The Gold Law Firm Challenge Yourself Scholarship Winners

Generation Z will forever be known as the social media generation. We use social media to meet each other and communicate. We are also a very politically active generation. While social media can help Generation Z’s political activity by offering a platform for news to spread, it also comes with a price. Social media is driven by algorithms that feed us the content we want to see, so when we interact with political content that we agree with, we will continue to see variations of those same political views. Social media acts as an echo chamber, in the sense that it just offers us information that we already agree with, so it reaffirms our existing beliefs without allowing us to challenge our opinions by viewing perspectives we don’t agree with. In early high school, I fell into the trap of the echo chamber.

Like many other members of my generation, I was very politically active on social media. I was open with my views, interacted with content that supported my beliefs, and often reposted stories and posts that reaffirmed my stances on certain matters. My social media algorithms showed me information that I already believed in, creating an information vacuum that didn’t challenge my perspectives. Starting with my sophomore year, participation in debate and then speech required me to examine both sides of an argument and pulled me out of the social media information vacuum.

I only joined the debate team because I had decided not to go out for the volleyball team and I needed to find a new fall activity. I learned quickly that I may be 5’10”, but I’m much better at standing in front of a crowd and talking than I was at hitting a ball. At my first practice, I was introduced to switch-side classic debate. My first debate topic was to determine whether or not U.S. Supreme Court justices should have term limits. I would be required to debate both the affirmative and the negative sides of the topic at every tournament. Researching information and then turning around and figuring out how to refute it was a new experience for me, but it taught me about media literacy and critical judgment.

After my second season of debate, I decided to join the speech team to keep my debate skills sharp, and I chose to participate in extemporaneous speaking. This meant that I would draw a current events topic and have thirty minutes to write a seven-minute persuasive speech on that topic. This event not only sharpened my argumentative skills for debate, but it also improved my abilities to synthesize important information, inquire about media messages and sources, and research efficiently and reliably. It also forced me to give speeches on perspectives I didn’t necessarily agree with, but it helped to broaden my political views and see issues from the other side of the aisle.

Having just finished my first quarter of my freshman year of college, I have come to realize how valuable it is to retain the skills that speech and debate have taught me. I have challenged my own views multiple times in a political science class, utilized different news outlets in Spanish, and even participated in a class debate about environmental change and human health. These experiences have underscored the importance of critical thinking and adaptability- skills that were honed through speech and debate and are essential to my own personal and academic growth.

Looking back on my early high school years, social media polarized my views and limited my thinking. Nonetheless, speech and debate have given me a community that encouraged me to enhance my critical thinking to better see the views of others and understand other perspectives with an open mind.

In future years, I plan to work in a job that has to do with economics, finance, or policy. In all of these fields, critical thinking and media literacy are vital, as they will enable me to assess complex data and evaluate diverse sources of information. Speech and debate have been critically important in my self-development because they foster open-mindedness and open me to a broader range of perspectives, leading to more effective solutions that reflect real-world complexities.

I was a shy and anxious 5-year-old when, one day, my kindergarten teacher unexpectedly announced me as the month’s “Star Student”. Now, I was no dummy in kindergarten, and I certainly knew that this was a big honor; however, I did not want to be the Star Student because part of the “prize” that came with being the Star Student was being recognized at the weekly school assembly in front of the entire school. Panic set in immediately, and I went home crying to my mother that I absolutely could not stand on a stage in front of the school.

From a shy and anxious kindergartener…



Despite the fact I was terrified of being on stage, I have always loved theater. My mom started taking me to theater productions when I was young, and we continue to be regular attendees at community theater events in our town. Because of this interest, I joined my high school’s theater department. I had no interest in being on stage, but I was excited to be backstage, making the magic happen. During high school, I volunteered on the stage crew for numerous theater productions, and I enjoyed it immensely. Working backstage; however, did not inspire me to actually get on stage in front of an audience.

By the time I made it to my senior year, I knew I needed to address my stage fright. To do so, I enrolled in a theater class. Taking this class was scary, but I knew it would help me find more security in public speaking. I successfully completed my theater class in December of my

senior year, earning an A and learning about facing fears, being willing to grow, and having the courage to recognize when growth is necessary. Although I do not envision myself auditioning for the upcoming college musical, I do know that I am more comfortable speaking in front of others, and I have no doubt this will be helpful in my college career and beyond.

In August, I started my Freshman year at Colorado State University, Pueblo. I am majoring in Biomedical Sciences (Pre-Veterinary) with triple minors in Chemistry, Leadership Studies, and Honor Studies. Although we have not received our first semester GPAs, I currently have a GPA of 3.9 heading into final exams. I am confident I will finish the semester with a 4.0 GPA, and I am proud of the academic success I have achieved in my Freshman year. I know part of my success is due to the confidence I gained in theater both on stage and behind the scenes.



To a confident public speaker...

Thank you for your consideration!

In early December of 2023, my father was diagnosed with liver cancer, which is not only rare but often hard to get rid of. I kept it to myself and a few of my closest friends, and it was the hardest point of my life. However, co-directing my senior play helped me wade through the rough and realize I had people around me to support me.

New Prairie has an ongoing tradition of seniors directing the spring play. The two seniors had been chosen earlier in the year- my friend Kennady and I. We were so nervous, but we had been in theater together for years so we were confident and excited with our show choice. She was one of the few people I told about my father since I thought I might have to leave early or take a break some days to tend to him. I was always worried about him, but when it was time to go on stage, my mind faded from the depressing reality to a new world I could escape to with tons of entertaining people. Once we cast the show, we were both ready to commit our all to making the show as amazing as possible.

As January and February ended, my father got thinner and more pessimistic. I regret it now, but I avoided being with him when eating dinner and I didn’t want to bring him shopping because being with him would break me. I would avoid crying the whole time. One day I remember taking him to get his blood drawn. He could barely get in and out of my car, and I had to do something I never thought I would have to do at only 17 years old- I helped my father into a wheelchair and pushed him around. At that moment, my spirits were beginning to crush. Later that week through a series of irritating emails I attempted to get a refund on a trip I was planning to take over the summer. I found out from a forwarded email from my mother that not only was my father getting worse, but he had been stage 4 since December.

My days got longer and longer with theater rehearsals going later and later, but it wasn't a burden at all. I was so passionate about this play that I had even arranged music for a pit band and coordinated it all myself to add extra drama to the show. Everybody was getting along and constantly giving it their all, and I never wanted the show to end. Every full run-through just got better. As we got closer and closer to tech week, small jokes were added to the script and the set came together. However, with my father’s declining health, I let a few more of my friends know. They would talk to me one-on-one to check on me, as well as occasionally bring me small gifts to lift my mood. This only made me want to stay at rehearsal even more. However, this uplifted mood wouldn't last long. The day before opening night, my father went to the hospital, which was not uncommon, as he had gone several times before. The problem this time was that my mom called me, sobbing. She told me that my dad’s blood pressure dropped randomly. She said I could stay there, but to come to the hospital after rehearsal. I was worried about my pit band since I was directing them. I didn't want to leave them alone. I didn't want to leave my safe space in the auditorium. But then my mom called again, sobbing once more, saying that my dad was being intubated and put under for it, and she didn't know when he would be out. She handed him the phone, and I couldn't understand him, but I told him I loved him several times while holding back my tears. I grabbed my things haphazardly and rushed out, texting Kennady on the way to the hospital. I didn’t know that was the last time I’d talk to him.

Three days before he died it was opening night. I spent the morning at the hospital and talked to my aunt and uncle, and my uncle told me a story that will always stick with me. He bought tickets to see Billy Joel live but heard on the news that Joel’s mother had died the night before. He worried the show would not continue, but to everyone’s surprise, Billy Joel was on stage that night. In his words, his mother would’ve wanted him to continue his tour and he dedicated the show to her. My uncle told me that “the show must go on.” I didn't want to leave but everyone told me that my dad was so proud of me for directing and showing so much passion in this project. He would brag about me when I wasn't there, and would ask my mom when I was at theater practice. They all told me he would want me to make sure the show went on. So, hesitantly, I went to the high school and made sure the show went on. I spent my last few minutes with my dad that night alone and I begged him to just wait for me. Wait for the show to be over so I can be there with him when he goes. After that, every show we performed was in my mind dedicated to my father.

The day before he died we closed the show. The last show is always the best, and I had never been more proud of something in my life. After tearfully tearing down the set and cleaning up, we went into the theater teacher’s classroom for our cast party. We have a tradition of having everybody sign posters with the senior’s names on them, and the director gives a speech for all of them. Kennedy and I went through all of the posters, crying every five minutes for different people. After finishing, the teacher insisted that we flip from the cast to the directors, and the number of people who raised their hands to express their gratitude for me floored me. The amazing words everybody told me made me feel like I was at home with a loving, close family. I sat and wept at the kind words that everyone was telling me, while less than half of them knew how much it meant that their words were so sweet at such a difficult point. Even if my dad was dying, I knew I had a family outside of my home to support me, and I have never been more grateful.

