Around two weeks ago, I sat down with my old neighbor and family friend, Marco Rojas, for an interview. Marco used to live in Israel for a year. We talked about the conflict between Israel and Palestine. His experiences living in Israel are a firsthand view that contrasts with the narrative I have seen on the news and on social media platforms. This conversation shifted my thinking on how a different cultural experience can really affect someone’s thoughts. Marco Rojas acknowledged the immense suffering happening in both places, but emphasized the complex realities of security threats, historical context, and daily life in Israel. I have seen time and time again the idea that Israel’s actions amounted to genocide against Palestine, which is a view common among many American citizens. Marco didn’t dismiss the loss of lives on both sides, but he told me it was not a genocide, and that Israel’s attacks are in self-defense only. This surprised me. I realized how insulated most American perspectives had been when concerning this issue. These perspectives are formed almost entirely through social media posts and videos rather than through actual accounts from people living or who have lived in either nation. This interview shifted the way I think about foreign affairs. I now see that many people in America who strongly condemn Israel for their actions may do so without ever leaving the country or engaging directly in a conversation with people who have. We Americans consume short social media clips and headlines that align with our existing biases without questioning the source. Marco’s stories humanized the conflict in a way that articles and videos never could. I’ve also seen this with another recent event. I’ve heard friends criticize America’s recent actions against Iran, yet muiltple of my neighbors who fled Iran’s dictatorship celebrate the attacks on Iran. They are grateful for any pressure against the dictatorship that forced them to seek freedom in America. Their firsthand trauma under Iran’s dictatorship is something that many Americans who have never left the country don’t fully understand. My conversation with Marco revealed how profoundly cultural backgrounds and personal experiences can change our worldview. I now value seeking out voices from different backgrounds. Marco’s experience deepened my understanding of these conflicts. True insight often requires a different lens. My interview with Marco reminds me that behind every headline are human stories that can challenge and enrich our thinking.

I’m choosing the art section, and I created my own movie trailer for a real life mad genius. For my mad genius, I picked J. Robert Oppenheimer. The trailer I made is a recreation of Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer movie trailer. The reason I think J. Robert Oppenheimer is a good example of a mad genius is because he really is a genius, but he’s also crazy. For instance he once tried to poison his teacher with an apple he filled with cyanide. He also cheated on his wife, which although isn’t as bad as attempted murder, it too is something I find insane. I do however relate to one of Oppenheimer’s decisions. After his work on the Manhattan Project where he helped create the atomic bomb, Oppenheimer became a pacifist. While working on this bomb, Oppenheimer did not know it would be used on cities in Japan. The atomic bomb was used on Nagasaki and Hiroshima. The death toll on Japanese civilians was extremely high after these bombings, and Oppenheimer regretted working on the Manhattan Project because of this. Most mad geniuses would not care about the death of so many, but even though Oppenheimer tried to murder someone in the past, he did care about those deaths in Japan. I would have become a pacifist too if I was responsible for the deaths of so many. J. Robert Oppenheimer was a complicated man to say the least, but there is no doubt that this complicated man was a mad genius. The trailer I made is supposed to capture that madness, and I think it does a really great job at doing that. After watching Nolan’s film and research Oppenheimer on my own, I realized that he is a great example of a real life mad genius, which is why I’m submitting a project based on him.

