I want my impact to center on creating artistic spaces where people feel seen, valued, and free to express who they are without fear of judgment or limitation. As a dancer, I have experienced firsthand how powerful it is when a studio, rehearsal room, or performance space becomes more than just a place to train—it becomes a community built on trust, respect, and belonging. That experience has shaped my vision for how I want to use my education moving forward and how I define success as an artist. Through my training in dance, I have developed not only technical skill, but also discipline, adaptability, and the ability to communicate emotion and story through movement. These are tools I intend to carry into a professional performance career, but also into education and community work. I do not see performance and teaching as separate paths, but as interconnected ways of giving back. The stage allows me to reach audiences emotionally, while the classroom and rehearsal space allow me to directly invest in the next generation of artists. One of my strongest goals is to become a mentor and educator for younger dancers, especially those who do not always see themselves represented in traditional dance environments. I understand how important it is for a student to feel affirmed by the people guiding them. A teacher’s belief can shape whether a student continues or quits, whether they feel worthy or out of place. I want to be the kind of educator who prioritizes confidence, individuality, and healthy artistic development over perfection or comparison. My hope is to help dancers build not only technique, but also a strong sense of identity and self-worth. I am especially inspired by artists and communities that challenge traditional boundaries in dance and identity—people who use their work to expand what is considered acceptable, visible, and valued in the arts. Their example has shown me that dance is not just performance; it is advocacy, storytelling, and transformation. I want to contribute to that ongoing shift by helping create inclusive environments where LGBTQ+ and gender nonconforming artists are not only welcomed, but fully celebrated. Representation matters deeply in the arts, and I want to be part of expanding what that representation looks like both onstage and behind the scenes. After graduation, I plan to give back through a combination of professional performance, teaching, and community engagement. I hope to work with studios, schools, and outreach programs that bring dance into communities where access to the arts may be limited. I want to help make dance more approachable and inclusive, so that more people can experience the joy, discipline, and self-expression it offers. I also hope to continue building spaces where collaboration and empathy are central values. Whether I am performing in a company, assisting in a classroom, or leading a workshop, I want to foster environments where people feel empowered to take risks and express themselves fully. Ultimately, I see my education as preparation for service. It is not only about advancing my own career, but about equipping me to contribute meaningfully to others. My goal is to use my training to uplift, connect, and advocate—helping shape a future where the arts remain a space of authenticity, accessibility, and belonging for everyone.

I plan to make a positive impact on the world through my art by using dance as a way to connect people, tell meaningful stories, and create spaces where others feel seen and valued. Dance is one of the most powerful forms of communication because it goes beyond language. It allows emotion, struggle, joy, and growth to be expressed in a way that audiences can feel, even if they cannot put it into words. As a performer, I want to contribute to work that is honest and human. I am especially drawn to pieces that explore resilience, identity, and emotional complexity because those are experiences that everyone can relate to in some form. My goal is to perform in a way that is not only technically strong, but also emotionally intentional, so that audiences leave feeling moved, reflected, or inspired. Beyond performance, I plan to make an impact through teaching and mentorship. I want to create supportive environments for young dancers where they feel encouraged rather than intimidated, and where growth is prioritized over perfection. I understand how important it is for students to have mentors who believe in them, especially during challenging moments in training. I also hope to use dance as a tool for community engagement by participating in outreach programs, workshops, and collaborative projects that bring movement into spaces where people may not normally have access to it. Whether in schools or community settings, I want to help make dance more accessible and inclusive. Ultimately, my goal is to use my art not only to perform, but to uplift others, build connection, and contribute something meaningful to the communities I am part of.

My primary goal is to build a sustainable career as a professional dancer while continuing to grow as a leader, educator, and contributor to the performing arts community. I want to perform in a professional company or theatrical setting, where I can consistently train, collaborate with other artists, and develop my artistry over time. In addition to performing, I also hope to eventually transition into teaching and mentorship so I can help younger dancers build confidence, technique, and resilience in a demanding field. To reach these goals, my immediate focus is completing my formal dance education with strong technical training in ballet and contemporary techniques, as well as gaining performance experience through school productions, workshops, and external auditions. Consistency in daily training is essential, so I plan to continue taking technique classes, rehearsing regularly, and seeking corrections and feedback from instructors. I also intend to attend intensives and master classes whenever possible to broaden my exposure to different styles and professional expectations. Financially, pursuing this path requires careful planning. My estimated annual costs include approximately $18,000–$25,000 for tuition, $2,000–$3,500 for dancewear and shoes (including frequent replacement of ballet shoes), $1,000–$2,000 for workshops and audition fees, and additional expenses for transportation, performance-related travel, and academic materials. Realistically, this brings my yearly budget to roughly $22,000–$30,000 depending on opportunities and training intensity. I currently rely on a combination of family support, personal savings, and work, but additional scholarship support is essential to maintaining consistent training without interruption. To manage these costs, I plan to continue seeking scholarships, work opportunities related to the arts, and performance stipends when available. I also intend to budget carefully by prioritizing training expenses first, since consistent studio time and proper footwear directly affect my ability to progress. If needed, I will adjust my course load or work schedule during intensive training periods to ensure I can fully commit to performance opportunities without compromising my development. In the next 1–2 years, my focus will be on strengthening my technical foundation, expanding my repertoire, and building professional connections through auditions and networking. Within 3–5 years, my goal is to secure a position with a company or performance organization where I can continue growing as a dancer. Long term, I plan to transition into teaching and mentorship, using my experience to support the next generation of dancers. I have also considered multiple paths for success. If a full-time company contract is not immediately available, I plan to pursue freelance performance work, teaching opportunities, and continued training to remain active in the field while building my résumé. Flexibility is important, but my commitment to dance remains constant. Ultimately, my plan is grounded in discipline, financial responsibility, and long-term vision. With access to the right resources and continued support, I am confident in my ability to achieve a professional career in dance while contributing meaningfully to the arts community.

I found TXT through recommendations from other K-pop fans and online performances that were shared across social media platforms. Once I began listening more intentionally, I was drawn in by their storytelling, musical evolution, and the way each member contributes a distinct presence to their performances. Their ability to blend emotional themes with strong concepts made them stand out to me immediately. I think one of the most important characteristics of a MOA is genuine, respectful support. Being a MOA is not just about streaming music or celebrating achievements, but also about appreciating TXT as artists and individuals. It also means encouraging a positive fan culture—one that uplifts rather than compares or criticizes unfairly. Yes, I do have a TXT bias. I chose them because of their stage presence, versatility, and the emotional depth they bring to their performances. I admire how they can shift between powerful, high-energy concepts and softer, more emotional storytelling while still maintaining authenticity. My ult bias across all groups tends to be someone who demonstrates strong artistry, consistency, and emotional expression in performance. I am drawn to performers who feel genuine on stage and who use their platform to connect with audiences in meaningful ways, rather than just performing technically. My favorite TXT song is “0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You).” I love it because it captures emotional intensity in both its lyrics and production. The song feels cinematic and raw, and it highlights TXT’s ability to blend rock influences with pop structure while still telling a deeply relatable story about love, uncertainty, and emotional connection. I have not yet had the opportunity to see TXT live in concert, but it is something I would genuinely love to experience in the future. I can only imagine how powerful their performances must feel in person, especially given how much energy and detail they bring to their stages online. My favorite TXT album concept is The Chaos Chapter era. I appreciate how it explores emotional complexity, growth, and identity in a way that feels both personal and universal. The visuals, music, and storytelling all work together to create a cohesive narrative that reflects struggle, change, and self-discovery. I am currently paying for school through a combination of personal savings, family support, and ongoing work to manage my educational and training-related expenses. Balancing these responsibilities requires careful budgeting and prioritization, especially as I continue investing in my dance education and performance training. This scholarship would help me significantly by easing the financial burden of tuition, training costs, and necessary materials. It would allow me to focus more fully on my education and artistic development without constantly worrying about financial strain. It would also help fill gaps in funding for dance classes, performance opportunities, and academic expenses that are essential to my growth. TXT has influenced me in a positive way by encouraging emotional honesty, self-expression, and resilience. Their music often reflects themes of growth and navigating difficult emotions, which has helped me feel more comfortable expressing myself through my own art and understanding that vulnerability can be a strength. I will use my education to do good in the world through dance, storytelling, and leadership. My goal is to become a professional dancer who not only performs but also contributes to creating meaningful, accessible art. I also hope to mentor younger artists and help build supportive creative spaces where people feel seen, encouraged, and inspired to pursue their passions.

I deserve this scholarship because I combine artistic dedication with leadership, resilience, and a proven commitment to serving my community—qualities that distinguish me from other applicants and amplify the impact this investment would have. First, my path is defined by discipline and perseverance in a highly competitive field. Dance demands daily physical and mental rigor, constant self-evaluation, and the ability to face rejection without losing purpose. I have remained fully committed to this path not because it is easy, but because it is meaningful. I consistently show up prepared, adaptable, and willing to grow, whether in rehearsals, auditions, or academic settings. This resilience has shaped me into someone who does not retreat when challenged, but instead refines their craft and pushes forward with intention. What sets me apart is that I do not pursue success in isolation. Alongside my artistic goals, I actively take on leadership roles that strengthen the communities I am part of. As the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for my campus’s Campus Activities Board, I plan and execute events that bring students together beyond the classroom. This role requires problem-solving, communication, budgeting, and logistical planning—skills that extend far beyond performance. I balance these responsibilities with my academic and artistic workload, demonstrating strong time management and accountability. I understand how to lead with both structure and empathy, ensuring that others feel welcomed, supported, and engaged. Additionally, my perspective bridges creativity and service. I approach leadership with the same intentionality I bring to dance: listening, collaborating, and responding thoughtfully to the people around me. In rehearsals, committees, and group projects, I am known as someone others can rely on—organized, prepared, and supportive. I do not simply participate; I invest in the success of the group as a whole. This scholarship would not only ease financial strain—it would directly support a student who maximizes every opportunity given to them. I am deeply aware of the privilege of receiving support, and I approach my education with gratitude and responsibility. I use available resources fully, seek mentorship, and apply what I learn to real-world leadership and artistic growth. Looking ahead, my long-term goal is to build a sustainable career in dance while giving back through mentorship, teaching, and community engagement. I want to help younger artists find confidence, discipline, and belonging—especially those navigating demanding or uncertain paths. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to focus more fully on my training and leadership development, increasing my capacity to contribute meaningfully both now and in the future. Ultimately, what gives me an advantage is not just talent or ambition, but consistency, purpose, and impact. I am someone who follows through, lifts others up, and turns opportunity into action. This scholarship would be an investment in a student who is committed not only to personal success, but to using that success to strengthen the communities they are part of.

To me, leadership is not simply about holding a title or being the loudest person in the room. I believe leadership is about creating positive environments, supporting others, and helping people feel valued and connected. The qualities that make me a leader are empathy, reliability, perseverance, and my ability to bring people together through both collaboration and community involvement. As a rising senior at Point Park University majoring in Dance with a minor in Musical Theatre, I have spent the last several years balancing rigorous conservatory training with academics, leadership opportunities, and community involvement. One of the most meaningful leadership experiences I have had was serving as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board. In this role, I planned off-campus events designed to help students connect with one another outside of academics and build a stronger sense of community. Organizing these events required communication, teamwork, organization, and adaptability. I worked with outside venues, coordinated logistics, promoted events, and helped ensure students had positive experiences. What made this role especially meaningful to me was understanding how important connection and belonging can be for college students. As someone who moved across the country from Los Angeles for school, I understand how overwhelming and isolating college can sometimes feel. Because of that, I approached leadership with the goal of helping people feel included and supported. I learned that leadership is often about paying attention to the needs of others and creating opportunities for people to feel connected. My experiences in the performing arts have also shaped my leadership style. Dance and theatre require trust, communication, and the ability to collaborate closely with others toward a shared goal. This year, I became involved with Point Park’s competitive ballroom team, where my partner and I placed at every competition we attended. Ballroom especially taught me that leadership is not about individual success alone, but about supporting and encouraging the people around you. A strong partnership depends on patience, consistency, and mutual respect. Another quality that makes me a leader is perseverance. Balancing conservatory training, academics, competitions, leadership responsibilities, work, and personal challenges has not always been easy. At times, the pressure has felt overwhelming, especially while managing anxiety and OCD. However, those experiences taught me resilience and discipline while also making me more empathetic toward others who may be quietly struggling with their own challenges. I also believe leadership means leading by example. I have maintained strong academics and earned a place on the Dean’s List every semester while remaining heavily involved on campus and within the arts community. My family has sacrificed greatly to support my education, especially as tuition costs continue to rise, and that motivates me to work as hard as possible and make the most of every opportunity I have been given. Ultimately, what makes me a leader is my desire to positively impact the people and communities around me. I want others to feel encouraged, supported, and included. Whether through leadership roles, artistic collaboration, or everyday interactions, I believe strong leaders are people who help others grow while continuing to grow themselves.

One of the most meaningful relationships in my life has been my relationship with my grandmother. For as long as I can remember, we have considered each other best friends. She was not only my grandmother, but also one of the most constant sources of love, encouragement, and emotional support in my life. Our relationship shaped the way I view family, connection, and the importance of showing up for the people you care about. When I was younger, my grandmother was my sister and I's nanny for several years. Looking back, we often joke that she was like our own personal Mary Poppins. Ironically, Mary Poppins was also the first musical I ever saw as a child, and it sparked my love for theatre because I was completely captivated by the magic, storytelling, and emotional connection of live performance. In many ways, my grandmother became tied to that feeling of warmth, imagination, and creativity that eventually led me to pursue a career in the performing arts. Throughout my life, she has supported every part of my journey. She attended my dance recitals, theatre performances, and important milestones, always making me feel seen and celebrated. Even when I doubted myself, she consistently believed in me. As I grew older and eventually moved across the country from Los Angeles to attend Point Park University as a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor, our relationship remained incredibly important to me. Even from thousands of miles away, we still FaceTime multiple times a week. Whether we are talking about school, dance, relationships, stress, or just everyday life, those conversations help me feel grounded and connected to home. In a demanding conservatory environment where schedules can become overwhelming, knowing I have someone who will always listen and encourage me means more than I can fully express. One of the most meaningful things she ever gave me was a letter she wrote when I graduated high school. In the letter, she reflected on my childhood, our relationship, and the person I had become. What impacted me most was not simply that she was proud of my accomplishments, but that she emphasized my character and the way I treat others. She wrote, “none of those things matter as much as knowing you are a beautiful soul with outstanding character.” That line has stayed with me because it reminded me that success means very little without kindness, empathy, and strong relationships. Her influence shaped the way I build connections with others because she always made people feel valued, listened to, and loved unconditionally. She taught me that relationships are not built through grand gestures alone, but through consistency, support, humor, and simply being present for people over time. I try to bring those values into my own friendships, leadership roles, and artistic collaborations. Whether through planning events for students as part of Point Park’s Campus Activities Board, supporting teammates on the ballroom team, or simply showing up for friends during stressful moments, I try to approach relationships with the same compassion and loyalty she showed me. My grandmother also taught me the importance of authenticity. In a letter she wrote when I graduated high school, she expressed how grateful she was that I felt comfortable embracing my identity and becoming confident in who I am. Knowing that I had unconditional support from someone so important to me gave me confidence during moments when I struggled with insecurity or uncertainty about the future. Ultimately, my relationship with my grandmother shaped not only who I am personally, but also the kind of relationships I hope to build throughout my life. She taught me that human connection is one of the most valuable things a person can have. Long after achievements, titles, or recognition fade, the way we love and support others is what people truly remember. That lesson continues to influence the way I move through the world and the kind of person I hope to become.

