My experience with mental health started when I was 10 years old. My father had suddenly passed away from cancer, although I thought that he was in remission and had beat the cancer for good. After losing my father, I struggled to grieve him in what I thought was the "correct way". There were days where I grieved him more, and days where I did not grieve him at all. Fast forward to middle school, when I was about 13, I started to severely struggle with my mental health. I was chunkier than most of my friends, which led to severe bullying from not only my peers but also my mother and step-father. Because I was "overweight" for my age, my parents constantly reminded me that I needed to watch what I ate and exercise. This led to me falling into a deep depressive episode, and caused me to have body image struggles. Within this depressive episode, I became extremely suicidal. I conveyed these feelings and thoughts of ending my life with one of my best friends, who then reached out to the school guidance counselor because she was worried about me. The counselor searched my arms and legs for cut marks, then made me call my mother. After calling my mother and explaining to her how I was feeling, she grounded me for about a year. I was not allowed to hangout with my friends and had no cell phone. Becoming isolated from everyone, and everything, that gave me joy pushed me further into what I call the "depression hole". These actions from my mother made me want to take my life more than I already wanted to. Thankfully, I was still able to see my friends at school and talk with them. Between the select group of friends that I had, and some select teachers that I confided in, I was able to pull myself out of the depressive hole that I was in. Now, as a junior in college who still struggles with depressive episodes, I have received the help and treatment that I once begged my mother for. I am on antidepressant medication, and meet with a licensed counselor once a week. During the summer before my junior year of college, my best friend committed suicide. No one knew that he was suicidal, and no one would have ever known. He was one of the happiest people I had ever met in my entire life. With this, and my personal experiences with mental health, my belief has changed entirely. I had always thought that the people who struggled most with their mental health were the ones who you could tell were sad or distraught. But in all reality, that is not always the case. These experiences also affected my relationships because I now know that it is vital to check in on those you love, and even those you may not necessarily like, because you may be the one to save their life. As I pursue my education in Early Childhood Education, I will take my experiences with me into my career as a teacher. I will know to always check in on each student, even those who seem happy all the time. I also know to talk openly about mental health with my students, so that they can see the warning signs, if there are any, in their peers if the adults are not able to see them. All it takes is a phone call, text message, or even a simple "Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I love you", to save someone's life.

I have overcome many challenges in not only my 20 years of life but also my 15 years of education. When I was in the fourth grade, my father unexpectedly passed away from cancer. As a child, it felt like someone had taken all the breath out of my lungs. I took a week off of school, then was right back at it as if nothing had happened. Returning to school gave me a sense of normalcy during a time when everything in my life felt uncertain and overwhelming. School provided structure and consistency when my world felt chaotic, and being back in a routine helped me regain a small sense of control. Even though I was struggling internally, having a schedule, assignments, and goals helped me stay grounded and gave me something steady to rely on each day. As a result of my father passing away and numerous other factors, I have struggled with my mental health. Starting in seventh grade, I became severely depressed and suicidal. I would wake up every day wishing I hadn't. This is the largest challenge that I still face to this day. For seven years straight there were moments where I had convinced myself that the world would be better off without me in it. Despite this, I continued to attend school and complete my work, even on the days when simply getting out of bed felt impossible. There were many moments of exhaustion, lack of motivation, and burnout, yet I still pushed myself to maintain strong grades and meet expectations. At times, school was one of the only places that still gave me structure and consistency when everything else felt unstable. I learned how to advocate for myself by seeking help when needed, whether that meant asking for extensions, reaching out for support, or utilizing counseling resources. Managing both my grief and my mental health while continuing to progress academically was not easy, but it shaped my resilience in ways that continue to carry me forward. Then, I was diagnosed with general anxiety disorder, major depressive disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder at 16 years old, which was almost like a culture shock for me. I knew that I had problems regarding my mental health, but I did not realize how serious they were. Over time, I learned that not all struggles are visible in the classroom, and I began to understand the importance of recognizing warning signs in both myself and others. At 