Walking those hospital corridors day after day left me feeling so alone and afraid, but sometime in the midst of navigating that maze over and over again, I realized that many other kids in that cold, sterile labyrinth were probably enduring that same level of hardship. I never could’ve imagined that processing my grandfather’s near-death experience through art would help others find comfort, but when videos of my artwork began to receive attention on social media, I realized I could utilize my passion to make a profound impact on the lives of others. My artistic journey began with me spending hour upon hour drawing my favorite Disney characters as a little girl. I loved drawing because it energized me and brought a sense of freedom into my life. During middle school, however, I began focusing on other activities, like sports and schoolwork. I started drawing again as a way to pass the time during the COVID-19 lockdowns. This time though, rather than drawing cartoon characters as I had done as a little girl, I gravitated toward drawing people I knew and objects with a level of realism I hadn’t realized I was capable of. A few weeks later, I saw an advertisement in my neighborhood newspaper for Masks for Change, a contest designed to promote the use of masks during the pandemic, and I suddenly became energized by a new motivation: making my community safer. As I sat there that evening sketching a lifelike image of a doctor holding up a mask, my creativity was actively being fueled by something I had never previously experienced while drawing: a sense of purpose. When my design was chosen as the winner, my work was displayed on every street corner, store, and restaurant in my community. My friends, family, and even strangers applauded me for my efforts. That experience set in motion the events that unfolded after my grandfather’s lungs collapsed and he slipped into a coma last summer. I remember feeling so scared as my parents and I prepared to travel to Argentina to be with him. Worse, once we arrived, my hopes were repeatedly raised and then crushed again as the news constantly shifted from him making progress to suffering a setback. After regaining consciousness some weeks later, my grandfather's sense of humor brought temporary relief to us. But whenever I would sit beside him, I could see the fear in his eyes–fear he was trying to protect me from. I picked up my colored pencils and sketchbook again because of my pressing need to express the sense of despair I was feeling as I helplessly watched my grandfather suffer. In one piece, I conveyed a girl’s sorrowful face as she was surrounded by puzzling medical terms, representing my own feelings as I was hearing so many complex explanations for what was happening. Through my art, I wanted to depict how children often feel excluded by adults during medical explanations and symbolize my feelings of loneliness. I was fortunate to discover I have the ability to ease the pain of others through my art. Ultimately, the evolution of my own creative process has empowered me with a deeper sense of purpose that will always motivate me–because connecting with and helping others means more to me than anything else in this world.

Walking those hospital corridors day after day left me feeling so alone and afraid, but sometime in the midst of navigating that maze over and over again, I came to the realization that many other kids in that cold, sterile labyrinth were probably enduring that same level of hardship. I never could’ve imagined that processing my grandfather’s near-death experience through art would help others find comfort, but when videos of my artwork began to receive attention on social media, I realized I could utilize my passion to make a profound impact on the lives of others. My artistic journey began with me spending hour upon hour drawing my favorite Disney characters as a little girl. I loved drawing because it energized me and brought a sense of freedom into my life. During middle school, however, I began focusing on other activities, like sports and schoolwork. That dynamic remained in place until I started drawing again as a way to pass the time during the COVID-19 lockdowns. This time though, rather than drawing cartoon characters as I had done as a little girl, I gravitated toward drawing people I knew and objects I would find throughout my house with a level of realism I hadn’t realized I was capable of. A few weeks later, I saw an advertisement in my neighborhood newspaper for Masks for Change, a contest designed to promote the use of masks during the pandemic, and I suddenly became energized by a new motivation: making my community safer. As I sat there that evening sketching a lifelike image of a doctor holding up a mask, my creativity was actively being fueled by something I had never previously experienced while drawing: a sense of purpose. When my design was chosen as the winner, my work was displayed on every street corner, store, and restaurant in my community. My friends, family, and even strangers applauded me for my efforts. That experience set in motion the events that unfolded after my grandfather’s lungs collapsed and he slipped into a coma last summer. It was shocking to hear my mother tell me he would likely not recover. I remember feeling so scared as my parents and I prepared to travel to Argentina to be with him. Worse, once we arrived, my hopes were repeatedly raised and then crushed again as the news constantly shifted from him making progress to suffering a setback. After regaining consciousness some weeks later, my grandfather's sense of humor brought temporary relief to us. But whenever I would sit beside him, I could see the fear in his eyes–fear he was trying to protect me from. I picked up my colored pencils and sketchbook again because of my pressing need to express the sense of despair I was feeling as I helplessly watched my grandfather suffer. In this piece, I conveyed a girl’s sorrowful face as she was surrounded by puzzling medical terms, representing my own feelings as I was hearing so many complex explanations for what was happening. Through my art, I wanted to depict how children often feel excluded by adults during medical explanations and symbolize my feelings of loneliness. So many times, I was afraid to go into his room because I was afraid I would find his bed empty. I was fortunate to discover I have the ability to ease the pain of others through my art. Ultimately, the evolution of my own creative process has empowered me with a deeper sense of purpose that will always motivate me–because connecting with and helping others means more to me than anything else in this world.