Books have genuinely changed how I see the world, especially when it comes to love. Two books in particular, the Bible and Eleanor & Park, shifted my whole understanding of love. These books moved me away from thinking of love as this conditional, feel-good emotion. These books didn’t just change my perspective. They reshaped what I actually want in a relationship. The Bible, in 1 Corinthians 13, gave me a practical blueprint for love. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud…” That passage describes love not as butterflies, passion, or some transaction, but as a daily choice. In a culture that loves to romanticize drama and selfishness, those words felt like a challenge. I realized that love is forgiveness. It made me want to pursue someone who forgives and to become that kind of person myself. I want to be someone who protects my future partner’s peace, someone who trusts her heart, and someone who doesn’t keep score when things get hard. Eleanor & Park taught me something else about love. It’s the story of two awkward teenagers who find each other in the middle of a really tough time in their lives, but that toughness fades when they let each other into their lives. What stuck with me most was Park’s love for Eleanor. Even after she ghosts him for a whole year, his feelings don’t waver. His love stays steady, patient, and loyal through the silence and distance that Eleanor left him with. That book showed me love doesn’t have to be fragile. It can be an anchor when everything else is falling apart. Reading their story made the Bible’s ideas feel real and human. It made me feel like yes, this kind of love actually can exist. Together, these two books completely changed what I’m looking for. I don’t want casual or convenient anymore. I want the unyielding kind of love that stays patient through misunderstandings, kind in conflict, and hopeful after a long time apart. I want to love someone with the selflessness Paul describes and the quiet resilience Park shows. And I want to be loved that way too. I want to be fully accepted, without conditions. This shift has found its way into my life. I catch myself working on being slower to anger and quicker to forgive, even in friendships, so I’ll be ready when the real thing comes along. I’m more intentional now about who I want to be and the kind of person I hope to find. At the end of the day, the Bible gave me the principles, and Eleanor & Park gave me a story that made those principles feel possible. These books guided me toward a more mature, grounded version of love. It’s no longer just settling in a relationship thats hard to be in. It’s about choosing, nurturing, and fighting to build something real and enduring. That clarity has brought me a lot of peace and hope for the future.

My name is Trey Macholl, and I am an aspiring filmmaker deeply passionate about using cinema to tell stories that heal, connect, and transform lives. Currently, I am working with Living Word Studios as the Digital Imaging Technician (DIT) and assistant editor on a feature film titled For Preston. This project follows three men on a heartfelt road trip to honor their late friend Preston. Through their journey, the film explores the powerful truth that no man is an island. It delivers an important message about mental health. That message is that we are not meant to walk through life alone, and when struggles arise, we must reach out and talk to someone. I am incredibly passionate about this story because it addresses isolation and vulnerability in an honest way that can genuinely help audiences. My involvement in For Preston has been hands-on and formative. As DIT, I manage digital footage on set, while also assisting in editing. This experience has shown me both the high creative and technical demands of working on a movie,but I still love filmmaking. This August, I will begin my studies in Film and Television Production at Western Carolina University. This opportunity represents a major step toward my goal of becoming a professional storyteller, but it also brings significant financial challenges, particularly with housing costs. This scholarship would directly support my ability to focus on my education without the burden of unstable living arrangements, which allows me to fully focus on learning. Films have profoundly changed my life, and this personal transformation fuels my passion for filmmaking. Growing up, movies were more than entertainment. When I watched Gladiator, I learned that our lives do not belong solely to ourselves but to the people who depend on us. Boyz n the Hood taught me the power of being resilience during hardships. Most importantly, the character Matthew Murdock from the Netflix series, Daredevil, helped me discover and strengthen my faith in God. These stories provided lessons, comfort, and guidance when I needed them most. I am driven to create films that can do the same for others. By supporting my education and continued work on meaningful projects like For Preston, this scholarship would enable me to contribute to more life-changing films. I am eager to grow as a filmmaker who brings important stories to the screen, especially those that uplift and connect people. Thank you for considering my application and for helping to make independent filmmaking more accessible through this scholarship.

