My name is Munise, and I am a rising junior at the University of Rochester majoring in Economics and minoring in International Relations. I am most intellectually passionate about studying the intersections between economics and sociological phenomena like class, environment, migration, and discrimination. More specifically, understanding how economic situations impact societal motivation and behavior has been a topic of interest for me. From discussing the impact of economic policies on modern revolutions to analyzing the characteristics of Chinese literature under communism in the late 20th century, I have engaged in critical analyses and eye-opening conversations. As a student who spent half of her life in the United States and Turkey, I have been able to introduce my unique experiences and was met with great curiosity and engagement by my professors and classmates. I came to the University of Rochester with an ambition towards economics—due in part to the tumultuous disaster of the Turkish economy under Erdogan’s authoritarian rule. I wanted to bring new perspectives to the campus community and gain new perspectives from the thousands of students and faculty here. Taking classes in different academic disciplines and talking to advisors at the career center, I’ve developed a more concrete goal for my career and other prospects. Embedded in my ambitions, also, is the core desire for flexibility. I know myself to thrive in areas where flexibility and adaptability are prominent, as that is the kind of student and member of society I’ve grown into through years of change, conflict, and unpredictability. Having witnessed the detriment of natural disasters through my family's experience under the catastrophic earthquakes that shook Turkey last year, I grew an immense appreciation and respect for the efforts of Doctors Without Borders, an organization that delivered emergency aid on the ground no matter what political restraints were there to hold them back. I grew certain that I would find fulfillment in working in the financial branch of such an organization dedicated to the betterment of humanity with compassion and international aid at the forefront of their mission. Through my education and future career goals, I want more than anything to contribute to something greater than myself and reach out a helping hand to the millions of humans around the world who have been silenced—either by starvation, injury, or political suppression. It is inconceivable to me that we have the privilege to go about our daily lives while countless people are praying for one person to hear their calls for help. If I were to work for an organization like Doctors Without Borders and help manage their finances and donations, I would be contributing to a worthwhile cause and put humanitarian efforts at the forefront of my career. Such a result is only possible through the world-class education I have been lucky enough to receive and one that I intend to make the most out of throughout my time at university.

My name is Munise, and I am a rising junior at the University of Rochester majoring in Economics and minoring in International Relations. I am most intellectually passionate about studying the intersections between economics and sociological phenomena like class, environment, migration, and discrimination. More specifically, understanding how economic situations impact societal motivation and behavior has been a topic of interest for me. From discussing the impact of economic policies on modern revolutions to analyzing the characteristics of Chinese literature under communism in the late 20th century, I have engaged in critical analyses and eye-opening conversations. As a student who spent half of her life in the United States and Turkey, I have been able to introduce my unique experiences and was met with great curiosity and engagement by my professors and classmates. I came to the University of Rochester with an ambition towards economics—due in part to the tumultuous disaster of the Turkish economy under Erdogan’s authoritarian rule. I wanted to bring new perspectives to the campus community and gain new perspectives from the thousands of students and faculty here. Taking classes in different academic disciplines and talking to advisors at the career center, I’ve developed a more concrete goal for my career and other prospects. Embedded in my ambitions, also, is the core desire for flexibility. I know myself to thrive in areas where flexibility and adaptability are prominent, as that is the kind of student and member of society I’ve grown into through years of change, conflict, and unpredictability. Having witnessed the detriment of natural disasters through my family's experience under the catastrophic earthquakes that shook Turkey last year, I grew an immense appreciation and respect for the efforts of Doctors Without Borders, an organization that delivered emergency aid on the ground no matter what political restraints were there to hold them back. I grew certain that I would find fulfillment in working in the financial branch of such an organization dedicated to the betterment of humanity with compassion and international aid at the forefront of their mission. My financial situation is not particularly common; I am a US citizen whose parents have been living abroad in Turkey for the past decade. They earn wages in the Turkish Lira, a currency that has been experiencing near-hyperinflation for years. Subsequently, their wages (around $40,000 annually) barely keep our seven-person family afloat in Turkey and are not nearly enough to fund my education at the University of Rochester. To be completely transparent, my family’s federally-recognized contribution level is 0 dollars, but the University of Rochester recognizes it to be about $4,100 annually. I pay the entirety of this bill on my own through my on-campus jobs such as working food service at Starbucks and tutoring for the Center for Community Engagement. As I work nearly 20 hours every week and spend another chunk of time as a teaching assistant, it has been difficult for me to become devoted to clubs and societies on campus, such as the Financial and Economics Council which would open many doors for me career-wise. Gaining leadership positions in such organizations is increasingly difficult for students whose immediate priority is paying for school. If I were to receive this generous scholarship, the burden of supporting myself financially would be lifted enough for me to spread my wings in other areas on campus and grow even more as an individual.

The word resilience is, to many of us, something strived for and admired. Oftentimes, however, we take for granted the comfort we have and underestimate the amount of suffering that millions of people experience on a daily basis. Yu Hua’s famous novel To Live encapsulates how hardship can transform even the most spoiled landlord, spanning decades under the turbulence of 20th-century China. While I read To Live for a college course this past spring semester, I wish I had read it years before and that I could recommend it to every single person around the globe. We all have something to learn from the transformative potential of hardship; how it can breed compassion and strength, and how to use our experience to prevent the hardship of other people. The novel leads us through the life of our protagonist Fugui, who is born as a wealthy and spoiled landlord and squanders the entirety of his family’s wealth as a young adult. We follow his life through decades of war and revolution, as he learns for the first time the toll of physical labor and how difficult it is to earn a piece of bread to feed his family under famine. Experiencing warfare, life under dictatorship, and countless deaths of his loved ones, Fugui grows not weaker but more empathetic, caring, and resilient. In an interview with the University of Iowa, Yu Hua described To Live as a testament to endurance, mentioning how many people approached him and told him that the novel gave them motivation to continue in life despite the hardship they were facing. As a Turkish student whose family experienced great hardship under political crises, a catastrophic earthquake, and economic instability, I also found great inspiration to grow stronger in the face of suffering. Every single person on this earth is inherently deserving of a good life, and it is a great tragedy that comparison and insufficient perspective oftentimes prevent us from appreciating what we have in front of us. It is very easy—and very common—to look at those who have more than us and fall into despair at our lousy luck or circumstances. In such situations, I believe that reading novels like To Live helps us gain a broader perspective of the world we live in and how we can make the best out of our experiences and practice compassion, no matter what life throws at us.

