When I watch a child accomplish something they once believed was impossible, I see more than a milestone, I see confidence, independence, and hope. Those moments are why I have dedicated my education and career to serving individuals with special needs and their families. My passion for this work began with my own experience. As a child, I received special education services after struggling with speech. Although those services gave me the tools to succeed academically, I often felt embarrassed and different from my peers. Looking back, I realize that the few teachers who really supported me did much more than help me learn, those teachers believed in my potential before I fully believed in myself. Their patience, encouragement, and unwavering support changed the direction of my life. Today, I have the privilege of working as a behavior technician with children with special needs. Everyday, I see parts of my younger self in the children I support. Whether I am helping a child communicate, teaching a new skill, or celebrating a small victory, I am reminded that meaningful progress is built through trust, consistency, and compassion. Those experiences have inspired me to pursue my masters in Applied Behavior Analysis to embark on a career as a Board Certified Behavior Analyst (BCBA). Over the past two years, I have also faced personal challenges that transformed the way I understand people. Navigating injuries, setbacks, and my own mental health journey taught me that many of the hardest struggles are invisible. I learned that behavior is often a form of communication, and that lasting change begins by understanding the person behind the behavior rather than simply trying to change it. That perspective will shape the kind of BCBA I strive to become. My vision extends beyond working with individual clients. As I continue my education, I hope to combine behavior analysis with Organizational Behavior Management to improve the systems that support children, families, and professionals. By helping schools, clinics, and organizations build healthier cultures and more effective practices, I believe I can create a ripple effect that improves the quality of care for entire communities. The people who inspire me most are the educators and mentors who believed in me when I struggled to believe in myself, as well as the children I work with every day. Their resilience reminds me that success is not measured by how quickly someone reaches a goal, but by the courage to keep trying. They inspire me to become the kind of professional who sees potential where others see limitations. My education is more than a pathway to a career, it is the foundation for the impact I hope to make. I want to help children build confidence, empower families with the tools they need to succeed, and create communities where every individual feels valued, supported, and capable of reaching their full potential. If I can give others the same encouragement and opportunities that were once given to me, I will know I have made a meaningful difference.

Growing up as a boy in a traditional Italian-American household, mental health was never something we talked about. Emotions were seen as something to suppress rather than understand. If I was struggling, I was expected to keep going, work harder, and never let anyone see my pain. That was what it meant to be a man. For most of my life, I believed strength meant handling everything on my own. It wasn't until the past two years that I realized how damaging that mindset truly was. At the time, soccer was my identity. I traveled to New Zealand to study abroad while pursuing a professional soccer trial, an opportunity I had dreamed about my entire life. During my first training session, I broke my foot. One month later, my long-term girlfriend ended our relationship. Within weeks, I had lost the future I had envisioned for myself. Instead of exploring a beautiful country and competing for a professional contract, I spent most of my time recovering from surgery alone in my room. Feeling isolated, heartbroken, and overwhelmed, I turned to alcohol as a way to cope. In New Zealand, binge drinking was deeply embedded in the social culture and, as a college student, alcohol felt like the easiest and least expensive way to numb what I was feeling. Before long, I was binge drinking every day. Although it provided temporary relief, it only delayed the pain I had refused to confront. When I returned to the United States, I transferred schools hoping for a fresh start. Instead, life became even more overwhelming. I was recovering from my injury while trying to earn my place back on the soccer field, adjusting to a new university, dealing with roommates who refused to pay rent, and facing growing financial stress. Although I eventually gave up alcohol to return to college soccer, I realized that removing alcohol did not remove the pain. I had spent so much time pushing my emotions aside that they never truly disappeared. Eventually, my body reached its limit. While out to dinner with my current girlfriend and her family, I unexpectedly collapsed twice. I was rushed to the hospital, where doctors spent several days running tests on my heart. Thankfully, they found no major cardiac condition, but the experience changed my life. Since then, I have struggled with intense anxiety surrounding eating in restaurants and even sitting at tables. Something as simple as eating with friends or attending a work meeting suddenly felt impossible because my mind constantly feared another medical emergency. For the first time, I was forced to confront something I had spent my entire life avoiding: my mental health. I realized that mental health deserves the same attention as physical health. No one would expect me to play soccer on a broken foot, yet I had expected myself to push through anxiety, grief, and overwhelming stress without asking for help. That realization changed my relationships. I became more open with the people I love instead of pretending everything was okay. My current girlfriend