I took my very first steps inside the four walls known as NA, I accompanied my Dad in the earliest days of his recovery to meetings as he sported me on his arm, and I was witness to him overcome his battle with addiction and live a life that was free from drugs for as long as I can remember. He continued on enrolling in college and he helped implement a program called "Drug-Court" which was the first version of alternative sentencing for those facing drug related non-violent crimes, my dad became a Chemical Dependency Therapist, and he was an active role in so many peoples recovery journey. By the age of 9 I had listened to so many people share at meetings and speak at events that my reactions to their stories would mimic those of the adults in the room. A parental decision that many questioned him in, I was exposed to a lot of adult subjects but I would take the exchange for the level of empathy, compassion, and understanding I developed as a result if I was given the choice to go back. My dad did the impossible, and with the buzzer beater my family should've broken free from the chains of addiction. But we didn't. Instead, at 19 years old I watched my older-sister, my lifelong confidant, and my hero, lose the same battle. I remember thinking, "people don't die from addiction, this isn't right, this isn't how the story is suppose to go" standing at her bedside for the 12 days leading up to her passing. Sure, I had heard all of the stories that ended with jails, institutions, and death, sure I had heard the stories of loss and grief, but all of that aside, all I ever actually saw were the lucky ones, the ones who lived to tell the tale, the survivors. I hadn't actually seen addiction kill anyone, I knew it was possible but I never thought it would be the one person who stepped up as both mom and dad when our parents stepped out. The cornor says her cause of death was complications of longterm IV drug use, I think that's bullshit, I say her cause of death was a world ill-equipped to respond with enough compassion or knowledge to save the people that all should've, could've, and would've still been here today. I've since learned that all of the what ifs and the could haves, as tempting as they may be to uncover, only keep me perpetually stuck in the past holding onto any possible chance that her story ends differently than this. What matters now is what has happened, what did happen, and what I am going to do to prepare her children alongside my own children to live with hope, without fear of the future, when they have very much so already seen the worse sides of life. It took me 6 years to see a therapist, and day one started off with a diagnosis of PTSD, traumatic grief, or what they called, "a disorder that will last a lifetime" With all of the modern world focused on healing, this alone felt like another obstacle, how do I heal from something there is no known possible way to resolve? How do I encourage her children to navigate paths of healing, if I didn't even believe it was possible to do myself? This last year has brought significant change, I am adapting, evolving, and growing, keeping my grief tucked in my pocket close by always present. I use to pray for the day I would wake up and the emptiness that echoed in the space her voice use to fill with laughter, the day I woke up ready to face the day with a brave face, somehow far from the days I had spent reliving the pain of losing her once more. I know now that day may never come, and I have learned how to be okay with that, because sometimes in life, we don't have a choice. Sometimes, life doesn't give us time to go back. I have learned to allow sadness and joy to coexist within me, and I find comfort in those moments where my world falls apart again for they remind me that she was real, that she mattered, and now a days they are all that is left to remind me of the unconditional, unwavering love I was so lucky to have in our sisterhood. My plan is to continue to lead by example, and show my children that life can still be beautiful even if it is a different sort of beautiful than you originally expected it to be. My sister is counting on me, and I am counting on me too. I will change the world one day.

I was brought into this world by a man who prioritized his image of instilling in us the necessity of success over our mental well-being or happiness. At 21, my father looked at me and said, "I parent your baby sister so much differently than I did you guys, I don't think I ever even talked to you about being happy in life or mentally stable, I think I focused my entire approach around accomplishments, awards, and materialistic things over being actually happy." He was right, it took me well into my twenties to identify some of the ways this shaped my mentality and outlook, not just on the world but on myself. I recognized that I measured my own value and worth by the things I had done on paper, as if a CVV or resume could attest to my character, or who I have become as a woman, as a mother, and as a friend. I have always held myself to an extremely, arguably unhealthily high standard, I continually outperformed my peers academically, but if I didn't strive to beyond the best possible outcome or scores or grades, I felt the crushing failure. I never failed a class, I never had a single missing assignment, and I prioritized my academic success over my best interests, sports, friends, and family. My 4 years of high school turned out to be, unknowingly at the time, the last 5 years that I would get to have my older sister in my life. Oh, how I would've spent my time differently if I had known how little we had left, had I been aware of how numbered our days left with her were, I would've made spending time with her a priority. My accomplishments became fewer and farther between, and my confidence plummeted. When I returned to college after a 6-year break in my education, experiencing an complex emotional trauma, as a student with a lifelong disability- PTSD, you can imagine the first 3 quarters as someone who measured their worth by their successes and had rarely ever even faced failure. I almost dropped out every single quarter of my first year at UW, I thought I didn't deserve my spot, that I was not smart enough to be there, and the amount of disappointment I felt was crushing. What I had failed to account for, was the fact that I had never been a student with a disability that impacts ability to participate and function normally in daily life, or the additional academic barriers I may face as a result. I realized that academic success would only be possible by prioritizing my mental health, because MENTAL HEALTH IS HEALTH! I have since learned that success starts with being healthy. I have learned to be patient with myself, prioritize therapy, I have built up an incredible support system at school, and in my personal life. I have learned to be flexible, patient, and adapt, I have built resilience through the difficulties I have faced, and I make it a point to be mindful of the number of reasons I have to be grateful, I have learned to love myself, exactly how I am, and I have changed the way I think about success. I now define my worth in the legacy I hope to leave behind, and I raise my kids to do the same. While there are many things that are important in life, none of them are as important as one's mind and resilience, for our mind is the core of all that we hope and plan to do.

