My heart pounded in my chest as I turned around, my eyes filled with shock and disbelief. What had just happened? Was I offended? Did I enjoy it? Does not know making me disgusting? The first time I heard "Shake it Off," I was in college. It instantly transported me to a traumatic incident where a male student had harassed me by repeatedly slapping my behind and sticking his hand up my wrinkled white T-shirt. This incident left me feeling curious, but also ashamed as I struggled to understand myself and my feelings. Growing up in a Catholic middle school, I had not been taught about different sexualities or gender identities, and I felt lost and confused. During college, I studied mental health disorders, intergroup relations, sexuality, and various other principles that helped me grow on a personal level. Armed with this knowledge, I realized I had been ignorant to an entire community of LGBTQ people undergoing a similar process of discovery, denial, understanding, acceptance, and finally pride. However, my psychology classes brought an even more surprising realization—Unbeknownst to me, I had already successfully undergone this same process years before when I "discovered" I was a low-income first-generation Latino. This realization helped me embrace my differences and be proud of my cultural heritage. "Shake it Off" resonates with me because it captures the essence of self-acceptance and resilience. The upbeat tempo and empowering lyrics remind me to shake off the negativity and criticism from others, and to embrace my true self without fear or shame. It serves as a reminder that it's okay to be different, and that I don't have to conform to societal norms or expectations to be happy and successful. The music video for "Shake it Off" also garnered attention for its playful and colorful depiction of various dance styles, showcasing diversity and inclusivity. The video sends a powerful message of embracing different forms of expression and breaking free from societal norms and expectations. Furthermore, "Shake it Off" holds a special significance in my work as an educator. I share snippets of my journey with my students in the hopes of creating a safe space where they too can reflect on their progress and embrace their unique identities. I believe that exposure to diversity and fostering an inclusive environment is crucial in shaping responsible adults who will make positive contributions to the world. For many of them, Taylor Swift's "Shake it Off" has become an anthem for me, representing self-acceptance, resilience, and embracing one's differences. It serves as a reminder to not let others define me or bring me down, and to continue to strive towards self-love and acceptance. As I continue my path of self-discovery and growth, "Shake it Off" continues to inspire and empower me on those days when self-doubt rears its ugly head.

In 9th grade a male student repeatedly slapped my behind and then stuck his hand up my wrinkled white T-shirt. I spent several days afterward thinking about this. Although meant to discomfort me, I felt curious. However, this curiosity sparked prematurely. It came at a time where I didn't have the education to understand myself. All I knew was that given how hard my parents worked, I wanted to make them proud. At my Catholic middle school, I wasn't taught anything about other sexualities or gender identities. My curiosity soon transformed into shame and depression as Yahoo answers revealed I'd go to hell because I was likely gay. Hoping to still make my family proud, I worked harder than anyone could understand. I had to study. I had to learn. I had to stick out academically because that would make me a good kind of different. If I was this good kind of different, then I could ignore the other kind of different. Unfortunately striving to perform so well academically put me at increased risk for developing anxiety and depression. During college, I studied mental health disorders, intergroup relations, sexuality, and various other principles that helped me grow on a personal level. Armed with this knowledge, I realized I had been ignorant to an entire community of LGBTQ people undergoing a similar process of discovery, denial, understanding, acceptance, and finally pride. However, my psychology classes brought an even more surprising realization—Unbeknownst to me, I had already successfully undergone this same process years before when I "discovered" I was a low-income first-generation Latino. My mother often tells the story of the first time she walked past St. Matthew Catholic Elementary School. She turned to my dad and insisted that her future children would attend this San Mateo-based school. Her dream came true. Though repeatedly pulled out of class due to past-due tuition, we successfully graduated from this school and moved on to Serra High School, where I quickly secured scholarships that covered my tuition. However, at St. Matthews I was quickly confronted with how different I was from my peers. My parents weren't doctors nor investment bankers. I wasn't up-to-date on Jersey Shore episodes. I didn't know who Rihanna was. While my peers spent their evenings playing video games, I spent all my time at my family's Peruvian restaurant. Though "discovering" I was different initially prompted me to try and fit in by learning the lyrics to Natasha Beddingfield's top hits, I soon transitioned to depression from feeling so left out. Over time, I found solace in embracing my cultural differences. From serving tables at my parents' Peruvian restaurant to preparing delicious Alfajores, to chatting with customers about their childhood memories in Lima, I cherished every moment and learned to love my culture. Nowadays I still deal with depression and anxiety but armed with tools such as therapy and medication I'm able to embrace who I am fully and proudly. I share snippets of this journey with all of the high school students I work with in the hopes of creating a safe space where they too can reflect on the progress they've made. Successfully capturing the essence of this growth in their college applications is one of my biggest priorities because I firmly believe that exposure to diversity is intrinsic to creating responsible adults who will make the world a better place through the way they treat others.

In 9th grade a male student repeatedly slapped my behind and then stuck his hand up my wrinkled white T-shirt. I spent several days afterward thinking about this. Although meant to discomfort me, I felt curious. However, this curiosity sparked prematurely. It came at a time where I didn't have the education to understand myself. All I knew was that given how hard my parents worked, I wanted to make them proud. At my Catholic middle school, I wasn't taught anything about other sexualities or gender identities. My curiosity soon transformed into shame and depression as Yahoo answers revealed I'd go to hell because I was likely gay. Hoping to still make my family proud, I worked harder than anyone could understand. I had to study. I had to learn. I had to stick out academically because that would make me a good kind of different. If I was this good kind of different, then I could ignore the other kind of different. Unfortunately striving to perform so well academically put me at increased risk for developing anxiety and depression. During college, I studied mental health disorders, intergroup relations, sexuality, and various other principles that helped me grow on a personal level. Armed with this knowledge, I realized I had been ignorant to an entire community of LGBTQ people undergoing a similar process of discovery, denial, understanding, acceptance, and finally pride. However, my psychology classes brought an even more surprising realization—Unbeknownst to me, I had already successfully undergone this same process years before when I "discovered" I was a low-income first-generation Latino. My mother often tells the story of the first time she walked past St. Matthew Catholic Elementary School. She turned to my dad and insisted that her future children would attend this San Mateo-based school. Her dream came true. Though repeatedly pulled out of class due to past-due tuition, we successfully graduated from this school and moved on to Serra High School, where I quickly secured scholarships that covered my tuition. However, at St. Matthews I was quickly confronted with how different I was from my peers. My parents weren't doctors nor investment bankers. I wasn't up-to-date on Jersey Shore episodes. I didn't know who Rihanna was. While my peers spent their evenings playing video games, I spent all my time at my family's Peruvian restaurant. Though "discovering" I was different initially prompted me to try and fit in by learning the lyrics to Natasha Beddingfield's top hits, I soon transitioned to depression from feeling so left out. Over time, I found solace in embracing my cultural differences. From serving tables at my parents' Peruvian restaurant to preparing delicious Alfajores, to chatting with customers about their childhood memories in Lima, I cherished every moment and learned to love my culture. Nowadays I still deal with depression and anxiety but armed with tools such as therapy and medication I'm able to embrace who I am fully and proudly. I share snippets of this journey with all of the high school students I work with in the hopes of creating a safe space where they too can reflect on the progress they've made. Successfully capturing the essence of this growth in their college applications is one of my biggest priorities because I firmly believe that exposure to diversity is intrinsic to creating responsible adults who will make the world a better place through the way they treat others.