Growing up, I watched socioeconomic struggles mold perspectives. My family was always deciding because of the stretch of a dollar, prioritization of want versus need, and often sacrifice. Resilience, empathy, and community support are valuable lessons learned from those experiences. They also lit a fire in me to create positive change for others facing similar struggles. Experiencing financial hardship has influenced how I see the world. I’ve learned that small gestures, like sharing knowledge or lending a helping hand, can have a big impact. In high school, I began volunteering as an English tutor; most of my students were from economically constrained backgrounds where confidence and resource availability were huge issues. Helping them with their language skills showed me the power of education in leveling the playing field. Later in college, I also volunteered with international student orientations: overwhelming, to say the least, especially when someone barely has enough money to get by. I toured new students around campus resources and shared pointers on how to save money, navigate cultural differences, and thrive academically. It was great seeing them find their footing, and this is a very key thing when people feel lost or unsupported-community is everything. I am all for paying it forward. In my case, the plan is to keep on mentoring students in creating spaces where they are valued and understood. At my college, I want to start a peer support program for students facing financial challenges. The program would connect them with affordable resources, part-time job leads, and workshops on budgeting and financial aid applications. But that’s just the start. As a future nurse, I would like to extend this mission into my career in service: health care is not only about the treatment of pathologies but also about the realization of inequalities that keep individuals in an unhealthy state. Therefore, I would wish to work in areas where individuals are underserved and promote programs that help bridge gaps in healthcare disparities. Socioeconomic adversity tuned my belies, and the relationships I built. Empathy and teamwork make me a better friend, student, and leader. Besides, further, it has made me practical and resourceful: I know to make the most out of scant resources yet aim high. More than anything, I have learned from adversity that success is not individual. Success is always making sure to lift others on the ladder when you climb. I want others to feel seen and supported by way of mentorship community programs, or care provided by nursing. This scholarship would help me in staying focused on my goals while easing the financial strain of college. It would also serve as a reminder of the importance of giving back, in that one person's success creates a ripple effect for all those around them. My plan is clear: learn, grow, and give back. With hard work and the right support, I’m confident I can turn my vision into reality and make a lasting impact on my community.

The profession of a nurse has always been my goal. In my understanding, nursing is not only a profession; rather, it is serving, catering, and staying with people at the weakest moment. This dream keeps me going through planning the route, putting in effort, and keeping concentration on the goals. It would be possible to achieve those aims and create a greater difference in the healthcare industry with a clear target and proper strategy in place. Currently, I am working toward an Associate in General Studies degree at Highline College. While this may not appear to be related to nursing, the program is a first step. It helps me develop the basic skills in critical thinking, communication, and problem-solving, which are essential for a future nurse. This means being accepted into an ADN or BSN program in Washington State and, no later than the year 2026, being officially accepted into a formal nursing education program, graduating, and then passing the NCLEX-RN to get licensed. Of course, this is not easy to achieve and requires resources: financial, academic, and emotional. Nursing school is expensive; tuition for ADN programs ranges from $10,000 to $15,000, while BSN programs may cost as much as $30,000. Added to this burden are nursing textbooks, clinical supplies, and living expenses. I will pay for these through careful planning, part-time employment, and scholarships. Besides financial planning, I will also equip myself with skills and experiences. One very valuable skill I have already learned through volunteering is how to relate with people from other walks of life. As a nurse, I will be dealing with patients from all over the world. I have already helped overseas students at my college overcome obstacles presented by their culture and academic performance. I have inspired confidence in the ability of high school students in Vietnam to learn English. The experience shaped the attention paid to and comprehension of and adjustment to the particular requirements of each patient qualities vital for nursing. I apply for this kind of scholarship as a means of paying for my school. For me, scholarships are not just a source of money but a way to focus on my studies without constantly thinking about the money issue. I could also use every saved dollar from the scholarship to pay for tuition and clinical supplies. Hands-on experience is another component of my plan. I want to make money and learn useful skills, so I will go about part-time working in healthcare environments as a medical assistant or a certified nurse assistant. This way, I will be exposed to the environment for some valuable purpose and link what I will have learned in class to life situations. I am also aware of how difficult the path ahead will be. Nursing school is demanding and takes a lot of commitment. My time management skills and personal resilience will be challenged as I juggle personal responsibilities, a part-time job, and academic obligations. I'm ready. Being successful academically, learning a new culture, and moving to a new country have all taught me how to persist. The end that I have in mind when it comes to being a professional nurse is that of attending to the whole person and not just the symptoms of the disease. Complementing my technical skills, I also wish to be known by every patient with the amount of empathy and understanding that I can show to him. I want to make a change in someone's life; be the voice of that person who cannot shout out or be at least someone to lean on during terrible times.

