Drawing from personal experience, navigating life as a transgender individual has proven to be an arduous journey, with daily reminders of the challenges I face. As a transgender man, I consciously opt not to disclose my trans identity to new acquaintances, yearning for them to perceive me simply as a cisgender male. Having undergone four years of testosterone therapy and a transformative top surgery just over a year ago, the struggle of being transgender within educational settings persists. I am aware that openly embracing my trans identity would subject me to scrutiny from some academic peers and individuals of scholarly standing. My experiences since ninth grade have involved relentless harassment, intentional misgendering, and menacing threats from fellow students. When I sought support from my school counselor, instead of intervening or addressing the behavior of my peers, I was confined to changing in a concealed locker room and restricted to using the nurse's office for restroom visits. The elongated bathroom breaks were imminent since having to walk the entire school premises to get to my secret bathroom often resulted in missed valuable class information. Some teachers failed to offer adequate assistance, willfully turning a blind eye to the bullying I endured, while a few even refrained from aiding me purely based on my transgender identity. Consequently, I find myself compelled to conceal my transgender identity, a saddening necessity borne out of the treatment I have endured. Nonetheless, I persist in my pursuit of education, keeping this integral facet of my life and identity hidden. As a student of history, my profound passion lies in the study of American history, immersing myself in the accounts of pivotal events and individuals who have indelibly shaped the nation, for better or worse. Given my affiliation with the LGBTQ+ community, I feel a deep kinship with the history of marginalized groups, which is regrettably underrepresented or often overlooked altogether. Armed with a bachelor's degree in history and an imminent master's degree, my fervent aspiration is to bring about a change in historical education. I am driven by an unwavering commitment to serve and uplift my community, aspiring to assume the role of a curator at a museum, where I can establish a dedicated section on LGBTQ+ history. Through this curated space, my goal is to educate cisgender and heterosexual individuals and instill a sense of significance and recognition among LGBTQ+ individuals, while empowering young or closeted individuals to realize their potential to effect change and embrace their authentic selves. Above all, I aim to demonstrate unequivocally that our presence as LGBTQ+ individuals is both immutable and significant, impervious to any attempts at erasure.

Give me history, or give me death! While this slightly-tweaked quote seems absurd, it speaks some truth. Learning about history is fundamental. As I see it, if we do not learn about our past, we are doomed to repeat it. It's been proven time and time again. Because of this, I have decided to pursue my life in teaching and creating history. Let's take a look back at my history first. Much like Mr. Joseph Lowe, I was involved in Civil War history at a very young age. As a child, I re-enacted the Civil War on multiple battlefields and Civil War towns. I was on the Union side at places such as Gettysburg, Manassas, Ellicott City, and Cedar Creek. At that moment, I disliked it. The hot tents, no showers, having to use a Porta-Potty that was very far from camp, eating Civil War style hardtack (would not recommend trying), no electronics, and wearing ugly, uncomfortable clothing. Funnily enough, though, while I did dread re-enactment sometimes, it definitely grew my love for American history. I learned a lot more about the Civil War than the average kid, fueling me to want to learn more about our history. Since then, I have loved learning history and politics. My favorite history to learn about is American history, specifically from the formation of our government to today (about 1700s-present), but all history intrigues me. In fact, when I was in high school, I took just about every history elective there was to take. I was a history buff, and still do hold that title. For proof, my bookshelf is covered in history books from anything about former presidents to the Japanese internment camps to civil rights leaders. However, hiding this knowledge about history that I wield would not be useful. So, just like Mr. Joseph Lowe, I dream to spread my knowledge. My dream is to work at the National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. I remember when I was little, I went to Washington D.C. a couple of times. This museum was always fantastic, and you could spend days on each floor. The exhibits are designed so beautifully, too. My current favorites are the political campaign exhibit and the first lady exhibit. When I work there, though, I hope to be able to curate some of the museum's exhibits. I too am a big fan of animals and protecting them. An idea that I have is an exhibit on the first pets! They're actually more interesting than you'd think. I also hope to update exhibits with events I experienced first-hand. The first time having a Black president, school shootings, COVID-19, Obergefell v. Hodges, and Dobbs v. Jackson, to name a few. In order to do that, though, I have to study history a lot, at least up to a master's degree. In the end, though, I know it will all be worth it. I want to be able to do what I love and teach a new generation (or even my generation) about history. I would like to be a museum curator, inspiring people to go out and learn. At the end of the day, I strive to question, learn, and educate, leaving a legacy on many, just as Mr. Joseph Lowe did.

