Two years ago, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. Two years ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. A year ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Two years ago, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. Two years ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. A year ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. A year ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

On the page or the screen, stories are powerful. We are drawn to them from a young age. We remember them almost effortlessly, we retell them without being instructed to, and we learn through them effectively. As humans, we were created to connect with stories.  However, in the current age of media, we have become accustomed to un-storied information: textbook facts and quick Google searches. Our attention spans have dramatically decreased as we find it difficult to sit through a 30-second video. Sadly, our lives have become too fast-paced for the richness of stories.  This can have detrimental effects on our spiritual growth. See, in literary terms, the Bible is many things: poetry, history, letters, prophecy, proverbs, etc., but ultimately, the Bible is a story. If we, as believers, allow ourselves to become unfamiliar with the medium of story, we subject ourselves to the danger of misunderstanding and misinterpreting God’s Word.  Thus, I believe the most valuable thing literature has taught me is the simple skill of interacting with story. A struggle between good and evil, a redemptive story arc, a heroic figure, a catastrophic climax reversed, and a happy ending are all literary tropes found in both historical and contemporary literature that reflect Biblical patterns. Familiarization with these patterns in extrabiblical sources equips us to approach the Bible in the way God designed and better understand the big-picture story of humanity's redemption.  As you can tell, stories are important to me. Here’s mine:  When I was 9 years old, my family moved internationally for the first time. My parents work abroad, providing humanitarian aid to refugees in Europe. While I deeply value their ministry, it has not made life easy for me. See, at 9 years old, I became the immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Periodically, our family has traveled for months at a time, and I have wrestled with loneliness and uncertainty. Though I still struggle, I have seen God beautifully redeem the difficult aspects of my life to bring me closer to Him. In the face of rejection, I turned to God for acceptance. In the face of loneliness, I turned to Him for friendship. In the face of uncertainty, I came to know God as constant, and in the face of anxiety, I relied on His mind-blowing peace.  God has often led me to healing through people who, rather than offer advice or false comfort when I was hurting, simply listened. I hope to be that person in the lives of other multicultural kids. This fall, I will begin studying psychology with the eventual goal of earning a doctoral degree and becoming a psychologist.  The mental health care field has long ignored the unique struggles of multicultural individuals. While that is slowly changing, this demographic is growing much faster than the resources available to them. I know firsthand how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. As a psychologist with a multicultural background, I will be in a prime position to have both an individual impact through accessible, specialized care for multicultural kids and a widespread, lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I believe we can make effective, culturally appropriate mental health care readily accessible to everyone.  And yes, I believe we will accomplish this by telling and listening to stories, just as God intended.

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. A year ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. I am still on this difficult, imperfect road to healing, but I am so thankful for how far I have already come. Today, I watch my 10-year-old younger brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety, and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many children stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental illnesses they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet, but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where case-appropriate professional counseling is affordable and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That’s exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for the generations to come, that the reality I described above might seem normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle, so many incredible people I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving who find themselves weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology until I earn a doctorate degree and become a psychologist. This will allow me to have both an individual impact through affordable, specialized care to multicultural kids and a widespread lasting impact through research and advocacy within the field itself. I know how frustrating the lack of culturally sensitive resources is, and I want to be a part of filling the gap. A year ago, after sharing about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I realized that I made accessible to the next generation, tools that were inaccessible to me. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

Last year, I had the opportunity to speak on bullying awareness at an elementary school assembly. For the first time, I publicly recounted my experiences with rejection and manipulation at school. I grew up as an immigrant who talked, dressed, ate, and believed differently than my peers. For years, I wanted nothing more than to feel accepted, but I was always disappointed. Throughout middle school, I struggled with minor depression but did not know this until years later because the adults around me did not have the tools or attention to recognize it. My teachers only reinforced discrimination in the classroom. While my parents did their best to help me, they knew that language and cultural barriers eliminated the few available and affordable counseling options. During my first year of high school, I suffered through several months of daily anxiety attacks. This instigated a personal research journey that led me to finally take my mental health seriously. Today, I watch my 10-year-old brother (who struggles with minor learning disabilities) exhibit early signs of anxiety and it pains me. It pains me to realize my experiences are not singular. So many kids stand where I once did— where my brother does today— surviving with mental health issues they cannot identify, deprived of access to culturally and situationally appropriate resources or professional care. I believe this can change. I do not have all the answers yet (that is why I am going to school, after all), but I believe in mental health support for children that extends beyond “school counselors” inaptly responsible for the academic and emotional wellness of hundreds of kids. As radical as it may sound, I believe in a world where mental health is valued just as highly as physical health and where mental healthcare is subject to the same standards of excellence, vigilance, and accessibility as physical healthcare. I believe in parents and teachers equipped to recognize the symptoms of mental illnesses and empowered to walk alongside children on a path to healing. I believe in safe emotional expression becoming a social norm. I believe in a world where language and cultural background are not obstacles to receiving effective care, where professional, case-appropriate counseling is affordable, and relevant mental health resources are accessible to everyone. Such a reality is possible, but only if we fight for it. That is exactly what I intend to do. I fight for my brother, swimming upstream in a school system incapable of accommodating his learning style. I fight for future generations, that the reality I described above might seem perfectly normal to them. I fight for those lost in this gruesome battle. I fight for Ryan and the many others I will never get to meet. I fight for those still surviving, but weaponless in a war they do not comprehend. I intend to study psychology and eventually become a psychologist. This will allow me to do two things: 1) provide affordable, expert care to children and teens who might not otherwise have access to therapy, and 2) change the field from within by conducting research on the most effective way to make mental healthcare accessible to school-aged kids and advocating for systems that achieve this goal. A year ago, as I shared about bullying and mental health with a room full of elementary-aged kids, I made tools that had been inaccessible to me accessible to the next generation. That is powerful! That is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Thank you for supporting my aspirations and fighting with me!