I frequently find myself standing at the bank of a serene lake, rod in hand, waiting for the water to speak in the stillness of the early morning when everything is still shrouded in mist. For me, fishing has always been a way of life—a means of connecting with something greater than myself—rather than merely a pastime. I discovered more about myself in these situations than I could ever learn from a textbook. Lessons learned on and off the lake include the rhythm of casting, the patience needed to wait, and the silent humility that comes with every catch. Character, to me, is not just about being good when others are watching. It is about showing up even when no one else does. Whether I am on the water or in my community, I try to hold myself to a standard that reflects integrity, respect, and kindness. I recall a day when I was fishing with a friend and we had a hard time catching anything. I concentrated on supporting them, giving advice, and acknowledging their little accomplishments rather than becoming irritated or racing to surpass my record. The trip we took together was more enjoyable than the fish we caught. Being patient and understanding in the face of a fast-paced environment is what character is all about. Like character, sportsmanship extends beyond the games we play and the competitions we engage in; it reveals itself in how we treat people, both winners and losers. I have seen the tension when things don't go just right during fishing tournaments, but I believe how we react to these situations is the real test of sportsmanship. I have learned that a "better luck next time," a handshake, or some encouragement might mean more than an award for first place. The competition is about honoring other people as much as oneself. I go on into competition with a quiet regard for my fellow fishermen that all of us are creating and learning, sharing in that same passion for the sea. The silent force that propels life and fishing is work ethic. Success is rarely easy on the water. It requires many hours of practice, trying out various baits, studying fish behavior, and getting over the disappointment of not catching anything. However, perseverance—casting even when the fish are not biting—is the real reward. Off the water, my academic endeavors and community service are motivated by the same work ethic. I always try to do more than expected, whether by volunteering for events in my neighborhood or by helping out someone in need. Hard work to me is not about achieving what one has set out to achieve but about being of help to others, whether it means helping out a friend or cleaning up after some event in the community. I try to live by Travis Ely's principles, which are work ethic, sportsmanship, and character. I also try to encourage others with my words and actions just as Jesus was able to do for many. I carry his energy with me wherever I go, whether it's on the water or in my community, and never forget that the real test of success is not how many victories we achieve but rather how we affect the people we come into contact with.

