I was done playing video games for days at a time. I surmised it was time to use my time wisely and make something out of this godsend, better known as summer break. It seems as though the entirety of junior year had been leading up to that summer. I was thriving academically, but my mental health, social life, and physical well-being were all on the decline. Social anxiety ate at me like a vulture to its prey, while both my social media consumption and actual-food consumption were reaching unhealthy heights. While grasping at straws I found something that sparked a little hope within me. One tri-month-long application process later I was accepted and en route to Arkansas Governor's School. What's that? During the summer, 400 gifted rising seniors from all over the state live together on a college campus for a month to explore college-level classes and experience the lively college atmosphere. AGS was a game-changer for me. Social anxiety wasn't an option anymore; the atmosphere was so open and the people were so magnetic that I found myself opening up and making friends before I knew it. Social media wasn't necessary because all the social interaction opportunities I could ask for were standing in front of me, waiting to be pursued. I became a healthier eater, too; three hearty (and delectable) meals a day? I was hooked. AGS served as an opportunity for me to create a balanced lifestyle from the ashes of my bad habits and anxieties. By enthusiastically frequenting lectures and events, I got the chance to rediscover the extroverted, social butterfly version of myself that I’d so long forgotten. Not only that, but I polished my rusty communicative skills, fell in love with physical activity, and found a passion in the pursuit of new knowledge and experience. As evidenced by the comments in my yearbook, I contributed greatly to the enjoyable, stimulating atmosphere at AGS, and that means a lot to me. So now what? For one, I’m definitely more open to new experiences and trying the untried. As President, I’ve been busy brainstorming fundraisers for my school’s National Honor Society chapter, and many of them are inspired by the belief that there’s much to be found in unfamiliar ideas. Most importantly, though, I’m actively searching for opportunities to grow. I escaped my comfort zone for the first time in a while at AGS, and ever since I got a taste of that flourishing feeling, my resolve has been absolute. Whatever I choose to do in the future, I’m sure to bring a new, energetic perspective fueled by an infinite potential for growth. Now that I’m here, I don’t think I’m likely to go back to video games…

I was done playing video games for days at a time. I surmised it was time to use my time wisely and make something out of this godsend, better known as summer break. It seems as though the entirety of junior year had been leading up to that summer. I was thriving academically, but my mental health, social life, and physical well-being were all on the decline. Social anxiety ate at me like a vulture to its prey, while both my social media consumption and actual-food consumption were reaching unhealthy heights. While grasping at straws I found something that sparked a little hope within me. One tri-month-long application process later I was accepted and en route to Arkansas Governor's School. What's that? During the summer, 400 gifted rising seniors from all over the state live together on a college campus for a month to explore college-level classes and experience the lively college atmosphere. AGS was a game-changer for me. Social anxiety wasn't an option anymore; the atmosphere was so open and the people were so magnetic that I found myself opening up and making friends before I knew it. Social media wasn't necessary because all the social interaction opportunities I could ask for were standing in front of me, waiting to be pursued. I became a healthier eater, too; three hearty (and delectable) meals a day? I was hooked. AGS served as an opportunity for me to create a balanced lifestyle from the ashes of my bad habits and anxieties. By enthusiastically frequenting lectures and events, I got the chance to rediscover the extroverted, social butterfly version of myself that I’d so long forgotten. Not only that, but I polished my rusty communicative skills, fell in love with physical activity, and found a passion in the pursuit of new knowledge and experience. As evidenced by the comments in my yearbook, I contributed greatly to the enjoyable, stimulating atmosphere at AGS, and that means a lot to me. So now what? For one, I’m definitely more open to new experiences and trying the untried. As President, I’ve been busy brainstorming fundraisers for my school’s National Honor Society chapter, and many of them are inspired by the belief that there’s much to be found in unfamiliar ideas. Most importantly, though, I’m actively searching for opportunities to grow. I escaped my comfort zone for the first time in a while at AGS, and ever since I got a taste of that flourishing feeling, my resolve has been absolute. Whatever I choose to do in the future, I’m sure to bring a new, energetic perspective fueled by an infinite potential for growth. Now that I’m here, I don’t think I’m likely to go back to video games…