With the play finally closed out, the first place I went was back to the hospital. I told my dad all about the show, and even if he couldn’t hear me, it gave me peace of mind to think he could and he was proud. Deep down, I know he knew. My uncle was right- the show must go on. My father died that night on April 21, 2024. He loved how passionate I was about theater, and I know he will be smiling down on me for every show I perform from now on. The small mural my mother set up for my father’s urn in our house. The full cast photo from the play. Kennedy and I are the first two from the left of the bottom row. The seniors from the show, most of which were my best friends who helped me through.

Growing up, I did not have full use of my legs. I was born with a connective tissue disorder affecting my lower extremities. As a result, I could not fully straighten my legs or point my toes, and my right leg was developing slower than my left. Lacking any structural integrity, my kneecaps would sporadically and painfully dislocate throughout the day, often sending me crashing to the floor.

Thankfully, a corrective surgery existed, but it carried significant risks. It would take threeyears, four surgeries, and months of physical therapy, but in the end, all four operations weresuccessful.

One night, lying in my hospital bed, I realized something. I was lucky. Although I’ll always have challenges, my disability has dramatically improved. Many of the kids I met at the children's hospital were not as fortunate. Their determination against unbeatable odds empowered me to pay it forward. So, I joined The Seeing Eye program and became a guide dog raiser.

The Seeing Eye is a philanthropic organization that breeds and trains guide dogs for the blind. Dog raisers volunteer to foster a puppy for 18 months teaching skills, handler commands, and daily routines specific to guide dogs. As president of my TSE chapter, I organized numerous events throughout the state sharing information about our program while promoting blind awareness.

My journey made me a stronger person and I soon found myself speaking up when others wouldn’t. Once fully recovered, I was voted varsity cheerleading captain and wanted to assure my teammates they were in a safe and trustworthy environment. It is very easy for the more athletic girls to rundown those with a lower skill set or, worse yet, body type.

To prevent this, I reminded everyone that trust is essential because we constantly put our lives in each other’s hands with every stunt we perform. Strong bonds and trust are not achieved by making others feel inferior. Instead, I found that celebrating one’s accomplishments pushed each squad member to do their best. If you nurture a flame it adds light benefiting everyone who surrounds it. Extinguish a flame and it darkens the experience for all. I say, let there be light!

Being a leader begins with listening to people with different life circumstances than your own. Whether in school, on the sports field, in a community organization, or on the world stage, understanding and valuing another person’s circumstances in life creates a path to inclusivity, acceptance, and equality.

Volunteering to be a voice for the blind community has set me on a path to law school. I have decided to become a disability attorney and spend my career advocating for the most vulnerable among us. The feeling of being discriminated against because of my disability still burns within me and fuels my passion for sweeping change across the globe. With advancements in artificial intelligence expanding at an exponential rate, we now stand at the precipice of breaking down physical barriers that have existed for millennia. And I intend to lead the way!

My name is Nayeli Urias and I am a Senior at Roosevelt High School. I am involved in Volleyball, Golf, Student Council, Fellowship of Christian Athletes, Interact Club, and National Honor Society, all while maintaining a 4.2 GPA. I have been involved with these various clubs and activities for the majority of my high school career. I believe by participating in these clubs and activities I am able to contribute to my school community which then carries over to the communities of Johnstown and Milliken.

This year, I am a team captain on the varsity volleyball team. I was selected by my teammates and coaches. With the support and assistance from my coaches, I am able to be a leader for my other team members by staying positive and working hard to build a team that truly works together and encourages each other. These qualities are valued by coaches, teammates, and future employers.

I am also Student Body Vice President. This is one of my favorite extracurricular activities I partake in because I am not only leading the school but I am also showing younger generations of students how to contribute to the community. I strive to be the representation of a dependable and trustworthy leader. I take so much pride in being someone that underclassmen can look up to. The Student Council reaches out to so many students and teaches new members how to grow and be a leader in not only the school but also in the community. Stuco also teaches so many important skills such as how to organize and carry out a plan, communication skills, and how to serve the people around you.

I love that I am able to juggle multiple responsibilities and tasks at one time. If I wasn’t able to, I would be so much less involved within my school. My mentality that I can always be doing more to make the world a better place really separates me from my other classmates. I am constantly striving to better myself while also bettering younger generations. All in all, these extracurricular activities have shaped me into the person I am today, and I am so grateful for that.

Participation in acting has been instrumental in shaping my resilience, leadership skills, and preparation for future success. As a passionate participant in theatrical activities, I have experienced firsthand how this art form transcends mere entertainment, serving as a powerful tool for personal development and growth. It helps form friendships and bonds beyond the stage and into powerful and meaningful relationships and friendships.

When I began my time in high school the world was interrupted by the COVID pandemic. This posed a challenge in making friends and meeting people in the traditional way. When we returned to in person schooling, many students were left to seek out their place in the larger community, myself included. I had participated in theater in middle school, but more out of curiosity than a true desire or love of the art. However, high school provided an opportunity to participate on a larger stage and with committed individuals. This changed so much in my life and place in high school.

During challenging periods of my life, acting has provided a refuge—a creative outlet where I could channel my emotions and thoughts into portraying diverse characters and exploring their stories. Whether facing academic pressures, personal setbacks, or uncertainties about the future, the process of stepping into different roles allowed me to temporarily escape my own challenges while gaining perspective. This immersion in storytelling nurtured my empathy and emotional intelligence, teaching me to understand and empathize with different perspectives and experiences, both on and off stage.



Moreover, acting has been a crucible for building leadership skills. Within theatrical productions, roles such as lead actor, stage manager, or director require decisiveness, organization, and the ability to inspire and coordinate a team. I have learned to take initiative, collaborate effectively, and assume responsibility for the success of a production. Whether guiding fellow actors through rehearsals, coordinating technical aspects with crew members, or ensuring the cohesion of the performance, these experiences have honed my leadership abilities in dynamic and high-pressure environments.

Looking ahead to future success, the skills cultivated through acting are invaluable. The discipline and dedication required to memorize lines, perfect gestures, and embody characters translate directly into perseverance and commitment in academic and professional pursuits. The confidence gained from performing in front of an audience equips me with strong communication skills and the ability to articulate ideas persuasively—an essential asset in any career path. Moreover, the adaptability and creativity fostered by acting prepare me to navigate challenges, think critically, and innovate solutions in an ever-changing world.

During my senior year I was able to be the school mascot, Gary the Grizzly. This opportunity was formed due to my time in the theater. I used acting, dancing and other skills that I had previously learned to transition to the role of mascot. Being the mascot taught me school spirit, community involvement and connection to sports and other activities that I had not previously been involved with. This experience taught me so much about commitment and teamwork and I have been working with Pepperdine to possibly participate as their mascot when I get to campus in the fall.



In conclusion, acting has been more than a hobby or extracurricular activity; it has been a transformative journey of personal growth and preparation for the future. Through acting, I have learned resilience in adversity, developed leadership skills through collaborative efforts, and fortified myself with the confidence and creativity necessary for success. As I continue to pursue my aspirations, I carry with me the invaluable lessons and experiences from the stage, knowing that they have not only shaped who I am today but also equipped me with the tools to thrive in whatever challenges lie ahead.

Wam! Slam! Wack! The sounds of the debate classroom mimic that of a cartoon fight scene– you’d think “nerds” and “geeks” would be a little less aggressive. The anime characters on the wall make eye contact with the door covered in Taylor Swift photos. The range between those two things very well serves as a metaphor for the kinds of people you can find in room 101.

In the eighth grade, I approached my world history teacher and asked him to be the official debate club advisor. Unfortunately for me, my junior high was the lowest funded in the district; we had no money for the club and my peers’ lives were surrounded by minimum-wage jobs and drugs early on. We didn’t have the privilege to debate.

My first three years of life were spent in the mountains of Idaho on a converted school bus, surrounded by trees, wildlife, and people living off of nothing. In poverty, there is a pattern of not understanding what you are lacking because you don’t know it exists. “Ignorance is bliss.” At age four, however, the mountains caught fire. We packed our tiny life up and headed down to the city. Unpacking our few belongings into our tiny pink home, it seemed as though the fire in the same way it smothered the forest, growing and growing, was spreading throughout my life. It kept burning.

Life in the city was a stark contrast to the mountains, the haze of reality had set my parents in two different directions and my dad set out. Growing up in a single-parent household changed things. Our pink house turned into a small apartment with a mattress on the floor— it seemed as though once again I was left with nothing. The fire caught up and we became homeless. That's when I began eighth grade- when I tried to start my debate club.

When I entered High School I was ecstatic for my debate class. With the same name as an introductory college class, 101 stood in front of me as a sign of hope. Looking around the room I questioned my choices, the posters stared and so did Taylor’s blonde bob, yet week by week the strangers became more familiar. That year I faced extreme bullying and my home life was still unstable. When I was most alone, debate stood there for support. When I couldn’t afford tournaments, the funding would always emerge from my community. Somehow it seemed the fear inspired me: I went to Nationals, was placed 14th in the state of Idaho, and was a semi-finalist at State Speech amongst other things. The fire has stuck around, from more parent breakdowns to car crashes, yet, I somehow made it through. Debate has taught me that if I use some cost-benefit analysis and consider some impact calculus, my life is much less of a fire than I imagine.

