I had been breaking a sweat all morning and afternoon: sweeping floors, organizing racks, handling customers and transactions, plus a hundred other menial (though necessary) tasks. I opened the shop at ten o’clock, and by closing time, realized that I had not gotten a single break nor bite to eat. This did not bother me. I prioritized my duties: Keep the store clean, ensure that customers are satisfied, create a running list of items we needed to restock on. My primary concern was the smooth-sailing of business — not for the sake of my boss’s approval, but for the sake of the business’s reputation and our loyal clientele. This was in the summer of 2025. I had been working at Estilo Consignment, a women’s resale clothing store in Brunswick, Maine, since 2022. At this point, my boss and coworkers considered me an integral part of the store, having plenty of experience with both the daily routines and the “regulars”. I developed a close friendship with my boss, Lauren, who encouraged my independence at work. My job was to organizie and decorate the physical space as I saw fit, buy and price items to sell, manage our social media, etc. I took this authority seriously, because I care deeply about Estilo and what it offers the community. Estilo represents the comfort, openness, and connectivity of Brunswick, Maine, and my goal was to make sure our customers really felt those qualities when they walked into the store. After a long day of working with my new coworker at the time, who I will refer to as Satine, it was a relief to take down the “OPEN” flag and close out the cash register. On this particular evening, our boss stopped by to sort through clothing donations that had been dropped off earlier that day. When she opened the door, she immediately smiled. “Wow! It looks so nice in here!” Lauren exclaimed. She turned toward Satine, who was leaning against the counter while I counted bills. “Thank you for keeping it so organized, that’s super helpful,” Lauren said to her. Satine gave her a small smile, nodded, and quickly responded: “Of course!”. What Lauren did not know was that I, not Satine, had been the one to clean the store so diligently. This would have been no problem if that had been the job assigned to me, but that was not the case. As this was Satine’s first job, Lauren and I were still in the process of training her. Therefore, Satine was to keep the racks, shelves, dressing rooms and floor organized, while I did the bulk of the day’s work. Prior to this shift, Lauren had explicitly instructed Satine to be a helpful “assistant” to me (not a formal title). Throughout the day, however, I felt as though I was working a solo shift. After a frenzy of answering questions, buying and pricing clothes, rearranging displays and whatnot, I would look around the store and see it in utter disarray. Dresses falling off their hangers, hats strewn across the floor, a mess of tangled necklaces on the jewlery table. It looked as though a bomb had gone off in the dressing rooms. Somehow, by multitasking all day, I managed to repeatedly clean up the store. Satine was busy with eyes glued to her phone, despite me asking for her help several times. Nevertheless, Satine took the credit without batting an eye. This same situation repeated itself two or three times afterwards. Each time our boss praised Satine for her hard work, I bit my tongue and did not object. I let my coworker be complimented for things I myself had accomplished, because I did not want to start an awkward conversation between the three of us. If I interrupted with the truth, it would have created tension between Satine and I, who still had to work together closely for the foreseeable future. After the second or third time, however, I waited until Satine left for the night to speak with my boss in private. I told her the truth: I had broken my own back tidying up the store while also seeing to business, and Satine had mostly sat on her phone in the corner. This surprised Lauren, and I vividly remember her words: “I wouldn’t have expected her to accept ownership like that. I’m glad you told me. That’s important to know as an employer”. If I were faced with a similar situation today, I would react the same way that I did in this case. I don’t believe it is necessary to humiliate someone publicly, nor denounce their work in front of them or an audience. That being said, I do believe that people should take responsibility for their actions. This is not only a moral dilemma, but also one of efficiency and maintenance. Specifically when it comes to group work, such as in a professional or academic setting, being honest about the effort/performance of individual team members may help the team’s function as a whole. It is important for an employer, coach, or teacher, for example, to know who is being a “team player” and who is not pulling their own weight. While in the heat of the moment, revealing the truth may not be the most diplomatic option, I don’t believe that one should stay silent thereafter. This experience taught me that, if the opportunity arises, people will work smarter and not harder, even at the detriment of others/the work itself. I realized that integrity is a core value of mine, not just in a work setting. I value myself as being a team player, and as someone who holds up my end of the agreed bargain — or, if I cannot, being upfront about it. I believe not only that many hands make light work, but also that having integrity will carry you far in life. Growth does not come from denying your shortcomings (or your successes, for that matter), but from facing them.