My experiences with mental health, particularly living with severe anxiety and OCD, have shaped nearly every aspect of my life, including the way I approach my goals, relationships, and understanding of other people. For a long time, I viewed my anxiety as something that only created obstacles. Over time, however, I have learned that while mental health challenges can be difficult, they can also deepen empathy, self-awareness, and resilience in ways that significantly shape a person’s perspective on the world. As a student at Point Park University studying dance and musical theatre, I exist in an environment that is both creatively fulfilling and emotionally demanding. Conservatory-style training involves constant evaluation, comparison, physical exhaustion, and uncertainty about the future. Living with anxiety and OCD in that environment has sometimes made me overly critical of myself or caused me to overthink situations that others might dismiss easily. My mind often struggles to “turn off,” and there have been moments where stress and perfectionism felt overwhelming. At the same time, these experiences have taught me perseverance and discipline. Because I understand how difficult it can be to navigate anxiety while still meeting responsibilities and pursuing goals, I have become more intentional about continuing to push forward even during stressful periods. Managing mental health while balancing academics, rehearsals, performances, work, and leadership responsibilities has strengthened my resilience and taught me that growth often happens gradually rather than all at once. My experiences with mental health have also strongly influenced my relationships with others. Living with anxiety and OCD has made me more aware that people are often dealing with struggles that may not be immediately visible. Someone can appear confident, successful, or outgoing while privately carrying stress, insecurity, or emotional pain. Because of this, I try to approach others with empathy and patience rather than assumptions or judgment. I think mental health challenges have also made me a better listener and friend. I understand how meaningful it can be when someone simply feels heard, supported, or accepted without shame. In both my friendships and leadership roles, I try to create spaces where people feel comfortable being honest about stress, self-doubt, or emotional struggles. Whether supporting classmates in demanding rehearsal environments, helping students feel connected through campus events, or simply checking in on friends during difficult moments, I have learned that small acts of compassion can make a significant difference. My understanding of the world has also changed because of my experiences with mental health. I have become much more aware of how much pressure people face academically, socially, professionally, and personally. Modern culture often encourages constant productivity and perfection, especially in competitive environments like the performing arts. Experiencing anxiety firsthand taught me the importance of balance, self-compassion, and recognizing that success means very little if a person is emotionally exhausted or disconnected from themselves. These experiences have also influenced my future goals. In addition to pursuing a career as a performer, choreographer, and educator, I hope to help create supportive and inclusive artistic spaces where people feel encouraged rather than intimidated. I want to contribute to environments where mental health is taken seriously and where individuals feel valued not only for their talent or achievements, but also for who they are as people. Although living with anxiety and OCD is still something I navigate every day, it has ultimately made me more empathetic, resilient, and understanding of others. It taught me that vulnerability is not weakness and that human connection often grows strongest when people feel safe enough to be honest about their struggles. Those lessons continue to shape both the person I am now and the kind of impact I hope to make in the future.

Although I am pursuing a degree in dance and musical theatre at Point Park University, I have always appreciated math because of the way it combines logic, structure, and problem-solving. What I enjoy most about math is that it teaches you how to think critically and approach challenges with patience and persistence. There is something satisfying about working through a difficult problem step by step and eventually arriving at a solution through reasoning and careful attention to detail. I also think my OCD has influenced the way I connect with math. As someone who struggles with obsessive thinking and anxiety, I often find comfort in structure, patterns, and predictability. Math provides a sense of order that can feel calming because there is usually a logical process and a clear solution. While OCD can sometimes make me overthink or become too focused on details, it has also strengthened my attention to precision and organization, which are qualities that help in mathematics. Another reason I value math is because it exists in many areas of life that people may not immediately associate with mathematics, including music and dance. In dance, timing, rhythm, spacing, and musicality all involve mathematical concepts. Choreography often relies on counting patterns, symmetry, and spatial awareness, which are all connected to mathematical thinking. Because of this, I have come to see math not just as numbers on a page, but as something deeply connected to creativity and artistic structure. Math has also taught me perseverance. There were many times growing up when I became frustrated with certain concepts, but learning to slow down and work through problems step by step helped me become more patient and resilient. That mindset has carried over into my artistic training as well. Most importantly, I love that math creates clarity in a world that can often feel uncertain. Even as someone pursuing a creative career, I appreciate the balance math provides between logic, discipline, and problem-solving.

One thing that has always made me feel a little “awkward” or different is the combination of my height, my anxiety-driven quirks from OCD, and the fact that I chose to pursue ballet despite not fitting the typical image many people associate with male ballet dancers. I’m about 5’5”, which is considered fairly short for a man, especially within the ballet world where male dancers are often expected to be taller and physically larger for partnering purposes. Growing up, I became very aware of my height because people constantly pointed it out, sometimes jokingly and sometimes in ways that made me feel insecure. Ironically, while being short can sometimes be an advantage in other styles of dance, in ballet it often made me feel like I did not fully fit the mold. When I first entered college as a Dance major at Point Park University, I was originally concentrating in ballet. Although I loved ballet and still deeply appreciate the art form, I eventually realized during my junior year that the professional ballet world often places a heavy emphasis on physical expectations that can be difficult to ignore. Height should not determine someone’s worth as an artist, but it can influence casting and partnering opportunities in ballet companies. Making the decision to switch my concentration from ballet to jazz was emotional because ballet had been such an important part of my life. However, it also taught me something important about self-awareness and growth. I realized that musical theatre and commercial dance environments often felt more natural and creatively fulfilling for me. In those spaces, individuality and personality are often celebrated more openly, and I felt freer to focus on performance quality and storytelling rather than constantly comparing my body type to industry expectations. In addition to insecurities about height, I have also struggled with OCD and anxiety, which sometimes show up in the form of unusual habits or routines. I tend to overthink small details, replay conversations in my head, and become very particular about organization and preparation. In dance and academics, this can sometimes help me stay disciplined and detail-oriented, but it can also become exhausting because my mind rarely slows down completely. For a long time, I worried that these traits made me “too much” or strange compared to other people. Over time, though, I have learned that the qualities that make someone feel awkward or different are often the same qualities that shape their strengths. My attention to detail has helped me succeed academically and artistically. My experiences with insecurity have made me more empathetic toward others who feel like they do not fit in. Most importantly, learning to embrace the parts of myself that once made me uncomfortable has helped me become more confident and authentic. I think everyone has something about themselves that feels awkward or out of place at times. For me, those experiences taught me that confidence does not come from perfectly fitting expectations, but from learning how to value yourself even when you feel different from the people around you.

I believe I should be considered for this scholarship because I have consistently worked to excel academically, contribute to my community, and pursue my goals with dedication and resilience despite financial and personal challenges. As a rising senior at Point Park University majoring in Dance with a minor in Musical Theatre, I have fully committed myself to both my education and my growth as an artist, leader, and member of my community. My college experience has challenged me academically, physically, emotionally, and financially, but those challenges have only strengthened my determination to succeed and positively impact others through the arts. Growing up in Los Angeles, I developed a passion for the performing arts at a young age. Dance became more than just an extracurricular activity for me; it became a source of confidence, discipline, and self-expression. I realized early on that the arts had the power to connect people and tell meaningful stories in ways that words sometimes cannot. That passion eventually led me across the country to Point Park University, where I chose to pursue conservatory-style training in dance while also studying musical theatre. Pursuing a degree in the performing arts is incredibly rewarding, but it is also extremely demanding. Conservatory-style training requires long hours of rehearsals, performances, physical conditioning, and coursework, all while preparing students for a highly competitive industry. Despite these challenges, I have maintained strong academic standing and earned a place on the Dean’s List every semester. I take great pride in balancing rigorous artistic training with academic success because it reflects the discipline, perseverance, and time management skills I have developed throughout college. In addition to academics, I have remained heavily involved in student life and leadership opportunities on campus. Last year, I served as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board. In this role, I planned and organized off-campus events designed to help students connect with one another and feel more involved within the campus community. Organizing events required communication with outside venues, coordinating logistics, collaborating with marketing teams, and ensuring students had positive and welcoming experiences. One of the most meaningful aspects of this position was the opportunity to help students build friendships and feel a greater sense of belonging on campus. As someone who moved far away from home for college, I understand how isolating and overwhelming that transition can sometimes feel. Because of that, I wanted to help create experiences where students could step away from stress, meet new people, and feel more connected to the university community. Leadership through service taught me that even small moments of connection can have a meaningful impact on people’s lives. This year, I also became involved with Point Park’s competitive ballroom team. Ballroom dancing has become one of the most rewarding experiences of my college career because it combines artistry, athleticism, teamwork, and discipline. My dance partner and I have placed at every competition we attended, and the experience has strengthened not only my technical abilities as a dancer, but also my communication and collaboration skills. Ballroom requires trust, patience, and the ability to support another person while working toward shared goals. Balancing competitions and rehearsals alongside my demanding academic and conservatory schedule taught me how to remain focused and committed even during periods of exhaustion and pressure. Outside of campus involvement, I have also volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust. Through this experience, I gained a deeper appreciation for arts accessibility, hospitality, and community engagement. I enjoyed helping audience members feel welcomed and comfortable while contributing to an environment where people from many different backgrounds could come together through live performance and storytelling. These experiences reinforced my belief that the arts can strengthen communities by creating shared experiences that encourage empathy and human connection. While I am incredibly grateful for the opportunities I have had at Point Park, financing my education continues to be a challenge for my family. I come from a middle-class family in Los Angeles, where the cost of living is extremely high, and tuition costs continue to rise each year. My parents have worked incredibly hard to support my education, and I have worked equally hard to make the most of every opportunity I have been given. Their sacrifices motivate me to continue pursuing excellence in both my academics and my future career. In the future, I hope to build a career as a performer, choreographer, and educator while also helping create inclusive and supportive artistic spaces for others. I want to use the performing arts not only as a form of entertainment, but also as a way to inspire people, build community, and encourage self-expression. Many of my own teachers and mentors shaped my confidence and growth both personally and artistically, and I hope to someday provide that same encouragement to future students and performers. Receiving this scholarship would help relieve some of the financial burden surrounding my education and allow me to continue focusing on my academic and artistic development during my final year of college. More importantly, it would represent an investment in my future goals and the positive impact I hope to make through leadership, education, and the performing arts. I have worked hard to grow not only as a student and artist, but also as a person who values service, perseverance, and community, and I hope to continue carrying those values into my future career and beyond.

As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, I use a variety of online platforms, tools, and resources to strengthen both my technical training and my understanding of the performing arts industry. Because dance and theatre are constantly evolving fields, online resources have become extremely valuable for continuing to learn outside of the classroom and staying connected to professional work happening around the world. One of the most important tools I use is social media, particularly Instagram and YouTube. While social media is often viewed primarily as entertainment, it has become a major educational resource within the performing arts community. Through Instagram, I follow professional dancers, choreographers, Broadway performers, ballet companies, and dance educators who regularly share class combinations, rehearsal footage, performance clips, and industry advice. Watching professionals work has helped me better understand artistry, musicality, performance quality, and professional expectations within the industry. YouTube has also been an incredibly useful resource for studying choreography, musical theatre performances, interviews, and dance history. I often watch recordings of professional productions, dance competitions, and master classes to observe different performance styles and creative approaches. This exposure has broadened my understanding of storytelling through movement and helped me think more critically about performance and choreography. Watching interviews with performers and choreographers has also given me insight into the realities of pursuing a career in the arts, including topics such as discipline, rejection, collaboration, and creative growth. In addition, online music platforms such as Spotify help me expand my understanding of musicality and performance interpretation. Exploring different genres of music helps me think about rhythm, emotional tone, and storytelling in choreography and performance. Since musical theatre and dance are so closely connected to music, developing a strong sense of musical interpretation is an important part of my training. I also use online resources for academic and professional development. Platforms like Google Scholar and online library databases help me research topics related to dance history, performance theory, and arts education for coursework and projects. In addition, I use professional networking and communication platforms to stay informed about auditions, workshops, summer intensives, and teaching opportunities. These resources help me better understand how to navigate the professional side of the performing arts industry. Another important aspect of online learning has been the ability to revisit and analyze my own work. Recording rehearsals and performances allows me to study my technique, performance quality, and stage presence more objectively. Being able to watch myself perform helps me identify areas for improvement and track my progress over time. Overall, online platforms and resources have helped me become a more informed, adaptable, and self-motivated learner. They allow me to continue developing outside of the classroom while staying connected to current trends and professional work within the arts industry. Most importantly, these tools have taught me how to actively seek knowledge, apply feedback, and continuously grow as both an artist and a student.

Faith has played an important role in shaping both my personal values and the way I approach my education and future goals. As the child of a pastor, I grew up in an environment where faith, service, and community were central parts of everyday life. While my understanding of faith has grown and evolved over time, it has consistently provided me with guidance, resilience, and a sense of purpose during both exciting and difficult moments in my life. One experience that deeply impacted me was when my family temporarily moved from Los Angeles to the Berkeley area so my father could complete the final year of his master’s program on campus. My family made significant sacrifices during that time. We moved into a small student housing apartment, and for the first time my sister and I shared a room. As a middle school student, leaving behind familiarity and adjusting to a completely new environment felt overwhelming at first. However, looking back, that experience became incredibly formative for me. Watching my parents prioritize education, faith, and long-term goals taught me the importance of perseverance and sacrifice. Their example showed me that meaningful growth often requires stepping outside of your comfort zone. That year also exposed me to a more diverse environment than the suburb where I grew up, broadening my perspective and helping me appreciate the value of community and inclusion. During our time in the Bay Area, I began taking classes at Berkeley Ballet Theater, which is where I truly fell in love with ballet and realized how deeply the performing arts connected with me. That experience ultimately influenced the path that led me to pursue dance professionally and attend Point Park University as a Dance major with a minor in Musical Theatre. Faith has continued to support me throughout college. Conservatory-style arts training is physically, emotionally, and academically demanding, and there have been many moments of stress, uncertainty, and self-doubt. Faith has helped ground me during those moments by reminding me to trust the process, continue working hard, and remain hopeful even when the future feels uncertain. Pursuing a career in the performing arts requires resilience because success is rarely immediate or guaranteed. My faith has encouraged me to stay committed to my goals while also remembering the importance of humility, compassion, and perseverance. In addition to faith, the people around me have strongly influenced my decision to pursue higher education. My parents’ sacrifices and support motivated me to take my education seriously and fully commit myself to my goals. My teachers and mentors also played an important role by encouraging my growth both artistically and personally. Through their guidance, I gained confidence in my abilities and began to believe that a career in the arts was truly possible for me. Beyond simply earning a degree, higher education has allowed me to grow into a more disciplined, empathetic, and well-rounded person. Through leadership roles, artistic collaboration, and community involvement, I have learned how important it is to use your talents in ways that positively impact others. In the future, I hope to build a career as a performer, choreographer, and educator while helping create inclusive and supportive artistic spaces for future generations. Instagram: @vinny.mohr

One thing I hope to build in my future is a career that combines performance, education, and community impact through the arts. As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, I have realized that the performing arts are about much more than entertainment. Dance and theatre have the power to bring people together, encourage empathy, and create spaces where individuals feel seen, inspired, and connected. I want to build a life and career that uses those qualities to positively impact others. Growing up in Los Angeles, I was surrounded by creativity and storytelling, but it was not until I began seriously training in dance that I understood how transformative the arts could be. Dance gave me confidence, discipline, and a sense of belonging during important stages of my life. Because of that experience, I want to help create similar opportunities for others, especially young people who may be struggling with confidence, identity, or finding community. One of the most important things I hope to build is an inclusive and supportive artistic environment. Through my experiences in college, leadership roles, and the performing arts community, I have learned how meaningful it is when people feel welcomed and encouraged. Last year, as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board, I worked to create events that helped students connect and feel part of the campus community. That experience reinforced my belief that strong communities are built through shared experiences, support, and human connection. In the future, I hope to build not only a successful performing career, but also opportunities for education and mentorship. I want to teach and choreograph while continuing to perform because I believe arts education can have a lasting impact on people’s lives. Many of my own teachers influenced me not only as an artist, but also as a person by encouraging me during moments of self-doubt and helping me grow in confidence. I hope to provide that same support to future students. I also hope to build stronger connections between the arts and local communities. I believe performances, outreach programs, and arts education initiatives can make the arts feel more accessible and welcoming to people from all backgrounds. Too often, artistic spaces can feel intimidating or financially inaccessible. I want to help create environments where more people feel they belong and are encouraged to participate creatively. Ultimately, the future I hope to build is one centered around creativity, empathy, and community. I want my work to positively impact others not only through performance, but also through mentorship, collaboration, and service. Even small moments of connection through art can leave lasting impressions on people’s lives, and I hope to spend my future helping create those moments for others.