Life is like a river that meanders through the countryside, having its twists and turns. Sometimes it flows smoothly and serenely, and at other times it crashes with force against the rocks. Similarly, my path to becoming a nurse was filled with impediments, big and small, rather like storms that sometimes sweep across fields. Each one of them had taught me how to strengthen my determination and fire the intention to heal. As it is said in my nation, the power of the bamboo stem is fashioned in the winds. In my situation, I've found that hardship teaches us to be strong, adapt, and never give up. Of course, I do get tired, and the job demands, responsibilities, and tests wear me out. But during those moments, I am reminded of my purpose: to help, to heal, and to return the favor to the community that raised me. With every step, I took, the memory of the sacrifices my family had made propels me on: little acts of love like late nights spent with me doing homework, or even early mornings, just so I could have breakfast in the morning, telling me that every little act goes way beyond its measure. In my country, we're taught to work hard and patiently. Farmers put in a lot of time, from sunlight to sunset, knowing successes come after a season full of sweat and tenacious effort rather than quick crops. Something that has always remained behind with me. I've always tried to remember my rice fields as a kid whenever things were tough. I have learned to take each challenge one day at a time since you cannot rush the harvest. While there may be days when I seem to be carrying the whole world on my shoulders, I know my dreams will grow in their time, gradually, surely, and beautifully, like this rice. Family is central to everything, and it was in the family that my influences lay, those who gave me the will to see things through. When things seem hard, the guidance of the family my family gives growth, just like the tender shoots of rice seedlings that one sows on the fertile lands of our country. Always reminding me that I'm not alone and that every hardship has a reason behind it. I remember their comments and forge ahead, not turning back when the going gets tough. As I look ahead on my journey to becoming a nurse, I am prepared for whatever the future has in store for me. Life will have its storms, as it has in the past. But like the bamboo that bends in the wind, I shall not yield from my goal. With each challenge that I face, I am one step closer to my future of helping and showing compassion to those in need. I know, just as my ancestors taught me, I will continue to face any obstacles that come my way with great determination, as I have whenever I have pursued my dreams.

Growing up in a household where McDonald's is a luxury, I grew up knowing that life does not come with a safety net. My parents worked long hours just to make ends meet, and even though we never had much, we always had enough. Watching them push through exhaustion taught me the value of resilience. I do not have the latest gadgets or new clothes, but I have determination. When you come from a low-income family, you learn to make the most of what you have got. There were days when I worried more about bills than my grades. I helped my family however I could—sometimes that meant picking up odd jobs, other times it meant simply staying out of the way while my dad worked two shifts. Even in those hard moments, education was a way out toward something better, a chance to break the cycle. I applied that belief at school, though I faced many challenges at home: showing up ready to learn no matter what. These life experiences have taught me to look beyond myself and notice those with difficulties and to lend my hand when I can. I know what it is to need help, and I want to give that back. From the shelving of food to guiding families through resources, to just offering a smile-everything reminds me of how much of a big difference small actions make. I plan to carry these lessons with me as I pursue my education and career in nursing. My goal is to become a nurse and work directly with patients, offering care, comfort, and support during their most vulnerable moments. I want to uplift others through compassion and skill, knowing that a kind word or a helping hand can make all the difference.

Life is a cause for celebration of possibility, resiliency, and dignity; it is a gift to be treasured in all its beauty and complexity. My commitment to pro-life is not an ethereal opinion; rather, it is an authentically held belief informed by life experience and a deep commitment to the intrinsic value of every human life from conception to natural death. I was raised with a great number of examples of kindness and selflessness. I learned from my parents that everyone counts, no matter what. All these principles have been shown to me in a thousand little ways, not just by speeches. Whether it was lending a helping hand to someone in need, volunteering at community events, or aiding a neighbor, one thing was made clear by my family: every human life was worth something. This has very much shaped my foundation for life and inspired my commitment to the pro-life cause. One of the most foundational moments of my journey in life involved volunteer work at a pregnancy resource center. I saw fear, uncertainty, and societally entrenched pressure thrust upon many women who stood before unplanned pregnancies. Still, I witnessed bravery and beauty in their choices against the odds for life. Further conversations with these women deepened my insight into the pro-life stance: it's not just about the protection of the unborn, but an effort to support mothers, families, and entire communities to have an environment where life is nurtured. Another defining experience was working with people who had disabilities. Being among them taught me this very serious and profound lesson: that whatever might be life diverse, even if not simple, it was significant and useful. The joy and resilience in, finally proving to me certainly with that uniqueness in point of view, one's worth was not decided by the things one could or could not do but by a life well spent. For example, research into fetal development shows the unborn as human; and studies in post-abortion trauma reveal that there is a need for a better supportive system for women. In these regards, through my church, I have participated in outreach programs offering counseling and available resources for women in crisis. Furthermore, I have mentored teens, encouraging open discussions regarding self-worth, the value of relationships, and the sanctity of life. My respect for life does not stop with the unborn: I volunteer with organizations serving the elderly, the homeless, and those with disabilities. It is a holistic approach that underlines continuous value throughout the stages of life. I continue to work and serve as a pro-life voice. I will be expanding that by going further into the policy discussions, supporting legislation protecting life, and working for resources for every child, mother, and family. Continuing to help others learn more about the value of life is important, and being empathetic to others about their beliefs, with empirical evidence to back it up, is the best method of changing minds. At its core, the pro-life position is about love. My experiences have shown me that while it's not always easy to hold this position. We can create a world where the life of every human being is valued and empowered by cultivating a culture of celebration and protection of life.

