As a biracial individual, one thing I remember feeling throughout my K-12 education was that I didn't belong. Most of my teachers and friends were white. My community members were predominantly white. I never read a book with characters that looked or talked like me. This lack of representation is a major problem in school systems and has remained unresolved for decades. Diversity isn't going away, and the least we can do for future generations is acknowledge their unique existences and support them as they discover who they are. Incorporating diversity into the classroom can take many different forms. As a future English teacher, I'm committed to including diverse literature in my instruction and on the bookshelves in my classroom. I want my students to find the books with characters that they feel connected to and resemble them. Students that feel represented are way more likely to read a book and maybe even learn to love reading again. They'll learn more about themselves and the world they live in because suddenly, the story is relevant to them. I also want my classroom to be a safe space for students of all different races, cultures, genders, sexualities, etc. The most transformative writing assignments I ever did in school allowed me to focus on these different aspects of my identity and explore who I was. I want all students to have this opportunity, and I hope that they will feel safe and comfortable enough within the walls of my classroom to share those parts of themselves with each other. No matter how it's done, I believe including diverse perspectives in every classroom is a simple change we can make to significantly impact the education of all students. Each student is different, and there is no one that can explain their experience better than them. We need to give students a voice and show them their experiences and identities matter by representing them throughout their education.

I had a favorite teacher in high school who has since been an incredible inspiration in my vision for my future. He taught English - and he taught it well. He also valued each and every one of us as students and as people, making us feel like we mattered when we stepped foot in his classroom. I want to be a high school English teacher because of him, and teaching is my biggest goal for my future because I would feel fulfilled if I left even a portion of the impact he left on his students on mine. My other goal is to continue my own education. I've been involved with research projects while in college that I hope to continue, and I want to eventually get my master's in English as well. Educational equity and reform are important to me, and I want to continue research and advocacy while establishing myself as an educator in whatever community or area of the world I may find myself in. However, above all, my biggest goal for myself and my future is to be happy. I've spent too long putting my academics, my social life, and my aspirations, above my own happiness. Life is beautiful, and it's incredibly easy to miss out on it when trying to accomplish certain things. I'm guilty of keeping busy to the point of distraction, and I want to challenge myself to slow down a little. Embrace every day, appreciate the intricate parts of this world, and find happiness in everything I do - those are my priorities in all my future endeavors.

“Be the reason someone believes in the goodness of people.” It can be incredibly hard to keep going when it seems like the world is spiraling into chaos around us. Every time the news is on, there are new reports of violence, protests, and the latest deaths from the virus. People hate each other for who they are, and they act on that hate daily. We’re all just trying to survive, but we don’t make it any easier on each other. To me, this quote is my reminder that I can be the person that reminds someone else there is still good in this world. The world can be harsh, the world can be cruel, but the world can also be beautiful. I’ve found that it’s often in the smallest, individual moments that the beautiful shines most clearly. This quote is a powerful reminder to me that I can be that beautiful force in someone else's life. As someone who struggles with my own mental health, some days it’s hard for me just to get out of bed in the morning and keep living. I fight a constant battle with my own mind. It’s discouraging to watch everyone tear each other apart, but we have the choice to be kind and good to each other instead. If I can - even unconsciously - make someone’s day better or spread positivity through my words and actions, that’s what I want to do. That’s what makes me happy. This quote means that I can’t give up and stop living because I have the power to impact others around me. The power to encourage, to inspire, to uplift, to help them believe in the goodness of people. Ultimately, life’s too short to not believe in the goodness in this world.

My mind is like a field of dense, tangled spiderwebs. Horrific and impossible to escape. I’m trapped in my own head, but on the outside, I seem fine. I am fine. I say it over and over until eventually I almost convince myself that it’s true. To my friends, to my family, to everyone around me, “I’m fine.” But I’m not. Not really. I was in eighth grade when I first started struggling with anxiety, and since then, you could say I’ve lived a double life. There’s the version of me that lives inside my head, and then there’s the version of me that the world sees. It got worse in high school. It seemed like everyone around me was fine, and I didn’t understand why my heart would race after answering a simple question in class or I felt like everything was caving in around me when there were changes to my schedule. I lived for consistency, and I thought the more control I had over my life, the less anxiety I would feel. As we all know, there isn’t much we do actually have control over in life, meaning I lived in a constant state of panic about the unknown. I never talked about what I was feeling because, in my head, there was nothing anyone could do to fix me. I pushed away so many of my friends and family members and put up a front. They believed I was happy. I was quietly spiraling. Distraction was the only coping mechanism I knew, so I threw myself into school, extracurriculars, and my job. The busier I was, the less time I had to think. When the world shut down, the pandemic caused all these distractions to come to a screeching halt. I had more time with my thoughts than I ever had before, and my suppressed emotions exploded all at once like a volcanic eruption. I eventually hit rock bottom, and I realized I had been isolating myself far before isolation became a federal mandate. There were days I laid in bed and cried and then turned around and invalidated my own struggles. It didn’t make sense to me - I didn't have a bully, I didn’t have unresolved trauma, I didn’t have a trigger. I just was. I was depressed, anxious, and for what felt like the longest time, ready to die. I wanted out. I wanted the tornado of thoughts to stop, and I so desperately wanted to remember what peace felt like. I couldn’t tell you exactly what changed things because it was a long process, but a lot of it had to do with music. I never used to be into music, but eventually listening to music became my escape. I fell in love with music, and I felt seen by these people who didn’t even know who I was but somehow knew how I felt. I shared my feelings through songs, and that was how I began to painstakingly pull myself out of the hole I’d been digging since eighth grade. It was a long time coming, but I learned so much about myself and the world through my mental health journey. I learned that mental illness doesn’t discriminate - on the outside, it could look like someone has the perfect life, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t terrified they’re going to lose it by their own hand. I learned that I don’t need a trigger or an explanation for the way I feel. I started praying again and grew in my faith. I learned how valuable it is to let people help you and be with you in the midst of pain. I mended relationships with those closest to me by letting them into some of the darker corners of my mind. I finally finished high school, graduating in the middle of a pandemic, an accomplishment that allowed me to focus on what I want for myself and my future. These past few years have been the best and worst of my life. My struggle with mental illness has also made me much more observant of others. We’re all just moving through this world trying to survive each day. We all have our inner demons, the deepest parts of our minds that we’re constantly trying to escape. We’re all wearing masks with painted smiles, hiding our suffering from the people around us. As much as it is difficult and painful, it really is important to let others in. To take off the mask, to stop saying “I’m fine” when it’s nothing but a lie. It’s awfully easy to feel alone in this world full of people, but it doesn’t have to be that way. The more we talk about mental health, the easier it will be to help each other. My journey with mental health hasn’t ended - it’s a constant battle, and some days are better than others. I’m twenty, and still trying to figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life. I used to think I wouldn’t live to see my twenties, but now I dream. I want to finish college. I want to become a teacher. I want to be there for my students and make my classroom the safe haven I wished I had in high school. High school can be hard - I remember what it felt like to wake up each morning, and the only thing I looked forward to was being able to get back in bed that night. Kids and teenagers need to be taught that it’s okay to struggle, and there is NEVER shame in asking for help. I don’t know if I’ll ever win my own war against anxiety, but I’m proud that I’ve made it this far. I have things to look forward to and people to help by sharing my story.

