Growing up, I would like to think I had a happy childhood. To be frank, though, I would not be able to say if I truly did. When I was 10 years old, I was in a traumatic bicycle accident that changed the trajectory of my life. This accident resulted in me breaking my maxillae into my nasal cavity, losing two permanent teeth, having a traumatic brain injury, and losing all my childhood memories up to that point. I also suffered short-term memory loss for a short period after the accident. Entering the sixth grade with two missing teeth and a face full of road rash was not on my 2014 bingo card! Thankfully, I did not lose anything I had learned, nor did I forget people in my life, I simply lost the memories associated with both. Although the accident itself was traumatic for me, it was something that also affected my support system. I noticed the ripple effect this one accident caused on a multitude of people. As I grew older and gained maturity, I noticed how certain life events of individuals affected all who surrounded them. I often think of the phrase “hurt people hurt people.” This is so true. When someone is actively grieving, recovering, or healing, they often affect those who are closest to them in ways they may not intend to. After some personal positive experiences within therapy, I knew that I, too, wanted to help people through their journeys of resilience. During my first semester as an undergraduate student, I became established with a counselor through my university’s free Counseling and Psychological Services to talk through daily stressors, college adjustment, and past experiences. I had a wonderful counselor who truly helped me gain a new perspective. After some much-needed reflection and lots of prayerful discernment, I finally understood what my calling was. I felt peace in wanting to help people’s souls through their mental health journeys. After obtaining my B.S. in psychology in December 2023, I began my role as a mental health professional in January 2024 at Tulsa Center for Behavioral Health (TCBH), an adult inpatient psychiatric hospital. I am grateful to still be in this role, and what a joy it has been to serve individuals who are in severe mental health crises. As a care coordinator, I serve as an advocate for my patients, and I coordinate discharge plans. While this role can be challenging at times, it truly is inspiring to work with vulnerable individuals on their path to excellence. My role right now as a care coordinator has been beyond fulfilling, and I am excited for all that is to come. Working at TCBH has always been a short-term plan in my eyes. I had been planning to work at TCBH for around six months, and then I planned on putting my notice in so that I could enroll full-time in graduate school come fall 2024. The Lord had other plans for me! Through extensive research and multiple graduate school applications, I was accepted to a program in Tulsa that checked all my boxes. Now, I am beyond grateful to say that I am still working full-time at TCBH, and I am also a full-time graduate student at The University of Oklahoma's (OU) Tulsa campus. I am obtaining a master of science in clinical mental health counseling, and I am working towards becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor. After obtaining my degree and licensure, I would love to continue serving TCBH for a couple of years while I am under supervision. The end goal, though, is to eventually work in or open a private practice where I can serve as a faith-based therapist. Throughout my own search for faith-based therapy in the past few years, I have seen a gap in the field with faith-based mental health professionals, and I hope to help bridge that gap in some way, shape, or fashion. My passion for serving as a faith-based therapist stems from my deep love for Jesus and my understanding that the mind, body, spirit, and soul are all interconnected. I think it would be such a gift to not only help people with their mental health but also help them on their journeys to Heaven. Jesus is my foundation, and I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for Him. When I had my bicycle accident back in 2014, I was not wearing a helmet on this one particular bike ride, and this was highly unusual for me. I was rushing out of the house to catch up with my brother who I always went on bike rides with. After the accident, the doctors stated if I was wearing a helmet, they believed I would have broken my neck and died due to how I landed/slid across the ground. The only reason I am still alive today is because of our Father and his graciousness to let me see another day. This summer marked ten years since the accident, and I am still in awe each day of how the Lord has provided for me in abundance. One way the Lord recently provided was in my graduate schooling decision. The master’s program I am currently in is a secular program by nature. Deciding between secular and faith-based programs was a very hard decision to make. I initially accepted an offer at a faith-based university out of state, but I ultimately retracted my acceptance so I could be closer to family. When I am in my classes at OU, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace that I am in the right place. I have been able to speak up about my faith within a couple of classes when we are discussing different views on mental health, and it has been such a testament the courage He provides me. Through speaking up, I have had a couple of peers talk to me about where they are at in their faith, and it has been so fruitful to connect with them on a deeper, richer level. I am beyond excited to see how the Lord continues to guide me throughout my endeavors, and I cannot wait to help people spiritually and emotionally in my future career.