I was born in north Tulsa, Oklahoma in a bathtub to a drug addicted prostitute who had no clue she had given birth. My birth father was in jail at the time of my birth for narcotics possession/distribution and armed robbery. Someone, somehow had the brilliant idea to call 911. I was taken by EMS immediately to a local hospital where I was admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for drug detoxification. My first pivot point in my personal odyssey was at 2 1/2 weeks into my life challenge, Department of Human Services (DHS) notified a woman, a woman who had adopted 4 children prior, if she would have an interest in adopting me…she immediately agreed to take me home. That woman was Susan Andrews Hill. I was taken from zip code 74106 (a death sentence) to zip code 74055 (a chance to thrive). The statistics of my birth zip code are one of poverty, uneducated individuals, unemployment rate 13.6% and average yearly income of $19,565. My birth zip code was my starting point but it would not be my destination point. My adoptive mother was determined that I would not become a 74106 statistic.

My life story is one of redemption. My birth, the struggle with narcotics while in the NICU, my adoptive mother’s battle to maintain legal rights as mother, my work in the classroom, especially during the COVID years and the repeated injuries experienced in gymnastics. For almost a decade, I've dedicated myself to competitive gymnastics. I've faced significant challenges—breaking several bones on various parts of my body. I am 17 years old, African American, and a registered member of the Seminole Nation from Oklahoma. I am greatly honored to present myself as An applicant for this scholarship. My fundamental principles are integrity, service for others, and academic and athletic excellence. My life story serves as a prime example of the significance of these principles. I am committed to these values throughout the course of my academic and professional pursuits.

My story is one of sheer grit, determination, discipline and tenacity. I have experienced the trials and tribulations of discrimination. I will speak the testimonial that you can be born in a bathtub to a drug addicted birth mother, live through myriad struggles, be a woman of color, and still have the opportunity, in this country, in this America, to achieve greatness! I have experienced immense pleasure in mentoring special needs children beginning in 8th grade at my school. It started me on a path which I have been able to make a positive impact. I also volunteer every year in the Summer Special Olympics. I find great joy in seeing the success of these athletes. My desire to help others makes me acknowledge my responsibility to guide and assist those who require my help. In addition to participating in the Owasso High School student mentor program, I am also a member of the student council, the yearbook staff and Spanish club. My involvement with study council has provided me with many opportunities to volunteer at with great organizations such as Make a Wish Foundation and various school functions. My studies of interest include physics, biology, and mathematics.

My commitment to physical excellence is a defining aspect of my character. At the age of five, I began competitive gymnastics which took up a substantial part of my life. Hours have been invested in demanding training and competitions. My weekly commitment to my sport is 20 hours. My dedication to the sport has resulted in achieving the highest level of competition - Elite level and National Champion in 2022. My commitment to my sport and the discipline required to excel has given me a strong work ethic and a sense of determination that can serve as a valuable asset in the future. My dedication that I have demonstrated toward physical fitness and teamwork will serve as valuable assets to the years of dedication I will need to complete my doctoral degree.

My Native American ancestry, particularly my Seminole tribe heritage, brings me immense pride and a deep sense of connection to my rich cultural history. The complexity and its history have been instilled in me since childhood by my family, who emphasized the importance of preserving and respecting our heritage. I believe that attending the University of Oklahoma would allow me to represent my tribe on a larger stage and share my unique perspective with the university’s community. My Seminole heritage along with my African American heritage would make me an invaluable asset to the university’s diverse community. I am the American Story. As I reflect on my life, I have a profound sense of thankfulness and duty to assist others. I want to inspire others to overcome their circumstances, just as I was given the opportunity to do myself.

I am honored to say that I am an Eagle Scout. Also, I have always attended Catholic school, and I intend to attend a Catholic college. My high school is a LaSallian/Catholic school and we have learned the importance of helping others through service. For the past three summers, I have volunteered as a counselor at a program at my school, Christian Brothers Academy. The program is called Bridge to Brothers, and it is a STEM program for underprivileged fifth and six graders from city schools. It meant a lot me to be able to help the younger students.

I have had many adversities in my life. My older brother died from an asthma attack when I was in eighth grade. I have also had a lot of my aunts and uncles pass away at young ages in the past few year, as young as age 49. Losing aunts and uncles and my brother makes me worry about losing my mother and father. Two years ago on February 21, 2022, my parents took me and four of my friends skiing. That day I watched my best friend, Christian, die from a terrible fall. This was a really terrible day for everyone, especially my friend’s family. I experienced a lot of anxiety after the accident, especially worrying about my parents. I also missed my friend greatly. I regularly talked to Brother Joe at my school, to help me try to understand how to deal with loss and fear of loss.

I have been an altar server at my church and have been participating in scouting for many years. After my friend died, I focused on planning my Eagle Scout project, which took a lot of time, attention and focus. I decided to take on a project to benefit the Rome Humane Society. The designed four benches and waste stations to be used on the walking path behind the building, and solicited donations from local businesses toward the cost of the project. We built the benches and waste stations, and we replaced the old flag pole. I put a plaque on one of the benches, dedicating my project to the memory of my best friend. On the one year anniversary of the ski accident, I had my Board of Review and I reached the rank of Eagle Scout. I know my friend was with me that day.

Through scouting, I regularly volunteer in many ways. After my brother died, I started a project making hundreds of sandwiches for the local shelter. No matter how busy I have been with school and club sports and other activities, I have always made time to helping others, as I know the importance of service to others. I know how fortunate I am, and how much my parents sacrificed over the years for me to be able to attend a private Catholic school.

Through scouting I have had several leadership positions. My Eagle Scout project taught to me to plan, execute and lead a large project. Since becoming an Eagle Scout, I attend meetings and teach the younger scouts.

I know that life can be hard and loss can be extremely hard to accept. A few days ago, on the two year anniversary of my friend’s accident, I had to testify at a deposition regarding the accident. I have developed skills to help me continue on, and not be consumed with sadness and fear. My work through my church, and my volunteering through scouts and through my school have helped me mature and learn coping skills. Also, focusing on my Eagle Scout project taught me leadership skills and coping skills.

Others have congratulated me on being an Eagle Scout. In actuality I feel honored that I reached this rank. I am grateful to my parents for helping me to understand the importance of scouting and a Catholic education in developing me as a good, strong, moral person.

I want to attend Saint Joseph’s University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The cost of the school is about $30,000.00 per year more than my parents can afford. Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship. Below are pictures of my project and of my best friend Christian

At age six I was forced to “grow up.” While sitting on the carpet of multicolored squares in my 1st grade classroom, nervously unravelling the stitching of the rug, and trying to recall the letters of the alphabet, my peers were shouting out the letters in order and reciting the rhymes that marked the end of the school day. Instead of joining them, I worried whether my mom would show up to pick me up from school. Would I have to venture over to the neighbor’s house for dinner? A student assistant appeared at the classroom door holding a dreaded pink summons slip. It read “NOW.” The slip was for me. As I walked down the dreary florescent-lit hallway my stomach was in knots, my face flushed. I had a gut feeling my mother was on her way to jail.

When I was older, I learned my mother had been in jail four times and was once charged with a drug felony of possession of cocaine. That day in the principal’s office, I could not imagine my future; I had no idea my mother’s journey from incarceration to rehabilitation would set me on a path to my future career in the legal field.

When I arrived at the principal’s office, I was asked a series of questions about my mother’s drug usage. I was overwhelmed with emotions. I was confused and humiliated. I recalled the numerous times I had waited on playground for her to pick me up after school, the times she was asleep at four in the afternoon, and the times I went to the neighbor’s because my mom forgot to make dinner. I was told by the school resource officer that my mother was going to jail, and I would be living with my grandparents. These words made me dizzy. However, instead of letting this moment define my mother, myself, or my future, I did something different.

I spent five years in elementary school living with my grandparents. I attribute the fiery passion for learning I possess today to this experience. I filled my free time reading books, learning the multiplication tables, and writing short stories. In just a short year, I evolved from struggling to keep up with my schoolwork and assignments to receiving an invitation to the gifted and talented program, and placement in double advanced courses.

I was a curious child, but my curiosity was far from traditional. While my peers were excited about the magical spirit of the holiday season, I felt ecstatic to leave school early one snowy afternoon to visit my mom in her rehabilitation facility. I vividly remember the humiliation when I was sitting at the lunchroom table in elementary school when one of my friends told the whole table I was leaving early to visit my mom who was a “drug addict.”

One of the many obstacles I overcame was explaining my unusual childhood to my peers and teachers. I can still picture the wide-eyed, raised-eyebrow look of confusion and shock that overcame the face of my first-grade best friend when I told her why I lived with my grandparents. Despite these challenges, I would later discover that my mother’s experience as a recovering drug addict propelled my interest in the law and criminal justice reform.