20 years old, I finally took charge of my mental health by seeing a counselor once a week and being put on medication for the anxiety and depression. Some would see these things as "simple," but only those who have gone through similar mental illnesses that I have know how draining and hard it can be to even get out of bed, let alone take medication and talk to a counselor. Although I have had many challenges throughout my life, such as my father passing away and my mental health struggles, there has always been one constant: education. My education has always been something that is important to me and that I pride myself on. During times when other parts of my life felt unstable, academic success gave me something to hold onto and work toward. The routines, assignments, and goals within school gave me a sense of direction and purpose when I felt lost, and having those expectations helped me stay grounded. I was able to push myself through high school, graduated third in my class, and am now graduating college a full year early. Managing my grief and mental health while continuing to progress academically was not easy, but it strengthened my resilience and determination. Ultimately, my experiences have shaped not only who I am, but also the direction I am determined to take in life. The challenges I have faced—grief, anxiety, and depression—have tested my strength, but they have also given me a deeper sense of empathy and purpose. Because of what I have experienced, I know I will be able to connect with students who feel unseen or unsupported and recognize that their struggles are not always visible. I want to be the kind of adult I needed when I was younger: someone who notices, listens, and truly cares. Education has been my constant, providing me with stability when everything else felt uncertain and guiding me toward a future where I can make a meaningful difference. As I continue my journey, I hope to use both my personal experiences and my education to support students not only academically, but emotionally as well. I want to create a safe, understanding, and encouraging environment where every child feels seen and valued. By becoming a teacher, and school counselor in the future, I aim to help students succeed in school while also giving them the tools and support they need to navigate life’s challenges. In doing so, I hope to create a better future not only for myself, but for every student whose life I have the opportunity to impact.

At a mere 10 years old, my father passed away from cancer. This was one of the most devastating losses I had ever experienced at my young age. My father was my best friend and one of the biggest supporters I had. I lost a part of myself when I lost him. After my father passed away, my mother quickly turned to alcohol as her coping mechanism. She was not home a lot due to her working during the week, and being at the bar on the weekends. This caused a wedge to be driven in our relationship. I no longer had someone that I could turn to and confide in. Fast forward to middle school. I started struggling with my mental health, which was a taboo topic with my mother. After I tried numerous times to tell her that I needed help, and was met "there is nothing wrong with you", I gave up trying to confide in her with anything. Then in high school, when I wanted to join the National Honors Society and go to college, there was not an ounce of support from her. As I graduated and moved to college, my mother and I went almost no contact for the simple reason being that I did not feel any support from her, so why would I continue to reach out? After all, I was paying for college strictly out of pocket by myself. Then, when I came to college, I was extremely lonely and felt like I had no support system. I went through 16 weeks of wanting to quit college altogether because of this. However, during the spring semester of my freshman year, I met with my academic advisor, Lisa Trigg, for the first time. After talking with her for the brief 15 minute meeting we had, I knew there was something different about her. She was positive, kind, and caring, yet also there was something about her that I would not realize until much later. She believed in me. Lisa quickly became one of my biggest supporters throughout my college journey. She has pushed me harder than anyone has before, and even harder than I push myself. Having her as my number one supporter has truly made a world of a difference in my journey. Lisa has helped shape me in the woman that I am today. As someone whose mother has never supported her and has needed someone in that role, Lisa stepped in right away and filled that gap when she did not have to. She became a shoulder that I can cry on, a mentor, and someone who I look up to in more ways than one. She has become a role model for me, not only as an educator, but also a person. She is hardworking, kind, and considerate to everyone she crosses paths with. As I strive toward my dream of becoming a school counselor, I will always have Lisa in the back of my mind. There were many times where I cried to her saying "I can't do this anymore" and " I just want to drop out", but she would not let me. She let me cry and wiped my tears, but she never let me give up on myself and my dreams. Lisa has sat with me and helped me figure out semester schedules, graduation plans, and even life plans. I strive to be the educator, and school counselor, that never lets students give up on themselves like I once wanted to. I strive every day to be just like my biggest supporter, Lisa Trigg.

