For as long as I can remember, I have loved the 1996 movie Matilda, inspired by the Rohl Dahl novel. For as long as I can remember, I have also been very responsible and independent, similar to Matilda. I’m not saying my parents left me in the back of the car without a proper car seat the day I was brought home from the hospital, but some events in my life may have led to my similar independence. While Matilda always took care of herself from a very young age, I began taking care of my siblings who are five and six years younger than me when I was around ten years old while my mom worked nights at the local animal clinic. I was always the bossy older sister who told them what to do, what to eat, and when to shower and go to bed. Now that I’m older, I have the same bossy tone but now with the responsibility of waking them up on time, driving them to school on time, and helping them with their math homework.  Another influence I believe Matilda has had on me is my love for reading. As most know, Matilda would walk several blocks as a young girl, all by herself, to get to and from the library daily. Well when I was Matilda’s age, I hated reading. I was behind in all my reading groups and never got very far in the read-aloud tests at school. However, since I was sitting in front of the television while Matilda was on for hours during my childhood, I believe I picked up a subconscious curiosity for reading and stories. I always loved my mom reading me stories, and I love the storyline of many television shows and movies; I was just a slow reader. Once I opened a graphic novel, I fell in love. My love grew and I eventually began reading all sorts of books. Now I read at least three books a month for pleasure. Another connection I feel with Matilda is that we have chosen the family we want to be a part of and spend time with. In the movie, Matilda eventually leaves her biological family and Miss Honey adopts her, showing she’s chosen her family based on people who love and appreciate her. I feel a similar way but I chose one side of the family over another because they have shown their love for me. My dad began disappearing from my life when I was around nine years old and he would send me to my aunt's house during our weekends while he spent his time with his girlfriend instead. When I was ten, she and my dad began isolating themselves from me. He still legally was supposed to pick me up for our time together every weekend but then came the excuses. He now lives a state away from me and I see him four times a year. However, my mom's side of the family has been with me through it all. My mom and two (half) siblings have been with me through moving from house to house, learning to live without a father figure, falling out of friendships, building new friendships, and everything else I’ve experienced in the last 18 years of living. I’m so grateful I could choose my loving family just like Matilda showed me through the screen. One day I hope to overcome the Ms. Trunchbulls of my life with the power Matilda gained along the way with the help of her independence, knowledge, and loving support.

When I was three years old, my parents initiated their divorce. My mom moved into a one-bedroom apartment, while my dad stayed in our house in Blackberry Creek. On weekdays, I would live in the apartment with my mom, and on weekends, I stayed in our old house with my dad. I loved the apartment as a three-year-old kid. Now that I'm more aware of the situation, I realize how rundown and small the place was, but at the time, my mom would always distract me with something fun to do. Around one year later, my mom met Tom at the clinic she was working at. After that, I remember moving into his house with my mom. When I was five years old, my brother was born. Then, a year later, my sister was born. Even though my mom had two little ones to raise, I never felt jealous. She would always include me in everything she did with the littles. Towards the end of second grade, my mom told me I would have to change schools; we were moving out of Tom's house. As my mom, brother, sister and I were uprooting our lives once again, my dad was moving himself an hour away. This was only the beginning of the distance growing between us. When I was nine years old my dad introduced me to his girlfriend, Elle. She was nice and had a cute dog. When my dad moved into his new house, Elle bought me things to make it feel more like home. When I was ten, Elle began isolating herself whenever I was at my dad’s, he would take me places just to be away from her. Life changed after I overheard my aunt scold my dad about choosing Elle over me. Though my dad continued to pick me up for the weekend we no longer stayed together, I stayed down the street at my aunt's. Then came the excuses, he couldn’t pick me up for this reason or that. Then as middle school social life absorbed my weekends it was often a mutual decision to skip our weekends together and not seeing my dad became normal. In 2020 my dad and Elle moved away, reinforcing the emotional distance with physical distance. I see him about four times a year now on holidays. My dad has become no more than an acquaintance to me. During the hard times of my dad choosing his girlfriend over our relationship, my mom has constantly been there for me. I helped my mom raise my siblings my whole life. I drive my siblings to and from school everyday, get them up, make sure they shower and brush their teeth before school, and make sure they get to bed at a reasonable time the night before. We tag team it. It’s a reason I think we’ve managed to get through so much together, because we see each other as companions and friends first, mother-daughter second. Another reason why I think we get along so well, she also grew up without a father figure. Although hers died when she was sixteen, and mine moved to another state when I was twelve, it has affected us. My mom has shown me what a real parent looks like and made me so thankful for our relationship. It is truly a very special part of my life, and it taught me what real love and loyalty are. However I was also able to learn how my relationships with my dad aided in my independence and resilience in adulthood.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my car seat hit the ground. Growing up without pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected.  