It was not until I was a freshman in high school sitting in the El Paso County Courthouse as a Teen Court volunteer when I discovered my passion for the law. Having first read the police report of the case of one defendant, my mind resorted to forming stereotypes. Before meeting the defendant, I envisioned a disobedient and defiant teenager. Instead, a small, innocent young boy walked through the door. I quickly realized the impact of our stereotypes and biases. I could only imagine the stereotypes that my mother endured. In the five years that followed, I worked with many defendants to implement restorative justice principles and to expunge charges from their records.

However, this is not always an option for someone convicted of a felony. Many people convicted of drug felonies endure agonizing effects years later. They may be unable to vote, volunteer, secure a financially stable career. Worst of all, they can lose their children. With a law school education, I will be well equipped with the tools to defend those who are marginalized and placed into subservience by the criminal justice system.

Today, my mother has been sober for ten years and is an important mentor to me. Despite being a single mother, her resilience has inspired me, her mistakes have taught me many lessons, and best of all, her experience has shaped who I am today and my future career as an attorney. Through my legal studies, I will call into question the actions of authority figures, ensure no child must unjustly visit their mother in rehab during the holidays, and reform the criminal justice system that has fought to oppress and marginalize those who need support. This scholarship will ensure that I am able to pursue my dream of becoming a lawyer without having to take out excessive loans.

I was born into a family where I was the youngest of 11 children. When I was a month old, we were evicted from our home and thrust into homelessness. We ended up living out in the country, in a free 3-bedroom mobile home that did not have water or electricity, for 8 months. My older siblings did not welcome me, and they bullied and abused me mercilessly. I tried to be a happy child, but it was difficult. I have ADHD and am severely dyslexic, and I became very overweight and depressed, which did not help. Our poverty forced us to move frequently, and as a result, when I moved away from home at age 15 I didn’t have a lot of connections or people that I could turn to.

Then, I discovered theater. Suddenly, I had a place where I could go and speak honestly about my life. The roles gave me an outlet for my emotions, and a wonderful teacher gave me a place to cry. When I had a breakdown or needed comfort, my teacher was available and made me feel like she cared about my situation and my life. Getting in front of the audience helped me to overcome my fear of public speaking.

During this same time period, I enrolled in scouts. I was embraced by a group of people who were very accepting, and by leaders who genuinely took an interest in me. I was a part of a group that cared about me and my leaders were amazing. They helped me feel wanted involved and confident.

I decided to take a chance and became involved with the debate club. I was a pushover because of being bullied so much, and I was tired of my terrible self-image and lack of self-worth. After a short while, I was elected president of the debate club. The Debate Club helped me realize that if I put in effort, I could fight back, and could do things that were important to me.

Once I started to believe in myself, I started trying out for leadership positions. I was elected President of the Theater Team and held political ASB presidential positions in high school. My theater roles continued to help me to feel more assertive and gain self-respect and worth. All those years of being pushed around and quieted, helped me value those who did not have a voice or the ability to assert themselves, and I was able to see them as important. Once I saw my self-worth, I was able to help others.

These experiences taught me lessons that will help me in the future because of the empathy and understanding I have gained from them. I have learned that it is worth putting in the effort. This is why I have chosen to go into the field of Psychology, because I hope to pass on the lessons that I have learned to others who may need to hear them. There is always a solution that can be obtained if you refuse to fail. Starting at the bottom really can be an advantage, because you see that there is nowhere to go but up.

This was taken with my best friend in scouts (I'm the timid one on the right)	This is me with my Theatre friends (I'm in the middle)

My name is Ka'Mya Brower and I am a freshman honors political science major with an undecided minor from Newark, New Jersey, attending Howard University. For as long as I can remember I felt a looming pressure to be “the example”. As the oldest sibling of four, I constantly felt that I had to be ‘the good kid”. I had to be the one who set an example for my younger siblings. I had to be “the responsible one.”

Beginning in middle school I had to take care of my siblings. A normal morning for me meant that after my mother left for work, I made sure that each of my three siblings made it out of the house and to their three respective schools. I would then catch the bus to my school across town ensuring I was never late. My family responsibilities did not end there. I took care of my siblings in the evenings and on weekends while maintaining a part-time job at my local grocery store.

In highschool, the pressure continued. I am a straight-A student who always does the right thing. Like my mother, I realized that my teachers had high expectations for me. I still had to be the “example” for my peers. I was expected to model what being a leader and a good student meant.

If I am honest, there were times that I resented the responsibility. I resented the freedom my friends and siblings got to experience. The grace they received when they made mistakes. For a long time, I felt frustrated because I wanted to go outside and play with other kids or go on school field trips with my friends instead of being responsible for my siblings. And there were times It felt as if I was drowning. The pressure felt unbearable. So much of who I was, was built around what everyone expected of me, but I still felt unseen.

During my freshman year of high school, I was introduced to what would become my outlet. I took my first acting class. I learned to express my emotions and release all of the pressure. I could pour my feelings into the characters that I portrayed. Soon after, I began pouring my heart into dance. Performing allowed me to be myself in front of the world and to be seen for just that. It taught me to push through the pain. I also learned to be okay with being the example.

Over the years I learned another way to express myself. This expression was creative writing. It gave me the courage to write what I was afraid to say out loud. I was able to unpack and communicate my feelings. Everyone has their unique form of language to communicate; acting, dancing, and writing are mine.

I carried those lessons with me throughout high school, and it has led to me being an academic leader at my school and graduating with a weighted GPA of 4.15. I push myself to be an example for my peers of what it means to reach for excellence. While in high school I still had my part-time job at the local grocery store; I was a part of The Pantherettes, our school dance team; and I still volunteer to do community service at my local community center.

Last year my siblings and I lost our father. It was at that moment I realized the power of being an example for my siblings. For my siblings, I modeled resilience, no matter how heavy the pressure felt or how deep the pain was. I pushed myself to stay on top of my grades and refused to take a step back from my dreams.

As I continue to embrace what it means to be an “example”, I hope to use my college experience to model for my siblings and all the little girls from my neighborhood what excellence looks like as a first-generation college student. I hope to inspire them to follow their dreams and to be an example.

It is why in the future I see myself as a hardworking criminal defense lawyer. After being a lawyer for a few years my next step is Madam Supreme Court Justice. I will use my ambitiousness to push myself to continue to work hard and be persistent in what I want. I'm determined to change the higher education landscape and prove why I deserve recognition and others because we are the ones who are going to change the world.

When I was in middle school I took a trip to the movie theaters to watch the new movie that came out "Marshall", about Thurgood Marshall an African-American civil rights activist lawyer. It was then I wanted to be a lawyer. Marshall became my idol and with that began my research for law majors and more. My research led me to political science and psychology and I fell in love with them.

I wanted to be just like Marshall in a way. He inspired me to want more in life and to want to help others like me. Majoring in political science will help me study and understand power. Power governs everything around us; society, relationships, etc. There is no “in the future”. It's like saying a dollar tomorrow is worth more than a dollar today… it's not. The dollar today is worth more because I invested in it, years later it will be worth more than a dollar. There is no in the future because I’m already there. And with this in mind, I will achieve Excellence.

I, similar to many others, grew up with an absent father. He missed almost every moment in my life that meant something special to me. He missed my middle school graduation. He missed every single competition I had. He failed to be present at any parent-teacher conferences. Most especially, his presence in our home was a rare occurrence. My mother, on the other hand, struggled to drive on highways. This meant that I was unable to go to school events or friends’ houses. I felt helpless and unable to make any meaningful connections with kids my age.

My father’s lack of attendance, however, was not the way most would typically imagine. My “Baba”--an Urdu word of endearment for father–was not intentionally missing these milestones in my life. This was something freshman me could not accept. Baba was not missing because he did not want to be there, but because he was busy making a living. In my mind, he could get off of work and come attend every event I wanted him there for. However, he was making the money that bought me the things my heart wished for. An objective he undertook after he struggled to make a living throughout his adult life. While he used to be an attorney in Pakistan, he quit once he realized the corruption it encompassed.

As I grappled with this understanding, I joined my highschool’s Mock Trial team seeking a connection. My intention was to get better with expressing myself whilst making friends. On the way to our first trial, I was extremely nervous. However, these friends that I realized I had made helped me dissolve my anxiety by playing games.

I was not expecting to feel the exhilaration as I stood before a witness and questioned them. Nor did I expect the adrenaline rush when the Judge announced that we had won. In our post-trial meeting, my coach told me that the other team’s coach thought I was a natural. Again, I felt disappointment that my parents were unable to watch me do something I had begun to love.

I went on to intern for our attorney coach at her law firm the summer before senior year. By that point, I knew my dream was to be an attorney. I had decided I wanted to attend George Washington University as I would one day want to practice in DC. When I got my acceptance letter, the first person I shared my dream with was my Baba. When I saw him tear up, I understood. I finally understood that this was why he couldn’t be there. Without a moment’s hesitation, he had accepted my dream.

I am grateful for my team, who helped me realize the joy of leading and doing something I love. But most of all, I am so grateful and fortunate to have the family that I have. The parents who left everything they knew to allow me and my siblings a better life. Should my dream be accomplished, I have every intention of ensuring that my parents never need anything again. Below is an image of my parents and I at my graduation.

