I had always been described as "too emotional" by teachers and family. Kids in my classes called me a "crybaby" for amusement, and I would meltdown. Being ridiculed for being overwhelmed and sensitive made me feel like it was wrong to be upset. I was an undiagnosed child with autism in the public school system. I didn't need special assistance, and I enjoyed learning and going to school. I was selected to be part of many advanced and gifted and talented programs, I had no difficulty academically or listening to my teachers. I struggled with being too perfect. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming annoyed, and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers and I didn't want to make them upset, but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

My dream is to provide any child with an education across the world. Specifically, young girls across the world. My dream may seem ordinary, or even cliche, but I hope for everyone to have the opportunity to pursue a higher education. What sparked this idea is a program through my church that allows a family to fund a child in a third world country to have enough money to go to school. They apply for the program, and the child from another country chooses the family to sponsor them. They are provided with clothes and any supplies they need to learn. My family was thrilled to participate in this program, and it really opened our eyes when a young boy named Jose from Nigeria chose us. I have done research about his life there and it has opened my eyes about how different American society is from theirs. Since then I realized how not everyone across the world gets the same educational opportunities I do, and my goal is to change that. Many third world countries are dangerous for young girls to get the same educational opportunities that I have been blessed with in America. Many people don't understand the privileges regarding education, such as free public school in the United States. A prime example is that young women in Afghanistan can't go to school after the age of 12 due to political and social climates. They are conditioned into being wives instead of pursuing careers like American women. Many countries such as Nigeria or Somalia are so dangerous for girls that they are afraid to go to school. My dream for the world is to give young ladies the equal opportunity in education, despite being oppressed I wish to see them overcome that gender barrier and achieve their dreams of going to college, law school, or even medical school. I dream for a society where anyone can learn anything, pursue a career, and a life that they choose. Not a duty chosen for them. I dream that in the future I will see my sisters across the world studying, learning, and working safely to make the world a better place. I am pursuing my degree in education to welcome any child within my classroom regardless of their background. In college my goal is to go on mission trips through my church to teach other young minds across the world subjects like math, literature, and science. Not only do I believe that I could teach them, but they could teach me about their culture and hardships. I want to change the world any way I can accommodate educational needs. Even if my dream is just out of reach, it starts with me by taking the first step. To some, my dream may seem unachievable, far-fetched if you will, but any effort made is one more inspiration given to a young mind. Though my education, if I can help anyone grow, in my eyes it is seen as an accomplishment. One step forward in seeing a change in our world by encouraging and motivating those around us to grow.

I had always been described as "too emotional" by teachers and family. Kids in my classes called me a "crybaby" for amusement, and I would meltdown. Being ridiculed for being overwhelmed and sensitive made me feel like it was wrong to be upset. I was an undiagnosed child with autism in the public school system. I didn't need special assistance, and I enjoyed learning and going to school. I was selected to be part of many advanced and gifted and talented programs, I had no difficulty academically or listening to my teachers. I struggled with being too perfect. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming annoyed, and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers and I didn't want to make them upset, but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

Before my Great grandfather passed away I thought he was just another sweet old man who called me "Mijah" and snuck me cookies under the table while my parents weren't watching. I never expected him to be so significant. The blood within my family runs green. Many relatives have served in the US Army, Air force, or Navy. My great grandpa is no exception, but he really takes the cake. He inspired so many of my family members to serve, but I never understood why. I never saw him in his uniform; I just always saw him hugging us or watering his garden. He loved to teach me songs or Spanish alongside my grandma and ensured everyone knew that they were valued and loved. He didn't like sitting around watching people work, so he always extended an open hand. He was our family's rock and didn't hesitate to hold us together. He was just simply my Abuelito, not a war hero. My Abuelito influenced my life so much that I decided to join the AFJROTC program at my high school. The first time he saw me in my dress blues his face lit up and he had the biggest smile. "Mijah!" he exclaimed "Wow! You look so beautiful, I'm so proud," he said, stroking my cheek. I knew in that moment I was going to continue making him proud. I dominated the program, soaring through the ranks and positions throughout high school. I won academic, community service, cadet, and national awards. I secured my position my senior year as vice corps commander, second in command of the entire 200-cadet program. Cadet Lieutenant Colonel, Camden Avants. The same rank he retired with. When I told him the news, he was overjoyed, but visibly tired. I gave him a tight squeeze and told him I loved him. I will never forget the last thing he told me. “Mijah. I am so proud of you. You have always been so smart and strong. You make my heart happy. I hope you know how much I love you.” I smiled and squeezed his hand. He always told me that, but I never knew it would be the last time. Unexpectedly, his health declined, and before I knew it, he passed away suddenly this October. At the funeral, I was amazed by all he had done within his life. In his casket, he was wearing his Army dress uniform, with an officer cap tucked under his clasped hands. An honorary American flag was draped over him. I gaped at dozens of medals that were displayed, Special forces banners, and insignias showcased before me. A sword laid on the table in its sheath as a 21-gun salute thundered as his cavalry strolled by. My great grandfather, Lieutenant Colonel Rubin Candia, had one bachelor, two masters degrees, and a P.H.D. He was one of the first founding green berets of the US Army and was involved in operations and missions in Cuba, Columbia, the Dominican Republic, and Panama. He completed a combat tour in South Vietnam with the 101st Airborne and Air Assault Division as an artillery major in 1967-68, where he was awarded the Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster. He taught at West point, the army service academy for 3 years, and was the head of the ROTC unit at Saint Mary’s college. He will always be my hero and I inspire to be just like him. I am pursuing a degree in education to honor his love for knowledge and legacy. I know every step I take forwards, he is here walking with me.

