Walking through the dark and hazardous landscape of a construction site, I found myself living a morning to escape my reality. “Take it to the house over there,” my dad said as he handed me the pressure washer from his truck. The cold metal stung my hands while thick mud pulled my boots down. It was still early that Sunday morning, and being the oldest of four, I tiptoed quietly past the broken cabinets that never fully closed and the familiar skittering on the floor. Living in a disruptive home, roaches became the unwelcomed background noise of my life. So I made the forty-minute drive to my painting job not just for extra cash, but because it was one of the few places where I felt in control. Growing up, the roaches in the house shaped my education and well-being. I remember being too distracted by the roaches crawling around my house while studying late into the night. School, practice, and work became places I could escape from an environment that made me feel restless in a place where I was supposed to rest. And although I knew it was going to be another long day at work, I still helped my dad unpack heavy materials from our truck. Looking at the house, Yawning and barely awake, I visualized it as a newly painted house to give my efforts purpose. Whether I was translating directions to my non-English speaking crew, or prepping the houses to begin painting. With this visualization in mind, and the strokes of my brush, I learned to work towards my goal through the distractions surrounding me. And although painting didn't directly help my education, it helped support my family, and taught me to pursue my goal when I visualized it no matter the situation. When I'm not using my work boots, I'm a runner for my cross country team. I enjoyed running as each practice felt like a temporary escape from my reality at home, as the only thing moving around me was the ground beneath my feet, not the insects I had learned to ignore at home. In my first race, I remember the cool morning breeze hitting my legs as I stood behind the starting line, shivering from both the cold and my nervousness. Like my tean, I wore a blue and white striped uniform with my school logo on it. And although it was very ugly, I noted that it was the only discernible thing you could see that early morning. But during a socratic seminar in my sophomore year, I finally realized that I can transform the chaos in my life with visualization, instead of running from it. By going to practice and work, I had actually been avoiding confronting my problems. It was only until I opened my book in the seminar that I froze. A small cockroach had followed me home and crawled across the page of my book. I stared at it, embarrassed and tired. Before, I would’ve convinced myself that if I ignored the problems at home they would disappear. But when my teacher called my name, something shifted. I closed my book flattening the roach, and began to speak. I’m no longer the kid who stayed in complacency while roaches ran through my life. I’ve learned that visualizing isn’t escaping reality, it’s shaping it. And for me, It was the first step toward building something better. So until my goal becomes reality, I’ll keep visualizing myself crossing the stage of my graduation, not just with dress shoes, but with my work boots and my blue uniform.