In 2018 my family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies, and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors, and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS, a smell I can never unlearn. Because each animal who stepped through our doors was different from the last, I have learned so much about what animals have to go through throughout their lives. I decided to pursue veterinary medicine to help those who can’t help themselves.  While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years, I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named Burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. Because of the horror stories I’ve witnessed in my life when it comes to animals, I strongly believe in helping people help animals. If we can help educate people who don’t know how to properly care for animals, then they can help animals by rescuing them, loving them, and speaking out for them.  As soon as I was able to get a job, I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various playgroups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm, and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. I knew the importance of and understood the trust the dog owners put in me to keep their dogs safe everyday. I loved seeing the excitement on a dog's face when bringing them up to see their owners after a long day of playing. I believe that animals are a form of therapy and want to dedicate my life to caring for them and the people who love and depend on them. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my car seat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a pug, and Diesel a bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it!  Growing up without pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with, and caring for animals of all species became my second nature. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies, and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors, and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named Burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals.  In high school, my absolute favorite class was Animal Science. It was unlike any other class I had ever taken. That hour of my day always flew by and I found myself craving more information and knowledge. I realized that this was something I could spend my life doing. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various playgroups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm, and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. I believe that animals are a form of therapy and want to dedicate my life to caring for them and the people who love and depend on them. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my car seat hit the ground. Growing up without pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with, and caring for animals of all species became my second nature. In 2018 things picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies, and kittens later, I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors, and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years, I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named Burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals.  Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge.

Having battled the diagnosis of Selective Mutism (SM) since the age of 3 I have learned how crucial intervention, as well as the support of my family and community, has been on my success as an individual. I learned that had I gone without any sort of therapy or treatment for my SM I likely would have suffered permanent delays in my communication skills. It saddens me to think of all the children who go undiagnosed because their family thinks that their child is just "shy". I remember how painful it was to be in social situations or how I almost peed my pants on a daily basis because I was physically unable to ask for permission to do so. Or how I was never given a snack because I couldn't say thank you. A common co-morbidity of SM are sensory disorders. Often times I would miss school due to my inability to get dressed. My brain interpreted the feeling of most clothing, especially underwear and socks, as painful. From 3 years old until 10 years old I went through 3 psychologists, an occupational therapist, a Licensed Clinical Counselor and a psychiatrist. I started taking Prozac when I was 3 and that, along with the MANY special accommodations on the part of my schools and family, enabled me to begin to communicate my needs. Though I still struggle with anxiety and likely always will, the intensive support I received early in life helped to minimize the severity of my diagnosis. Last year my 11 year old little sister began showing signs of severe anxiety. I drive her to school every day and in January, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she would begin complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. Within minutes of this she would be sobbing uncontrollably and I would have to take her back home. It turned out she was having panic attacks in anticipation of being in the basic, average social situations of every day elementary school. Having experienced similar feelings, I was able to advocate for her to get her the help she needed. She started therapy and eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well. I am happy to report that, since the beginning of this school year, she has not experienced one panic attack! I am so grateful to have had the support and resources I needed to not only overcome my own diagnosis, but help somebody else overcome their own mental health struggles. I know that, had I not had the support I did during my early childhood, I would not be writing this essay today. Knowing that my mental health has been and will always be a challenge for me has made talking about it easier. I do not view mental health as a stigma and make that known to all who know me. Given all of this, I believe I am helping to improve how mental health is perceived as well as encouraging others who suffer from it to hopefully seek support. Earning my doctorate on veterinary medicine would prove to myself, as well as other who suffer with similar challenges, that anxiety is manageable and does not determine my future.

