Navigating depression and self-destructive behaviors was always hard as a young girl, especially with the lack of resources to combat these unfamiliar mental obstacles. I first started facing depression as a young girl at the age of 11, and growing up in a culture that does not believe depression to be a real thing, but rather a case of laziness and complaint, is extremely hard. I could not understand what was going on with me, but most importantly, why no one believed there was something going on with me. From an early age, I found school to be a tool to prove to my family, who did not believe in my struggles, that what I was facing was real. I figured; if I did not try in school, maybe then, they would see my pain to be more than just plain old sloth. I continued on with this mindset until I turned about 16 years old. I was at the lowest of the low, mentally, and academically. At this point I did not believe in any point in attempting to get good grades; "What would they matter if I didn't allow myself to live long enough to graduate?" I thought to myself. But here I am, getting ready to graduate in May of 2025, with a 4.1 gpa. So what changed? How did I change my life around and navigate depression with the scarce resources I had? The beginning of my healing journey began the summer of my sophomore year, my parents were beginning to be sick of my self-destructive and rebellious habits, in which they yet to realize were rooted in the want of attention on my mental well-being. So my parents did what they thought was best for me, which was to send me to spend the summer with my aunt Olga, who lived in Florida. I'm not suggesting that the solution to teenage depression is to send your child out to live with a relative halfway across the country, but for me...it somehow worked. In Florida, my aunt lived possibly the healthiest mental and physical life I have yet to see anyone have. Despite my aunt being a all natural, Christian gardener who I have yet to see ever be angry, she taught me so many important routines in self care. She taught me the importance of religion in one's life, she taught me the role of negative talk and how easily it can ruin your mood, she taught me the importance of taking care of yourself physically and spiritually. All of the important lessons that my aunt taught me, I still implement into my everyday life. Everyday I think, what would Aunty Olga do in this situation? But, what truly healed me with my time with her, is that she believed me. She saw what I had gone through, and she saw it to be real. And truly, that is all I ever needed; a good model of what a healthy lifestyle looked like. Now that I can navigate life with Aunty Olgas teachings, I can help those who are struggling with mental health the most. I plan to go to school for Nursing and specializing in Labor & Delivery. Because just as I believed no one saw me at my lowest, I see how overlooked mental health is in mothers. Truly, there isn't anything in life I want more than to help them, just as my aunty Olga helped me.

Since I was a young girl, I’ve had a deep passion for helping those who struggle with addiction. This passion stems from my personal experience witnessing my father’s battle with alcohol addiction. I view my father as a victim, not because he lacks responsibility, but because addiction is a disease—one that often preys on individuals struggling with mental illness, trauma, or unresolved pain. Growing up, I watched my father face unimaginable challenges. His addiction didn’t just affect him; it cast a shadow over our entire family. He experienced severe mental breakdowns, emotional outbursts, and prolonged periods of depression. One of my earliest memories of his drinking dates back to fourth grade. His job had become overwhelming, and stress pushed him deeper into alcohol use. Day drinking soon became the norm, and the person I knew as my father began to change. I’m not sure if this was the true onset of his addiction or simply the earliest point I could understand it, but the impact was undeniable. In fifth grade, my father entered rehab. At the time, I felt a sense of hope and relief, believing that his struggle would finally come to an end. However, as many people know, recovery is not always linear. The addiction would resurface, and so would my father's pain. One evening, in a moment of vulnerability, he confided in me, his voice slurred and heavy with emotion. He shared the reasons behind his drinking: the lingering trauma from his time in the army and the wounds of a difficult childhood. Hearing those words broke my heart. It was the first time I fully understood that his addiction was more than just a bad habit—it was a response to deep, unresolved pain. That moment solidified my purpose. Since then, I’ve been determined to build a future dedicated to supporting individuals like my father. My goal is to become a Nurse specializing in Substance Abuse. I want to provide care, compassion, and understanding to those battling addiction. Society often judges and stigmatizes people who struggle with substance use, viewing them as weak or morally flawed. I want to change that narrative. As a nurse, I hope to be more than a healthcare provider. I want to be an advocate, a supporter, and a source of hope for my patients. My role will not just be about medical treatment but about empowering individuals on their journey to sobriety. I believe that with empathy, education, and support, people can overcome addiction and reclaim their lives. Helping others achieve freedom from addiction isn’t just my career goal—it’s my life’s mission.