I plan to major in Fine Arts with a minor in Business. This combination is not random. It is the exact blueprint I have designed to launch and run my own film production company after college. From the moment I first sat behind an editing timeline, I knew my future belonged in film. Every cut and transition brings me a profound sense of peace and excitement that nothing else does. Fine Arts will sharpen my technical and creative skills—storyboarding, cinematography, directing, and especially editing—while the Business minor will give me the practical tools of budgeting, marketing, contracts, and scaling a company. Both fields of study will turn my passion into a sustainable career I can control. I have chosen an entrepreneurial path because I don´t want to let someone else dictate my creative vision. The traditional film industry is gate-kept by studios and producers who often prioritize profit over art. I want to be my own boss so I can green-light the stories I believe in, hire the collaborators I respect, and decide exactly how my films reach audiences. Entrepreneurship gives me the freedom to build a company that reflects my values instead of compromising them for a paycheck. What separates me from the thousands of aspiring filmmakers who never make it is simple, passion. While many chase trends or seek quick fame, I am genuinely happiest when I am editing. That deep joy is fuel. It keeps me working at 3 a.m. when a scene finally clicks, and it will keep me pushing through the inevitable setbacks of starting a business. My Business minor ensures I am not just an artist but also a strategist who understands cash flow, audience analytics, and brand building. Most failed film startups collapse because the founders lack either the creative fire or the business discipline. I will have both. To me, a successful life is not measured by money, fame, or titles. A successful life is one in which I wake up excited to work and go to bed fulfilled. That feeling arrives every time I lose myself in the editing process—when hours disappear and a story finally breathes on screen. Owning my film company will let me chase that feeling every single day while building something lasting. Success, for me, is the freedom to create without permission and the quiet satisfaction of knowing I turned my greatest source of happiness into a thriving career. By combining artistic mastery with business principles and letting unrelenting passion drive every decision, I am not just hoping to succeed—I will. College is the launchpad, entrepreneurship is the plane, and a life spent editing the films I love is the destination. That is the future I am building, one frame at a time.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Rowe asked my kindergarten class. My hand shot up in the air eager to share my aspiration of following in my uncle's footsteps as a cop. Like other kids in my class, that dream changed as I did. My parents and teachers guided me with many life lessons, but none could prepare me for cancer - the disease that stole my brother. Mickey was diagnosed at four; I was seven. While kids my age were learning to ride bikes and shoot layups, my two little brothers and I were building forts out of sheets preparing for sleepovers in a fluorescent lit sterile hospital room. 18 months after the diagnosis, instead of cuddling up by our fireplace with Mickey, my brother Tyce, and our parents watching Christmas movies, our family was halfway across the country. We were helplessly watching Mick get alternative treatments in an attempt for him to experience another Christmas. That Christmas never came. On December 13, 2016, I lost my brother, my joy, and my faith in God. I spent 8 years wrestling with grief. During that time, I also discovered video editing. To cope, I always searched for distractions on a screen, but editing was the first thing I did that actually felt good. I wasn't just consuming content; I was creating it. I filmed videos in my backyard and spent hours obsessing over the details, perfecting every cut and transition. I know life isn't perfect, but videos can be. I wanted my work to help people escape their suffering- even for a moment. No matter how much pain I carried, if I could give other people an outlet, it was worth it. That passion became my compass. Movies have always been my escape. When I was at my lowest struggling with depression, I'd turn on something that would lift my spirits or something sad, helping me realize I wasn't alone. When everyone else was asleep and the world fell silent, movies kept me company. They quieted my mind and helped me find peace. Eventually, I was able to sleep again. I owe that to the brilliant films that spoke to me like no one else could. Each film taught me a lesson. Gladiator showed me life isn't just about you- it's about the people who depend on you. Superman taught me that making mistakes is part of being human. Boyz in the Hood - the film I was named after - showed me the power of having resilience and compassion even in hardship. Movies didn´t just teach me life lessons, but television shows have as well. Daredevil is one of these shows and it´s about a character named Matthew, who is a lawyer by day, vigilante by night, and a character I deeply relate to. Peeling back what´s on the surface, when he´s not raging against assassins and seeking justice for the underprivileged in court, he is just a guy struggling with faith, grief, and purpose. One of the strongest aspects of Matt’s character is his faith. He calls out the injustices going on in Hell´s Kitchen, and even though he’s a vigilante, he fights criminals without the intent to kill, believing that taking a life would cross a moral line that he couldn’t return from. His faith acts as a compass and a burden guiding him. That faith is tested when Matt loses the love of his life. The loss broke Matt and made him feel resentment towards God. Matt felt like he was, “...alone in this world.