Sometimes, we must go against the grain. We must allow ourselves the space and capacity to push through unfortunate events. Sometimes, we are dealt a bad hand, and we have to learn how to either cope or work through our happenings. Almost 10 years ago, in July 2014, my world completely changed. My life turned upside down, and I had to persevere. One typical bike ride with my older brother turned into multiple medical bills, years of doubt and self-consciousness, and a lifetime of regret. On this typical bike ride, a block and a half away from my home lies a daunting hill. Usually, I conquered this hill with no hesitation. The adrenaline usually let me ride down the hill smoothly, along with the desire to keep up with my older brother. This Thursday, though, something was different. Just five minutes after leaving our house, my brother called my mom in a panic. His younger sister, only 10 years old, had crashed. With blood all over my person, my bike, and the ground, my brother rushed back to me after hearing "the loudest scream he has ever heard." The next thing I know, I am waking up in a gloomy hospital bed, constantly losing and regaining consciousness. I felt as though it was a dream - or, to better describe it - a nightmare. Being asked if you remember your name is a feeling I will never forget. Unfortunately, no memories exist prior to this day. After multiple exams, scans, and questions, the doctors diagnosed me with a broken maxilla and a traumatic brain injury, and they also found that I had lost two permanent teeth. After even more exams, we found out that I only had a recollection of the people I had met and any information I learned growing up; however, I had none of the memories associated with them. So, it is as if my life started at the age of 10 and I came into this world with ten years of knowledge. Now, some may wonder how this relates to perseverance in my life today, now that I am a college student in my second year of undergraduate studies. I would say that this accident has shaped me to be the leader I am today, and I have learned so much humility from it. As a 19-year-old girl, having to take my retainer out to eat that holds my tooth can, and has been a very daunting experience. Through many of my leadership roles on campus, some interactions are based around coming together and eating. Have a group coming to tour the campus? Sure, I'll eat lunch with them after I give the tour! My orientation group this past fall? I met up with them at 7:00 AM to start the day with a big breakfast! I have used my story as a building block for my life because I do believe that I would not be where I am today without this happening. My perseverance has allowed me to show other students that being different is okay and that there is so much more to us than what is seen on the surface. After years of doubt, shying away, and being bullied, I finally found how to use my experience to fuel my fire once I got to college. I found my people. I found myself in a community in which I am 110% accepted for who I am, missing tooth and all.

Lost and Found If you were to look overhead that day, you would have wondered, “Was this a crime scene?” Later, you too would be in disarray for a young girl who was in her routine. She and her brother went on a bike ride; out of nowhere, her brother heard her scream. People around would think someone had died; she would forever wish it was a dream. In the mixture of gravel lay one tooth. “Where is the other one? Just tell me please!” An x-ray would show the stomach of truth; she has many scars that nobody sees. For years, her brother took the blame when it was never really his fault. He has endured years of shame and his life was put to a halt. She always affirms that she still loves him, but he never really believes her. To this day, he feels from within that this day was far from a blur. Her life has been a constant battle since this day; having to take a tooth out to eat isn't exactly ideal. Nonetheless, she is slowly starting to display what all of this truly does reveal. She said she always liked to stand out from the crowd -- Oh, what the hell?! Two missing teeth make her proud.

Lost and Found If you were to look overhead that day, you would have wondered, “Was this a crime scene?” Later, you too would be in disarray for a young girl who was in her routine. She and her brother went on a bike ride; out of nowhere, her brother heard her scream. People around would think someone had died; she would forever wish it was a dream. In the mixture of gravel lay one tooth. “Where is the other one? Just tell me please!” An x-ray would show the stomach of truth; she has many scars that nobody sees. For years, her brother took the blame when it was never really his fault. He has endured years of shame and his life was put to a halt. She always affirms that she still loves him, but he never really believes her. To this day, he feels from within that this day was far from a blur. Her life has been a constant battle since this day; having to take a tooth out to eat isn't exactly ideal. Nonetheless, she is slowly starting to display what all of this truly does reveal. She said she always liked to stand out from the crowd -- Oh, what the hell?! Two missing teeth make her proud.