I wear my heart on my sleeve, at least that's what my dad has always told me. "It's a dangerous world and day in age to be sent off into the world with such a huge heart, and empathetic soul. I hope the world is as kind to you as you are to others" my dad would stress as sending me off into adulthood became closer. I didn't understand what he meant fully back then, but I do now. It's a cold world we live in, this world will chew you up and spit you back out if you let it, without batting an eyelash. I wish I could go back to being a child before I knew of greed, ego, or had come face to face with arrogance. It is because of my experience's that I place empathy at the forefront of my moral character, I believe that is the only hope for humanity and mankind. Despite my trials and tribulations, I try to elude nothing short of compassion and understanding to everyone I come in contact with. While I am not perfect and I have fallen short of that goal a fair number of times, it is that ethical code I return to and try my best to stand by. My older sister use to tell me I was going to change the world someday, and like many young children I had big dreams and hopes to do so with little feasible planning on how I would change the world. After 25 trips around the sun, I realized from experience there is always the opportunity to change many worlds, sometimes in the slightest or smallest of ways. Through acts of kindness, both big and small, I have done just that. Our social world is so interconnected and complex that often times we tend to get so caught up in our own lives we fail to identify the ways in which we are given countless ways to change the worlds of others we come in contact with. When I was 16 years old, I met a girl whom we'll just call "T" for now, through some mutual friends of ours. She was a very kind girl, very compassionate and full of life. I picked up on the fact the world had not been too kind to her, and when she began to tell me a little bit about her life, I said, "you've survived 100% of your hardest days, this too shall pass like it always has, you've already proven to have everything you need to make it" I didn't think much of it at the time, but we became quite close after that. For years, she was one of my closest and most trustworthy friends. Years after our first conversation she told me that message saved her life. Not only once, or twice, but many of times following, she would always think back replaying those words in her head and find the strength to persevere. I knew her mother, who loves her so dearly, and I knew how many times that may have kept the world as she knew it to be glued together. Or the countless times growing up that I would call my older sister beautiful, stunning, brilliant, or what I hoped to be when I got older, and the way in which by the time she reached adulthood she carried herself with her chin up as if the words I spoke were those of all of her peers. Or when I held the door open for a man who appeared to be down on his luck, and he said "It's okay ma'am you can go" under his breathe not daring to look up, "It's okay sir please, after you, my kids and I can wait" and my 4-year old asked him for a hi-five and the way this man's face lit up as if no one had ever shown him kindness before. "Wow, most people don't notice people like me, if they do it's to complain that we are around, but you guys- you treated me like I was a real person and that just made my whole week." My toddler insisted we offer to pay for his food, and we stayed to ask him about his story. Turns out, this incredible older gentleman who had been outcast from most of society, wasn't just homeless, he was a U.S. Marine Veteran who went on 4 tours to Iraq, saved 6 of his brothers in arms at the expense of his left hand, he spoke 3 languages fluently, he had a daughter who was killed by a drunk driver at 12 while he was overseas, and when he was medically discharged from the military, he lost his house, and then his car, and that day he was finally losing the last of all he had, his hope. Now if I started off by telling you that a McChicken could change the world, it would sound crazy. My stepmother was a VA benefits specialist, so I was raised to show the utmost respect to those who have served. I gathered his contact info, and I made sure he received her text before second round of hi-fives were exchanged, and we carried on with our day waving goodbye. "I never caught your daughter's name." "Destiny, and I'm Eva. Don't worry I am going to help you get things sorted out, you break it you buy it- even for the military" she introduced herself to him. A few years later he was awarded a purple heart, in his speech he said, "Now if you knew my story, you wouldn't believe a McChicken saved my life and I guess it didn't, there was one person braver than I was, see I did what I did without thinking. The true heroes are hidden everywhere, those who are courageous enough to remain humble and kind in a world that is very much not so." I can only hope that stands true.

When I was 19 years old I watched my sister die. My plans to pursue higher education were put out of sight, as overnight I went from planning my Autumn quarter classes to planning a funeral. "She wasn't suppose to die" my dad still remembers the call vividly, It's a memory I am okay with having lost. "She wanted to live, she wanted to get sober, why?" I cried, knowing this question was one I would never have the answer too. 3 days before she was set to leave for inpatient Opioid Medically Assisted Detox and Treatment, my older sister Amber experienced an unintentional opioid overdose. Doctors say drugs killed her, I think it was a world lacking compassion and understanding. A world, ill-equipped to address the fore coming mental health crisis. I rather think that love could've saved her, I loved her enough to save her 4 times over had I been given the chance. While her cause of death was identified by the coroner as, "complications of long-term intravenous drug use" I prefer to place blame on societies failure to practice the compassion needed for maximum global health, because truthfully, I don't want to blame her. While, growing up attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings with our father left us with more empathy and compassion than most of our peers, it wasn't enough to save her. This was a harsh and heavy reality. Dedicating my life to creating a more compassionate world has been my only comfort since my sister left me. When I get to share her story, spreading light on the realities of addiction, It makes me feel like her death is not in vain but that her memory lives on in those who recall stories of our interactions and in the lives of those who are touched by my story, her story. I like to advocate for those still battling addiction and I have since built a non-profit that helps families navigate loving someone with a substance use disorder, because for too long we have allowed people to normalize suffering in silence and when we only have conversations about mental health behind closed doors lives continue to be lost. It's not that science has failed us, not medical research failing, but a nation full of people who don't care until it's too late. Surely, a socio-economic issue as complex as substance misuse and dependency couldn't have such a seemingly simple fix, like smiling at a stranger or showing someone struggling a little compassion. But from what I have seen, even the smallest of gestures go a long way. While compassion in isolation won't repair the harms that stem from addiction, practicing empathy and taking it upon oneself to become knowledgeable about addiction and drug use does decrease stigma and shame. When we reduce stigma and shame, we encourage those who need help to utilize the treatment options and support resources available, and when people get help- they heal. When my dad and I set off on the non-profit journey, we had the goal to save just 1 life, because we know how valuable more time to heal is, even just one life. We've managed to reach that goal 18 times over since August of 2022, each time the victories hit close to home healing the tiniest sliver of grief. I will grieve forever, but I am learning how to be okay with that. I've committed my time on earth to fostering a more empathetic and humbler world, because stories of addiction no longer have to end with jails, institutions, or death, and my sisters doesn't now either.

