, such as Beach with Stingray or Fish and Hotel with Metropolitan or Recreation. Green - Animal protagonists of Disney movies Fish, Llama, Lion, Frog This one is a bit tougher, largely due to the fact that there is another animal word (Stingray), meaning the animal connection won’t get players all the way to the solution. Each of these animals, unlike a stingray, are featured in animated Disney movies: Dory from Finding Dory (technically Finding Nemo as well, but that movie was made prior to Disney’s acquisition of Pixar), Kuzco from The Emperor’s New Groove, Simba from The Lion King, and Tiana from The Princess and the Frog. This category mainly exists to serve as a decoy and distract players from the correct category of the word Stingray. Blue - Heteronyms Read, Lead, Tear, Recreation The blue category tends to be the place where many people get stuck in real games of Connections, and I tried to live up to that in this category. Since I’ll be majoring in linguistics, I figured I had to include at least one category related to linguistics, and this was the one I chose. Heteronyms are words which are spelled identically to other words but have different pronunciations and definitions. In this case, the heteronym pairs are read (present; pronounced /rēd/) and read (past participle; pronounced /red/), lead (verb; pronounced /lēd/) and lead (the noun, referring to the chemical; pronounced /led/), tear (verb, referring to the process of ripping something; pronounced /ter/) and tear (noun, referring to liquid secreted from the eyes; pronounced /tir/), and recreation (noun, referring to the act of recreating something; pronounced /ˌrēkrēˈāSH(ə)n/, with “ree” as the first syllable) and recreation (noun, referring to something done for leisure; pronounced /ˌrekrēˈāSH(ə)n/, with “reh” as the first syllable instead of a “ree”). Purple - Words ending in colors Steal, Metropolitan, Kindred, Stingray In real games of the Connections, the purple category is often deceptively easy, with a seemingly simple category. These purple words, however, tend not to be read at face value, and I tried to emulate that experience with this category. Instead of looking at the word definitions (which, as discussed earlier, may trip you up due to other semantically related words), you have to look at the way the words are spelled. Each of these words ends in a color: Steal ends in teal, Metropolitan ends in tan, Kindred ends in red, and Stingray ends in gray.

I’ve had a rather unconventional journey through high school. I attend a Greek charter school, which means the Greek language is woven into our everyday curriculum. From our Greek language classes, to our celebrations of Greek holidays, and even to the three pillars of our school, our Greek identity is strong and omnipresent. Despite me having no relation to Greece myself - both my parents are from Irish descent - I’ve found myself feeling most at home in this distinctly Greek environment. Perhaps due to my unconventional schooling, I have an unconventional view of “success”. When I think about some of my proudest moments from these past few years, several come to mind. One of them, for example, was when I passed the B1 level of the Ellinomatheia, or Greek Learning Exams, thereby earning me my Certificate of Multiliteracy in only my sophomore year of high school. This moment felt incredible, not only due to the doors such an award would open for me, but also because it was the culmination of my hard work; after all, I had spent several years building up my Greek skills to the point where I felt ready to take the exams. Moreover, I felt that I had made my Greek teachers proud; my relationships with them are some of my most cherished gifts from my schooling, and in a strange way, I felt as if I was “giving back” to them through earning the Certificate. I truly felt like I had succeeded in something I was tremendously passionate about, and that feeling was highly rewarding. My proudest moment of all came nearly a year later. In the summer leading up to my junior year of high school, I was selected to attend a three week-long summer program in Greece run by Harvard University. As the sole attendee from my school and the sole American, it was daunting, but my Greek teachers had enough faith in me that I felt confident enough to go for it. That first day, the local students met up in the lobby of my hotel so that we could meet each other ahead of the program. Apprehensively, I got dressed, packed my bag, and walked downstairs. And at that moment, I made a hasty decision: I was going to try and speak to them in Greek. I greeted them, and they greeted me back. I told them my name, and they did the same; we made some small talk for a few minutes, talking about the program and how our day had been. Once we all gathered, we began to walk out of the hotel, when one of the students said in Greek, “Wait, where’s the American?” I was a bit shocked, but I awkwardly raised my hand. They were stunned - they went on to tell me later that, apparently, my accent was good enough that they couldn’t tell that I was from America. It was such a small victory, such a simple moment, but knowing that made me feel like I could take on the world. It