"Learning experiences" and other life lessons were not uncommon growing up as the youngest child of a Vietnam veteran. Some of my earliest and fondest memories from my childhood are of my dad suiting up in his lightweight faded fatigue jacket and and matching Boonie hat in the cooler months in Northern Arkansas. Growing up with him leading the household paired with going to school in the 90s and early 2000s in rural Arkansas, there was no shortage of opportunities to learn about what made America so great. In school I learned important lessons about American history and how she came to be, honoring Old Glory, the US Constitution, and so much more. At home it was much of the same, plus the hand-me-down lessons my father brought back from his time serving in the United States Air Force. Many of the lessons learned over the years wouldn't be realized or understood until years down the road. While I can't pin the first lesson specifically to his military service, I've always credited it to it; any time my brother or I would do something far-from-smart, would get hurt (with minor injuries), or wind up in a tough situation, the first question out of my dad's mouth was "did you learn anything from that?" I never realized it at the time, but even as a younger child that taught me to look for the lesson to be learned in all situations. As I got older and was able to contribute more, my dad taught me the value of hard work, and more-so the value of doing it right the first time. Before he was able to mow our two acres we had to pick up sticks and move them down to the burn pile. Around seven or eight years old I can recall being too small to push the lawn mower around, but we improvised by tying the handle up so I could push from a lower point on the mower. It worked out well for everyone because I was short enough to push it under the low branches of the apple tree. Once we all realized I was capable, I was certain of what I'd be doing at least one afternoon every week or so during the summer months. When I got a bit taller I inherited weed-eater duty to go with it. I could always count on having to go back if I missed a spot or didn't give it my best effort. Along with learning about the value of hard work and the do-it-right approach to everything we did, Dad taught us other important things about being in the workforce. I remember getting my first job at fourteen years old, and picking up a second during the summers, the message was clear that I was to never leave one job unless I had something else lined up, and that it wasn't ideal to make a move unless it was a step forward. I've carried that with me ever since and have yet to falter. The final lesson I'll mention, but it's neither the last nor the least, is what he taught me about family. Dad taught me that you always put your family first - especially before yourself. By doing whatever was necessary, working whatever crumby hours, doing whatever it took, he showed us what it looked like to sacrifice your time, energy, and comfort for those you love - the same mindset of the men and women of the military.

I have a heart for helping people and a knack for performing under pressure. Roughly twenty years ago I discovered that I, a small-town twenty-something with no real talents, could help people - whether that be working in a long term care facility, or in emergent situations rendering medical aid. I learned while working my first code in 2003 that the Lord equipped me with the unique ability to perform with clarity, confidence, and compassion when faced with potentially life-altering emergencies. After several years of working in my community's hospital I had to make a difficult decision to either continue my education and pursuit of becoming a paramedic, or to change paths and work for a large corporation in my town that'd better equip me financially to become a family man and do all things associated with that. I ended up choosing the latter as it would provide means to buy a house, get married, and provide for a family the way a husband and father ought to - but I have missed the work I had been doing immensely ever since. It wasn't until two years ago after I had to contact my rural fire department to put out an out-of-control brush fire that I was recruited by my neighbors and friends to join my local volunteer fire department. The decision to embark on the challenge was a no-brainer because I had been longing for quite some time to find a way to serve and positively impact me community. Volunteering in this capacity has given me the opportunity to help those in my community while giving myself a way to stay in touch with the gifts God equipped me with. Whether I'm responding to a structure, grass, woodland, or hay bale fire, or working traffic for a motor vehicle accident, I am blessed that I've got a heart to serve, the spirit to intervene in life's most dangerous situations, and a healthy body to do what I feel I'm called to do. While a college degree may never have a clear impact regarding my role as a volunteer firefighter, it undoubtedly will impact me, as well as my family, vocationally as it will open doors with my current employer, increase my chances in securing employment in the event my job is ever eliminated or my employment status changes, and most importantly it will help me teach my children that it's never too late to learn, and you're never too old to become a better version of yourself. Just like when you're battling a fire, applying some heat and pressure in life will most certainly shape you.