I have found that I naturally gravitate towards non-traditional approaches to almost everything I do in life. While that has definitely brought forth significantly more failures than I would have faced had I errored on the side of caution, everyone once in a while it brings me results that aren't achievable by those who follow the path most taken. Growing up facing significant amounts of adversity, I was counted out often, I had to work harder and longer than my peers, I had to overcome more obstacles to find success, and quite simply put, the statistics of what I should've been capable of did not align with luxury of being able to afford taking traditional routes. At 15 years old I found myself surrounded by older adults, in my first course at my local community college, English 101. I had many plans to pursue higher education, my sister was 9 years older than me, and she graduated college when I was 9 years old, so I always tried to outshine her many accomplishments. She was the coolest person I have ever gotten a chance to know, so anything she thought was cool immediately became cool to me. She knew the value of applying yourself and trying in school, so she instilled in me the same. I wouldn't realize it until the year after my graduation, when she passed away, just how profound of an impact she had on me, and therefore educational goals and accomplishments were in hand shaped by her. I'll spare you the nitty gritty details of it all, but I am the only person that I have ever met that had plans to attend Harvard Law School. Which, notably, became part of my plans back when the first Legally Blonde movie was released. But anyways, the closest thing to it out of all of the people I have come in contact with, was what I call that "I wish I could'ves" already defeated by societal and economic forces influence- in translation meaning, "I would have to work really hard" or "Too much work, I wish it could be easy." You know, this one always makes me kind of chuckle to myself, especially considering that close to nothing about my life has been easy and nothing has just been handed to me. Not only have I had to work hard, but I have also had to work harder than most. That was always fine though, because working harder than most was always part of my plan because I didn't want to just become a statistic. I knew my experiences meant my probability of success were slim, odds of completing high school were against me, and the average child with comparable experiences has probably never set foot in a college classroom. Being a non-traditional student, I assumed would always be part of my plan, but I was okay with that in fact I embraced it. Traditional doesn't change the world, and it infrequently changes the worlds of others. My sister always told me I was going to change the world someday, as long as I am still here I'll do whatever it takes to make her proud. Sometimes in life, you have to step outside of the boundaries set by society, you have to step out of the box that others draw for you and set your own limitations. Anyone can get from A to B, but nobody can get there by following the man who walked before him, if the first man doesn't make it to B. Sometimes, non-traditional, is quite traditional for those who know nothing else.

The difference between ordinary and extraordinary can be seen in not only the individual, but also by the reach of the influence he has on those around him. LeBron Jame's was an talented, relentless, and determined basketball player, teammate, coach, and athlete. In his professional career he has scored over 36,000 points, appeared in 20 All-Star games, and holding 10 NBA Finals appearances, and stat's that look like they are made up, it's not just his performance that makes him the greatest of all time. While certainly that is a part of it, his influence on other players and teams just by his presence reflects. He influences his team and carries to victory players that reportedly also outperform themselves when working with LeBron. His background and up-bringing were filled with adversity, and as a result he was one of the few who are able to take the sum of their experiences and use them to become resilient. He learned early on in life that if he wanted to be notably great, he had to be the guy that kept going when everyone else threw in the towel, when everyone else settled or gave up. He became the greatest of all time because he didn't give up, while nobody's going to win every single game of their career, LeBron put up impressive stats, but nobody wins all the time. 527 games he lost, can you imagine wanting to be the best at something and five-hundred-twenty-seven times you lose? The average adult gives up after 5 failures. Just 5...which means that almost 106 average individuals would've tried and failed and tried and failed until they gave up and after the last person faced failure and gave up, LeBron was still putting his all into his goal of becoming the greatest. In a society that draws a line attempting to tell minority groups what they can do and what they are capable of, LeBron James wasn't just a historical professional athlete, his story has become a legacy that has influenced society by showing those who are watching from the crowds, sidelines, or from TV's in their home that African American young males are capable of so much more then the stereotypes and stigma that clouds them. When you have talent people notice, and when you put your heart into something and you give it your all, it doesn't matter if your poor, or BIPOC, it does not matter what society tries to define your capabilities to be if you can keep standing back up and keep trying through 527 losses, you may just end up being the greatest of all time. Being great isn't about winning, the law of averages says even experts while less likely to fail, inevitably face failure at some point in their careers notably more then a handful of times. The mindset to understand that, and keep your mental state engaged and focused and confident, it makes all the difference in the world. It's almost insane to think about how a man that is even being discussed as potentially one of the greatest, has failed 500 failures, and despite that the fact that he has even made the cut for discussion of the greatest ballers of all time tells you all you need to know. LeBron James is the greatest of all time, and as long as he can still play he's leaving no time for anyone to catch up, he has changed the game of basketball parallel to the path he has forged for children just like him to know they too can be the greatest one day.