My name is Felicity Mathers and I am currently a junior Early Childhood Education major at Muskingum University in New Concord, Ohio. I am the second youngest of five girls, have two dogs, and an aunt to three beautiful little girls. At Muskingum, I am involved in Greek life as a sister of F.A.D, or Pi Phi Gamma. Outside of college, I am a tutor for elementary students and a server at Cracker Barrel. Ever since I was a child, I have always known that I wanted to be a teacher. However, when I started high school, was struggling with my mental health, and started seeing my school counselor at the time, I realized how much I aspired to be like her. The path I want to take is graduate with my Elementary Education bachelors degree and teach while working on my Masters in School Counseling. These two careers will help me reach my lifelong goal of making a difference in students lives. Throughout my time at Muskingum, I have had 2 years of experience in the classroom setting, and have been able to learn tremendous things about students and education as a whole. Not only have I been able to work with students in whole group, small group, and one-on-one settings, but I have been able to have personal conversations with them about different things that are going on in their minds. Having the students feel comfortable enough with me, even after only knowing me for 3 weeks, to tell me what is going on in their lives is such an incredible feeling. I plan on being successful, both in the classroom and in the counselor setting, by making a difference in every students life. Knowing that when students come into my classroom and feel safe, comforted, loved, and important is a huge goal of mine. When I can confidently say that, I know that I have been successful in my classroom. Education focuses so much on the data of the students, that their mental health and personal well-being get lost, or forgotten about. While I will focus on the data of each student to help them academically, I will also try every day to remember that they are also people and their mental health and well-being are vital. In the counseling aspect, I will work each and everyday to be the biggest advocate that I can be for every student. Not only academically, but also with their mental, physical, and emotional health.

I am dedicated to empowering women because I know what it feels like to be unheard, underestimated, and made to feel powerless. As a young woman navigating both personal challenges and the path to becoming a first-generation college graduate, I’ve come to understand how crucial it is for women to feel supported, valued, and capable of achieving anything they set their minds to. I believe that every woman—regardless of background or circumstance—deserves equal access to opportunities, safety, and a future defined by her own choices. My personal experiences have made this mission deeply personal. I’ve witnessed and experienced moments where women’s voices were silenced, boundaries were ignored, and their strength underestimated. These experiences didn’t break me; they made me more committed to standing up for others. Empowering women starts with education—educating girls to know their worth, educating boys to respect boundaries, and educating communities to challenge harmful stereotypes. I believe that true empowerment means helping women discover their own voices, and then supporting them as they use those voices to lead and uplift others. That’s why I chose to pursue a degree in elementary education. I believe that the earlier we teach values like equality, empathy, and self-respect, the stronger the foundation we build for future generations. In my classroom, I plan to foster an inclusive environment where all students feel seen and heard—especially young girls, who may already be facing societal pressures or internal doubts. I want them to know that they are strong, smart, and deserving of success. My teaching will go beyond academic subjects; I will help build confidence, emotional awareness, and leadership skills that students can carry with them for life. My career goals extend beyond the classroom. In the long term, I hope to work in educational leadership or community-based programs focused on supporting girls and young women. Whether that means mentoring students, creating safe after-school spaces, or partnering with organizations that address gender-based violence and inequality, I want to be an advocate for change. I also plan to use my voice and story to speak out against the issues that affect women—especially those that are too often kept in silence. I know that making a difference doesn’t always require grand gestures. It can be as simple as listening, offering encouragement, or showing a student that someone truly believes in them. My goal is to empower young women and girls to stand tall in who they are, pursue their dreams without fear, and lift others as they rise. Being part of a movement that empowers women isn’t just a cause I support—it’s a calling I live every day. Through education, mentorship, and advocacy, I plan to be a voice for change and a source of strength for those who need it most.

