In her book of speeches and essays, “Freedom is a Constant Struggle,“ Angela Davis illustrates that to create an American society that is conducive to freedom, we must first reimagine our concepts of crime, punishment, and safety. As a Fairhaven student in the Law, Diversity, and Justice program, I have begun to explore these facets of humanity through the lens of America’s social, political, and legal policies. In my life, I have witnessed how our current social systems encourage violence while simultaneously preventing targeted populations from receiving the proper support that they need. When my father was arrested for assault, the institutional response was vague and wholly ineffective. A few nights in prison did nothing to address the mental health concerns, substance abuse issues, physical ailments, and poverty that left him and many others like him without options. This leads me to key questions in the future of my education. What is violence? What is crime? What is the solution to crime? If violence is an expression—in my father’s case, a cry for help—then how do we focus on the expression before it becomes violence? How do we respond to this cry for help? How does the inherent violence of government institutions—the military, for example—beget interpersonal violence? How does necessity perpetuate these institutions? How can a jail cell or prison possibly help the men behind the violence—the men with whom I was raised? Most importantly, how has the prison industrial complex embedded itself into our criminal justice system so wholly, and what can we do to abolish it? My concentration at Western Washington University intends to combine my interest in law, prison abolition, and society as a means to reform the institutional responses to crime while attempting to answer these questions. I am beginning this exploration with an interest in black feminist theory, abolition, economics, sociology, and political science. At the core of my concentration is the belief that changes in legislation and enforcement are critical for creating a safer, more just society. While I am looking at very large concepts and theories, I am eager to learn immediate and direct actions that can be taken in the legal field to address the root causes of crime: poverty, racism, and capitalism. To initiate this study, my advisor, Dr. Akinrinade, emphasized that I first must gain a whole understanding of our legal system as well as its history. Supplementally, I will continue to learn about American history and culture so that I can further understand the implications of the prison industry on the people. Overall, my next two years of education will be dedicated to understanding the interdisciplinary connections that have created the systems of law and justice in the United States as we know them. Following my graduation from Western, I am determined to use this knowledge to do my part in rebuilding a system that emphasizes prevention through social, political, economic, and legal advocacy rather than punishment. To me, this looks like going to graduate school and earning a Juris Doctorate, passing the bar exam, and working as an attorney. Ideally, with the tools and experience from being a practicing attorney, I will be able to expand my career to support and consult with organizations that fight for the abolition of the prison industrial complex on a larger scale. Some of the organizations that exemplify this work are the Critical Resistance Organization, All of Us or None, and Amnesty International. In the long term, I believe that becoming a judge could be an effective way to ensure that legislation prevents overcriminalization and other forms of legal oppression.

When I was five years old, my father took me to the San Jose Peace Center Bazaar, where I sold my first piece of art. In a small 8x10 frame sat my drawing, a white dove laying on her side. I am proud to say that my parents encouraged all of my artistic endeavors, including camps, classes, and publications, from the minute I could pick up a pencil. My most prosperous and recent project began in March of 2020, during the start of the pandemic, and has continued for three years. What began as an interest in making beaded necklaces has evolved into a small business, an artistic outlet, a way to make friends, and a way to support myself financially. For two years, as I perfected my skills in making jewelry, my business was entirely online. On the platform Depop, I created the shop Dove's Jewelry Shop, where I have sold earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, keychains, and more. Slowly but surely, my techniques and materials got better, and I made fairly consistent sales to other students, primarily young women. However, once I arrived at my university, Western Washington University, where I am a pre-law student, I found an incipient market. The city where my school resides, Bellingham, is full of artistic entrepreneurs who host countless artists, makers, and art markets. In the fall of 2022, I opened my first stand at a farmer's market, despite the dark clouds in the sky and my trepidation. Since then, I have sold in about seven other markets, some slow and some tiring but lucrative. My small business, Dove's Jewelry Shop, has evolved so much more than I could have ever imagined. Not only do I have over 200 positive reviews online and 400 sales on Depop, but I have additionally sold hundreds of items to lovely people who I get to see face-to-face! Entrepreneurialism excites me as a way to gain independence and learn skills, but more importantly, it has connected me with my community. I have made many friends who, like me, are part-time artists and part-time students. Recently, I befriended a young woman who hand paints clothing, and we have done joint sales and spent days building stock together. This path has grown my self-esteem extraordinarily. I now have confidence that I can generate money from the art that I design and create. Given broken, old, dirty, or unused jewelry, I can make wearable art, and I now have the skills to sell it. I have learned how to better communicate with customers, how to advertise my products, and how to share my skills.While I try to be wary of monetizing my hobbies, I have learned that selling something does not cheapen its personal significance. If anything, being able to support myself while also sharing with others has been monumental. I also feel grateful that I am part of a small group of artisans that value individual work over mass production and art that is intended to be temporary and repurchased. I plan to continue investing my time, energy, and love into my small business and entrepreneurial dreams throughout graduate school and my career. I am thankful for everyone who has supported my business, and I have pride that my work has supported me financially through college. I hope I can continue to pay it forward by connecting with each community of which I am a part.

While both of my parents received higher education, they were much older at the time of my applications. The university system in the US has changed drastically since they attended, and they trusted me to handle all things related to college. While I appreciated the discretion, it bordered on neglect. My older sister Maya, whom I have looked up to my whole life, filled the parental role during this critical time for me. Maya bought me materials to improve my SAT score, taught me about majors, and most importantly, she took me on college tours across three states. Maya and I traveled to Bellingham, Washington, in February, before COVID arrived in the United States, to see my current school, Western Washington University. Walking around campus with someone invested in my future helped me recognize that it was the right place for me. Being out of state allowed me to have distance from my unsafe home life, and the Honors program offered me a small community in which I could build my life. I am unbelievably grateful for Maya's dedication to making sensible and brave decisions, something I struggled with. Because of her dedication and my subsequent exploration, I have landed in my current field of interest: law, diversity, and justice. My first class in this concentration was Introduction to the United States Legal System, where I learned with a small cohort of prelaw students how to read and understand cases, create case briefs, and analyze some of the legal changes that have occurred in the US, specifically reproductive rights. At the end of the class, all of the students participated in a mock trial. This was the first I had ever experienced, and to say I was nervous would be an understatement. I was assigned the role of the attorney in a civil case regarding liability. We had our friends come in to participate as jurors, and a local attorney acted as a judge. My performance had room for improvement, but the experience was enriching. I found myself incredibly passionate about our hypothetical debate, and I knew that I would do as much research or analysis as I needed to make my case. This also solidified my long-term career goals. I have in the past had a tendency to get bored when I was not challenged by the law, and being an attorney is a career that would never stop pushing me to be the best, most efficient version of myself. I recognize the unideal aspects of the career, but nonetheless, I am determined to graduate with my BA and attend a law school in my home state of California. Following that, I intend to concentrate on civil rights law in order to potentially work on police reform. I am grateful for everyone who helped me get to this place, especially my big sister. I truly could not have done it without her.

