Education has acted as the catalyst for reclaiming my identity and rewriting a narrative that once felt predetermined by circumstance. When I returned to school in 2021 to pursue a BFA in Photography, I was not merely looking for a degree; I was searching for a bridge toward a second act that felt authentically mine. For me, education became the technical foundation that turned my intuition into a professional voice, but more importantly, it became the anchor that kept me grounded through the most volatile years of my life. It gave me a sense of direction when the world around me felt aimless, transforming my perspective from one of survival to one of intentional creation.
The primary challenge I have had to overcome is a lack of stability that would have halted most academic careers. Since starting my degree, I have navigated the trauma of becoming homeless three times. During this same period, my husband lost his job of twenty years, leading us to seek a fresh start in Jay, Oklahoma. In a new town where we knew no one, the temptation to abandon my goals was immense. The logistical friction of displacement—the constant searching for a safe place to sleep or a reliable way to charge a battery—creates a mental fog that is difficult to describe. However, I found that my studies were the only part of my life that wasn't tied to a physical address. I learned to be relentless, finding connections in parking lots to attend virtual classes and maintaining my professional standards while living in temporary shelters. These hardships didn't just test my resolve; they gave me a sense of direction by proving that my purpose was unshakeable, regardless of my environment.
This journey has also been shaped by my ADHD, which I have come to view as a superpower rather than an obstacle. In a traditional world of linear thinking, neurodivergence is often framed as a deficit, but in my photography, it is the source of my hyper-focus. While others might see a desolate field as empty, my mind notices every detail of the "ugly-pretty" grit that defines the Oklahoma landscape. I inhabit the visual frame, noticing the specific texture of peeling paint on a weathered barn or the way the shadows shift across a cracked sidewalk during the blue hour. This ability to see depth in the overlooked has fueled my senior thesis, Bittersweet Symphony, and taught me that my perspective is my greatest creative asset. My ADHD allowed me to stay connected to my education through the chaos of homelessness because my brain is naturally wired for pivot and adaptation. It turns potential distractions into deep insights, allowing me to find patterns and solutions where others might only see disorder.
My education has also given me the direction to lead. Despite my personal struggles, I chose to lean into the RMCAD community, eventually serving as the President of the Photo Club and Co-Chair of the Student Leadership Alliance. These roles taught me that leadership is not about having the perfect circumstances; it is about showing up for others when you are still figuring out how to show up for yourself. It gave me a laboratory to practice the type of mentorship I hope to provide in the future. Through education, I realized that my voice carries weight and that my story of resilience can serve as a blueprint for other students who feel like the deck is stacked against them.
I hope to use my education to create a future defined by inclusive mentorship and professional excellence. My immediate goal is to launch C.Jae.S Photography, LLC, establishing a studio practice that honors the complex, narrative beauty of the rural landscape. However, my ultimate ambition is to earn an MFA and enter academia as a professor. I want to be a "multiplier," using my experience to support generations of all kinds of students—especially those who are starting late, navigating neurodivergence, or fighting through systemic hurdles. I want to be the educator who looks at a struggling student and tells them that their history is not a deficit, but the very tool that will make them an extraordinary artist.
By pursuing my MFA, I am preparing to teach a curriculum rooted in empathy and grit. I want to prove to my future students that a career in the arts doesn’t require a linear path to be significant. I want to show them that being a senior photography major at forty-six is not a sign of a late start, but a sign of a seasoned perspective. My goal is to build a legacy where the "non-traditional" student is no longer an outlier but a valued voice in the artistic conversation. I am using my education to build a future where art is a tool for survival and a platform for community growth, ensuring that the next generation of creators knows they have a seat at the table, regardless of where they began their walk. I am not a photographer in spite of my challenges; I am a photographer because of them, and I intend to spend the rest of my life teaching others to find that same power in their own stories.