My name is Devin Palmer, I attend Xavier University of Louisiana, and I am a sophomore. My main motivation in everything I do is my family. My mom had me the same year that she graduated from the University of Alabama, and she has done a remarkable job of caring for me going forth. As a kid, I never experienced the stress of finding means to live in comfort, scrounging for something to eat, or the basic necessities that any person needs such as genuine love and care; and that is because my mother always unflinchingly shouldered that boulder. She worked countless hours in the day at several jobs, as well as countless hours at night as a freelance graphic designer throughout my childhood, always providing for me, and even when she’d fall short, she would always make sure that I’d be okay in the end, and that the illusion of comfort was never broken. I do not know a woman who is stronger and more perseverant than her. As I’ve grown older, the maturity gained with age has revealed the sacrifices that were made for me and the foundation that was built to put me on the path that I am on today. That path has turned into a zealous passion for everything animal-related. I’ve always had immense interest in all of the animals that I could see as a kid, from the different species of birds and squirrels I could see at home, to the exotic and seemingly mystical animals I could see at my local zoo. As a kid, I was always fascinated by the world around me, and while other kids my age would be watching Disney Channel, I would spend my free time sitting in front of the T.V. watching Animal Planet or reading a book about the ocean. My passion was further invigorated once I began volunteering at my local Humane Society where I was able to see firsthand the duties and responsibilities animal caretakers have, as well as how much they enjoy doing it. The experience solidified my plans for the future and further fueled my passion to become a caretaker and a respite for all animals. When it comes to pursuing this passion of mine, I owe everything that I’ve accomplished, and the possibility of me accomplishing my future goals to my mother. Above anything else, I want to make things easier for her. Although I could never fully accomplish the impossible task of paying her back for all of the good she has done in my life, I continue to strive to chip away at the debt that I owe her. By applying myself, digging deep when the going gets tough, and sticking to what I believe. I will always continue to do whatever is necessary to achieve my goals because that is exactly what my mother did for me.

Growing up baseball was always a relevant topic in my household. I grew up with my grandfather, grandmother, and mother. My grandfather was the person who got me most into the sport. He often bought me baseball-related things such as plastic bats, baseball cards, my first glove, and my first real bat. By the time I was three, I was already excited to storm the tee-ball field. My grandfather and I would sit and watch Major League games, and he would tell me all about what everything meant. He would tell me about the rules, what the different statistics meant, and how his favorite team (Atlanta Braves) seemingly fails to make the World Series every season. Growing up in Birmingham, AL also meant that baseball was a good bit of everyone’s life, and I think that could be generally said for all of the South. We don’t have a Major League team, but we do have a Minor League AAA team, the Birmingham Barons. My grandfather took me to many of their games as a kid. Birmingham was also home to a team of the lesser-known historical Negroe Southern League where African-Americans played baseball because they weren’t allowed to play in the Major Leagues due to segregation during the Jim Crow era. My grandfather grew up playing baseball himself. As expected of the time period, race relations and baseball didn’t only clash in the Negro League, but in local leagues as well. As I grew older, my grandfather felt more comfortable with telling me about his stories during the Jim Crow era. One of the stories that have been engrained in my mind is when he spoke of his attempt to try out for his high school baseball team. He described how he was treated unfairly at the tryout, and on his walk home, he was chased by students spewing racist rhetoric. I think that this story was so significant because, at the time, I attended the same school he did as a high schooler. But those events did not falter his love for the sport, he continued to play, and he even played in a local men’s softball league until about a decade after I was born. I remember going to his games, watching him play, and looking in awe at how far he and his teammates would hit the ball. One of the fondest memories that I have of me and grandfather is when I asked him after one of his games, “why don’t the players run around the bases after they hit a home run?” He jokingly told me, “we’re too old to be running around the bases.” I think that my love for baseball is deeply rooted in my relationship with my grandfather. He taught me everything that I know, and he still makes it to every game of mine that he can. Without those trips to the batting cages and those days when we would play catch in the front yard until the streetlights came on, I would not be the baseball player I am today.