I was done playing video games for days at a time. I surmised it was time to use my time wisely and make something out of this godsend, better known as summer break. It seems as though the entirety of junior year had been leading up to that summer. I was thriving academically, but my mental health, social life, and physical well-being were all on the decline. Social anxiety ate at me like a vulture to its prey, while both my social media consumption and actual-food consumption were reaching unhealthy heights. While grasping at straws I found something that sparked a little hope within me. One tri-month-long application process later I was accepted and en route to Arkansas Governor's School. What's that? During the summer, 400 gifted rising seniors from all over the state live together on a college campus for a month to explore college-level classes and experience the lively college atmosphere. AGS was a game-changer for me. Social anxiety wasn't an option anymore; the atmosphere was so open and the people were so magnetic that I found myself opening up and making friends before I knew it. Social media wasn't necessary because all the social interaction opportunities I could ask for were standing in front of me, waiting to be pursued. I became a healthier eater, too; three hearty (and delectable) meals a day? I was hooked. AGS served as an opportunity for me to create a balanced lifestyle from the ashes of my bad habits and anxieties. By enthusiastically frequenting lectures and events, I got the chance to rediscover the extroverted, social butterfly version of myself that I’d so long forgotten. Not only that, but I polished my rusty communicative skills, fell in love with physical activity, and found a passion in the pursuit of new knowledge and experience. As evidenced by the comments in my yearbook, I contributed greatly to the enjoyable, stimulating atmosphere at AGS, and that means a lot to me. So now what? For one, I’m definitely more open to new experiences and trying the untried. As President, I’ve been busy brainstorming fundraisers for my school’s National Honor Society chapter, and many of them are inspired by the belief that there’s much to be found in unfamiliar ideas. Most importantly, though, I’m actively searching for opportunities to grow. I escaped my comfort zone for the first time in a while at AGS, and ever since I got a taste of that flourishing feeling, my resolve has been absolute. Whatever I choose to do in the future, I’m sure to bring a new, energetic perspective fueled by an infinite potential for growth. Now that I’m here, I don’t think I’m likely to go back to video games…

"If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change" - Micheal Jackson Conversations with friends revealed to me how worried high schoolers are about colleges denying them based on their ACT scores. That didn't sit right with me. These were hard workers, innovators, people that earned the chance to shine at a quality institution. I empathized with them; I was once in a similar position. Why should a measly two-digit number hold them back from the colleges of their dreams? I had to make a change. I didn't know how to tutor, but I did know my way around the ACT. At the time, it felt like a crazy idea to thrust myself into a challenge like this. I thrusted anyway. I started off with a friend craving a score increase. We met once a week at Barnes & Noble over coffee, and I quickly learned that he wasn't the only student sitting at the table. I was learning too. Even when I knew the answer, which wasn't always the case, teaching in a digestible way was a hurdle all its own. Overcoming that meant developing my unique, energetic teaching approach, while also adapting to my tutee's learning style. Those 1-on-1 sessions expanded my perception of how much I could shape the world around me. From those hours spent in Barnes & Noble discussing how to use semicolons, I grew to enjoy the feeling of cultivating growth in others. Something sprouted within me. "Tutor" became an irreplaceable aspect of my identity. I went on to work with other bright students hungry for score improvements. When I felt the need to break out of my usual Barnes & Noble routine, I started a tutoring club at school. Working with underclassmen after school allowed me to nurture my ability to connect to others. It's these experiences that eventually landed me my first job: at a tutoring center! Becoming a tutor granted me the means to make an impact on the world. I plan on using my academic strengths to guide those that deserve a shot at making their wildest dreams come to fruition. I would've never made it to this point, after all, if I hadn't started off with a crazy idea. I'm dedicated to growing with and showing compassion for those in need, and whenever I'm missing the tools I need to do that, I'll simply look in the mirror and make the change.

Elementary field days were pure bliss. They were our way of saying "Goodbye school!" and "Hello summer!" A soft air of sugary concessions and unadulterated joy floated about for the best couple hours of the entire year, and I wouldn't miss it for the world. The whole grade would savor spectacular events of all sorts in the May heat without so much as a breath in between. With so much to indulge in, one activity couldn't hold our attention for long, that is, until The Races. Five athletes were pitted against each other on the track. Their task? A simple run halfway around. At the finish line was a crowd yelling with all the volume they could muster, just as you'd expect. But these weren't just any races; these were The Races. There were politics and strategies, rivalries and alliances; this was war. And I didn't know what I'd signed up for. As I'm standing excitedly at my starting position on the track, I look over to the crowd on the other side. Hiding in plain sight was the subject of all my affections: my elementary school crush. She looked back in my direction, almost as if she could feel my enthusiasm. After a second of eye contact, I set my gaze ahead. Our coach prepared to say the magic words. "Ready!" I was ready. "Set!" I was set. "Go!" And we were off. I felt amazing. From my peripheral vision, I could make out my four competitors alongside me. When one started falling behind there was a tinge of delight inside me with a disproportionate lack of guilt. I could've closed my eyes and run forever. Maybe I should've. With my eyes open I saw something strange; I was staring at the backs of my competitors. Asthma had awoken from its slumber and was kicking into high gear. My enthusiasm died down and I felt my smile droop. Why couldn't I keep up? I was eating their dust and serving it back to them in a coughing fit, but I kept running. As I inched nearer, the crowd's cheers and chants started sounding more like jeers and taunts, but I had to finish. Well, finish I did. The fourth-place medal wouldn't have bothered me as much if I hadn't known it was out of five people. I had to take some pumps from my inhaler and a couple of minutes to gather myself, but the ordeal stayed with me long after. Asthma took away the athletic aspect of life from me, and it made me insecure. I felt like I could only experience the academic part of school life, like I was missing the other half. I took to envying those around me that were more active than I, which adversely affected my relationships. Where could I have been without asthma? It's been six years since I last participated in The Races, and I'm finally ready to start new ones. I've learned about how important perspective is, and I can happily say that I now see my asthma as a challenge to my new goal: joining and thriving on my high school track team. I want to train myself using memories like this one as motivation to constantly improve and to truly experience the other half. I'm considering pushing for a field day next year at the end of my senior year to finally redeem myself. I only hope that this time I won't embarrass myself in front of my crush.

