Books have the power to shape our imaginations, challenge our perspectives, and guide our goals in life. For me, that journey began with The Witches by Roald Dahl. This book holds a special place in my heart because it was the first story that truly captured my imagination and jump-started my love of reading. What I found most powerful about The Witches was its ending. Unlike many stories that tie everything up neatly, this book left the boy still transformed into a mouse, yet accepting his new form and hopeful as he prepared to continue his adventures with his grandmother. The open-ended conclusion left me with a sense of wonder and possibility. I admired how the story did not simply wrap up with a perfect ending but instead invited readers to imagine the next steps in the boy and his grandmother’s journey. It taught me that sometimes life does not provide clear answers or easy solutions, but it is the journey and the perseverance that matter most. This message stayed with me and shaped how I view challenges, not as endings, but as beginnings filled with potential. The Witches was also my first experience noticing how book endings and their movie adaptations can differ. While the movie chose to give the boy a quick happy ending by turning him back into a boy, the book left the story open for interpretation. I prefer the book’s ending because it respects the reader’s imagination and reflects the uncertainty of real life. That openness gave me hope that even difficult situations can lead to new adventures and opportunities. This lesson from The Witches connects directly to my goals in education. Children, much like the boy in the story, are unpredictable and full of potential. They do not always have straightforward answers, and their learning journeys are often filled with twists and turns. From my experience working with students through organizations such as MentorGNV, BetterGradez, and Kappa Delta Pi, I have seen how powerful it is when young learners are encouraged to explore, ask questions, and face challenges with optimism. I want to be a teacher who fosters this kind of growth mindset. Just as the boy and his grandmother continue their adventure despite uncertainty, I want to help students understand that learning is an ongoing journey. Mistakes and struggles are not failures but opportunities to discover new paths forward. My goal is to create a classroom where students feel safe to take risks, know that their efforts matter, and believe that with patience and perseverance, they can overcome obstacles. Choosing to pursue a degree in mathematics with a minor in secondary education aligns with this vision. Mathematics can be a challenging subject for many students, but I want to help them see that it is also a subject full of discovery and excitement. Like the open ending of The Witches, I want my classroom to be a place where students embrace the unknown and approach problems with curiosity and hope. In summary, The Witches taught me that life’s challenges are often open-ended, and it is our attitude and resilience that shape the outcomes. This lesson fuels my passion for education and my ambition to become a teacher who supports students through their unique journeys. I want to inspire them to keep exploring, keep trying, and keep believing that their next adventure might be just around the corner.

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.