For a long time, I struggled to find my purpose. I was the overachiever. Teacher’s pet with straight A’s, enrolled in advanced classes and GT programs. I put passion into everything I did academically, but something always felt missing. I was unsure of myself, and not confident in my abilities. Toward the end of middle school, I believed I had found my calling: the arts. I joined my high school’s musical theater department, eager to grow creatively, while also enrolling in JROTC. I never imagined one of these paths would unpredictably shape my future. Being raised in a Texan military family, discipline came naturally. “Yes sir” and “Yes ma’am” were second nature. I was polite, quiet, and respectful. So when my theater teacher began criticizing me, I was blindsided. She grew frustrated because I was trained to remain stiff and sharp, instead of loose and fluid. She disapproved my dress blues during rehearsals and resented my priority being my corps. After a disagreement over a grade, she told me I was “the most disrespectful, untalented, selfish kid” she had ever taught. I was stunned. Fighting back shameful tears, I left the stage and walked to my next period, JROTC. As I walked through the double doors my instructor, SMSgt Hall, noticed and pulled me aside. “Kiddo, what is wrong with you?” His usual intense demeanor turned softer as he asked. I broke down, explaining everything. He listened, then simply said, “Don’t let one person dictate how you perceive yourself. Follow people who recognize your potential.” That day changed me. I left the theater program behind and devoted myself to JROTC. I excelled through the ranks, received service and national awards, and was selected as corps staff—one of the ten cadets chosen to lead the two hundred cadets in the program. By junior year, I was being considered for Corps or Vice Corps Commander. The top two, the big dogs, the dream all first years hoped to achieve. Then, I was unexpectedly called into my sergeant’s office where my former theater teacher was waiting. Coincidentally, she had learned I had shared my experience with her earlier in the year. She denied everything and accused me of ruining her reputation. I felt smaller and invalidated, just as I had felt in that claustrophobic black box. For a moment, I wavered. I felt like the girl who was unsure of herself again, but then I remembered: Don’t let one person dictate how you perceive yourself. I met her gaze and said, “Ma’am, what I said was true. You may not remember, but I do. It’s why I left your program, because I followed those who believed in me. Whether you recall it or not, those words were said to me.” Silence followed. She looked at me with a stunned expression, muttered something under her breath, and walked out of the office. As she was leaving, I realized something. I wasn’t the same validation-seeking girl I was freshman year. I had grown into a confident, driven leader. A young woman who knows her worth and leads with integrity. That night, my name was called. I proudly walked across the stage to receive my new title as Vice Corps Commander. I stood front and center as my cadets whooped and hollered, their applause thundering throughout the auditorium. I smiled as I proudly stood on the same stage I had been called untalented on. The same stage where I now had proven my worth. I took my place next to SMSgt Hall in the spotlight, shaking his hand. “Thank you sir.” I said, “For everything.”