As an English Language Arts Education major at Miami University and future high school English teacher, obviously I value education - both my own and the education of others. However, the undergraduate research project I started freshman year has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. My research revolves around education as well, with a focus on implementing a virtual tutoring program that pairs preservice teachers at Miami with foster children in the local community. I’m working with one of my professors to evaluate the pilot program we created last year and prepare it for large-scale implementation, so that hopefully, we can serve a greater number of students next fall. The local kids we have helped support thus far were provided with educational services and mentor support from college students, positively affecting their learning and self-esteem. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. If our society truly does value education - and we need a college degree to be certified for many jobs - it doesn't make sense that there are still populations of students left at a disadvantage due to their identity, race, gender, background and home life, etc. There is more we can be doing for these students, and this is what I'm passionate about fixing in our world.

Perched at the end of a table, staring at each of us in turn with a newly opened can of La Croix in hand, he began to ask questions. “What are you trying to accomplish by asking this research question? Who cares about the answer? What are the real-world implications of your findings?” Then, after a moment of reflection, “What is your purpose? Not your "porpoise," like the mammals at SeaWorld, but your purpose,” he said. And with that, the thoughtful silence filling the room was sliced neatly in half as we got sidetracked by a joke we had all heard many times before. Somehow, it was still just as funny that time around because of the look on his face. That’s typical Mr. McKibben. At first glance, my former AP Seminar and AP Research teacher appears to be just another wise, intellectual teacher. Once you get the pleasure of experiencing his class, however, he becomes a teacher known for his cheesy, predictable jokes--and the way he randomly breaks into song in the middle of his teaching. While Mr. McKibben’s classes were without a doubt challenging, they were also rewarding, as Mr. McKibben is the epitome of an exceptional teacher. He not only reinforces his students' growth, he consistently works to further his own education, currently in pursuit of yet another Master’s degree to add to his previous theater, history, literature, and education majors and minors. Even when the expectations were high and the deadlines strict, I never heard a disrespectful word uttered against him. Mr. McKibben had our best interests in mind and was always happy to explain why the paper was due on Friday and not Monday. As a father and an avid reader, Mr. McKibben knows so much about so many diverse topics. Pick one--any one you like--because once you get him talking, he won’t stop until he reaches the end of the track his train of thought races down. Whenever he speaks, he’s mindful, thinking deeply before responding. Studying the ceiling during this brief pause, you can almost see the speech bubble above his head like the ones in comic strips. Even before Mr. McKibben, I loved to read and write, and my dream job was to be a teacher. With Mr. McKibben’s class came hard work, which merely served to reaffirm my goal. I realized that not only do I want to teach, I want to teach English and leave a “McKibben-sized impact” on my students. Junior year of high school, a scheduling conflict was the only reason I landed in Mr. McKibben's AP Seminar class. I didn’t think I would enjoy it, because for some reason, I thought research was boring. Well, boy was I wrong! AP Seminar ended up being my favorite class. Mr. McKibben changed my view on research, English--even the world at times--with the knowledge he shared. He pushed my limits and then encouraged me to take a step further; he taught my class how to think, develop questions, and consider as many perspectives as we could. I wouldn’t have half the research skills I have today without Mr. McKibben, and I DEFINITELY wouldn’t have decided to start my own undergraduate research during my first year in college. I have him to thank for inspiring me to not just pursue higher education, but take advantage of every opportunity to learn, grow, and make a difference. Class with Mr. McKibben was never boring or typical, that’s for sure. I don’t believe it ever will be either, because this is a teacher who has encountered and embraced his true "porpoise" in life.