“Hey, new kid” is a pretty good way to get my attention. I’ve changed schools seven times since first grade and twice in high school. I know the ins and outs of American, Spanish, and British educational systems, public and private schools, small and large. And, since people take painstakingly long to accept and include newcomers, being called by my name in the school hallway is something I consider a rare privilege. Yes, being the new kid is hard. Yes, I have been affected by educational gaps due to mid-year moves. Yes, I sometimes wish I could have childhood friends like everyone else. Yes, I long for connection with those around me all while struggling with fear of attachment, because I’ve had to say so many goodbyes. Yes, I am familiar with loneliness. Yes, I’ve been bullied for being different. Yes, I have destructive people-pleasing tendencies that stem from a desire to be accepted. Yes, I have suffered from chronic anxiety during most of my teenage years as a result. But no, these are not the only ways the “new kid” experience has impacted my life. It’s also, with time, made me a more resilient, adaptable, independent, self-respecting person. You could never convince me to trade that for an easier, simpler childhood. Sure, within a given system, it can be a disadvantage to have different academic foundations than expected. Nonetheless, I believe that exposure to so many different kinds of schools and educational systems has deeply enriched my learning. For example, I can recognize mathematical structures in more than one type of notation and I have studied historical events like the American Revolution from both the American and British perspectives. Further, when moving schools, I often had to fill in educational gaps myself. I used textbooks and independent research to teach myself what had already been covered in my classes. This invaluable skill allowed me to excel academically, regardless of what setting I found myself in, and developed an educational autonomy that empowers me to take interest in learning beyond test requirements. For me, one of the most challenging aspects of changing schools is saying goodbyes and building new friendships. That said, I am thankful for the lessons I have learned in this area over the years and how they have improved my social life. I learned that saying goodbye well is important. I learned that deep human connection is necessary for mental well-being. I learned that when I choose to be myself instead of trying to please others, I end up in fulfilling relationships, and I learned that those friendships are always worth the pain of having to say goodbye later. Moreover, my history as a new kid has significantly influenced my career goals. I have passed through the undeniably hard parts of a transient childhood, but in recent years I have passionately pursued my own mental health and grasped it. That’s why today, I can recognize the positive outcomes of my hardships. Unfortunately, so many kids do not have the support system or the resources I did to get me where I am today. I aspire to change that. I am in a prime position to empathize with new kids like me who struggle with mental illness and can’t yet see the light at the end of the tunnel. So, I plan to study psychology and become a mental healthcare provider. That way, I can help them do what I did. That way, I can empower other new kids to find healing and thrive.

One day in seventh grade, my friend came into school with cut marks on his arms. Like me, he was a foreigner living in Spain and was bullied for it, for being different. Until then, I had never considered the possibility of losing a friend to mental illness. I was scared. I was heart-broken for my friend and indignant at the cruelty of the world we both lived in. That day, I asked him about it. He told me. And I listened—really listened without trying to come up with what I needed to say next. I couldn’t fix his circumstances, but I could be there for him and listen. To this day, He has never cut himself again and is doing so much better. That day, I learned the importance of shutting up and listening, something that has radically enriched and deepened my relationships (which I used to a be afraid of, but now find joy in!) Third culture kids (people who grow up in more than one culture) face many unique challenges in life, many of which result in unique mental health challenges. Because our culture is a mixture of at least two different ones, we don’t conform completely to either. We don’t fit in anywhere and, as I mentioned above, this can easily lead to bullying and social exclusion. We tend to struggle a lot with identity, due to our lack of national identity and the conflicting labels we are constantly given. Further, our lives are generally very transient meaning that we are afraid to put down roots or build deep relationships, knowing that it just makes goodbye harder. And yet, these individuals have been largely ignored by mental health care providers. Resources tailored to their situation and needs are extremely underdeveloped and inaccessible. Those that do seek counseling, often only find it online from a monocultural professional that may not even speak their heart language. Such inadequate care sends many TCKs down a dark road of isolation and not everyone recovers from it. I’ve been on that road. It wasn’t until God connected me with people who listened well and loved and mentored me, that I started the journey to healing. As thankful as I am for the process, it could have been a lot smoother had I had access to professional care. I believe that everyone needs someone in their life that will listen to them. That’s just hard to come by in our noisy world. I believe that everyone deserves accessible and culturally appropriate mental health care in their heart language. I believe that caring for our mental health and empowering others to do so honors God (who created our minds) and upholds His commandment to steward creation. I believe that excellence in mental health care is just as important as any other health care field. And that is why I choose to pursue a bachelor’s degree in psychology. It is the first step to eventually gaining a doctorate which will equip me to provide the best care possible to third culture individuals and allow me to contribute research on TCKs to the field. Because of my experience, I recognize the importance of mental health care and the huge need among TCKs. I want to dedicate my life to bridging that gap.