¨ That’s how I felt when I lost Mick. I was so mad at God for taking away Mickey I turned my back on Him. I thought if God could allow the death of an innocent child and many other injustices in the world, there was no way He could be all good. I stopped putting my faith in Him. I was just like Matt, I lost my happiness and felt void of meaning. Looking to escape that deafening feeling, I turned to my television. Eventually, I watched Daredevil and it changed my life. Matt´s story didn´t end with him losing his faith. Through the help of his friends, he eventually found his way back. Watching his journey unfold gave me hope that my own loss of faith didn’t have to be permanent. The challenges Matt and I face are religious. We struggle, like all Christians, not to fall into sin and we wrestle with doubt. This line Matt says actually helped me regain my faith, ¨God´s plan is like a beautiful tapestry and the tragedy of being human is that we only get to see it from the back with all the ragged threads and muddy colors. We only get a hint at the true beauty that would be revealed if we could see the whole pattern on the other side as God does.¨ That line really put things in perspective for me. Just because bad things happen, doesn't mean that God is bad, it just means we as humans cannot see the whole pattern. Daredevil restored my faith in God and in turn, helped me heal and explore my aspirations. Movies and television have shaped the way I see the world, but editing taught me how to shape it for others. I felt completely at home working on the film Couples Getaway during my volunteership at Living Word Studios. I saw firsthand how a story evolved from raw footage into something powerful enough to move an audience - it was magical. Being a film editor would be a dream come true and who I'm meant to be. My purpose is to bring comfort and connection through storytelling. When I think back to my grief-filled, sleepless nights, I remember how film gave me an outlet. I want to give that same gift to others. Film editing isn't just my career goal – it's my identity, my healing, and my purpose.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Rowe asked my kindergarten class. My hand shot up in the air eager to share my aspiration of following in my uncle's footsteps as a cop. Like other kids in my class, that dream changed as I did. My parents and teachers guided me with many life lessons, but none could prepare me for cancer - the disease that stole my brother and altered my life. Mickey was diagnosed at four; I was seven. While other kids were learning to ride bikes and shoot layups, my two little brothers and I were building forts out of sheets preparing for sleepovers in a fluorescent lit sterile hospital room. 18 months after the diagnosis, instead of cuddling up by our fireplace watching Christmas movies, our family was halfway across the country. We were helplessly watching Mick get alternative treatments in an attempt for him to experience another Christmas. That Christmas never came. On December 13, 2016, I lost my brother and my joy. I spent 8 years wrestling with grief. During that time, I also discovered video editing. To cope, I always searched for distractions on a screen, but editing was the first thing I did that actually felt good. I wasn't just consuming content; I was creating it. I filmed videos in my backyard and spent hours obsessing over the details, perfecting every cut and transition. I know firsthand life isn't perfect, but movies can be. I wanted my work to help people escape their suffering- even for a moment. No matter how much pain I carried, if I could give other people an outlet, it was worth it. That passion became my compass. Movies have always been my escape. When I was at my lowest struggling with depression and insomnia, I'd turn on something that would lift my spirits or something sad, helping me realize I wasn't alone. When everyone else was asleep and the world fell silent, movies kept me company. They quieted my mind, helping me find peace. Eventually, I was able to sleep again. I owe that to the brilliant films that spoke to me like no one else could. Each film taught me a lesson. Gladiator showed me life isn't just about you- it's about the people who depend on you, Superman taught me that making mistakes is part of being human, and Boyz in the Hood, showed me the power of having resilience and compassion even in hardship. Movies have shaped the way I see the world, but editing taught me how to shape it for others. I created my own editing position with my school´s theater program where I edited promotional social media posts for them. It was breathtaking seeing how their musical came together from students on a bare stage reading lines from a paper to actors fully embodying their characters in a vibrate and colorful set. I also felt completely at home assisting the editor on the film Couples Getaway during my volunteership at Living Word Studios. I saw firsthand how a story evolved from raw footage into something powerful enough to move an audience - it was magical. Being a film editor would be a dream come true and who I'm meant to be. My purpose is to bring comfort and connection through storytelling. When I think back to my grief-filled, sleepless nights, I remember how film gave me an outlet. I want to give that same gift to others. Film editing isn't just my career path – it's my identity, my healing, and my purpose.