I have two simple pleasures in my life that bring me so much joy - and the first of these is the time I spend with my friends. Moving away to college introduced me to some of my best friends and people that I love with all my heart. They take care of me on my worse days and are the first to hype me up and celebrate my good days. My friends sometimes are the only thing keeping me going, and there truly aren't words to express how much I love and appreciate them. All it takes is a coffee study date or dinner out to improve my mood and make me significantly happier. My friends are the best gift college has given me. The second simple pleasure in my life is music. I absolutely love singing and listening to music. I connect to music in a way I connect to nothing else, and it's one of my favorite things in this world. The way others choose to express themselves through music often makes me feel seen for who I am and how I'm feeling. I relate to some lyrics, others encourage and leave me feeling ready to take on anything. Music is my safe place and my go-to when I'm in need of something to make me happy.

Considering the state of the world these past few years, teachers have been asked to do things quite outside their comfort zone and adapt to a world where in-person classes aren't possible. I've always believed education is important, but recent events have made it increasingly more clear that education is a powerful driving force for change. Continuing to learn will make our world leaders stronger, will improve race relations and create solutions to social injustice, and will ultimately carve a path towards a brighter future. This excites me, because as a future teacher, I'll get to play a role in helping my students discover what they're passionate about and accomplish amazing things. Teachers have so much influence in the lives and futures of their students, and I am hopeful that I will be able to impact my students by supporting and serving them. This past year, I continued my educational journey at Miami University as an Integrated Language Arts Education major. Additionally, I'm currently working on an undergraduate research project with one of my professors. We created and evaluated a pilot program that paired preservice teachers at Miami with foster children for virtual tutoring experiences. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. They experience far more school and home instability, emotional and behavioral challenges (often trauma-related), and physical and mental health problems than the average student. All these barriers can significantly hinder their learning and lead to negative life outcomes. The program that I helped start last year provided free tutoring services to 15 foster children in the local community surrounding my college campus. Over the summer, I studied the project outcomes to prepare for large scale implementation, reach even more foster families, and support both future teachers and foster students in their educational pursuits. During this pandemic especially, the deep inequalities that exist within education have been exposed in communities across the world. Education is valued in our society, yet we aren’t giving students a fair shot at success - many of them have dozens of hurdles standing in their way. Every child can be successful, and every child deserves the opportunity to learn and grow. My research experience has taught me about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. Whether it’s tutoring programs like the one I helped start last year, or smaller efforts to get each student the unique support they need to be successful, we can make a difference. I have seen firsthand how important it is to make schools more inclusive and bring equity back into education, and I think I can do my part by getting back into the classroom. I have always known that I wanted to teach, and my college education and experiences will give me the tools to give back to my community and make a difference in students’ lives. I want to feel prepared to meet the challenges that come with having and supporting a diverse classroom of students. High school can be a tough time for some, but it can also be the four best years of some kids' lives. I want my classroom to be a safe space where every student feels like they can be themselves and be successful. We can’t stop fighting for equality in schools, and we can’t stop serving our kids because they are the future and our best chance at making the world a better place.

There are two things in my life right now that consistently bring me so much joy - and the first of these is the time I spend with my friends. Moving away to college introduced me to some of my best friends and people that I love with all my heart. They take care of me on my worse days and are the first to hype me up and celebrate my good days. My friends sometimes are the only thing keeping me going, and there truly aren't words to express how much I love and appreciate them. All it takes is a coffee study date or dinner out to improve my mood and make me significantly happier. My friends are the best gift college has given me. The second thing in my life that makes me happy is music. I absolutely love singing and listening to music. I connect to music in a way I connect to nothing else, and it's one of my favorite things in this world. The way others choose to express themselves through music often makes me feel seen for who I am and how I'm feeling. I relate to some lyrics, others encourage and leave me feeling ready to take on anything. Music is my safe place and my go-to when I'm in need of something to make me happy.

“Be the reason someone believes in the goodness of people.” It can be incredibly hard to keep going when it seems like the world is spiraling into chaos around us. Every time the news is on, there are new reports of violence, protests, and the latest deaths from the virus. People hate each other for who they are, and they act on that hate daily. We’re all just trying to survive, but we don’t make it any easier on each other. To me, this quote is my reminder that I can be the person that reminds someone else there is still good in this world. The world can be harsh, the world can be cruel, but the world can also be beautiful. I’ve found that it’s often in the smallest, individual moments that the beautiful shines most clearly. This quote is a powerful reminder to me that I can be that beautiful force in someone else's life. As someone who struggles with my own mental health, some days it’s hard for me just to get out of bed in the morning and keep living. I fight a constant battle with my own mind. It’s discouraging to watch everyone tear each other apart, but we have the choice to be kind and good to each other instead. If I can - even unconsciously - make someone’s day better or spread positivity through my words and actions, that’s what I want to do. That’s what makes me happy. This quote means that I can’t give up and stop living because I have the power to impact others around me. The power to encourage, to inspire, to uplift, to help them believe in the goodness of people. Ultimately, life’s too short to not believe in the goodness in this world.

I was with one of my best friends from college one night, and while we originally planned to go out and do something, we quickly ditched that idea and decided to just drive around and hang out. We got milkshakes, listened to music, and talked for hours about life. I remember thinking while he was driving that in that moment, I was the most at peace I had been in a really long time. Happy is an understatement - my heart was so full, and I feel like I will always remember the time I spent with him that night.