One passage from Meditations that deeply resonates with me is: “You have power over your mind — not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” In this passage, Marcus Aurelius argues that true strength comes not from controlling the external world, but from mastering one’s internal response to it. The underlying meaning of this statement is that human suffering is often intensified by our attempts to control things that are ultimately outside our power. Marcus Aurelius suggests that peace and resilience are achieved when individuals stop focusing on external circumstances and instead focus on governing their own thoughts, attitudes, and reactions. The passage reflects the core principles of Stoic philosophy, which emphasize self-discipline, emotional regulation, and acceptance of uncertainty. However, Marcus Aurelius is not encouraging passivity or emotional detachment. Rather, he is arguing that people gain freedom when they recognize the distinction between what they can and cannot control. External events such as failure, rejection, illness, criticism, or unexpected change are unavoidable parts of life. According to Marcus Aurelius, the true test of character lies in how a person responds to these events internally. What makes this passage especially meaningful is that it challenges the common belief that strength comes from controlling outcomes. In reality, many aspects of life remain unpredictable regardless of how carefully someone plans or how hard they work. Marcus Aurelius argues that people often waste emotional energy fighting against uncertainty instead of developing resilience within themselves. By shifting focus inward, individuals become less dependent on external validation or circumstances for their sense of stability and self-worth. I also believe the passage explores the relationship between perception and suffering. External events themselves are not always what cause distress; rather, it is often the meaning people attach to those events that creates emotional pain. Two individuals can experience the same setback and react completely differently depending on their mindset. Marcus Aurelius suggests that the human mind has the ability to reinterpret hardship in a healthier and more constructive way. This idea does not deny the existence of pain or difficulty, but it proposes that people have more agency over their emotional responses than they may initially believe. This philosophy remains relevant in modern life because contemporary society often encourages people to seek constant control over their futures, careers, relationships, and public image. Social media, competition, and achievement-oriented cultures can create the illusion that success and happiness depend entirely on external outcomes. Marcus Aurelius challenges this mindset by suggesting that inner discipline and self-awareness matter more than external success alone. A person may achieve status, wealth, or recognition and still feel emotionally unstable if they have not developed control over their own thoughts and reactions. As a student in the performing arts, I find this passage particularly meaningful because artistic careers involve uncertainty, rejection, and constant evaluation. Performers cannot fully control casting decisions, audience reactions, or career opportunities. Focusing entirely on external validation can quickly lead to anxiety, discouragement, or burnout. Marcus Aurelius’s words remind me that while effort, discipline, and preparation are important, emotional stability ultimately depends on how I choose to interpret and respond to challenges. The passage also reflects a broader truth about maturity and personal growth. Developing control over one’s thoughts requires patience, self-awareness, and intentional practice. It is often easier to blame external circumstances for unhappiness than to examine one’s own perspective and emotional habits. Marcus Aurelius argues that real strength is internal because external conditions will always change. By learning to govern the mind rather than obsess over uncontrollable events, individuals become more resilient, grounded, and capable of navigating adversity. Ultimately, the deeper meaning of this passage is that human beings possess an inner power that cannot be taken away by external circumstances unless they surrender it themselves. Marcus Aurelius suggests that resilience, peace, and strength are not found through controlling the world, but through developing mastery over one’s own mind. This idea has remained influential for centuries because it speaks to a universal human struggle: learning how to remain steady and purposeful in a world that is often uncertain and beyond our control.

Mental health is deeply important to me as a student because I understand firsthand how strongly it can affect every part of a person’s life, including academics, relationships, confidence, and overall well-being. As a student in a conservatory-style performing arts program at Point Park University, I have experienced the intense pressures that can come with balancing academics, rehearsals, performances, work, and future career uncertainty. The performing arts are incredibly rewarding, but they can also be emotionally and mentally demanding environments where perfectionism, comparison, and stress are very common. Throughout my life, I have also dealt with severe anxiety and OCD, which has made me especially aware of how important mental health support and understanding can be. There have been periods where anxiety made everyday situations feel overwhelming, whether academically, socially, or personally. Living with OCD and anxiety has taught me that mental health challenges are often invisible to others, even when someone appears successful or composed on the outside. Because of this, I have become much more empathetic toward what other people may be experiencing privately. Although dealing with anxiety has been difficult at times, it has also helped shape the way I support others in my community. One of the biggest ways I advocate for mental health is by encouraging openness, compassion, and honest conversations about stress and emotional well-being. In highly competitive environments like the performing arts, people sometimes feel pressure to hide struggles or appear constantly confident and productive. I try to create supportive spaces where friends, classmates, and teammates feel comfortable talking about stress, burnout, or self-doubt without fear of judgment. My leadership experiences have also influenced how I approach mental health advocacy. As the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board, I planned events that gave students opportunities to step away from academic pressure, connect socially, and build community outside the classroom. While these events may seem simple on the surface, I believe creating spaces for connection and enjoyment can have a meaningful impact on students’ mental well-being, especially for those who may feel isolated or overwhelmed. In addition, being part of Point Park’s ballroom team has shown me the importance of encouragement and emotional support within a team environment. Performing arts training can sometimes create intense pressure, so I try to be someone who uplifts and reassures others rather than contributing to negativity or unhealthy comparison. My experiences with anxiety and OCD have also taught me the importance of self-awareness and balance. I have learned that taking care of your mental health is not a weakness, but a necessary part of being able to succeed and support others effectively. I believe mental health advocacy begins with empathy, kindness, and creating environments where people feel safe being honest about their struggles. Ultimately, mental health is important to me because it affects every aspect of a student’s life and ability to thrive. Through leadership, community-building, and personal support for others, I hope to continue helping create environments where people feel understood, supported, and less alone in what they are experiencing.

I embody a life of service by using my time, leadership, and artistic abilities to support and connect with others in my community. I believe service is not limited to formal volunteer opportunities, but can also be expressed through creating welcoming environments, helping people feel included, and using your skills to positively impact those around you. Through leadership roles, volunteer work, and my involvement in the performing arts, I have learned that even small acts of support and kindness can make a meaningful difference in people’s lives. As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, much of my life revolves around collaboration and community. One of the most meaningful examples of service in my college experience was serving as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board. In this role, I organized off-campus events designed to help students connect with one another and feel more involved within the campus community. As someone who moved across the country from Los Angeles to attend college, I understood how isolating and overwhelming that transition can sometimes feel. Because of this, I wanted to help create experiences where students could build friendships, feel supported, and step away from academic stress for a while. I have also volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust, where I helped audience members during performances and contributed to creating a welcoming and accessible theatre environment. Through this experience, I learned how important hospitality, accessibility, and community engagement are within the arts. I enjoyed being able to help people have meaningful experiences through live performance and storytelling. In addition, my experiences on Point Park’s competitive ballroom team have strengthened my understanding of teamwork and service to others. Ballroom dancing requires trust, communication, and supporting your partner just as much as yourself. Working closely with another person toward shared goals taught me the importance of patience, encouragement, and collaboration. My education will allow me to continue serving others through both performance and arts education. In the future, I hope to work as a performer, choreographer, and educator who creates inclusive and supportive artistic spaces. I believe the performing arts have the power to inspire people, build empathy, and strengthen communities by bringing individuals together through shared experiences and storytelling. I also hope to mentor younger performers someday, especially students who may struggle with confidence or feel uncertain about where they belong. Many of my own teachers inspired me not only through technical instruction, but through their encouragement and belief in my potential. I would love the opportunity to provide that same support for future students and help them discover confidence and self-expression through the arts. Ultimately, I believe a life of service means using your strengths to positively impact others and contribute to your community. Through leadership, volunteer work, and the arts, I hope to continue serving others by creating spaces where people feel connected, supported, and inspired to be themselves.

To me, selflessness means supporting others without expecting recognition in return and being willing to give your time, energy, and compassion to help improve someone else’s experience. I believe selflessness is often demonstrated through small but meaningful actions that help people feel supported, included, and valued. Throughout my life, I have tried to embody this mindset through leadership, teamwork, and community involvement, especially within the arts and my college community. One example of this was my role as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for the Campus Activities Board at Point Park University. In this position, I organized off-campus events designed to help students connect with one another and feel more involved on campus. As someone who moved across the country from Los Angeles for college, I understood how isolating and overwhelming college life can sometimes feel, especially for students adjusting to a completely new environment. Because of that, I wanted to help create experiences where students could step away from stress, build friendships, and feel a stronger sense of belonging. Although organizing events required a great deal of planning and responsibility behind the scenes, seeing students enjoy themselves and form connections made the effort worthwhile. Another example of selflessness comes from my experiences on Point Park’s ballroom team. Ballroom dance relies heavily on trust, teamwork, and communication. My partner and I spend many hours rehearsing together, and I have learned that success is not about focusing only on yourself, but about supporting your partner and helping each other improve. There have been times when one of us felt discouraged or frustrated during training, and those moments taught me the importance of patience, encouragement, and putting someone else’s needs before your own frustration or exhaustion. Working together toward a shared goal strengthened my understanding of empathy and collaboration. I have also volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust, where I assisted audience members during performances and helped create a welcoming environment within the theatre community. Sometimes this involved helping patrons navigate accessibility needs, answering questions, or simply making people feel comfortable and respected during their experience. These moments reminded me that small acts of kindness and attentiveness can have a significant impact on someone’s day. In addition, selflessness has been an important part of my personal relationships. Throughout college, I have tried to support friends and classmates who were struggling with stress, homesickness, or self-doubt by listening to them, encouraging them, and being emotionally present. In a demanding conservatory environment, emotional support and kindness can make a tremendous difference. Ultimately, I believe selflessness is about consistently choosing empathy, compassion, and community over self-interest. My experiences in leadership, teamwork, volunteer work, and the arts have taught me that helping others does not always require grand gestures. Sometimes the most meaningful impact comes from simply showing up for people, listening to them, and helping them feel less alone.

I plan to make a positive impact on the world by using the performing arts to create connection, representation, and community. As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, I have experienced firsthand how powerful art can be in helping people feel seen, understood, and inspired. Dance and theatre have the ability to bring people together across different backgrounds and perspectives, and I hope to use my future career not only to entertain audiences, but also to positively influence the communities around me. Growing up in Los Angeles and later moving across the country for college taught me the importance of community and human connection. Entering a conservatory-style arts environment pushed me outside of my comfort zone and challenged me both personally and artistically. Through these experiences, I realized how meaningful supportive environments can be, especially for young people trying to discover who they are and where they belong. Because of this, one of my biggest goals is to help create inclusive and encouraging spaces where others feel accepted and valued. I hope to make an impact through both performance and education. As a performer, I want to tell meaningful stories that emotionally connect with audiences and encourage empathy and understanding. Some of the most powerful performances are the ones that make people feel less alone or allow them to see the world from a different perspective. I want to contribute to art that inspires people, sparks conversation, and reminds audiences of our shared humanity. I also hope to work as a teacher and choreographer in the future. Many of my own dance teachers and mentors shaped my confidence and personal growth just as much as my technical abilities. They taught me discipline, resilience, and the importance of believing in myself even during difficult moments. I would love the opportunity to give that same encouragement to younger dancers and performers, especially students who may not always feel confident or represented within artistic spaces. I believe arts education can have a lasting impact by helping students build creativity, self-expression, teamwork, and confidence. Outside of performance, I have already worked to positively contribute to my community through leadership and involvement at Point Park. As the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for the Campus Activities Board, I planned events that helped students connect and build community outside the classroom. I have also volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust, where I gained a deeper appreciation for arts accessibility and the importance of creating welcoming spaces for audiences of all backgrounds. Ultimately, I believe making a positive impact does not always require changing the entire world at once. Sometimes it means helping individuals feel inspired, supported, or connected through shared experiences. Whether through performing, teaching, choreographing, or community involvement, I hope to use my career in the arts to bring people together, encourage empathy, and create spaces where others feel empowered to express themselves authentically.

As the child of a pastor, faith has always been an important part of my life and the way I view the world. While my relationship with faith has grown and changed over time, it has consistently provided me with guidance, resilience, and a sense of purpose during both joyful and difficult moments. One experience that especially shaped my understanding of faith and sacrifice was when my family temporarily moved from Los Angeles to the Berkeley area so my father could complete the final year of his master’s program on campus. My sister and I shared a small room in student housing for the first time, and the transition was challenging, especially because I was in middle school and leaving behind the comfort of familiarity. At the time, I struggled with the adjustment and did not fully understand why such a major change was necessary. Looking back now, however, I realize how much that experience shaped me. Watching my parents make sacrifices in support of education, faith, and long-term goals taught me the importance of perseverance and commitment. It also taught me that growth often comes from stepping outside of your comfort zone. Although the move was difficult, it also became one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. Living in the Bay Area exposed me to a much more diverse environment than the suburb where I grew up. I met people from different backgrounds, cultures, and perspectives, which broadened my understanding of the world and strengthened my appreciation for community and inclusion. During that year, I also began taking dance classes at Berkeley Ballet Theater, which is where I truly fell in love with ballet. Those classes deepened my passion for the performing arts and helped shape the path that eventually led me to pursue dance professionally. My faith helped me through that transition by reminding me that uncertainty and change can lead to unexpected growth and opportunity. Even when situations felt uncomfortable or overwhelming, faith encouraged me to trust that there was purpose in the experience. That mindset has continued to help me throughout college as a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University. Pursuing a career in the arts can feel uncertain at times because it requires vulnerability, perseverance, and belief in yourself even when the future is unclear. Faith has helped ground me during stressful moments and reminded me to continue working hard while trusting the process. In my future career, I believe faith will continue to guide me by helping me approach others with empathy, humility, and compassion. The performing arts are ultimately about connection and storytelling, and I hope to use my work to positively impact others and create spaces where people feel inspired and understood. My faith has taught me the importance of community, perseverance, and service to others, and I hope those values continue to shape both my career and the kind of person I become.