Jen Doll Reynolds was my non biological aunt. My mom was a young mother, and didn't receive a lot of help taking care of me. Jen, one of her best friends and a seasoned mom, didn't hesitate to reach out with a helping hand. She was my mom and I's superhero. She got me ready every morning, made me breakfast, drove me to school, picked me up from school, and helped me with any homework I had afterwards. She was like my second mom, always rising up to the challenge to spend every waking moment she could with me. She did all of this while suffering through chemotherapy, but never let me think for a second that she was sick. She was a war torn survivor of the disease, fighting through every day to make me smile and laugh despite how tired she was. I grew up in her home, watched her power through the grogginess and nausea, and still continue doing her every day activities and thrill seeking lifestyle. We shared a love of water. We both loved to swim, jet ski, fish, wake board, and fly down the water in a boat, and she didn't let cancer take that away from her. She inspired me to chase after what I loved most, and to accomplish any goal I had set my mind on. She'd say "If anyone could do it, it would be you." as she would give me fist bump. Jen always had been altruistic, so she started her own nonprofit "The Pink Warrior Advocates" to give back to those who were struggling like her. Her giving personality pushed me to become someone who volunteers her own time too, because it's what Jen loved to do the most. She always pushed for success, and wasn't afraid to put the hard work into doing it. Jen fought and fought her cancer until one day, she was cancer free. Despite no longer having the disease, she continued to give her time, serve, and help anyone else who was struggling. She taught everyone around her to enjoy the simple things like had to offer, and to not let a diagnosis define who you were, but to live fully in spite of the situation. Jen had that mentality her entire life, even when her cancer came back. She always saw the positive aspects of her day, and never let the negative experiences set her back. She instilled her selfless and persistent personality into me, and I continue to honor her every single day by giving my all. Jen made me realize the gift of giving back to my community, which inspired me to pursue a career in teaching. I want to give back by educating the young minds around me, not just with mathematics and literature, but in empathy, compassion, and encouragement. I want to teach the moral lessons she gave me to my students, in hopes to inspire them like she inspired me. I am so passionate about education and enjoy the possibility of what I can help others learn. I am excited to start this next chapter of my life to expand my horizons on my teaching capabilities. I hope to continue guiding others with patience, encouragement, and passion. Teaching is more than just a career path; it is the lifestyle I have embraced with purpose and love because of her.

Being a child in the public school system with autism, it was hard to be understood by teachers and students around me. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a different world, and the "normal" side was just past my fingertips. I felt disconnected, out of place and misunderstood. Despite being high functioning, it was still a struggle to get teachers to understand how to help me. I never struggled academically, I thrived in learning environments and I soared through advanced programs. I struggled with everyday tasks and common sense felt like a foreign language to me. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming frustrated and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

I was born to be a leader, but inspired to be a teacher. My entire purpose has been to educate, encourage, and guide my younger siblings, which has developed my passion for teaching. I am part of a blended family and transitioning from being an only child to adjusting to a new family is a challenge. I felt disconnected and uncomfortable, as if there were strangers staying in my home. I struggled because I was used to being alone and couldn’t relate to them. However, once my younger stepsister started school, I found myself drawn to her side at the small desk the two of us shared. She struggled in writing and reading; and watching her tear up in frustration ignited something within me. My best subject was English, I had a 5th grade reading level when I was 7. Surely I could help her. I guided her through spelling her name, practicing her sight words, and writing her letters. Surprisingly I kept returning to that desk every day after school, excited to see her progress. It was then I discovered the fulfillment of helping another person. I couldn’t describe the pride and satisfaction I felt when she came back one Friday with a bright 100 on her spelling test. As I got older I realized I was committed to helping people succeed. I developed into a devoted role model, dedicated to improving myself for the purpose of teaching. I learned everything I could in order to educate my sisters: Grammar, geometry, biology, anything I wanted to share. Not only had I started becoming studious, but I started to make more friends and discover new interests in school. I enjoyed helping other students who were struggling in class, and consequently I became more confident in my academic abilities. When I started high school and enrolled in the JROTC program I thrived in a team oriented environment and excelled in leadership roles. I adored instructing drill maneuvers and encouraging cadets to become confident leaders. My instructors took notice, sending me to team building camps in order to develop my leadership and teaching skills. Specifically one of my instructors helped me realize my potential. My freshman year I had been struggling with my self worth and my ability to be a confident leader. He encouraged me to do my best, and follow the people who recognized my potential. I became confident and driven, dedicated to doing my best. By my senior year I had gone from a member of the corps; to being second in command of the two hundred man unit. Now I am guiding underclassmen through the program and setting the example of what the ideal cadet should look like. I am proud to share my experiences and I am excited to see what others will take away from what I have taught them. I am so passionate about education and enjoy the possibility of what I can help others learn. I am excited to start this next chapter of my life to expand my horizons on my teaching capabilities. I hope to continue guiding others with patience, encouragement, and passion. Teaching is more than just a career path; it is the lifestyle I have embraced with purpose and love.