My golf journey started in a rather interesting way compared to most. Growing up, I had two older brothers who would always go to Sunset Hills Golf Course in Guymon, Oklahoma with their friends while I was left at home alone. They would always brag to me about how golf was the best sport in the world, and I constantly felt like I was missing out. Eventually, after hours and hours of complaining to my parents about feeling left out, I was finally allowed to tag along. At first, I just wanted to feel part of something, but as I walked the course with them, I instantaneously became intrigued with the sport. After some begging (and, of course, bribing), one of my brothers finally let me *attempt* to swing one of their clubs. As expected, I didn't hit the ball, and embarrassment quickly consumed me. I acted as if I brushed it off, but in reality, I felt ashamed. Soon after this, I was enrolled in a golf camp. My dad has played his whole life, so when I expressed a true interest in the sport he loves so deeply, he signed me up for the next camp available. I learned how to hold a club, how to properly swing, and finally, I hit my first golf ball! I wish I could remember this moment; however, I only have a distant memory. In July 2014, I was in a traumatic accident that completely changed my life. I broke my maxillae, lost two permanent teeth, had a traumatic brain injury, and lost most of my childhood memories. Due to the road rash across my entire face, neck, shoulders, and chest, the doctors forbid me from going out in the sun for any period longer than absolutely necessary. I was completely heartbroken over the fact that I could not continue to practice golfing. I had grown such a quick, strong bond with the game, and my parents knew how devastated I was. Sooner than the doctor's orders had permitted, I went back out to the golf course with my brothers. Of course, I was extra cautious - I wore a big, floppy beach hat and a long sleeve shirt, and I had a damp Frogg Togg readily available to make sure I did not pass out from the heat. Looking back on these days, I am reminded of how my golf journey truly began. Initially, it did begin with feelings of isolation. I was a younger sister who simply wanted to fit in with her older brothers and their friends. Never would I have imagined that I would actually fall in love with the sport and continue to play to the present day. When I was in high school, I joined the golf team as a freshman, and I ended up placing first place at a tournament in Laverne, Oklahoma. My team was not supportive of me, and I was bashed for doing so well. I did not continue playing competitively after that year, because I knew I did not want drama to ruin the sport I loved so much. Gladly, I still leisurely play with my dad when I am home from college, and I even worked at the 2022 PGA at Southern Hills Country Club in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Golfing is an escape for me, but it is also a way for me to tune in with reality. I am so thankful for my older brothers, and for how they made golf seem like the best sport in the world - because truly, it is.

Resilience is hard. It is trying. It can be challenging, but oh-so rewarding. I was in a traumatic accident almost ten years ago, and I felt my world crashing down. I was going on a typical bike ride with my older brother, Sean, and instead of returning home for dinner, I ended up lying in the emergency room, constantly losing consciousness. Through this accident, I broke my maxillae, lost two permanent teeth, had a traumatic brain injury/concussion, and lost all of my childhood memories. When I look back at the moments following my accident, I am reminded of how far I have come. Not only did I have to face each day with the remembrance, or lack thereof, of how I had no recollection of my childhood, but any time I looked in the mirror, I had a permanent gap in my smile. A gap that reminds me of how I have a story like no other, and how I have persevered. I didn't always have such a positive outlook on my accident; I used to let it define me. I used to always have my guard up, and I was so fearful to let people know that I was different. Missing your front right tooth as a teenage girl isn't the most attractive thing, and I constantly got bullied for my differences. I felt flawed. I felt like I wasn't enough. I began thinking that life wasn't worth living. This all drastically changed when I accidentally told one of my mom's work friends, "It would be easier if I had just died." I was standing next to my mom when I said this, and I quickly realized my mistake. From here, my mom was so helpful and we began to take steps that allowed me to grow and find that I could use my accident to fuel my fire rather than burn me. One thing that helped me greatly to move forward with my self-confidence and acceptance was to truly embrace who I am, as silly as that sounds. I used to cover my mouth when I talked due to the two gaps in my mouth, but I began sharing with people that I had missing teeth when we would first meet. This helped me embrace vulnerability, and it allowed me to acknowledge the elephant in the room. From here, sometimes I would be asked to share my story, and other times it would simply be acknowledged and we would move on. I quickly found out how some people thought I was so cool and brave for what I had gone through, and I was able to form meaningful relationships with people who never once judged me. I also found that sharing my story became an empowering piece of who I am. I realized that I am different, and that is okay. Once I felt confident enough to share my trauma with people, I quickly realized that being vulnerable is far better than putting a wall up. Before I felt comfortable sharing my story, most of my friendships were surface-level connections where I would not allow myself to fully open up. Once I shared my story or mentioned how I had a tooth I have to take out when I eat, a small part of me felt instantaneously comfortable with the individual I was talking to. From here, I felt compelled to get to know people on a deeper, more meaningful level, and I truly allowed myself to embrace my flaws. I am thankful for all I have gone through, and for the relationships that have grown throughout.

