Even in death, my mother has always been my top inspiration for being able to reach my goals and fight adversity. Growing up, we were a severely low-income family, who were often homeless. When we had moved to Tennessee from Iowa on a whim, my mother was able to find a job, and was lucky enough to move us into a tiny apartment to house me, my older siblings, and my infant brother. Despite working 16-hour days, she would still try to find time to spend with me and my siblings, even though those instances were rare. She would always surprise me with stuff when I did good in school, and was the first ever person to buy me flowers. My relationship with my mom was a tight one despite the few times she had available to see me. She made very little, and most of her money went towards rent, but she still did the best she could to make my siblings and I happy, even if that meant she didn't have her own room and her own bed. The most exciting parts of my childhood were when she had the time to attend the plays and musicals I was a part of, between church and school. One day, while watching the youth performance at our local church, she left about an hour into the play due to feeling incredibly faint and sick. She often complained about miscellaneous bruises she would wake up with, and would teasingly tell my older brother, "You're not beating me up in my sleep, right?". As silly as the banter was, the amusement immediately crept away as my mother had to be rushed to the hospital after a severe wave of sickness. At the hospital, they soon diagnosed her with aggressive Leukemia and had to start Chemotherapy immediately, where she passed away a few months later. After I had entered my teenage years, I had an epiphany. My mother, who was a single mom, made minimum wage and was never home, still always found a way to be there for her loved ones. She still persevered as best as she could, even if it wasn't enough to save her life. I realized that through her courage, determination, and passion, I could do anything I set my mind to. She was able to accomplish a lot considering the situation she was in, and it helped me realize that I could do the same. This led me to understand the value in life and family and in my future. Even after her death, she has always inspired me to do my best and achieve my educational goals.

What I loved most about my mother was despite being a single, busy mom, she always ensured her family was loved. Growing up, we were a severely low-income family, who were often homeless. When we had moved to Tennessee from Iowa on a whim, my mother was able to find a job, and was lucky enough to move us into a tiny apartment to house me, my older siblings, and my infant brother. Despite working 16-hour days, she would still try to find time to spend with me and my siblings, even though those instances were rare. She would always surprise me with stuff when I did good in school, and was the first ever person to buy me flowers. My relationship with my mom was a tight one despite the few times she had available to see me. She made very little, and most of her money went towards rent, but she still did the best she could to make my siblings and I happy, even if that meant she didn't have her own room and her own bed. The most exciting parts of my childhood were when she had the time to attend the plays and musicals I was a part of, between church and school. One day, while watching the youth performance at our local church, she left about an hour into the play due to feeling incredibly faint and sick. She often complained about miscellaneous bruises she would wake up with, and would teasingly tell my older brother, "You're not beating me up in my sleep, right?". As silly as the banter was, the amusement immediately crept away as my mother had to be rushed to the hospital after a severe wave of sickness. At the hospital, they soon diagnosed her with aggressive Leukemia and had to start Chemotherapy immediately, where she passed away a few months later. After I had entered my teenage years, I had an epiphany. My mother, who was a single mom, made minimum wage, and who was never home, still always found a way to be there for her loved ones. She still persevered as best as she could, even if it wasn't enough to save her life. I realized that through her courage, determination, and passion, I could do anything I set my mind to. She was able to accomplish a lot considering the situation she was in, and it helped me realize that I could do the same. This led me to understand the value in life and family and in my future. I plan to give back to the community and the people who helped shape me over the years. I currently do volunteer work through local animal shelters and earth conservation programs, and I am eager to do more to help others in need! I spend most of my time at these organizations, as well as with my loved ones. Alongside this, when I achieve my dream career after graduating college, I plan on setting up a scholarship program for students who have gone through similar adversities as I did, so they spend less time stressing about college finances and more time with their loved ones.