I was born to be a leader, but inspired to be a teacher. My entire purpose has been to educate, encourage, and guide my younger siblings, which has developed my passion for teaching. I am part of a blended family and transitioning from being an only child to adjusting to a new family is a challenge. I felt disconnected and uncomfortable, as if there were strangers staying in my home. I had been an only child until my parents remarried, and I struggled because I was used to being alone and couldn’t relate to them. However, once my younger stepsister started school, I found myself drawn to her side at the small desk the two of us shared. She struggled in writing and reading; and watching her tear up in frustration ignited something within me. My best subject was English, I had a 5th grade reading level when I was 7. Surely I could help her. I guided her through spelling her name, practicing her sight words, and writing her letters. Surprisingly I kept returning to that desk every day after school, excited to see her progress. It was then I discovered the fulfillment of helping another person. I couldn’t describe the pride and satisfaction I felt when she came back one Friday with a bright 100 on her spelling test. As I got older I realized I was committed to helping people succeed. I developed into a devoted role model, dedicated to improving myself for the purpose of teaching. I learned everything I could in order to educate my sisters: Grammar, geometry, biology, anything I wanted to share. Not only had I started becoming studious, but I started to make more friends and discover new interests in school. I enjoyed helping other students who were struggling in class, and consequently I became more confident in my academic abilities. When I started high school and enrolled in the JROTC program I thrived in a team oriented environment and excelled in leadership roles. I adored instructing drill maneuvers and encouraging cadets to become confident leaders. My instructors took notice, sending me to team building camps in order to develop my leadership and teaching skills. Specifically one of my instructors helped me realize my potential. My freshman year I had been struggling with my self worth and my ability to be a confident leader. He encouraged me to do my best, and follow the people who recognized my potential. I became confident and driven, dedicated to doing my best. By my senior year I had gone from a member of the corps; to being second in command of the two hundred man unit. Now I am guiding underclassmen through the program and setting the example of what the ideal cadet should look like. I am proud to share my experiences and I am excited to see what others will take away from what I have taught them. I am so passionate about education and enjoy the possibility of what I can help others learn. I am excited to start this next chapter of my life to expand my horizons on my teaching capabilities. I hope to continue guiding others with patience, encouragement, and passion. Teaching is more than just a career path; it is the lifestyle I have embraced with purpose and love.

Being a child in the public school system with autism, it was hard to be understood by teachers and students around me. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a different world, and the "normal" side was just past my fingertips. I felt disconnected, out of place and misunderstood. Despite being high functioning, it was still a struggle to get teachers to understand how to help me. I never struggled academically, I thrived in learning environments and I soared through advanced programs. I struggled with everyday tasks and common sense felt like a foreign language to me. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming frustrated and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

My "Pie in the Sky" is to provide any child with an education across the world. Specifically, young girls across the world. My dream may seem ordinary, or even cliche, but I dream for everyone to have the opportunity to pursue a higher education. What sparked this dream is a program through my church that allows a family to fund a child in a third world country to have enough money to go to school. They apply for the program, and the child from another country chooses the family to sponsor them. They are provided with clothes and any supplies they need to learn. My family was thrilled to participate in this program, and it really opened our eyes when a young boy named Jose from Nigeria chose us. I have done research about his life there and it has opened my eyes about how different American society is from theirs. Since then I realized how not everyone across the world gets the same educational opportunities I do, and my goal is to change that. Many third world countries are dangerous for young girls to get the same educational opportunities that I have been blessed with in America. Many people don't understand the privileges regarding education, such as free public school in the United States. A prime example is that young women in Afghanistan can't go to school after the age of 12 due to political and social climates. They are conditioned into being wives instead of pursuing careers like American women. Many countries such as Nigeria or Somalia are so dangerous for girls that they are afraid to go to school. My dream for the world is to give young ladies the equal opportunity in education, despite being oppressed I wish to see them overcome that gender barrier and achieve their dreams of going to college, law school, or even medical school. I dream for a society where anyone can learn anything, pursue a career, and a life that they choose. Not a duty chosen for them. I dream that in the future I will see my sisters across the world studying, learning, and working safely to make the world a better place. I am pursuing my degree in education to welcome any child within my classroom regardless of their background. In college my goal is to go on mission trips through my church to teach other young minds across the world subjects like math, literature, and science. Not only do I believe that I could teach them, but they could teach me about their culture and hardships. I want to change the world any way I can accommodate educational needs. Even if my dream is just out of reach, it starts with me by taking the first step. To some, my dream may seem unachievable, a pie way in the sky if you will, but any effort made is one more inspiration given to a young mind. Though my education, if I can help anyone grow, in my eyes it is seen as an accomplishment. One step forward in seeing my pie in the sky come to fruition.