Walking those hospital corridors day after day left me feeling so alone and afraid, but sometime in the midst of navigating that maze over and over again, I came to the realization that many other kids in that cold, sterile labyrinth were probably enduring that same level of hardship. I never could’ve imagined that processing my grandfather’s near-death experience through art would help others find comfort, but when videos of my artwork began to receive attention on social media, I realized I could utilize my passion to make a profound impact on the lives of others. My artistic journey began with me spending hour upon hour drawing my favorite Disney characters as a little girl. I loved drawing because it energized me and brought a sense of freedom into my life. During middle school, however, I began focusing on other activities, like sports and schoolwork. That dynamic remained in place until I started drawing again as a way to pass the time during the COVID-19 lockdowns. This time though, rather than drawing cartoon characters as I had done as a little girl, I gravitated toward drawing people I knew and objects I would find throughout my house with a level of realism I hadn’t realized I was capable of. A few weeks later, I saw an advertisement in my neighborhood newspaper for Masks for Change, a contest designed to promote the use of masks during the pandemic, and I suddenly became energized by a new motivation: making my community safer. As I sat there that evening sketching a lifelike image of a doctor holding up a mask, my creativity was actively being fueled by something I had never previously experienced while drawing: a sense of purpose. When my design was chosen as the winner, my work was displayed on every street corner, store, and restaurant in my community. My friends, family, and even strangers applauded me for my efforts. That experience set in motion the events that unfolded after my grandfather’s lungs collapsed and he slipped into a coma last summer. It was shocking to hear my mother tell me he would likely not recover. I remember feeling so scared as my parents and I prepared to travel to Argentina to be with him. Worse, once we arrived, my hopes were repeatedly raised and then crushed again as the news constantly shifted from him making progress to suffering a setback. After regaining consciousness some weeks later, my grandfather's sense of humor brought temporary relief to us. But whenever I would sit beside him, I could see the fear in his eyes–fear he was trying to protect me from. I picked up my colored pencils and sketchbook again because of my pressing need to express the sense of despair I was feeling as I helplessly watched my grandfather suffer. In this piece, I conveyed a girl’s sorrowful face as she was surrounded by puzzling medical terms, representing my own feelings as I was hearing so many complex explanations for what was happening. Through my art, I wanted to depict how children often feel excluded by adults during medical explanations and symbolize my feelings of loneliness. So many times, I was afraid to go into his room because I was afraid I would find his bed empty. I was fortunate to discover I have the ability to ease the pain of others through my art. Ultimately, the evolution of my own creative process has empowered me with a deeper sense of purpose that will always motivate me–because connecting with and helping others means more to me than anything else in this world.