For my whole life, I was seen as different, shunned by my peers, spending a lot of time alone with no friends, and feeling miserable. Despite changing this perception of myself being the weird kid, I will always embrace my quirkiness and weirdness because that's me. Without it, I wouldn't be here today. Despite what others believe how I should be, I am proud to say who I am is not normal, and that's okay. I am a transgender gay man who was never into any sports like the rest of my peers. I found it difficult and not fun. I'd much rather spend time doodling, playing video games, talking about politics, or relaxing with my pets. Many people, especially in middle school, found me being different as weird and gross. Oftentimes, I would get up in front of the class, and my anxiety would sink in to the point where I couldn't breathe. I was always the brunt of the jokes in class as people would say that they love me in a mocking way in order to get their friends to laugh. I even vividly remember getting thrown against lockers for looking different, being a very skinny guy with dyed hair. Never did these situations make me change who I really am. I stand by being who you truly are, as long as it does not hurt you or others. If you're unique, you might as well use it for good. I have created groups online and offline for people like me who feel alone and may be considered weird. I've protested for minorities who may not have had a voice available to them, so I used my voice. I continuously prove to the world that my uniqueness is something to cherish. In the future, I hope to create an impact on my community by running for office to represent people like me. Too often have we seen politicians in local, state, and federal branches that just don't represent the outcasts. Rather, it's some old, straight, and cis white guy who would never listen to anyone who is different from him. I want to be that change. I want to continuously impress myself and the world with who I am. I hope that someday, some child who was feeling just as down and depressed as I was for being different sees me. I hope they're able to say, "He's like me. I want to be like him when I grow up." That's will grant me satisfaction. Until that day, I will continue to express my loving, quirky, and unique personality, in hopes of making everyone around me a little happier by just being me. Unique people are the ones who change the world. Every notable person who made a major impact for good on the world has uniqueness within them. Why suppress this uniqueness when I can use it to my advantage, changing people's perceptions of life and the world around us?

I remember being pulled aside as police officers came into my house. I was planning on killing myself. I was in 7th grade at the time and felt horrid. Not only was I going through struggles many middle schoolers go through, but I also had to grasp the fact that I am LGBT+. I was alone and in the dark. I didn't have many friends, as I have always been different and expressive of who I am. Many of my peers did not like this, since I didn't really conform to the regular middle school kid. I would get pushed into lockers, called slurs, and laughed at no matter where I went. As I transferred into high school, people became more accepting, but still had a long way to go. I remember being fearful of going to school, as upper-classmen threatened me that they were going to beat me up for being transgender. I vividly remember the day when I nervously shook my leg and watched the classroom door, hoping it wouldn't happen. Luckily, I wasn't beaten up that time. As I went through high school, I made friends who I genuinely believed liked me as a person. Sure, some did. One day, I was told that my "friends" said how they wish all gay people were back in the Holocaust, referring to me and another openly gay student at my school. Hearing this, knowing that my friends either agreed or didn't stand up for me hurt my heart. Sadly for me, this would not be the end. I had an ex in school who would refer to me as his girlfriend, even though I'm a trans man. Soon, many people started outing me and purposefully using the wrong pronouns; something that I was sadly not new to. However, I persevered. People continuously enlightened themselves by talking to me and realizing I'm not some scary monster, and that I'm actually pretty down-to-Earth. This was proven by that I was chosen to be on the homecoming court running for homecoming king. I was ecstatic and honestly very surprised. It wasn't too long for other guys who were also chosen to start talking about me behind my back to their friends, saying, "Why are there five guys and one bitch", referring to me. I found out that due to this, people banded together to stop me from winning, as they didn't want to see a transgender man get the crown. I ended up getting second place, although many students said it was rigged and I should've won. Like I've said earlier though, I'm not new to this discrimination. This happens often, people choose cis men to win competitions, even something as stupid as beauty competitions, despite the audiences' votes. Dealing with depression on top of being an LGBTQ+ identifying student in a close-minded town was difficult, but I believe it built some grit in me. I now try to foster a comfortable environment for all, especially high schoolers who remind me of my younger self. At the end of the day, I use what I have gone through to help others, and I am proud to say that.