felt infinitely more empowering than my Certificate of Multiliteracy, because this was more than just a piece of paper saying I could speak Greek. These were actual Greeks, people that had never met me before, telling me I could speak Greek. And, while there were points throughout the program where it was hard for me to understand or keep up with my peers, that one small moment ignited a newfound motivation in me to continue pursuing foreign languages. I wanted to continue my journey because languages open up entirely new worlds for those who can speak them, and pave a new path to forming deep, meaningful connections with others. This scholarship will provide me the financial aid to do just that. With this aid, earning my bachelor’s degree in linguistics at a school with a strong program will be significantly easier, and will also provide me more time to save up for graduate school, where I hope to earn my master’s degree. Since my time in Greece, I’ve also passed the B2 level of the Ellinomatheia, but throughout college I plan on continuing with the next levels of the exams; because of this, I plan on taking Modern Greek classes throughout college, both as a way to continue developing my skills as well as fulfilling foreign language requirements. This scholarship will ensure that I can reasonably afford these classes. My ultimate goal will be the time when I can speak Greek fluently and work in the field of translation and interpretation, bridging language barriers for others which were once there for myself. When that happens, not only will I make my Greek teachers, friends, and peers proud; above all else, I’ll make myself proud. I’ll finally have achieved true success.

I’ve learned quite a bit about charter schools, having attended one for eight years. On one hand, I’ve learned they can open doors in a way that no other school can. My charter school was established on the foundation of Greek culture and language, and it was through this mission statement that I’ve been given some of the most amazing opportunities of my life. I’ve gone to Greece in a study abroad program. I’ve earned my Certificate of Multiliteracy in English and Greek. Above all else, I’ve thrived, both as a student and as a person. On the other hand, though, I’ve learned many people - especially lawmakers - aren’t too fond of charter schools. When I looked back at all the blessings I’ve received from my time in Delaware charter schools, I realized I couldn’t stay silent as lawmakers sought to dismantle the system in which I thrived. So, I spoke up. In 2023, I joined the Delaware Charter Schools Network’s Student Advisory Council, a student-led group composed of students from charter schools throughout Delaware. In the Council, I acted as the sole representative of my school and worked together with other students on organizing and leading campaigns for the Delaware charter school community. Among our many accomplishments that year, such as our Valentines for Congress campaign or our presence at the 2024 IDEA Awards, none can compare to the culmination of our efforts: the 2024 Charter Rally. Watching as hundreds of students poured onto the Green at our state’s capital, Dover, was incredibly rewarding. I, as well as my fellow council members, worked painstakingly to organize every aspect of the rally, from the T-shirt design to our theme of cultural identity, and seeing it all come to fruition was humbling. With rally turnout being a success, the rest of the day fell into place. I guided the student-led parade on their journey to Legislative Hall, documented the day’s events through photographs and videos, and delivered an original speech describing my journey with charter schools and calling on lawmakers to protect them. Later that day, upon my visit to Legislative Hall, I watched first-hand as Senate Concurrent Resolution No. 161 was passed, designating the week of May 13 to May 17, 2024 as Delaware Charter Schools Week. The rally could not have gone better, and I am proud to say that I played a major role in its success. Being able to witness the fruits of my efforts taught me one more important lesson: speaking up can make a difference. By bringing people together and unifying them under a single message, we were able to make a meaningful impact on our statewide community. Not only did we earn the support of several legislators, but we also codified the notion that charter schools are something to be celebrated. This experience has shaped my aspirations by showing me the power in us, as people; I want to continue this journey and devote my career to fostering a sense of community. Connecting with others is the single most powerful thing we can do to make an impact, and it is because of this that I am pursuing an education in linguistics and foreign languages. This scholarship will help me achieve my aspirations by alleviating financial burdens that I may accrue through college, as well as giving me the opportunity to apply for top schools with strong linguistics programs. By developing my understanding of languages, I hope to turn my voice into a beacon for others, break down cultural and language barriers, and build a stronger sense of community wherever I go.