A diary. Either leather bound, sparkly, or decorated with a lock and key, I have possessed one since I was small. Writing my thoughts and emotions on the small pages has become a daily routine. Despite the unpredictability of life as I have grown, writing in the small notebook before I went to bed has remained the one constant. Writing in my diary has become my sanctuary. Although it is plain and seemingly normal, it has helped me understand more about myself than any other person could. It gives me an escape to tell the pages my secrets, fears, and dreams. A safe haven of one dependable listener, who won't spill my innermost thoughts to anyone else. All through the battle of indecisiveness, heartbreak, anger, and grief, writing how I felt transformed into a coping mechanism. Flipping through the pages has shown me that scars can heal. Turning and reading each page of insecurity, hope, and anxiety, has proven that I have lived through what my teenage mind thought was the end of the world. It helped me realize that things that may seem big in the moment, turn out to be meaningless in the long run. I have watched myself learn and grow through my childhood to adolescent years by the stories on my diary's pages. From dreams of being a pop star, goals of becoming a professional artist, to deciding on a high school dual credit English teacher. My writing has shown all parts of my life, just by picking up a pen and paper and writing what was on my mind. Having a diary to develop my ideas about my own life inspired me to write about others. Characters I had made up in my own world to give flaws, lessons, and development. I joined a creative writing club to meet other students passionate about their own ideas, and we ended up making zines for other students to read. I was also inspired to rewrite a TV series in which I was unsatisfied with the ending, imagining I was on the team that wrote the script. Which opened my eyes to write my own 5 season script through middle and high school, in hopes that in college I will have an opportunity to begin its production. It gave me a creative outlet to express my ideas in real life scenarios, which all tied back to expressing my own emotions in my diary. It's amazing to think about how a small habit I picked up in elementary school grew into a strong passion for storytelling. In college, I hope to find other English majors to connect with and learn about texts that are significant to all forms of writing. I am excited to analyze and understand the books and plays of authors and playwrights before me. I hope to become inspired by them to inspire the students I will be teaching as a dual credit English teacher. My dream is to inspire other teens like me, who are passionate about writing their emotions and creativity on a page, to discover other stories the world hasn't seen yet. Who knows what there could be in someone else's mind, it only takes a pen and paper to find out!

Being a child in the public school system with autism, it was hard to be understood by teachers and students around me. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a different world, and the "normal" side was just past my fingertips. I felt disconnected, out of place and misunderstood. Despite being high functioning, it was still a struggle to get teachers to understand how to help me. I never struggled academically, I thrived in learning environments and I soared through advanced programs. I struggled with everyday tasks and common sense felt like a foreign language to me. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming frustrated and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

I had always been described as "too emotional" by teachers and family. Kids in my classes called me a "crybaby" for amusement, and I would meltdown. Being ridiculed for being overwhelmed and sensitive made me feel like it was wrong to be upset. I was an undiagnosed child with autism in the public school system. I didn't need special assistance, and I enjoyed learning and going to school. I was selected to be part of many advanced and gifted and talented programs, I had no difficulty academically or listening to my teachers. I struggled with being too perfect. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming annoyed, and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers and I didn't want to make them upset, but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

Watching Maya from girl meets world completely influenced my childhood. As someone who has had difficulty finding her true family, I could relate to this fictional character played by Sabrina. Maya Hart's confidence and fierce protectiveness for her best friend Riley showed me that family can be found, it didn't have to be defined by blood. As a young girl who had trouble understanding that before watching Girl Meets World, it completely changed my perspective in life. I was able to find my true family as a young adult, all thanks to a character planting that seed. Sabrina didn't impact my childhood, but she has followed me through my teens and adolescence. She has become a powerful female icon who is unique and destroys stereotypes and standards for modern women. She broke away from the conservative Disney mindset to being an R-Rated icon. She describes the messy romance life of a young woman in today's society, which not many female artists have had the power to do due to backlash. She has displayed confidence after a breakup in her songs, and amplified femininity in her music. She has given me strength to get over breakups, and shown me that things I feel are normal for someone my age in a romantic relationship. Sabrina has been a powerful influence in my life on screen and on stage, and I am so glad she took off in her career. I am grateful for the messages she has portrayed as an actor and in music, because I know other girls out there like me have been shown that our experiences with boys are just like hers. We all have experienced romance differently but felt the same as a celebrity. It doesn't matter social status, heartbreak and love tell a similar story for us young girls.