My first entrepreneurial experience occurred when I was five years old. My father, who always believed in my artistic endeavors, framed one of my drawings: a dove lying in her nest. At the San Jose Peace Center bazaar, a fellow peace activist purchased my drawing for $50. As a five-year-old, any amount of money was exciting, but I will always remember the pride my father had in me that day. As time continued, I grew a bit shy, and my energy became oriented toward my education rather than my art. However, just like everyone else in the world, 2020 forced me to slow down. The pandemic hit, and to fill the space of loneliness and sadness, I went to the craft store and purchased some beads. As I began to make wire-wrapped rings and beaded necklaces, I found my body relaxing. I cannot count how many hours I sat in bed after a draining day of Zoom classes, turned on music, and just made jewelry. After about two weeks of this new hobby, I came to an unfortunate realization: I could not wear all of this jewelry, and I was producing far too much. Too scared to abandon my new love, I decided to try and sell my items. In April 2020, I listed my first piece of jewelry on Depop: a $6 wire-wrapped stone ring. Since that moment, I have sold roughly 400 items, including necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets, and keychains. I have learned so much about this craft and the culture of salesmanship around it. For example, it has taken me months to find the best materials at the most appropriate price. Early in my business, I was using a wire that was not strong enough for the beads, and I would often get messages from buyers saying that their items broke in the mail. Not only did this devastate me as an artist, but it was a significant loss of profit. Over and over, I have had to change and improvise to make my business succeed. Not only have I primarily sold on Depop, but I have also done my own deliveries, advertised on Instagram and TikTok, and worked at a farmer’s market. Last October, I was able to set up at the Bellingham Farmer’s Market. After gathering intel, I learned that the free spaces of the farmer's market were competitive grounds. Luckily, my boyfriend and I woke up at six in the morning, put our table in the best spot, and drank coffee until the sun came up. While I am normally very shy, sitting behind all of my work gave me a huge surge of confidence, and I greeted everyone who passed. In three hours, I sold 15 pieces and made a $280 profit. Again, the money was great to have for school expenses, but the most rewarding part was the pride on the faces of my boyfriend, Zach, and my roommates, McKenzie, Lizzie, and Amara. Owning a small business, even a tiny one, is hard work. It requires resilience, which I am proud to have, and bravery, which I am working on gaining. I am unbelievably proud of myself for continuing my jewelry shop, Dove’s Jewelry Shop, from California to Washington and from my home to the dorm room. My father still tells everyone he knows about my art and is always ready to advertise my business, even to my embarrassment. I am so thankful for all the help and support I have received, and I am determined to keep growing my business no matter where life and my career take me.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, were what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I believe that legislation and law are the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and supporting communities.    Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official pre-law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already allowed me to incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the community of the college (within the university) that provides this major. I have found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new community with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about life experiences and histories that are vastly different from mine.    All of this contributes to my post-graduation dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have come to believe this year that the prison system and imperialism are two of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. With these new understandings, I hope to use a career in law to help fix our broken justice system and work to prevent authoritarianism in the United States. Within this framework, I also want to learn how all systems of oppression work together to subjugate communities so that I can continue my work to support them. This could look like decriminalization, political aid, public defense, or being a legal consultant.   As I continue my second year of university, I will be involved in the school's Social Justice and Equity Committee, take my first criminal procedure class, and continue both my honors and Spanish minor. I look forward to learning more about myself and my peers so that I can be prepared for law school and my potential career. Until then, I am thankful for all of the opportunities that I have been given, including this application.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, were what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I believe that legislation and law are the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and supporting communities.    Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official pre-law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already allowed me to incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the community of the college (within the university) that provides this major. I have found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new community with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about life experiences and histories that are vastly different from mine.    All of this contributes to my post-graduation dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have come to believe this year that the prison system and imperialism are two of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. With these new understandings, I hope to use a career in law to help fix our broken justice system and work to prevent authoritarianism in the United States. Within this framework, I also want to learn how all systems of oppression work together to subjugate communities so that I can continue my work to support them. This could look like decriminalization, political aid, public defense, or being a legal consultant.   As I continue my second year of university, I will be involved in the school's Social Justice and Equity Committee, take my first criminal procedure class, and continue both my honors and Spanish minor. I look forward to learning more about myself and my peers so that I can be prepared for law school and my potential career. Until then, I am thankful for all of the opportunities that I have been given, including this application.