First-generation college student, rooted in values regarding community, family, and hard work. Via the innumerable hours of my parents working to ensure that their child could be successful in life as they were never afforded, growing up taught me persistence and respect for people, and then there's knowledge. It is their daily sacrifices that inspire me to work hard at my studies and to use them as a means of serving others. Patrick A. Visaggi's values are close to those guiding my life. I share his belief in the value of diligence and commitment. My parents worked hard to create an opportunity for me to succeed, and I will be forever grateful to them, for giving back to my community. I also respect the part unions play in defending employees' rights. My mother, a teacher herself and active in her union, says that unions ensure fair pay and safe working conditions. I have been influenced by this because I chose to pursue a degree in business, in which I hope to learn techniques to help employees and contribute to other workplaces in which employees truly feel valued. My life is built on my family, and I am aware that Patrick A. Visaggi's life was built on the same foundation. I try to be like him because I respect how he helped others and how much he loved his family. Groups are included in my notion of family, but it is not restricted to close family members. I firmly believe in helping one another, whether it be through a simple gesture of kindness or a more significant contribution to a cause. In addition to this basis, Patrick's native New Jersey is a place dear to my heart. My family has always been proud of New Jersey, even though I currently am a resident of another state. New Jersey's close feeling of community has made me strongly affiliated and shaped me into the character that I am today. Cooking is a unique aspect of Patrick, something which I share. My family and I have bonded to the extent of cooking, mainly because during the weekends everyone converges with the family members for meals; this has imparted the three qualities of patience, teamwork, and attention to detail in my character. Although I do not fish as Patrick did, I enjoy being outdoors because it provides me with an opportunity to think and unwind. This reminds me of the importance of taking care of oneself and also is consistent with Patrick's appreciation of life's little things. The arts have always been part of my life, and I support them as much as Patrick did. I do support local theaters and community art events, though I am not directly working in the arts, for I believe these are vital to building a strong sense of community and an outlet for individual expression. Being a friend to Patrick who loves the arts, I try to do my part to attend performances and encourage others to do so. My long-term educational goal is to pursue a nursing degree, and then find a job that would allow me to serve and improve health in communities. I am, therefore, grateful that I have the opportunity to apply for this scholarship, which will enable me to continue on that journey.