Being the first in my family to obtain a college degree means more than just a personal milestone—it’s a symbol of resilience, growth, and hope. It represents the realization of dreams not only for myself, but for my entire family. My parents, especially my late father, always encouraged me to aim high, even when the path seemed uncertain. After his passing when I was just ten years old, the dream of going to college felt like it was slipping away. But over time, I turned that pain into purpose. Becoming the first in my family to graduate would be a way to honor his belief in me and to show future generations that obstacles can be overcome through determination, support, and self-belief. In college, I am pursuing a degree in elementary education because I have always had a deep passion for working with children. From a young age, I knew I wanted to become a teacher. Being in the classroom—whether assisting students with assignments or simply listening to their stories—feels natural to me. One powerful moment that confirmed my calling was when I helped a first-grade student who had transferred in after being homeschooled. She was quiet and unsure, often falling behind in classwork. I worked with her one-on-one, celebrated her progress, and taught her in ways that made the material easier to understand. As her confidence grew, so did her friendships and classroom participation. That transformation reminded me of the kind of impact a teacher can have—and reinforced my desire to create a positive, empowering learning environment for children. As a future teacher, I want to do more than teach reading, writing, and math. I want to be a mentor, a role model, and a safe, steady presence in my students’ lives. My long-term goal is to build a classroom where every child feels seen, supported, and capable of success. I believe early education lays the foundation for a child’s future, and I am committed to helping students develop not only academically, but also emotionally and socially. I also hope to pursue additional training in trauma-informed practices and inclusive teaching so I can better support students from all backgrounds and abilities. To me, earning a college degree is about much more than a diploma. It’s about becoming the person I needed when I was younger, and being the change I want to see in classrooms, communities, and the lives of the children I will one day teach.

Education is one of the most powerful tools we have to reduce intimate partner violence (IPV). Through education, we can teach children and young adults about consent, boundaries, emotional regulation, and respectful communication—skills that are often overlooked but critical to forming healthy relationships. By introducing these lessons early and reinforcing them throughout adolescence, we can help prevent the normalization of abusive behaviors and empower young people to protect themselves and others. From a young age, I was taught a clear and powerful truth: No means no. Not "yes," not "maybe," not "I'm not sure"—it simply means no. I believed in that, and I still do. Unfortunately, my ex-boyfriend did not. No matter how many times I said “no” or “stop,” he would not listen. He ignored my words and continued doing what he wanted to do, violating my boundaries and making me feel powerless in my own body. It was an experience that changed me deeply, and one I carried in silence for a long time. But over time, I realized that silence only protects abusers—not survivors. Speaking out and educating others is how we begin to break that cycle. This is why I believe education is so essential in preventing intimate partner violence. If more people were taught from a young age what consent truly means—and more importantly, how to respect it—we would see fewer stories like mine. Education can challenge the harmful mindsets that fuel IPV and replace them with empathy, respect, and emotional accountability. It can teach boys and girls alike that their bodies are their own, that “no” is a complete sentence, and that love never ignores boundaries. With my degree in elementary education, I plan to use my platform to begin these conversations in age-appropriate ways. I want to create a classroom where emotional intelligence is just as important as academic learning—where students learn how to express themselves, respect others, and understand consent at a foundational level. While I won’t be teaching about IPV directly, I believe social-emotional learning in early education is a vital first step toward building a safer future. My experiences—both painful and empowering—have shaped my passion for helping others. Beyond the classroom, I want to work with community organizations that support children and survivors of trauma. I want to be the adult I needed when I felt voiceless—someone who listens, believes, and empowers. Education alone may not erase intimate partner violence, but it can prevent it, reduce it, and help survivors heal. I am living proof that resilience is possible, and I plan to use both my degree and my story to bring change—one student, one classroom, and one conversation at a time.

