From early childhood, I knew that I was different. When my friends played “house” at recess, I was always the dad. When I was cast as a male lead in a show at school, I would feel elated in a way that I couldn’t quite explain. I loved attending my brothers’ scouting trips but refused to join Girl Scouts because proudly claiming girlhood didn’t feel right. When I came out as a transgender man in the Fall of my sophomore year of college, no one was surprised. My friends had watched me find myself through our rehearsals of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” trying out new pronouns during our introduction circles and proudly wearing my binder under a fishnet top on stage. By the end of “Rocky,” I had come out as Dan and used he/him pronouns exclusively. Between semesters, I changed my name in my university’s system and began hormone therapy, allowing me to live my sophomore spring as my authentic self, out at school for the first time. Fortunately, my university is on the cutting edge of diversity and inclusion practices. I changed my name in most school systems before having a court-ordered name change and established a safe living situation for next Fall without any pushback. However, despite the safeguards of my liberal arts school, I still find myself worrying about my safety while walking across campus. I unconsciously pull my shirt away from my chest to keep it from clinging to my bound chest, avoid eye contact with strangers, and remove my trans flag pins from my backpack to keep myself “un-clockable.” Trans people, primarily trans women, are depicted by the media as frauds who deceive people into believing they are a different gender to abuse children. We are portrayed as groomers, pedophiles, killers, rapists, and misogynists. We can no longer use the public bathroom in some states because we have been deemed a threat to the rest of society. Presenting as your affirmed gender in public can get you arrested in several states thanks to new “drag bans” — a trans woman in Montana was told she couldn’t speak at a public library due to the ban on drag performances. It is no wonder I do not feel safe on my school campus, even with all my rights firmly in place. It’s partially because of the attacks on trans and queer Americans that I have decided to study Political Science and Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. After receiving my Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, I hope to pursue a Ph.D. in Public Policy and Public Administration and perhaps a law degree. I want to use my education to work in our federal government to ensure that the rights of every American are upheld and to reaffirm that trans people belong everywhere: in public bathrooms, in libraries, in our military, on the Supreme Court, in Congress, and in the White House. Trans rights are human rights. We deserve to live full lives. We deserve to live without fear of bodily harm or death. We are here, and we will not be silenced.

A beast lives inside of me, Bearing its claws as it Crawls up from the Depths of my soul. Every day, it feasts on my Fears – grabs at my despair and Grows larger with each thought it consumes, Hollowing my body from the Inside out. Judgment powers its hunt, Killing every piece of hope that Lives within my chest; Malice motivates its dangerous dance. Nausea snakes up my body, Occupying my thoughts. Secrets from my Past haunt my every waking minute. The Queerness in my body is its fuel, a Recognition of the ebb and flow of identity, Stifling pain underneath celebration. The beast knows that this celebration is Useless, that the pain it feasts on is still there, Viciously waiting to strike at a time when it is least desired. While I celebrate the person I know I am, the Xanax helps to quiet down the Yelling inside my overworked mind. The Zealot inside me will die with my fears as my mind and body become one.

My name is Abby and I have been a Type 1 Diabetic for almost 13 years. I am a first-year student in college studying Political Science with a concentration in Public Policy and Law. When I was six years old, I went to my annual physical with my mother and was told that they found sugar in my urine during a routine test. My blood sugar was in the 400s. I was rushed to Boston Children’s Hospital and was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. Since that fateful day almost 13-years ago, I have been dependent on manufactured insulin to survive, something that would cost me tens of thousands of dollars a year if I didn’t have insurance — which is the reality for a lot of Diabetics. The lack of affordable Insulin was a big motivator for me to major in Political Science. We have to stop letting Big Pharma run around unchecked. I have always wanted to make a difference in our world. Whether it be eradicating world hunger or just aiding the less fortunate all around me, the idea of helping others has always appealed to me. For the three years following my diagnosis with Type 1 Diabetes in 2009, my family participated in the JDRF's "Walk For A Cure" around Boston. I loved knowing that I was part of something that could help change the lives of Diabetics like me. With my degree in political science, I hope that I will have an opportunity to advocate for Diabetics who desperately need change -- especially Type 1 Diabetics, who are often forgotten about in the medical field and are the butt of everyone's jokes about "eating too much sugar" or "just needing to eat more broccoli" to cure yourself. My goal is to achieve a work where insulin is accessible and affordable for everyone, no matter your financial situation. With my degree in political science, I want to work to make the world better for Diabetics.