My high school experience is one that, in hindsight, I cannot believe I survived. By eighth grade, my entire family had been fractured. My eldest sister, Maya, was away in college, and my other sister, Rosalie, was living as a high school dropout in an abusive relationship. After the death of my maternal grandmother, my mother, father, and I moved to Ithaca, New York, for a fresh start. My father, whom I did not understand then, left us and returned to California two months after the move, favoring the more lenient marijuana laws over parenting his child. My mother, in her most fragile state, was overcome with depression and became suicidal. Despite being a new kid at school, I excelled academically, made friends who I speak to to this day, and learned to advocate for my own needs. One year later, my mother and I returned to California, much to my dismay. Rosalie moved in with us, and her drug addiction peaked. My anxiety and depression manifested in constant dissociation and anger, but nonetheless, I received all As in school while playing for the volleyball team and forming connections with my teachers. Rosalie, once my best friend, became my responsibility. When she went into a daylong drug-induced sleep, I would wake her and force her to eat and shower. As a naive high schooler who still looked up to her big sister, I believed Rosalie each time she told me she would get sober. We would sit on her bed and make a list of all the things she could do to "get her life together." Every time, without fail, I came home the following day to find my bedroom ransacked and my money stolen to pay for stolen pills. If you had asked fifteen-year-old Dove what she would like to do with her life, she would have given you a blank stare. Although I have always been driven and competitive, so much of my time was spent on survival that I could not truly consider a career or anything outside of my broken home. After years of therapy, I understood that I could be okay and that one of my surest ways out of my home was college. I can say now, two years later, that going to university saved my life. The distance from my family allowed my mental health to stabilize, and I was no longer subjected to abuse every day. I have since been able to appreciate the great aspects of my family while also recognizing all of the work I've done to create a good life for myself. My mental illness will always be there, and my anxiety and depression will never stop being a part of me, but I will continue to grow despite it. With the space and time I made for myself, I have been able to pursue my career aspirations. Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official pre-law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already helped me incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the community of the college (within the university) that provides this major. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new community. With the help of my professors, I will discover what areas of law I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about adversity that is different from mine.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, were what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I still believe that legislation and politics are the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and supporting communities.    Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official pre-law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already helped me incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the community of the college (within the university) that provides this major. I have found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new community with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law and politics I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about life experiences and histories that are vastly different from mine.    All of this contributes to my post-undergrad dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have come to believe this year that the prison systems and modern imperialism are some of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. Above all, I want to learn how all systems of oppression work together to subjugate communities so that I can continue my work to support them. I take pride in my country and my experiences, which is why I want to dedicate my education and career to fixing the our legal system, engaging with impovrished communities, and simultaneously attempting to become a more fulfilled person.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, were what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I still believe that legislation and politics are the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and supporting communities.    Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official pre-law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already helped me incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the community of the college (within the university) that provides this major. I have found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new community with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law and politics I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about life experiences and histories that are vastly different from mine.    All of this contributes to my post-undergrad dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have also come to believe this year that the prison systems and modern imperialism are some of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. Above all, I want to learn how all systems of oppression work together to subjugate communities so that I can continue my work to support them. I take pride in my country and my experiences, which is why I want to dedicate my education and career to fixing the our justice system, engaging with neglected communities, and simultaneously attempting to become a more fulfilled person.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, was what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I still believe that legislation and politics are the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and solving problems. Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official Pre-Law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already helped me incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the college within the university that provides this major. I found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new environment with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law and politics I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn about life experiences and histories that are vastly different from mine. All of this contributes to my post-undergrad dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have also come to believe this year that the prison systems and modern imperialism are some of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. Above all, earning about American history as well as political science has encouraged me to find career aspirations that are true to my beliefs. I take pride in my country and my experiences, which is why I want to dedicate my education and career to fixing the broken justice system, helping those who are neglected, and simultaneously becoming a more fulfilled person.

When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. I believe that this, and my distaste for inefficiency, was what brought me to the law. My mother always told me that lawyers were liars and that law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I still believe that legislation is the most efficient way to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and solving problems.    Because my school, Western Washington University, has no official Pre-Law program, the Law, Diversity, and Justice concentration has already helped me incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. Not only do I love my first LDJ course, "Introduction to the US Legal System," but I also revere Fairhaven, the college within the university that provides this major. I found the faculty to be extremely diverse, and the students have had experiences I yearn to learn about. For example, this month I have met fellow students who are also business owners, parents, and immigrants. I feel as though all of my goals, both internal and external, will be met in this new environment with my new goals. With the help of my new professors, I will discover what areas of law I find most compelling, and through my classmates, I will learn more about life experiences that are vastly different from mine.    All of this contributes to my post-undergrad dreams, as after graduating from Western Washington, I aspire to attend law school, where I can begin my work in civil rights law and prison abolition. I have also come to believe this year that the prison systems and modern imperialism are some of the most direct instruments of fascism. If imprisoned citizens do not have autonomy or a say in their representation, then power can be maintained solely through criminalization. If countries, whose suppression we rely on for resources and authority, have autonomy and a say in their representation, then our power is at risk. I take pride in my country and my experiences, which is why I want to dedicate my education and career to fixing the broken justice system, helping those who are neglected, and simultaneously becoming a more fulfilled person.

Over the pandemic, I have learned more and more about the devastating impacts the daily life of developed countries has on the environment. From melting ice caps, acid rain, dying coral reefs, wildfires, to tropical storms, the destruction of our earth at the hands of climate change is everywhere. I believe that it is the job of people to do everything we can to stop it. One action that I, and many other young people, have taken is signing and spreading information and petitions on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly, with our demands and requests. I believe that this is an effective way to demonstrate the beliefs of the people to the large corporations and the politicians who are contributing to, if not causing climate change. The younger generations are learning about the urgency of change that is needed to keep the earth safe for ourselves, the wildlife, and the future of humanity. While it can feel challenging to face such a huge problem as a teenager, I find it uplifting how many of us are using the technology in our hands to try to make a change. In addition, I do my best to eliminate food waste which saves energy that would be spent disposing of it and prevents excess methane production. In my home, we compost food that is going bad rather than throwing it in the garbage. When we have unwanted food that is still in good condition, we give it to our friends and neighbors. Now that I am in university, we have a compost bin in our dorm, and I do not have to worry about my extra food rotting in the garbage; instead, it becomes fertilizer for our school farm. Food waste, however, is not the only aspect of food that can be harmful to our environment. Studies show that eating plant-based can cut carbon emissions in half. While my principal cause for eating mainly plant-based is for my health, the cut in my carbon emissions is a huge benefit. With meat and dairy specifically, I feel as though I am no longer contributing to an industry that is incredibly unethical and cruel. Another effort in which I take much pride is beach clean-ups. Growing up on the West Coast, I am very aware of the high amount of trash and pollution on our beaches and in our oceans. While I was in High School, my father and I would attend weekly beach clean-ups hosted by local coalitions. We would collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches around our area. The garbage was then properly recycled, preventing further pollution and using fewer resources during disposal. This was a fun and cooperative way to act locally while living on the coast. We would see the beautiful wildlife every morning, get good exercise, and help the planet for free. Overall, I am still learning how to properly use my time and energy to reduce carbon emissions, be less wasteful, and protect the environment that protects me. I believe that it is my duty as a consumer to be conscious of my decisions but also encourage corporations and politicians to do the same. I plan to continue to act locally, no matter where I am, to make my words into actions.