In my personal and academic life, I have shown positivity and resilience from a young age. My journey with resilience began when I lost my father at the age of ten. He was my biggest supporter and always encouraged my dream of becoming a teacher. After he passed away, I felt like I would never be able to go to college or chase my dreams. However, I chose to use his passing as motivation. I kept his belief in me at the heart of everything I pursued, especially my passion for education and helping others. More recently, I faced another emotional challenge when my long-term boyfriend and I broke up during the spring semester. It was a devastating and unexpected experience that left me feeling unmotivated and emotionally drained. For a time, I questioned whether I could continue with college. However, I realized I had already come too far and still held tightly to my goal of becoming an elementary school teacher. After about a week of grieving and falling behind, I decided to get back on track. I leaned into my routines, caught up on my assignments, and focused on the future I had always dreamed of. It was a reminder that resilience isn’t about never falling—it's about choosing to get back up. One of the qualities I am most known for by friends, family, and peers is my positivity. No matter the situation, I try to maintain an optimistic outlook and focus on what can be learned or gained, even in tough times. Because of this, people often turn to me when they are struggling or need encouragement. Whether it’s a classmate overwhelmed with schoolwork or a friend going through something personal, I do my best to offer hope, support, and a reminder that things can and will get better. Being a positive influence on others is something I take pride in, and I believe it’s a trait that will help me greatly in my future career as a teacher. In the classrooms I have been a part of, children are naturally drawn to me because of my positive attitude. Whether they need extra help with their work or simply want to tell me a story, they know they can come to me for support and encouragement. One moment that stands out happened in a first-grade classroom I worked in recently. A new student had joined the class after being homeschooled for kindergarten. She was quiet, withdrawn, and struggling to keep up with the lessons, unsure of what was going on around her. I began working with her one-on-one, gently guiding her through the material and celebrating her small successes. I found creative ways to help her understand addition, subtraction, and counting that made sense to her, and I praised her efforts every step of the way. Over time, I watched her confidence grow. She began raising her hand to answer questions, making friends, and smiling more often. That experience showed me the true power of encouragement and made me realize, without a doubt, that I had a calling to become a teacher. My vision for helping young children thrive is rooted in creating a classroom where every child feels seen, supported, and capable of success. Through my education and future career as an elementary school teacher, I want to build an environment that fosters curiosity, confidence, and a love for learning. I believe that children learn best when they feel safe and encouraged, so I aim to use positive reinforcement, individualized instruction, and hands-on activities to reach every learner. I am especially passionate about supporting students who face challenges—whether academic, social, or emotional—just as I’ve faced my own. I want to be the kind of teacher who not only teaches lessons but changes lives by showing children that they are valued, smart, and full of potential. Throughout my life, I’ve participated in several community activities that reflect my commitment to helping others. One of the most meaningful has been the annual Thanksgiving food drive at my local church. Each year, we distribute grocery bags with instructions to nearby homes, asking for non-perishable food donations. After the bags are collected, we sort and repack the items and deliver them to families in need. It’s a simple act of kindness, but one that brings comfort and dignity to others during the holidays. Helping others directly has deepened my desire to serve and shown me that even small acts can make a big difference.

Mental health is often treated as a hushed subject—especially in families shaped by older generations who see mental illness as weakness or laziness. This silence leaves many children and young adults struggling in isolation, without the words or support to name what they are going through. I know this experience all too well. I’ve battled mental health challenges since I was 12 years old. In my household, mental health was not discussed—it was almost as if it didn’t exist. The emotions I was experiencing were overwhelming, but instead of being met with understanding, I was met with judgment. When I fell into depressive episodes, simply getting out of bed took every ounce of energy I had. But instead of seeing that as a sign of struggle, my parents interpreted it as laziness. When I tried to explain my feelings, I was dismissed or told I was making excuses. It wasn’t until I was nearly 16 that I found the courage to ask my mother to take me to a therapist. That first session changed my life. I was finally diagnosed with anxiety and depression—labels that didn’t define me, but finally gave me clarity and validation for everything I had been feeling. But even with a clinical diagnosis, my mother still didn’t accept it. She continued to believe that I was lazy, unwilling to do my chores, or looking for attention. This lack of understanding from those closest to me made my journey even harder—but it also shaped me in ways I am now grateful for. It taught me how dangerous silence and stigma can be. It showed me how many people are hurting in ways that are invisible to the world. And most importantly, it ignited a passion in me to become someone who listens, supports, and advocates for mental health awareness—especially for young people who feel unheard, like I once did. That rejection hurt but pushed me to look outside my immediate circle for understanding. Over time, I began forming relationships with people who had gone through similar struggles. Whether it was a friend who opened up about their panic attacks or a mentor who took mental health seriously, these connections helped me feel seen. My journey helped me build healthy relationships with others who not only understood the importance of mental health—but who truly heard me when I spoke about my experience. These people became part of my support system, and their empathy helped me begin healing in ways I didn’t think were possible. These relationships also taught me the value of being a safe space for someone else. I’ve become someone my friends can turn to without fear of judgment. I listen differently now—more patiently, more openly—because I know how much that can mean when you’re struggling. These experiences have shaped how I want to live and what I want to do with my life. This lack of understanding from those closest to me made my journey even harder—but it also shaped me in ways I am now grateful for. It taught me how dangerous silence and stigma can be. It showed me how many people are hurting in ways that are invisible to the world. And most importantly, it ignited a passion in me to become someone who listens, supports, and advocates for mental health awareness—especially for young people who feel unheard, like I once did. Today, I’m committed to using my experience not as a weight, but as a foundation for the future I want to build. I plan to pursue a career in education, where I can support and advocate for students who are struggling. I want to help create a world where mental health is not a forbidden subject, but a conversation that is welcomed with empathy, openness, and action. I also want others to understand that poor mental health is not just something adults face—children experience it too. As an educator, I want to be the kind of person I needed when I was younger: someone who sees the signs, listens without judgment, and believes a student when they say they’re not okay. I want to create a classroom and school environment where students feel safe, supported, and never alone in their struggles..