Having battled the diagnosis of Selective Mutism (SM) since the age of 3 I have learned how crucial intervention, as well as the support of my family and community, has been on my success as an individual. I learned that had I gone without any sort of therapy or treatment for my SM I likely would have suffered permanent delays in my communication skills. It saddens me to think of all the children who go undiagnosed because their family thinks that their child is just "shy". I remember how painful it was to be in social situations or how I almost peed my pants on a daily basis because I was physically unable to ask for permission to do so. Or how I was never given a snack because I couldn't say thank you. A common co-morbidity of SM are sensory disorders. Often times I would miss school due to my inability to get dressed. My brain interpreted the feeling of most clothing, especially underwear and socks, as painful. From 3 years old until 10 years old I went through 3 psychologists, an occupational therapist, a Licensed Clinical Counselor and a psychiatrist. I started taking Prozac when I was 3 and that, along with the MANY special accommodations on the part of my schools and family, enabled me to begin to communicate my needs. Though I still struggle with anxiety and likely always will, the intensive support I received early in life helped to minimize the severity of my diagnosis. Last year my 11 year old little sister began showing signs of severe anxiety. I drive her to school every day and in January, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she would begin complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. Within minutes of this she would be sobbing uncontrollably and I would have to take her back home. It turned out she was having panic attacks in anticipation of being in the basic, average social situations of every day elementary school. Having experienced similar feelings, I was able to advocate for her to get her the help she needed. She started therapy and eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well. I am happy to report that, since the beginning of this school year, she has not experienced one panic attack! I am so grateful to have had the support and resources I needed to not only overcome my own diagnosis, but help somebody else overcome their own mental health struggles. I know that, had I not had the support I did during my early childhood, I would not be writing this essay today. Knowing that my mental health has been and will always be a challenge for me has made talking about it easier. I do not view mental health as a stigma and make that known to all who know me. Given all of this, I believe I am helping to improve how mental health is perceived as well as encouraging others who suffer from it to hopefully seek support.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my carseat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a Pug and Diesel a Bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it! Growing up with pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with and caring for animals of all species became second nature to me. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors and so much parvovirus, a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. In high school my absolute favorite class was Animal Behavior. It was unlike any other class I had ever taken. That hour of my day always flew by and I found myself craving more information and knowledge. I realized that this was something I could spend my life doing. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. The time I spent overseeing various play groups taught me a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. I believe that animals are a form of therapy and want to dedicate my life to caring for them and the people who love and depend on them. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge. Veterinary School on top of undergraduate is going to be very expensive. Though I will receive a merit scholarship I will have to apply for student loans to cover the remainder of my tuitions. I am the child of a single mom and I see her still struggling to pay off her own student loans. I know that scholarships in any amount will help me to avoid her same financial struggles.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my carseat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a Pug and Diesel a Bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it! Growing up with pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with and caring for animals of all species became second nature to me. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various play groups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. I believe that animals are a form of therapy and want to dedicate my life to caring for them and the people who love and depend on them. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge.