“This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, whether in public or private life must have his life fixed.” This paragraph is excerpted from The Republic by Plato, which documents a series of conversations held between the renowned Greek philosopher Socrates (to whom this specific quote is attributed) and Plato’s brother, Glaucon. At this point in The Republic, Socrates is establishing his famous “Allegory of the Cave”. In it, a group of prisoners are chained to the ground in a dark cave, seeing nothing but the cave’s wall. The only thing accompanying the prisoners is a small fire, hidden from view, which casts shadows onto the wall. To Socrates, the prisoners represent the untrained mind; the shadows represent subjective interpretation; finally, the fire’s light represents the objective truth. In this paragraph, Socrates frames the journey out of the cave and towards the light as the “ascent of the soul into the intellectual world”. In doing so, he expresses his belief that true philosophers make the difficult journey towards the truth, and upon achieving it, they bear the social responsibility of delivering it to others. Firstly, it is important to establish the context of this paragraph. The goal of Socrates’ allegory is to articulate the idea of the “philosopher king” - rather, the duties and obligations that philosophers have, both to themselves and to society as a whole. Socrates believes that philosophers are fundamental members of society and serve the greater community by acting as vessels of logic and reason. By placing philosophers on this pedestal, Socrates asserts that philosophers are channels through which intellectualism can enter a highly subjective society. Socrates’ reasoning behind his emphasis on the “ascent of the soul into the intellectual world” is made apparent, but as stated earlier, the “philosopher king” does not just uncover knowledge, but he also shares it with those who lack it. Socrates illustrates this aspect of the philosopher king by drawing a stark contrast between the “intellectual world” and “visible world”, as described in the paragraph. The visible world, within the context of the allegory, is the observable world of the prisoners. To them, the shadows that dance across the wall of the cave are as real as anything else, since the source of the light itself and the figures that obscure it are both out of view. In this case, the prisoners of the cave represent society as a whole, which - without a philosopher to helm the search of the truth - lends illusions and misconceptions great power. Furthermore, the shackles which bind the prisoners to the ground serve as tangible representations of bias and assumption, human traits that hinder our ability to discern facts from conjecture. Antithetically, the “intellectual world” resides in the light. The philosopher, freed from his shackles, is able to discover the source of the light - but, even then, the flaws of human thought may prevent him from uncovering the truth. In this paragraph, Socrates states that the source of the light is “only seen with an effort”. At other points in his allegory, Socrates argues that the philosopher’s eyes must first adjust to the light in order for him to see it clearly. This is the “great effort” which he mentions, and emphasizes Socrates’ view that philosophers do not only seek the truth, but they also bear the difficulties that come with philosophical inquiry and, at some points, being unable to fully comprehend axiomatic realities. Before the philosopher can return to the cave and inform its prisoners of the truth behind their visible reality, he must first ascend above his limitations as a former prisoner and approach the light from a different perspective. He must discard his previously held misconceptions and beliefs in order to unequivocally harness his learnings and implement them within society. Socrates’ commentary on the allegory holds great societal implications. Socrates frames the vast majority of people, nearly the entirety of society, as trapped within the cave, shackled to the ground by their own ignorance. Their views of the world and the way in which society should function are misinformed at best, and irrational and fantastical at worst. According to Socrates, only those who are able to shed their human flaws and transcend into a fully objective state of mind are capable of seeing clearly, an action which can only be done with immense effort and dedication. Once they have done so, however, it is then their duty to society to deliver those truths to those who are trapped within their own ignorance. Philosophers are then able to free them of the illusions that guide their thinking, and - while they may still be shackled to the ground - these epiphanies allow them to build a more rational and reasonable society. This notion of an intellectual society is something that Socrates views as innately good. The philosopher must approach each problem from his newly informed perspective - he must remain, in Socrates’ words, “fixed” upon the power bestowed onto him by knowledge, the “idea of good”. This specific line of reasoning is what grants this passage such value, both from a historical and philosophical standpoint. Historically speaking, this reveals to us one of the axioms that led Socrates’ principles and teachings, shedding light on the thought process of one of history’s most famous philosophers. Moreover, from a philosophical standpoint, this presumption by Socrates crystalizes the true meaning of his allegory. The philosopher king is obligated to introduce logic and reason into society, because logic and reason are inherently good; in other words, a philosopher king cannot act morally if he does not do so. One of the key questions that prevail within the field of philosophy pertains to the relationship between morality and objectivity, and through this allegory Socrates draws a clear line between the two: objectivity and morality can coexist, because morality necessitates objectivity. The prisoners in the cave cannot act morally, because they lack the objectivity that dictates morals. Despite this, simply ascending from the cave does not make one moral either - it merely makes one objective. True morality stems from the journey into the light followed by the sharing of that discovery - rather, the acquisition of objectivity, and the subsequent actions taken based on it. Throughout history, skeptics have questioned the practical value of philosophers within society. Socrates, in this allegory, provides them an answer: philosophy introduces the morals which dictate the very fabric upon which society is built.

