High school was probably the most difficult time in my life. Having a reading and math disability made it never quite easy to learn, but what made it even harder was how much I was misunderstood. No one understood why I was struggling so badly for so many years. Some teachers and classmates thought I was lazy or simply didn't care. Others thought that I was ill or daydreaming. But inwardly, I did care—I wanted to learn and pass more than anything else. I simply could not learn like everyone else. When I was finally diagnosed and began IEP services, things leveled out. I was no longer viewed— not as a failure, but as a student who needed an alternate learning style. I wasn't lazy or broken. I was just a student who thought differently, and with the proper accommodations, I could achieve. But even with this understanding, the battles didn't cease. The battles in the classroom were merely half the war. The social and emotional consequences were just as difficult, if not more so. I was ridiculed for taking "lower" classes, and often found myself sitting on the outside looking in. High school especially, where popularity is of the utmost importance, I felt invisible and isolated. I caught myself questioning my worth numerous times, wondering if I would ever be good enough. But as I grew up, I learned something important: my learning disability is not who I am—it just tints the way I see the world. Overcoming judgment, initially by others, and subsequently by myself, has hardened me, made me a more sympathetic person, and hugely motivated. It's also inspired me to become a special education teacher. One quote that deeply resonates for me is from Professor Harold Bloom, where he said, "The purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence." This speaks volumes to me—not just as someone pursuing education, but as someone who has had an experience with feeling seen in a certain way. Teaching isn't just imparting knowledge. It's about assisting students in discovering their own worth, strength, and potential. It's about leading them to realize that they count. As someone once disconnected from this sense of being present, I now want to enable other students—especially those with learning differences—to connect with it too. My dream as a teacher is to be in a classroom where all students feel worthy and strong. I want to be the teacher who builds confidence, self-awareness, and independence. I want to teach students that their challenges don't make them weak—but make them powerful. Looking ahead to college, I see a fresh start—a second chance to reinvent myself and build a future that is driven by passion and purpose. I'm excited to be able to grow, learn, and be among people who are also striving towards their goals. I may not have the perfect record academically, but I have something just as valuable: grit, empathy, and a drive to make a positive impact. I've become strong enough to stand up for myself, learn how to get help when I need it, and utilize struggles as a source of strength. College is an opportunity for a new start, and I plan on making the most of it. I want to learn more, connect with individuals who share my goals, and keep growing into the kind of teacher who can make a difference. My past has shaped me, but it doesn’t define me. What defines me is my refusal to give up, my desire to help others, and my belief that everyone—no matter how they learn—deserves the chance to succeed.

Professor Harold Bloom's statement, "the purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence," speaks volumes to me—not merely as one who wishes to become a special education teacher but as one who has faced firsthand the brutal reality of being misunderstood, mislabeled, and underestimated because of a learning disability. For me, Bloom's quote is that true teaching isn't information passing; it makes the students aware of their own existence, strengths, and capabilities. It's about guiding the students to see and believe in their own worth. As someone who has had a reading and math disability as a child, I understand what it feels like to be outside of that sense of presence Bloom is talking about. As long as I can remember, nobody understood why I was failing at school. Some thought that I was lazy or always sick. In fact, I did want to learn—I just could not learn the way everyone else did. Being diagnosed finally and receiving IEP services was a watershed. It was the first time that I had ever felt heard for who I really was—not lazy or not good enough, but a person who learned differently. Even with accommodations, my struggles extended way beyond the classroom. The social stigma of attending special education classes was a constant thing throughout school. I was often teased for taking "lower" classes and looked at as if I were less than everyone else. High school was especially difficult. I isolated myself and began questioning my own value. But through it all, I learned to refuse letting other people define me. What I learned is that a learning disability doesn't limit my future life—it only changes the path I am on to get there. It is this journey of self-discovery and determination that I wish to help other students find. My vision as a prospective special education teacher is to create a classroom where each student, no matter the challenges they learn, has a place—where they feel valued, empowered, and capable. I want to be the kind of teacher who not only teaches information but also facilitates students to develop confidence, self-awareness, and autonomy. I want my fellow students to understand that their hardships don't define them—strength does. I know firsthand how important it is to have someone believe in you when you are unable to believe in yourself. That is the kind of teacher I would aspire to be. I may not have the perfect academic record, but I have something that is just as valuable: grit, empathy, and a deep understanding of what it is like to be different. I've been down this road and I now want to use my experience to assist others in discovering their potential and embracing that they are different. Leading students to their voice, their confidence, and their place in the world—that's teaching. That's what sets passion ablaze in my purpose.