Looking back at my many years performing on stage in musical theatre productions, I’ve had the unique privilege to significantly build my leadership skills with my involvement in an annual benefit concert titled “Raise Your Voice”. The concept started 5 years ago when my group of 10 close theater friends came together to raise money for local kids in need by doing what we loved most: performing on stage. Over the years, “Raise Your Voice” has raised over $65,000 for various local youth charities, and it has grown into an annual extravaganza with a full weekend of performances and a waitlist of young performers who want to be involved. For the 5th year in 2022, I was honored to be chosen by my peers to lead them in the biggest event yet. I served as the director, choreographer, musical director, producer, music editor, costumer, and marketing manager. I am exceedingly proud that we raised $18,000 for the Covenant House of New Orleans, a local charity that serves young teenagers experiencing homelessness or human trafficking.

As a multifaceted leader, I recognized the importance of fostering a motivated environment within the team. To achieve this atmosphere, I set reasonable goals for my team, organized regular meetings where team members could openly share ideas and concerns, expressed my appreciation through handwritten thank-you letters, and provided the team with insight into the charity and the profound impact of their dedicated work. Recognizing the value of each person's expertise, I encouraged creative freedom while emphasizing our shared goal of creating a memorable event for a meaningful cause. I even got to work hand in hand with the charity’s director to choose keynote speakers, lead a tour of the facilities for the cast and crew members, and promote the event. This event taught me the true value of effectively working with others to create positive change that extends beyond personal achievements.

The impact of this experience on my leadership style was remarkable. As a performer, I have always found joy in the personal fulfillment of entertaining others. However, "Raise Your Voice" transformed my perspective on the positive impact my craft can have on my community. It was not just about personal satisfaction; it was about using my artistic talents to make a positive change in the lives of young teenagers experiencing homelessness or human trafficking. My mindset evolved from personal fulfillment to a realization of the broader social responsibility that comes with my role as a performer and leader. The donation raised for the Covenant House of New Orleans was not just a monetary achievement but a testament to the positive change that can be achieved through collaborative leadership in the arts.

Looking forward, this experience has inspired me to seek leadership opportunities that align with my passion for inclusivity and positive change. I recognize the importance of using my skills and influence to create environments where everyone feels valued and included. Whether through quarterly meetings, as implemented in my high school theater club, or through future projects college, I am committed to fostering inclusivity and making a lasting impact on the culture of any community I am a part of.

Thank you for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship. On the next few pages, please find some photos from the event, and I’ve compiled a short video about my experience with “Raise Your Voice” here: https://youtu.be/WS-BRKYg-iI

I practice Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Brazilian jiu-jitsu is a quickly growing grappling martial art that contains chokes and submissions. It is said to be one of the most functional martial arts for self-defense. My martial arts journey started in the summer of 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic. Initially, I began martial arts training to attain self-defense skills, but I have learned so much more.

I started training in the summer of 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic. At that time, masks were required for everything. Masks make exercise, especially aerobic exercise, more challenging because it restricts a person's ability to breathe air. My first jiu-Jitsu class was very aerobically challenging for me (because I had to wear a mask). I was huffing and puffing like the wolf in the Three Little Pigs story, however, I felt more like one of the pigs because I was the least skilled person in the class. It was a difficult start to my martial arts journey. I was learning an important lesson; perseverance. Learning complicated techniques was hard, training with bigger people was hard, and remaining consistent was hard. At first, everything was hard. It was only with time and practice that things grew easier. I persevered through the hard times to attain basic skills.

However, with increased skill, I picked up a bad mindset. I was becoming arrogant. As I became advanced relative to the beginner classes, I began to think that I had it all down. Then the instructors invited me to start attending the advanced classes. In my arrogance, I thought it was going to be plain and simple, like the beginner classes (spoiler alert: it wasn't). The advanced classes were full of higher belts, all of them with twice the jiu-jitsu knowledge I possessed. I got my butt kicked. The techniques became challenging again, and my training partners were years ahead of me. It was like I started all over again. This is where I learned humility. I humbled myself to where I admitted my ignorance. Once I did this, I enabled myself to fail and then learn. While the advanced classes are still challenging, I'm now able to learn from them without damaging my ego.

Martial arts taught me the virtues of humility and perseverance. Perseverance is essential to any success. In order to attain self-defense knowledge, I had to go through the pains of training in jiu-jitsu. Without the willpower to experience the growing pains of learning, I would never java progressed. Learning perseverance has prepared me for facing the challenges of school, work, and home life. However, without humility, I could never bring myself to persevere. In jiu-jitsu, I learned to recognize my ignorance of complicated techniques and allowed myself to improve on them. Learning humility has allowed me to see my shortcomings and face them head-on with perseverance. While I am unsure of what is to come, I am assured by the virtues of perseverance and humility that I am prepared to face the challenges of the future.

In my Freshman year of high school, I went to school for three months before I decided that life wasn't worth living. Due to the severe depression that I was faced with, I missed six months of school. My grandma came to live with us during this time so there was someone to stay at home with me. By month five, my family had a meeting with the school administration where they threatened to send my mom to jail if she didn't make me go to school. This school was her place of work. I felt like I was destroying the family. To make matters worse, around month four, I found out that my parents were suing each other over custody of me for the second time. I was having panic attacks every night at the thought of going to school the next day. I didn't know what to do. One day, my mom took me to school to have lunch, not to attend any classes. She took me down to the arts department. She introduced me to the drama teacher and the art teacher, who happened to be working together for the end of year musical. I told the principal I'd go to one class a day of my choosing if they didn't reprimand my mom. He agreed. So I tried the drama class for a day. The first acting exercise gave me a panic attack. So then I tried the level four art class for a day. The teacher let me choose my own project, sit in the back of the room and work at my own speed. That's how I finished my freshman year of high school.

Over the summer, I was able to relax. I reevaluated what was actually important to me rather than what everyone was telling me was important. I rediscovered my love for music, singing and dancing. These wonderful things that I'd forgotten because my ‘friends' didn't like them. One day in the car with my mom, she pointed out that I'd watched ‘Newsies the Musical' forty two times during those six months. She asked why. I stuttered through my answer, "It's a group of kids who make a difference. It's a bunch of people who don't care if the world sees them singing and dancing. They love what they do and I want to do that."

She joked, "You could probably perform the whole show by yourself." Musicals had become my source of comfort during those six months. I'd sing to myself and play pretend. It was an escape and a cathartic release. Someone had to be the main character, someone had to save the day, there was always a song with exactly the words you wanted to say and I know that life isn't that way but you can run wild in a world that is. That's how I joined my small town's theater department. Low and behold, the musical for my Sophomore year was none other than Newsies. I was a newsie. My mission for that year was to throw everything I had into the arts department. It was my only lifeline. I ignored the stares and the questions, the rumors about my absence. In some cases, I quite literally hid from them in the drama classroom. I became a member of the Art Club, Photography Club, and eventually, President of the Drama Club. Art saved my life.

My drama teacher urged me into competitions, as did my art teacher. I costumed shows, I built props and set pieces all the while the court case with my parents raged on in the back of my mind. My drama teacher pulled me aside one day to ask how it was going and I broke down in her arms. She pulled me into her office to talk. "I want you to take all of that emotion and write a piece with it." She was asking me to enter the Solo Serious Original category for the High School Drama Competition. I thought she was crazy, I was mad at her for suggesting it. Still, I couldn't help but think she was right. The lawyers get to prepare cases for the lawsuit, wasn't it fair that I prepare something?

I wrote out everything that I wanted to say as if I was talking to the judge. Despite my reservations in the beginning, I performed the piece for my class. Three students cried and one of them left the room. I had no idea that I was right next to people going through similar things. I took the piece all the way to state finals and eventually to the witness stand my junior year. That piece, the one that I'd performed so many times, made the judge cry. After four years of dragging the lawsuit out, it took the judge one hour to decide that I was old enough to make my own decisions. Art gave me a leg to stand on, it gave me a voice and helped me find where I belonged. It showed me that I wasn't alone, I was just in a box.

Though Brooke and I did not qualify for ICDC (nationals) I can proudly say we were finalists in Colorado States Deca Chapter for our INtegrated Marketing Campaign and scored higher than a 90 on our presentation. Though I do know DECA is not specifically a speech club. There is nothing quite like it. Because I can confidently say when I was at my worst this is what brought me back to myself and problem a better version. When you gain conversation, communication, and presentation skills that are able to persuade people into opening up to your ideas it builds a level of confidence and security in oneself and I don't think I had that at any point in my life. And I'm glad I was able to develop those skills because I can take it and use it throughout undergraduate school, Law school , and my future career.