Throughout the pandemic, I've learned more and more about the devastating effects that people's daily lives in developed countries have on the environment. From melting ice caps, acid rain, dying coral reefs, wildfires, and tropical storms, the destruction of our earth at the hands of climate change is everywhere. I believe that it is the job of people to do everything we can to stop it. One action that I, and many other young people, have taken is signing and spreading information and petitions on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly with our demands and requests. I believe that this is an effective way to demonstrate the beliefs of the people to the large corporations and the politicians who are contributing to, if not causing, climate change. The younger generations are learning about the urgency of change that is needed to keep the earth safe for ourselves, the wildlife, and the future of humanity. While it can feel challenging to face such a huge problem as a teenager, I find it uplifting how many of us are using the technology in our hands to try to make a change. In addition, I do my best to eliminate food waste, which saves energy that would be spent disposing of it and prevents excess methane production. In my home, we compost food that is going bad rather than throwing it in the garbage. When we have unwanted food that is still in good condition, we give it to our friends and neighbors. Now that I am in university, we have a compost bin in our dorm, and I do not have to worry about my extra food rotting in the garbage; instead, it becomes fertilizer for our school farm. Food waste, however, is not the only aspect of food that can be harmful to our environment. Studies show that eating a plant-based diet can cut carbon emissions in half. While my principal reason for eating mainly plant-based is for my health, the cut in my carbon emissions is a huge benefit. With meat and dairy specifically, I feel as though I am no longer contributing to an industry that is incredibly unethical and cruel. Beach clean-ups are another effort in which I take great pride. Growing up on the West Coast, I am very aware of the high amount of trash and pollution on our beaches and in our oceans. While I was in high school, my father and I would attend weekly beach clean-ups hosted by local coalitions. We would collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches in our area. The garbage was then properly recycled, preventing further pollution and using fewer resources during disposal. This was a fun and cooperative way to act locally while living on the coast. We would see the beautiful wildlife every morning, get good exercise, and help the planet for free. Overall, I am still learning how to properly use my time and energy to reduce carbon emissions, be less wasteful, and protect the environment that protects me. I believe that it is my duty as a consumer to be conscious of my decisions and to also encourage corporations and politicians to do the same. I plan to continue to act locally, no matter where I am, to turn my words into actions.

My high school experience is one that, in hindsight, I cannot believe I survived. By eighth grade, my entire family had been fractured. My eldest sister, Maya, was away in college, and my other sister, Rosalie, was living as a high school dropout in an abusive relationship. After the death of my maternal grandmother, my mother, father, and I moved to Ithaca, New York, for a fresh start. My father, whom I did not understand then, left us and returned to California two months after the move, favoring the more lenient marijuana laws over parenting his child. My mother, in her most fragile state, was overcome with depression and became suicidal. Despite being a new kid at school, I excelled academically, made friends who I speak to to this day, and learned to advocate for my own needs. One year later, my mother and I returned to California, much to my dismay. Rosalie moved in with us, and her drug addiction peaked. My anxiety and depression manifested in constant dissociation and anger, but nonetheless, I received all As in school while playing for the volleyball team and forming connections with my teachers. Rosalie, once my best friend, became my responsibility. When she went into a daylong drug-induced sleep, I would wake her and force her to eat and shower. As a naive high schooler who still looked up to her big sister, I believed Rosalie each time she told me she would get sober. We would sit on her bed and make a list of all the things she could do to "get her life together." Every time, without fail, I came home the following day to find my bedroom ransacked and my money stolen to pay for stolen pills. If you had asked fifteen-year-old Dove what she would like to do with her life, she would have given you a blank stare. Although I have always been driven and competitive, so much of my time was spent on survival that I could not truly consider a career or anything outside of my broken home. After years of therapy, I understood that I could be okay and that one of my surest ways out of my home was college. I can say now, two years later, that going to university saved my life. The distance from my family allowed my mental health to stabilize, and I was no longer subjected to abuse every day. I have since been able to appreciate the great aspects of my family while also recognizing all of the work I've done to create a good life for myself. My mental illness will always be there, and my anxiety and depression will never stop being a part of me, but I will continue to grow despite it.

A song that has an important meaning to me as well as being one of my favorites is "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?" sung by the Kingston Trio. This folk song tells an anti-war allegory that is frequently used in reference to the Vietnam War, but it is applicable to nearly any militarized action that treats citizens' lives as expendable. It describes flowers that are grown, picked by young women, given to young men who become husbands, then soldiers, and then placed on gravestones where flowers will grow again. The line "When will they ever learn?" repeats after every verse to establish how humanity neglects losses for the sake of repeating a cycle. The song is beautiful and heartbreaking. The tune, however, will lull you away from the true meaning if you're not careful. Personally, I grew up in a pacifist household. In fact, my name is a representation of my parents' hope for peace. This song reminds me of the lessons my parents instilled in me at a young age: that every person's life matters, and war is not the way to achieve progress. I hope that everyone who listens understands the implications and internalizes their goals of peace.