Although I have struggled with being iron deficient, I would like to highlight someone else's blood disorder journey; my mother. She never let it fully affect her life, and it didn't seem like it was a threat. She just had to take supplements and take care of herself. I had always known her to be strong and passionate, always brave and facing things head on despite the challenges life threw at her. I had never seen her be truly afraid before, until she went into labor with my little sister. She had suffered miscarriages before due to the disorder, and it left her with heartbreak I couldn't begin to understand. When she finally became pregnant, she was weary but excited. Her pregnancy had some complications due to the disorder. She often felt dizzy, would pass out, fall to the floor, and it was scary to watch as a nine year old. We never knew if she would fall on her stomach and injure herself or the baby, she would just feel so dizzy she couldn't stand upright. I would just hold her hand through her nausea and dizzy spells, hold her hair back when she needed, or help her to her feet after she had fallen. I couldn't help my mom feel better, I could only watch her struggle. Soon, she went into labor. Hours of grueling agony to bring my little sister into the world, I sat waiting for her to come home. I soon got the news of complications that had occurred. My sister was fine, but my mom had lost too much blood. Her uterus had torn so much it was beyond repair, and because of her anemia, she was fighting for her life in the hospital. I had never felt so scared in my life, because the thought of losing my mother had never crossed my mind. I had no idea what to do but wait for hours. I cried, terrified I didn't get the opportunity to say good bye if the worst came to worst. After her surgery and recovery I was able to see her again. She looked haggard and her tan skin was so pale she was almost white. I hugged her tightly as she introduced me to my little sister for the first time. Relief washed over me when I realized both of us were blessed to grow up with a mother at our side. Unfortunately, she had lost so much blood from her uterus it had to be removed. She cannot have children anymore because of her childbirth complications and blood loss, and it comes with silent mourning for her. I want to bring awareness to blood disorders and understanding the risks they come with. Although anemia may not seem as catastrophic as other blood disorders may appear, it still has risks that could be life threatening. Anemia effects 1 in 4 people globally, making it the most common blood disorder in the world. There are many people who aren't receiving supplements of iron, or nutrient rich food to combat the symptoms. Despite being a common disorder, it takes thousands of lives each year, which can be prevented with more resources to combat symptoms. I would like to help those in need, like my mother, to receive better healthcare, medications, insurance, and provide care for anyone who struggles with a blood disorder.

I used to struggle to believe in God. I couldn't comprehend that someone created everything that lives, moves, and breathes on this planet. I struggled to understand why someone so perfect allowed wickedness to consume society. I grew up in a Christian household, we went to church, read the bible, did devotionals as a family, participated in youth groups, practiced catechism, but I felt so disconnected. It felt forced, it was knowledge I had to know, not knowledge I wanted. I struggled with self harm, an eating disorder, and suicidal tendencies. I didn't see a reason to live, and I didn't feel loved or wanted by anybody. I felt alone and if I were drowning. I felt isolated in my church, I didn't feel God's light, or Jesus's grace, I just felt empty. I felt despair and had no motivation to take care of myself. My hair fell out, my ribs showed, and my eyes had dark circles from the lack of sleep. It all built up until one day, when I was 15, I made the final attempt on my life. I saw no reason to stay, and it was my only release. As I was about to do it, I felt a sudden surge of guilt and regret. Why was I doing this? What am I doing? How did I get to this point? Why does this suddenly feel so wrong? Dozens of emotions and questions flooded my brain. I found myself at my desk, with my bible opened to the book of Romans. One verse became my lifeline: "But God commendeth his own love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. "(Romans 5:8). Despite all of my brokenness and hurt I felt, Jesus still loved me. He paid the ultimate price with his life, so I could fulfill mine due to his love. The full weight of those words completely turned my life around. I stopped any harm to myself because "my body is God's temple." I started eating more and exercising to become healthier. I gained 15 pounds, my hair grew back, my skin was clearer, and my life became better. I continued following Jesus's light and path to righteousness, because despite everything I was his child. I sat down every night to read the new testament, and paid attention to the pastors sermons every Sunday. I became more involved, starting mingling with the girls my age, and living by his word. As I go to college I hope to be part of the young life programs and get involved in local churches that help the community. I want to help others discover the word of god, or become fully committed to it despite the dark places they may be. College is a mess of temptation and sin, but I hope by being part of those organizations I can guide people away or through those circumstances. My life has truly improved from when I was 15, and I'm about to start the next chapter knowing Jesus is by my side.