As someone who is bisexual, one of the most meaningful ways I have been affected by members of the LGBTQIA+ community has been through simply seeing people live openly and authentically without apologizing for who they are. Growing up, I often felt uncertain about where I fit in and struggled with the fear of being misunderstood or judged. Seeing LGBTQIA+ individuals who were confident in themselves, supportive of others, and unafraid to express their identities helped me realize that there was nothing wrong with being myself. That visibility and sense of acceptance had a powerful impact on me, especially as I grew older and became more comfortable with my own identity. One of the environments that shaped me most was the performing arts community. As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, I have been surrounded by many LGBTQIA+ artists, peers, mentors, and friends who helped create spaces where individuality and self-expression are celebrated. In these spaces, I saw firsthand how important community and representation can be. Having supportive people around me allowed me to grow more confident, not only as an artist, but also as a person. What affected me most was not necessarily one dramatic moment, but rather the everyday kindness, openness, and support I experienced from members of the LGBTQIA+ community. Whether it was conversations with friends, encouragement from peers, or simply seeing people unapologetically be themselves, those experiences reminded me how important it is for people to feel accepted and valued. They also showed me how powerful community can be in helping someone feel less alone. These experiences have shaped my plans for future activism by inspiring me to create supportive and inclusive environments for others, especially within the arts. I believe activism does not always have to look like large public demonstrations or political leadership. Sometimes activism can be creating spaces where people feel safe, represented, and encouraged to express themselves honestly. Through performance, education, and leadership, I hope to contribute to environments where LGBTQIA+ individuals feel welcomed and respected. In the future, I hope to work as a performer, choreographer, and educator, and I want to use those roles to uplift others and encourage acceptance within artistic spaces. I want younger LGBTQIA+ students and performers to feel the same sense of belonging and support that helped me grow more confident in myself. Representation matters because seeing others live authentically can help people realize they deserve to do the same. Ultimately, the LGBTQIA+ community has taught me the importance of authenticity, empathy, and acceptance. Those lessons have shaped not only who I am personally, but also the kind of impact I hope to make in the future through both my career and my involvement in my community.

One meaningful way I have given back to my community has been through my leadership involvement at Point Park University and my volunteer work within Pittsburgh’s arts community. While many people think of volunteering only as large service projects, I believe community service can also involve creating spaces where people feel connected, supported, and included. Through both event planning and arts involvement, I have worked to positively impact the people around me and strengthen the communities I am part of. Last year, I served as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board. In this role, I organized off-campus events and activities designed to help students connect with one another outside the classroom. The attached photo is from a Pittsburgh Penguins game event I organized through the Campus Activities Board. Events like this helped students step away from academic stress, connect with one another, and feel more involved within the campus community. Coordinating these events involved communicating with venues, planning logistics, working with the marketing team to promote the events, and ensuring students had an enjoyable and welcoming experience. As a student who moved across the country from Los Angeles to attend college, I understand how isolating college can sometimes feel, especially for students adjusting to a new environment. Because of that, I always tried to approach leadership with the goal of making people feel included and valued. I learned that creating positive shared experiences can have a meaningful impact on students’ mental well-being and sense of belonging. In addition to campus leadership, I have volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust. Through this experience, I assisted audience members during performances and helped create a welcoming environment within Pittsburgh’s theatre community. This role strengthened my understanding of accessibility, professionalism, and hospitality in the arts. I enjoyed being part of an environment where people from many different backgrounds could come together to experience live performance and storytelling. These experiences taught me the importance of leadership through service. To me, leadership is not simply about being in charge or receiving recognition. True leadership involves supporting others, listening to people’s needs, and contributing positively to your community. Service-oriented leadership requires empathy, communication, and the willingness to put the needs of others before your own. Through both event planning and volunteer work, I have learned that even small actions can help strengthen a community. Whether helping students feel more connected on campus or creating welcoming experiences in the arts, I believe leadership through service has the power to bring people together and create lasting positive impact. In the future, I hope to continue using both the arts and community involvement as ways to inspire connection, inclusion, and support for others.

Growing up in Los Angeles, I was surrounded by creativity and storytelling from an early age. The performing arts quickly became the place where I felt most confident, expressive, and connected to others. Through dance and theatre, I discovered not only a passion for performance, but also a sense of purpose and community. That passion eventually led me across the country to Point Park University, where I am currently a rising senior majoring in Dance with a minor in Musical Theatre. My college journey has challenged me in ways I never expected. Conservatory-style arts training is physically demanding, emotionally intense, and extremely time-consuming. Between technique classes, rehearsals, performances, competitions, and academics, there have been many moments when I felt exhausted or questioned whether I was capable of balancing everything. However, those challenges have helped me grow tremendously as both an artist and a person. One of my greatest strengths is perseverance. Even during stressful periods, I have continued to push myself academically and artistically, earning a place on the Dean’s List every semester while remaining deeply involved in campus life and the arts community. At the same time, one of my weaknesses has been learning not to place unrealistic pressure on myself. In the performing arts, it is easy to compare yourself to others or feel like you constantly need to prove your worth. Over time, I have learned that growth is not about perfection, but about consistency, resilience, and continuing to show up even when things feel uncertain. College has helped me become more confident in myself and more comfortable embracing both my strengths and imperfections. Outside the classroom, I have worked to contribute positively to my community through leadership and involvement. Last year, I served as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board, where I planned events designed to help students feel connected and engaged outside of academics. This year, I became involved with Point Park’s competitive ballroom team, where my dance partner and I placed at every competition we attended. I have also volunteered as an usher with the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust, which deepened my appreciation for arts accessibility and community engagement. These experiences reinforced my belief that the arts have the power to bring people together and create meaningful human connection. My hopes for the future extend beyond simply performing professionally. I hope to build a career as a performer, choreographer, and educator who helps create inclusive and supportive artistic spaces. I want to inspire others the way my own teachers and mentors inspired me. I also hope to help make the arts feel more accessible to young people who may not otherwise have opportunities to explore creative expression. I believe the performing arts can strengthen communities by encouraging empathy, storytelling, and connection across different backgrounds and experiences. Financing my education, however, continues to be a challenge for my family. I come from a middle-class family in Los Angeles, where the cost of living is extremely high, and tuition costs continue to rise each year. My family has worked incredibly hard to support my education, and I have worked equally hard to make the most of every opportunity I have been given. Receiving this scholarship would help relieve some of the financial pressure surrounding my final year of college and allow me to continue focusing on my education, artistic growth, and future goals. More importantly, this scholarship would represent an investment not only in my education, but also in the kind of impact I hope to make in the world. I want to use my career to create art that connects people, build communities through performance and education, and help others feel seen, valued, and inspired. My experiences so far have taught me that success is not only measured by personal achievement, but also by the positive influence you have on the people and communities around you.

As a Dance major and Musical Theatre minor at Point Park University, collaboration is one of the most meaningful and essential parts of my field. While audiences often focus on the performers they see on stage, every successful production or performance is the result of countless people working together toward a shared vision. In dance and theatre, collaboration means trust, communication, creativity, and the willingness to support others while also contributing your own ideas and artistry. It is what transforms individual talent into something larger and more impactful than any one person could create alone. One of the reasons I love the performing arts is because of the relationships that develop throughout the creative process. Long rehearsals, performances, and productions require people to rely on one another in meaningful ways. Whether working with choreographers, directors, stage managers, lighting designers, musicians, or fellow performers, collaboration teaches you how to listen, adapt, and communicate effectively. It also teaches empathy, because every person involved in a production contributes different strengths, perspectives, and experiences that help shape the final result. One collaborative experience that has greatly inspired me has been competing on Point Park’s ballroom team. Ballroom dance requires an especially high level of teamwork because success depends on two people moving and communicating as one. My dance partner and I spend many hours rehearsing together each week, working not only on technique, but also on trust, timing, and connection. Through this experience, I have learned how important patience and communication are in achieving a shared goal. Competing together and placing at competitions has shown me that strong collaboration is built through consistency, mutual respect, and supporting one another through both successes and challenges. Another meaningful collaborative experience was serving as the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board. While this role was not performance-based, it still required significant teamwork and collaboration. Planning events involved working closely with other student leaders, vendors, and campus staff to create experiences that would help students feel connected and engaged. This experience taught me that collaboration is not just about dividing responsibilities, but about creating an environment where everyone feels valued and heard. I have also been inspired through my experiences in productions and rehearsals within Point Park’s conservatory environment. Performing alongside other dancers and actors has shown me how collaboration can elevate storytelling and emotional impact. Some of the most rewarding moments in theatre happen when an entire cast and creative team become fully connected to the work and to each other. Those experiences remind me that the performing arts are ultimately about community. In my future career, I hope to continue collaborating with artists from many different backgrounds and disciplines. I believe collaboration leads to stronger creativity, deeper storytelling, and more inclusive artistic spaces. Whether I am performing, choreographing, or teaching, I want to contribute to environments where people feel supported, respected, and inspired to create together. To me, collaboration is not only a professional skill, but one of the most meaningful parts of being an artist.

One of the most moving performances I have seen from Taylor Swift is her performance of “Illicit Affairs” during The Eras Tour. While Taylor is known for massive stadium productions, elaborate visuals, and energetic performances, this particular moment stood out to me because of how emotionally raw and theatrical it felt. The performance stripped away some of the spectacle and focused almost entirely on storytelling, emotion, and vocal delivery. What makes the performance so powerful is the way Taylor gradually builds emotional intensity throughout the song. The quiet frustration and heartbreak in the beginning eventually explode into the bridge, where she delivers the lyrics with visible anger and vulnerability. Even in a stadium filled with thousands of people, the performance somehow feels intimate and deeply personal. As someone studying dance and musical theatre at Point Park University, I really admire performers who can fully commit emotionally to storytelling, and Taylor does that exceptionally well in this performance. I also find this performance moving because it reflects one of the reasons Taylor Swift has remained so successful throughout her career: her ability to make audiences feel understood. Her music often captures emotions that are difficult to explain, and in live performance she elevates those emotions even further through vocal expression, staging, and connection with the audience. “Illicit Affairs” is not one of her biggest radio hits, yet during The Eras Tour it became one of the most talked-about performances because of how emotionally honest and intense it felt. As a performer myself, I connect strongly to artists who prioritize storytelling and emotional truth. Watching Taylor Swift perform reminds me that audiences are often most impacted not by perfection, but by authenticity and vulnerability. That performance of “Illicit Affairs” demonstrates how powerful live theatre and music can be when an artist fully commits to the emotional world of the song. It transformed a stadium concert into something that felt deeply human and personal, which is what makes it so memorable to me.

The music of Olivia Rodrigo resonates with me because of how honestly she captures emotions that many people struggle to put into words. Her songs explore insecurity, ambition, heartbreak, self-discovery, and growing up, all themes that feel especially relevant as a college student pursuing a career in the performing arts. What makes her music stand out to me is that even when the lyrics are deeply personal, they still feel universal. Several songs in her discography connect strongly to my own experiences and the challenges of navigating both adulthood and an artistic career path. One lyric that particularly resonates with me comes from hope ur ok: “Address the letters, to the holes in my butterfly wings.” That lyric captures the feeling of carrying invisible struggles while still trying to grow and move forward. As a dance major and musical theatre minor at Point Park University, there are many moments when I feel pressure to appear confident and successful even while dealing with exhaustion, financial stress, uncertainty about the future, or self-doubt. Pursuing the arts can be incredibly rewarding, but it also requires vulnerability and resilience. This lyric reminds me that people often carry hidden challenges while still trying to become the best versions of themselves. Another lyric that connects to my experience comes from the grudge: “I try to be tough, I try to be mean, but even after all this, you’re still everything to me.” While the song is about heartbreak, I connect more to the idea of struggling to let go of emotions and experiences that shape who you are. Moving across the country from Los Angeles to Pittsburgh for college forced me to grow up quickly and leave behind the comfort of familiarity. There are moments when I miss home, my family, and the version of myself I was before college, even though I know I have grown tremendously because of these experiences. I also connect strongly to the themes of ambition in ballad of a homeschooled girl and making the bed. Olivia Rodrigo often writes about feeling overwhelmed by expectations, overthinking social situations, and questioning whether success actually solves personal insecurities. Those themes resonate with me because conservatory-style arts training is extremely demanding. There is constant pressure to improve, compare yourself to others, and figure out your future career path in a very competitive industry. Her music reminds me that uncertainty and insecurity are normal parts of growing up and pursuing big dreams. What I admire most about Olivia Rodrigo’s songwriting is her emotional honesty. She does not try to present herself as perfect or fearless, and that authenticity is what makes her music meaningful to so many people. Her lyrics reflect both the triumphs and challenges of becoming comfortable with yourself while navigating relationships, ambition, and change. As someone pursuing a future in the performing arts, I find comfort in music that embraces vulnerability and reminds listeners that growth is rarely simple or linear.

One brand-new challenge I would introduce to Love Island is called “The Compatibility Switch-Up.” The goal of the challenge is to test how well Islanders truly know their partners while also creating opportunities for drama, humor, and unexpected connections. At the start of the challenge, every Islander would anonymously answer a series of questions about themselves. The questions would range from serious topics to funny and chaotic ones. Examples could include: “What is your biggest relationship red flag?” “What is your dream date?” “Who in the villa would you couple up with if your current partner disappeared?” “What habit annoys you most?” “What is one thing you are afraid to tell your partner?” Once everyone submits their answers, the Islanders are split into pairs—but not with their current partners. Instead, each person is paired with someone they are not coupled up with. Their task is to correctly match anonymous answers to the person who wrote them. Every correct answer earns points for the pair, but every incorrect answer comes with a consequence chosen by the producers. The consequences are where the real entertainment begins. Wrong answers could lead to: having to reveal a secret about another Islander, being forced to go on a mini-date with someone new, switching beds for the night, or hearing previously unrevealed answers publicly announced to the villa. The winning pair would earn a private villa date and the power to send one couple on a “compatibility test” date outside the villa. Meanwhile, the losing pair would have to participate in a brutally honest public Q&A hosted by the other Islanders. What makes this challenge different is that it combines emotional honesty, strategy, and social tension all at once. It would expose which couples genuinely know each other, which people are secretly interested in someone else, and which Islanders are simply telling their partners what they want to hear. It would also create natural opportunities for flirting, jealousy, and shifting dynamics without feeling overly scripted. As a viewer, I think the most entertaining part of Love Island is watching relationships tested in unexpected ways, and this challenge would reveal both genuine compatibility and hidden cracks in relationships almost immediately.

I am a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because of both her artistry and the way she has built her career with persistence, versatility, and authenticity. As someone studying dance and musical theatre at Point Park University, I especially admire performers who are able to succeed across multiple areas of the entertainment industry, and Sabrina has done exactly that. She has grown from a young Disney Channel actor into a respected singer, songwriter, performer, and entertainer while continuously evolving as an artist. What stands out to me most about Sabrina Carpenter is her work ethic and willingness to take creative risks. Throughout her career, she has consistently worked to develop her own artistic identity rather than staying confined to one image or style. Her music combines strong storytelling, humor, vulnerability, and confidence in a way that feels genuine and relatable. Albums like Emails I Can't Send showcase emotional honesty while still being fun and entertaining, which is something I really appreciate as both an audience member and an artist myself. I also admire the level of performance quality she brings to her live shows. As a dancer and performer, I notice the amount of detail, stage presence, and professionalism that goes into creating a strong performance. Sabrina’s ability to connect with audiences while balancing vocals, movement, personality, and storytelling is incredibly inspiring to me because those are skills I hope to continue developing in my own career. Her career has impacted me by reminding me that success often comes from persistence and growth over time. Sabrina Carpenter’s rise did not happen overnight. She spent years steadily building her career, improving her craft, and proving herself in multiple areas of entertainment. As someone pursuing a career in the performing arts, that is encouraging to see because it reinforces the idea that growth, consistency, and resilience matter just as much as talent. Most importantly, I admire how she embraces individuality and confidence while still appearing grounded and relatable. Watching artists like Sabrina Carpenter succeed inspires me to continue pursuing my own goals in performance and to trust that hard work and authenticity can eventually lead to meaningful opportunities.