My last year of high school is a year I won't be able to erase from my memory for many reasons. In the beginning of that first semester, I had overdosed. No. I do not have a drug problem or an association with taking any kind of substances not prescribed by my doctor. Which was exactly the citation. During a particularly rough period financially and socially (mainly due to domestic circumstances) my health had gradually worsened. Having daily chronic migraines of no cause does harm itself but when you add stress among other factors migraines can be quite debilitating in everyday life. And so one particular day I physically couldn't get out of bed so I took medicine. I took more. And more. Until I woke up days later in the hospital with absolutely no idea of what was going on (I would larter find out I stopped breathing many times and had to be airlifted to a hospital and then put in the ICU). I was hospitalized for 2 and ½ weeks. I wasn't too focused on the part of actually being in the hospital; it was more the part of missing loads of assignments from my AP classes and having a severe case of FOMO. But those 2 weeks changed me significantly. I stopped replying to messages after day 2 because I could feel myself slip away from reality and away from myself. How could I have done something so stupid? Why did I have to be the one with this unmanageable unsolvable "disability" my doctors liked to call it.

When it was time to return to school I think that was more painful than the IV and blood treatments I received everyday. Friends didn't feel like friends. And my dormant anxiety was clearly plastered on my face as I walked the halls because all the people and noise was too stimulating. I wore big boxy headphones as my shield to push through the hallways. The class I loved but then learned to dread was advanced marketing because Mrs. Valentine always wanted us to get up and talk to each other, to present, and inspire each other. And after my experience in the hospital I had no inspiration for life to give. But no matter how much I used my silence as a voice of aggravation she pushed and pushed. And while I was sure I was going to close my DECA chapter early because of lack of motivation she argued otherwise. And so I found myself partnered with a girl I went to highschool with for 4 years yet never said a word to, Brooke Smith. And we were going to be partners in the Colorado Deca State Integrated Marketing Campaign.

We had to develop a 15 minute pitch and proposal to convince random judges to invest into a business we chose and we had chosen a clinic called Tepeyac in Denver, Colorado whose sole mission was to provide pro bono care for the homeless and low income. I had never in my history of education had to prepare a speech that long to present without no cards or a slideshow. The only helping hand was a board we designed that only displayed powerful imagery to appeal to the judges rhetorical appeals, specifically pathos. So we started Brooke and I practiced every lunch period before our AP Biology class and every single night before bed (because we also learned in psychology the brain can better store information before sleep). And with every practice of speech we found ourselves less and less confident of our pitch. And when the days of our competition approached we stayed up in our hotel room (keeping our third roommate very much awake) continuously practicing our speech because there was no choice but to get it down.

Though Brooke and I did not qualify for ICDC (nationals) I can proudly say we were finalists in Colorado States Deca Chapter for our INtegrated Marketing Campaign and scored higher than a 90 on our presentation. Though I do know DECA is not specifically a speech club. There is nothing quite like it. Because I can confidently say when I was at my worst this is what brought me back to myself and problem a better version. When you gain conversation, communication, and presentation skills that are able to persuade people into opening up to your ideas it builds a level of confidence and security in oneself and I don't think I had that at any point in my life. And I'm glad I was able to develop those skills because I can take it and use it throughout undergraduate school, Law school , and my future career.

How has participation in activities such as scouts, acting, debate, and/or speech helped you get through difficult periods of your life, build leadership skills, or prepared you for success in the future?

I was a quiet child. I was anxious and shy, never wanting to bring too much attention to myself. I was happy to stick to playing with my few friends and escaping into the worlds of my books. That was until fifth grade. I joined an after-school theatre program that was putting on a non-musical version of "Aladdin". The show was nothing special, but it sparked something deep within me. All it took was playing the role of Jafar at ten years old to set me off on the path of the thespian. Through middle school, I only acted in one more show, but I yearned for the stage all the while. When it came time for me to step into the treacherous four-year-long stint of high school, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I switched from my liberal arts charter school to a public high school simply so I could pursue my love for the stage in one of the best drama clubs in the state. At first, it was rough. During my freshman year of high school, I was just like I was as a child: quiet, nervous, and avoiding the eyes of others. Over the next three years, though, I blossomed. I blossomed in every way a person could. Theatre taught me that it was okay to take up space, to be seen. Theatre taught me to want to be seen. I went from a meek girl, curling in on herself at auditions out of fear, to the leading lady of my senior show, playing a Disney princess. Theatre saved me in every way a person can be saved. Even at my lowest points I always knew that I had a second home waiting for me that was free of every pressure the outside world put on me. My time in drama club taught me to know my own worth at a time when I thought I had none. For that alone, I am forever in debt to the stage.

Lying in bed, with freshly divorced parents, homework needing to be done, thinking about all the things I could be doing, and asking myself, "what is the point of all this?" as my motivation hits an all-time low. Seeing everyone around me have drive, a place to go, and a purpose makes me feel useless. However, I realized those people around me with a plan and a place to go were told what they should do and where to go to make the best life for them. They were told what success should look like and they were told just to put their head down and work, and the thought of doing that frightens me. This idea seems like I will be nothing more than a corporate nine-to-five worker, fulfilling my obligations, but not myself. Despite these thoughts, I decided I didn't have to have this kind of future. I could create my own version of success. But I also needed to figure out what that was to me. Fast forward a few weeks, I am out of bed, homework done, and working towards a newly found passion that would quickly become my purpose. But what caused this sudden motivation and fire in me?

The blaze set fire to me when I realized I would be the first person in my family to attend college and be the first person in my family to pursue something that I'm actually passionate about, a career in the film and television industry. As time has passed, it's become more than just something I want to accomplish; it is my life goal. All the things that come along with this "long shot" keep the fire going and a definition for my version of success came to me. For instance, when I told people I wanted to have a career in the film industry, they would say that I was crazy and "It's a one in a million chance." But I would tell them, "I'm going to be that one," this quote creates eagerness to build my career so that I can reach my goals and show people that I am capable of doing it. This created a carving and drive for success that I so desperately needed. I know I can be that "one" because of my determination, and nothing will get in my way. This laser focus proves to me and other people that I can do it, that I can be successful. Yet, proving that I could make a career in the film and television industry was not the biggest reason I wanted to do it.

When I think about acting, I think about telling a story influenced by life, about characters inspired by people, and figuring out how to play those characters, tell the story of their life, and impact someone is why I get so excited about acting. However, I need to learn more about the industry to become that storyteller. I want to learn all aspects of the industry, in front and behind the camera. Butterflies dance in my stomach when I think about learning to act, direct, and produce movies. It gives me a sense of independence and it gives me a feeling that I am so close to being successful. It makes me want to work as hard as possible to create art through film and learn about acting through theater. It makes me want to weave all my other hobbies, interests, and experiences into something to create beautiful stories that move and motivate people. That inspires someone like me to get out of bed, find their passion, and go after it.

Now that I have that motivation to go out there and achieve my goals, I will not stop until I do. That drive and that hustle I have is how I define success and always wanting to go out there to make my dreams come true is what I think it takes to be successful. I am the first in my family to have such high goals and such determination to reach them. My mom went to trade school for hair and my dad delivers for a distributor, so they both went into the workforce after they graduated high school and have been doing what they do for over 20 years. They always tell me about the dreams they had when they were my age and how they never had the opportunity to reach them. To me, this is how unsuccess is defined and I think they just view my goals as dreams, and on repeat I hear "dreams are not real life, you need to have a back up plan, I don't want you to be working at a job that you'll be stuck in." I understand why they worry, and that I do need a back up plan, but I don't want to live in regret and I don't want to be defined as unsuccessful. Being stuck in a job that I hate for 20 years is my worst nightmare. My goals are not just little dreams, and I don't just wait for opportunities to come my way, I create my own. I create my own success and I will do whatever I have to, to get there. My parents never went to college, so they don't understand the amount of work I do by simply applying myself and working as hard as I do so that I can gain that success. Success is something I crave and I need to show them that I can do it. But the pressure that I put on myself is starting to make me anxious, because I know I am on the verge of reaching my goals and being the first person in my family to go to college, be successful and set a standard for my little sister and my future children. I am taking the steps to better my future, and I will continue to chase my "dreams" and gain that success that I crave so much. This is why I know I deserve to win this scholarship, because I have the motivation and the ambition to get to a place of success. It would mean the world to me to win this scholarship, just so I can prove that myself.

My life during high school was unconventional, to say the least; when I signed up for Drama as my elective freshman year, I saw it as an easy A and just a class I knew I'd have with my friends. I look back at those four years I spent in theater and believe if I had taken any other elective I would have dropped out and only have a GED today instead of my diploma. The theater program, and everyone I met along the way, welcomed me from day one with open arms (okay, it was more like jazz hands- but you get the idea), until it was time to go center stage, take a bow, and say goodbye to that part of my life at graduation. The impact theater had on my life, the skills I have learned, and challenges I faced were a major influence on me, and why I never gave up and ultimately obtained my diploma a semester early.

High School can be tough on anyone, it's a major transition from being a child, having a mandatory school schedule, and relying on parents/guardians to live; to then be expected to know how to take care of yourself and begin your life as an ‘adult' while still being restricted or punished by adults. Most students experience those four years as a time to figure out who they are, what they want to do, and what career they want to pursue. I was the average high school girl; I had a few friends, had my crushes, did my homework, and worried about my grades and future just like everyone else. However, when the last bell rang and everyone went back to their lives, I stayed for any afterschool activity knowing I had no idea if I'd have a place to eat or sleep that night. Each day I had to find a way to sleep at a friend's house, on an acquaintance's couch, a truck bed in the school parking lot, or somewhere like a park bench as a last resort. I would stay at school if I could volunteer and help build sets, make costumes, clean the stage, rehearse, etc. If I wasn't running lines or building a set, I would be at Swim and Water Polo practice instead.