To be transparent, whenever the topic of mental health comes up in a conversation, I often find myself trying to change the subject. I tend to brush it off nonchalantly, as though the topic doesn’t hold much significance to me. Perhaps it’s the heaviness of the subject, or maybe it’s the flood of memories that rush through my mind and scare me away. Either way, I avoid letting others see the struggles I’ve faced with my inner wellness. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s quite the opposite. The topic of mental health means so much to me that facing it head-on in conversations feels like opening old wounds. The vulnerability required to talk about it is something I’m still learning to navigate. The truth is, between the ages of 11 and 12, I discovered that broken glass was sharp enough to turn mental pain into physical pain. From 12 to 13, I learned that my family’s hidden bottles of rum and vodka helped me escape my thoughts, and that my father’s expired antidepressants still worked. At 13 and 14, I found that the girls in the school bathrooms offered me what I thought was the true antidote to a heavy heart; The coughing of smoke, the fleeting high, and the hit of nicotine that hurt just enough to temporarily silence my thoughts. By the time I was 14 or 15, I realized I had a problem, one that ran deep, rooted in childhood tribulations and generational trauma. I came to understand that the ways I had been dealing with my mental battles only worsened my condition. I was slowly dying at such a young age, and I felt trapped in a cycle I didn’t know how to break. For a long time, I thought I was beyond saving. I felt isolated, ashamed, and disconnected from the world around me. Eventually, I sought help. With support and determination, I learned how to navigate my mind and regulate the constant pain I carried. My greatest source of healing came through religion, and without it, I’m not sure I would have survived my four-year-long depressive episode. I learned to lean on faith, to trust in something greater than myself, and to believe in the possibility of recovery. While I still face mental struggles from time to time, I’ve grown in ways that some would find unimaginable. Today, most people who meet me would never guess the kind of person I used to be or the experiences I’ve endured. My personal growth has been so transformative that I now feel a deep calling to help others who face the same struggles I once did—or worse. I’ve discovered my passion for helping people with one of the most overlooked mental health issues in the world: motherhood. Postpartum depression is among the most misunderstood and dismissed mental illnesses, and I’ve made it my life’s mission to serve and support mothers navigating these difficult times as a Labor & Delivery nurse. I firmly believe that it takes someone who has faced their own struggles to truly connect with and empathize with others. I want to build meaningful connections and support women as they experience some of the most intense, traumatic, yet profoundly beautiful moments of their lives. To me, nursing isn’t just a career—it’s a calling to provide care, understanding, and hope to those who need it most.