When I was 19 years old, I watched my sister die. Before September 5th, 2024, I had spent my entire life looking up to her. She used to bring me desert when I would get sent to bed early whenever I got in trouble as a young child, she would sneak past our grandma pretending she had a cup of water and share her ice cream with me after lights out. Growing up in the early 2000's where societal beauty standards of women were plastered on billboards, in advertisements, and across the media, it was imperative to my cognitive development to have such a strong female role model in my life that encouraged me to value intelligence over beauty. She taught me how to live with courage, and most days I refuse to admit it, but deep down I know that she prepared me to be exactly who I needed to be. Last August, I got a call from my teary-eyed niece, with her first day of high school just around the corner, she cried "I don't want to go to high school, I don't want to grow up without mom." I thought losing my sister was the hardest thing I would ever go through, turns out watching her babies grow up without her here the way I had her here at their ages is so much heavier. She passed away the same month I was set to begin my bachelor's degree, and I never thought twice about pursuing the goals she instilled in me after that. Just like my niece, I did not want to move forward with grief. "I'll go back to school if you go to school, we can do it together" I replied finally breathing out slowly as I didn't think I just spoke. ".....really" she said quietly between sniffles. I paused, taking in the totality of the commitment I was making, "Really. Plus, that way we will have diplomas to show her when we see her again up in heaven, I think she'd be really proud." Not long after that conversation, both of my nieces moved in with me. I am proud to share that I just completed my first full 4 quarters, or the halfway point, of my BA degree as part of the 2nd best globally ranked program of its kind. With two toddlers and two teenagers in tow, they are accompanying me witness to my accomplishments. It's funny looking back, as adults we often catch ourselves doing things that we said we would never do. I didn't think I would ever return to school without my sister here, and here I am listening to lectures in my air pods while chasing two toddlers around during a volleyball practice, demanding silence in the car so I can write my final essay using talk-to-text in my notes while rushing one kid somewhere before taking another kid their lunch since they left theirs on the bus. It's not traditional, it's definitely not what I thought everyone meant about being in my "roaring twenties." It's time society stops discouraging parents from pursuing their dreams, that we stop telling children they are the reason we have settled into mundane and monotonous lives, and we lead by example. Being a mom will always be my first priority, but accomplishing the goals I set after lights out in the room my sister and I once shared will always follow, because when we chase our goals and overcome adversity, we teach our sons and daughters to do the same thing. Resilience is learned, and learning is power. Thank you.

I went to my first Narcotics Anonymous meeting sporting my newborn car seat accompanying my dad during the earliest days of his recovery. Inside those same 4 walls known as "NA" I learned to walk and took my first steps; I established my earliest social bonds, I built lifelong connections with adults and children with experiences comparable to mine, and by age 9 I had listened to so many speakers at dances, campouts, and annual conventions that words like "relapse" and "overdose" no longer phased me. I knew what they meant, I heard how impactful the outcomes of these events were, how dangerous substance use was, and despite hearing so many stories of loss when I was 19 years old drugs ruined my entire life. The catch? I never even had to do them. On August 28th 2018 just 2 days before her bed date for treatment, my sister experienced an unintentional opioid overdose that left her fighting for her life in the ICU. I sat beside her bed for 11 grueling days while we waited for good news, it never came. On September 5th, 2018 I told her I loved her for the very last time, and I held her hand as she made her way to wherever it is we go when our time on earth concludes. It took me two years to acknowledge what we experienced was in fact reality, it took me 4 years to recognize that some things we carry with us forever, this loss was going to be one of them. If anyone knew better it was us, my Dad maintained his sobriety, he eventually returned to school, and with 10 years clean he facilitated the implementation of the Thurston County Drug Court program, and yet somehow she managed to slip through the cracks of a broken system in a broken world. My sisters use to always say that "stories of addiction shouldn't have to end with jails, institutions, or death, but instead with the reconciliation of families, with immense pride, stories of addiction should end with hope." At the start of year 5 without her, I indulged myself in the only place where I found comfort and I began volunteering 40-60 hours a week to get a non-profit organization off the ground fighting to make her dream, a reality. As I approach year 6, I have finally returned to college, and I am completing the goals she engrained in my mind as a young child. The work that I have been lucky enough to participate in here in my local community saved my life. My sister's Overdose Education and Naloxone Distribution project has distributed almost a half of a million dollars' worth of potentially lifesaving medication in rural areas of Northern California, it has expanded access to over 22,000 Americans, and most importantly it has provided a confirmed 16 families more time for healing, more life, and most importantly it's made her idea of a utopian society a reality. Stories of addiction are no longer ending with jails, institutions, or death, no. not anymore. Thanks to developments and advancements in addiction sciences and medical research, nobody else has to die, I learned how to speak of my sister with initial hopes of decreasing stigma and shame, it seemed outlandish to hope to save a life. One reversal quickly became 5, and then 10, and before I knew it our first year concluded with CDC reports of a downward trend in fatal overdoses for the first time since she passed. We did it, together were changing the world. Her story's still not over.

I was 19 years old when I watched my sister die, and the entire world as I had always known it to be came to a crashing halt. Overnight, I was thrown into a world where my sister no longer existed and that was one that for 5 years I simply had no desire to be a part of. Caught somewhere between the past and this new forced reality, traumatic grief consumed every aspect of my life as I fought equally as hard to hold onto her memory as I did to let go of it. I spent my entire life wanting to be just like her, aspiring to make her proud. I have spent hours and hours writing about my sister, but I have accepted the conclusion that words will never be enough to fully explain how significant of a hole has been left in time and space that once was filled by my sister's passion, advice, laughter, guidance, and love. My sister dreamt of a world where stories of addiction no longer ended with jails, institutions, or death but instead with immense pride, the reconciliation of families, and hope for the future, & I knew she didn't hers couldn't just end here either. I have spent countless hours with grief, rage, despair, and loss until I learned each one of them by name, only then the quiet room known as acceptance could I repurpose them to fuel a passion that made life worth living again. I didn't save my sister but I find comfort in knowing that I can save other families from facing the same reality as mine has, and by doing so I allow my sister to live on in the memories of every family given more time to heal and every individual who is given another chance at life. I sat down with my Dad 3 years after my sister's death, and we came to terms with the fact that if we were going to be here we were going to fight like hell for the lives of those still battling the disease known as addiction. We decided to stop taking life for granted. Promising her to do everything we could to build a more educated and compassionate world. I am now the founder and co-director of a non-profit organization I began alongside my community, that serves the entire West Coast as one of the biggest rural-based OEND (Overdose Education/Naloxone Distribution) projects of our time. In my sister's honor, we share our story with communities and we use our experience to foster a deeper level of understanding and empathy because loving an addict is only hard until you have to bury one. I am currently in the number 1 ranked B.A. Social Sci. program, where I hope to turn my efforts towards policy change reconstructing the entire system that has proven insufficient. Nowadays, I see so much of my sister in who I am becoming I know she is never too far away.