has shown me what it means to be supported without judgment, and through conversations with her mother, who works in the mental health field, I began to see mental health as a legitimate injury rather than a personal weakness. Their support challenged everything I had been taught growing up and gave me the courage to start changing my own beliefs. Although I am still healing, I no longer try to do it alone. The anxiety that followed my hospitalization became so overwhelming that I had to step away from the job I loved as a behavior technician working with children with special needs. Having to stop working was heartbreaking because helping children learn, grow, and overcome challenges has always given my life purpose. That experience taught me that I could not continue supporting others while neglecting my own well-being. For the first time in my life, I chose to ask for help. Therapy, mental health professionals, sports psychologists, and mental health coaches have become essential parts of my healing. They have taught me that recovery is not about pretending difficult emotions do not exist, but about understanding them, expressing them, and learning healthy ways to move forward. Talking openly with my girlfriend has become one of the healthiest outlets I have ever had, which I never imagined I would be comfortable doing. Growing up, I never saw men talk openly about anxiety, therapy, or emotional wellness. Breaking that cycle has become one of the most important accomplishments of my life. These experiences have completely reshaped my goals and my understanding of the world. As I continue pursuing a career as a Board Certified Behavior Analyst, I want to be someone who recognizes that every behavior has a story. My own struggles have taught me that invisible battles are often the hardest to see, and that empathy can be just as powerful as any intervention. I hope to create environments where children and families feel safe asking for help and never feel ashamed for doing so. Today, I believe strength is not measured by how much pain we can hide but by our willingness to be vulnerable, accept support, and keep moving forward. Although I am still on my healing journey, I am proud of the progress I have made. My experiences have transformed the way I view mental health, my relationships, and the professional I hope to become. More importantly, they have taught me that seeking help is not a sign of weakness, it is one of the bravest decisions a person can make. That lesson will stay with me for the rest of my life, and I hope to pass it on to every individual and family I have the privilege of serving.

Brendan stood in front of six orange cones, a soccer ball at his feet as he urged on, going in and out swiftly without skipping a beat. He looked back at me, proudly, and gave me a thumbs-up when he was done. Although this may seem like an easy task for most people, Brendan is a person with special needs. I couldn’t help but flash back to my younger self while celebrating his accomplishment. I had been in the special education program for as long as I can remember. After having difficulty with speech when I was five, it always occurred as a norm to me. That was until I got into middle school and high school. I was constantly hiding my face from my peers in the hallway when entering my special education classes. These classes always made school a bit more difficult for me. I felt alienated from the rest of the grade. As if I lived a whole separate life inside the same school. After many years of hiding and rushing to classes so that nobody would see me walk into them, It was over. I completed the special education program at Manhasset High School. I felt free from all the stares, free from all the anxiety of being seen walking into a special education classroom, free from being separated from the rest of my grade. Most importantly, I had accomplished my goal of gaining enough tools to no longer need the additional support offered to me by the special education program. This sudden flip of a switch to where I was able to move forward was in my junior year. Junior year, conversations about our future plans and endeavors became a more regular occurrence. It was finally time to seriously think about how I wanted to spend my future. Given my love of working with children, I began to think more seriously about pursuing education as a college major. With this in mind, I began babysitting for several families in the neighborhood, which solidified my passion for teaching. Shortly thereafter, I began helping out at camps over the summer for community service, which led to me having many different opportunities at other camps to help kids with varying needs and abilities. Coming from similar beginnings, giving back by helping those who are struggling in the special education system, will allow me to be the type of teacher who makes a difference. Having a teacher in mind, Mr. Ryan Gray, a special education teacher, would actively take the time to make sure students are engaged and understanding the subject. I consciously took note of how effective of an educator he was to the students around him. Mr. Ryan Gray solidified my desire and purpose to become a teacher. I want to be an advocate and a helping hand to students who struggle. As an educator, I want to make it a mission to grant opportunities to students with special needs, while providing them with an immense amount of accommodation, modifications, and support to secure inclusivity within their education. I am extremely passionate about becoming a special education teacher because it defines who I am. I want to help support students with intellectual disabilities in and outside the classroom to make sure that they can transition into a higher education or any workplace that they desire. After being mentored by brilliant educators who work with students with special needs, pursuing a career as a special education teacher is second nature for me. I want to be like Mr. Ryan Gray, I want to teach students with special needs.