To be transparent, whenever the topic of mental health comes up in a conversation, I often find myself trying to change the subject. I tend to brush it off nonchalantly, as though the topic doesn’t hold much significance to me. Perhaps it’s the heaviness of the subject, or maybe it’s the flood of memories that rush through my mind and scare me away. Either way, I avoid letting others see the struggles I’ve faced with my inner wellness. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s quite the opposite. The topic of mental health means so much to me that facing it head-on in conversations feels like opening old wounds. The vulnerability required to talk about it is something I’m still learning to navigate. The truth is, between the ages of 11 and 12, I discovered that broken glass was sharp enough to turn mental pain into physical pain. From 12 to 13, I learned that my family’s hidden bottles of rum and vodka helped me escape my thoughts, and that my father’s expired antidepressants still worked. At 13 and 14, I found that the girls in the school bathrooms offered me what I thought was the true antidote to a heavy heart; The coughing of smoke, the fleeting high, and the hit of nicotine that hurt just enough to temporarily silence my thoughts. By the time I was 14 or 15, I realized I had a problem, one that ran deep, rooted in childhood tribulations and generational trauma. I came to understand that the ways I had been dealing with my mental battles only worsened my condition. I was slowly dying at such a young age, and I felt trapped in a cycle I didn’t know how to break. For a long time, I thought I was beyond saving. I felt isolated, ashamed, and disconnected from the world around me. Eventually, I sought help. With support and determination, I learned how to navigate my mind and regulate the constant pain I carried. My greatest source of healing came through religion, and without it, I’m not sure I would have survived my four-year-long depressive episode. I learned to lean on faith, to trust in something greater than myself, and to believe in the possibility of recovery. While I still face mental struggles from time to time, I’ve grown in ways that some would find unimaginable. Today, most people who meet me would never guess the kind of person I used to be or the experiences I’ve endured. My personal growth has been so transformative that I now feel a deep calling to help others who face the same struggles I once did—or worse. I’ve discovered my passion for helping people with one of the most overlooked mental health issues in the world: motherhood. Postpartum depression is among the most misunderstood and dismissed mental illnesses, and I’ve made it my life’s mission to serve and support mothers navigating these difficult times as a Labor & Delivery nurse. I firmly believe that it takes someone who has faced their own struggles to truly connect with and empathize with others. I want to build meaningful connections and support women as they experience some of the most intense, traumatic, yet profoundly beautiful moments of their lives. To me, nursing isn’t just a career—it’s a calling to provide care, understanding, and hope to those who need it most.

My year so far would be have one song as its soundtrack, and that would be Style (Taylors Version). This song perfectly embodies what it feels like to be a teenage girl, in her last year of high school. Ive always heard this song throughout my childhood, and something about hearing it again as a teenager, something I had wished to be so long, is cathartic. The song start off with a instrumental build up, and this sound feels like how it feels like to be a nervous teenage girl. The build up resembles the unsureness of life, just as you are unsure of what the sound is going to build up to. Because as a teenage girl, the future is nothing more but a scary mystery, but that only enhances the feeling of knowing the scarcity of how good your life is right now. The song then leads into Taylor Swift singing melodies that sound as if they are echoed in a way, and to me, this is exactly what it feels like to be driving around your town blasting music at night. Somehow, this perfectly embodies the feeling of freedom as a teenage girl, because at this age the most freedom we get is being able to drive around town endlessly with our friends. The song continues into a chorus, which is loud and catchy, this perfectly embodies the simple fun it is to be a teenage girl. Being a teenage girl is to be reckless, outgoing, freeing and this loud chorus feels like what it is be to hanging out with a large group of friends, knowing you will never hang out with them again after highschool. It feels like talking to strangers at a highschool football game, like the cheers from the crowd when the football team is winning, like the realization that you don't really understand football but just go for the environment. In general, this song perfectly resembles all the ugly and pretty parts of being a teenager, and how it is exactly what I had imagined when I was a little girl. And looking back at that little girl and telling her she had made it, she made it to the nerve wracking moments, the moments of growing up that make her cry. She made it to the liberating moments, the moments when she feels as if she is on top of the world and no one can stop her. She made it to the fun moments, the moments where she laughs so hard her chest starts to hurt. But most importantly, telling that little girl who is so curious about the future that she deserves experiences this teenage dream just as everyone else does, she is worthy.

The first time I had ever been exposed to someone who was struggling with mental health was in 5th grade, when one of my closest friends Evie had been self harming. I would write and swap letters with her to talk about her feelings, because I knew sometimes things were easier to write than to say out loud. Eventually I had told an adult about her suicidal thoughts and self harming habits, and the reaction that I received from the school admin made me finally realize the severity of the situation. She had been struggling with mental health at such a young age, we were still little kids. Throughout my upbringing this became the norm, the normalization of kids struggling with mental health overtook my schools and it came to a point that this was no longer seen as a alarming issue. Sadly, the main lesson I learned through trying to help numerous friends is that you cant truly help anyone, you cant take the blade away from their skin, and mostly you cant convince them that their life is worth living. All you are really capable of doing is making them feel seen, giving them and what their going through a moment of recognition. In my future career, I want to help bring light to the most overlooked victims of mental health; Mothers. I want to get a degree in Nursing, and specialize in Labor & Delivery, to help care for and recognize mothers who are going through a multiple of struggle both physically and mentally. PostPartum Depression is one of the most misunderstood cases when looking at mental illness. The mental health of mothers is what the foundation of a home is built upon, without their well-being, families with struggle as a whole.