Having battled the diagnosis of Selective Mutism (SM) since the age of 3 I have learned how crucial intervention, as well as the support of my family and community, has been on my success as an individual. I learned that had I gone without any sort of therapy or treatment for my SM I likely would have suffered permanent delays in my communication skills. It saddens me to think of all the children who go undiagnosed because their family thinks that their child is just "shy". I remember how painful it was to be in social situations or how I almost peed my pants on a daily basis because I was physically unable to ask for permission to do so. Or how I was never given a snack because I couldn't say thank you. A common co-morbidity of SM are sensory disorders. Often times I would miss school due to my inability to get dressed. My brain interpreted the feeling of most clothing, especially underwear and socks, as painful. From 3 years old until 10 years old I went through 3 psychologists, an occupational therapist, a Licensed Clinical Counselor and a psychiatrist. I started taking Prozac when I was 3 and that, along with the MANY special accommodations on the part of my schools and family, enabled me to begin to communicate my needs. Though I still struggle with anxiety and likely always will, the intensive support I received early in life helped to minimize the severity of my diagnosis. Last year my 11 year old little sister began showing signs of severe anxiety. I drive her to school every day and in January, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she would begin complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. Within minutes of this she would be sobbing uncontrollably and I would have to take her back home. It turned out she was having panic attacks in anticipation of being in the basic, average social situations of every day elementary school. Having experienced similar feelings, I was able to advocate for her to get her the help she needed. She started therapy and eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well. I am happy to report that, since the beginning of this school year, she has not experienced one panic attack! I am so grateful to have had the support and resources I needed to not only overcome my own diagnosis, but help somebody else overcome their own mental health struggles. I know that, had I not had the support I did during my early childhood, I would not be writing this essay today. Knowing that my mental health has been and will always be a challenge for me has made talking about it easier. I do not view mental health as a stigma and make that known to all who know me. Given all of this, I believe I am helping to improve how mental health is perceived as well as encouraging others who suffer from it to hopefully seek support.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my carseat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a Pug and Diesel a Bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it! Growing up with pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with and caring for animals of all species became second nature to me. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various play groups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge. Veterinary School on top of undergraduate is going to be very expensive. Though I will receive a merit scholarship I will have to apply for student loans to cover the remainder of my tuitions. I am the child of a single mom and I see her still struggling to pay off her own student loans. I know that scholarships in any amount will help me to avoid her same financial struggles.

Having battled the diagnosis of Selective Mutism (SM) since the age of 3 I have learned how crucial intervention, as well as the support of my family and community, has been on my success as an individual. I learned that had I gone without any sort of therapy or treatment for my SM I likely would have suffered permanent delays in my communication skills. It saddens me to think of all the children who go undiagnosed because their family thinks that their child is just "shy". I remember how painful it was to be in social situations or how I almost peed my pants on a daily basis because I was physically unable to ask for permission to do so. Or how I was never given a snack because I couldn't say thank you. A common co-morbidity of SM are sensory disorders. Often times I would miss school due to my inability to get dressed. My brain interpreted the feeling of most clothing, especially underwear and socks, as painful. From 3 years old until 10 years old I went through 3 psychologists, an occupational therapist, a Licensed Clinical Counselor and a psychiatrist. I started taking Prozac when I was 3 and that, along with the MANY special accommodations on the part of my schools and family, enabled me to begin to communicate my needs. Though I still struggle with anxiety and likely always will, the intensive support I received early in life helped to minimize the severity of my diagnosis. Last year my 11 year old little sister began showing signs of severe anxiety. I drive her to school every day and in January, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she would begin complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. Within minutes of this she would be sobbing uncontrollably and I would have to take her back home. It turned out she was having panic attacks in anticipation of being in the basic, average social situations of every day elementary school. Having experienced similar feelings, I was able to advocate for her to get her the help she needed. She started therapy and eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well. I am happy to report that, since the beginning of this school year, she has not experienced one panic attack! I am so grateful to have had the support and resources I needed to not only overcome my own diagnosis, but help somebody else overcome their own mental health struggles. I know that, had I not had the support I did during my early childhood, I would not be writing this essay today. Knowing that my mental health has been and will always be a challenge for me has made talking about it easier. I do not view mental health as a stigma and make that known to all who know me. Given all of this, I believe I am helping to improve how mental health is perceived as well as encouraging others who suffer from it to hopefully seek support.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my carseat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a Pug and Diesel a Bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it! Growing up with pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with and caring for animals of all species became second nature to me. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors and parvovirus, SO MUCH PARVO VIRUS a smell I can never unlearn. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. In high school my absolute favorite class was Animal Behavior. It was unlike any other class I had ever taken. That hour of my day always flew by and I found myself craving more information and knowledge. I realized that this was something I could spend my life doing. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various play groups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior and how to read their body language. A large part of my job required me to be vigilant, stay calm and respond quickly to ensure the dogs’ safety. Here I truly learned that any job that involves animals will never be dull! Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. No matter what I know that animals will be just as much a part of my future as they are my past. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge.

