An experiment involving two jars of rice and two very simple words was all it took for a tidal wave of enlightenment to hit me at the age of eight. The experiment conducted by my eccentric mother was to put rice in two separate mason jars and label one with the word Love and one with the word Hate. By the end of a month, the jar with Hate on it was moldy while the jar with Love stamped on it was unchanged. Now, this at age eight rocked my world. The way I saw it, every word after that moment had a magical characteristic, and anything a word touches transforms the object to reflect its meaning. Even though the experiment lacked any scientific evidence, my view of the world around me had shifted dramatically. Suddenly I was hyper-focused on the words I stick to myself and the people around me. With the new belief that words have a tangible effect, I silently vowed to pick and choose my words carefully. Following this revelation at eight, I went through the ever-so brutal process of puberty, and through it all, this vow helped me to limit the self-depreciation pre-teens have the habit of inflicting upon themselves. I learned that whenever I called myself stupid, or incapable, I was only convincing myself further that that is who I am. On the flip side, once I started fusing positive traits to myself, I felt more capable and intelligent. I am currently in my junior year of high school, and I don't believe I've ever felt so motivated, accomplished, and happy despite the workload and various new pressures surrounding me. Whether words actually change you or if the real change comes from believing they do, that singular rice experiment improved my life forever.

For my parents, success has seemed to always be out of reach. I've witnessed them reach out to a shining diamond-studded dream just to be let down by a lack of success. Despite this, there is not a soul I respect more than my mother, a woman who I have seen bend to unbelievable lengths and shrink and grow herself to accommodate unbelievable circumstances. She has climbed mountains and sailed seas, figuratively and literally. My parents are first-generation immigrants, coming from little towns in Romania to the very heart of northeast US, New York. Being immigrants, we faced common issues such as poverty and a disconnect with a new larger-than-life America. For my mother to take such a risk showed even more character and being a part of the process has helped me cultivate an immense amount of empathy and admiration towards her. Although my mother was always a fantastic parent, witnessing the struggle and heartbreak of the very person meant to provide a solid emotional foundation during my childhood did have its effects, and in a time when I needed it the most, I had stumbled across another adult, who was willing to act as my stable ground, as a parental figure who was there for me and whom I never had to worry for or about. It was my seventh-grade year and I was in a perpetual state of sleep deprivation and grumpiness, as one is in seventh grade. My overall positive demeanor was replaced by a sarcastic and almost gloomy character. I figure it was a mix of going through painfully awkward puberty, a lack of sleep, and the private issues of my home life and parents. I shied away from speaking about my home life, as I felt embarrassed to talk about my financial issues to my peers, and I didn't want to confide in anyone. That was until I got into Mrs. Feigmans math class. Mrs. Feigman was unlike any other teacher I've had before being dry-humored, down-to-earth, and sarcastic without any malice. Out of any adult around me, I felt myself resonate with her the most in a time where I wasn't interested in any sort of a bubbly or cheerful character. I started spending my lunches in her classroom which she let me and a couple of friends invade her lunch break to help around or simply to converse. One topic that would come up often in that room was high school and college. By the time I was starting middle school, I had already realized that I would have to pay for any higher education, a pressure that seemed far too heavy for me at the time. Mrs. Feigman was a realistic thinker and when compared to me at 11, had magical problem-solving abilities. Little by little, she had managed to ease some of my looming burdens until I had a logical and realistic plan to pursue what I had always desired, a higher education. She was not only my teacher and mentor but had become an incredibly wise friend who I hold so much love for. My current academic success is a mosaic of my wonderful teachers who I have had the pleasure of learning from. Teachers such as Mrs. Feigman have the power to influence a student's entire life by showing the confidence and the encouragement kids need to succeed. I will forever be grateful for the people who have helped and guided me to the place I am now and hopefully, this scholarship will be the next step to my academic success!