I cannot remember a time when my parents were not actively involved in ministry. We moved around quite a lot when I was younger as God led my family to minister in different parts of the country. I was 9, however, when we first moved internationally to serve diaspora people groups in Europe through humanitarian aid efforts. All that to say, serving my community was never a question of if, but how. By the time I was 12, I was leading a summer English program for younger kids at a local community outreach center. I had helped out in my parents' ministries all my life, but this was the first time I took ownership of a project and made it happen. I was hooked. So I began taking initiative more often. I started a Bible Study at my school, I formed a welcome team for my youth group to create a more inviting environment, and I volunteered at a charity cafe. Then, once I turned 16 I decided to switch to online schooling which would give me the flexibility to get more involved in my community during the week. I started volunteering regularly at a food bank where I took on an assortment of roles from moving and packing boxes of food to working at the paperwork desk to cleaning the facilities. The most exciting way I get to impact my community is through prayer. Roughly a year ago, my friend and I started a prayer ministry in affiliation with the food bank because distribution out of the European-sized (AKA tiny) space had become extremely hectic and greater numbers of volunteers only added to the chaos. We stepped outside the building and prayed. We prayed for cooperation and understanding between volunteers, for patience from the beneficiaries, for smooth operations all the way around, and for the peace of God to fill the space. And that’s exactly what happened. It's hard to explain, but anxiety receded, positive conversations increased, and on days when neither I nor my prayer partner could be there, people said they noticed our absence in the stress of the morning rush. Prayer is quite literally transforming this local food bank. I am thankful for all the ways God allows me to serve Him, from youth group leadership to advocating against human trafficking, to cleaning toilets at my church. But I feel especially blessed by the opportunity to dedicate a few hours every week to simply talking with Him and watching Him work instead of trying to do it myself. That is my motivation. When I witness my God at work around me, I can't help but follow his lead. With my parents to model a Christ-like lifestyle of service, and my ultimate inspiration, Jesus Himself who "came not to be served but to serve others" (Matthew 20:28, NLT), how could I not serve the people around me?

The Lord of the Rings, Little Women, A Wrinkle in Time, The Wingfeather Saga, All the Light We Cannot See, The Hiding Place… These and so many more come to mind when asked to suggest a book. They are my favorites, but to choose any of these for everyone in the world to read would be to pompously impose my taste on great numbers of people who do not share it. Just as I could not enjoy the greatly celebrated The Hunger Games, surely some would not enjoy or benefit from my favorite novels. Diversity is beautiful. I do not wish to undermine it. So, I must ask myself, is there a book that uplifts the full vastness of human diversity? Could there ever be a book so universal—one that transcends culture, class and personality; one that is relevant to 8 billion individuals? It is impossible, you might say, but I am convinced otherwise. For I know a book that is cherished by people of entirely different literary preferences and backgrounds. This book uses the unique voices of 40 farmers, poets, nobles, soldiers, religious leaders, rebels, societal outcasts, scholars, and fishermen from different people groups and eras to tell a single unified story beyond what any one of them could have told. Talk about a celebration of humanity! Further, the story it tells is intricately orchestrated so that each smaller plot contributes to and reflects the overarching narrative. It is a story of comedy and tragedy; of romance, adventure, mystery, and memoir. It is deeply unconventional, flipping human constructs on their heads and embracing mind-boggling paradoxes. Yet, it establishes literary conventions such as the redemptive plot structure and contrasting good and evil. More than a true story, it is the story of truth. No book has had greater influence on the fabric of literature, civilization, and philosophy than this book. Thus, to read it is to gain insight into the world as is today. Moreover, this book challenges its readers. It inspires them to live differently, boldly and purposefully; to love others and love their Creator. And while it is up to the individual to decide how to respond to the text, this book leaves no one indifferent. It is both life-changing and world-changing! What could be a more important read? If I could have everyone in the world read just one book, it would undoubtedly be the Bible.

When I dream of my future, I see a mental health care provider offering tailored services to third culture kids, a published author whose books speak truth into the noise of modern media, and a dedicated mom who teaches her children to dream big, never stop learning, and love all people.