I have always been interested in becoming a special education teacher, but it wasn't until taking courses like "Teaching Exceptional Learners" and "Culturally Diverse Teaching" that I decided this is a path I'd like to commit to. These classes illuminated the world of special education, which is so much more vast and complicated than I had initially realized. Prior to these courses, I had a shallow view of special education. I quickly learned, though, just how many students fall under the special education "umbrella": autistic students, yes, but also those with dyslexia, speech or visual impairments, learning disabilities, and even ADHD. Once I understood how common the need for special education is, I knew that I wanted to make that educational experience as helpful and supportive as possible for students. I plan to pursue a Master's degree in Special Education at the University of Maine, Farmington. In the "Teaching Exceptional Learners" course I took (at Southern Maine Community College), it became abundantly clear to me how uncomfortable, inhibiting, and even frightening the special education experience can be for students. It can be isolating, as students are often kept in the most restricted environments out of convenience for the school/teachers. They are frequently separated from their peers in general education, which is not only socially detrimental, but academically, too. I want to help my students feel seen, heard, and understood; I also want them to feel just as intelligent and capable as their peers in general education. A classroom full of fear and insecurity is, inevitably, an unsuccessful learning environment. My goal is to inspire students in special education to feel excited about and confident in their learning. A friend of mine is autistic, and struggled significantly in public school. Not only was he severely bullied and treated as an outcast for twelve years, but he also was not performing to the best of his academic ability. He was kept in classes that were not challenging enough, and he also did not feel comfortable asking for help when needed. My friend ended up graduating high school and studying at Bowdoin College, where he was awarded a PhD in Mathematics. At Bowdoin, his intellect was taken seriously, he was integrated in programs with his general ed. peers, and he was given the confidence to not only master his learning, but challenge and expand on it, as well. I consider my friend to be one of the smartest people I personally know. The public school system failed him: it dimmed his light, and overshadowed his intelligence and incredible abilities. This is yet another reason why I aspire to be a special education teacher — there are far too many exceptional students, like my friend, whose brilliance is stifled by the way special education is set up in public schools. These are children who have the potential to grow into smart, informed citizens, and who may go on to pursue impressive careers. It is a shame that they are not always treated as such. I want to be a special education teacher because I believe that all students deserve a chance to perform well. This means providing the appropriate accommodations, multiple representations, and resources for students. Learning has never been a one-size-fits-all type of deal; the more us teachers honor the fact that students have individual, differing ways of absorbing concepts and skills, the more our students will actually learn (and enjoy the process!). If a person believes they cannot succeed, then they most likely will not. The belief that you can accomplish something is essential to growth. I strongly believe in my students.

I am interested in pursuing a career in teaching because I want to make an impact on students' lives, both on an academic and personal level. Public school students spend eight hours a day, five days a week, in a classroom. This is a notable chunk of their adolescent lives, and it is highly important that this time in school is valuable to the student themself. As a future teacher, I will play a large role in making such time valuable. I not only want to help students improve their knowledge and skills, but to also foster their love for learning in general. Growth starts with conscious engagement, as well as a commitment to growth. We cannot expect students to walk into the classroom inherently eager to learn. As a teacher, I can spark their interest in learning/critical thinking by making the content fun, or by showing them the value of gaining certain knowledge/skills. This is something that they will carry with them throughout their academic careers and beyond, regardless of the subject at hand. No matter our age, and no matter our field of work or study, us humans are constantly stretching our brains and developing new ways of thinking. Teachers are present throughout a large portion of students' social lives, too. Therefore, my goal is to be a teacher who is attentive, compassionate, and is willing to listen to my students' emotional needs. I strongly believe that it is partly a teacher's job to help children develop social and emotional behavioral skills. I want to be a role model who readily offers support in these domains, because mental, emotional, and social wellness can significantly impact a student's capacity to learn and perform in an academic setting. Furthermore, I feel that it is my personal duty to pursue a career in teaching. I am deeply passionate about the welfare of free, public education, and believe that I can make a difference: in one student's life, in the school I work at, or even on a district-wide level. For a long time, I have worried about the future state of public education, and how that will affect upcoming generations. One step I can take toward supporting public education is becoming a high-quality teacher who is prepared, competent, and understanding. Ever since I was in elementary school, I liked the idea of being an English teacher. As public schools in my area struggle with a lack of teacher personnel, I feel that it is my duty to step up to the plate and pursue this career. While teaching is not the easiest profession, it may have a remarkable influence on one's community. I want to serve upcoming generations of learners to the best of my ability, preparing them to become thoughtful members of society. One teacher who has changed my life is my high school AP Literature & Composition teacher, who I will refer to by the initials "EV". In my own journey to becoming a teacher, I often think of her. EV resurged my love of reading and writing. She was undeniably ecstatic about the material we worked with, and that in itself sparked my intrigue. EV allowed us students to mull over content in a thoughtful, systematic way, digesting the text and sharing ideas in open, whole-class dialogue. She honored our thoughts and opinions, and I found that the class was, for the most part, student led. This made myself and others feel a greater sense of autonomy over our learning. I have incorporated reading and writing habits into my daily life ever since, and am better for it.