The theater became my home, and my classmates were like a supportive family. I was taught valuable skills such as; how to work both alone and with a team, how to communicate with others, how important tone of voice and body language is, how to control and separate personal and professional life, how to project and speak with confidence, how to listen and understand others when they speak, how to read between the lines and interpret people's emotions, how important word choice is and its ability to carry weight, how to follow deadlines and manage time efficiently, and how to take risks and never waste an opportunity by not trying. I grew up without a voice, and a personal life filled with hardships and abuse. When I stepped foot on the stage it would give me a moment of peace; I was able to be whoever I wanted to be without the weight of my life holding me back. The overall lesson I learned through performing arts is that there is nothing we cannot do; no matter what hand we were dealt with at birth, no matter the circumstances and hardships that are thrown our way, we can be whoever we chose to be. We write our own script, we are the lead role in our lives, and when something unexpected changes the script we say, "Yes, and..." to that situation. Things will happen that are out of our control that do not make sense. Instead of neglecting them, we can choose to improvise and accept the situation in front of us. We control how we react; our reaction can change the course of our script whether it works toward getting back on track, continuing the same path you have written- or you stop and rewrite your script. Find a new way to end our stories with no unanswered questions and no regrets. That has been the biggest lesson I've learned; I have rewritten my script multiple times and will continue to rewrite it until I find my best ending. Don't be afraid to improvise, you might find yourself in an ending better than anything you could have ever predicted.

I appreciate that The Gold Law Firm The Gold Law Firm is honored to offer scholarship awards to freshmen who have spent their early education taking part in challenging skill-building activities such as Scouts. It has not been easy, but I have done my best to give 100% each day, make a positive impact in the lives of those around me even as life dealt me devastating loss, multiple injuries and giving back to my community.

I learned at a young age the importance of sharing my time, my talent, and my treasures with others. I have been a Girl Scout since I was 5 years old. Ms. Patty, my Troop Leader for ten of my 12 years in Girl Scouts taught us what it means to be a Girl Scout and encouraged us to make our community and the world a better place. Each fun activity went hand in hand with a community service project. My troop has participated in events such as Scouting for a Cure, playing bingo with the residents of a nursing home and the local Christmas parade. We have packed shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child and volunteered at the Charlotte, NC Processing Center. I was beginning to understand what she meant by giving back and started looking for ways to do just that. My troop earned its bronze award by cleaning up the Fairy Village at Camp Occoneechee. I teamed up with a fellow Girl Scout to organize, promote and collect books for our school library to earn my silver award. My gold award addressed an issue personal to me - alcohol abuse and its effects on families. I have also served in the Kids Ministry, Drama Ministry and Seniors Ministry at Harvest Community Church. I enjoyed spending time with the little ones and the young at heart and being on stage sharing the good news.

My mom and I stepped out of our comfort zone when I joined Girl Scouts as a kindergartner. We learned a lot about ourselves and each other. She does not like camping. I do not think she ever will. She went with us anyway. We slept in cabins with running water and bathrooms as Daisies and Brownies. She was known to bring cleaning supplies, bug sprays and moth balls on camping trips. She would inspect, clean and critter proof our tents / cabins before we could unload our gear from the vehicles. Then there were a few trips that involved tents. That meant no running water or bathrooms. It was hot and sticky, there were bugs and critters. To go to the bathroom, you had to take a friend and venture through the woods. She was a trooper. I honestly think she enjoyed most of the trips. I don't think she will ever admit it.

"Cookie Mom" was in the zone when it was time to sell Girl Scout cookies. Her plan involved spreadsheets with formulas to track sales and project demand and tricks for securing cookie booths. My troop was one of the highest selling troops in our Service unit. For several years I was one of the top selling girls in our service unit, selling thousands of boxes of cookies. We adopted the post office motto - "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night." My time as a Girl Scout especially selling cookies has served me well in my part time jobs during high school working for Levy Restaurants and Falls Jewelers and as the ERAU FL Women's Volleyball Student Team Manager.

The days and weeks after my dad's sudden passing in April 2020 were a blur. His loss left a hole in my heart that can never be filled. There are tears. There is sadness. There are many unanswered questions. I learned a lot about my dad's alcohol abuse after he died. I remember some situations from my childhood. I was struggling. I could not believe my dad was gone. I was angry. Why did this happen to my dad? I knew I needed to do something. I decided to make lemonade from the lemons that life had given me. My search for answers and my curiosity about alcohol abuse led to The Tommy Project, my Girl Scout Gold Award in honor of my dad Tommy. And I knew that I wanted to share my story with others to inspire them to seek the much-needed help for their loved one.

Many people helped me along the way to ultimately connect with Rachel Berg, Student Assistance Program Specialist with Cabarrus County Schools to make The Tommy Project, my personal story about my dad's battle with alcoholism a part of the Drug, Alcohol and Tobacco units in middle schools. Health teachers have the option to opt into sharing with their students. The Tommy Project is posted on the Student Services Substance Abuse Prevention Resources section on the Cabarrus County Schools website. Teachers can coordinate with school counselors / social worker to support students and provide contact information for resources supporting students/families if someone is looking for help.

Through The Tommy Project I have learned how to take an idea and work through actionable steps to develop my project. Some of those skills included research, written and verbal communication, active listening, acceptance of constructive criticism and problem solving. As The Tommy Project became a reality I developed public speaking, time management, leadership, planning and decision-making skills. I was recognized by Cabarrus County Schools as an Impact Through Education winner in May 2022 for my work on The Tommy Project. The recognition received for The Tommy Project is bittersweet. I wish my dad were here to share in the special milestones in my life so far – learning to drive a car, getting my driver's license, Senior Prom, High School graduation and moving off to college. I will consider The Tommy Project a success if just one person reaches out to a teacher, staff member, guidance counselor, mental health professional or substance abuse professional seeking help for themselves or a loved one.

I am excited about the possibility that The Gold Law Firm through the Challenge Yourself Scholarship may invest in my future at ERAU Florida where I am a freshman studying Homeland Security. I envision a safer, more secure tomorrow, and see myself in some capacity of security. There will be resources and opportunities available to gain hands on experience outside of the classroom through internships. A study abroad or two with Department faculty led summer trips to countries where the opportunity to attend workshops, seminars and behind the scenes tours of security related facilities to learn firsthand how other nations and companies deal with current security issues excites me!

I would like to close with a few words of wisdom that have guided and continue to guide me in the classroom, in the community and on the playing field. Make time to thank those who have helped you get to where you are today. Do not take anything or anyone for granted. Control the controllable. Be compassionate. Be humble. And finally, respect authority, use resources wisely, and make the world a better place. Imagine what our schools, our workplaces, our communities, and the world would be like if we encouraged one another, showed each other mutual respect, and celebrated successes.

For many years after the most traumatic experience of my life, I didn't talk about what happened—not because I didn't want to, or I didn't recognize that it wasn't my fault, but because I was ashamed. Ashamed of how people would treat me if they knew who I really was: not funny, nor pretty, nor smart, but broken. I was extremely lucky to be born into a healthy childhood. Both of my parents were around, and the first thing they ever taught me was love. They loved me, they loved each other, and they loved the world. As I grew up I fell in love with the world too.

Then the dynamics changed. My dad changed. In about five whirlwind years, this idyllic childhood melted into a hellish nightmare. First, he was uncharacteristically reckless with money, developed severe paranoia, and even had hallucinations. He filed for divorce, totaled multiple cars in one year, and received three restraining orders. It took two years of fear and confusion for us to discover he wasn't a bad person—he had a brain disease. After his diagnosis, his mind disintegrated further. We worried he would forget how to eat and choke to death. Eventually his ability to speak was fading, and then the doctors warned us not to be surprised if one day he didn't recognize us. I witnessed the humorous spark in my dad's eyes slowly die out, replaced with the glassy, lifeless stare of a zombie. Paradoxically, the most life-changing event I've faced is death itself.

As I look back nearly seven years later, I realize that the loss itself wasn't the only surprising outcome of this real-life soap opera. There are the Thanksgivings with one empty chair, the New Yearses with no soulmate to kiss my mom—but there is also my own self-growth. Losing my dad opened me up to a whole new world of suffering and grief, but it also opened me up to a whole new world of courage and compassion.

The future is uncertain as well. My dad had frontotemporal degeneration (FTD), a form of dementia. There is no cure, no approved treatments, and it is terminal. There is a 50% chance that I inherited that mutation and it's the same for my sister. There are few things worse than our 1-in-2 chances of having his fate.