Although my primary field of study is dance and musical theatre at Point Park University, entrepreneurship has become an important part of how I view my future career in the arts. Pursuing a career as a performer, choreographer, and educator requires not only creativity and talent, but also adaptability, leadership, and the ability to create opportunities for yourself. Through my experiences in college, I have realized that entrepreneurship is deeply connected to the performing arts because artists often have to build their own careers, market themselves, develop professional relationships, and find innovative ways to connect with communities. One of the biggest motivations behind my interest in entrepreneurship is the desire to create meaningful artistic opportunities for both myself and others. Growing up in Los Angeles, I saw firsthand how competitive the entertainment industry can be. At the same time, I saw how powerful the arts are in bringing people together and creating community. These experiences inspired me to think beyond simply performing and instead consider how I could someday contribute to the arts through teaching, choreography, creative projects, and community engagement. I want to build a career that combines artistry with leadership and allows me to positively impact others. My experiences in college have strengthened this mindset. As the Outings & Adventures Coordinator for Point Park’s Campus Activities Board, I learned how much organization, communication, and planning are required to successfully execute events and create positive experiences for others. Coordinating off-campus events involved working with vendors, promoting events, managing logistics, and adapting quickly when challenges arose. These responsibilities taught me many entrepreneurial skills, including leadership, teamwork, problem-solving, and professionalism. In addition, I have prioritized learning how to market and advocate for myself as an artist. I have pursued teaching opportunities, created promotional materials for dance instruction, networked within Pittsburgh’s arts community, and remained involved in performance and competition opportunities such as Point Park’s ballroom team. Through these experiences, I have learned that entrepreneurship often begins with initiative and the willingness to put yourself forward even when opportunities are uncertain. Financial challenges have also shaped my perspective on entrepreneurship. Pursuing a degree in the performing arts while balancing rising tuition costs has taught me the importance of persistence, adaptability, and long-term planning. It has motivated me to think creatively about building a sustainable career that combines multiple areas of the arts, including performance, choreography, and education. Ultimately, entrepreneurship appeals to me because it combines creativity with leadership and innovation. My college experiences have taught me that success in the arts often comes from the ability to create opportunities rather than wait for them. I hope to continue building the skills necessary to develop a meaningful and sustainable career while also helping create artistic opportunities and supportive communities for others in the future.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. What really sparked my interest in theatre was when I saw the national tour of Mary Poppins. I fell in love with the magic of theatre. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. Last year, I volunteered to play Peter Pan with a group called Fairytales in the Park, in which we performed free outdoor children's shows. It brings me joy to share the magic of theatre with others. In addition to performing in shows, when I was seven, I started taking ballet classes. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others. Hopefully I can become a source of inspiration and empowerment for other boys who want to dance, just as Dream Billy was for me. During the peak of the pandemic, there were many days I wanted to quit ballet. Dancing from home was demotivating, as I lacked in-person connections with other dancers and I did not have enough space to travel across the floor. Fortunately, a group called The Male Dance Connection formed online, and it outlasted covid. Every week, even in 2023, Bryce Lee, a company dancer from the Colorado Ballet, teaches men’s ballet classes on Zoom. Bryce’s online classes motivated me to continue dancing. I have cherished the opportunity to connect with other boys who share my passion for dance. Through these online classes, I have formed lifelong friendships, despite us all living in different states. Additionally, Bryce has become a positive influence in my dance career. Thanks to Bryce’s classes, I did not quit ballet, which I am forever grateful for because the performing arts is a necessity. If I’m ever feeling down or have a bad day, going to dance class lifts my spirits and makes me happy.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was a kid, I’d perform shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula, all at once. Other times, I’d cast my sister, my friends, or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows, which is what got me into dance. I was immediately hooked. Being a boy in the dance world has felt isolating at times, although musicals with male dancer representation such as Newsies and Billy Elliot inspire me to keep dancing. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. For the rest of my life, I want to be a performer and make art. There is no better feeling in the world than bringing joy to others through my passion and transporting audience members to another world. I currently major in dance with a minor in musical theatre at Point Park University, one of the top dance and theatre programs in the country. I chose Point Park University because students take classes in ballet, jazz, and modern dance, making them well-rounded and versatile dancers. They also have a robust theater program, which I want to pursue post graduation. Upon graduation from Point Park, I envision myself having a successful career in the performing arts through dancing in Broadway shows, or maybe even on a cruise ship so I can do what I love and see the world. I also have a lifelong dream of becoming a Disney performer. I love doing what I enjoy every day alongside other passionate artists and I couldn’t imagine myself studying anything else with my life. I am fully committed to growing as an artist at Point Park, although my financial situation is becoming a challenge. Their conservatory offered me scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family needs to pay the rest of it, in addition to the costs of travel. I genuinely want to continue my dance and academic journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship. Any additional funds would make a significant difference in my ability to continue pursuing my dance journey at Point Park.

Overall, I want the performing arts, dance specifically, to be accessible to everyone. In Misty Copeland’s book, Life in Motion, she states, “Ballet is still a career that requires either a lot of luck (which I had) or a lot of money (which I didn’t have). In addition to impeccable training and emotional support. And as you climb, it can be lonely and terrifying to look around and see no one else who resembles you.” Unfortunately, Copeland’s words are true for many aspiring dancers, including me. Growing up, I had a lot of luck on my side, but not money. My family had to make sacrifices for me to get to where I am now, and they’re still making sacrifices for me to stay at Point Park. But I stay at Point Park because like Copeland, I know what it’s like to see no one else in the room who resembles me. Growing up, I was almost always the only boy in ballet. At Point Park, I have male role models and classmates. I want to pursue a career in dance to be a role model and make the arts accessible to all. Dance companies such as Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre create accessibility by offering free shows like their outdoor summer series. It warmed my heart seeing children there, inspired by the dancers. Similarly, when I was given the opportunity to perform with Ballet Academy of Pittsburgh in their Nutcracker, I met young boys who love ballet, but don’t enjoy taking class because they are the only boys in the studio. When I was their age, I also felt demotivated being the only boy in ballet class. I didn’t want to be a pixie; I wanted to be Peter Pan. I have thought about offering a boys ballet class, so I can teach them dance from a non-gendered perspective. Someday, I want to see dance offered in all public schools. Art makes life worth living. When schools don’t include arts education, students suffer. Upon completion of my degree, I want to advocate for nationally elevating arts to the level they are in Europe, where there are government funded ballet companies and academies. Arts should also be funded locally. Pre-professional ballet schools such as Miami City Ballet offer free transportation in partnership with the public schools system. I want to work somewhere that offers these partnerships and help expand such programs. I feel that my education at Point Park is preparing me to achieve these goals. However, along with the benefits comes a cost. Going to college out of state is more expensive than going to college in-state. I have to pay $30,000 for college this year, in addition to travel costs and other expenses. Their conservatory offered scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family needs to pay the balance and lately, it has been a burden. My dad works several part time jobs to help cover the costs. Paying for my tuition is a stretch for my family. I genuinely want to continue my academic journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in funding my tuition through this scholarship.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. What really sparked my interest in theatre was when I saw the national tour of Mary Poppins. I fell in love with the magic of theatre. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. In high school, I volunteered to play Peter Pan with a group called Fairytales in the Park, in which we performed free outdoor children's shows. It brings me joy to share the magic of theatre with others. In addition to performing in shows, when I was seven, I started taking ballet classes. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others. Hopefully I can become a source of inspiration and empowerment for other boys who want to dance, just as Dream Billy was for me. During the peak of the pandemic, there were many days I wanted to quit ballet. Dancing from home was demotivating, as I lacked in-person connections with other dancers and I did not have enough space to travel across the floor. Fortunately, a group called The Male Dance Connection formed online, and it outlasted covid. Every week, Bryce Lee, a company dancer from the Colorado Ballet, teaches men’s ballet classes on Zoom. Bryce’s online classes motivated me to continue dancing. I have cherished the opportunity to connect with other boys who share my passion for dance. Through these online classes, I have formed lifelong friendships, despite us all living in different states. Additionally, Bryce has become a positive influence in my dance career. Thanks to Bryce’s classes, I did not quit ballet, which I am forever grateful for because the performing arts is a necessity. If I’m ever feeling down or have a bad day, going to dance class lifts my spirits and makes me happy. Art heals, and I couldn't imagine my life without it.

I value inclusion. I understand what it's like to be the "other" in a room, one who doesn’t quite fit the mold and feels excluded. In various aspects of my life, I've been that "other." I'm a male ballet dancer; ballet is traditionally dominated by females. I attended high school in a conservative community, and I was one of the few openly gay students. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I'm committed to making everyone feel included. During my first year of high school, our Gay Straight Alliance meetings occurred online due to covid. Some members couldn't fully participate due to unsafe home environments, so I encouraged members to engage through chat. I read their comments aloud and responded to each of them individually. Our GSA had a tradition of sharing pie together every November. That year, I delivered a slice of pie to each member's home, even those who couldn't regularly attend meetings, which helped maintain our sense of togetherness. When we returned in-person, many online members joined. As a leader, I aimed to build community. Early in the year, we organized a "speed friending" activity to create a support network, and we continued with community circles. I pushed myself to open up, since other people may share my struggles and feel less alone. In GSA, we celebrate everyone regardless of identity. We uplift each other, fostering an inclusive environment. I am also a leader in dance. I recently finished my first year at Point Park University, pursuing a B.F.A. in Dance. Growing up, I was almost always the only boy in ballet. At Point Park, I have male role models and classmates. I want to pursue a career in dance to make art accessible. Dance companies such as Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre create accessibility by offering free shows. It warmed my heart to see children inspired by the dancers. Similarly, when I performed in Ballet Academy of Pittsburgh’s Nutcracker, I met young boys who love ballet, but don’t enjoy taking class because they are the only boys. At their age, I also felt demotivated being the only boy. I want to teach a boys ballet class, so I can teach them dance from a non-gendered perspective. In my first year living in Pittsburgh, I have built community amongst male dancers, even in small ballet schools. After performing in Nutcracker, in the spring, I helped recruit enough men for Balanchine’s Serenade. I reached out to a dancer I’d connected with on Instagram and dancers from Point Park. I was proud to help make the piece happen, so younger boys in their academy could have multiple older guys as role models. I am a leader in many areas in my life because I am a role model. Whether I am stage managing a show, leading a club meeting, or teaching choreography to show choir, I aim to be kind, considerate, and value every voice in the room because leading isn’t about being the loudest voice, but about being the best listener.

I value inclusion. To me, being inclusive means not excluding anyone. I understand what it's like to be the "other" in a room. The "others" are those who don't quite fit the mold, those who often feel excluded. In various aspects of my life, I've been that "other." In the world of ballet, traditionally dominated by females, I'm a male dancer. I attended high school in a conservative community. I was one of the few openly gay students. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I'm committed to making everyone feel included in every space I can. In high school, I served as a leader for the Gay Straight Alliance. During my first year as a GSA leader, meetings occurred online due to covid. Some members couldn't join due to unsafe home environments, so I wanted to ensure their inclusion. I encouraged members, including those who could not participate in Zoom video sessions, to engage through chat. Our GSA had a tradition of sharing pie together every November. I delivered a slice of pie to each member, even those who couldn't regularly attend Zoom meetings, which helped maintain a sense of togetherness. When we returned in-person, many online members joined. As a leader, I aimed to build a strong sense of community. Early in the school year, I organized a "speed friending" activity to create a support network of friends. We also held community circles to discuss various topics, including mental health. Even though it is sometimes hard for me to share, I try to open up as much as possible, since my struggles might look like other people’s struggles, and hearing about it might help someone feel less alone. In GSA, we celebrate everyone. We uplift each other, fostering a truly inclusive environment. My commitment to inclusion also extended to drama class. During my senior year, I had the opportunity to direct. During auditions, I allowed everyone to audition for the roles they desired. I’ve auditioned for community theatre shows before, and I understand the disappointment of not being cast in a show, so I double-cast some roles to ensure everyone who wanted to act had the opportunity, regardless of stage fright or experience. Throughout the performances, I witnessed remarkable growth within the actors. They shone on stage in ways they hadn't before. I love acting because it allows people to explore different facets of themselves, express without judgment, and receive the applause they deserve. Currently, I'm a student at Point Park University, pursuing a B.F.A. in Dance. When I'm not in class, I enjoy ushering. Going to the theater is a magical experience, and ushers play an important role in making it magical. It is fulfilling to see the audience's reactions to a performance, knowing that I helped them have a wonderful experience. While ushering, I always actively listen and pay attention to patron’s concerns. For example, during a show, one of the people I was seating had a walker with him. Since he couldn’t leave his walker in the aisle, as it would block the path, I brought it to the lobby are. As soon as crowds had cleared after the show, I brought his walker back to his seat. I want to keep ushering because I believe in inclusion in theatre and that the performing arts has no limits. Art is life. Everyone should be able to experience the arts. Participation in the arts can enrich one’s life in profound ways. As an usher, I want to keep providing magical experiences to audience members, so they feel inclined to return for future shows.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with it. At eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. One of my favorite roles I’ve portrayed is Ed in a comedy called Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last. Whenever I act, I always think about the character’s objectives. Ed is a middle schooler who wants to get his friend, Petra, together with somebody she has a crush on, Anabel. Ed puts on Romeo and Juliet and casts Petra and Anabel as the leads. Ed wants to see his best friend happy, which is why he is dedicated to the play. I also thought about Ed’s personality traits. He's loyal, protective, and caring. He is a bubbly, loud, and flamboyant extrovert. Ed is a social butterfly who has a lot of connections with his peers. I, on the other hand, am introverted. I’m often the quiet kid in class. Unsurprisingly, it took me time to figure out how to best portray Ed. I decided to try being Ed by talking to more people, which made interacting with others more comfortable for me, both on stage as Ed, and off stage in my own social life. Portraying Ed pushed me out of my comfort zone. When the play ended, I vowed to keep a little bit of Ed in my real life. Although it does not come naturally to me, occasionally playing the role of “social butterfly” has made me happier. Ultimately, that’s what I love about theatre. It allows me to try on other people’s lives for a while, and in the process, it helps me craft the person I am. Theatre also allows me to see myself represented on stage. Musicals such as The Prom and Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, which have LGBTQ representation, inspire me to my authentic self and reminds me that we all deserve to be loved and accepted. For example, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has inspired and empowered me. In Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. Before seeing this ballet, I never quite fully connected with the story. However, I can relate to the Prince feeling like he's not accepted by others in his life. In 2021, I spent weeks preparing this variation from Swan Lake, which I performed for scholarship contests, and I found Matthew Bourne’s version to be the inspiration in my mind as I prepared to perform. Eventually, I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I also want to make dance accessible. Someday, I want to see dance classes offered in all public schools. The arts make life worth living. When schools don’t include arts education, students suffer. Upon completion of my dance degree, I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others and make the arts accessible to all.

