Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for Secondary Education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an "obvious" indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future secondary mathematics teacher, I plan on empowering others in the same way my dad teaching me how to braid my hair empowered me.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an "obvious" indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Whether it be tutoring, volunteering for National Honors Society, working as a childcare attendant and BCE student, or leading my fellow FBLA members as President, I love lending a hand, similarly to how my dad lent his hand to help me. Ultimately, this experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to empower others in the same way my dad teaching me how to braid empowered me.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for Secondary Education, so I can continue being that someone. I love moving to the lively beat of a playlist containing the best pop songs of the 2010s on my way to work at Kirkland Ranch Academy of Innovation. The music prepares me for the busy environment that is the front desk. Lucky for me, I thrive on multitasking; it makes life fun. Time is rather relative. Days seemingly go by quicker than others, especially when you are having fun. Handling students, parents, and phone calls all at the same time is quite difficult to manage, however surprisingly it is rather fun. I feel like I am playing a game, and each person has a different task I need to complete. When I am all done, I feel accomplished. With each day, I learn and progress. Multitasking is one of the best skills I have acquired from working as a Business Cooperative Education (B.C.E.) student. This skill, along with my improved communication skills, will definitely aid me in my future career as a secondary mathematics teacher. Working two jobs has affected my ability to manage my time, ultimately in a positive way. Since I work two jobs, I have to prioritize my time more efficiently since I have less free time to do what I need to do for school. Of course, finding a good balance between relaxing and working on school was difficult at first, but once I started using a calendar to schedule my time, managing my time became so much easier. Also, the skills I have acquired from my jobs have aided me in my time management and will aid me in my future career as an educator. Overall, the experience I have gained from my jobs was well worth the initial struggle of juggling them.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for secondary education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Whether it be tutoring, volunteering for National Honors Society, working as a childcare attendant and BCE student, or leading my fellow FBLA members as President, I love lending a hand, similarly to how my dad lent his hand to help me. Ultimately, this experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to empower others in the same way learning how to braid empowered me.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for Secondary Education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. This is why I plan on pursuing a higher education because as a secondary mathematics teacher, I can empower others in the same way learning how to braid empowered me.

Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant at the YMCA, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for Secondary Education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that. As for my financial circumstances, I have worked two part-time jobs for around two years to save up for college, however it is not enough to cover the cost of a bachelor's degree; and paying off loans on a teacher's salary is not exactly ideal. This scholarship would help take off some of the financial burden and allow me to focus on my goal of becoming a secondary mathematics teacher, which I would be extremely grateful for!

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. This realization hit me hard, but not as hard as the realization of what it truly meant for my mother to be an alcoholic. Before I even knew the meaning behind that term, I was attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings with my mom. At the time, I couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on; yet I always knew something was off. Whether my mom justified drinking a beer because it helped with colds, or she needed a certain bottle to help her sleep, my gut knew; but as a kid, I had no control. I had no control over when she would vanish and appear randomly, acting as if everything was fine. I had no control over my mother missing visitations, because she could not physically nor mentally handle watching me for a weekend. However, the one thing I could control was learning how to braid my hair. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a bachelor's degree in mathematics for Secondary Education, so I can continue being that someone, so I can continue inspiring others in a positive way. 2. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.

I love sinking into the softly somber melody of my personalized playlist on my way to work at the YMCA. It is peaceful, which differs from the somewhat chaotic environment of the Stay & Play. Lucky for me, I thrive on the unpredictability; it makes life fun. Children are nothing but unpredictable. From the questions they randomly ask to their actions, children are learning how to interact with the world and learning how the world interacts with them. As a childcare attendant, I nurture their curiosity. The future of education depends on our future educators, so it is of the upmost importance for our generation to facilitate the growth of the next. This starts by furthering their curiosity by answering their questions as the ones before us answered ours. I, too, was a child of curiosity who asked many questions. The answers only sparked more questions, but regardless of the ridiculousness of the question asked, someone always answered; now, I am that someone to others—this is what motivates me to pursue a career in education, so I can continue being that someone, like my dad was (and still is) to me. Truthfully, my dad's tenacity ignited my desire to teach. Raised by a single father, I felt like an outlier. While all my friends flaunted various styles of braids, from Dutch to Fishtail, I was stuck with a plain ponytail. Although not a seemingly important skill, my unadorned hair acted as a sign. I didn't know how to braid my hair since I was never taught. The credit behind their intricate knots belonged to their moms. Unfortunately, my plain hair represented the lack thereof - my mother's absence. Not wanting to accept defeat, I begged my dad for a Barbie Styling Head to practice on and practice I did. Right after school, I would rush home and immediately get to work. I watched countless videos, starting off with a simple braid. I repeated the directions in my head until I could hear it echo back. Try as I might, I struggled braiding the Barbie Head. Attempt after vain attempt, my frustration grew. I continued to practice, to no avail. The braid was still not quite right. I wanted to give up. Then, my dad intervened. He saw my frustration and instead of letting me wallow in self-pity, he practiced with me. Previously in the military for 21 years, a cop for 16, my dad is the rough-around-the-edges type to say the least, and yet, seeing him handle this plastic Barbie Styling Head with such gentleness, and his desire to learn to braid hair solely for my sake, inspired me. Together, we watched countless videos. Together, we struggled. Together, we grew frustrated. But, ultimately, together we succeeded! With my dad’s help, I learned how to braid on the Barbie Styling Head, and he also put his new skill to the test, braiding my hair. Since then, braids, which I once recognized as an ‘obvious’ indicator of my mother’s absence, took on a whole new meaning. Braids became synonymous with fatherly love, my father’s love. Instead of feeling like an outlier, I felt empowered as I walked into school swinging my braided ponytail from side to side. This experience taught me that education is a powerful tool; one that can empower others. As a future educator, I plan to use it to do exactly that.