I like to think that my decision to pursue veterinary medicine occurred as early as the day I arrived home from the hospital when my first visitors greeted me with sloppy kisses the instant my carseat hit the ground. I came to recognize these two, Booda a Pug and Diesel a Bulldog, as my kin. They were by my side for every one of my childhood milestones and I have the pictures to prove it! Growing up with pets was never really an option as my mom has worked as a veterinary technician since she was 16, not that I would have objected. Cohabitating, interacting with and caring for animals of all species became second nature to me. In 2018 things really picked up when our family discovered the joy of fostering. Over one hundred dogs, cats, puppies and kittens later I have experienced nearly everything. Orphaned neonates, seniors living out their final days, the anxiety and aggression of the abused and neglected, the broken bones and amputees of trauma survivors. While large animals did not fall within my mom’s scope of expertise, as if by some force of nature, I grew up spending my weekends on my grandparents’ farm. Over the years I learned to tack and ride horses as well as care for donkeys, sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, ducks, and a camel named burgess. I became so proficient in my farm responsibilities that I began to help with horse camps and the petting zoo where I taught new riders and children how to safely ride and interact with the animals. It is no surprise that as soon as I was able to get a job I began working at a local doggy daycare, boarding and grooming facility. My responsibilities involved feeding, cleaning, medicating, and just hanging out with as many as forty dogs at a time. I spent a large portion of this time overseeing various play groups where I learned a great deal about animal behavior. Even though I have already spent so much of my life working with and learning about animals I know that this is still only the beginning. I remain passionate about animals and believe a career in this field will fulfill my desire for both excitement and challenge. Veterinary School on top of undergraduate is going to be very expensive. Though I will receive a merit scholarship I will have to apply for student loans to cover the remainder of my tuitions. I am the child of a single mom and I see her still struggling to pay off her own student loans. I know that scholarships in any amount will help me to avoid her same financial struggles.

When I was 3 years old I was diagnosed with Selective Mutism (SM), after I stopped speaking to EVERYONE except my mom and dad. Selective Mutism is an extreme form of anxiety that manifests as the inability to speak, especially in social situations. Many times SM goes undiagnosed as parents think they just have an extremely shy child. This can be detrimental to a child's development because so much of our language, social cues and communication skills are learned before the age of 7. In fact, if SM is goes untreated past the age of 7 children are extremely likely experience permanent language delays. In pre-school I would skip snack time because it would require me to say thank you and I would nearly have accidents daily because I could not ask to go to the bathroom. A common co-morbidity of SM are sensory disorders. Often times I would miss school due to my inability to get dressed. My brain interpreted the feeling of most clothing, especially underwear and socks, as painful. From 3 years old until 10 years old I went through 3 psychologists, an occupational therapist, a Licensed Clinical Counselor and a psychiatrist. I started taking Prozac when I was 3 and that, along with the MANY special accommodations on the part of my schools and family, enabled me to begin to communicate my needs. Though I still struggle with anxiety and likely always will, the intensive support I received early in life helped to minimize the severity of my diagnosis. Last year my 11 year old little sister began showing signs of severe anxiety. I drive her to school every day and in January, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, she would begin complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. Within minutes of this she would be sobbing uncontrollably and I would have to take her back home. It turned out she was having panic attacks in anticipation of being in the basic, average social situations of every day elementary school. Having experienced similar feelings, I was able to advocate for her to get her the help she needed. She started therapy and eventually began seeing a psychiatrist as well. I am happy to report that, since the beginning of this school year, she has not experienced one panic attack! I am so grateful to have had the support and resources I needed to not only overcome my own diagnosis, but help somebody else overcome their own mental health struggles.