Anahi Vasquez Aserina Hill Memorial Scholarship 29 October 2024 Through all of my time in school and extracurricular activities, I've noticed that people really only desire one thing; support. I've done many different clubs throughout the past two years, in search of a direction for my life, in this time I've found joy in being involved with my school. Some of these clubs include Colorado Youth in Congress and FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athlethes), and I've even gained some leadership roles, including Vice President of FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America), Social Media Manager of DECA (Distributive Education Clubs of America) & the Environmental Club. But out of all these clubs and the volunteering I did for them, I do have a specific time that gave me true direction for my future, this was the time I volunteered for Cat Tail Christmas for my FBLA chapter. Cattail Christmas is an annual event my school holds for the community, that has fun activities for kids to come and enjoy, to help get in the holiday spirit. I found Cattail Christmas so monumental for my future goals because that was my first exposure to my love for children and babies. This is why I now want to go to school for Nursing and specialize in Labor & Delivery. I want to offer mothers and babies my support the same way I've offered my community my support. Because of my love for children, if I were to start my own charity, it would be a charity to support low-income struggling families, prioritizing the children. Our mission; Every child deserves an equal opportunity in life, and an equal amount of support, so our charity would strive to provide financial support for these children in low-income families in ways such as health care, food supply, and clothing supply. Volunteers for my charity would have to perform acts such as helping distribute food to these families, helping out with clothing drives, and conducting fundraisers to provide these children with better healthcare prices. And hopefully, with my potential charity, and future career, I can help support and uplift the lives of those who deserve to experience life for its goodness, and not have to worry about financial issues such as, what they can and can’t afford. Because I know too many people who have had to go through these struggles and burdens. I witnessed my parents and grandparents face these hardships, and I believe that I as a person should use the resources my family made sacrificed to give me, to make a better future for families who are struggling. Because no child, nor parent should ever have to worry about where their next meal is coming from, if they can afford those winter clothes, or if they can afford that doctor visit.

In my early years of high school I was extremely troubled, you would find me sleeping in my classes, sneaking out, and not having a care in the world about my future. It seemed that trouble just kept finding me, and if I got in trouble with my parents just one more time, I think I would physically feel the weight of my burden crush me whole. This time was one of the darkest times of my life. My parents had enough of me, they were going to send me to spend time with my aunty Olga, who lived in Florida for a few weeks, and maybe the different climate and home would force me to get my act together. The Alexander family (My aunt & Uncle) are the head of Port St. Joe Baptist church over there in Florida, and around the time that I had been sent to go over there, was also the time that the church took their annual trip to SnowBird Wilderness Outfitters, a large christian camp located in Andrews, NC. I had a repellent mindset for the first part of the trip. “I'm just going to spend my time here to get away from my parents disappointment” I told myself, telling myself this trip was nothing more than an escape from my reality, little did I know that this trip would alter my life. It must've been on Wednesday, that I went on a hike through the great smokey mountains. About a two hour hike, I felt my legs fire up and my shoes get dirtier by the second, but my eyes did not glimpse downward, because what laid in front of me was a sight that I could not unsee. I viewed the ridges and valleys of trees, the green hues blending within each other. How was it possible that I had been in this space for so long and hadn't seen it for its true beauty? In that moment I had realized that there was so much more in the world than I had known, that the world was so much bigger than me. It was bigger than my problems, bigger than my rebellion. For so long I had been fighting with the world, but the view of the world told me that the only one I was fighting was myself. The trees told me to keep enduring hardship strongly, just as they had through the decades of storms. The sun had told me to never stop shining light upon the beauty I see in this world, just as it had shined upon the beautiful view. Truly, this is what I had been missing. As much as I hate to admit it, my parents were right. That trip had in fact changed me. I have made a complete 360 change in my life, and believe that if the mountains can recognize and call themselves beautiful, I can now call myself an overall good kid. And that is all I've ever wanted to be able to do.