The essential times that I have had to write about myself and my experiences have been for applications to colleges, scholarships, or any other institution to which I have to sell myself. However, this means that everything I have written about myself has been shaped in a digestible and inspiring way, even if it is not a true reflection of reality. In my experience, the underlying goal of any autobiographical writing is to prove that you are capable of change. The covert assumption is that the biggest challenges of your life have already met a conclusion with a happy ending. Yes, I have overcome obstacles, but to have to prove over and over that I am deserving by quantifying my experiences in terms of failures and successes rather than lifelong commitments is exhausting. That being said, all of my experiences with writing have strengthened my skills, which I will use for the rest of my undergraduate, graduate, and career experiences. When I was a child, my father never ceased to humor my countless questions, and as a teenager, he listened as I passionately resounded every hypothetical argument that I could come up with. My parents, never offering rules or boundaries, encouraged me to challenge authority; their neglect, however, made me crave it. This, along with my dislike of inefficiency, I believe led me to the legal profession.My mother, a manic hummingbird of a woman, always told me that lawyers were liars and law school was boring. Despite this generalization, I still believe that law and legislation are the most efficient ways to challenge authority for the sake of creating change and solving problems. A critical aspect of law and policy is, of course, writing. Luckily, this is a passion of mine and also a skill. Throughout my education, the ability to write an essay has been relentingly drilled into my brain. In my AP Language class in high school, we had to write a complete rhetorical analysis essay in 20 minutes every class, three times a week. In my freshman-year Honors classes at Western Washington University, we wrote papers every week about the literature we were reading, which further ingrained my ability to turn any discussion into an argumentative essay. Furthermore, my mother is a teacher and a stickler for grammar, so I grew up with constant corrections. She enjoys telling the story of how I publicly corrected my elementary school principal on his misuse of "good" and "well." To perfect the skill of grammar and prove that I am still as sharp as I was at 9 years old, I took a journalism class last year that focused on the mechanics of grammar. Above all, while I have my own complicated relationship with personal essays, I look forward to writing for the rest of my life. In my first class of my Law, Diversity, and Justice major, I have already learned about the writing intensity of law. For example, I have written countless case briefs and legal memos. I know I will use my skills to not only continually challenge oppressive institutions but also to communicate all if the things that I cannot say outloud.

Try everything! My goal for my second year of college is to take every opportunity that is offered to me. Despite living on campus as a freshman, I struggled with isolation. However, as I have gotten braver, I have realized that colleges and other students truly do want to make your life better. There are countless free or discounted adventures you can go on, on campus or off campus, so long as you say yes. For example, my boyfriend and I are going on a school run kayaking excursion on the bay! Make the most out of what you have.

While the community that I was raised in was outwardly liberal, being from the California Bay Area is like coming from a bubble of privilege. There was a level of recognition of this at my school, but my time in college has truly enhanced my understanding of the diverse economic backgrounds that people come from and the struggles that they face. All of this leads me to something I have always wanted but was too afraid to pursue: Law, Diversity, and Justice. When I was informed about a program that would provide a concentration in Law, Diversity, and Justice rather than an arbitrary major and a minor I care about more, I was ecstatic. I hope to incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. I plan to complete an Honors minor in Interdisciplinary Studies while also pursuing a concentration that does not confine me to a single topic. My goals are flexible and ever-changing, but I would feel the most encouraged if I were able to graduate from Western with a Law Diversity, and Justice concentration and then attend law school in my home state. With a law degree, I hope to do public defense until I have enough experience to be a consultant for non-profit organizations that serve the public. As I take this journey, I look forward to learning more about the vast ways in which I can use my knowledge to help not only people but the earth. I am thankful for the opportunities that I have been given, and I plan to work tirelessly to create even more for myself, my colleagues, and my community.

While I would love to write an essay about my talents, I feel it would be much more gratifying to just show you! Below is a link to my website portfolio that features my art and jewelry. I love to create, and I am thankful for anyone who takes the time to look at a collection of my favorite pieces. Thank you. https://dovelnordblom.wixsite.com/website

While the community that I was raised in was outwardly liberal, being from the California Bay Area is like coming from a bubble of privilege. There was a level of recognition of this at my school, but my time in college has truly enhanced my understanding of the diverse economic backgrounds that people come from and the struggles that they face. All of this leads me to something I have always wanted but was too afraid to pursue: Law, Diversity, and Justice. When I was informed about a program that would provide a concentration in Law, Diversity, and Justice rather than an arbitrary major and a minor I care about more, I was ecstatic. I hope to incorporate my passions and ideals of equity, inclusion, and leadership into my education and long-term goals. I plan to complete an Honors minor in Interdisciplinary Studies while also pursuing a concentration that does not confine me to a single topic. My goals are flexible and ever-changing, but I would feel the most encouraged if I were able to graduate from my school, Western Washington University, with a Law Diversity, and Justice concentration and then attend law school in my home state. With a law degree, I hope to do public defense until I have enough experience to be a consultant for non-profit organizations that serve the public. As I take this journey, I look forward to learning more about the vast ways in which I can use my knowledge to help not only people but the earth. I am thankful for the opportunities that I have been given, and I plan to work tirelessly to create even more for myself, my colleagues, and my community.

I made this acrylic painting during a time of depression as an exercise in illustrating happier subjects. The lemur, a wonderful little primate native to Madagascar, is known for its funny poses and facial expressions. I once held a lemur at a benefit for our local zoo, and it remains one of my happiest moments. I hope Leo, the lemur in this painting, brings everyone as much joy as he brings me. Furthermore, I would love it if this happiness encouraged donations or work in the protection of these wonderful animals and their habitat.

 By my freshman year of high school, I had moved across the country multiple times, which led to isolation from both friends and family. My mother's denial and my sister's drug abuse reached their apex at home, and I found myself caring for a self-destructive 19-year-old whom I loved too much to abandon. Despite my mental health reaching its lowest point, I made the effort to become involved in school sports and engage in my classes. While I appeared to be functioning from the outside, I spent that year in a haze, running on autopilot, unable to truly connect with another person. I was sick and in need of help.    That summer, however, I began my recovery. With the help of a new therapist, I became alive again. Over the next few years, I learned healthier ways to handle the stress of unstable environments, and I stopped neglecting my own needs. But as I worked on changing my internal complexities and conflicting ideologies, I recognized the high expectations I had once had for myself and how I had failed them. More than that, I relearned how to have hope for myself and my future.    This realization came along in a larger wave of recovery. I am no longer in a state of fight or flight but in the aftermath of survival. I have decided that my coming of age will not be defined by my endurance but by my forgiveness. I forgave myself for all the things I did not become, and now is my chance to focus on all the things that I can.   I would not have been able to overcome this adversity without the help of my therapist and mentor. She constantly encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone and never stopped telling me that I would succeed. I made it to my university, where I have used my new skills to make friends become involved, and overall gain patience with myself and my education. I am determined to continue prioritizing my mental health, seeking help if I need it, and telling others my story so that professional support does not seem so daunting. Thank you for listening to my story.