What I love about being a special educator is that every child learns differently. There is no one way of doing things. My work in educating low-incidence children revolves around making them feel heard and seen. While it is always difficult to communicate with children in general, low-incidence children especially need to be communicated with. Each child needs to be met in the middle, the middle is not necessarily always split fifty/fifty however as an educator you learn to make that work.  After spending time in the classroom in multiple school districts, I learned that low-incidence children are extremely unique and as an educator, you have to bring those unique characteristics to light. It is important to note that any child, let alone a child with an intellectual disability should be taught authentically and not by a book. I learned through fieldwork experiences that the teachers who were vibrant and their authentic selves were able to connect best with the children in the classroom. Taking this into account, I realized how much of an impact I could make as a student sitting in the classroom. I then was switched to another room and noticed a student named Leopold, who was non-verbal. It was clear that the personal aide he was paired with did not communicate with him. It was extremely upsetting for me as an advocate to see a child not be seen or heard, regardless of his ability. I took it upon myself to communicate with Leopold every time I entered and left the classroom. At first, he visibly wasn't used to being communicated with in a private setting. As time went on he continuously became more expressive in what he was doing while he was doing it. When I came back from school break, he visibly showed how happy he was to see me. It made my day, week, month, and year.  After the school year was done, I began sitting in and volunteering at A Step Up Academy. This school's mission is to provide and meet each student with their individual needs to help them develop and embark on life in and out of school. While it was great to meet one student with a low-incidence disability, I think it is important to note how different every child is regardless of them having the same disability. One quote my professors love to mention in class is "If you've met one person with autism, you've met one person with autism"(Dr. Stephen Shore). I couldn't agree more, Each student was different. Regardless of having similar disabilities, that didn't make it the same work. I had to start from scratch and communicate with these children to try and draw a connection. As I mentioned earlier, this creation of a special connection undoubtedly helped me continue in my new field. Each challenge presents its hardships; being hit, and having rocks and chairs thrown at me, was indubitably a new challenge to overcome. Through my short time of sitting in, I learned how special these connections were. I learned how to speak to each child when they are having a tantrum or experiencing any hardship. Being a teacher for low-incidence children most definitely keeps you on your toes and it is rewarding. When I see the lightbulb that turns on in the mind of a child, I instantly feel rewarded. Being a teacher is not easy, taking the extra step and going above and beyond to make sure the child is being attended to, is what it's all about. This is how I will benefit low-incidence children now and in the future.