In spite of the statistics, I have immense hope. This sinister reminder of my own mortality is also quite empowering. After all, my lifespan is limited regardless of genetics. My story shows me how I want to better the world. To begin with, FTD is rare. I want to raise awareness and let those in the trenches know that they aren't alone. Neurological diseases overall are stigmatized alongside trauma. Thus, while I struggled to understand what happened, I was pressured to stay quiet; now I want to disassemble the stigma and create spaces where trauma isn't shameful. My greatest goal—my life's goal—is to find a cure for FTD. I wonder if it's coincidental that the brain has always fascinated me.

In order to achieve a goal as immense as curing a rare disease, I realized that I needed to be able to communicate why it mattered to me—and this meant letting light reflect on my past rather than hiding it behind the curtain. My work involving speech began with a focus on fundraising, which necessarily involved telling both people I knew and strangers about what I had been through. My fundraising efforts ranged from the Charity Miles app to the Association for Frontotemporal Degeneration (AFTD)'s With Love and Food For Thought campaigns. I have walked, biked, and ran nearly 3,000 miles, custom-designed and sold clothing, distributed flyers, ran an Instagram fundraising page, hosted multiple cooking shows in Ecuador, and even walked a people-loving baby cow around my area. In 28 days nearly $6,000 was raised. I expected to raise some money, hopefully $500, and this goal was far surpassed; the greatest serendipity, though, was the connections with people I had never met before. Complete strangers opened up to me about their loved ones with other forms of dementia, and one woman was a degenerative diseases graduate student who requested a flier for her class. My two aims were to gain donations and raise awareness, but in hindsight I did so much more than that: I provided the space for people to freely admit that they were struggling too, and to feel comfortable within that uncertainty.

I'm also writing a book about my dad. My goal is to explore what it means to be human through a lens that simultaneously shares his legacy. For parts of the book involving FTD, I've been interviewing caregivers to tell FTD's full, individual-specific story. It has been humbling to hear the stories from people who are living my past, and I've been reminded of how listening is just as valuable as speech. I also plan on traveling to Iceland and other countries to interview strangers about these emotions and experiences relevant to my dad's life and their cultural perceptions.

My favorite project thus far was my talk, "Falling in Love With the World." I shared my own story regarding my dad, but then I discussed lessons that I've learned since.

My first topic was shame—how I spent years hiding from my past because I didn't want to be treated differently if people knew I had depression, or to become "the girl whose dad died"; how I realized that to make a difference I had to own up to the truth. Then I discussed empathy, ambivalence, and "positivity is complicated." I closed with my favorite topic. My dad's life taught me how to fall in love with the world, but his death taught me how to fall in love with the worldagain—even when love feels like a foreign tongue. I learned to love fiercely, wildly, unconditionally, to fight the fight of your life with love as the weapon. This form of speech surprised me the most. I spoke to people who I had known for years, many of whom had known me since the time when my dad was healthy, but in talking I felt as if I had surpassed the formalities that had spent so long developing. I no longer felt like "this girl at school," and certainly not like "the girl whose dad died." I felt liberated— welcomed. I only wish that my audiences felt the same way.

One day my brain may fall apart, whether from FTD or otherwise; one day I could end up as shattered and disheveled as my dad once did. But by then I will have lived a worthwhile life. I am studying my love, neuroscience, and necessarily continuing to practice communication and speech. From these practices, I hope that future girls like me will see their dads at graduation; and for anyone who does face trauma, that there is enough empathy to set them free. I hope that one day everyone will have the courage to fall in love with the world again.

Sometimes life likes to throw us a little curveball. It always seems to happen at the most unwarranted moments. Just when life seems to be flowing consistently in a positive direction, everything falls out of place, and before we even realize, it comes to a screeching halt. And, unless we discover a healthy outlet, coming out of the darkness can seem nearly impossible. For me, Girl Scouts was the light at the end of the tunnel.

I was a part of Troop 30923 for ten years. That is ten years of friendships with some of the most wonderful women on earth. That is ten years of memories that included everything from cookie sales to Disney. That is ten years of highs and lows that I wouldn't trade for the world. Troop 30923 saved me from one of the worst times in my life.

On October 13th, 2021, as I was getting ready to leave the last class of the day and go to soccer practice, I received a text from my father. My stomach immediately formed a knot at the simplicity of the message. Skip Practice and go straight home, was all it said. I tried to hold back tears as something inside kept telling me it was my mother, even though I refused to listen. I drove the 15 minutes back home in silence with my younger brother in the passenger seat. When we got there, we sat on the couch, anxiously awaiting my father's arrival. It seemed as if time was crawling, although we couldn't have been waiting for more than five minutes. And, finally, when he walked in the door, I could only stare at him.

My father's eyes were glassy as if he were holding back tears. He placed his lunchbox cooler on the ground, as he did every other day and walked over to us sitting on the couch. The only thing he said was, "I got a call about your mother today. They don't know how long she has left." Tears streamed down my face as I searched for my coat, although I could hardly see past the wells of water forming in my eyes.

The drive to the hospital was about an hour long, yet the only thing I remember was praying that she would be alive when we got there. She was lying there helplessly in the ICU. Now, I knew my mother was sick. I knew she had cancer. I knew it wasn't good, but she never told us how bad it was. I don't think she wanted us to know. And, two days later, she was gone.

It didn't feel like she was gone. It felt like she would walk in the door at any moment. It felt like the next phone call I got would be her telling me she'll be home late. It felt like I could look over and she would be on the sidelines cheering me on. And, somedays, it still does.

Although I cherish the memories of my mother, it saddened me to think of her. Thus, I never wanted to. I searched for an outlet. An escape from reality. Something that brought me joy. Somewhere that I wouldn't be pitied. Someone who wouldn't walk on eggshells because of my mother's death. The only place that seemed to encompass all of that was my Girl Scout Troop.

We met every other Friday. I always looked forward to going because it was a place where I could be my loud, talkative, and sarcastic self without the pity of my past. Going to Girl Scouts was a break from reality. I didn't have guidance counselors hunting me down in school making sure I was okay. I didn't have teachers being softer on me because they felt sorry. I didn't have friends who were worried about saying the word mom near me. Girl Scouts was a place where I wasn't coddled for my life. They treated me just as I wanted to be treated, like an ordinary high school student.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, so did my healing journey. I clung to the core values of my troop: service, courage, and character. I leaned on the service to build courage. The courage to think about my mom. The courage to talk about my mom. The courage to continue enjoying the activities we had appreciated together. And through that, I believe that I have developed a stronger character. One that isn't afraid of the obstacles or the hurt, but one that can accomplish anything. Because, in the end, "Life will always throw you curve balls. It's your job to swing the bat" (Sharon Purtill).

I, like many others, am a child of divorce. My parents split up when I was around 13, and for about a years before that my mother was not a huge part of my life. As many know this experience is awful, it can be wildly damaging to a young man like myself. It was awful and it was hurtful, however I had access to a resource in my community that others did not, The Boy Scouts of America. I love the outdoors, as well as the various survival activities of scouts, but the most impactful part of that program where the people it brought into my life. My family and community had been involved in scouting for many generations, and so my participation felt obligatory at best and a burden at worst. That is, until during the middle of my parent's separations and issues we moved down to Arizona. Once we had relocated scouting became a way for me to make connections and friendships that where hard to make during this period of my life. The scouting program also introduced two remarkable men into my life. These men where my two main scouting leaders, and now very dear mentors and friends.

When I first met these men, I was a mess. As previously mentioned, my home life was in turmoil; lacking half of the parental guidance that I had once had. However, my new scouting leaders became a rock in my life. Every Wednesday I knew I would have scouts, and the opportunity for stability. Beyond that, the scout masters took so much time out of their week to make sure that I was doing well. They would come to my house and talk with my family and I; they'd bring us treats, they'd have dinners with us, they'd always go above and beyond for me. These two men also taught me major life skills, not just how to tie confusing knots. From them I learned what it was to be inclusive to others, as well as how to help comfort and maximize someone's potential. Not only that, but also how to change a tire and make the best s'mores! Also, as a part of scouting the troop and I would go camping. We went all over Arizona, from Flagstaff to Payson, and everywhere in between. These trips would include epic adventures from hiking and backpacking, all the way to exploring lava tubes and cave complexes. Beyond the fun, there would be campfires, jokes, and such genuine connection with each other, that we all formed very close relationships. At the head of all this was scoutmaster Matt and Alex, always there, always helping, not matter what.

Now eventually all good things come to an end, and this troop dissolved after a time. Yet, these years as a scout are very important to me. I couldn't tie a half decent knot or weave a basket, but I can form genuine connection with others, and I have learned the value of compassion. In the years since the troop dissolved, we have stayed close, I live down the street from my old scoutmasters. We see one another often, and I'm grateful they are in my life. In the good times and the bad times, I have felt their love and support, and I am so grateful I was able to spend so much time with them. This time with them has imparted with a profound knowledge of leadership; in caring and being involved with those you lead, you become an effective leader. A leader doesn't coerce his followers into things, he guides and supports them, he meets them where they are to lift them to where they can be. A leader must care.

Below is an image of me and fellow troop members at scout camp. In this picture I am suffering from food poisoning, and bad dehydration. You will also notice I look happy to be there. And I was. I may have been sick as a dog, but these people and their support made me happy as could be!