As an English Language Arts Education major at Miami University and future high school English teacher, obviously I value education - both my own and the education of others. However, the undergraduate research project I started freshman year has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. My research revolves around education as well, with a focus on implementing a virtual tutoring program that pairs preservice teachers at Miami with foster children in the community. I’m working with one of my professors to evaluate the pilot program we created last year and prepare it for large-scale implementation, so that hopefully, we can serve a greater number of students next fall. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. If our society truly does value education - and we need a college degree to be certified for many jobs - it doesn't make sense that there are still populations of students left at a disadvantage due to their identity, race, gender, background and home life, etc. There is more we can be doing for these students, and this is what I'm passionate about fixing in our world.

I want to teach something worth remembering. Ever since I was young, I’ve known that I wanted to be a teacher. My main goal for the future is to finish my undergraduate studies at Miami University as an English Language Arts major. I'm hoping to teach high school English after I graduate and also pursue my master's in education later on. Another goal of mine is to continue the undergraduate research project I started freshman year. My research revolves around education as well, with a focus on implementing a virtual tutoring program that pairs preservice teachers at Miami with foster children in the community. I’m working with one of my professors to evaluate the pilot program we created last year and prepare it for large-scale implementation, so that hopefully, we can serve a greater number of students next fall. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. My research experience has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. I want to continue research and community service endeavors throughout my college experience because I think it’s a great way to further my education beyond the classroom and serve others at the same time. I value education - both my own and the education of others - and this ultimately drives much of my vision for my future.

I have two simple pleasures in my life that bring me so much joy - and the first of these is the time I spend with my friends. Moving away to college introduced me to some of my best friends and people that I love with all my heart. They take care of me on my worse days and are the first to hype me up and celebrate my good days. My friends sometimes are the only thing keeping me going, and there truly aren't words to express how much I love and appreciate them. All it takes is a coffee study date or dinner out to improve my mood and make me significantly happier. My friends are the best gift college has given me. The second simple pleasure in my life is music. I absolutely love singing and listening to music. I connect to music in a way I connect to nothing else, and it's one of my favorite things in this world. The way others choose to express themselves through music often makes me feel seen for who I am and how I'm feeling. I relate to some lyrics, others encourage and leave me feeling ready to take on anything. Music is my safe place and my go-to when I'm in need of something to make me happy.

Oftentimes, our mental health affects not just our minds but our bodies and physical health as well. Struggling with a mental illness, or even just having a period of poor mental health, can lead to just as many physical symptoms and sicknesses as not taking care of our bodies because stress can hinder our immune system's ability to function and protect us. I think there is so much value in making sure we're happy and doing things for ourselves. This could look like scheduling our days with time to relax and do an activity we enjoy, or making a point to have mental check-ins with ourselves and changing habits that aren't contributing positively to our mood and energy. I think this acknowledgment of the importance of our mental health is the best way to live a long, healthy life because it's often the part of health that people tend to forget. We are so focused on eating healthy, exercising, and getting enough sleep - all super important things - that our mental health gets pushed to the side. Staying happy looks different for every person, but we should make the effort figure out how to take care of ourselves mentally to ensure a long, happy life.

My mind is like a field of dense, tangled spiderwebs. Horrific and impossible to escape. I’m trapped in my own head, but on the outside, I seem fine. I am fine. I say it over and over until eventually I almost convince myself that it’s true. To my friends, to my family, to everyone around me, “I’m fine.” But I’m not. Not really. I was in eighth grade when I first started struggling with anxiety, and since then, you could say I’ve lived a double life. There’s the version of me that lives inside my head, and then there’s the version of me that the world sees. It got worse in high school. It seemed like everyone around me was fine, and I didn’t understand why my heart would race after answering a simple question in class or I felt like everything was caving in around me when there were changes to my schedule. I lived for consistency, and I thought the more control I had over my life, the less anxiety I would feel. As we all know, there isn’t much we do actually have control over in life, meaning I lived in a constant state of panic about the unknown. I never talked about what I was feeling because, in my head, there was nothing anyone could do to fix me. I pushed away so many of my friends and family members and put up a front. They believed I was happy. I was quietly spiraling. Distraction was the only coping mechanism I knew, so I threw myself into school, extracurriculars, and my job. The busier I was, the less time I had to think. Last year, the pandemic caused all these distractions to come to a screeching halt. I had more time with my thoughts than I ever had before, and my suppressed emotions exploded all at once like a volcanic eruption. I eventually hit rock bottom, and I realized I had been isolating myself far before isolation became a federal mandate. There were days I laid in bed and cried and then turned around and invalidated my own struggles. It didn’t make sense to me - I didn't have a bully, I didn’t have unresolved trauma, I didn’t have a trigger. I just was. I was depressed, anxious, and for what felt like the longest time, ready to die. I wanted out. I wanted the tornado of thoughts to stop, and I so desperately wanted to remember what peace felt like. I couldn’t tell you exactly what changed things because it was a long process, but a lot of it had to do with music. I never used to be into music, but eventually listening to music became my escape. I fell in love with music, and I felt seen by these people who didn’t even know who I was but somehow knew how I felt. I shared my feelings through songs, and that was how I began to painstakingly pull myself out of the hole I’d been digging since eighth grade. It was a long time coming, but I learned so much about myself and the world through my mental health journey this past year. I learned that mental illness doesn’t discriminate - on the outside, it could look like someone has the perfect life, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t terrified they’re going to lose it by their own hand. I learned that I don’t need a trigger or an explanation for the way I feel. I started praying again and grew in my faith. I learned how valuable it is to let people help you and be with you in the midst of pain. I mended relationships with those closest to me by letting them into some of the darker corners of my mind. I finally finished high school, graduating in the middle of a pandemic, an accomplishment that allowed me to focus on what I want for myself and my future. This past year has been the best and worst year of my life. My struggle with mental illness has also made me much more observant of others. We’re all just moving through this world trying to survive each day. We all have our inner demons, the deepest parts of our minds we’re constantly trying to escape. We’re all wearing masks with painted smiles, hiding our suffering from the people around us. As much as it is difficult and painful, it really is important to let others in. To take off the mask, to stop saying “I’m fine” when it’s nothing but a lie. It’s awfully easy to feel alone in this world full of people, but it doesn’t have to be that way. The more we talk about mental health, the easier it will be to help each other. My journey with mental health hasn’t ended - it’s a constant battle, and some days are better than others. I’m nineteen, and still trying to figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life. I used to think I wouldn’t live to see my twenties, but now I dream. I want to finish college. I want to become a teacher. I want to be there for my students and make my classroom the safe haven I wished I had in high school. High school can be hard - I remember what it felt like to wake up each morning, and the only thing I looked forward to was being able to get back in bed that night. Kids and teenagers need to be taught that it’s okay to struggle, and there is NEVER shame in asking for help. I don’t know if I’ll ever win my own war against anxiety, but I’m proud that I’ve made it this far. I have things to look forward to and people to help by sharing my story.

