How can something as simple as an almond nearly kill a child? It was Christmas Day 2012, and my parents took me to visit my great-grandmother, Gram. Gram lived on an extensive ranch, stretching acres wide, and located far from the city. I wore the most sparkly dress that a 4-year-old could wear, excited to visit Gram's barn house and finally get a taste of her famous mouth-watering almond pudding. After placing the pudding-filled spoon onto my tongue, I broke out into hives, and my throat began to close. I was going into anaphylaxis. We were miles from the nearest hospital and, unaware of my allergy, my family hadn’t brought any epinephrine. Sparkly dress and all, my dad hauled me into his car and drove as fast as he could to the nearest hospital. We narrowly made it in time for the healthcare providers to treat my symptoms; however, it was a close call. After my near-death experience, I had to adapt my eating habits to avoid tree nuts. Every aspect of my life became tailored to avoiding the dangers of my allergy, from grocery shopping to birthday parties, weddings, and eating at restaurants. Eventually, avoiding tree nuts became intuitive, but only when I was older and could understand the consequences of an allergic reaction. As a children’s gymnastics coach, I have seen firsthand the vulnerability of this age range and how young kids struggle to recognize and communicate their symptoms. A student of mine unknowingly had a peanut allergy and ate a piece of candy containing peanuts. Fortunately, using my own experience, I was able to quickly recognize the early signs of an allergic reaction and call for help. However, if I were as uninformed as the majority of the U.S., my student’s outcome could have been tragic. According to the National Library of Medicine, approximately 150 children in the U.S. die from anaphylaxis caused by a food allergy each year. If a caregiver recognizes the symptoms too late, it may be too late for the child, especially those in rural locations without access to a nearby hospital. Many parents and educators lack the resources and education needed to truly prepare for the effects of anaphylaxis. My own experience with anaphylaxis has inspired me to pursue pediatrics to aid in preventing future tragedies. Having witnessed the panic during my student’s medical emergency, it reaffirmed to me the need for well-informed caregivers. Education on allergic reactions and the resources needed to treat these reactions is lacking, especially in rural areas without quick access to hospitals. Most deaths from anaphylaxis stem from a lack of knowledge in recognizing and treating an allergic reaction. Having experienced anaphylaxis myself, I know firsthand the dangers of not being educated on allergic reactions, especially in a rural area. As a future pediatrician, I intend to bridge this educational gap by teaching families how to recognize the early symptoms of allergic reactions, so they can respond quickly, an act that would reduce the number of children who die from anaphylaxis. This issue is critically important in rural areas, where the nearest hospital may be too far, and it could be too late for the child if the caregiver is unprepared. I was fortunate to survive my own experience, but not every child is as lucky. I hope to teach caregivers in rural areas how to recognize the early signs of anaphylaxis and treat the symptoms before it is too late. Death from anaphylaxis can be prevented, but only if a person has the knowledge to do so.

At the age of 3, my parents enrolled me in artistic gymnastics. My mom practiced gymnastics growing up, and she wanted to carry on her love for the sport through me. Even at such a young age, with every new skill, routine, or competition, my passion began to flourish. The smell of chalk, the bounce of the floor, and the sound a springboard makes when you hit it- all of it became addictive to me. As I progressed through this sport, my love for soaring through the air grew. Every flip I did felt like I was flying; it was euphoric. But whenever you fly, you must fall. My mother's death is what brought me back to the ground. She passed away from brain cancer when I was eleven, and I became consumed with grief. It felt as though I was living on autopilot, stuck in revolving thoughts and unable to escape my mind. I turned to the only constant in my life: gymnastics. This sport was an outlet for me, a healthy way for me to express my grief. Gymnastics gave me a purpose, and I pushed myself harder than I had ever done before. I found that my gym had become a second home, a home not filled with depressing memories, but instead with people who would help me move forward. What I loved most about this sport was the people and the connections I made with others. When my mom passed, my team banded together to raise my spirits by giving me a gift basket, with each teammate gifting me a meaningful item. After this moment, my love for sports became much deeper than surface level. Instead of simply enjoying the skills or routines, I learned that sports like gymnastics are about the connections you make and the people you meet. Eventually, my gymnasium closed down, and I transferred to a new team. My new coaches cost me my love of gymnastics. They made my previously favorite sport feel like a chore due to their harsh demands and lack of empathy. After I quit, my passion for the sport never disappeared, so I searched for other ways to participate. I eventually found my way to coaching, and my enthusiasm for the sport became reinstated. By becoming a coach, I have established a new coaching standard. One that does not repel kids away from this sport but instead encourages them to continue practicing their love for gymnastics. Regardless of what a kid may be going through, they all need love and support. I share my passion for gymnastics by transforming my gymnasium into a second home for the girls I coach, a place where they can make lifelong friends and grow their passions for sports. Whether by spotting new skills, cheering someone on, or simply being a listening ear in this big world, coaching this sport has been a way for me to give back, as those who helped when my world was falling apart. Gymnastics was never just a sport; it is a beacon of hope, calling struggling kids back to reality. Throughout my life, I will continue to work with children, longing to become a supportive lifeline for people who struggle to find their place in our world.