To put it simply, I never realized how difficult it could be to put your own needs on the forefront when the world is constantly rotating around you. Throughout my first year and a half of college, I have found that you can not achieve excellence until you put yourself first. Prior to my first semester last fall, I had aspirations of making time to go to the gym, go on walks, and even play intramural sports. I also told myself that the "Freshman 15" was a myth, and I knew that my mental health would maintain stable... or so I thought. I quickly had a rude awakening and realized that all of that is not as easy as it seems. The pounds added on, my mental health was on a decline, and the food in the student union was not sufficient enough for a healthy diet. After a couple of months of poor decisions that were not beneficial to my mental, physical, and nutritional health, I decided to make a change. I first began by talking with my mom about what I desired to improve. After many conversations, I decided to partake in counseling and psychological services on my university's campus. Thankfully, these were included in my tuition. This decision came rather easily because I knew I needed someone who was a sounding board so that I did not put my friends in any draining situations. Through these services, I was able to talk about my adjustment to college, as well as my feelings of angst and uncertainty with this new, scary life on my own. Next, for my physical health, I made a plan with one of my closest friends to set times together to go for a walk, go to the gym, or do some sort of physical activity. We would schedule times in our planners on when we would go, and we stayed consistent with it till the end of the semester. We both felt better each time after doing a physical activity because we found that it was a great stress-reliever and a break from the never-ending studying. Finally, when I was on the uphill climb of improving my nutritional intake, I made a deal with a friend from back home to where we sent pictures of each food and drink item we consumed for a consistent two weeks. This allowed us to guilt ourselves into not indulging in certain things so that we didn't have to send a picture of it to one another. After a couple of weeks, we agreed that we felt we were on better paths and we discontinued the process. At the end of the day, I realized that it is so important to have accountability partners. With the support of friends and family members, it is much more enjoyable and manageable to make improvements, and I look forward to continuing these habits for years to come.

I would love to live in a world where seeking help for mental health is not ridiculed, stigmatized, and put down. Imagine yourself in this scenario: you are ten years old, and it is the summer before your first year of middle school. You go on an ordinary bike ride with your older brother, and things go downhill ever so quickly. Instead of returning back home to your favorite meal, you instead wake up with doctors standing around you, and you can smell that very distinct “hospital smell.” Unbeknownst to you, you were in an accident. You hope and pray that you will wake up from this nightmare, but as time goes on, you realize that it isn’t just a bad dream. After losing consciousness numerous times, you finally wake up for good, only to wish that you didn’t wake up at all. Now, I am sure by now that you have gathered that this isn’t just some random, made-up story. This is my story, or at least a glimpse of it. Through this accident, I broke my maxillae into my nasal cavity, I lost two permanent teeth, I had a traumatic brain injury, and I lost all of my childhood memories. My life before the age of 10 simply vanished, and I was left with my name, the people I knew, the math I had learned, and a lifetime of regret. Going into 6th grade without a front right tooth does much more damage to a girl than you could ever fathom. Growing up, I was fortunate to live in a household where counseling and psychological services were encouraged. My parents provided my older brothers and me with many options for psychotherapy; however, my siblings and I never entirely took advantage of these opportunities. I like to think that despite how strong and courageous we thought we were, there was still a negative connotation around the word “therapy.” This word, along with many others, has been deemed as a weakness in an individual’s life. My story is a tiny seed in a field of wildflowers because there are many stories that are different than mine and hold their own beauty. Sometimes, though, we get lost, and we feel as though we cannot be seen. We feel as though our stories are irrelevant, and that we should simply “grow up.” This is where we, as a society, need to be better about supporting individuals who need to seek out mental health resources, whether their story is small or not. Each individual deserves to have a safe space where they can be themselves more than ever. I wish we could live in a world where mental health resources are encouraged, and I wish that people could feel proud of themselves for taking initiative and taking care of themselves. Above all else, I believe that we owe ourselves that much.