I have known that I wanted to be a teacher since I was in early elementary school. The teachers I had during those years were often positive, uplifting, caring, and kind. However, I also had teachers who weren’t as kind or supportive, and it was those experiences that helped be decide to become a teacher. I want to be the kind of teacher who gives students the kindness and compassion that I wasn't always given in school. When my father passed away during my elementary years, my teachers became an essential part of my support system. They kept their doors open to me, always ready to listen if I needed someone to talk to. They were patient and understanding when I missed school, struggled to complete assignments, or had difficulty focusing in class. Rather than dismissing my grief or becoming frustrated, they showed empathy and care. They helped me catch up on my work without judgment, and when I was absent, they asked if I was okay—not just why I had missed class. Most of all, they made sure I knew I wasn’t alone. These moments left a lasting impact on me and shaped the kind of educator I aspire to become. I want to be a teacher who recognizes that students bring their whole lives into the classroom—joys, struggles, and everything in between. I want to create a classroom environment where all children feel safe, valued, and understood—especially when life outside of school feels overwhelming. I am just one of many students who have experienced the loss of a parent, and I believe my experience will help me relate to and support students facing similar challenges. My goal is to provide them with the same understanding, compassion, and encouragement that meant so much to me. I want to be someone they can turn to, someone who listens, and someone who helps them through, just as my teachers did for me. Losing my father was one of the most difficult experiences of my life, but it has become a driving force behind my motivation to pursue a career in teaching. His love and unwavering support continue to inspire me every day, reminding me not to give up and to keep working toward this goal. I want to make him proud by doing what I love: helping children grow, learn, and feel supported, no matter what they’re going through. Teaching is not just a career for me—it’s a calling, a purpose, and a way to honor both my father’s memory and the incredible teachers who helped me through one of the hardest times in my life.

My father was one of the most important people in my life. He had an incredible ability to make people laugh, often with just a single word or a silly gesture. His sense of humor was contagious, and no matter how tough life got, he could always find a way to make us smile. Despite working two jobs, he always made time for his family. He taught my sister and me how to play softball, ride bikes, and always helped us with our math homework since our mother wasn’t the best at math. He always showed up to our school and sporting events, until he was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma in 2015. At that time, I was 9 years old, and my sister was 7. Once he started his treatments, he would still try to attend events but often had to miss them because of doctor's appointments or treatments. In March of 2016, my dad passed away from cancer. The loss of him shifted my world, especially since I was only 10 years old. The grief that came with his passing was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I had to learn how to navigate life without him by my side, and doing so felt impossible at times. Going through important events without him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. School dances, being inducted into the National Honor Society in high school, graduating high school and attending college—making these big decisions and doing these things without him was extremely hard. Even in his absence, my dad’s influence never left me. His lessons, his encouragement, his belief in me—they continue to shape every decision I make. Everything I’ve done since his passing, I’ve done with him in mind. I know that if he were still here, he would be proud of everything I’ve accomplished. His love and support continue to fuel my determination to succeed and honor his memory in everything I do. Grief is like a rollercoaster, a constant mix of highs and lows, especially when you're trying to process it at such a young age. There are days when I feel like I’m okay, and then there are days when it feels like it all comes crashing down. Through it all, I carry the memory of my dad with me. And I know that as I continue to grow, accomplish new things, and face the challenges life throws my way, I am doing it for him, in honor of the amazing father he was.