I am Camden Avants, a girl from San Antonio, who has always wanted to give back to her community. I was an undiagnosed child with autism in the public school system. Autism is a spectrum, meaning some people with the disorder may function differently than others. I didn't need special assistance, and I flourished in academic environments. I enjoyed learning and going to school, I was selected to be part of many advanced and gifted and talented programs from a young age. I had no difficulty academically or listening to my teachers. I struggled with being too perfect. Due to my disorder, I have hyper perfectionism. I would get frustrated and wouldn't want to continue trying to complete a task if I didn't understand it immediately. It made me stubborn, difficult to compromise with, and prone to meltdowns. Teachers struggled to understand why I acted that way. It resulted in many becoming frustrated and it discouraged me as a kid, because I didn't understand why I reacted that way. I hated disappointing my teachers and I didn't want to make them upset, but I had growing anxiety over new experiences because I was so afraid to fail I didn't want to try. This fear remained all throughout school until I met my 8th grade art teacher. He was a kind older gentleman who had way too much patience for a room full of forty 13 year olds. At the beginning of the semester, I would just sit and stare at the blank page he handed out, petrified of making a mistake. He would just quietly pick it up at the end of the 45-minute class like the rest of the kids and put it in the pile. Finally after the first week he asked me why I hadn't started my project like the rest of the children. I voiced my concern about messing it up, not receiving a good grade, and many more excuses as to why I hadn't done my work. Instead of giving me an F, he simply drew a lopsided circle on the paper. "Is this perfect?" he asked. "No sir." I responded. "We are human and bound to make mistakes. I have never met an artist to draw a completely perfect circle in two seconds. Just like how no artist will make a masterpiece on their first try. It takes time, practice and hard work. One day, it will all come together to make something beautiful." He erased the pencil lines and handed me my paper. "Draw me something as best as you can, and I promise you'll get an A." My art teacher helped me understand that there are no mistakes in art, that it was all subjective. Only the artist saw mistakes, and it was okay to be self critical, but understanding towards the fact that you were human. I went on to submit art for competitions, and continue my passion into reading and writing. My teachers who have been there for me inspire me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose. I hope any child with any disability or situation to feel free to make mistakes and most importantly to learn from them. I no longer look for perfectionism, but for growth.

Before my Great grandfather passed away I thought he was just another sweet old man who called me "Mijah" and snuck me cookies under the table while my parents weren't watching. I never expected him to be so significant. The blood within my family runs green. Many relatives have served in the US Army, Air force, or Navy. My great grandpa is no exception, but he really takes the cake. He inspired so many of my family members to serve, but I never understood why. I never saw him in his uniform; I just always saw him hugging us or watering his garden. He loved to teach me songs or Spanish alongside my grandma and ensured everyone knew that they were valued and loved. He didn't like sitting around watching people work, so he always extended an open hand. He was our family's rock and didn't hesitate to hold us together. He was just simply my Abuelito, not a war hero. My Abuelito influenced my life so much that I decided to join the AFJROTC program at my high school. The first time he saw me in my dress blues his face lit up and he had the biggest smile. "Mijah!" he exclaimed "Wow! You look so beautiful, I'm so proud," he said, stroking my cheek. I knew in that moment I was going to continue making him proud. I dominated the program, soaring through the ranks and positions throughout high school. I won academic, community service, cadet, and national awards. I secured my position my senior year as vice corps commander, second in command of the entire 200-cadet program. Cadet Lieutenant Colonel, Camden Avants. The same rank he retired with. When I told him the news, he was overjoyed, but visibly tired. I gave him a tight squeeze and told him I loved him. I will never forget the last thing he told me. “Mijah. I am so proud of you. You have always been so smart and strong. You make my heart happy. I hope you know how much I love you.” I smiled and squeezed his hand. He always told me that, but I never knew it would be the last time. Unexpectedly, his health declined, and before I knew it, he passed away suddenly this October. At the funeral, I was amazed by all he had done within his life. In his casket, he was wearing his Army dress uniform, with an officer cap tucked under his clasped hands. An honorary American flag was draped over him. I gaped at dozens of medals that were displayed, Special forces banners, and insignias showcased before me. A sword laid on the table in its sheath as a 21-gun salute thundered as his cavalry strolled by. My great grandfather, Lieutenant Colonel Rubin Candia, had one bachelor, two masters degrees, and a P.H.D. He was one of the first founding green berets of the US Army and was involved in operations and missions in Cuba, Columbia, the Dominican Republic, and Panama. He completed a combat tour in South Vietnam with the 101st Airborne and Air Assault Division as an artillery major in 1967-68, where he was awarded the Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster. He taught at West point, the army service academy for 3 years, and was the head of the ROTC unit at Saint Mary’s college. He will always be my hero and I inspire to be just like him. I am pursuing a degree in education to honor his love for knowledge and legacy. I know every step I take forwards, he is here walking with me.

