My junior year of high school was the most difficult year of my life. I struggled with family relationships, course load and my mental health. I was diagnosed with depression in sixth grade, and later anxiety. At the beginning of the year, I made the decision to go off of my medication under the impression that I was doing better with my mental health. I learned quickly that this was a mistake. When college became a topic of discussion in almost every class, I became overwhelmed. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I put off sports to focus on academics. Everywhere I turned, I found someone who did not understand what I was going through. My parents tried their best to help me, but what I really needed was a break. My perseverance came in the form of a simple realization. While I was sitting in bed, wasting away my time watching TV in my dark room, a question popped into my head. "What am I doing?". This simple question changed the course of my entire thought process. I came to the conclusion I have three options in this world. One, let others decide my fate. Two, take control of my own life. Three, give up. The last option weighed heavily on my mind. However, I knew I would have to make a change in my life if I wanted to improve my mental health. Gathering up whatever strength I had left, I began my strenuous journey towards self love and acceptance. I finished off my Junior year strong. I went back on my medication and spoke regularly with a therapist. My struggles are apart of me, but they do not define me. I am proud of where I am today.

Perhaps one of my proudest moments as an older sister was watching my younger sibling, Skye, find a passion for art. It was only two days ago that she thundered down the stairs into the kitchen, sketchpad in hand, to seek me out for assistance with fixing a sketch she had drawn. I set aside the knife I was using to chop vegetables for dinner and took her drawing in hand. When I looked down at the page, I was astounded to see how well her skills had progressed since I last examined her art. The clear figure of a girl's face, with big eyes, a button nose, and a mess of curls atop her head stared back at me. A feeling of immense pride swelled in my chest to know that Skye trusted me of all people to help her with her art. I gave her pointers on proportions and techniques she could use, but I made sure she knew that no art ever needs "fixing". I have been the artist in the family since the time I was making refrigerator-worthy masterpieces in kindergarten. Art has always been my retreat in hard times. Expressing myself through my work is a way to release feelings I can not express in words. Knowing that I may have had a hand in helping someone find a passion for art is immensely humbling. It dawned upon me that as people mature, interests shift towards things they may have never found appealing before. Skye had frequently talked down upon her art skills in the past and found little interest in making the mere pastime a hobby. Somewhere down the line, she gathered enough confidence to not only practice her art but to seek help from someone she knew that shared the same passion. Art has the potential to help so many people. At the start of my senior year of high school, I decided to join my school's National Art Honor Society. I did not know what to expect going in, but I was pleased to find out the kinds of projects we would be spreading through the community. Twenty hours of community service are required to graduate from the Society. This can include painting old pottery left behind by their makers, collecting "wishes" from students that our club members bring to life on paper, and a host of other art-related activities. Perhaps my favorite so far is our Memory project. A School in Cameroon, Africa sent over pictures of a select number of their students for the club members to draw. I was amazed at the thought of sending my art across the world for a young student to appreciate. The idea of bringing someone joy in this way, even if I never meet them in person is inspirational. We have not finished the project yet, but I am excited to see how it turns out. My art career has only just begun. I hope in the future I can find a way to better my community through my passion. Art is something that is meant to be shared. I have dabbled with the thought of becoming an art teacher. I wish to feel the same pride my sixth-grade art teacher did when she realized at least one person was paying attention to her lessons and using the skills she was teaching us. If one child finds their passion from the arts, the world becomes just that much more desirable to exist in.