My mother immigrated here from russia with her now ex husband without knowing english and leaving behind her wildly successful acting career. When I was four my father cheated on her and left us, but more importantly he left her with two children and no income. My mother went back to school and worker harder than I have ever seen anyone work. She balanced working, being a straight A student in a language she barely knew and my brother and I as well. She is now a nurse and barely makes any money and I work to support myself and her. My mother has never once given up or flattered in her path; she has exceeded everyone’s expectations and continues to shock everyone with everything she does. She showed me that even rough times shouldn’t bring you down and that you need to rely on yourself. Growing up and watching her made me so proud of being her daughter and wanting to grow up strong and independent just like her. She never gave me any idea that I couldn’t be exactly who I wanted to be. She somehow found ways to go through all this and yet also have time and money to take me to ballet, and gymnastics and basketball and anything else I wanted to pursue. It is because of her that I have become who I am. Anytime I think of giving up in school or quitting a job because it’s hard I think about all the effort she has put in to get me there. I work hard in school and my jobs and give her as much as I can. I want to work even harder to give her everything she deserves and eventually retire her. She is working harder than ever now that her mother has cancer and her family is also in a war in russia right now. No matter how hard I work I can never keep up with her, she is resilient. I want to achieve great things to be able to show her what she has worked so hard for. I am independent because of her, I am strong and hardworking and determined because of her. Everything I have done and will continue to do is because of her. She built our home and family from nothing and I intend to give her everything after I get out of school. I can only hope that my children will see me the way I see my mother and I hope I can teach my children the same values.

My sophomore year of high school was the darkest time of my life. I had already been smoking nicotine and marijuana since 8th grade to try and ease the pain I had been in for years, and someone had offered me a Xanax at a party I went to, not caring much about life at that point, I accepted it and with that had unknowingly almost ruined my entire life. Along with depression I had, and also still do have, severe general anxiety and I thought taking this pill would at the very least make me feel a little better for a small period. After I took it I was hooked, I wanted to feel like that all the time. I was overweight, I was bullied, I had a bad home life and came from a very very low-income single-parent family; at that time in my life there was nothing I wanted to do more than feel at ease and okay. I had a job but I would spend most of my paycheck each week buying more pills and pot. I would take any opportunity to be high. I was high throughout school, sometimes I would go to the bathroom to take more pills, I always had a little bit in my system at work and I would smoke so much before bed that I would simply pass out instead of falling asleep. I didn't want to do anything and every time I got sober I would just feel worse so I kept taking more. My mom had had many surgeries that year and the year before and she had many bottles of different types of painkillers and I would sneak in and take them without even looking most times. I just didn't want to feel anything. I stopped answering the phone because I was always high, I started stealing money from my mom and my friends, I quit my afterschool clubs and lacrosse and started failing classes. I ruined my GPA, my relationships, and my sophomore year. At the end of the year when I saw I had failed algebra 2, it was a wake-up call. I had never failed a class in my entire life, I had always been an amazing student. My GPA went all the way down to 0.50 and my teachers and counselors expressed their worries many times already. That summer I asked my best friend for help. He helped me through my withdrawals, tutored me for my online summer class, and he helped me sign up for therapy and find a better-paying job. I slowly collected all the money I had stolen from my mom and gave it back as well as my friends. In my junior year I joined more clubs and took up sports again, I worked hard and got all A's and built the possibilities of having a future again. Now I am a freshman in college, I have all A's, I live in an apartment with my three friends, I have a good job and I am on track to graduate early with a high chance of getting into the law school of my dreams. Although I don't speak to him anymore, I am forever grateful to my friend for helping me turn my life back around.