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Rowe asked my kindergarten class. My hand shot up in the air eager to share my aspiration of following in my uncle's footsteps as a cop. Like other kids in my class, that dream changed as I did. My parents and teachers guided me with many life lessons, but none could prepare me for cancer - the disease that stole my brother and altered my life. Mickey was diagnosed at four; I was seven. While kids my age were learning to ride bikes and shooting layups, my two little brothers and I were building forts out of sheets preparing for sleepovers in a fluorescent lit sterile hospital room. 18 months after the diagnosis, instead of cuddling up by our fireplace with Mickey, my brother, Tyce, and our parents watching Christmas movies, our family was halfway across the country. We were helplessly watching Mick get alternative treatments in an attempt for him to experience another Christmas. That Christmas never came. On December 13, 2016, I lost my brother and my joy. I spent 8 years wrestling with grief. During that time, I also discovered video editing. To cope, I always searched for distractions on a screen, but editing was the first thing I did that actually felt good. I know firsthand life isn't perfect, but movies and videos can be. I wanted my work to help people escape their suffering- even for a moment. No matter how much pain I carried, if I could give other people an outlet, it was worth it. That passion became my compass. Movies have always been my escape. When I was at my lowest struggling with depression and insomnia, I'd turn on something that would lift my spirits or something sad, helping me realize I wasn't alone. When everyone else was asleep and the world fell silent, movies kept me company. They quieted my mind, helping me find peace. Eventually, I was able to sleep again. I owe that to the brilliant films that spoke to me like no one else could. Each film taught me a lesson. Gladiator showed me life isn't just about you- it's about the people who depend on you, and Superman taught me that making mistakes is part of being human. Movies have shaped the way I see the world, but editing taught me how to shape it for others. I felt completely at home assisting the editor on the Christian film Couples Getaway during my volunteership at Living Word Studios. I saw firsthand how a story evolved from raw footage into something powerful enough to move an audience - it was magical. The goal of this film was to promote healthy marriages by showcasing how important communication is. This film also promotes prayer for those who are struggling in their marriage. I could not attach a link to the film as it was just released in theaters and is not streaming anywhere yet, but I have attached a link to the trailer. While working on the film, I was inspired by Mick, and the many films that made me who I am. Being a film editor would be a dream come true and who I'm meant to be. My purpose is to bring comfort and connection through storytelling. When I think back to my grief-filled, sleepless nights, I remember how film gave me an outlet. I want to give that same gift to others. Film editing isn't just my career goal – it's my identity, my healing, and my purpose.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Mrs. Rowe asked my kindergarten class. My hand shot up in the air eager to share my aspiration of following in my uncle's footsteps as a cop. Like other kids in my class, that dream changed as I did. My parents and teachers guided me with many life lessons, but none could prepare me for cancer - the disease that stole my brother and altered my life. Mickey was diagnosed at four; I was seven. While kids my age were learning to ride bikes and shoot layups, my two little brothers and I were building forts out of sheets preparing for sleepovers in a fluorescent lit sterile hospital room. 18 months after the diagnosis, instead of cuddling up by our fireplace with Mickey, my brother, Tyce, and our parents watching Christmas movies, our family was halfway across the country. We were helplessly watching Mick get alternative treatments in an attempt for him to experience another Christmas. That Christmas never came. On December 13, 2016, I lost my brother and my joy. I spent 8 years wrestling with grief. During that time, I also discovered video editing. To cope, I always searched for distractions on a screen, but editing was the first thing I did that actually felt good. I wasn't just consuming content; I was creating it. I filmed little videos in my backyard with Tyce and spent hours obsessing over the details, perfecting every cut and transition. I know firsthand life isn't perfect, but movies can be. I wanted my work to help people escape their suffering- even for a moment. No matter how much pain I carried, if I could give other people an outlet, it was worth it. That passion became my compass. Movies have always been my escape. When I was at my lowest struggling with depression and insomnia, I'd turn on something that would lift my spirits or something sad, helping me realize I wasn't alone. When everyone else was asleep and the world felt silent, movies kept me company. They quieted my mind and helped me find peace. Eventually, I was able to sleep again. I owe that to the brilliant films that spoke to me like no one else could. Each film taught me a lesson. Gladiator showed me life isn't just about you- it's about the people who depend on you. Superman taught me that making mistakes is part of being human. Boyz in the Hood - the film I was named after - showed me the power of having resilience and compassion even in hardship. Movies have shaped the way I see the world, but editing taught me how to shape it for others. I felt completely at home assisting the editor on the film Couples Getaway during my internship at Living Word Studios. I saw firsthand how a story evolved from raw footage into something powerful enough to move an audience - it was magical. Being a film editor would be a dream come true and who I'm meant to be. My purpose is to bring comfort and connection through storytelling. When I think back to my grief-filled, sleepless nights, I remember how film gave me an outlet. I want to give that same gift to others. Film editing isn't just my career goal – it's my identity, my healing, and my purpose.