What I loved most about my mother was despite being a single, busy mom, she always ensured her family was loved. Growing up, we were a severely low-income family, who were often homeless. When we had moved to Tennessee from Iowa on a whim, my mother was able to find a job, and was lucky enough to move us into a tiny apartment to house me, my older siblings, and my infant brother. Despite working 16-hour days, she would still try to find time to spend with me and my siblings, even though those instances were rare. She would always surprise me with stuff when I did good in school, and was the first ever person to buy me flowers. My relationship with my mom was a tight one despite the few times she had available to see me. She made very little, and most of her money went towards rent, but she still did the best she could to make my siblings and I happy, even if that meant she didn't have her own room and her own bed. The most exciting parts of my childhood were when she had the time to attend the plays and musicals I was a part of, between church and school. One day, while watching the youth performance at our local church, she left about an hour into the play due to feeling incredibly faint and sick. She often complained about miscellaneous bruises she would wake up with, and would teasingly tell my older brother, "You're not beating me up in my sleep, right?". As silly as the banter was, the amusement immediately crept away as my mother had to be rushed to the hospital after a severe wave of sickness. At the hospital, they soon diagnosed her with aggressive Leukemia and had to start Chemotherapy immediately, where she passed away a few months later. After I had entered my teenage years, I had an epiphany. My mother, who was a single mom, made minimum wage, and who was never home, still always found a way to be their for her loved ones. She still persevered as best as she could, even if it wasn't enough to save her life. I realized that through her courage, determination, and passion, I could do anything I set my mind to. She was able to accomplish a lot considering the situation she was in, and it helped me realize that I could do the same. This led me to understand the value in life and family, and in my career.

The person I am today ties in with the hardships I faced from my childhood years, and the situation that I was placed in at a young age. Going from living in Iowa and being surrounded by my family, to swiftly being moved to a small town in Tennessee was a transition I was not prepared for in any sense. We would jump from apartment to apartment in this small town, due to my mother's lack of employment and financial stability. After about seven years of living in this small, religiously driven county, my mother passed away from a long battle with leukemia, which rendered her unable to take care of me and my infant brother. This led to being moved back to Iowa, to live with my aunt and uncle, separated from my older siblings. I was a stereotypical “troubled kid”, and was often found getting myself into escapades that ended poorly. My behavior took an all-time-low, due to the swift changes that continued to happen in my life. This phase of rebellion continued on for many years, due to the minimal coping mechanisms that I had developed. After some time, when I reached my early teenage years, I realized that my childhood years were over, and I needed to start considering my future plans and how to set myself up for success as much as possible. I knew I wanted to uphold a better life compared to the rest of my family. I understood that despite the pain I had faced, I needed to step up and do better. I wanted to receive a good education. I wanted to succeed. I wanted to make a good life for my future family, and for myself as well. Since this realization, I have dedicated myself to all of my school work, maintained high grades, and pushed myself to be the best I can be. I plan to attend the University of Northern Iowa as a freshman during the 2025-2026 school year, with a degree in Sociology and a minor in Psychology. Learning about mental health is important to me, due to the struggles I faced with mental health after the loss of my mother. My plan is to become a pediatric psychologist and help children, and ensure they do not have to go through the pain that I has faced when I was younger.

What I loved most about my mother was her determination to ensure that her family was loved. Growing up, we were a severely low-income family, who were often homeless. When we had moved to Tennessee from Iowa on a whim, my mother was able to find a job, and was lucky enough to move us into a tiny apartment to house me, my older siblings, and my infant brother. Despite working 16-hour days, she would still try to find time to spend with me and my siblings, even though those instances were rare. She would always surprise me with stuff when I did good in school, and was the first ever person to buy me flowers. My relationship with my mom was a tight one despite the few times she had available to see me. She made very little, and most of her money went towards rent, but she still did the best she could to make my siblings and I happy, even if that meant she didn't have her own room and her own bed. The most exciting parts of my childhood were when she had the time to attend the plays and musicals I was a part of, between church and school. One day, while watching the youth performance at our local church, she left about an hour into the play due to feeling incredibly faint and sick. She often complained about miscellaneous bruises she would wake up with, and would teasingly tell my older brother, "You're not beating me up in my sleep, right?". As silly as the banter was, the amusement immediately crept away as my mother had to be rushed to the hospital after a severe wave of sickness. At the hospital, they soon diagnosed her with aggressive Leukemia and had to start Chemotherapy immediately. Because of this, I did not get to see my mother as often as I used to. My aunt and uncle had come to pick me and my infant brother up, to watch over us in Iowa until my mom's sickness had passed. I had a few opportunities to video-call with her, and day by day she lost her spark and energy, which is what broke me the most. Despite this, the doctors were confident that she would soon return to full health, and eventually discharged her to go back home. She was rushed back to the hospital the same day she arrived home. The second time around at the hospital, her health started declining instantaneously. We were not able to enter her hospital room unless we were in full sanitized hospital gowns and disposable gloves, and she eventually lost the ability to speak and look around. I remember talking to her and holding her hand, waiting for any sort of response to be given to no avail. I would spend hours on the hospital floor sobbing whilst my other family members tried to comfort me. Near her time of death, our family gathered around her along with our pastor, who delivered one last sermon. The last thing I saw my mother do seconds before passing, was a single tear that rolled down her face. Whether that be genuine emotion or purely coincidence, I am unsure. I do like to believe that she was there, soaking up her last few moments with her loved ones. Even in her final moments, she was sure to let her family know that they were dear to her, and they were loved. 7 years later I still recall my mom's laugh, kindness, and her unconditional love.