Walking those hospital corridors day after day left me feeling so alone and afraid, but sometime in the midst of navigating that maze over and over again, I came to the realization that many other kids in that cold, sterile labyrinth were probably enduring that same level of hardship. I never could’ve imagined that processing my grandfather’s near-death experience through art would help others find comfort, but when videos of my artwork began to receive attention on social media, I realized I could utilize my passion to make a profound impact on the lives of others.  My artistic journey began with me spending hour upon hour drawing my favorite Disney characters as a little girl. I loved drawing because it energized me and brought a sense of freedom into my life. During middle school, however, I began focusing on other activities, like sports and schoolwork. That dynamic remained in place until I started drawing again as a way to pass the time during the COVID-19 lockdowns. This time though, rather than drawing cartoon characters as I had done as a little girl, I gravitated toward drawing people I knew and objects I would find throughout my house with a level of realism I hadn’t realized I was capable of.  A few weeks later, I saw an advertisement in my neighborhood newspaper for Masks for Change, a contest designed to promote the use of masks during the pandemic, and I suddenly became energized by a new motivation: making my community safer. As I sat there that evening sketching a lifelike image of a doctor holding up a mask, my creativity was actively being fueled by something I had never previously experienced while drawing: a sense of purpose. When my design was chosen as the winner, my work was displayed on every street corner, store, and restaurant in my community. My friends, family, and even strangers applauded me for my efforts.   That experience set in motion the events that unfolded after my grandfather’s lungs collapsed and he slipped into a coma last summer. It was shocking to hear my mother tell me he would likely not recover. I remember feeling so scared as my parents and I prepared to travel to Argentina to be with him. Worse, once we arrived, my hopes were repeatedly raised and then crushed again as the news constantly shifted from him making progress to suffering a setback. After regaining consciousness some weeks later, my grandfather's sense of humor brought temporary relief to us. But whenever I would sit beside him, I could see the fear in his eyes–fear he was trying to protect me from.  I picked up my colored pencils and sketchbook again because of my pressing need to express the sense of despair I was feeling as I helplessly watched my grandfather suffer. In this piece, I conveyed a girl’s sorrowful face as she was surrounded by puzzling medical terms, representing my own feelings as I was hearing so many complex explanations for what was happening. Through my art, I wanted to depict how children often feel excluded by adults during medical explanations and symbolize my feelings of loneliness. So many times, I was afraid to go into his room because I was afraid I would find his bed empty.  I was fortunate to discover I have the ability to ease the pain of others through my art. Ultimately, the evolution of my own creative process has empowered me with a deeper sense of purpose that will always motivate me–because connecting with and helping others means more to me than anything else in this world.

Before I joined the Health Information Project at my school, complex issues such as gun violence and school shootings seemed insurmountable. As a member of HIP, I am a part of a group of upperclassmen selected to help students improve their physical and emotional wellness by visiting classrooms and giving presentations that encourage meaningful dialogue on topics that are often difficult to approach. Giving lectures as a peer health educator in this program has illuminated the challenges my peers face and has motivated me to become an advocate for students' emotional and mental health.   Before joining HIP, when I saw another school shooting unfold on the news, I relied on adults, like politicians, teachers, or even parents, to find solutions or prevent students from resorting to violence. I had never considered the possibility that my position as a high school student would afford me the best opportunity to help solve these widespread issues. It is well known that students themselves commit the majority of school shootings due to their poor mental health and strong feelings of rejection or insignificance. However, before HIP, I had never noticed that despite a large percentage of students feeling vulnerable, they are ultimately the ones with the most influence and power to help each other and improve these intricate social issues.  When I joined HIP and began speaking on this topic in classrooms, I realized how common it is for students to be conflicted and struggle with their mental health. I was shocked to discover how many students I had passed by every day without realizing they had been feeling isolated and left on their own to find help. During one of the modules I presented, I spoke about gun violence and abuse. When I asked the classroom of quiet first-year students to raise their hands if the thought of a possible school shooting made them anxious to come to school, every student in the room raised their hand. Then, after administering an anonymous survey to the students, I was shocked by the results: 95 percent of them had experienced struggles such as bullying, mental health disorders, or episodes of self-harm. I realized at that moment that because these topics seemed so taboo, there hadn’t been an accessible place for students to comfortably reach out for help, and many of them had been silently suffering.  As the conversation continued, students attentively listened to their peers while waiting for their turns to express themselves. In an effort to combat the negative interpersonal experiences that exacerbate mental health struggles, some students proposed specific strategies, such as performing a different act of kindness toward someone new each day. Many students were also surprised to learn that there are a number of resources available to help them, such as hotlines, websites, and other local organizations. By bringing people together to collaborate in a situation that seems hopeless to resolve, I realized how I can truly be an advocate now and in the future. This shift in perspective has changed the way I view advocacy work–and I have come to realize that being an advocate starts by listening and bringing ideas to the table. I used to think the problems I addressed in HIP seemed too elaborate and overwhelming to manage, but my participation in this club has revealed to me that my peers and I can make a profound difference. Through my dialogues with students, I have played a significant role in creating a safe and supportive environment within our school, while they have also helped me expand my perspective. I plan on applying what I have learned about my interest in advocacy work to my future career plans, and further discover the tremendous personal growth the field of mental health has already provided me.