I want to teach something worth remembering. Ever since I was young, I’ve known that I wanted to be a teacher. I don’t know if it had something to do with the fact that I grew up as the oldest of five, and my siblings and I used to play pretend school on our lazy summer afternoons. I don’t know if it had something to do with my early exposure to education through the picture books my mom read to me every day until I could read them all myself at age four. I don’t know if it had something to do with my favorite teacher in high school who always told me that the world needed more good teachers - and he believed that could be me. It probably was a combination of all those small, seemingly insignificant moments in my life - but at the end of the day, I knew I was meant to be a teacher. This past spring, I finished my first year at Miami University as an English Language Arts major. I’m part of a faith-based organization on campus that I absolutely love, and I just recently got involved in undergraduate research. My research revolves around education as well, with a focus on implementing a virtual tutoring program that pairs preservice teachers at Miami with foster children in the community. I’m working with one of my professors to evaluate the pilot program we created last year and prepare it for large-scale implementation, so that hopefully, we can serve a greater number of students next fall. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. My research experience has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. I want to continue research and community service endeavors throughout my college experience because I think it’s a great way to further my education beyond the classroom and serve others at the same time. Currently, I’ve also become really passionate about social justice issues (particularly regarding educational equity, but I’m also interested in issues of race, gender, class, and identity). It’s a relatively new interest of mine, but I’ve been considering picking up a second major in social justice studies to complement my education major. I started to learn more about historical roots of inequalities, racial inequalities in particular, in some of my education courses this year. I’ve never felt more passionate and empowered learning something new than I did in those classes, and as a future teacher, many of those topics are extremely relevant to the education system as well. Ultimately, it’s important to me to continue to pursue higher education because I believe my college education and experiences will prepare me to get back into the classroom - this time on the opposite side of the teacher’s desk. My education has given me the ability to see what is possible and what I can do to make a difference in my community and in the world.

“Be the reason someone believes in the goodness of people.” It can be incredibly hard to keep going when it seems like the world is spiraling into chaos around us. Every time the news is on, there are new reports of violence, protests, shootings, and the latest deaths from the virus. People hate each other for who they are, and they act on that hate daily. We’re all just trying to survive, but we usually don’t make it any easier on each other. To me, this quote is my reminder that I can be the person that reminds someone else there is still good in this world. We’re broken, but there is always hope for healing and better times ahead. The world can be harsh, the world can be cruel, but the world can also be beautiful. I’ve found that it’s often in the smallest, individual moments that the beautiful shines most clearly. This quote is a powerful reminder to me that I can be that beautiful force in someone else's life. As someone who struggles with my own mental health, some days it’s hard for me just to get out of bed in the morning and keep living. I fight a constant battle with my own mind. It’s discouraging to watch everyone tear each other apart, but we have the choice to be kind and good to each other instead. If I can - even unconsciously - make someone’s day better or spread positivity through my words and actions, that’s what I want to do. That’s what makes me happy. This quote means that I can’t give up and stop living because I have the power to impact others around me. The power to encourage, to inspire, to uplift, to help them believe in the goodness of people. Ultimately, life’s too short to not believe in the goodness in this world.