Mental illness is not a thing that people can talk openly about. It is messy, unpredictable, and deeply personal. However, mental illness is something we have lived with for years. It shaped our perspectives on the world, humanity,y and the support on the hardest days. I grew up in a close-knit family, where laughter echoed through the dinner table. But beneath the warmth, there were cracks- a quiet struggle that stretched for too long, where the darkness became friends and a sense of unease that I could not name. My dad has dealt with depression for three years. Some days, he was lively, other days, even getting out of bed felt impossible for him. As a middle school child, I did not understand. I did not know what mental illness was back then, but I could feel its weight in our home. It was in the heavy silences, the sudden mood changes, and the times my dad seemed like a different person. I asked him why he could not "get over it"? He can go to Disney park and quitting job for a day. It is that simple to overcome sadness. What made it even harder for him was the pressure to appear strong. As the breadwinner, society and his friends expected him to be unshakable, a stoic provider who never faltered. “Men shouldn’t be weak,” people say, as if showing emotions were some kind of failure. My father tried to live up to this impossible standard. He acted tough, even when I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface. This act—this need to appear invincible—only made his struggle with mental illness heavier. Watching him fight his mind was painful, especially when I saw him slowly lose the light in his eyes. Growing up, I learned ways in which to support my family in small ways. I would step in when Dad needed space, attempt to brighten him up, or just sit with him when he was feeling low. It was not always easy, but it taught me the value of simply being there for someone. I remember one day especially. My dad was having a tough time, and I just sat next to him on the couch. I didn't say anything did not know what to say eventually, he looked at me and said, "It helps. Just being here." That moment has stuck with me ever since. Living with mental illness in the family is not just about hard times; it is also about unexpected strengths. My mother's unwavering support, the shared understanding from my siblings, and the small victories of my father prove that healing may look different than we often expect. These lessons have made me dream for the future: I want to study nursing, not only to cure patients and look after them as whole persons, as I have tried to do with my dad but also to see their struggles and give them uncritical support. All these experiences follow me into the future. They have also taught me how empathy, connection, and the will to keep moving forward day by day are important. This scholarship would mean a lot to me, not just financially, but as a reminder of everything I’ve learned. Mental illness has been a challenge for my family, but it’s also shown me the importance of connection and understanding. It’s taught me that real strength isn’t about never falling—it’s about finding the courage to get back up, over and over again.

I would like to use my studies later on to work as a medical assistant in the United States and then get into nursing. Nursing, to me, is not a job; it is a calling. It means being present for people at the time of their vulnerability and being able to show care, comfort, and understanding where it is most needed. This is the unseen driving force that has led me thus far in my quest. Despite declaring a major in business, I have already started making paths toward health by being certified and hands-on working toward being able to see this dream through. Through all these, one had to be resourceful and patient over time. I had to lay down the bedrock of my work: researching available medical schools, fand oreign healthcare information, and then working toward English proficiency. Language ability has indeed been one of the bigger hurdles, but it has brought an added element of cultural interaction that has helped shape me into a person who can eventually be called a good nurse. Moreover, I intend to involve myself in OPT to have practical experience in a real medical field, which would further bridge the gap between my studies and my aspirations. On the other hand, everything did not work out as easily as it sounds. Growing up from a low-income background, I had to be very conscious of budgeting, and seeking scholarships wherever possible to ease the load off my family. As a first-generation college student, navigating the educational system has felt like finding my way through an unfamiliar maze. There is no handbook for figuring out which decisions are right, so trial and error have often been my guide. Some mistakes were painful, but each taught me lessons that made me more resilient and focused. It has never been financial stress or educational stress, but it was self-doubt and what fits and the uncertainty of whether one's dreams will ever actually come true. Five denials of visas tested that faith and resolve, leaving me questioning who one should be and where. That indeed strengthened my resolve with each rejection. It's much like scaling a mountain: the further one goes up, the stronger the winds, but what one sees from the peak makes every step worth making. From all these experiences, I learned that obstacles are not dead ends but stepping stones, opportunities for one to become stronger and more creative. The road to becoming a nurse will no doubt have more challenges, but I am ready. I have only just begun my journey, but I believe with hard work, persistence, and faith, my dreams will become a reality.