I want the performing arts, dance specifically, to be accessible to everyone. In Misty Copeland’s book, Life in Motion, she states, “Ballet is still a career that requires either a lot of luck (which I had) or a lot of money (which I didn’t have). In addition to impeccable training and emotional support. And as you climb, it can be lonely and terrifying to look around and see no one else who resembles you.” Unfortunately, Copeland’s words are true for many aspiring dancers, including me. Growing up, I had a lot of luck on my side, but not money. My family had to make many sacrifices for me to get to where I am now, and they’re still making sacrifices for me to stay at Point Park University. But I stay at Point Park because like Copeland, I know what it’s like to see no one else in the room who resembles me. Growing up, I was almost always the only boy in the ballet studio. At Point Park, I have male role models and male classmates. I want to continue my ballet training and pursue a career in dance to be a role model and work to make the arts accessible to all. Dance companies such as Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre make an effort to create accessibility in the arts by offering free shows to the public like their outdoor summer series, which my friends and I went to see. It warmed my heart to see young children there, inspired by the dancers on stage. Similarly, when I was given the opportunity to perform with Ballet Academy of Pittsburgh in their Nutcracker, I met several young boys who love ballet, but don’t enjoy taking class because they are the only boys in the studio. When I was their age, I also fet demotivated being the only boy in ballet class. I didn’t want to be a pixie; I wanted to be Peter Pan. I have thought about offering a boys ballet class, so I can teach them dance from a non-gendered perspective. Someday, I would like to see dance classes offered in all public schools. While history and science are important to study, the arts make life worth living. When schools don’t include arts education, students suffer. Upon completion of my dance degree, I hope to have a career that allows me to use my voice in the arts to advocate for nationally elevating arts to the level they are in Europe, where there are government funded ballet companies and academies. Arts should also be funded locally. Pre-professional ballet schools such as Miami City Ballet offer free transportation in partnership with the public schools system. I want to work somewhere that offers these partnerships and help expand such programs. Additionally, I want the dance world to be accessible for everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. My goal, upon graduating with my dance degree, is to promote accessibility and representation throughout my dance career, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive. I feel that my education at Point Park is preparing me to achieve these goals. However, along with my education comes expensive costs. I genuinely want to continue my journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

I want the performing arts, dance specifically, to be accessible to everyone. In Misty Copeland’s book, Life in Motion, she states, “Ballet is still a career that requires either a lot of luck (which I had) or a lot of money (which I didn’t have). In addition to impeccable training and emotional support. And as you climb, it can be lonely and terrifying to look around and see no one else who resembles you.” Unfortunately, Copeland’s words are true for many aspiring dancers, including me. Growing up, I had a lot of luck on my side, but not money. My family had to make many sacrifices for me to get to where I am now, and they’re still making sacrifices for me to stay at Point Park University. But I stay at Point Park because like Copeland, I know what it’s like to see no one else in the room who resembles me. Growing up, I was almost always the only boy in the ballet studio. At Point Park, I have male role models and male classmates. I want to continue my ballet training and pursue a career in dance to be a role model and work to make the arts accessible to all. Dance companies such as Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre make an effort to create accessibility in the arts by offering free shows to the public like their outdoor summer series, which my friends and I went to see. It warmed my heart to see young children there, inspired by the dancers on stage. Similarly, when I was given the opportunity to perform with Ballet Academy of Pittsburgh in their Nutcracker, I met several young boys who love ballet, but don’t enjoy taking class because they are the only boys in the studio. When I was their age, I also fet demotivated being the only boy in ballet class. I didn’t want to be a pixie; I wanted to be Peter Pan. I have thought about offering a boys ballet class, so I can teach them dance from a non-gendered perspective. Someday, I would like to see dance classes offered in all public schools. While history and science are important to study, the arts make life worth living. When schools don’t include arts education, students suffer. Upon completion of my dance degree, I hope to have a career that allows me to use my voice in the arts to advocate for nationally elevating arts to the level they are in Europe, where there are government funded ballet companies and academies. Arts should also be funded locally. Pre-professional ballet schools such as Miami City Ballet offer free transportation in partnership with the public schools system. I want to work somewhere that offers these partnerships and help expand such programs. Additionally, I want the dance world to be accessible for everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. My goal, upon graduating with my dance degree, is to promote accessibility and representation throughout my dance career, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive. I feel that my education at Point Park is preparing me to achieve these goals.

I want the performing arts, dance specifically, to be accessible to everyone. In Misty Copeland’s book, Life in Motion, she states, “Ballet is still a career that requires either a lot of luck (which I had) or a lot of money (which I didn’t have). In addition to impeccable training and emotional support. And as you climb, it can be lonely and terrifying to look around and see no one else who resembles you.” Unfortunately, Copeland’s words are true for many aspiring dancers, including me. Growing up, I had a lot of luck on my side, but not money. My family had to make many sacrifices for me to get to where I am now, and they’re still making sacrifices for me to stay at Point Park University. But I stay at Point Park because like Copeland, I know what it’s like to see no one else in the room who resembles me. Growing up, I was almost always the only boy in the ballet studio. At Point Park, I have male role models and male classmates. I want to continue my ballet training and pursue a career in dance to be a role model and work to make the arts accessible to all. Dance companies such as Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre make an effort to create accessibility in the arts by offering free shows to the public like their outdoor summer series, which my friends and I went to see. It warmed my heart to see young children there, inspired by the dancers on stage. Similarly, when I was given the opportunity to perform with Ballet Academy of Pittsburgh in their Nutcracker, I met several young boys who love ballet, but don’t enjoy taking class because they are the only boys in the studio. When I was their age, I also fet demotivated being the only boy in ballet class. I didn’t want to be a pixie; I wanted to be Peter Pan. I have thought about offering a boys ballet class, so I can teach them dance from a non-gendered perspective. Someday, I would like to see dance classes offered in all public schools. While history and science are important to study, the arts make life worth living. When schools don’t include arts education, students suffer. Upon completion of my dance degree, I hope to have a career that allows me to use my voice in the arts to advocate for nationally elevating arts to the level they are in Europe, where there are government funded ballet companies and academies. Arts should also be funded locally. Pre-professional ballet schools such as Miami City Ballet offer free transportation in partnership with the public schools system. I want to work somewhere that offers these partnerships and help expand such programs. I feel that my education at Point Park is preparing me to achieve these goals.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with it. At eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. One of my favorite roles I’ve portrayed is Ed in a comedy called Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last. Whenever I act, I always think about the character’s objectives. Ed is a middle schooler who wants to get his friend, Petra, together with somebody she has a crush on, Anabel. Ed puts on Romeo and Juliet and casts Petra and Anabel as the leads. Ed wants to see his best friend happy, which is why he is dedicated to the play. I also thought about Ed’s personality traits. He's loyal, protective, and caring. He is a bubbly, loud, and flamboyant extrovert. Ed is a social butterfly who has a lot of connections with his peers. I, on the other hand, am introverted. I’m often the quiet kid in class. Unsurprisingly, it took me time to figure out how to best portray Ed. I decided to try being Ed by talking to more people, which made interacting with others more comfortable for me, both on stage as Ed, and off stage in my own social life. Portraying Ed pushed me out of my comfort zone. When the play ended, I vowed to keep a little bit of Ed in my real life. Although it does not come naturally to me, occasionally playing the role of “social butterfly” has made me happier. Ultimately, that’s what I love about theatre. It allows me to try on other people’s lives for a while, and in the process, it helps me craft the person I am. Theatre also allows me to see myself represented on stage. Musicals such as The Prom and Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, which have LGBTQ representation, inspire me to my authentic self and reminds me that we all deserve to be loved and accepted. For example, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has inspired and empowered me. In Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. Before seeing this ballet, I never quite fully connected with the story. However, I can relate to the Prince feeling like he's not accepted by others in his life. In 2021, I spent weeks preparing this variation from Swan Lake, which I performed for scholarship contests, and I found Matthew Bourne’s version to be the inspiration in my mind as I prepared to perform. Ultimately, I want the dance world to be accessible for everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. My goal, upon graduating with my dance degree, is to promote accessibility and representation throughout my dance career, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with it. At eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. One of my favorite roles I’ve portrayed is Ed in a comedy called Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last. Whenever I act, I always think about the character’s objectives. Ed is a middle schooler who wants to get his friend, Petra, together with somebody she has a crush on, Anabel. Ed puts on Romeo and Juliet and casts Petra and Anabel as the leads. Ed wants to see his best friend happy, which is why he is dedicated to the play. I also thought about Ed’s personality traits. He's loyal, protective, and caring. He is a bubbly, loud, and flamboyant extrovert. Ed is a social butterfly who has a lot of connections with his peers. I, on the other hand, am introverted. I’m often the quiet kid in class. Unsurprisingly, it took me time to figure out how to best portray Ed. I decided to try being Ed by talking to more people, which made interacting with others more comfortable for me, both on stage as Ed, and off stage in my own social life. Portraying Ed pushed me out of my comfort zone. When the play ended, I vowed to keep a little bit of Ed in my real life. Although it does not come naturally to me, occasionally playing the role of “social butterfly” has made me happier. Ultimately, that’s what I love about theatre. It allows me to try on other people’s lives for a while, and in the process, it helps me craft the person I am. Theatre also allows me to see myself represented on stage. Musicals such as The Prom and Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, which have LGBTQ representation, inspire me to my authentic self and reminds me that we all deserve to be loved and accepted. For example, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has inspired and empowered me. In Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. Before seeing this ballet, I never quite fully connected with the story. However, I can relate to the Prince feeling like he's not accepted by others in his life. In 2021, I spent weeks preparing this variation from Swan Lake, which I performed for scholarship contests, and I found Matthew Bourne’s version to be the inspiration in my mind as I prepared to perform. Ultimately, I want the dance world to be accessible for everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. My goal, upon graduating with my dance degree, is to promote accessibility and representation throughout my dance career, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive.

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

On a Saturday night in early June, I attended a men's ballroom dancing class at Founders Metropolitan Community Church. When I saw this class announced in the bulletin in May, I knew I had to attend because I love to dance. I have been dancing since I was a kid. My favorite style of dance is ballet, which I plan on pursuing as a professional career. I love how it feels to move to the music and just have fun. Additionally, dance is a form of expression and it is a social activity. Dance has the power to connect one another without words. It is like a universal language, a form of communication. On the night of the ballroom class, I didn't quite know what to expect, so I walked in with no expectations. The evening started with a lesson on the basic steps of ballroom dance. The instructor had us all split into two groups; the “leaders” and the “followers”. After practicing the basic steps with our partners, we had the freedom to explore the movement; to try new and different variations of the steps the instructor had taught us. It was certainly a night to remember. Honestly, my favorite part of the night was having the chance to be a “follower” for once. I loved the feeling of being twirled across the room. As a male dancer in ballet, I am typically the “lead” because of my gender. During this class, however, gender didn’t matter whatsoever. Everyone else came for the same reason as I; to dance and to have FUN. One of the ballets that inspires me the most is Matthew Bourne’s version of Swan Lake. Unlike countless other versions of Swan Lake, in which the swans are all women, in Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. My favorite part of the ballet is when the Prince and the swan perform a pas de deux, meaning, “a dance for two”. In classical ballet, companies seldom feature same-sex pas de deux in their repertoire. This comes from a long history of ballet, which originated in the 15th century as a form of entertainment for aristocrats. Obviously, in the aristocracy of the 15th century, traditional gender roles prevailed. Men were the leaders and women were the followers. However ballet can’t remain stuck in the past. Ultimately, I want the dance world to be inclusive and accessible to everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. In the Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. Upon graduating with my dance degree, my goal and my vision for the future of the dance world is to promote accessibility and representation throughout, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone, regardless of class or gender. What does it matter who is the “leader” and the “follower” simply because of one’s gender? Afterall, the most important part of dance is telling a story to the audience. In the future, I want to become one of the people crafting the stories performed on stage. I want to tell stories in a way that those on the fringes of society will see themselves represented on stage. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive.

I love all areas of theatre. My passion evolved from children's theater to the captivating world of story ballets. I am currently working on a B.F.A. in Dance with a minor in stage management. I started out doing children's theater and taking hip hop and jazz dance classes when I was four years old. I was six years old when I was in a local production of Peter Pan and Peter Pan was also at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. Seeing Cathy Rigby’s awe inspiring flight as Peter Pan fueled my fascination with theatre magic, which continues to enthrall me today. I wanted to know everything about how she flew. For a second grade project, I taught my class all about ZFX. I still have dreams of stage managing a flying show, or even being flown myself. When I was seven, Billy Elliot: the Musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I enrolled in ballet class. I absolutely fell in love with it. At eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes nearly every day. Eventually, I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also a performing art, full of theatre magic. The past three years, I have danced the role of prince in The Nutcracker. My favorite moment is when I transform from Nutracker to prince. The collaborative effort required to create theatre magic has become a source of profound joy in my life. Theatre is a collective endeavor. It takes a village to bring stories to life on stage. I am in love with this village. I once watched a YouTube video comparing stage managers and orchestra conductors. I love the idea of orchestrating the various elements of a production. I have since stage managed a musical during high school, and I did an internship with Five Star Theatricals, where I stage managed a theatrical showcase in a huge theater with thousands of seats. These experiences have solidified my belief that stage management could be a genuine source of joy, partnering with the fulfillment I find in dance. My love of ballet and stage management has led me to pursue a life as part of both worlds - dance and technical theatre. This goal may seem ambitious, but in the words of Mary Poppins, “Anything can happen, if you let it.”

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years-old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes regularly and I absolutely fell in love with it. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. I value inclusion. To me, being inclusive means not excluding anyone. I understand what it's like to be the "other" in a room. The "others" are those who don't quite fit the mold, those who often feel excluded. In various aspects of my life, I've been that "other." In the world of ballet, traditionally dominated by females, I'm a male dancer. In high school, I was one of the few openly gay students. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I'm committed to making everyone feel included in every space I can. My goal and my vision for the future of the dance world is to promote accessibility and representation throughout, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone, regardless of class or gender. Afterall, the most important part of dance is telling a story to the audience. In the future, I want to become one of the people crafting the stories performed on stage. I want to tell stories in a way that those on the fringes of society will see themselves represented on stage. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive. I currently attend Point Park University, where I am working towards my B.F.A. in Dance. Point Park is a private university, located in Pittsburgh, with a conservatory dance program. I chose Point Park University because it is one of the only colleges in the country where students can focus on ballet, while taking classes in other styles of dance to help students become well-rounded and versatile dancers. They also have a robust theater program, which I want to pursue in addition to dance. Upon graduation from Point Park, I envision myself having a successful career in the performing arts, in which I can make my goal of creating accessibility and representation in dance a reality. However, along with these benefits comes a cost. Going to college out of state is more expensive than going to college in-state. I have to pay $29,000 for college this year, in addition to travel costs and other expenses. Their conservatory offered me scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family needs to pay the rest of it, in addition to the costs of travel. We are short of money this year. My parents are both teachers, and my dad, in addition to teaching, is working several other jobs to help our family get by while I am in school. I genuinely want to continue my dance and academic journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years-old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes regularly and I absolutely fell in love with it. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. I value inclusion. To me, being inclusive means not excluding anyone. I understand what it's like to be the "other" in a room. The "others" are those who don't quite fit the mold, those who often feel excluded. In various aspects of my life, I've been that "other." In the world of ballet, traditionally dominated by females, I'm a male dancer. In high school, I was one of the few openly gay students. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I'm committed to making everyone feel included in every space I can. My goal and my vision for the future of the dance world is to promote accessibility and representation throughout, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone, regardless of class or gender. Afterall, the most important part of dance is telling a story to the audience. In the future, I want to become one of the people crafting the stories performed on stage. I want to tell stories in a way that those on the fringes of society will see themselves represented on stage. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive. I currently attend Point Park University, where I am working towards my B.F.A. in Dance. Point Park is a private university, located in Pittsburgh, with a conservatory dance program. I chose Point Park University because it is one of the only colleges in the country where students can focus on ballet, while taking classes in other styles of dance to help students become well-rounded and versatile dancers. They also have a robust theater program, which I want to pursue in addition to dance. Upon graduation from Point Park, I envision myself having a successful career in the performing arts, in which I can make my goal of creating accessibility and representation in dance a reality. However, along with these benefits comes a cost. Going to college out of state is more expensive than going to college in-state. I have to pay $29,000 for college this year, in addition to travel costs and other expenses. Their conservatory offered me scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family needs to pay the rest of it, in addition to the costs of travel. I genuinely want to continue my dance and academic journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