My mind is like a field of dense, tangled spiderwebs. Horrific and impossible to escape. I’m trapped in my own head, but on the outside, I seem fine. I am fine. I say it over and over until eventually I almost convince myself that it’s true. To my friends, to my family, to everyone around me, “I’m fine.” But I’m not. Not really. I was in eighth grade when I first started struggling with anxiety, and since then, you could say I’ve lived a double life. There’s the version of me that lives inside my head, and then there’s the version of me that the world sees. It got worse in high school. It seemed like everyone around me was fine, and I didn’t understand why my heart would race after answering a simple question in class or I felt like everything was caving in around me when there were changes to my schedule. I lived for consistency, and I thought the more control I had over my life, the less anxiety I would feel. As we all know, there isn’t much we do actually have control over in life, meaning I lived in a constant state of panic about the unknown. I never talked about what I was feeling because, in my head, there was nothing anyone could do to fix me. I pushed away so many of my friends and family members and put up a front. They believed I was happy. I was quietly spiraling. Distraction was the only coping mechanism I knew, so I threw myself into school, extracurriculars, and my job. The busier I was, the less time I had to think. Last year, the pandemic caused all these distractions to come to a screeching halt. I had more time with my thoughts than I ever had before, and my suppressed emotions exploded all at once like a volcanic eruption. I eventually hit rock bottom, and I realized I had been isolating myself far before isolation became a federal mandate. There were days I laid in bed and cried and then turned around and invalidated my own struggles. It didn’t make sense to me - I didn't have a bully, I didn’t have unresolved trauma, I didn’t have a trigger. I just was. I was depressed, anxious, and for what felt like the longest time, ready to die. I wanted out. I wanted the tornado of thoughts to stop, and I so desperately wanted to remember what peace felt like. I couldn’t tell you exactly what changed things because it was a long process, but a lot of it had to do with music. I never used to be into music, but eventually listening to music became my escape. I fell in love with music, and I felt seen by these people who didn’t even know who I was but somehow knew how I felt. I shared my feelings through songs, and that was how I began to painstakingly pull myself out of the hole I’d been digging since eighth grade. It was a long time coming, but I learned so much about myself and the world through my mental health journey this past year. I learned that mental illness doesn’t discriminate - on the outside, it could look like someone has the perfect life, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t terrified they’re going to lose it by their own hand. I learned that I don’t need a trigger or an explanation for the way I feel. I started praying again and grew in my faith. I learned how valuable it is to let people help you and be with you in the midst of pain. I mended relationships with those closest to me by letting them into some of the darker corners of my mind. I finally finished high school, graduating in the middle of a pandemic, an accomplishment that allowed me to focus on what I want for myself and my future. This past year has been the best and worst year of my life. My struggle with mental illness has also made me much more observant of others. We’re all just moving through this world trying to survive each day. We all have our inner demons, the deepest parts of our minds we’re constantly trying to escape. We’re all wearing masks with painted smiles, hiding our suffering from the people around us. As much as it is difficult and painful, it really is important to let others in. To take off the mask, to stop saying “I’m fine” when it’s nothing but a lie. It’s awfully easy to feel alone in this world full of people, but it doesn’t have to be that way. The more we talk about mental health, the easier it will be to help each other. My journey with mental health hasn’t ended - it’s a constant battle, and some days are better than others. I’m nineteen, and still trying to figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life. I used to think I wouldn’t live to see my twenties, but now I dream. I want to finish college. I want to become a teacher. I want to be there for my students and make my classroom the safe haven I wished I had in high school. High school can be hard - I remember what it felt like to wake up each morning, and the only thing I looked forward to was being able to get back in bed that night. Kids and teenagers need to be taught that it’s okay to struggle, and there is NEVER shame in asking for help. I don’t know if I’ll ever win my own war against anxiety, but I’m proud that I’ve made it this far. I have things to look forward to and people to help by sharing my story.

Though it is arguable that creativity fuels success, society doesn’t treat it that way sometimes, does it? Arts and music programs are often the first to go when school budgets get cut. Students are generally reduced to numbers during the college admissions process - their GPA and test scores. However, in the end, it will be the passionate people with creative minds who won’t take no for an answer that will craft the solutions to all the world’s biggest problems. To me, being an artist means being free. Free to be myself, free to speak my mind, free to exist unapologetically. Creativity takes many different forms, but it’s in all of us. It’s inherent. Every person - however creative they may believe themselves to be - creates a vision of how they perceive the world and what they want their future to look like. By thinking of solutions to life’s struggles, digging paths where there were none before, putting ourselves and our ideas out there for the world to see, and embracing our individual creativity, we push ourselves closer and closer to our own unique success. I’m so inspired by other peoples’ art that it constantly makes me want to continue creating as well. I want to be and do many things in my lifetime, but being an artist is one thing I will never give up. Art gives me a purpose and dares me to push my boundaries. My kind of art is written - words upon words penned on a page or typed in a document. Sometimes it seems like I have an endless amount of words spilling out of the confines of my brian, waiting patiently to be strung together into some coherent message. As someone who has struggled relentlessly with anxiety, sometimes writing is the only way I can make sense of what’s in my head. Art is messy, and that gives me permission to embrace my messiness. Writing is how I cope, and it makes me feel like I’m here for a reason. I have things to say. I write about real things - mental health, race and identity, and the world (its beauty and its darkness). Usually it’s poems, short snippets of thoughts in my mind, and other times it’s fiction, story excerpts that may never be finished. I like my poems best because they are the most “me.” I am in every word - things I care about, things I think about, things I experience. I’m connected to my poetry, and I can only hope that it resonates with those who read it. I’m going to continue writing about relevant topics and sharing my voice, and I hope someday to be published so my words can be released out into the world. My favorite thing about art is that it lasts. Whether it’s the words printed in a book or the strokes of a paintbrush on a canvas, art remains far longer than our bodies do on this earth. I believe poetry and writing can help us explore our feelings, open people up to having hard conversations, and begin to heal and change our world. I’ll do my part by speaking my truth.