Over quarantine, I have learned more and more about the devastating impacts the daily life of developed countries has on the environment and on our own communities. From melting ice caps, acid rain, dying coral reefs, wildfires, to tropical storms, the destruction of our earth at the hands of climate change is everywhere. I believe that it is the job of people to do everything we can to stop it. One action that I, and many other young people, have taken is signing and spreading information and petitions on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly, with our demands and requests. I believe that this is an effective way to demonstrate the beliefs of the people to the large corporations and the politicians who are contributing to, if not causing climate change. The younger generations are learning about the urgency of change that is needed to keep earth safe for ourselves, wildlife, and the future of humanity. While it can feel challenging to face such a huge problem as a teenager, I find it uplifting how many of us are using the technology in our hands to try to make a change. In addition, I do my best to eliminate food waste which saves energy that would be spent disposing of it and prevents excess methane production. In my home, we compost food that is going bad rather than throwing it in the garbage. When we have unwanted food that is still in good condition, we give it to our friends and neighbors. Now that I am in university, we have a compost bin in our dorm, and I do not have to worry about my extra food rotting in the garbage; instead, it becomes fertilizer for our school farm. Food waste, however, is not the only aspect of food that can be harmful to our environment. Studies show that eating plant-based can cut carbon emissions in half. While my principal cause for eating mainly plant-based is for my health, the cut in my carbon emissions is a huge benefit. With meat and dairy specifically, I feel as though I am no longer contributing to an industry that is incredibly unethical and cruel. Another effort in which I take much pride is beach clean-ups. Growing up on the West Coast, I am very aware of the high amount of trash and pollution on our beaches and in our oceans. To help fight this during High School, my father and I would go every Sunday to collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches. The garbage was then properly recycled which prevents pollution and uses fewer resources. I believe that this is a fun and cooperative way to act locally if you live on the coast. We are able to see the beautiful wildlife every morning, get good exercise, and help the planet for free! Overall, I am still learning how to properly use my time and energy to reduce carbon emissions, be less wasteful, and protect the environment that protects me. I believe that it is my duty as a consumer to be conscious of my decisions but also encourage corporations and politicians to do the same. I have much to learn about the processes, in addition to helping the people around me be as best to the earth as they can. I plan to continue to act locally wherever I live to make these wishes true.

This acrylic painting that I completed in my art class was not only an exercise in texture but also in painting subject matter that is less serious and more colloquial. I believe that in the art world, there is a belief that you must be a "tortured genius" who only creates the most profound and often, devastating, pieces. Art should be an outlet for all types of creativity including joy. This lemur painting is inspired by a photograph of a real ring-tailed lemur sticking its little tongue out which not only brings me joy but hopefully does to everyone who sees it.

In the ninth grade, after a year of countless cross-country moves, I was suddenly thrust back into my old world as I moved back to my hometown. Suddenly, I became a caretaker of my older sister, whose mental illness and drug abuse were climaxing. I was put in a difficult position that required me to spend most days pulling her out of bed, spoon-feeding her food, and forcing her to drink water. After living with this immense responsibility and my own history of mental health struggles, I found myself having to prioritize survival over other aspects of my life. For a while, I hated myself for being what I considered underachieving. I would spend nights crying and punishing myself for not living up to my own expectations. My self-esteem had always relied on my ability to function despite the turmoil around me, but the PTSD of growing up too quickly and the pain of being surrounded by the mentally ill kept me average. My worth seemed as though it was solely powered by my ability to push, push, push myself until I broke. But that summer I began my recovery. With the help of a therapist and a newfound drive to get better, I learned healthier ways to handle the stress of unstable environments and stopped neglecting my own needs. Over the years, like all things, my therapy had setbacks, relapses in success, and moments of deep denial. But most importantly, I have had moments of clarity, like when I recognized that I must forgive myself for not reaching all the unbearably high expectations I had for myself because I was prioritizing survival.

Over quarantine, I have learned more and more about the devastating impacts the daily life of developed countries has on the environment. I believe that it is my duty to do what I can to help the world, especially by fighting climate change. One action that I have taken is signing and spreading information and petitions on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly, with our demands and requests. In addition, I do my best to eliminate food waste which saves energy that would be spent disposing of it and prevents excess methane production. At home and in my dorm, we have a compost bin and I do not have to worry about my extra food rotting in the garbage; instead, it becomes fertilizer for our school farm. To continue, studies show that eating plant-based can cut carbon emissions in half. While my principal cause for eating mainly plant-based is for my health, the cut in my carbon emissions is a huge benefit. With meat and dairy specifically, I feel as though I am no longer contributing to an industry that is incredibly unethical and cruel. Another positive effort in which I take much pride is in attending beach clean-ups. Growing up on the West Coast, I am very aware of the high amount of trash and pollution on our beaches and in our oceans. While I was in High School, my father and I would attend weekly beach clean-ups hosted by local coalitions. We would collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches around our area. The garbage was then properly recycled, preventing further pollution and using fewer resources during disposal. There are unlimited ways to have a positive impact on the world, but these are some of my most simple favorites.

Like many young women my age, I have struggled with self-acceptance and self-image issues. No matter how many photos of myself I take, mirrors I look at, or compliments I receive, I will always fear that what I look like in reality does not match what I believe. To help fight this, I painted a self-portrait in my favorite medium, acrylic paint. It began as simply an exercise, but I soon found myself enjoying the journey to matching skin tone and the idea that I was looking directly at myself. When I observe this painting I feel a warmth because it is imperfect as I am, but it also feels genuine. I hope that I can continue to use my art to help my self-expression and confidence grow while inspiring others to do the same.