If you were to ask Munise in her sophomore year of high school whether or not her lifestyle was considered healthy, she'd probably just laugh at you. Indeed, back then I viewed health as a distant but incessant guilty warning; I was aware that choosing a quick but nutritionally-empty breakfast would only lead to headaches, and that filling up on instant noodles after school was sure to only make my stomach upset, but I could not find it in myself to break out of the cycle. I also knew that I could make the time to be physically active if I wanted to, but all of this was easier said than actually implemented. And so, I was a victim of unhealthy habits, knowing that somewhere and somehow I would need to turn things around for the better. The question was, when would this breaking point occur? In my junior year of high school, the COVID-19 lockdowns confined everyone into their homes and made me all the more aware of how inactive my days were. I realized many things about how food and activity directly affect my mood, emotions, hormones, sleep quality, and overall well-being. Even a brief 10-minute YouTube workout had me feeling euphoric in the hours that followed, and a quinoa salad topped with salmon kept me nourished and full throughout the day. Turns out that feeling uneasy, groggy, and tired is not the natural state that humans are meant to be in. What's more: the steps one needs to take to implement a healthier lifestyle are awfully simple and straightforward. There is no need to overcomplicate a system that gets feedback directly from the body: if a meal makes me feel good for longer than just the fifteen minutes immediately following it, then it is good for me. If a brisk jog around the park has me out of breath but feeling more energized afterward, then it ought to be a positive habit. I began college in the fall of 2022, after COVID-19 restrictions were lifted and we were allowed to enjoy the fresh air again. For the first time, I was completely away from my family, my home, and almost every routine I had been familiar with. It felt disorienting and nerve-wracking to be in a completely new environment, but I also knew that I could bring with me the healthy habits I had built up over time. If the weather allowed for it, I went for a run along the campus river in the mornings—I am sure that you are familiar with the rush of endorphins after an exhausting but rewarding workout session. I grew to find nourishment and fulfillment in this bliss, making sure to listen to the cues and feedback my body gave me. It became less about the number on the scale and more about how much stronger and more resilient I felt, how I was able to listen to calculus more attentively after a workout and a filling, nutritious breakfast. Furthermore, it became hard to imagine how I went for so long neglecting the care and attention my body needed. Over time we gravitate to habits that become second nature to us, and while this process takes time and dedication, it is not impossible and it is definitely never too late. If you were to ask Munise in her sophomore whether or not she believed that she could make a change in her habits for the better, she would most definitely shake her head and laugh dismissively. Ask the same question to Munise now, however, and she'll say: I'm already on it.

You may have noticed that, nowadays, advertising a product or service is looked down upon. People often call the marketing process dishonest and deceptive, as if a billboard or advertisement is the product of malicious scheming. In reality, however, we as humans have mastered the art of marketing since the days we held sticks in our hands and sparked a fire with them. Even today, we use advertising for non-money sectors like education (think of those glossy college pamphlets) and non-profit organizations (social media has done wonders for collecting donations). So, I've begun to wonder: why is it framed as a deceptive practice to market a product? How can we earn the trust of potential consumers and create dynamic and inviting spaces for innovative marketing? I was lucky enough to enroll in an economics class that changed the way I think about marketing techniques; we were prompted to ruminate on how marketing can help bring products to a wider audience, and how we can prevent deception and misleading advertising. Indeed, it can be the case where deceitful tools are employed to create a false image about a product—I'm picturing those tricky little tiny fonts at the bottom of the screen—or embellished language is used to conceal reality. Strangely enough, I became acutely aware of the harms of misleading marketing through a seemingly-unrelated field: politics. Having lived in Turkey for eight years, I noticed the danger that conniving tactics entailed for populations. It is, unfortunately, easy to sugarcoat and conceal reality instead of delivering the full truth—especially when your aim is to sway an audience. Manipulation often comes to mind when one thinks of both marketing and politics and as a student who is passionate about bringing transparency and authenticity to both fields, I strive to disconnect the negative connotations and instead shed light on the positive potential we possess in our hands. It may not be immediately obvious that marketing can make the difference between a dying service and a thriving business, and you may also not notice that almost everything we consume and own is ours thanks to deliberate and thoughtful marketing processes. None of this is inherently bad or dishonorable—rather, it is a testament to the beauty of free commerce and the expression of our talents. We do not have to sit and lament the bad examples of advertising; there is an open field of possibility to use truthful, creative, and clever techniques when marketing products. I aim to use these tools to introduce services and products to audiences who hitherto may have not had easily accessible knowledge of them—I, for one, would not have known of the enriching art exhibit four streets away if the foundation's social media page hadn't introduced it to me. My sister would've spent hours staring at the store aisle if the hair products didn't have specialized descriptions on the bottles. You probably also have discovered hundreds of new things thanks to savvy and smart marketing. What could be better than harnessing this invaluable potential?