Although I am at the ripe age of 22, I have taken a ride on life's rollercoaster that falls off the track, is wobbly and bumpy, and one where you never quite know when you'll finally be able to get off. My rollercoaster ride began the day I was born, having a parent that was an abusive alcoholic was not a ticket I would have chosen for myself. My childhood was sporadic and scary, never quite knowing if we'd be having dinner that night or we'd be kicked out of the house at 4 am on a school night. It was difficult, but I had my awesome mom and siblings to get each other through the hell we found ourselves in. Fast forward to freshman year of high school (ugh), at 14 years old I was told my mother had a stroke after dropping us off at school that morning. Not really understanding what implications that would have on the rest of my life, we visited her at the hospital for her 4 month-long stay and another 2 months at a rehab facility. In the midst of high school, dealing with an addict, and losing my mom, something changed in me. I had never been a good student, I didn't have a job and I didn't think twice about bills or money. My mom, the breadwinner of the family, was now completely paralyzed on her left side and lost her career as a hairdresser, all her friends, her independence, and the life she had tried to create for herself and us. She was unable to take me prom dress shopping, run errands with me, go for walks, and essentially every single she dreamed of vanished that morning her brain bled. Life's rollercoaster had thrown me off going 150 mph. I didn't have parents anymore, my dad's drinking got worse, he lost all motivation to work and provide for her, he had given up on life and let all of his children take the beating for it. Even though we had all just lost the most important person in our lives, instead of stepping up and getting his act together, my father decided to make all of us suffer even more so than we already had. This is when the sink or swim instinct came in, and it was time to show my mom, my role model, that her having a stroke and dealing with my father wasn't going to hold me back from achieving greatness. It was like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I found myself getting high honors for the rest of my semesters in high school. I joined soccer, cheerleading, and softball and became a caption. I won writing contest after writing contest for my school's yearly competition, and this was only the beginning. I knew I had to go to college. I wasn't sure how or where, but I knew that's where I needed to be. I began spending hours a day with the guidance office, having them be my mentors for applying for scholarships and paying for application fees. I was the first person in my family to try and go to college, so these counselors were the only help I had. Alas, I got accepted to UNH and won enough scholarships from my town to afford the first semester. My mom cried in the audience while they called my name for scholarship after scholarship, as she knew my dream was going to be a possibility. Fast forward, I have worked 2-3 jobs a semester to pay for tuition and I am now a senior approaching a dual degree in psychology and justice studies, and when I finish I'm heading to law school. The rollercoaster finally let me off, as I've achieved more than I ever thought possible. My mom is sad to have to watch my life go by from a wheelchair, unable to visit spontaneously or walk around campus. Nonetheless, she is watching her daughter achieve despite not being able to help and she wears that proudly. My mom's life was cut short, her expectations and hopes for the future were tarnished as she's become wheelchair-bound for the remainder of her life. But, I wanted to show her that she didn't fail any of us, and we're capable of reaching for dreams none of us thought possible. My mom is the shining example of strength, and I will work harder in my life because she was unable to. I will pay forward her joyful spirit, and the life lessons about perseverance she's taught me. Although I was not given an easy deck of cards, I have and will continue to play them to the best of my ability to not only give me the life I deserve, but to give my mom one as well.

I was 14 years old, 5 months fresh in the horror that was high school. I was picked up from school at 2:40pm, however, this afternoon it was not my mom or my dad, it was my grandmother. Not thinking much else besides what I was going to have for a snack when I got home, I looked up to see tears streaming down her face. "Your mother had a stroke this morning". The sentence did not compute, as I wasn't even sure what a stroke was. "She's in the hospital, and will be for quite some time". Again, the words circled my clueless mind like dust particles in the air. Finally finding my tongue, I responded "what's a stroke, where is she, how did that happen". Suddenly the questions were met with the anguished face on my grandmother, who wasn't quite sure how to answer my questions. We took the journey to the hospital, which felt like a never-ending passing of trees and thoughts. We finally made our way to her room, and within a matter of 2 minutes the word "stroke" ripped through my body like knives. There was my mom, my superhero, my best friend laying in front of me with half her body collapsed. She couldn't get a coherent word out, she could barely see me, or comprehend herself what had happened since she dropped us off at school that morning. Fast forward, I am 16 years old and my mom is officially wheelchair bound and paralyzed on the left side of her body for the rest of her life. High school is hard, my father is an alcohol who has simply crumbled into a sad excuse of a man. Abusive, neglect, and a feeling of unfairness runs rampant through my veins every single day. ENOUGH. I had enough of feeling sorry for myself, feeling like my life had been decided for me as a sad, miserable, unproductive story. There was nothing I could do about losing my mother, there was nothing I could do about not having a father, my parents were officially unable to help me wiggle my way through life anymore. I had enough of knowing this reality I had found myself in. So, fast forward to 16 and a few months old, I was now working two jobs so I could get myself a car (considering rides to school were unpredictable at best). I joined two sport teams, doing cheerleading and softball while balancing these jobs and my home life. I got that car, and the sun began to shine a little bit more. Next, came school. In a matter of a few months I had gone from skipping school and spending class time playing Flappy Bird, to taking all honor and AP classes and finding my name on the "High Honors" board in the hallway semester after semester. I had changed, I had succeeded, and I refused to take the punches I was given. I was better than this, I was going to do better than this, and I was going to prove it to all who watched. Fast forward, it's senior year and college is all the talk. Here, the pressure sets in. "How on earth am I going to pay for this". With the help of teachers who believed in me, I applied to scholarship after scholarship. I spent hours with the guidance office making sure I was going to get into UNH. I got accepted, and was awarded scholarship after scholarship. Here I was, a college freshman, the first in my family, against all odds. What a tragic, life-changing moment so early in my life taught me is to fight. To fight for yourself, to fight to end up where you picture yourself being. Well, I pictured myself standing tall on a podium in a courtroom with a gavel in my hand. Today, I am a few classes away from earning a dual major in psychology and justice studies. Multiple appearances on the Dean's List, have paid my way through school with multiple jobs, have worked for the University and made a name for myself, and a legal internship on its way. Then I will fight hard again, and get my law degree. Life has taught me a simple truth; it indeed is not fair. Taking someone's mom away at 14 is not fair, making a child feel like they need to provide for their family is not fair, addiction is not fair. Paying for groceries and bills at 14 is not fair, and starting from the absolute bottom is not fair. However, opportunities are fair. The ability we all have to break the cycle is fair, hard work is fair, and dreams being in reach is fair. All it takes is some encouragement, direction, and perseverance to see the difference. Because I was cheated out of my childhood, I have been ready for adulthood my whole life. A con on the forefront, but a pro once I've turned 22 and the world didn't feel upside down. I can handle anything, I have handled everything, and nothing can stop me in my tracks, not a thing. My perspective on life changed when I saw how ugly giving up can be and I realized I want no part of that in my life. I learned how to be strong, and being strong will benefit every aspect of my future. I am proud that these perspectives were given to me, and although not ideal, I am proud of what my toxic life experience has taught me. With tragedy comes triumph, and I have been fortunate enough to live by that statement. Thank you, Hannah Clark