"But, I don't have any dreams or objectives in my life. I don't know what dance to do." "As long as you are dancing, you will get somewhere." A youth, pessimistic, self-loathing, and discontented, visits a philosopher known for teaching that the world is simple and that happiness is always within reach. The youth came with a notebook and a fistful of doubt; throughout his childhood and even in that moment he'd been unhappy for some reason or another. How could life possibly be simple? Could he really be ... happy? For five sporadic days, he and the philosopher engaged in discourse, often heatedly, and, on the fifth day, the youth left the philosopher's den with a vibrant new perspective on life. "The Courage to be Disliked" is indisputably insightful, and a must-read. Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga masterfully guide us through what is likely our first encounter with Adlerian psychology, and they practically hand us the tools we need to build better lives. It's my favorite book because it spoke to me. I've been struggling with self-esteem issues and feelings of directionlessness for years, and these enchanted pages finally put things into perspective for me. It mercilessly called me out on what I was doing wrong, which I didn't appreciate, but the books that hurt are the books we need to read most. Then, instead of leaving me to figure out how to replace my detrimental habits, it attentively details alternative ways of thinking to work toward my ideal self. Admittedly, this book can only take us partway there. It's our task to put in the effort to realize our potential and become who we truly aspire to be. "The Courage to be Disliked" may only be a start, but it's the best start we could ask for.

They say the only difference between the hero and the villain is how one responds to the pain the world throws their way. A villain chooses to hurt the world in retaliation, and a hero chooses to heal it. Born in Austria in 1870, he faced adversity from the start. Rickets stole his capability of walking until he was at least two, his brother died next to him in bed when he was three, and he developed pneumonia around the age of four. How did he respond? He decided to become a doctor. He struggled with math early on, and his teacher suggested he be removed from school. How did he respond? He studied and soon surpassed all of his classmates. His name is Alfred Adler. You've heard of Freud and Jung and maybe even good ol' Skinner, but another name lies with them in the pages of history: Alfred Adler. As the patron of Adlerian psychology, better known as individual psychology, Adler earned his place among the greats. His unique approach to human issues details how to become more successful, happier, and freer in one's life. By highlighting the social aspects of all our problems and proposing I-should've-thought-of-that solutions, he makes life seem, well, simple. "My psychology belongs to everyone." Instead of recording his teachings, Adler focused on changing the perspectives of those around him. He made his mark through discussion and debate, much like Socrates, and his ideas spread around the world. Although he's long gone, Alfred Adler has changed my life. His heroic determination sparked my interest in psychology and therapy, and he's taught me how to become the self I aspire to be.

Conscious creativity is a vital aspect of everything I do. I wouldn't be ranked second in my junior class without that mindset. Notoriously boring class projects can become extraordinary showcases of my personality with only a dash of originality, and tedious papers due in the next week turn out to be invitations to tell a story with a sprinkle of ingenuity. This creativity isn't something that is limited to the classroom, naturally. If you were to take a peek at my journal, every morning entry looks different, because I take the time to change up my headings and add little drawings here and there. My dishes when I cook may not always come out looking (or tasting) the best, but that's because I'm not one to stick to a recipe. Saturday's running route rarely resembles Tuesday's, my sketchbook is filled with a variety of subject matters, and I try to employ new and creative ways to explain topics to my tutees during tutoring sessions. Creativity isn't an act on its own. Creativity is, to me, taking what I'd do daily and spicing it up a bit.