Anahi Vasquez Women in STEM Scholarship 26th September 2024 I spent the past 5 years trying to grasp onto my life, not allowing it to slip away from me. Because if it had slipped one bit, I would have lost it. That is how fragile my life was, because of my mental health and home issues. My hands gained a strength so strong, that the splinters and bruises on them no longer bleed from latching on so hard. I am no longer holding on for my life, I can now hold my life on the tip of my fingertip, with no fear or worries. I knew that after years of gaining such strength, I wanted a career in something that resembles this same strength. I envision myself in the future, when I will be able to reflect on my past decisions following up my career and be grateful for the specialization I had picked; Labor & Delivery. It is 2029, and I am in my scrubs at 5 a.m. on my way to work, I have a coffee in one cup holder and my water bottle in the next, and the air is so crisp and chilling that as soon as I walk out of my car it feels as if my body is the only sense of heat that exists. May that heat develop into thermal energy and supply my body with the energy I will need for my upcoming 12-hour shift, and maybe 13-14 depending on the patients and day. I do not walk into the hospital with an apathetic attitude, for what good will that do for the next 12 hours of my day, and most importantly what good will that do for my patients? ` Labor & Delivery opens the canvas of all aspects of the process of life. Taking care of newborn life, stimulating their health to their full potential, and even more rewarding; taking care of the amazing mothers of whom don't get enough credit for their strength. With the anatomical beauty of birth and all the women who partake in helping this process, womanhood is strongest at this moment. My job will be a reward for all the strength and resilience I have been forced to have throughout my life. I will see this strength that brought me to my position all around me, I will see this strength in the mothers, facing severe pain, yet still gracefully being. I will see this strength when they cry, cathartic tears when they finally meet face-to-face with their child. I will see this strength in their babies. Their first seconds being within this dangerous and cold world, a world that will hurt them in all aspects possible, yet here they are, surviving to their best ability. How strong they all are. This strength is so present in that delivery room, it bounces off the walls and produces love. Love for the wounded mother, love for the new father, love for the delicate baby, love from all of their family, and so much love from me and my co-workers. I will love my job, just as that room will love the mother and her baby.

Anahi Vasquez Sheila A. Burke Memorial Scholarship What is your vision for yourself as a nurse in the future? 19 Sept 2024 It is 2029, and I am in my scrubs at 5 a.m. on my way to work, I have a coffee in one cup holder and my water bottle in the next, and the air is so crisp and chilling that as soon as I walk out of my car it feels as if my body is the only sense of heat that exists. May that heat develop into thermal energy and supply my body with the energy I will need for my upcoming 12-hour shift, and maybe 13-14 depending on the patients and day. I do not walk into the hospital with an apathetic attitude, for what good will that do for the next 12 hours of my day, and most importantly what good will that do for my patients? At that moment, I will reflect on my past decisions following up my career and be grateful for the specialization I had picked; Labor & Delivery. ` Labor & Delivery opens the canvas of all aspects of the process of life. Taking care of newborn life, stimulating their health to their full potential, and even more rewarding; taking care of the amazing mothers of whom don't get enough credit for their strength. With the anatomical beauty of birth and all the women who partake in helping this process, womanhood is strongest at this moment. My job will be a reward for all the strength and resilience I have been forced to have throughout my life. I will see this strength that brought me to my position all around me, I will see this strength in the mothers, facing severe pain, yet still gracefully being. I will see this strength when they cry, cathartic tears when they finally meet face-to-face with their child. I will see this strength in their babies. Their first seconds being within this dangerous and cold world, a world that will hurt them in all aspects possible, yet here they are, surviving to their best ability. How strong they all are. This strength is so present in that delivery room, it bounces off the walls and produces love. Love for the wounded mother, love for the new father, love for the delicate baby, love from all of their family, and so much love from me and my co-workers. I will love my job, just as that room will love the mother and her baby.