I value inclusion. To me, being inclusive means not excluding anyone. I understand what it's like to be the "other" in a room. The "others" are those who don't quite fit the mold, those who often feel excluded. In various aspects of my life, I've been that "other." In the world of ballet, traditionally dominated by females, I'm a male dancer. In high school, I was one of the few openly gay students. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I'm committed to making everyone feel included in every space I can. My goal and my vision for the future of the dance world is to promote accessibility and representation throughout, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone, regardless of class or gender. Afterall, the most important part of dance is telling a story to the audience. In the future, I want to become one of the people crafting the stories performed on stage. I want to tell stories in a way that those on the fringes of society will see themselves represented on stage. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive. I currently attend Point Park University, where I am working towards my B.F.A. in Dance. Point Park is a private university, located in Pittsburgh, with a conservatory dance program. I chose Point Park University because it is one of the only colleges in the country where students can focus on ballet, while taking classes in other styles of dance to help students become well-rounded and versatile dancers. They also have a robust theater program, which I want to pursue in addition to dance. Upon graduation from Point Park, I envision myself having a successful career in the performing arts, in which I can make my goal of creating accessibility and representation in dance a reality However, along with these benefits comes a cost. Going to college out of state is more expensive than going to college in-state. I have to pay $29,000 for college this year, in addition to travel costs and other expenses. Their conservatory offered me scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family needs to pay the rest of it, in addition to the costs of travel. I genuinely want to continue my dance and academic journey at Point Park, and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

On a Saturday night in early June, I attended a men's ballroom dancing class at my church. When I saw this class announced in the bulletin in May, I knew I had to attend because I love to dance. I have been dancing since I was a kid. My favorite style of dance is ballet, which I plan on pursuing as a professional career. I love how it feels to move to the music and just have fun. Additionally, dance is a form of expression and it is a social activity. Dance has the power to connect one another without words. It is like a universal language, a form of communication. On the night of the ballroom class, I didn't quite know what to expect, so I walked in with no expectations. The evening started with a lesson on the basic steps of ballroom dance. The instructor had us all split into two groups; the “leaders” and the “followers”. After practicing the basic steps with our partners, we had the freedom to explore the movement; to try new and different variations of the steps the instructor had taught us. It was certainly a night to remember. Honestly, my favorite part of the night was having the chance to be a “follower” for once. I loved the feeling of being twirled across the room. As a male dancer in ballet, I am typically the “lead” because of my gender. During this class, however, gender didn’t matter whatsoever. Everyone else came for the same reason as I; to dance and to have FUN. One of the ballets that inspires me the most is Matthew Bourne’s version of Swan Lake. Unlike countless other versions of Swan Lake, in which the swans are all women, in Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. My favorite part of the ballet is when the Prince and the swan perform a pas de deux, meaning, “a dance for two”. In classical ballet, companies seldom feature same-sex pas de deux in their repertoire. This comes from a long history of ballet, which originated in the 15th century as a form of entertainment for aristocrats. Obviously, in the aristocracy of the 15th century, traditional gender roles prevailed. Men were the leaders and women were the followers. However ballet can’t remain stuck in the past. Ultimately, I want the dance world to be inclusive and accessible to everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. Currently, I'm in my first semester of college at Point Park University pursuing a B.F.A. in Dance. Upon graduating with my dance degree, my goal and my vision for the future of the dance world is to promote accessibility and representation throughout, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone, regardless of class or gender. What does it matter who is the “leader” and the “follower” simply because of one’s gender? Afterall, the most important part of dance is telling a story to the audience. In the future, I want to become one of the people crafting the stories performed on stage. I want to tell stories in a way that those on the fringes of society will see themselves represented on stage. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive.

@vinnyvole

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years-old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes regularly and I absolutely fell in love with it. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. I love theatre and dance because of my love for storytelling. One of my favorite roles I’ve portrayed is Ed in a comedy called Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last, which we performed in drama class when I was in high school. Whenever I play a new role, I think about the character’s main objective in the play. In Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last, Ed is a middle schooler who wants to get his best friend, Petra, together with somebody she has a crush on, Anabel. Ed does so by putting on a production of Romeo and Juliet and casting Petra and Anabel as the leads. Ed genuinely wants to see his best friend happy, which is the reason he is so dedicated to putting on the play. Towards the beginning of the rehearsal process, I also thought about Ed’s personality traits. He's loyal, protective, and caring. He is intuitive and makes decisions quickly. He is a bubbly, loud, and flamboyant extrovert. Ed is a social butterfly who has a lot of connections with his peers. I, on the other hand, tend to be rather introverted. I’m often the quiet kid in class, and I take my time with every decision I make. Unsurprisingly, it took me some time to figure out how to best portray Ed. I decided to try being Ed by talking to more people throughout my day. This made interacting with others more comfortable for me, both on stage as Ed, and off stage in my own social life as Vinny. I really liked Ed. I had fun being Ed. Portraying Ed pushed me out of my comfort zone. When the play ended, I vowed to keep a little bit of Ed in my real life. Although it does not come naturally to me, occasionally playing the role of “social butterfly” has made me a happier person. Ultimately, that’s what I love so much about theatre. It allows me to try on other people’s lives for a while, and in the process, it helps me craft the person I am. Theatre also allows me to see myself represented on stage. Musicals such as The Prom and Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, which both have LGBTQ representation, inspire me to my true, authentic self and reminds me that we all deserve to be loved and accepted. For example, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has inspired and empowered me. Unlike countless other versions of Swan Lake, in which the swans are all women, in Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. Before seeing this ballet, I never quite fully connected with the story. However, I can relate to the Prince feeling like he's not accepted by others in his life. In 2021, I spent weeks preparing this variation from Swan Lake, which I performed for scholarship contests, and I found Matthew Bourne’s version to be the inspiration in my mind as I prepared to perform. Eventually, I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Dance becomes more exciting when it is performed with intention. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. Ultimately, I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others.

My favorite thing about Disney is the magic and the storytelling. When I was little, my parents bought me every Disney DVD that appeared on store shelves, and took me to see every Disney movie that came out in theaters. Disney was my happy place. When Princess and the Frog came out in 2009, my mom was pregnant with my sister. I insisted that she be named Tiana. It took a few months, but my parents gave in. Disney women inspire me. I vividly remember the first time I saw the national tour of Mary Poppins the musical, at five years old. I was transported to London, where there were statues doing ballet in the park and chimney sweeps tap dancing on the rooftops. I also watched in awe as Mary Poppins flew across the sky. Seeing Mary Poppins sparked my interest in theatre and my love of storytelling. That year, I bought colorful lights with my birthday money and I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed to make my bedroom into a "theatre". I remember doing shows all the time, singing along to my favorite Disney songs. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast Tiana or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. Disney fostered a love of storytelling that has come to define me. Disney inspires me to dream big and work hard to achieve my dreams in life. In the words of Peter Pan, “All it takes is faith and trust and a little bit of pixie dust.” This right here is Disney magic in its essence. To me, Disney magic is more than fairy dust and pixie dust (although that is pretty cool ✨). To me, Disney magic is hope and faith. It is belief. The belief in the impossible. Or in the words of Mary Poppins, “Anything can happen if you let it.” Whether big or small, everyone dreams of something. Everything starts with a dream, and what I love about Disney magic is that it inspires me to make my dreams a reality. Regardless of one’s age, nobody is too old to stop dreaming and believing in Disney magic. This reminds me of the story of Walt Disney and the carousel. One Saturday, when Walt took his children to the carousel in Griffith Park, he sat on a bench and watched while they rode the merry-go-round. Walt felt that there should be a place where parents and children could have fun together, which is how Disneyland started. It’s truly inspiring to know that such a magical and exciting place as Disneyland, which continues to thrive, all started with Walt’s dream as he was sitting on a park bench. A dream of a place where adults could have fun with their children. Walt’s legacy lives on today as Disneyland continues to thrive because people of all ages keep believing in Disney magic.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula, all at once. Other times, I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows and school plays. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with dance. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes multiple days a week. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. The story revolves around a young boy who is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was the “Dream Ballet” scene, when Billy dances with his older self. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I am passionate about ballet; it is what I love doing. Whenever I dance, I feel happy. I simply enjoy moving to the music with grace and elegance. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. I got accepted into Point Park University’s dance program, where I plan on attending in the fall. Point Park is a private university, located in Pittsburgh, with a conservatory program which has a ballet concentration. I chose Point Park University because it is one of the only colleges in the country where students can focus on ballet. For male identifying dancers, Point Park offers men’s technique class every semester, in addition to pas de deux class and numerous performing opportunities, which would give me the training and experience I need to prepare myself for a professional career in the ballet industry. They also have a robust theater program, which I hope to pursue in addition to dance. Going to college out of state is far more expensive than going to college in-state. I have to pay $29,000 for college this year, in addition to travel costs and other expenses. Additionally, in November 2022, my father's contract with his church ended. Since then, he decided to go back to school to earn his teaching credential. With my father and I both in school this year, it is going to be difficult to pay for Point Park's tuition. It would mean so much for me to attend Point Park this fall and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

During my freshman year of high school, I started serving as a club leader for my school’s Gay Straight Alliance. As a leader of the club some of the responsibilities include helping to plan meetings, presenting, inviting guest speakers, and recruiting new members. These tasks are challenging enough on campus. My first year as a GSA leader was completely online. Out of an abundance of caution, Vaughn stayed on Zoom the entire year. Several members who usually attend in-person meetings did not login to our Zoom sessions at lunch because home is not a safe space for them. Although, I ensured the sense of togetherness we usually have at in-person meetings continued remotely. Every year, by the time November arrives, we all eat pie together and have a “Friendsgiving”. The pandemic did not stop us from doing this. Throughout the week of the meeting before the break, I delivered a slice of pie to each of the members, including members with low attendance. On Zoom, we all ate our slices of pie and shared something we were thankful for, continuing that sense of togetherness. Presenting is a whole different story. Presenting a powerpoint on Zoom is awkward enough. One of my fellow leaders felt that we should make a powerpoint about sex education. Honestly, I was not too fond of the idea. Why would I want to talk about sex with my peers? However, everyone was genuinely engaged and had lots of questions, most of which our club advisor had to answer. Since 2020, now that school is in-person, I realize how important it is as a leader to build community with one another and form connections with my peers. Towards the beginning of the 2021-2022 school year, which was my school’s first year back after being online, our GSA hosted a “speed friending” activity because if home isn’t a safe space, it is vital to have a support system of friends. Additionally, I realize how important it is to form connections with those who are passionate about leading the club, such as allowing other members to lead a meeting so they can build their leadership skills. Especially during my senior year, I focused on the legacy I would leave behind. Overall, I want to ensure that our GSA remains active next year and beyond because I care about my school being a safe space for future students to come.

I value inclusion. Being inclusive means not being exclusive. I know how it feels to be an “other.” It is the “others,” those who are not quite the same as everyone else, who often feel excluded. I am an “other” in a lot of areas of my life. I am a male dancer in the ballet world, which is dominated by females. I attend a school where the majority of the students are Latino and speak Spanish. I am not Latino, and I am one of the only students who doesn’t speak Spanish. Because it is a conservative community, I am one of the few “out” gay kids at my school. Since I know how it feels to be excluded, I strive to make everyone feel included in every space that I can. As a club leader for the Gay Straight Alliance, I have exhibited a commitment to inclusion by welcoming everyone, whether they are openly gay, in the closet, or even just an ally. I joined GSA in middle school, but my first year as a high school GSA leader was completely online since my school stayed on Zoom the entire year. Several members who attended in-person meetings did not login to Zoom sessions because home is not a safe space for them. I wanted to make them feel included, even if they couldn’t log in to Zoom meetings. I appreciated the sense of togetherness from our in-person meetings in middle school, so I wanted to find some way it could continue remotely. I encouraged my old middle school GSA peers to login to Zoom and participate in the chat. I made a point to include everyone, even the cameras off and chat-only participants, by reading their comments aloud and responding to each of them individually. The high school GSA had a tradition of eating pie together each November. Before the meeting, I delivered a slice of pie to each of the members, at their homes, including members who couldn’t always attend on zoom. That Tuesday, we all ate our slices of pie and shared what we were thankful for, continuing that sense of togetherness. Once school returned in-person, many of our online club members came to in person meetings, so as a leader, I worked to build community and form connections with my GSA peers. Towards the beginning of the 2021-2022 school year, which was my school’s first year back, we hosted a “speed friending” activity to help build a support system of friends. We continue to have community circles about various topics, such as mental health. Even though it is sometimes hard for me to share, I try to open up as much as possible, since my struggles might look like other people’s struggles, and hearing about it might help someone feel less alone. Regardless of one’s identity, ethnicity, personality, age or disability, in GSA, we celebrate everyone and lift each other up. In the Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. I appreciate the diversity in Point Park’s dance department. Ultimately, I want the dance world to be accessible for everyone, regardless of one’s appearance, gender identity, or economic background. The ballet world needs more representation of individuals from all backgrounds, in choreography and in leadership. My goal, upon graduating with my dance degree, is to promote accessibility and representation throughout my dance career, so ballet becomes more inclusive to everyone. Ballet can stay relevant if the next generation of dancers, such as myself, take the responsibility of inclusion and diversity seriously, to keep ballet alive.