I started playing lacrosse in 8th grade. I have played basketball, ballet, tennis, gymnastics, volleyball, and swimming and yet I never really loved a sport as much as I did lacrosse. In my freshman year of high school, I went to a science-based academic school away from everyone I grew up with and the worst part was that the school had no sports and no clubs. I am from an extremely low-income single-parent household so I couldn't afford to join most of the clubs in Miami and I couldn't join a travel team because I was always working to support my family. The high school I would end up transferring to my sophomore year allowed me to join their girl's team for preseason and even try out for the team. Although I did not make the team that year, the coaches allowed me to participate in practice throughout the season nonetheless. This probably saved my life. I have always struggled with mental health and still do, but being outside and moving, and doing something I am passionate about helped me so much and I became part of a team. They became my best friends and my support system, they made sure I never got discouraged or gave up just because I didn't make the team. Being able to go to practices not only helped me personally but forced me to work harder in school. Because I still had to work to support my family, I had to do extra well in school or else I would have to take myself out of the sport to focus on my grades. It created a structure in my life and forced my work ethic to increase. That season and the following summer I trained harder than I knew I could, I made my guy friends (who were awarded players from the all-boys school) come out and teach me and practice with me every weekend and I went out every day, alone if I had to. The sport gave me so much and taught me how to rely on other people and ask for help. In my sophomore year, I went in strong and gave it my all during the preseason and made the team, but my excitement was short-lived because covid hit and everything came to a halt. I refused to give up, I bought a rebound net and a goal and practiced at home, when it was safe I went to parks with one or two people. Junior year I made the team again and was made captain of the JV team because I understood the importance of perseverance and hard work. I wanted to inspire these young girls to be as passionate as I am. Throughout my junior year, I played as a goalie on the JV team and coached them while I played defense for the varsity team and doubled my practice time each day. This forced me to work even harder in school and taught me responsibility and time management. Over the next summer, I would help teach little kids in my neighborhood to play lacrosse and love it. When senior year started my family was struggling more than ever and I had to start working two jobs which meant I had to let go of lacrosse, but I refused to have it not be a part of my life. I fought my way into being the team manager for the boy's team at my school and loved every second of it. Lacrosse shaped my habits, my schedule, my work ethic and overall, my life.

"how lucky are we to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." I can not remember where I had heard this quote from, yet I never forgot it. To me, connection with people was always such a vital experience. I was never close with my mom as she was working always and my dad left when I was four and was a chronic people pleaser. Getting real friends was a struggle to me and I took attachments very seriously. Summer camp was a place where you could become so close yet have no expectations of the connections to be kept alive to a certain point. I have had many best friends, yet most do not stay over 2 years tops, it's a cycle. Yet I have one friends who has been with me since summer of 5th grade and now we are seniors. He moved across the country beginning of freshman year and I have not seen him in almost 5 years coming up yet we never lost touch. I was so lucky to have him in the first place which made the move so hard for the both of us; we were so lucky to have what we did. If the leaving of a person or an experience is hard, you were lucky that you were able to have something so good that can make it feel so hard. Many times, the goodbye say the most. If the goodbye tears you apart and you dread it, that means what you had or have right now is so amazing and you should feel grateful. I was so lucky to have him here with me and the goodbye broke our hearts, but nothing changed and I will see him again soon. Perhaps the second goodbye will be just as hard.

Living in America in this time in history has opened up the many ugly lies that are promised by the country. Just because we are a diverse country does not mean we are all treated how we should be. Going to a public high school, along with having foreign friends and family, has had me interact with numerous amounts of different people. The following events of the past two years and moving forward still, the events of violence and hate against everyone from Native Americans, Asians, African Americans, LGBTQ persons and women as well have been appalling and at times disheartening. With most of my friends being of an ethnicity or orientation of some kind that differs from being a straight white citizen, many of my closest friends have been attacked verbally or physically as well as myself. Being white gives me an advantage but being a women and part of the LGBTQ does not and it can be hard to not feel powerless. As our friends and ones alike are cracked down by ignorant people, restrictive laws and unjust occurrences in the world, protests, yelling and petition signing does not calm the fire of angst and anger we feel. In the world of reality, the power or friendship, perseverance and hard work are not a magic key to help us win. The end of the struggle is not yet in sight but the tables have begun to turn. Standing in a crowd of people, chanting for justice or rights while having tear gas thrown at us and hiding our face and running will never not be scary but it will always be worth it. I will march in a hundred protests and argue with a hundred opponents in the classroom and stick up for people a hundred times more if it means it will help all of us get closer to being equal, safe and happy.

Just because the progression for women and their equal standing in society has begun does not mean it is enough. There are still so many small ways women are broken down and held back from the beginning. As a high school student, and one that holds positions in student government, top rankings in classrooms and on the board of many clubs, I see how young woman are always given excuses for bad behavior or their place is decided before they even try. Whereas for young men, the excuses given are to excuse rash and rude behavior, even when detrimental to other. The biggest problem I have is with the phrase "boys will be boys". I believe that correct wording and consequences can go a long way in shaping both you women and men. The reactions given to accomplishments vary wildly because it is the "norm", yet countless times it has been proven wrong. In todays climate the new wave from boy is that "it's not all men", yes I agree yet us women have heard since the beginning of our lives that 'all' women are emotional, and 'all' women are fragile or not able to just because we are women. The power of speech has long put us into boxes and if teachers, parents, doctors, friends, and all were to watch more carefully how we react to situations or address ordeals then we can raise more confident women. Because we have always been as capable and hardworking, but with the ability to no be criticized, mansplained to, or hassled, we could do much more.