I want to become a teacher because I believe that education is one of the most powerful tools of change. The idea of how I might be able to impact one person's future—not just through lessons, but through support, tolerance, and faith—is what motivates me. Teaching is not just a job to me; it's a way of giving back, of making a difference, and of being a part of something greater than myself. My desire to teach comes from an enjoyment of learning and a sense of duty to help others find their own success. I liked to help other students understand boggling information even as a child. I just naturally gravitated to being the helper—teaching math problems in easy steps or explaining a science concept in a way that finally made sense. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was already developing the mind of a teacher: patient, supportive, and always seeking a new way of getting to an individual. Over time, I realized that teaching is not necessarily about learning material—it's about connecting. Every student learns differently, and part of being an effective teacher is being able to adapt, to meet students where they are, and to bring out their strengths. That challenge excites me. I want to be the kind of teacher who doesn’t give up when something doesn’t click the first time. Rather, I want to listen, learn, and persevere until that moment of comprehension, that glimmer of getting it, finally catches fire—because I know how much energy that instant contains. Much of what prompted me to understand the value of such a commitment is my mother. She was the most influential educator I ever got to meet. I witnessed her work every single day that I was growing up—preparing for class, grading papers, tutoring students after class, and even giving up her weekends when she knew a student required attention. What I respected the most wasn't her work ethic, however, but the fact that she did it all because she loved it. She genuinely delighted in giving her best to her students, and they, in return, had the utmost respect for her. I saw how former students would come back to visit her, telling her about their success and thanking her for believing in them when they could not believe in themselves. Seeing the impact she made made me want to do the same. While my mother planted the seed of my passion for teaching, my decision to become a teacher is based on my own personal values and goals. I want to create a culture in the classroom where students feel safe, seen, and capable of development. I want them to know that someone believes in them, even on their worst days. I want to challenge them, motivate them, and help them find confidence to do anything they set their minds to. Teaching is never simple, but some of the very things that I love most about it. It requires grit, resilience, and heart. I'm ready for all of that. I don't desire a job—I desire a career of worth. To become a teacher is to take up the profession that changes lives, and I can imagine nothing more fulfilling.

I want to become a teacher because I believe that education is one of the most powerful tools of change. The idea of how I might be able to impact one person's future—not just through lessons, but through support, tolerance, and faith—is what motivates me. Teaching is not just a job to me; it's a way of giving back, of making a difference, and of being a part of something greater than myself. My desire to teach comes from an enjoyment of learning and a sense of duty to help others find their own success. I liked to help other students understand boggling information even as a child. I just naturally gravitated to being the helper—teaching math problems in easy steps or explaining a science concept in a way that finally made sense. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was already developing the mind of a teacher: patient, supportive, and always seeking a new way of getting to an individual. Over time, I realized that teaching is not necessarily about learning material—it's about connecting. Every student learns differently, and part of being an effective teacher is being able to adapt, to meet students where they are, and to bring out their strengths. That challenge excites me. I want to be the kind of teacher who doesn’t give up when something doesn’t click the first time. Rather, I want to listen, learn, and persevere until that moment of comprehension, that glimmer of getting it, finally catches fire—because I know how much energy that instant contains. Much of what prompted me to understand the value of such a commitment is my mother. She was the most influential educator I ever got to meet. I witnessed her work every single day that I was growing up—preparing for class, grading papers, tutoring students after class, and even giving up her weekends when she knew a student required attention. What I respected the most wasn't her work ethic, however, but the fact that she did it all because she loved it. She genuinely delighted in giving her best to her students, and they, in return, had the utmost respect for her. I saw how former students would come back to visit her, telling her about their success and thanking her for believing in them when they could not believe in themselves. Seeing the impact she made made me want to do the same. While my mother planted the seed of my passion for teaching, my decision to become a teacher is based on my own personal values and goals. I want to create a culture in the classroom where students feel safe, seen, and capable of development. I want them to know that someone believes in them, even on their worst days. I want to challenge them, motivate them, and help them find confidence to do anything they set their minds to. Teaching is never simple, but some of the very things that I love most about it. It requires grit, resilience, and heart. I'm ready for all of that. I don't desire a job—I desire a career of worth. To become a teacher is to take up the profession that changes lives, and I can imagine nothing more fulfilling.