Brendan stood in front of six orange cones, a soccer ball at his feet as he urged on, going in and out swiftly without skipping a beat. He looked back at me, proudly, and gave me a thumbs-up when he was done. Although this may seem like an easy task for most people, Brendan is a person with special needs. I couldn’t help but flash back to my younger self while celebrating his accomplishment.    I've been in the special education program for as long as I can remember. After having difficulty with speech when I was five, it always occurred as a norm to me. That was until I got into middle school and high school. I was constantly hiding my face from my peers in the hallway when entering my special education classes. These classes always made school a bit more difficult for me. I felt alienated from the rest of the grade. As if I lived a whole separate life inside the same school. After many years of hiding and rushing to classes so that nobody would see me walk into them, It was over. I completed the special education program at Manhasset High School. I felt free from all the stares, free from all the anxiety of being seen walking into a special education classroom, free from being separated from the rest of my grade. Most importantly, I had accomplished my goal of gaining enough tools to no longer need the additional support offered to me by the special education program. For some students, there is a point where they develop great learning habits and then they are allowed to roam without any additional support. Without a helping hand, I fully gathered enough guidance to where I could independently grow and move forward.  This sudden flip of a switch to where I was able to move forward was in my junior year. Junior year, conversations about our future plans and endeavors became a more regular occurrence. It was finally time to seriously think about how I wanted to spend my future. Given my love of working with children, I began to think more seriously about pursuing education as a college major. With this in mind, I began babysitting for several families in the neighborhood, which solidified my passion for teaching and coaching. Shortly thereafter, I began helping out at camps over the summer for community service, which led to me having many different opportunities at other camps to help kids with varying needs and abilities. Coming from similar beginnings, giving back by helping those who are struggling in the special education system, will allow me to be the type of teacher who makes a difference. Having a teacher in mind, Mr. Ryan Gray, a special education teacher would actively take the time to make sure students are engaged and understanding the subject. I never had a class where he taught me, I consciously took note of how effective of an educator he was to the students around him. Mr. Ryan Gray solidified my desire and purpose to become a teacher. I want to be an advocate and helping hand to students who struggle. As an educator, I want to make it a mission to grant opportunities to students with special needs while providing them with an immense amount of accommodation, modifications, and support to secure inclusivity within their education. Ever since I got out of Special Education I have been working in it. In 11th grade, I began volunteering at an after-school program for students with special needs. Since Manhasset Adaptive Soccer is open to students with various needs and disabilities, I became acclimated to special education through extracurricular activities. This is where I learned firsthand how a special bond between a teacher and a child could impact a student with intellectual disabilities.  From my experience, while embarking on college, I found great mentors in the education program. My professor and guidance counselor Dr. Kim Dean introduced me to A Step Up Academy. A Step Up Academy is a school that serves as an appropriate program to meet the needs of the child. Now, as an employee who works the Extended School Year program for A Step Up Academy, I know I want to work in the field of Special Education. I am extremely passionate about becoming a special education teacher because it defines who I am. I want to help support students with intellectual disabilities inside and outside the classroom to make sure that they can transition into any higher education or workplace that they desire. After being mentored by brilliant educators who work with students with special needs, pursuing a career as a special education teacher is second nature for me.  From what I deciphered from the statement, each student needs to find their place in the world. Regardless of ability or disability, every person needs to find their purpose and feel like they are a part of something. While this is the case, not every student is the same. Students feel at their own presence at different points in their lives. One quote I love to mention is "If you've met one person with autism, you've met one person with autism"(Dr. Stephen Shore). While every student is different and needs to be guided differently, it is important to note that creating a special connection with every child is a great start to help them find their role and place. As a future educator who harps on personal connection through literacy activities. Regardless of the ability of the child, I will do anything possible to make sure the child feels seen and heard. One thing that comes to mind is the use of The Picture Exchange Communication System (PECS), this piece of technology I make great use of at work. It allows students who are nonverbal to express their thoughts and feelings through an expressive communication system with pictures and sometimes audio. With this being said, as a future special education teacher it is my mission to provide students with the feeling of being heard and seen in and outside of their classroom. As my mentors once did to me, I want to contribute in providing these concepts to the future students in my classroom to make education systems more inclusive and expressive to help advocate for students of all abilities and disabilities.