Loss was always something that accompanied me throughout my life, like many others. With family members typically dying from old age and natural causes, I had thought nothing of the unforeseeable until 2021. April 27th, 2021, the day everything that I had known came crashing down. With my mom whipping into one of the bathrooms right next to my room, I heard such an animalistic cry that would soon transfer over to me. My mom had gotten the news that my Uncle Paul, the defender of my family, the person you’d go to for any type of advice, had lost the battle of depression. Hearing from my mom that he had killed himself left me in shock. I didn’t know how to react since he had masked his pain so well with his witty jokes and infectious laughter. He was and will always remain a hero to me. With his history of serving in the United States Marine Corps during Desert Storm, he had brought home something none of us could’ve ever understood—PTSD and depression. He had never vocalized what happened overseas, not even to his closest confidant, my mom. We all were in shock, grieving in ways that are unique to us. But during my grieving process, I was angry at myself. I didn’t know how I could’ve prevented this, though knowing I was in the eighth grade, I knew I wasn’t equipped or educated enough to handle such a situation. For days, I mourned, and the most consistent sentence I would often say to myself was, “Why didn’t I educate myself better?” This eventually invoked me to awaken my determination to enter the mental health field. It started with reading multiple research articles on depression, PTSD, demographics, and other topics to fill my palette. What soon turned into months and years of researching led me to no longer want to become a lawyer. Refining my education in psychology taught me about many topics related to disorders that often lead to suicide, such as self-harm, isolation, and other things. Though one thing stood out to me: the therapy methods used to help sufferers of PTSD. This specific aspect of mental health intrigued me the most, as it can be an enigma. Often, service members who have seen traumatizing events don’t get adequate mental health treatment, which is something I aspire to change. With my dream of becoming a psychiatrist, my one goal is to advocate for effective communication about mental health. Among men and women, men are statistically more likely to commit suicide. However, what I’ve noticed is that often it can be due to a lack of a support system, a reluctance to reach out and seek help. With my Uncle Paul, he knew that if he had reached out for his symptoms, he would lose his gun license, among many other things that made up his personality. To make a difference in suicide prevention can’t simply be solved by taking in clients; it must be through how we as a society perceive seeking help. In some households, even cultures, it’s considered taboo to speak up. For men especially, it can be dishonorable, which leads to masking emotions and even the “unthinkable.” By creating an adequate support system that ensures the safety of those experiencing PTSD among other disorders, we as a society may give those in a mental health crisis a reason to keep living—a reason to see life again in its entirety other than feeling as if their life holds no value.

Up until my junior year of high school, I struggled to find my true potential and recognize the unique aspects that define me. Whether it was researching new topics or trying new things, I never got the push I needed until April of 2024. It started with being in my AP Psychology class with my teacher, Mr. Vaughan. We were discussing universities, the application process, and extracurriculars that would make me stand out as an applicant. I mentioned that I participate in two different orchestras and do volunteer work within those orchestras. He asked me, “And what else?” I was taken aback and tried to list other menial extracurricular activities, to which he stopped me. He explained that although my background was strong, college admissions officers might see many applicants like me and not notice anything unique. This discussion prompted me to research and expand my horizons, making myself a stronger candidate for universities and giving back to the community that offered me diverse experiences. After my research, I decided to start a nonprofit organization to help young musicians who struggle with finances, such as purchasing or renting an instrument. Starting the nonprofit was challenging, especially finding board members. However, three months later, I partnered with my county youth orchestra. Not only has this broadened my horizons, but it has also inspired me to become more aware of the community I live in. Due to these recent developments, I feel confident that I am finally operating at my fullest potential. Without my exchange with Mr. Vaughan, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Uncovering my full potential has introduced me to a new level of volunteerism, allowing me to engage with my community in ways I never imagined. Reflecting on my journey, I recognize that Mr. Vaughan’s encouragement served as the catalyst I needed to unlock my true potential. His guidance pushed me out of my comfort zone and into a realm where I discovered how to truly impact lives. The creation of my nonprofit organization has not only enriched my life but will continue to make a difference in the lives of young musicians in my community. This experience has taught me the value of perseverance and pushing beyond set boundaries. As a future first-generation college student, I have discovered a newfound drive to continue refining my skills, breaking boundaries, and giving back in ways I never previously considered. With Mr. Vaughan sparking my interest and drive, he helped me build a foundation that makes me confident in my ability to face future challenges and opportunities with determination.