Hello! My name is Zoe Likely, and I am from Wallingford, Pennsylvania, located just outside Philadelphia. This fall, I will be attending American University, where I will be studying International Relations and Linguistics. I hope to join the school's dance team, write for the newspaper, and participate in the networking sorority at my school, Delta Gamma. I am very interested in the sorority because I love the idea of having a sisterhood at school, specifically where we all look to lift each other professionally into fields that are typically male-dominated. My dream is to work in diplomacy, specifically as a U.S. ambassador for a country in the Americas. In the United States' current political state, Central and South America are extremely underrepresented for being our direct neighbors. I want to speak up for the people in Central and South America who could use our support and wage diplomacy between all of the nations. Working for the government in some way is a dream of mine because that is where change gets made. I want to be able to change someone's life in my job. Raising the minimum wage, reducing the cost of college tuition, and fixing housing insecurity. It excites me to see the impact of my work, and inspires people to do the same as I. One way I have supported women's empowerment is through the organization Unite For Her. Unite For Her is an organization based outside of Philadelphia that works to empower and support women struggling with breast and/or ovarian cancer. I have been involved with this organization for the past two years after my aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. At my school, I founded the Unite for Her club, where all of the money we raised goes straight to the organization. In my junior year, when I founded the club, we raised $1,500, and in my senior year, we raised $2,500. In addition to raising money, we went and visited women in the hospital to hang out with them during chemo treatment because it is a long, grueling process. To continue women's empowerment, I plan to do small things, such as encouraging classmates to stick with careers that are male-dominated, or joining clubs all about female empowerment. At the end of the day, female empowerment starts from within. It starts with having confidence in your abilities, and not letting a man think that they are better because of the social hierarchy our society has chosen to follow.

Hard work doesn't stop when you sleep. My mother, Lisa, was on track to go to college, get a degree, work in the city, and make her mother proud. However, the price of education got in the way, and she needed to drop out after her first semester to help my grandma pay her bills. She worked two jobs, as a waitress and a maid at a hotel, waiting for an opportunity to arise. My father, Chris, dreamed of being on television. He went to community college, was able to graduate from Temple University, but found himself in a similar situation to my mom. He had left his family, worked as a cook and bartender, barely making ends meet. But they worked. Hard. They worked hard to get their children into a good school district with opportunities, finding the cheapest house they could. They put all their money towards their children. Club field hockey, basketball, Girl Scouts, anything to get their children ahead. The thing was, my parents were silent about their struggles because I was a worrier. They didn't tell me about the thousands of dollars of debt they were in because of medical bills for my grandma, for my father, for the house. Everything was always ok as long as my brother and I were happy. Once I got older, they were not as secretive, and they made jokes about it. Laughing through the pain as they sorted through bills at the dining room table, dreaming of one day winning the lottery. Until about last spring, when the topic of college came up. Neither my father nor my mother had an easy road to education. My mother got her degree this year after 30 years of taking night classes, juggling two jobs, and raising two children. I have always wanted to work as a diplomat, and throughout high school, I centered my extracurriculars around that idea. I took all of the AP history and politics classes my school offered. I worked at a think tank and with a political lobbyist. I kept my grades up so I could make a change in my family. And we made it, but there is still so much more. Despite my working two jobs, and both of my parents, we barely scratch away at the bill due on the dreaded June 22nd. We are the Likely's, but we will make it happen. Because hard work doesn't stop when you sleep. This scholarship would take a small burden off my family's plate, and help us see the light towards a better future. But no matter what, I will keep on working, my family will keep on supporting, and we will succeed.

Public speaking, for me, is like swimming in the sense that there is a high probability I would drown in water deeper than 10 feet. These are both my weakest abilities, and thankfully, I do not need to swim much. But, when I learned about the 30-point presentation in front of the whole class with a maximum of 4 notecards, I wanted floaties for an attempt at saving myself from embarrassment. What frightened me was the pity from the audience. Belligerence floated around in small bubbles, popping one by one for every stutter I made. But alas, I arrived at the board to present. The first lines went well. Then it came to explain why my podcast was related to Mice and Men, and I slowly went underwater, while my mouth could not move to speak. Twenty pairs of eyes tracked me as my foundation shook, and I was silent. My teacher tried to rescue me, her tone was steady but not soothing because I remembered I was standing in front of the smartest people I knew, looking like an idiot. My eyes were blurring from tears, and my mouth was drained of saliva. “I don’t know the rest of my speech. I cannot remember.” My teacher looked puzzled as my hands shook with crumpled-up note cards. “Stay up there, Zoe, just until the timer runs out.” So I stood, scanning the room as I felt I was drowning in my sea of tears. The next person to present had a relaxed face, as nothing could be worse than that fiasco. I took AP Seminar, embracing ambition, a dare, more accurately. I knew my abilities, yet I risked embarrassment, making a dare to myself to go beyond all limits. I worked with my teachers until I became confident in my words, like swimming lessons. My favorite childhood game was Dare or Double Dare, as it pushed limits and stimulated all types of personal growth. My relationship with public speaking is still tainted, however, I have gained the confidence to host multiple school assemblies and present to the same class I once embarrassed myself in. I honor that teacher for forcing me to stay up there, even though I cried to my guidance counselor about it approximately 45 seconds later. I needed this experience because I do not like to do things I'm not good at. I don't like to be uncomfortable. But, as I continue my studies at American University in the fall, and I engage with classmates in equally challenging political debates, I will know my voice is worth something. And when I work for the U.S. Embassy, I'll speak on behalf of the people, and not get choked up in the middle of my sentence. I still have a lot to improve in public speaking. But in a time where it seems you need to be a master to get an opportunity or to win a scholarship, it was valuable for me to understand that it is ok to be a novice, and the growth I have is most important. P.S.: Not that it matters, I’m still a terrible swimmer. So after I perfect public speaking, that’s a second priority.

My main professional goal is to become a United States diplomat focusing on human rights. Advocating for myself and others has always been an important part of my life. Advocacy is how I found who I am as a person and what I value. In school, I am the president of the Young Activist Coalition, a group of young students who advocate for those who can't in our community, and generally in our world. We hold the school's Black History Month Assembly, paint murals around the school, and hold bake sales for certain groups. In October, we sold candy bags where all of the proceeds went to breast cancer patients, and in April, we are holding a bake sale for sexual assault survivors in a shelter. We give safe spaces for students to talk about hard feelings, for example, when a student suddenly passes away at our school, or the shock of some students with the 2024 election. Leading the group has let me see the small things we do and their impact, and taught me things I will cherish forever. Outside of school, I work with the Media Fellowship House, which was originally started to support those with housing insecurity; however, now advocates for elderly protections and access to healthier foods. I am one of the volunteers who help take care of our free garden, planting seeds, pulling weeds, watering the plants, and plucking them when ripe, ready to give out to the community, or prepare for people to come and pick up. This year, I am hoping to help with the housing insecurity sector, helping people fund their housing payments, working with their loans, and supporting them in any way necessary. I live in an upper-middle-class area, so ignorantly, I don't always see people struggling. I see my own family struggle with my future college tuition, but this experience has shown me how I can't turn a blind eye to things I don't see all the time. That even in good areas, people still struggle, and still need support. Finally, this January, I worked with a group of college students to advocate for same-day voter registration in PA. I wrote senators, representatives, trying to get the bill reintroduced. After many meetings and a lack of support, the bill was reintroduced in the House and will soon make it to the Senate. This is the first time I've seen the impact my advocacy can make, and solidified what I want to do with my life. I was to make this earth as safe as possible, and these opportunities have shown me that it can happen, as long as I put in the work.