Over the pandemic, I have learned more and more about the devastating impacts the daily life of developed countries has on the environment. From melting ice caps, acid rain, dying coral reefs, wildfires, to tropical storms, the destruction of our earth at the hands of climate change is everywhere. I believe that it is the job of people to do everything we can to stop it. One action that I, and many other young people, have taken is signing and spreading information and petitions on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly, with our demands and requests. I believe that this is an effective way to demonstrate the beliefs of the people to the large corporations and the politicians who are contributing to, if not causing climate change. The younger generations are learning about the urgency of change that is needed to keep the earth safe for ourselves, the wildlife, and the future of humanity. While it can feel challenging to face such a huge problem as a teenager, I find it uplifting how many of us are using the technology in our hands to try to make a change. In addition, I do my best to eliminate food waste which saves energy that would be spent disposing of it and prevents excess methane production. In my home, we compost food that is going bad rather than throwing it in the garbage. When we have unwanted food that is still in good condition, we give it to our friends and neighbors. Now that I am in university, we have a compost bin in our dorm, and I do not have to worry about my extra food rotting in the garbage; instead, it becomes fertilizer for our school farm. Food waste, however, is not the only aspect of food that can be harmful to our environment. Studies show that eating plant-based can cut carbon emissions in half. While my principal cause for eating mainly plant-based is for my health, the cut in my carbon emissions is a huge benefit. With meat and dairy specifically, I feel as though I am no longer contributing to an industry that is incredibly unethical and cruel. Another effort in which I take much pride is beach clean-ups. Growing up on the West Coast, I am very aware of the high amount of trash and pollution on our beaches and in our oceans. While I was in High School, my father and I would attend weekly beach clean-ups hosted by local coalitions. We would collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches around our area. The garbage was then properly recycled, preventing further pollution and using fewer resources during disposal. This was a fun and cooperative way to act locally while living on the coast. We would see the beautiful wildlife every morning, get good exercise, and help the planet for free. Overall, I am still learning how to properly use my time and energy to reduce carbon emissions, be less wasteful, and protect the environment that protects me. I believe that it is my duty as a consumer to be conscious of my decisions but also encourage corporations and politicians to do the same. I plan to continue to act locally, no matter where I am, to make my words into actions.

Over quarantine, I have learned more about the negative impacts the daily life of people in developed countries has on the environment and climate. One action that I have taken is signing petitions and spreading information on social media. This also includes emailing our representatives directly, with our demands and requests. This is a good way to demonstrate our beliefs to the large corporations and the politicians who are contributing to climate change. Cutting down our usage of energy is another way of limiting carbon emissions. My family does this by never leaving lights on, only using the AC when necessary, doing infrequent loads of laundry, and walking and not driving. To continue, I do my best to eliminate food waste. In my home, we compost food that is going bad rather than throwing it in the garbage. When we have unwanted food that is still in good condition, we give it to our friends and neighbors. Also, studies show that eating plant-based can cut carbon emissions in half. While my family is not completely plant-based, we put in the effort to not eat red meat nor drink cow's milk as the production of each is not only cruel but also leads to immense carbon emissions. Another effort in which I take much pride is beach clean-ups. For about a year, my father and I would go every Sunday to collect and separate trash from lakes and beaches. The garbage was then properly recycled which prevents pollution and uses fewer resources. Overall, I am still learning how to use my time and energy into reducing my carbon emissions and protecting the environment. I believe that it is my duty as a consumer to be conscious of my decisions but also encourage corporations and politicians to do the same.

instagram @doveluciaaa What makes me proud to be a woman is the feeling of sisterhood with women from any racial, religious, social, or economic background. In addition, I believe that being a woman has given me a higher capacity for empathy and understanding of others. I am proud to be a woman because despite all of the societal and global discrimination, I am able to thrive.

While reducing my experience with mental illness and that of my family members, to only a few hundred words feels difficult, I have thought extensively about it. The unfortunate truth is that nearly every person in my family is experiencing a mental illness. In addition, living with others while struggling with mental illness has led to far more pain than it has, togetherness. My mother and sister struggle with borderline personality disorder which has at times engulfed their life and put others in danger. My sister fell to substance abuse and my mother became suicidal which worsened my own mental health and led to traumatic events and ptsd. My father and I both struggle with general anxiety disorder and depression. No matter how much we may love one another, our struggles often feed off of each other and at times cause us to enable the others’ poor actions. Despite all of the difficulties, I began therapy and learned how to not only regulate and validate my own emotions but also how to set boundaries with my family. Although there is no cure for our individual illnesses, addressing the issue has led to much more stability in my life; that is what I would like to help more people achieve. As a friend, I would like to encourage people of all ages to learn to set safe boundaries with their friends, families, and anyone they interact with. I believe that we owe it to ourselves to respect our emotions while giving ourselves and others the space to thrive, no matter what challenges or mental illnesses we are faced with.

Photo 1. My mother, Lark, with our two dogs Sunny and Luna on a walk during the winter. Photo 2. Our two local rescue Pitbulls, Pigeon (left) and Violet (right) on a summer walk with a beautiful sunset in the back. Photo 3. My 17th birthday celebration with Violet.

If one were to walk onto the island of Madagascar, they would likely see a little mammal laying on its back with its arms reaching towards the sun. This animal is the ring-tailed lemur, a silly primate that spends its day basking in the sun and looking for food. Unfortunately, they are the most endangered mammal in the world due to deforestation and poaching. For my painting, I illustrated a lemur with its tongue out to demonstrates a life that we need to conserve. Life comes in so many forms and we must protect and conserve those that we can, starting with the ringtailed lemur.

In February of 2019, I traveled out of the country for the first time, and without my parents. The trip was life-changing, educational, and a perfect escape from an abusive household. The boldest thing that I did during my time in Thailand was visiting a sanctuary for my favorite animal, the endangered Asian elephant. I was able to hand feed a baby elephant fruits and vegetables and I felt incredibly confident in myself after. At that moment I was reminded of my deep affection for animals and the boldness of life outside of my comfort zone.