Around a year ago, I came out as gay. In many ways, it was the beginning of a new chapter for me: these past twelve months have been filled with moments of incredible self-discovery and pure joy as I’ve been able to figure out the person I truly was, whom I had locked away for sixteen years. At times, it’s hard not to look back at the “before” with sadness, seeing nothing but a lost, confused teenage boy who wanted nothing more than to escape who he truly was. Whenever those thoughts start to creep up in my mind, I put in my earbuds and play “Wildest Dreams (Taylor’s Version)”. The end of the first verse encapsulates how I felt in the closet. “I can see the end as it begins,” Taylor says; she knows the relationship she’s in is fleeting, something that, while sweet, will come to a bitter end. This is exactly how I thought before I came out: I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep up the facade my whole life, but I tried to avoid confronting that bitter truth and seek comfort in the person I pretended to be. This theme of reveling in the rush of a new relationship despite its fragile foundations is laced throughout the song, and perfectly captures that solace that queer people find in keeping their identities hidden. In the chorus, Taylor sings, “Say you’ll remember me / Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe / Red lips and rosy cheeks / Say you’ll see me again, even if it’s just in your / Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha,” showing an unrelenting sense of hope. She knows this relationship is doomed to fall apart, and she doesn’t try to stop it; rather, she asks her lover to remember it for the beauty and bliss they found together. It was a difficult lesson for me to learn, but when I hear these lyrics, I’m reminded that I shouldn’t look back at the years before I came out with bitterness or resentment; for every moment of despair or self-loathing that I may have gone through, there were countless moments of pure joy. The bridge evokes all the emotions I felt when I came out. She writes, “You’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burning it down / Some day, when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around,” lyrics which are accompanied by a loud, explosive chord progression that deviates from the somber, bittersweet tone established in the rest of the song. It’s clear that Taylor is fighting for the memory of their relationship, her voice booming as she draws attention to the happy moments they spent together. When I came out, I wanted to distance myself from the person I was before. These lyrics helped me realize that my experiences in the closet - just like Taylor’s relationship - fundamentally transformed me as a person, and I couldn’t simply let them go. Those memories “follow me around”; though I may have moved on, they’re still valuable experiences. These lessons which I've learned throughout this past year are why I plan on pursuing my passion for foreign languages in college. When I look back at the time before I came out, some of my happiest memories were made forming deep connections with my foreign language teachers and culturally diverse peers. By majoring in linguistics, I hope to live out my own wildest dreams and break down language barriers, in hopes to share my newfound love for life with people across the world.