I was born and raised in Simi Valley, a suburban town just outside of Los Angeles County. Growing up, I did not have the best experience attending school in Simi. To sum it up, I went to three different schools between kindergarten and fifth grade. When I was in third grade, my teacher had told me not to draw on the back of a test. I don’t know why this bothered the teacher so much. I was simply expressing myself. Creativity should be encouraged, not diminished. This experience made me fear being my true self at school. I also faced discrimination from a campus supervisor, who had called me “Fairy Poppins”, making fun of my Mary Poppins obsession at the time because it was considered “girly”. In the first grade, a kid shoved me and called me “fag”. As I decided to grow out my hair, I was told many times that I looked like a girl. When I was in middle school, my family moved to Berkeley for a year so my dad could finish seminary. As tough as it is to move to a new place and start at a new school, I fell in love with the Bay Area very quickly. I remember my humanities teacher mentioning something about her wife a few times. Up to that point, I did not have any teachers in school who were “out”. Furthermore, our neighbors in Berkeley, Juli, who was studying with my dad in seminary, and her wife Michelle sort of became second mothers, as my mom would commute back to Socal on weekdays to continue teaching. It has always been so important to have queer role models in my life. Eventually, when my family moved back to SoCal, a woman named Katie Hill was running for Congress in the District which Simi Valley is part of. Even though we did not move back to Simi, my family and I cared about flipping the District "Blue." Especially since up until that point, Simi Valley hadn't been represented by a woman. I did online school that year, so either on weekends or days when I did not have much schoolwork, I'd help canvas. Katie Hill is openly bisexual. Once she got elected, she became the first openly LGBTQ+ member of Congress to represent the District. Having that representation for Simi Valley in the United States Congress was truly special. I remember listening to various speeches in which she'd passionately advocate for LGBTQ+ rights, feeling inspired by her voice. Members of Congress such as Katie Hill inspire me to use my own voice to advocate for my rights as an LGBTQ+ youth. Last year, I volunteered to present at the Models of Pride Conference on implementing queer inclusive sex ed in schools. Presenting at Models of Pride was a unique experience to empower other like minded youth who want to advocate for change. In 2019, I visited Sacramento for Advocacy Day with Equality California to advocate for implementing LGBTQ+ inclusive training for teachers. I remember how I felt a few weeks later when it passed in the state Assembly, knowing that sharing my story with elected officials helped make a difference for other LGBTQ+ youth in California. Sharing stories and making one’s voice heard truly matters in order to create change.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula, all at once. Other times, I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows and school plays. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with dance. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes multiple days a week. I am passionate about ballet; it is what I love doing. Whenever I dance, I feel happy. I simply enjoy moving to the music with grace and elegance. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. Eventually, I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. After graduating from high school, I plan on focusing all of my energy on professional dance training. This Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. Through attending a college dance program, I can maintain strong classical technique while also becoming a more versatile dancer. Numerous companies have expanded their repertoire to include contemporary pieces, instead of only performing classical ballets. Thus, taking classes outside of ballet is crucial in order to successfully pursue a career in dance. The dance program at Point Park University in Pittsburgh has a concentration in ballet. Very few college dance programs have that, and none of them are in my home state. For male identifying dancers, Point Park offers men’s technique class every semester, in addition to pas de deux class and numerous performing opportunities, which would give me the training and experience I need to prepare myself for a professional career in the ballet industry. Point Park also has a robust theater program, which I hope to pursue in addition to dance. Going to Point Park would allow me to dance and act, which is an important skill to have as a professional dancer. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I also look forward to experiencing Pittsburgh’s culture, which is a rather artsy city. Pittsburgh is home to art museums such as the Carnegie Museum of Art and The Andy Warhol Museum. There are also theaters such as the Benedum Center for the Performing Arts, which has several Broadway shows and ballets performed by Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre each year. Ultimately, I’m choosing Point Park because I think nowhere else in this country will set me up better for future success as a performing artist. In November 2022, my father’s contract with his church ended. Since then, he decided to go back to school to earn his teaching credential. With my father and I both in school this year, it is going to be difficult to pay for Point Park’s tuition. Their conservatory offered me scholarship money to help cover costs, but my family will need to pay the rest of it. Additionally, attending college out of state is more expensive than going to college in-state. It would mean so much for me to attend Point Park this fall and I will feel much pride in being able to fund my college tuition through this scholarship.

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

I am passionate about ballet; it is what I love doing. I have always known that I want to be a performing artist. I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. This Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. At Point Park, I am excited about all the shows I will be able to perform in, as the dance program puts on multiple shows each semester. Point Park also has a robust theater program, which I hope to pursue in addition to dance. I’ve been in shows since I was a kid, and I am just as passionate about theatre as I am about dance. Going to Point Park would allow me to dance and act, which is an important skill to have as a professional dancer. Performing always fills my emotional bucket with loads of joy, as I love sharing the magic of live theatre with others. In college, I strive to maintain my mental health by eating a healthy, well-balanced diet and getting lots of sleep so I have enough energy for all my dance classes and rehearsals each day, as well as prevent mental fatigue in my academic classes. As much as it is an art form, dance is without a doubt an athletic activity. As a dancer, it is crucial to maintain healthy eating habits by eating foods that will give me energy and restore sore muscles, in addition to eating an amount of food based on the calories I burn each day. For example, I love starting my day with breakfast, and I never skip it. Eating a balanced breakfast each day puts me in a good mood and gives me plenty of energy. When I practice healthy eating habits, it improves my mental health and makes a difference in my dancing. In addition to prioritizing healthy eating habits and sleep, I will keep in touch with my family often. Calling my family will help me to not get homesick while being away from them. Additionally, I plan on putting up photos in my dorm room to give it a sense of home. I will also focus on making new friends with my peers. Since I do not have any family members in Pittsburgh, I need to find my chosen family and form a new support system so I have people whom I can trust and rely on.

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Most people think having OCD means keeping everything clean, which is partly true. My OCD is like this little monster in my head. In my own voice, he says, repeatedly,: “Are you sure the door is locked? It couldn’t hurt to check one more time.” “Close the zipper all the way.” “Close the drawers, all the way. Push it one more time just to make sure it's shut. What if there is an earthquake and all the stuff goes flying out?” I am aware that none of this is logical. If there is an earthquake, the stuff will go flying out anyway. I cannot help it though. It has been this way since I was in kindergarten. If the teacher moved us to do group work, I couldn’t focus on the work because I was busy being bothered by someone else sitting in my seat. I recall feeling like the world was going to end if they moved my stuff. I love my systems. My books needed to be in size order inside my desk. What if they took one out to look at it? These household tasks are bothersome, but I find it most troublesome when my OCD spirals, interfering with academics. To say that I overthink assignments would be an understatement. The easiest way for me to manage my OCD is by keeping myself busy. When I keep myself busy, I don’t take as much time preventing catastrophe or worrying about my systems getting out of order. Staying busy was easy until 2020. Without going to dance classes to keep me busy, I had plenty of time to focus on school. Thus, my OCD wanted to make sure every assignment I turned in was perfect. In the fall of 2020, I took physical education, online, via zoom and distance learning. Each week, the teacher assigned a sports essay. I knew nothing about sports. I spent my childhood dancing and doing theatre, not kicking goals or scoring home runs. Needless to say, I couldn’t write perfect essays about sports, thus I didn’t do most of them. One week, I decided to give the essay on basketball a shot (no pun intended). I laboriously drafted and edited, including important details and citing all of my sources. I got the essay back the next day with points marked off because I had exceeded the maximum word count. I felt surprised because I figured the teacher would be pleased with all the details I wrote about. Ultimately, I learned from that imperfect essay. I realized I had wasted hours on it, when the teacher intended it to be a much simpler assignment. From then on, I set boundaries for myself. I wrote the 250 words the teacher assigned and forced myself to turn it in without proofreading it five times. When school finally returned in-person in fall of 2021, I gained more control over my OCD. I returned to daily routines I had missed during the pandemic, like eating lunch with friends. Chatting with my friends prevents me from wasting my lunch hour rewriting a thesis statement seventeen times. Occasionally forgetting a line in drama class reminds me that I do not need to be perfect, and what’s more important is that I am having fun performing in plays. Now, whenever I find myself overthinking an assignment, I remind myself that nobody is perfect. There will always be some subjects I don’t understand as much as others, and that is perfectly fine.

I dream of being a professional dancer and arts advocate.

I dream of becoming a professional ballet dancer. As much as it is an art form, dance is without a doubt an athletic activity. As a dancer, it is crucial to maintain healthy eating habits by eating foods that will give me energy and restore sore muscles, in addition to eating an amount of food based on the calories I burn each day. When I practice healthy eating habits, it improves my mental health and makes a difference in my dancing. One of my favorite meals of the day is breakfast. I love starting my day with breakfast, and I never skip it. Eating a balanced breakfast each day puts me in a good mood and gives me plenty of energy. Scrambled eggs are a must. They are a good source of protein, and as a dancer, consuming plenty of protein is vital for success, as it improves muscle growth and recovery after exercise. Without protein, my body would not get stronger. With my eggs, I usually like to eat a bagel and cream cheese (for carbs and more protein!). Consuming carbs in the morning ensures that my body receives plenty of energy for a full day of dancing. Without carbs, my body will become physically fatigued faster, making it more difficult to maintain stamina and endurance. Additionally, eating enough carbs makes up for all the calories I burn each day. When I'm at the ballet studio, I love to eat either protein bars or fruit (bananas are my favorite!) during my breaks. Bananas are a great source of potassium, which helps to prevent cramps. Additionally, I drink lots and lots of water during and in between classes or rehearsals. Staying hydrated aids blood circulation and prevents injuries. Eating healthy snacks and drinking plenty of water ensures that I go about my day with as little pain and muscle cramps as possible, so I can stay focused on my dance training. When I get home from dance, I love a home-cooked meal! I am a pescetarian, which means I eat fish, but not other types of meat, and my family is vegetarian, but that doesn't mean I don't get enough protein in my diet. Some of my favorite meals my family cooks often which have lots of protein include burrito bowls, cous cous with chickpeas and veggies, and bibimbap bowls. Ultimately, food is the best source of fuel, and practicing healthy eating habits is good for both my mind and body.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. What really sparked my interest in theatre was when I saw the national tour of Mary Poppins. I fell in love with the magic of theatre. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. Last year, I volunteered to play Peter Pan with a group called Fairytales in the Park, in which we performed free outdoor children's shows. It brings me joy to share the magic of theatre with others. In addition to performing in shows, when I was seven, I started taking ballet classes. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others. Hopefully I can become a source of inspiration and empowerment for other boys who want to dance, just as Dream Billy was for me. During the peak of the pandemic, there were many days I wanted to quit ballet. Dancing from home was demotivating, as I lacked in-person connections with other dancers and I did not have enough space to travel across the floor. Fortunately, a group called The Male Dance Connection formed online, and it outlasted covid. Every week, even in 2023, Bryce Lee, a company dancer from the Colorado Ballet, teaches men’s ballet classes on Zoom. Bryce’s online classes motivated me to continue dancing. I have cherished the opportunity to connect with other boys who share my passion for dance. Through these online classes, I have formed lifelong friendships, despite us all living in different states. Additionally, Bryce has become a positive influence in my dance career. Thanks to Bryce’s classes, I did not quit ballet, which I am forever grateful for because the performing arts is a necessity. If I’m ever feeling down or have a bad day, going to dance class lifts my spirits and makes me happy.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. What really sparked my interest in theatre was when I saw the national tour of Mary Poppins. I fell in love with the magic of theatre. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. In 2016, I played my first lead role as Edgar in Ragtime. I have also performed in multiple drama shows at school. Last year, volunteered to play Peter Pan with a group called Fairytales in the Park, in which we performed free outdoor children's shows. It brings me joy to share the magic of theatre with others. I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. Since 2017, most of my focus has been on ballet training. This Fall, I plan on attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. Ultimately, I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others.

I love storytelling. When I was five, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes, I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes and I absolutely fell in love with it. At eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. One of my favorite roles I’ve portrayed is Ed in a comedy called Romeo and Juliet Together (and Alive!) at Last. Whenever I act, I always think about the character’s objectives. Ed is a middle schooler who wants to get his friend, Petra, together with somebody she has a crush on, Anabel. Ed puts on Romeo and Juliet and casts Petra and Anabel as the leads. Ed wants to see his best friend happy, which is why he is dedicated to the play. I also thought about Ed’s personality traits. He's loyal, protective, and caring. He is a bubbly, loud, and flamboyant extrovert. Ed is a social butterfly who has a lot of connections with his peers. I, on the other hand, am introverted. I’m often the quiet kid in class. Unsurprisingly, it took me time to figure out how to best portray Ed. I decided to try being Ed by talking to more people, which made interacting with others more comfortable for me, both on stage as Ed, and off stage in my own social life. Portraying Ed pushed me out of my comfort zone. When the play ended, I vowed to keep a little bit of Ed in my real life. Although it does not come naturally to me, occasionally playing the role of “social butterfly” has made me happier. Ultimately, that’s what I love about theatre. It allows me to try on other people’s lives for a while, and in the process, it helps me craft the person I am. Theatre also allows me to see myself represented on stage. Musicals such as The Prom and Everybody’s Talking About Jamie, which have LGBTQ representation, inspire me to my authentic self and reminds me that we all deserve to be loved and accepted. For example, Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake has inspired and empowered me. In Matthew Bourne’s version, the swans are played by men. In the ballet, the Prince falls in love with the lead swan. Before seeing this ballet, I never quite fully connected with the story. However, I can relate to the Prince feeling like he's not accepted by others in his life. In 2021, I spent weeks preparing this variation from Swan Lake, which I performed for scholarship contests, and I found Matthew Bourne’s version to be the inspiration in my mind as I prepared to perform. Eventually, I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. Through my dancing, I want to tell stories. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Dance becomes more exciting when it is performed with intention. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. Ultimately, I want to utilize my dance abilities and my voice as an artist to inspire others.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years-old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes regularly and I absolutely fell in love with it. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. After graduating from high school, I plan on focusing all of my energy on professional dance training. This Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. I'm choosing Point Park University because it's just a few short blocks to The Milkshake Factory, which has some of the best milkshakes I've ever had. All kidding aside, I'm really choosing Point Park because I think nowhere else in this country will set me up better for future success as a professional dancer. The dance program at Point Park University in Pittsburgh has a concentration in ballet. Very few college dance programs have that. For male identifying dancers, Point Park offers men’s technique class every semester, in addition to pas de deux class and numerous performing opportunities, which would give me the training and experience I need to prepare myself for a professional career in the ballet industry. Point Park also has a robust theater program, which I hope to pursue in addition to dance. Going to Point Park would allow me to dance and act, which is an important skill to have as a professional dancer. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I also look forward to experiencing Pittsburgh’s culture. Pittsburgh is home to art museums such as the Carnegie Museum of Art and The Andy Warhol Museum. There are also theaters such as the Benedum Center for the Performing Arts, which has several Broadway shows and ballets performed by Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre each year. Ultimately, I’m choosing Point Park because I think nowhere else in this country will set me up better for future success as a performing artist.

I have always loved storytelling. When I was five years-old, I’d do shows in my bedroom. I bought colorful lights with my birthday money. I hung stage “curtains” from my bunk bed. Sometimes I’d do shows by myself. I was happy to play Ariel, Eric, and Ursula all at once. Other times I’d cast my sister or my friends or my grandmother in supporting roles. My love of storytelling defines me. Eventually, I graduated to community theatre shows. When I was seven, I started taking ballet classes regularly and I absolutely fell in love with it. At age eleven, I got more serious about ballet, and started taking ballet classes more days a week. Being a boy in the ballet world has never been easy. As one of the only guys in my ballet classes, I sometimes feel like an outcast. I remember taking my first ballet class at the city recreation center when I was five, and I did not enjoy it at first because I was the only boy and the teacher had us pretend to be “fairies.” After that class, I didn’t go back to ballet for a few years. In 2013, Billy Elliot the musical was playing at a local theater, so my mom and I went to go see it. Billy Elliot, a young boy, is forced to do boxing, but wants to pursue his dreams of ballet. My favorite scene was “Dream Ballet,” when Billy dances with his older self, a professional dancer. I was so inspired by the show that the day after, I showed up to ballet class again. I still love telling stories like I did when I was a little kid, except now I tell stories through movement. I dream of dancing in a professional ballet company. After graduating from high school, I plan on focusing all of my energy on professional dance training. This Fall, I will be attending Point Park University for my B.F.A. in Dance. I'm choosing Point Park University because it's just a few short blocks to The Milkshake Factory, which has some of the best milkshakes I've ever had. All kidding aside, I'm really choosing Point Park because I think nowhere else in this country will set me up better for future success as a professional dancer. The dance program at Point Park University in Pittsburgh has a concentration in ballet. Very few college dance programs have that. For male identifying dancers, Point Park offers men’s technique class every semester, in addition to pas de deux class and numerous performing opportunities, which would give me the training and experience I need to prepare myself for a professional career in the ballet industry. Point Park also has a robust theater program, which I hope to pursue in addition to dance. Going to Point Park would allow me to dance and act, which is an important skill to have as a professional dancer. As much as ballet is an athletic activity, it is also an art form. Making a statement and telling a story with one’s dancing is just as important as having strong technique. I also look forward to experiencing Pittsburgh’s culture. Pittsburgh is home to art museums such as the Carnegie Museum of Art and The Andy Warhol Museum. There are also theaters such as the Benedum Center for the Performing Arts, which has several Broadway shows and ballets performed by Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre each year. Ultimately, I’m choosing Point Park because I think nowhere else in this country will set me up better for future success as a performing artist.