There is a rotting inside of me. A festering that feels kin with emptiness. On my worst weeks it piles on like bricks; every missed opportunity lay heavy on my back. It's sinister voice murmurs all the unique ways in which I should punish myself for not living up to my potential, but in my best weeks, it is silent. On my best days, I smother it in forgiveness, light a match, and watch it burn. I think this is what my therapist calls coping. When I turned nine years old, I began my stumble into anxiety. At home, the room would spin, and at school, I relied on paper bags to keep me breathing. Nonetheless, I loved the world and everything that came with it. But when I turned eleven the security of my family started to crumble. As my eldest sister left for college, my parents had a swift separation, and my second oldest sister was placed in the foster care system, my anxiety became insurmountable. The pain from my home life turned to rage and I quit my sports and instruments and began to act out. As Middle School continued, I learned that I could no longer rely on the adults around me for safety. I trained myself how to cope with the trauma that I was enduring, and while I kept straight A's, various aspects of my old identity became increasingly difficult to maintain. I grew cynical and stopped positively considering my future. Furthermore, I watched my loved ones endure mental illness and suffer from substance abuse. As a result, I neglected my own health. Once a competitive, high achieving person, I became a shell of the girl that I was. By my freshman year of High School, I had relocated across the country multiple times which caused isolation from both my friends and family. When my mother's denial and my sister's drug abuse hit its climax, I shifted into the role of caretaker to a self-destructive 19-year-old whom I loved too much to abandon. Despite my mental health approaching its lowest point, I made the resolution to become involved with school sports and to engage in my classes. While from the outside, I appeared to be performing normally, I spent that year in a haze, running on autopilot, unable to form relationships with anyone around me; I was sick and in need of help. That subsequent summer I patiently began my recovery. With the support of a caring new therapist, I became a person again. Over the following years, I learned and developed healthier ways to handle the stress of unstable environments and I stopped neglecting my own needs. Thankfully, as I worked on changing my internal complexities and conflicting ideologies, I recognized the high expectations I once had for myself and how I had failed them. Moreover, I relearned how to have hope for my future. This realization came along in a more extensive wave of recovery. I am no longer in a state of fight or flight but in the aftermath of survival. The rotting inside of me still comes and goes but I will not blame myself for its ache. I have determined that my coming of age will not be defined by my endurance, but of my forgiveness. I forgave myself for all the things that I did not become and now is my opportunity to focus on all the things that I can.

There is a rotting inside of me. A festering that feels kin with emptiness. On my worst weeks it piles on like bricks; every missed opportunity lay heavy on my back. It's sinister voice murmurs all the unique ways in which I should punish myself for not living up to my potential, but in my best weeks, it is silent. On my best days, I smother it in forgiveness, light a match, and watch it burn. I think this is what my therapist calls coping. When I turned nine years old, I began my stumble into anxiety. At home, the room would spin, and at school, I relied on paper bags to keep me breathing. Nonetheless, I loved the world and everything that came with it. But when I turned eleven the security of my family started to crumble. As my eldest sister left for college, my parents had a swift separation, and my second oldest sister was placed in the foster care system, my anxiety became insurmountable. The pain from my home life turned to rage and I quit my sports and instruments and began to act out. As Middle School continued, I learned that I could no longer rely on the adults around me for safety. I trained myself how to cope with the trauma that I was enduring, and while I kept straight A's, various aspects of my old identity became increasingly difficult to maintain. I grew cynical and stopped positively considering my future. Furthermore, I watched my loved ones endure mental illness and suffer from substance abuse. As a result, I neglected my own health. Once a competitive, high achieving person, I became a shell of the girl that I was. By my freshman year of High School, I had relocated across the country multiple times which caused isolation from both my friends and family. When my mother's denial and my sister's drug abuse hit its climax, I shifted into the role of caretaker to a self-destructive 19-year-old whom I loved too much to abandon. Despite my mental health approaching its lowest point, I made the resolution to become involved with school sports and to engage in my classes. While from the outside, I appeared to be performing normally, I spent that year in a haze, running on autopilot, unable to form relationships with anyone around me; I was sick and in need of help. That subsequent summer I patiently began my recovery. With the support of a caring new therapist, I became a person again. Over the following years, I learned and developed healthier ways to handle the stress of unstable environments and I stopped neglecting my own needs. Thankfully, as I worked on changing my internal complexities and conflicting ideologies, I recognized the high expectations I once had for myself and how I had failed them. Moreover, I relearned how to have hope for my future. This realization came along in a more extensive wave of recovery. I am no longer in a state of fight or flight but in the aftermath of survival. The rotting inside of me still comes and goes but I will not blame myself for its ache. I have determined that my coming of age will not be defined by my endurance, but of my forgiveness. I forgave myself for all the things that I did not become and now is my opportunity to focus on all the things that I can.

There is a rotting inside of me. A festering that feels kin with emptiness. On my worst weeks it piles on like bricks; every missed opportunity lay heavy on my back. It's sinister voice murmurs all the unique ways in which I should punish myself for not living up to my potential, but in my best weeks, it is silent. On my best days, I smother it in forgiveness, light a match, and watch it burn. I think this is what my therapist calls coping. When I turned nine years old, I began my stumble into anxiety. At home, the room would spin, and at school, I relied on paper bags to keep me breathing. Nonetheless, I loved the world and everything that came with it. But when I turned eleven the security of my family started to crumble. As my eldest sister left for college, my parents had a swift separation, and my second oldest sister was placed in the foster care system, my anxiety became insurmountable. The pain from my home life turned to rage and I quit my sports and instruments and began to act out. As Middle School continued, I learned that I could no longer rely on the adults around me for safety. I trained myself how to cope with the trauma that I was enduring, and while I kept straight A's, various aspects of my old identity became increasingly difficult to maintain. I grew cynical and stopped positively considering my future. Furthermore, I watched my loved ones endure mental illness and suffer from substance abuse. As a result, I neglected my own health. Once a competitive, high achieving person, I became a shell of the girl that I was. By my freshman year of High School, I had relocated across the country multiple times which caused isolation from both my friends and family. When my mother's denial and my sister's drug abuse hit its climax, I shifted into the role of caretaker to a self-destructive 19-year-old whom I loved too much to abandon. Despite my mental health approaching its lowest point, I made the resolution to become involved with school sports and to engage in my classes. While from the outside, I appeared to be performing normally, I spent that year in a haze, running on autopilot, unable to form relationships with anyone around me; I was sick and in need of help. That subsequent summer I patiently began my recovery. With the support of a caring new therapist, I became a person again. Over the following years, I learned and developed healthier ways to handle the stress of unstable environments and I stopped neglecting my own needs. Thankfully, as I worked on changing my internal complexities and conflicting ideologies, I recognized the high expectations I once had for myself and how I had failed them. Moreover, I relearned how to have hope for my future. This realization came along in a more extensive wave of recovery. I am no longer in a state of fight or flight but in the aftermath of survival. The rotting inside of me still comes and goes but I will not blame myself for its ache. I have determined that my coming of age will not be defined by my endurance, but of my forgiveness. I forgave myself for all the things that I did not become and now is my opportunity to focus on all the things that I can.