I want to teach something worth remembering. Ever since I was young, I’ve known that I wanted to be a teacher. I don’t know if it had something to do with the fact that I grew up as the oldest of five, and my siblings and I used to play pretend school on our lazy summer afternoons. I don’t know if it had something to do with my early exposure to education through the picture books my mom read to me every day until I could read them all myself at age four. I don’t know if it had something to do with my favorite teacher in high school who always told me that the world needed more good teachers - and he believed that could be me. It probably was a combination of all those small, seemingly insignificant moments in my life - but at the end of the day, I knew I was meant to be a teacher. This past spring, I finished my first year at Miami University as an English Language Arts major. I’m part of a faith-based organization on campus that I absolutely love, and I just recently got involved in undergraduate research. My research revolves around education as well, with a focus on implementing a virtual tutoring program that pairs preservice teachers at Miami with foster children in the community. I’m working with one of my professors to evaluate the pilot program we created last year and prepare it for large-scale implementation, so that hopefully, we can serve a greater number of students next fall. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. My research experience has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. I want to continue research and community service endeavors throughout my college experience because I think it’s a great way to further my education beyond the classroom and serve others at the same time. Currently, I’ve also become really passionate about social justice issues (particularly regarding educational equity, but I’m also interested in issues of race, gender, class, and identity). It’s a relatively new interest of mine, but I’ve been considering picking up a second major in social justice studies to complement my education major. I started to learn more about historical roots of inequalities, racial inequalities in particular, in some of my education courses this year. I’ve never felt more passionate and empowered learning something new than I did in those classes, and as a future teacher, many of those topics are extremely relevant to the education system as well. Ultimately, it’s important to me to continue to pursue higher education because I believe my college education and experiences will prepare me to get back into the classroom - this time on the opposite side of the teacher’s desk. My education has given me the ability to see what is possible and what I can do to make a difference in my community and in the world.

Considering the state of the world in the past year, teachers have been asked to do things quite outside their comfort zone and adapt to a world where in-person classes aren't possible in some cases. I've always believed education is important, but recent events have made it increasingly more clear that education is a powerful driving force for change. We have to continue to learn despite our circumstances. Continuing to learn will make our world leaders stronger, will improve race relations and create solutions to social injustice, and will ultimately carve a path towards a brighter future for every person. This excites me, because as a future teacher, I'll get to play a role in helping my students discover what they're passionate about and watch as they accomplish amazing things. Teachers have so much influence in the lives and futures of their students, and I am hopeful that through my chosen career path, I will be able to impact my students as well by supporting and serving them. This past year, I continued my educational journey at Miami University as an Integrated Language Arts Education major. Additionally, I started (and am currently working on) an undergraduate research project with one of my professors. We created and evaluated a pilot program that paired preservice teachers at Miami with foster children for virtual tutoring experiences. Foster children are one of the many populations of youth who often don’t have the resources or support to academically achieve at the same level as their peers. They experience far more school and home instability, emotional and behavioral challenges (often trauma-related), and physical and mental health problems than the average student. All these barriers can significantly hinder their learning and lead to negative life outcomes. The program that I helped start this year provided free tutoring services to 15 foster children in the local community surrounding my college campus (Oxford, OH). This summer, I'm studying the project outcomes and making changes based on interview feedback from the college student tutors, foster children, and parents, preparing the program for large scale implementation. The goal is to reach an even greater number of foster families this fall, and support both future teachers and foster students in their educational pursuits. During this pandemic especially, the deep inequalities that exist within education have been exposed in communities across the world. This could look like differences in technology and internet access, differences in resources for online learning, differences in school staff prepared to meet these unique challenges. No matter what the source, the truth is that not everyone is fortunate enough to have access to education. I believe every child can be successful, and every child deserves the opportunity to learn and grow. Education is valued in our society, yet college is becoming increasingly less affordable and further and further out of reach. We aren’t giving students a fair shot at success - many of them have dozens of hurdles standing in their way. My research experience has taught me a lot about my own privilege in being able to pursue higher education and has made me even more passionate about equity in education. Whether it’s tutoring programs like the one I had a hand in starting this year, or smaller efforts to get each student the unique support they need to be successful, we can make a difference. I have seen firsthand how important it is to make schools more inclusive and bring equity back into education, and I think I can do my part by getting back into the classroom. I have always known that I wanted to teach, and my college education and experiences will give me the tools to give back to my community and make a difference in students’ lives. I want to feel prepared to meet the challenges that come with having and supporting a diverse classroom of students. High school can be a tough time for some, but it can also be the four best years of some kids' lives. High school is where young kids grow up to become young adults. High school is where students begin to figure out who they are and who they want to become. High school is where passions are discovered and the world is explored. I want my classroom to be a safe space where every student feels like they can be themselves and be successful. We can’t stop fighting for equality in schools, and we can’t stop serving our kids because they are the future and our best chance at making the world a better place.

