Overall, I had always been a good student, an excellent student, in fact. My GPA never dipped below the coveted 4.0, yet math was always threatening to usurp my prized grade point average from me. I entered my sophomore year Chemistry class with blind confidence. I had always done well in science, and this class was no exception, that is until math was involved. The first quarter of the school year, my grade was teetering at the low end of an “A”. I couldn't balance equations and I couldn’t convert between liters and grams. Suddenly, my best subject became my worst. I was frustrated with my grades. I did all the class work, I listened during the lectures, yet I was not performing the way I knew I could. My friends spent countless time listening to me complain about math not belonging within science, until one day I checked my grades and I had an 89. Admittedly, an 89 is not a bad grade, but I knew I could do better, so I decided I would. Just doing the work assigned in class wasn’t enough. The second quarter of the year, I logged onto Khan Academy every night. I took notes and did practice problems, and I spent hours listening to the monotone voice of my virtual teacher. Slowly, my scores improved. I started teaching my classmates how to work equations, and people started coming to me for help. I was so proud of myself for improving on my own terms. Math had previously been a symbol of what I couldn’t do. It had been a reminder of my weaknesses, and I had viewed it as an immovable obstacle in my educational success. That year, my view of math changed. Math became a symbol of my willingness to improve, even when it wasn’t fun. I ended the fourth quarter of the school year with a 96 in Chemistry.

When I was twelve years old, I begged my mom to let me get Instagram. My argument was rudimentary at best: everyone else had it, I pleaded. Eventually, she gave in, and I was thrilled. I felt like a real teenager, even though I hadn't quite reached thirteen yet. I meticulously filled out my profile information, picked the perfect profile picture, and waited for the excitement to begin. However, after just a few days, I was disappointed to find that social media wasn’t as fun as I had imagined. At the time, the age of influencers hadn’t yet reached its peak, and the worst aspects of social media were still to come. Now, as an eighteen-year-old who has been on social media for six years, I see its increasingly addictive nature. Much of my time is spent scrolling without reason, lost in a sea of posts that often hold little value. After these sessions, I feel like I’ve wasted enormous amounts of time. I am ashamed of how frequently I reach for my phone, even when I have more meaningful things to do. In many ways, social media has stunted my creativity and limited my opportunities to learn. Before I had access to these platforms, I spent much more time reading and drawing—activities I deeply enjoy and that bring me fulfillment. Now, however, it’s far easier to pass my free time mindlessly swiping through posts. I often lament this habit, but I find myself stuck in an endless loop: I scroll to ignore my dissatisfaction, only to end up feeling more discontented. As I’ve matured, I’ve come to understand that my issues with social media are relatively tame compared to others. While I’ve been able to work on spending less time on these platforms, I know that many of my peers struggle with comparing themselves to the curated lives and filtered images they see online. This comparison culture can be incredibly damaging, which is why it’s important for everyone to make an effort to step back from social media. For me, spending intentional time with friends has been one of the best ways to break the cycle. Being present with people I care about helps me stay grounded and reminds me of the value of real connections. Every step away from social media dependence is progress, and I am learning, day by day, how to be more present, creative, and content.

My father enlisted in the Marines on his seventeenth birthday. He grew up very poor in rural Alabama, and much like many others who decided to enlist, he saw the military as a promise to live a better life than the one he grew up with. He served for four years. He lived in Okinawa, Japan, and in D.C., and eventually, he used money from the G.I. bill to pursue higher education at Auburn University. He often tells me that without his experience in the Marines, he would’ve spent his entire life in Chilton County, where he was born. He also told me that he would never let me enlist. On my seventeenth birthday, I built a Lego set beside my dad at the dining room table. The thought of becoming a soldier didn’t even cross my mind. My dad scrolled through the photos on his phone beside me as I snapped the plastic bricks together. He turned his phone to me to show off the pictures that he was most proud of and said, “I think I would’ve liked to be a photographer.” In that moment I realized how different his life was from mine, how without opportunity he must have felt at my age. I’m certain that he felt creative careers were completely out of reach. I think that military service is very honorable. I have so much respect for my fellow citizens who die in combat, and for the people who risk their lives to protect mine. However, I do wonder about people like my dad, the people who were born into hardship and faced even more in camouflage uniforms hoping that maybe their lives would improve. It doesn’t seem fair, but then, I suppose little is. My dad’s time serving the country was not easy. He slept in the snow, he ran countless miles toting thirty pounds on his back, and he returned from boot camp with his ribs jutting through his skin, but he did it all for me--even if he didn’t know it at the time. The life he provided for me is exponentially more abundant than the life that he had. Hearing my dad say that he would’ve liked to be a photographer broke my heart, but it also encouraged me to decide to chase my dreams within the creative field. I figured that it was my responsibility to do what my dad never felt he could. I hope to major in Fashion Business Management, a career that marries my interest in analytics and design. I’m not sure exactly where that field will take me in the future, but much like my dad, I want a life that is bigger than the one I had growing up. I want to be able to provide for my future family much like he did for his, but thanks to him, I don’t have to accomplish that by risking my life.

Overall, I had always been a good student, an excellent student, in fact. My GPA never dipped below the coveted 4.0, yet math was always threatening to usurp my prized grade point average from me. I entered my sophomore year Chemistry class with blind confidence. I had always done well in science, and this class was no exception, that is until math was involved. The first quarter of the school year, my grade was teetering at the low end of an “A”. I couldn't balance equations and I couldn’t convert between liters and grams. Suddenly, my best subject became my worst. I was frustrated with my grades. I did all the class work, I listened during the lectures, yet I was not performing the way I knew I could. My friends spent countless time listening to me complain about math not belonging within science, until one day I checked my grades and I had an 89. Admittedly, an 89 is not a bad grade, but I knew I could do better, so I decided I would. Just doing the work assigned in class wasn’t enough. The second quarter of the year, I logged onto Khan Academy every night. I took notes and did practice problems, and I spent hours listening to the monotone voice of my virtual teacher. Slowly, my scores improved. I started teaching my classmates how to work equations, and people started coming to me for help. I was so proud of myself for improving on my own terms. Math had previously been a symbol of what I couldn’t do. It had been a reminder of my weaknesses, and I had viewed it as an immovable obstacle in my educational success. That year, my view of math changed. Math became a symbol of my willingness to improve, even when it wasn’t fun. I ended the fourth quarter of the school year with a 96 in Chemistry.