Like the bamboo shoot rising from its humble root, education is my way of transformation and my promise to nurture others while growing. Being the first generation to pursue college in my family, the ghosts of my parents' broken dreams weigh down on my shoulders, yet I must make them realities. This education is not just a personal accomplishment but a powerful process that molds my future and my legacy. My long-ailing grandmother taught me how much proper care could soothe life's worst moments. For me, pursuing a nursing degree is not only a profession but a vocation to serve. I have seen how poverty and ignorance restrict access to basic health care in underprivileged communities where the services are a luxury they can ill afford. I will change that as a nurse; I want to give people compassionate treatment to heal their bodies, spirits, and minds. I envision myself using my training and experience to ensure that everyone gets the care they need in hospitals or clinics where there is the most need.  Education has given me knowledge, confidence, and a sense of purpose. More importantly, it has taught me that dreams are worth chasing. Being a first-generation college student, the process has been lonely, one filled with uncertainty with absolutely no guide through the struggles of higher education. Higher education taught me resilient methods of turning challenges into avenues for growth. Using that knowledge, I want to return to my community to support and provide leadership to motivate others to reach college as a workshop organizer, in-school volunteer, and through speaking engagements at local communities. Outside of my career, I want to make sure that I give back to my community by providing mentorship and support networks for other first-generation students. I have felt firsthand throughout my academic career the difficulty in navigating college without help, and I would like to do my small part in creating a bridge that will bridge the divide between people. I would like to tell my story with the hope that it would inspire others to believe in their potential, that their dreams are valid, and their efforts can break cycles of limitation to open doors for a brighter future, both personal and social.  Financial struggles have been some of the consistent battles of my journey so far: from balancing part-time jobs with demanding coursework to even learning how to budget every dollar. These make for some of the experiences that have equipped me to tackle the challenges in nursing. Those hardships reinforced my determination to succeed and use my experiences as a source of strength to support others.  I dream of a future where the seeds I plant today can grow into an ancient tree that gives opportunities to others. My education is like a tree, whose roots dig deep, while its branches extend in every direction to nourish and give life to others around it. Every patient I touch, every student I teach, and every family I empower will stand in tribute to the transformative power of education to improve the quality of life. I will honor my family with each step I take in this journey. With every step, I break barriers for future generations and carry in my hand a torch of hope.

Through the dark, stormy hurricane in my mind, I have learned to find the dawn, and now I will help others chase the morning light. The human mind can sometimes resemble a stormy sky, where hurricanes of emotion sweep away every glimmer of hope. I have lived through endless times when anxiety crashed against the fragile shores of my peace. Growing up in a household where emotional struggles were often ignored, I felt like a lonely traveler who was wandering in an emotional wilderness. The weight of societal expectations to perform perfectly academically, coupled with feelings of unspoken stigma formed an invisible cage that kept me trapped. It was as though I had become the 52hz whale, singing my lonely song at a frequency no one else could hear. Some days, I found the strength to smile, even as my mind and my heart were grappled with inexplicable sadness. On other days, even breathing felt too heavy. At that time, I was only a 13 teenage girl. Throughout my journey, I learned that healing was not about waiting for someone to rescue me, it was about acknowledging my pain, understanding it, and treating myself nicely. It taught me to sit with my emotions, to let the waves of sadness come and go without drowning in them. I began journaling, using music as my lifeline, a thread connecting me to a sense of hope that was flickering in the strong winds. Slowly, I found help in silence, opening up to an online therapist who guided and checked me every day. Each step, however small, felt like fixing a shattered part of my soul I thought it had broken. This journey has not only strengthened me but also deepened my empathy for others who are fighting their battles alone. Just like the whale, many people are singing their songs of struggles, hoping to be heard. This realization fuels my desire to become a nurse. This realization fuels my desire to become a nurse—a role where compassion and listening are just as vital as medical knowledge. I want to do more than treat physical wounds; I want to understand my patients’ stories, hear their unspoken emotions, and remind them they are not alone. Healing, even when done alone, is a powerful act of resilience, and I want to be a part of that journey for others. Beyond one-on-one care, I am determined to amplify awareness of mental health challenges. I plan to organize workshops focused on self-care, mindfulness, and reducing stigma around mental health. Writing reflective essays and sharing my story is another way I hope to inspire others to seek help and embrace themselves fully. Using my experiences as a foundation, I will encourage open conversations in schools, workplaces, and communities, creating safe spaces for people to share their struggles without fear. My journey has taught me that even in the darkest storms, there is a path to the dawn. Now, it is my turn to guide others toward their morning light, to amplify their voices, and to remind them that they are never truly alone. Through compassion, advocacy, and shared resilience, I hope to create a world where no one feels like the 52Hz whale. Instead, they will find a chorus of support, joining them as they sing their song of healing.