When I was 19 years old I watched my sister die, ironically enough however it was my life that seemingly ended over and over again with each day that passed without her. September of this year, 2023, marked 5 years without her and I can still see the lasting impact she had in almost every aspect of my life. Despite our sworn-by-pinky promise to be best friends for life when we were 8 and 16, we had no clue that time would only allow for another 11 years. my older sister Amber has continued to have a profound and unparalleled impact on me. From the day that I was born, she was my guardian angel and confidant, she played the role of both of our parents who seemingly dropped the ball more times than I can count, but most of all she taught me to be brave, resilient, and after her death I learned what things truly hold any value in this world none of which can be bought. Growing up in a day in age where societal beauty standards were plastered all across the media and television, it was crucial to my early adolescent cognitive development to be witness to my sister's refusal to conform but instead prioritize her education and career goals over any value of beauty. As a result, I am now in the last leg of my bachelor's degree as one of 600 students to ever be offered a chance at obtaining a degree in the world's number-rated bachelor program. "Beauty is subjective, anybody can be beautiful- not just anybody can become a surgeon, doctor, or change the world. Don't waste it Dee." I still hear her voice in my head as if we were back to 8 and 16 again. If you had asked me the day her team of doctors told us that she had little to no brain activity left giving her a less than one percent chance of ever surviving off of life-sustaining support I would've told you that by today there's no chance I would still be here. I didn't want to live in a world without her, and I still don't. My sister taught me everything except how to live without her, it took me a really long time and many tears to realize that she gave me all of the skills that I needed to become who I am meant to be. Shortly after, I found out I was pregnant with my son and I have no doubt that she hand-picked him just for me. Over the last 5 years I have grown as a mother and woman in ways I never imagined, and there is so much of her in who I have become I know that she's never really as far away as it feels. However, what I value most that I gained from my sister is my ability to believe in myself and beat the odds 100% of the time. No matter what situation I am faced with, I know that if I can take a step back, allow time to process, and make a plan there is not a single thing that I can not accomplish under the sun. I know this because I watched her do it.

I was 19 years old when the world ended, the world that I had known it to be for the entirety of my life at least. The world where my sister and I coexisted, I was loved unconditionally, a world I could've never prepared to watch end. Growing up, my plans for the future changed frequently as my knowledge of the world expanded, but one thing remained true in every dream I had developed- out do my older sisters' many impressive academic, athletic, and personal accomplishments. Our 9-year age gap saved us from typical sibling rivalry, I wanted to be just like her but she always pushed me to become even more. One day you are 8 years old with your entire life ahead of you, and the next thing you know you sitting at your high school graduation and making your first set of "real" plans for your future. With my AA complete, I no longer had the luxury of waiting to declare a major. Being most passionate about learning itself, and having little desire to become an educator I was stuck, and had my life not taken a turn for the worse I probably would've never found a way to turn my dreams into realistic goals or plans. A little behind schedule, thanks to grief and loss, I am now enrolled full-time at the University of Washington as part of the Autumn 2023 cohort of Integrated Social Science Students. Over the remainder of the following year to two years I will be pushed to develop the critical thinking and communication skills necessary to build the career of my dreams. Centered around advocacy and community outreach, I aim to analyze societal structures and other variables impacting the quality of life to help create feasible, applicable, and strategic plans to increase opportunities for youth and adults with the overall goal of lowering organized crime and violence rates, decreasing poverty through economic development, and fighting to put an end to the substance use crisis America is currently facing. By educating communities on realistic and simple ways they can take action, a new found sense of hope is implemented. With a new sense of hope comes a level of trust, and that is going to play a key role in my success. Connecting with a diverse network of community members is essential, because although I will come prepared with knowledge of how society works It is the members of the community can provide insightful data that would otherwise take years to gather or analyze. The more involved one feels, the more likely they are to comply. As individuals, we are limited by the constraints of time, accessibility, individual knowledge, and capabilities, but when we work together we become truly limitless. Similar to the structures used in clinical psychology, I plan on modeling a "patient first" or "patient-directed" care approach- the patient being used in parallel with community members. I currently volunteer full-time as a director of a nonprofit that was created in memory and honor of my older sister. I am the current strategy officer and handle the oversight of our community outreach team. Having the opportunity to work alongside other experienced individuals with much more knowledge than I have has in many ways helped shape my career goals. After my BA is complete, I have plans to attend graduate school and transition into the research side of social sciences and contribute to our current level of understanding of humans and human interaction. Scholarships are essential to my ability to access a quality education and gain the knowledge to change the world.