I was born to be a leader, but inspired to be a teacher. My entire purpose has been to educate, encourage, and guide my younger siblings, which has developed my passion for teaching. I am part of a blended family and transitioning from being an only child to adjusting to a new family is a challenge. I felt disconnected and uncomfortable, as if there were strangers staying in my home. I struggled because I was used to being alone and couldn’t relate to them. However, once my younger stepsister started school, I found myself drawn to her side at the small desk the two of us shared. She struggled in writing and reading; and watching her tear up in frustration ignited something within me. My best subject was English, I had a 5th grade reading level when I was 7. Surely I could help her. I guided her through spelling her name, practicing her sight words, and writing her letters. Surprisingly I kept returning to that desk every day after school, excited to see her progress. It was then I discovered the fulfillment of helping another person. I couldn’t describe the pride and satisfaction I felt when she came back one Friday with a bright 100 on her spelling test. As I got older I realized I was committed to helping people succeed. I developed into a devoted role model, dedicated to improving myself for the purpose of teaching. I learned everything I could in order to educate my sisters: Grammar, geometry, biology, anything I wanted to share. Not only had I started becoming studious, but I started to make more friends and discover new interests in school. I enjoyed helping other students who were struggling in class, and consequently I became more confident in my academic abilities. When I started high school and enrolled in the JROTC program I thrived in a team oriented environment and excelled in leadership roles. I adored instructing drill maneuvers and encouraging cadets to become confident leaders. My instructors took notice, sending me to team building camps in order to develop my leadership and teaching skills. Specifically one of my instructors helped me realize my potential. My freshman year I had been struggling with my self worth and my ability to be a confident leader. He encouraged me to do my best, and follow the people who recognized my potential. I became confident and driven, dedicated to doing my best. By my senior year I had gone from a member of the corps; to being second in command of the two hundred man unit. Now I am guiding underclassmen through the program and setting the example of what the ideal cadet should look like. I am proud to share my experiences and I am excited to see what others will take away from what I have taught them. I am so passionate about education and enjoy the possibility of what I can help others learn. I am excited to start this next chapter of my life to expand my horizons on my teaching capabilities. I hope to continue guiding others with patience, encouragement, and passion. Teaching is more than just a career path; it is the lifestyle I have embraced with purpose and love.

I plan to become a teacher to help kids who are struggling to have equal and encouraging opportunities within the public school system. Many young children in America are discouraged by their teachers. Despite there being many encouraging teachers who strive to build children's confidence and abilities, there are just as many teachers who bring them down. I want to be the teacher to encourage kids to be the best they can be, and add one more positive educator in the world to remind young minds they can do more than what is expected of them. Unfortunately I was subjected to some discouraging teachers growing up. I am a high functioning young woman with autism, but as a child possessing this disability some of my teachers struggled to understand. I was a gifted student in advanced classes, gifted and talented programs, and the destination imagination program. I didn't struggle in academics but the social aspect of being a developing kid. I had a teacher isolate me, or scold me for not fitting in. I was held after class, sat out from recess, and isolated from my friends because I was "distracting". It created this idea that I didn't fit in, or wasn't as good as the students within my class. Throughout elementary I struggled with group projects, getting out of my comfort zone, and confrontation. However during my middle school experience I had teachers help me become more confident and break out of my shell. The theater program and director helped me go from working tech, to being the lead in a play. She guided me and showed me how to be more confident and how to connect with my fellow cast members, ultimately shaping my future social skills. After I graduated middle school and entered high school I wanted to try something new. I enrolled into the theater department and into the AFJROTC program to push myself out of my comfort zone. I had instructors help me gain confidence and being raised in a Texan military family, discipline came naturally. “Yes sir” and “Yes ma’am” were second nature. I was polite, quiet, and a model student. As the year went on I felt my confidence growing, but when my theater teacher began criticizing me, I was blindsided. She disapproved of my mandatory wear of my dress blues uniform during rehearsals and resented my priority being my corps. After a disagreement over a grade, she told me I was “the most disrespectful, untalented, selfish kid” she had ever taught. I was stunned. As I walked through the double doors my instructor, noticed my discomfort and pulled me aside. I broke down, unsure of what I had done wrong. He listened, then simply said, “Don’t let one person dictate how you perceive yourself. Follow people who recognize your potential.” I left the theater program after that year and went on to win the Outstanding Cadet Award, a national award, and was selected as Vice Corps Commander, the second in charge of the unit to lead the two hundred cadets in the program. Without my instructor of my AFJROTC program I wouldn't have built the confidence to continue knowing my worth. He inspires me every day to help people recognize their potential and strive to become the best they can be. I am pursuing a career in education to help kids like me, misunderstood and misguided to understand they are more than is perceived of them. I want every child to know they are welcome in my classroom and I want nothing more for them to succeed in whatever path they choose.