Like a lotus rising from the mud, I strive to bloom against all odds. My journey has been shaped by the resilience of my roots in Vietnam, where challenges are met with quiet determination, and hope is flickering like a torch in a storm. I have dreams of working as a registered nurse in a place where the care factor might be very critical. Besides, coming from a background where the chance to receive higher education was never available, and I stand alone with only hope for company, I work hard toward that dream. Like the rivers that carve through mountains, my ambition is steady, cutting through the rocky barriers of financial hardship. I began my studies in business to become an accountant, a practical choice driven by stability, but my heart called me to nursing, which means much more than a career for me; a career is like a bridge to connect communities. This calling then became undeniable as my grandmother fell ill. I can still remember vividly the silent nights, her by my side as the room seemed to glow softly, only because of the bedside lamps. During one of those nights, a nurse came in. Her actions exuded calmness. She spoke few but powerful words that comforted my grandmother, guided our family, and took care of her. I realized then the difference a nurse could make to a patient and how nursing was not a profession but an act of love. Becoming a registered nurse is more than learning medical skills. Being a nurse is to serve as a lifeline for those who feel pain and fear. This vision fills me with purpose, yet the journey toward it has not been easy. Financial hardship usually holds me back, but I am not going to let it weigh me down. That is why this scholarship means much more than just financial aid; it is the wind that tucks my dream into its wings and enables me to fly. It will give me the ability to focus all my attention on my studies, plunge into clinical experiences, and learn from people who have devoted their lives to healing. This support will bring me closer to my goal of being a nurse who understands not only the science of medicine but also the art of connecting. I want to be the nurse who listens, who advocates, who makes sure nobody feels invisible when that matters most. Just as the lotus flower turns murky waters into a stage for its beauty, so too do I hope that challenges will be transformed into opportunities to lift others. Ultimately, this scholarship represents, to me, not just my opportunity but the ripple of its effect. I hope someday to be able to pay forward the acts of kindness bestowed upon me by nurturing the next generation of dreamers and doers.

The lyric "You fix the things you hated, and you'd still feel so insecure" from "Pretty isn't pretty" captures a profound universal truth about adolescence: the relentless battle with self-acceptance and the negative perceptions we harbor about every aspect of ourselves. In a world where we are surrounded by thousands of beauty standards, the pressure to conform is omnipresent. The "ideal" figures ingrained in social media, advertising, and even our daily interactions—from flawless glass skin to an hourglass body, from muscular to golden skin—both females and males have to suffer from these standards throughout their teenage years to adulthood. I once believed that my worth was associated closely with how I could resemble those sparkling, unattainable images. My journey to find acceptance was exhausting. I would be trying every new skincare routine and product, buying a bunch of trending fashion pieces, and adopting "cool" girls' behaviors just to fit in. I cut down on my favorite food, skip dinners, only eat vegetables, and do exercises for at least one hour per day. Yet, no matter how much effort I put in, the insecurities still linger in the air. I would spend hours standing in front of the mirror, looking at myself. I hate my fat belly, my wide rib cage. I hated my eyes I hated my thin lips. I hate my chubby face. Why am I so obese? Endless negative thoughts like a hurricane, trying to drown me in the deep, dark ocean, it all started with "I hate" followed by my perceived imperfection. Living in a world where we are surrounded by thousands of beauty standards, the pressure to fit into them is everywhere. From the "ideal" figures ingrained in social media and advertising down to even our daily interactions with glass skin, an hourglass body, muscular, golden females and males alike have to endure these growing up from their teenage years into adulthood. However, even when achieving certain standards, the anxiety just does not fade away because it is always the feeling that something is missing. It is difficult to break free from the conditioning, to not give care for external judgment or validation, and to stop thinking that we are not good enough. I can say, with the experiences I have had, that "I got stuck in an endless maze that seemed to have no exit." This line strikes a chord, particularly, because it points toward an essential truth: striving for perfection from the outside is a lost cause. Self-love does not come forth until we learn to see ourselves through a compassionate, understanding lens by focusing on what makes us uniquely different.