When we are born into a way of life, perhaps in another country where societal or family norms are far from that of a traditional U.S. household, one does not grow up missing the ways of life here simply because he has never known any other way of life. You can't experience a true longing for something you did not have, therefore acceptance is far less of a challenge- one of the greatest attributes of being part of my generation. While the older generations lived through the direct aftermath of the Great Depression, even those who managed to be spared from the devastating effects of the 1930's did not fall short of hearing about the stories of poverty, hardship, and challenges their parents, grandparents, or other adults faced. So much so that even today the majority of kids have likely heard stories from family members passed down from generation to generation. There was very little that could be done to prepare for the collapse of the U.S. economy for the average household. Taking into account next, that they lived in a day and age where communities could only become dependent on one another and outside resources or assistance in times of trouble were scarce to nonexistent. It can be hard to imagine a world where our neighbors would be the only possibility of help in a time of war and poverty, and even harder to imagine how that would look if they were facing the same hardships as your household. While much of their 20's-30's were spent consumed by focuses primarily being centered around survival, regaining economic status, and things such as housing and food security, only to have the next generation blaming them and complaining that there was still more work to be done- I find their resentment to be quite reasonable when looking from their perspectives. Gen X had identified that on a consumer level, the average American could do little to nothing to control the stock market the precedents switched gears to focus on what was in their control and instead worked towards preventative measures and strategies that would prevent history from repeating itself. These are all the solid foundations in which Millennials have had the stage set for them to thrive more than any other generation. While socioeconomic issues may seem comparable at first glance, there is a silent luxury that no other generation before has been given. That is the luxury of security and security allows for the focus to shift once more only this time allowing the time to collect evidence-based research necessary to analyze the last hundred years of history, and piece by piece deconstruct these intricate systems in which our country is comprised of, such as food security in the U.S., affordable housing availability, equality in the workplace, workers, civil, and human rights, and instead lay the groundwork that will serve as actual long term solutions and preventative measures to expand to prevent the problem itself instead of reducing the amount of harm stemming from their collapse. The Millennial Generation will be The Greatest Generation 2.0 because they have come together and they are demanding necessary change. However, it is the first time in history that a generation will be gifted the luxuries needed to find true solutions, the security that lies with having accessibility to government-assistance programs that prevent starvation, prevent families with young children from becoming unhoused, and society as a whole is encouraging higher education for all adults which only strengthens economic status and security within each household structure. My grandmother was shamed for her desire to pursue higher education, without a rich family or worker's wages, she had no way to afford college. This year, I enrolled at the University of Washington and was granted acceptance into a program that is ranked 2nd globally, and if my husband were to not support my educational goals I would still be responsible for only $12,000 out of pocket with the responsibility another $10,000 in repayment of student loans, totaling less than half of one year's wages, in exchange for a $96,000 degree, internship, and the experience that will make me competitive in the workforce while simultaneously raising my income to an average of $100,000 per year. All while my husband has the same opportunity, moving my family up two tax brackets for less than $50K. It's easy to look like you are the greatest when your accomplishments outweigh those of others, but if it was those individuals who spent yesterday fighting for the opportunity you are presented with today who is really the greatest? Life is all about perspective. Millennials will only be "The Greatest" until the next generation begins to outweigh their accomplishments. I mean that is the goal after everything is said and done, right? Leave the world a little better than you found it, stand up for what you believe in, and imagine the opportunity that will be presented to your grandchildren 20 years from now. My generation is only the greatest today, because our grandparents were the greatest of yesterday, and tomorrow our kids will be the greatest, Why? you may wonder, because there is no use in being the greatest of all time, we simply want to be the generation that was the greatest of our time and in unison let that be what we pass down for the generations that follow.

6 years ago I would not be able to answer this question, 5 years ago I desperately needed the answer to it, and as I brainstorm how I am going to answer this prompt I begin to cry because I know now what it is like to live with mental illness and only after being trapped by your own mind- do you truly see the value of what it means to be mentally well. I used to identify the different phases of my life based on who I was living with and if my stepmom and father were drinking, using drugs, or in recovery. I was well into my 20s before I even began to recognize my childhood as being as traumatic as it was. However, it wasn't until my older sister died in front of me and I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder that I finally understood why we need to change how mental health disorders are addressed here in America. Mental health is the very fine, and oftentimes invisible line between simply surviving and actually thriving and enjoying life. Until you find yourself on the other side of the line, It can be challenging to even see the other side or know where this line falls. Before my sister died, I thought I knew it all as most teenagers do. When she passed she took all of my motivation, drive, and happiness with her as I like to say. It took me so long to understand the depths of mental wellness and climb my way out of this dark, hopeless, and depressing fate. Since conversations about mental health were never common in my family during my childhood, I lacked the knowledge on what to do and it took me over 3 years to find the courage to ask for the help I needed to be mentally healthy. Now I make mental health the top priority in my life. Every day I take multiple measures to ensure that I am able to enjoy life to its fullest and handle hardship and stress whenever it arises. Journaling is a part of my daily routine and helps me understand and track my emotions and emotional reactions. I spend at least an hour outside every day being active with my kids, I make sure that I get a full night's rest even when it means putting off chores, and I watch what I eat to ensure that I am getting the nutrition that my brain and body need. While these things seem minor or mundane they are a vital part of what I call "not making things harder on myself." By taking care of myself in these ways I allow my brain to focus on emotional stability and give myself the best chance at truly thriving. At the end of each day, I write down 10 things I have to be grateful for. I've learned that this has helped me to focus on the positive things in my life. It has created an armor that makes it much harder for the sadness to consume me, and when it does it gives me the power to overcome it. Only those who have lived with mental illness know the true value of mental health. It is a conversation that should be had in every home because having the knowledge I have now could've given me those 3 years of my life back. More importantly, it could've saved the lives of all of those who died as a result of their mental illness. I am lucky to be someone who lives with mental illness.