My best back-to-school tip is to utilize your class time in a wise manner! If you pay attention in your classes and learn the material being taught, you will not have to study as much in your extra time! This will leave you having more time to spend with friends, become involved, and more! Instagram: kendall.jb03

Ever since I was a little girl, my parents took me to church on Sundays, and I went to bible school to learn more about God. I grew up with a strong foundation, but I don't think I ever truly understood my faith. It was something I knew was important to me, but it wasn't something I found on my own, so it was hard to take that first leap when I came to college. I can confidently say that I always knew I believed in God, but it wasn't until I came to college that I truly found him. The beginning of my freshman year of college was tougher than I thought it would be. I was excited about the new adventure, but what I hadn't taken into consideration is all of the changes and adaptability you must face. Going to the Newman center on campus is what allowed me to flourish because I instantaneously felt at home, and I finally knew I was meant to help spread God's word. I went to a catholic college conference second semester that truly opened my eyes to how I can live out my faith in college. After this conference, I became involved in bible study and discipleship, and I was able to learn how I can be a disciple to other people who may not know God. One of my favorite faith-based memories is how during Ash Wednesday, a few of my friends joined me for the service. Sitting with people who I love was truly inspiring, and I felt so empowered to be around them. My faith has allowed me to build connections with people who will always be my shoulder to cry on, as well as people who can always make me laugh. I cannot wait to continue to grow in my faith, and I look forward to seeing how I can make a difference in people's lives in the future with God walking alongside me. In addition to how my faith has helped me in my life, I know it will also help me in my future career aspirations. I am studying psychology with hopes of becoming some type of clinical psychologist or therapist, so my faith will guide me as I help people struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD, etc. God will be someone I can always turn to after meeting with a patient, and I know he will guide me to do what is in the best interest of my patients. When there are times I am struggling with a caseload, my faith will always allow me to be at ease, just as it has throughout my life up to this point. I am excited to see how I can lean on God to help people who struggle with mental illnesses.

I did not know the amount of time it took to start a business or organization when I was a little girl. Of course, all I saw was the butterfly and rainbow bits and pieces on the outside; I had no idea it took hours upon hours and dedication to become an entrepreneur. I thought it was all fun and games until I decided to become a co-founder of my non-profit organization, Glasswing Youth Garden Club. After finding out what the process is behind building up your own organization/business, I gained immense respect for business owners and organization founders. To put it simply, I started an organization in a small, rural town. It makes me wonder how people like Clara Barton (Founder of American Red Cross) and William and Catherine Booth (Founders of Salvation Army) were able to manage to upbring their organizations from just a thought to a world-wide helpful organization. I could only dream I would one day impact the whole world such as these inspiring role-models, but for now, as a 17-year-old girl, I am beyond happy with my progress in my hometown of Guymon, Oklahoma. I have learned many lessons throughout this process. To start off, I learned how time-consuming it can be. This is not bad; it is amazing to look back and realize how you were able to devote so much time to simple, necessary activities such as trimming rose bushes or planting new shrubbery. Another lesson I learned is how there will be people who will try to hold you back. Much like everything else, there were a few people along my journey who seemed to be unhappy with my success. It is not like I was making any money from this, so to see people try to hold me back from serving my community bewildered me. I finally realized how people try to drag you down when you start to excel past them. So, instead of letting that happen, I would invite these individuals to help with our next clean-up or activity. This allowed them to see this life of serving from a different perspective, and I think they finally realized why I do what I do. Finally, I learned the lesson that it is so important to surround yourself with people who have the same interests and passion as yourself. This allows you to truly enjoy your time and get the activity done in a quick, efficient way. Many people throughout this journey have motivated me to succeed, but I would say my mom and nana motivated me the most. Before my nana passed away in 2016, she was the president of a local garden club here in Guymon (Rose Garden Club), as well as the Northwest District Garden Club of Oklahoma. Once she passed, my mom stepped in and filled her role as president of the Rose Garden Club. While starting this club, my mom helped me immensely. She helped me contact the Rose Garden Club, Northwest District Garden Club, Oklahoma Garden Club, Inc., and National Garden Club, Inc. Thanks to her, I had the necessary resources to be able to fall under all four of these clubs. My nana had mentioned how she thought a youth garden club would benefit our community. I wish she could see how right she was! I am sure she is smiling down on me from Heaven as I write this with that little smirk of hers. Starting this organization was one of the best decisions of my life, and I would not trade it for the world.