As a first-generation student, you are carrying on your parents' dreams and visiting places they were never able to visit. My parents always wanted the best for their cherished children, just like all other decent parents do. They want me to go to college, graduate with honors, have a nine-to-five office job, and earn a solid living so that I won't have to suffer in life.  Both of my parents grew up in the economic recovery era after my country's reunification. Let us start with my father's story first. My father is the oldest child among three brothers; his original plan was to be a travel guide and work for a traveling company in Da Lat, Vietnam. However, he was forced to quit higher education by my grandparents while he was still in high school because, at that time, earning money to buy rice was difficult, let alone money to study. Therefore, he gave up his dream path to work with my grandparents and opened a small retail store in the town.  My mother is luckier than my father; she did graduate high school, but she did not pursue higher education because she had to give the money for her younger brothers to go to college. She started transporting goods to our local market with my mother's side grandma. Because of the environment, my parents have to let aside their dreams and their chances to pursue a higher education and put all of their expectations on me, the oldest child in the family.  Entering the academic world as a first-generation college student has been exhausting and stressful, to say the least. I soon discovered that there were many challenges in higher education that my colleagues, whose families had a history of going to college, would not encounter. First and foremost, it's very fantastic for me to be the first child to attend college because I get to experience things first. On the other hand, no one close to me has "paved the path," which is, in my opinion, the most difficult aspect of being a first-generation college student. In many situations, I have lacked support, a role model to follow, and someone to ask questions of. Although my parents will always be my mentors, I knew they could not give me the best advice when it comes to education. Two sentences I always hear whenever I seek their help are "You can do it!" and "How about asking your peers?". Particularly, it is not wise to ask my colleagues, as we are freshly joined first-year students. Growing up as a first-generation college student taught me to do just about everything myself. From navigating the process of applying to college to fitting into the intellectual expectations in college life, I felt overwhelmed with nervousness quite often. I had to learn how to cut off my high self-esteem by asking teachers, advisors, or other students for support. This approach has taught me the value of establishing connections and gaining support, both of which are essential for success. This would categorize me as a first-generation student, a status that has me forever reconsidering what success is. Growing up in a family that values school above all things, I had always thought that academic performance is the yardstick used to measure one's intelligence and success later in life. I once got bad grades for a semester because I always hung out with friends and procrastinated on my studies; this has become a topic that is always mentioned in my family's meals for a whole week. I was stressed and got into fights with my parents. I told my parents "You didn't know what college taught! You didn't understand; with your perspective, you will never develop a modern mindset!" "You think you are better because you go to college?" My mother growled. Nine words were spoken out of emotion, but they cut my soul deeply. However, I have understood that success depends neither upon academic achievements nor professional titles; true success is grown in our mindset, in our soul, and developed the ability to lift others, which again coincides with my goals of being the nurse who will be a trustworthy listener and ensure that the needs of the patient are met. I also learned that setbacks are not failures, because after that whole month, I found a way to balance between my social life and my academic life. I felt I had grown a lot, as now I view obstacles as chances to learn and evolve.  This aspect of my identity molded me into a more empathetic person. The sacrifice coming from my family and setbacks along the way drove me to want to make a change to create a peaceful life for myself, my family, and future generations.