I come from a town where people will die for their coffee and possibly lose their jobs before they'll refrain from turning into whichever coffee stand is along their commute. Living in Seattle coffee is a normal part of pretty much everybody's routine, so much so that it was considered an essential business and allowed to operate when COVID-19 shut everything down. I was shocked to discover other places in the United States don't have the "coffee craze" known as drive-thru coffee stands between 7 am-8 am. Pumpkin Spice Iced Chai with Breve and Whip, I had ordered it for my sister so many times it was engrained in my permanent memory bank long before I knew what that was or what Breve even meant. I was never a huge pumpkin fan, I never took a liking to pumpkin pie, but I always found the scent reminiscent of fall time throughout my childhood. My sister was one of the people you would've expected to be black Friday shopping far before you would've guessed she was just going to get a coffee. I've seen some crazy black friday throwdowns between people, but nothing compares to the things I have seen while 10th in line at the only Starbucks before the freeway entrance. My sister would take me to school and drop me off some mornings, and those were my favorite. I knew that she wouldn't skip the starbucks line even if it meant I got to school at lunchtime! I'd scam our dad out of $2 to contribute to the coffee fund and if I were lucky she would get a large and then let me take the last of it to school with me, and at 10 years old any coffee was better than hot chocolate. By the time I was 16 and driving myself around, It was the only coffee I'd order. I still am not quite sure if that's because I have really grown to like the iced chai so much or if I really just still don't know how to order anything else, but who cares! I swear people just make up words when ordering, I tried that once- turns out they're all real drinks because the barista looked at me crazy when I said a "Hazelnut Quad Pequeno Dulce De Leche light on the ice please." It's safe to say that even if you don't end up consumed by the coffee antics in the Pacific Northwest one way or another you're still likely to find yourself regularly stuck in that treacherous line. Luckily here in Seattle, it's acceptable to walk into work late holding a coffee- and blaming the line and on a cold, dark, windy autumn morning I am SO okay with it!

"The totality of everything in existence," a common defining phrase when referencing the universe, a simple and easily digestible answer but it's missing a vital factor. The Universe is comprised of the totality of everything in existence, as we know it. The more that we understand the more that we can do, from turning on our light switch in the morning to having pressurized cabins in passenger aircraft, our understanding of how the world works and the laws of physics and proven science shape hundreds of things in our lives every single day. The majority of these things seemingly go unnoticed, perhaps because we are accustomed to the luxuries that are a result of our comprehension of the world. Information passed down generation by generation, over time has changed the entirety of how we live and experience life itself. In school, I have always had a heightened interest in science, I like tangible, factual, "right or wrong" assignments, projects, and experiments. However, science also allows for infinite growth and discovery. Concepts such as deep time give us stipulations that will continue to guide how humans direct and spend their time and energy. The sun is less than halfway through its lifetime, meaning there is more time laying ahead of us than before us. This validates the continued focus on exploring the universe and all that it encompasses, so like those before us, we can also pass along information to future generations. Understanding the universe is the key to how we got here, and it is the vital step between today and all that lies ahead of us. But will all of the countless research we do to contribute to the greater good and inclusive understanding all be for nothing? We would be smartest to assume so because as our understanding of the world deepens science often time proves even its own facts to be fiction as the rules of every interaction evolve. Provisional at best, these are the guiding catalysts that somehow shape our world enough to allow the development of man and what man has made to create a world and universe so vast that by the time we understand it at all our turn will be over and our names may go down in history books- but only until the cycle repeats itself and then our feats and discoveries too will be quickly written over, again and again, and again, as infinite as the universe itself.

I took my first steps as a baby inside of the 4 walls known as NA. (Narcotics Anonymous) I spent my much of my early childhood accompanying my father to meetings every Friday and Tuesday night. I’ve been to more camp outs and dances than I can count, and had listened to so many speakers share at NA conventions, events, and meetings before I was old enough to grasp any concept of what anything meant, that by the time I was old enough to understand what was being said my reactions mimicked that of many adults in the room rather then that of a 9 year old. Identifying people separate from their substance use disorder was never a choice for me, the compassion, understanding, and empathy was engrained in me before stigma had a chance to influence my social-emotional habits or beliefs. It was pretty easy to understand when you see people as dad, and his friends become more like family and you see these people as “uncle Kenny, Chris, and the DJ, Rick from the dances!” before hearing how their lives were forever impacted by a substance use disorder. In the early 2000’s addiction hadn’t been medically recognized as a disease or diagnosable medical disorder, but as a child you’re seemingly unaware of the shame and stigma that surrounds those you see twice a week, spend holidays with, and their kids you grow up along side of. Despite the early exposure, open conversations, and the very early education about substance use and addiction if we flash forward another decade I’d have a story that was unlike any of those I heard in my childhood. By this point my father had become a chemical dependency counselor and facilitated therapy for the drug court county program in Thurston county, WA- so the irony of my sister ending up in front of his desk was something no one expected. We knew better, we had heard all of the horrible outcomes and we knew the risks. How could she be battling addiction, and how did no one recognize the signs? I get two more years with her, although I don’t know if at the time. It’s 2018, everyone is so worried about Covid 67,000 die as a result of overdose and no one bats an eye, she’s one of the 67,000. Our pleas and call for social reform and substance use education are drown out by Covid death counts and news of a stay at home order. Her life ended on September 6th 2018 but it was my life that was seemingly ending over and over again as the world kept spinning without her. I wouldn’t wish this on anybody. The last thing my sister said was she loves me, before that she tells me she’s afraid if she dies she’ll be forgotten, the last thing I tell her, I promise the world will remember you long after I’m gone. She lives on in me and I find the strength to start right where I’m at, with plans to change the world. But first I must gain the credentials to make my words hold their weight, I’ll do whatever it takes. Stories of addiction shouldn’t end with jails institutions or deaths, she was right. I won’t let her story end their either. The only comfort I have found is in preventing other families from my reality becoming their reality.