I was born into a white, middle-class family. I never worried about where the food on my table came from. I never worried about being attacked because of the color of my skin. I always knew that I was privileged, but as a queer disabled woman, it was hard for me to admit that. What I know now is that being racially privileged doesn’t mean that my life hasn’t been hard, it means that my race hasn’t made it harder. My privilege became incredibly evident to me following the Charleston church shooting; the deaths of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and dozens of other unarmed Black people; and the uptick in white people who got up-in-arms about teaching real history, such as through the 1619 Project. I decided that enough was enough: I needed to educate myself on how I could speak with other white people to teach them the importance of Black history and the beauty and importance of Black lives. In the winter of 2020 into 2021, I helped my local Community Conversations on Race group plan our town’s Martin Luther King Jr. Day event by gathering Black speakers to talk about topics important to them. In the summer of 2021, I attended a Black Lives Matter event where I heard local Black members of my community speak on how we can all work together to create a peaceful and equitable society. I began reading Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man by Emmanuel Acho and How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. I realized that being an ally is more than just sharing Instagram posts -- it is having difficult conversations with my community members, educating myself, and uplifting the voices of those who are routinely silenced. However, I know that there is much more to be done. I must continue to listen and learn. After all, ignorance breeds hate and education ends ignorance. Below I have attached a link to a storytelling event I participated in during my sophomore year of high school, in which I discuss how I came to realize the importance of listening and learning about one another through my love of theatre.

I have been a long-time believer in educational equity. I grew up in a town where a lot of children weren't planning to go to college for the sole reason that their families couldn't afford it and a large percentage of children who were planning on entering the Armed Forces simply to get a degree for less money. I knew from that point on that I had to do something to ensure that everyone had equitable access to inexpensive and great quality education, especially within our public schools. When I was in my sophomore year of school, I was asked by my guidance counselor to sit on our high school's Behavioral Multi-Tiered Systems of Support (MTSS-B) Implementation Team. MTSS-B is a framework that allows for students to be trained in Social-Emotional Learning and find ways to manage their behavior so that schools are safe spaces for ALL students. In this group, we analyzed data about the enrollment of students with IEPs, 504s, and who qualified for Free-or-Reduced Lunch in each class, which allowed us to make sure we were reaching students from all backgrounds in our classrooms. We also made suggestions about how to boost school spirits and create a community of loving and caring young adults. I believe that everyone should stand for equitable education because education is the backbone of our society and we must make sure that every child can access exceptional education at little to no cost to their families.

Friendship is almost undefinable because so many people have different definitions for what it means. To me, friendship means being loyal, honest, understanding, empathetic, and curious. Friendship is a relationship between two people in which they both equally give and take, learning from one another, and loving all sides of them. In a friendship, I expect that my friend will care for me as much as I care about them, which is often a LOT. People tell you not to jump off a bridge if your friend does, but if I'm being honest... I probably couldn't stop myself from following them. Friendship to me is like romantic love but without romance. It is two people giving their best and worst to another person, and that person taking both sides and holding them and respecting them, helping the other person grow. Friendship is undefinable, messy, and imperfect, but that is what makes it beautiful.

It took me many years to be able to say that I practice self-care. For most of my adolescence, I didn't believe that I deserved self-care and I would poison my body with junk food and would sit down for hours at a time. However, as I got older and went through high school, I finally began to understand the importance of mental health and self-care. I believe that self-care doesn't have to be big gestures; most of the time, self-care is the small things we give ourselves to achieve some level of peace. For me, self-care can be going for a five-minute walk between classes, setting reminders to drink water, having fruit as a snack, listening to my favorite album, or doing a two-minute meditative break while at my desk. These things are small gifts to myself that help my brain and body function more efficiently and provide me with a sense of peace.

"Patience is a virtue," so they say. But while patience may show a high moral standard, I also believe that it is an important quality to want to have regardless. Growing up, my whole life felt like it was moving on a treadmill, crossing miles in minutes. At six years old, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, I moved away to a small rural town in my eighth-grade year, and in high school, I was diagnosed with chronic depression -- one domino after another, spiraling into nothingness. I wanted to be a normal kid with a normal life. I wanted answers to my questions: "Why me?" "When will this end?" "Will I ever be a good Diabetic?" But eventually, through years of reflection and a little bit of therapy, I realized that some questions won't ever be answered and that some will take decades to know, that I will need to be patient in order to get my answers and be able to step off the treadmill and breathe.

When the pandemic began in the winter of 2020, I was finishing up my junior year of high school and starting on college applications. I originally was planning on majoring in musical theatre because I loved acting and wanted to share stories with the world. However, as time went on and more and more people were affected by this ruthless pandemic, I realized that there were REAL people whose stories needed to be told and who needed to be helped. Ultimately, this led to me stumbling into Political Science, my current major, and a field that I love.

My best skill is public speaking. I did a lot of theatre, choir, and band throughout high school, which helped me become comfortable performing in front of a crowd. Over time, I have adapted my performing skills into oratorical skills, competing at our statewide American Legion Oratorical Competition in middle school. I have also spoken at storytelling events, such as my high school's parody of "The Moth" which we called "Black Fly." Currently, I am taking a class called "Strategies of Success" which focuses on developing public speaking skills for freshmen college students and it has been a great opportunity for me to practice presenting in front of a group of my peers. In the future, I hope to continue developing these skills through extracurriculars like mock trial, advocacy work, and even just college classwork. Overall, I love public speaking and the power of utilizing words to create change. I look forward to continuing to develop my public speaking skills through my higher education.