From what I can gather from my parents, I had a great childhood. I laughed often, I lived fearlessly, and I was ready to conquer the world. This all changed six years ago. At the daring age of 10, my life went downhill ever so quickly… Literally. On an ordinary sunny day, right when the sun was on the edge of disappearing into darkness, I went on a typical bike ride with my older brother, Sean. Since he did not wear his helmet, I opted to not wear mine. As if in a movie, I was racing down a steep, paved hill. At the bottom of this hill, two blocks from my home, the pavement turned to loose gravel. I flipped over my bike’s handlebars and could almost smell my burning flesh as my face scraped across the scorching gravel. My once hot pink and lime green bicycle quickly turned into dismantled parts in a puddle of blood. I wailed with gut-wrenching pain as I felt the world slowly fading away. After that, it was all a blur. All I remember was waking up in a hospital bed in the emergency room of my small, quiet town. My life would forever be changed. From this accident, I had a traumatic brain injury, I broke my maxilla, I lost two permanent teeth, and I lost most of my childhood memories. Fortunately, the doctors informed my parents that if I were wearing my helmet, I would have broken my neck and died. Just like that, I could have been gone. But, of course, I am still here today, and I am learning how to love myself despite the trauma. Preteens have an uncanny knack for being extremely mean to individuals who are different. Here I was, at the age of 10, missing two teeth, missing the skin off half my face, and I had an inexplicable amount of facial swelling. It was not easy going back to school, but I persevered. I came to realize that facial features and a complete set of teeth do not makeup who a person is. It has been a continual process, but I have grown to love myself from the inside out. Life-changing events can either limit you or help you grow, and I chose to bloom like the biggest flower in the world. I am almost completely healed from this accident. If you were to look at me, you would not know what happened; I keep it to myself. The person that accident caused me to be, though, I do not keep to myself. I have chosen to turn the traumatic experience that affected me physically and emotionally into a force that has pushed me to be a hardworking, determined, and trustworthy individual. I have always cared about people, and this accident forced numerous people to care for me. A lot of these people were doctors, and I saw what they could do with a ten-year-old’s future. Because of these doctors, I have realized I, too, want a future in helping people.

What is with females nowadays degrading each other to make themselves feel better? Instead of shooting each other down, we should be building one another up. We should help each other shoot for the sky and accomplish the impossible. My nana and my mom have done just that: they have taught me how to think of the unthought, shoot for my dreams, and make the impossible, possible. I have, and always will have, a tremendous admiration for my nana and mom. These two strong, courageous women have been the role-models of my dreams. Ever since I was a little girl, I saw these two women do an impeccable amount of service to our community. They always seemed to be so discreet about it to where they were not seeking recognition; rather, they were seeking for that feeling one gets once they have accomplished the impossible. Both my mom and nana were immensely involved in garden clubs here in my small hometown. My nana had been president, and once she passed away in 2016, my mom stepped up to the plate to fill her ever-so-big shoes. Although my nana has passed, she has continued to make an impact on my life. Thanks to her thoughts and aspirations, I was able to start up a youth non-profit organization in honor of her. This is Glasswing Youth Garden Club, and our goal is to beautify my hometown, Guymon. Although my nana was unable to help me with this process, my mom was, and she helped me start an organization that I will forever be thankful for. Through watching my mom and my nana be strong, independent women, I learned how to have courage, dignity, and strength. I know that when life knocks me down, I will stand up again taller than ever before. I owe them my thanks and gratitude for allowing me to bloom and flourish into who I am meant to be, and I know I will accomplish my endeavors with great pride. In the future, I hope to become an obstetrician/gynecologist (OB/GYN), and I believe these life lessons will carry through both my education and my career. As an OB/GYN, I know I will need to help countless women with pregnancies, miscarriages, reproductive health concerns, menstrual cycles, rape, etc. When helping with traumatic instances such as miscarriages or rape, I know I will need to be strong for my patients. I will need to have a backbone that can help hold them up, and I hope to be able to lift some of the weight off their feet when they are going through uncertain times. My mom and my nana have impacted my life in such a way that words cannot truly express my gratitude for. I look forward to the day I can be half as strong, fierce, and beautiful on the inside and out as they are, and I look forward to the day I can emulate their actions and words.