Statistically, I was set up to fail more times than I could count. My sister didn't live to see 28, my brother never completed high school and has struggled with mental illness much of my life, my dad's a recovering addict- or so he likes to call binge drinking and emotional abuse, my mom was diagnosed with autism after 40 and has lived off of the system my entire life. I was lucky that my grandmother was willing to take my siblings and me in and raise us, that was until I was 14 and she died less than 6 weeks after receiving a cancer diagnosis. I learned how to take my first steps inside the 4 walls known as Narcotics Anonymous, and I never woke up for school late because if I slept through my alarm nobody else would wake me up and if I didn't excel in high school college would've been out of the question, and if I couldn't complete college- I would be doomed to fail, If I failed I was inevitable to become another number, another statistic, another product of my environment, and I refused to let where I came from have any part in the story of where I ended up. I was determined to build a beautiful life for myself, seemingly because all I had ever known was far from that. I learned early on in my childhood that there was little that could be done to control the cards life hands you, so instead I focused my attention on what I could control, the only answer I found was myself, how I respond, how I play the cards in my hand. I've faced adversity so many times, I never shy away from eye contact, I keep my chin up and my shoulders back and my poker face could fool God himself. There was little that could impact me, I thought I had seen it all, and I was confident that I could not be shaken by life. So, when I found myself standing in an ICU while my older sister was taken off of life support following an unintentional overdose I had no clue just how cruel life could get. See, when you spend your childhood in a burning house you think every house is burning- and most people approach adulthood, navigate their childhood trauma and learn how to survive in a world that is not full of burning houses, but when it was my turn to do so I was thrown into a world where there were no houses at all, everything was dark, and for the first time in my life I gave up. Luckily for me, my sister spent all 19 of those years prior instilling in me a passion so significant, worth and confidence so astounding, and a purpose far beyond anything I would've expected that even when I gave up I never counted myself out. 4 years later, I built a non-profit organization in her honor that is fighting to change the way society views mental health and addiction, and is educating the world on recognizing and responding to an overdose, because my sister died- but yours doesn't have too. The world may give me more pain than I can bear on some days, but as long as I am living I will continue to make gold of it all. I know how fragile and precious life is, I know how many people didn't wake up today, and how many won't wake up tomorrow, so every tomorrow I get to see has to be for a reason.

The Boof Thief by Markus Zusak has been the most influential literature in my life so far. In fact, I largely contribute how I have managed to survive and begin to heal from the traumatic grief of watching my sister die and being forced to navigate a world where she no longer exists in this novel. It is based in Germany during World War II and follows the story of a 9-year-old girl, and how the words she read in books contributed to saving her life while Hitler was using them to induce harm and control and terror. It is a phenomenally crafted story and is packed with action and emotion equally. The part of this book that moved me the most, was Zusaks calculated approach at narrating the entire story from the point of view of death. During the most difficult time period of my life, following my sisters death, there was not a single thing that anyone could say to even begin to settle in my mind in regards to understanding and accepting death. I was full of anger, hopelessness, the grief was eating me alive. During this period of isolation, I found comfort in escaping into the stories told in books as a way to find solitude in my own presence as I tried to make it through each day. The Book Thief challenged me to develop compassion for death as a character, and that unlocked my ability to begin navigating all of the layers of emotion. The story is told in a way that you don't become aware of this until the very last page, at which point I had already digested the points and objective of the story itself- so when it tied back around with death it established relevance at a point where I could not refuse to take in the lesson behind the initial story. Words are the most powerful tool humans have, and I identify the natural eloquence in my writings to be paralleled with what I have gained as a reader. Seeing how the story inside the mind of just one individual can alter the life of so many people for years to follow encouraged me to begin to share my writings, on a much smaller scale. It gave me the courage to share the words that had been pieced together in my mind, given my experiences, in hopes that it shall reach someone that needs to hear it as I needed to hear the words of The Book Thief.

Overdose has become the leading cause of accidental death in the United States of America, in fact it amounts to more fatalities then car accidents and murders combined. (Data collected by the CDC.gov) However, every single one of these deaths is preventable thanks to the development of pharmaceutical medical research in creating Naloxone. Overdose is one of the few public health emergencies that affects every demographic, in every city across our country. Once you start to share the facts with a community, it naturally flows to establish relevance in the life of any and every American. By setting a business up as a non-profit funding can be supported by federal grants that are readily available to combat overdose. Since we already have been provided with resources to combat overdose, the key now lies in getting people to CARE, before it is relevant to them or their families/friends. By normalizing these conversations, we then open up the dialect for those who are struggling and may benefit significantly from treatment to reach out for help and take the steps necessary to healing without fear of being shamed, judged, or stereotyped. Instead, we can build a world that is compassionate and caring and encourages support instead of pushing toward further isolation. By building communities that are trauma-informed and educated we set the stage for the next generation to grow up in a world where stories of addiction no longer end with jails, institutions, and death but instead with hope, the reunification of families, and with insurmountable pride and healing. Expenses to educate communities are slim, making the initial business set-up relatively simple. The biggest cost would be the amount of time it would take, however by finding individuals to serve on the board that may already have previous education or lived experience and with over 45 million Americans identifying as having lost a loved one to overdose in the previous 5 years- I make the safe assumption that there are plenty of individuals who would find the work purposeful enough to volunteer their time toward. In fact, many of whom are likely to jump at the opportunity given their emotional connection to the mission because contributing to in essence a large group project would be far less demanding and require much less from each participant than creating and building a business with practically no revenue to be able to gain and maintain traction, stability, and keep up with the innovative planning that is essential to the success of preventing, reducing, and eventually ending overdose fatalities. Why? Because no one else has to die, so what's stopping you?! Be the change, and help fight to end overdose.