There’s a common label that’s thrown around here in America: “Foreigner.” Having attended a Greek high school, I’ve heard it tossed around my fair share of times. Towards my Greek peers, to exchange students. The word didn’t always come with negative baggage, of course; it was, after all, just a label. Someone who isn’t from America is, by definition, a foreigner. I didn’t really bat an eye at the term. At least, not yet. In the summer leading up to my junior year, I was selected to participate in a summer program: I was to travel to Greece for three weeks to attend a college-level seminar. I was initially shocked when I got the email that I had been accepted; the idea of being on my own in a foreign country at only sixteen years old was, needless to say, tantalizing. When I arrived in Greece, the realization dawned on me: I was now the “foreigner”. I was the sole American student among a sea of native Greeks attending the program. I feared they would treat me the same way that foreigners were treated back home. I was wrong. Immediately, I was met with compassion, grace, and a simple desire to get to know me. It’s what the Greeks call “filoxenia” - a word that most closely translates to “hospitality”. Whereas the word “foreigner” was often used to diminish people in the States, in Greece it acted as an invitation to meet somebody different than oneself. I was quickly humbled by their unwavering kindness, and I returned home to America not only with countless new friends, but also a transformed worldview. Nobody should be a “foreigner” in a country where we all bleed the same color. That is why I am pursuing a career in linguistics: I hope to break down language barriers and, in doing so, build cultural bridges. An understanding of how languages form and function, as well as the ability to speak multiple languages, is one of the first steps to achieving that goal. I plan on spending my undergraduate years learning about the study of linguistics, while also spreading my foreign language horizons beyond English and Greek. After earning a bachelor’s degree, I plan on pursuing higher education and enrolling in a master’s program to further build up my affinity with languages, before entering the workforce in the fields of translation, localization, and interpretation. Whether in the form of interpersonal interpretation, the translation of literature, or the localization of foreign media, I want to foster a sense of global community and spread the virtue of filoxenia that was shown to me in Greece. I firmly believe that language barriers should not be seen as limitations, but rather opportunities to learn more about the world outside of our own country. Even if dismantling widespread prejudice isn’t something that can be done alone, I hope I can contribute by making the world a slightly more compassionate and interconnected place.

“My Thomas, This journey, which we embarked on together, I hope and wish brings you to your own Ithaka. I know that, if it exists, you will find it. Your teacher, Ms. Micha” This was the message left for me in my yearbook at the end of my freshman year, left by none other than my Greek Studies teacher. Her reference to “Ithaka” alludes back to The Odyssey, one of the legendary Homeric Epics which we had covered in her class. In it, Odysseus sets sail across the Aegean and Ionian Seas in hopes of returning to his homeland, namely the island of Ithaka. After concluding our time with The Odyssey, Ms. Micha posed a question: “What is your own Ithaka?” Being met with around a dozen confused faces, she went on to explain the question further. Throughout The Odyssey, Odysseus’ one and only goal was to return home to Ithaka. It was more than just a destination for him; to him, Ithaka represented a sense of belonging. It made sense, then, why Odysseus fought tooth and nail throughout his journey, losing dear friends in the process, to get back to the island. That sense of belonging wasn’t something that could be replaced. After this explanation, however, I still couldn’t conjure up an answer. How was I supposed to know where I “belonged”? As if she could read my mind, Ms. Micha quickly took it upon herself to help me figure out the answer to that question. Throughout the next year, she would push me more than any other teacher had - both in Greek class, and as a person. Over time, she began to peel back the protective layers in which I had encased myself in for my whole life. Slowly but surely, I felt that she got to know the real me, at times before even I did. As the months went by, she would say, “I have plans for you.” Those plans would come to fruition during the summer of 2023. Every year, our school offered a three-week-long trip to Greece as part of a summer study abroad program. Again, in her laconic ways, Ms. Micha approached me and simply said, “You are going to apply to this program.” The prospect of being on my own in a foreign country at only sixteen years old was scary, but her confidence in me was inspiration enough for me to send off my application. And I got in. The moment I stepped foot in Greece was the moment I found my Ithaka. Unburdened by the desire to “fit in” alongside my American peers, I dared to be the most authentic version of myself in Greece. In only three weeks, I made some of the most deep, profound friendships I have ever had in my life, and learned so much about myself as a person. I learned that I was proud of my identity as a queer teenager. I learned that I don’t have to accept shallow, hollow relationships. I learned that people like me for the person I am, not the person I pretend to be. My Ithaka is in people. The connections I have with others, no matter the language they speak, are some of the most treasured things in my life. Because of this, and the love of languages Ms. Micha fostered in me, I hope to earn a master’s degree in linguistics to bridge language and cultural gaps through interpretation and translation. I hope, one day, I can use my education to help others find their own Ithaka, just like Ms. Micha did for me.