Ever since I was young, Starbucks had been a staple for my mother and I, especially when it came to their fall drinks. Growing up in a small town in Tennessee, fall was one of our favorite seasons, as it wasn't too cold, but certainly wasn't too warm either. The leaves were perfect, the atmosphere was beautiful, and it was the perfect weather to enjoy a simple Pumpkin Spice Latte from our local Starbucks. Despite how expensive it was for us at the time, being severely low income, we made a point to get one now and then when we would have a simple girls' day, or when I accompanied her to run errands. Unfortunately, my mother passed away when I was 10 years old, and our Pumpkin Spice runs ultimately came to an end. Dealing with her death was one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. I refused to think about her and hated looking through old photos and hearing stories about her from my family. I had made an effort to avoid anything that could possibly remind me of her, including coffee runs. A few years later, a friend insisted I accompany her to study at our local Starbucks together during mid-October. At first, I held zero interest in tagging along, as I didn't feel as if it would be the best idea for me. Surely enough, I caved and joined her. We sat our belongings down in the booth of the cafe, and walked up to the front register to place our orders. There was a sign that read "Fall Favorites". My heart sank to my stomach. I didn't have the heart to explain to my friend that I wanted nothing more than to leave at that moment. She seemed giddy to be there with me and was having trouble choosing from the large selection that shined down on her. I decided to bottle up my overwhelming anxiety for her sake. When it came my time to order after she had settled on a hot latte, I told the barista I'd take an iced Pumpkin Spice latte. She cheerily smiled at me and gave me my total. I regretted my decision right as the words had left my mouth, but it was too late now. My friend and I sat at our booth and looked through our coursework together while we waited for our drinks to be ready. Her name was called first, and mine was soon called after. I stood up to retrieve my drink from the hand-off plane, and I noticed I couldn't stop shaking. I quickly rushed back to my seat to set my drink down. I soon returned to normal and continued my work that was due the following week. Thirty minutes had soon passed before my friend pointed out that I still had not taken a single sip. After some nagging from my friend, I caved in. I took a sip. The first sip of a Pumpkin Spice that I've had since my mother died. I felt a flurry of emotions at this moment. I felt anxious. I felt comforted. I felt nostalgic. After letting the sip settle, the anxiety melted into a sense of relief and warmth. All the memories flooded back. I realized it took a pumpkin spice to help me grieve the loss of my mother years after she passed. I am now a barista at my local Starbucks, and every year, I await the fall season to be able to reminisce about my time with my mother. Thank you, Starbucks.

I strongly believe there is a large plethora of books that society should read and enlighten themselves with. Although, if I had to choose one book, that book would be "The Book Thief", written by Markus Zusak. I've read many books throughout my life with a strong variety of genres. From Stephen King's chilling novels to Kathleen Glawgows heart-wrenching stories, and even classics such as Wilde, Faulkner and Fitzgerald. Out of all of these books and stories, "The Book Thief" has stuck with me the longest. Not only is it a compelling story that enlightens the reader about what life was like during the Holocaust in Nazi Germany, but it also gives us a unique perspective of what life is like through the personification of Death, which I have never seen before in a novel. The story is striking and leaves the reader on the edge of their seat with anticipation and hope for the characters. I can confidently say I've read Zusak's piece at least four times over, deeply analyzing it more and more with each chapter. It is the only book I have read that is simple to understand, but never boring. With Death as the lead narrator for this book, it gives us a new perspective on the importance of being alive. The novel not only revolves around the main character, Liesel, but also those around her, and the victims of the Holocaust to give the readers a view into what life was like for them during this grueling period. The use of small excerpts of poetry and anecdotes makes "The Book Thief" the most powerful and engaging book I have ever come across. I strongly believe the world would benefit from reading this informative and compelling novel.