One piece of tech that inspires me about how technology can make the world a better place is the modern-day insulin pump. When I was first diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes as a kindergartener, I gave myself insulin via a syringe at least five times a day. Six months later, I went on an insulin pump that would dose for me and my life changed forever. With an insulin pump, all I do is test my blood sugar, tell the pump how many carbohydrates I am about to eat, and it does the math and gives me the appropriate amount of insulin. Pumps have made the lives of Diabetics infinitely easier. However, while insulin pumps are helpful, they also helped pave the way for some other pieces of technology, such as the Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM) and the eventual bionic pancreas. The CGM takes my blood sugar every five minutes and uploads it to an app on my phone, making managing my health easier than ever before! Eventually, there will be an FDA-approved "closed-loop" system that will sync the CGM with an insulin pump to essentially create an external replacement for the pancreas. How cool is that? The invention of the insulin pump inspires me to think positively about all of the medical engineers and researchers out in the world who are working together to change the lives of people like me. If we cannot cure a disease like Diabetes, we can and should at least work together to make the lives of the disabled even just a little bit easier.

"Loud", "bossy", and "stubborn" are just a few titles often attributed to women who are outgoing and ambitious. Women in leadership positions are often undermined by their male subordinates and constantly questioned by their peers about their qualifications. It is time for this to stop. Like most social problems, misogyny starts young. Girls are told from a young age to like princesses, dressing up, playing house, and even baking. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with girls or women enjoying these things, we must also emphasize being well-rounded. Parents must ensure that girls are exposed to occupations that are unfortunately male-dominated: firefighting, being a doctor, working in construction, being CEO of a big company, or a famous NBA player. In my opinion, when raising children, it is critical to guarantee that they are exposed to as many walks of life as possible and know that what they can do in their careers should not be limited by their gender or sex. Misogyny then follows girls through their journey to "womanhood." Women who menstruate are often told that it "must be that time of the month" or are asked, "Is it shark week?" by their peers (even other women) if their mood is anything but cheery and agreeable. This line of questioning stems from the ideology that every woman who gets her period deals with wild mood swings and is incredibly irritable for a week when, in fact, this is not the case for all women. We must work together as a society to break down period stigma and understand that a woman's job is not to be agreeable -- it is to speak her mind confidently and with pride. Many other things need to be done for society to truly empower women. However, I believe that a big one is increasing education about relationship violence, domestic abuse, and emotionally abusive relationships, as well as how to intervene in them. Violence against women is a pandemic on a massive scale that has been largely swept under the rug, especially in the cases of BIPOC women who are disproportionately affected by relationship violence. We as a society must learn the signs of an abusive relationship, especially one that may not come with physical signs. We must teach boys and men to take care of their mental health, encourage them to go to therapy, and get their anger out in healthy and deescalating ways, not through violence. Most importantly, we must hold abusers of ALL genders accountable to ensure that their partners can get out and live happy and healthy lives. There is so much more that could be done to effectively empower women. However, I believe that the most effective steps are encouraging young girls to be confident, breaking down period stigma, and stopping relationship violence.

From the age of six, I have been pricking my finger, changing pump sites, and calculating insulin doses. My fingers would flip through the "CalorieKing Calorie, Fat & Carbohydrate Counter" book before dinner to find out how many carbs were in a half-of-a-cup of carrots, my eyes carefully scanning to make sure that I chose "baby" and not "shredded." Originally, kindergarten-me was very upset that I wasn't like my peers: that I couldn't eat as much candy on Halloween as they could; that running and swimming made me shaky and dizzy; that I would wake up out of a dead sleep with cold sweats, nausea, and a headache because my blood sugar was high. However, over the next several years, I learned that my disability is not a weakness but a strength. One of the ways that I embrace the burden of my diabetes is by using the need for increased responsibility into learning skills that I need to advocate for myself and others. Since my diagnosis, I have become much more aware of the injustices facing people in our society, especially those who are disabled. In second grade, I led a movement to start a "Walk for Type 1 Diabetes" at my middle school to spread awareness about T1D, dispel rumors about cures or management strategies, and raise money for JDRF. After petitioning for signatures and spreading the word on social media (what was then mostly Facebook), my school gave in and helped put on a walk to raise awareness. I have taken this experience with me through all of high school and even college, using it to help advocate for others who need their voices to be heard, such as the Black Lives Matter movement and the unhoused community in my local city. These experiences have inspired me to major in Political Science and work towards making an even greater difference in my community and pushing for more awareness and education about Type 1 Diabetes. While a Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis can be seen as a barrier or a financial burden, I hope that I will be able to work to make that no longer the case. My goal is to break down the barriers between disabled people and their able-bodied peers and make sure that we are listening to each other and providing equitable experiences to everyone, with the end goal of liberation. By advocating for and listening to each other, we can make a truly incredible difference in our world.