Perched at the end of a table, staring at each of us in turn with a newly opened can of La Croix in hand, he began to ask questions. “What are you trying to accomplish by asking this research question? Who cares about the answer? What are the real-world implications of your findings?” Then, after a moment of reflection, “What is your purpose? Not your "porpoise," like the mammals at SeaWorld, but your purpose,” he said. And with that, the thoughtful silence filling the room was sliced neatly in half as we got sidetracked by a joke we had all heard many times before. Somehow, it was still just as funny that time around because of the look on his face. That’s typical Mr. McKibben. At first glance, my former AP Seminar and AP Research teacher appears to be just another wise, intellectual teacher. Once you get the pleasure of experiencing his class, however, he becomes a teacher known for his cheesy, predictable jokes--and the way he randomly breaks into song in the middle of his teaching. While Mr. McKibben’s classes were without a doubt challenging, they were also rewarding, as Mr. McKibben is the epitome of an exceptional teacher. He not only reinforces his students' growth, he consistently works to further his own education, currently in pursuit of yet another Master’s degree to add to his previous theater, history, literature, and education majors and minors. Even when the expectations were high and the deadlines strict, I never heard a disrespectful word uttered against him. Mr. McKibben had our best interests in mind and was always happy to explain why the paper was due on Friday and not Monday. As a father and an avid reader, Mr. McKibben knows so much about so many diverse topics. Pick one--any one you like--because once you get him talking, he won’t stop until he reaches the end of the track his train of thought races down. Whenever he speaks, he’s mindful, thinking deeply before responding. Studying the ceiling during this brief pause, you can almost see the speech bubble above his head like the ones in comic strips. Even before Mr. McKibben, I loved to read and write, and my dream job was to be a teacher. With Mr. McKibben’s class came hard work, which merely served to reaffirm my goal. I realized that not only do I want to teach, I want to teach English and leave a “McKibben-sized impact” on my students. Junior year of high school, a scheduling conflict was the only reason I landed in Mr. McKibben's AP Seminar class. I didn’t think I would enjoy it, because for some reason, I thought research was boring. Well, boy was I wrong! AP Seminar ended up being my favorite class. Mr. McKibben changed my view on research, English--even the world at times--with the knowledge he shared. He pushed my limits and then encouraged me to take a step further; he taught my class how to think, develop questions, and consider as many perspectives as we could. I wouldn’t have half the research skills I have today without Mr. McKibben, and I DEFINITELY wouldn’t have decided to start my own undergraduate research during my first year in college. I have him to thank for inspiring me to not just pursue higher education, but take advantage of every opportunity to learn, grow, and make a difference. Class with Mr. McKibben was never boring or typical, that’s for sure. I don’t believe it ever will be either, because this is a teacher who has encountered and embraced his true "porpoise" in life.

My mind is like a field of dense, tangled spiderwebs. Horrific and impossible to escape. I’m trapped in my own head, but on the outside, I seem fine. I am fine. I say it over and over until eventually I almost convince myself that it’s true. To my friends, to my family, to everyone around me, “I’m fine.” But I’m not. Not really. I was in eighth grade when I first started struggling with anxiety, and since then, you could say I’ve lived a double life. There’s the version of me that lives inside my head, and then there’s the version of me that the world sees. It got worse in high school. It seemed like everyone around me was fine, and I didn’t understand why my heart would race after answering a simple question in class or I felt like everything was caving in around me when there were changes to my schedule. I lived for consistency, and I thought the more control I had over my life, the less anxiety I would feel. As we all know, there isn’t much we do actually have control over in life, meaning I lived in a constant state of panic about the unknown. I never talked about what I was feeling because, in my head, there was nothing anyone could do to fix me. I pushed away so many of my friends and family members and put up a front. They believed I was happy. I was quietly spiraling. Distraction was the only coping mechanism I knew, so I threw myself into school, extracurriculars, and my job. The busier I was, the less time I had to think. Last year, the pandemic caused all these distractions to come to a screeching halt. I had more time with my thoughts than I ever had before, and my suppressed emotions exploded all at once like a volcanic eruption. I eventually hit rock bottom, and I realized I had been isolating myself far before isolation became a federal mandate. There were days I laid in bed and cried and then turned around and invalidated my own struggles. It didn’t make sense to me - I didn't have a bully, I didn’t have unresolved trauma, I didn’t have a trigger. I just was. I was depressed, anxious, and for what felt like the longest time, ready to die. I wanted out. I wanted the tornado of thoughts to stop, and I so desperately wanted to remember what peace felt like. I couldn’t tell you exactly what changed things because it was a long process, but a lot of it had to do with music. I never used to be into music, but eventually listening to music became my escape. I fell in love with music, and I felt seen by these people who didn’t even know who I was but somehow knew how I felt. I shared my feelings through songs, and that was how I began to painstakingly pull myself out of the hole I’d been digging since eighth grade. It was a long time coming, but I learned so much about myself and the world through my mental health journey this past year. I learned that mental illness doesn’t discriminate - on the outside, it could look like someone has the perfect life, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t terrified they’re going to lose it by their own hand. I learned that I don’t need a trigger or an explanation for the way I feel. I started praying again and grew in my faith. I learned how valuable it is to let people help you and be with you in the midst of pain. I mended relationships with those closest to me by letting them into some of the darker corners of my mind. I finally finished high school, graduating in the middle of a pandemic, an accomplishment that allowed me to focus on what I want for myself and my future. This past year has been the best and worst year of my life. My struggle with mental illness has also made me much more observant of others. We’re all just moving through this world trying to survive each day. We all have our inner demons, the deepest parts of our minds we’re constantly trying to escape. We’re all wearing masks with painted smiles, hiding our suffering from the people around us. As much as it is difficult and painful, it really is important to let others in. To take off the mask, to stop saying “I’m fine” when it’s nothing but a lie. It’s awfully easy to feel alone in this world full of people, but it doesn’t have to be that way. The more we talk about mental health, the easier it will be to help each other. My journey with mental health hasn’t ended - it’s a constant battle, and some days are better than others. I’m nineteen, and still trying to figure out who I am and what I want to do with my life. I used to think I wouldn’t live to see my twenties, but now I dream. I want to finish college. I want to become a teacher. I want to be there for my students and make my classroom the safe haven I wished I had in high school. High school can be hard - I remember what it felt like to wake up each morning, and the only thing I looked forward to was being able to get back in bed that night. Kids and teenagers need to be taught that it’s okay to struggle, and there is NEVER shame in asking for help. I don’t know if I’ll ever win my own war against anxiety, but I’m proud that I’ve made it this far. I have things to look forward to and people to help by sharing my story.