Adversity presents itself in a few different ways in my life on a daily basis, but the most prominent adversity that I have faced is that of mental health, both mine and others'. Mental health is important to me as a student because I have watched others struggle immensely with it as I have as well, and the devastating impacts of cripplingly low mental health have affected me in ways I would not wish on anyone. My community in small-town Montana faced a catastrophic suicide cluster in 2021-2022. While I had struggled immensely with my mental health previously (I had attempted to be one of those whose suicide attempts had worked), this further opened my eyes to the effects of poor mental health. Watching not only individuals or families grieve the loss of my classmates and friends but also the whole community that didn’t even have personal relationships with them moved me so deeply. For months, as this problem persisted, it felt as though there was a large black cloud in the sky. The ominous feeling of going to school, sitting next to an empty desk that my friend Ellie or my funny classmate Zachary would sit in broke my heart. Going to work and seeing my favorite coworker Spencer's name on the schedule but knowing that he wouldn't come in moved me in ways I can't explain. Seeing something funny at the store that I knew my friend Gracie would love and taking a picture to send to her and then realizing that no, Gracie won't see it, and she never will is something that still tears me up to think about. Each individual name physically sends a pang into my heart. I will never see some of my friends again. Though it was over a year ago, it still feels as fresh as it did the days I found out. Writing about this leaves a pit in my stomach, and the pain does not go away. Remembering the fact that they will not come back is something that never, ever gets easier. I do not only grieve for myself, their families, the rest of their friends, our school, their workplaces, and the community, but the world as a whole. The rest of the population will never get to experience the light and love that these souls brought to everyone around them, and for the world, I grieve so deeply. I advocate for mental health by participating in my school's mental health program (P.A.T.H., or peers advocating towards health) that puts on various events that advocate mental health through various activities, such as yoga, painting, dancing, coloring, or group therapy mental health nights (to name a few). A small action that I took to advocate for mental health in myself and among my family is to get a small semicolon tattoo on my finger. This is a popular tattoo that represents suicide prevention (or just advocacy for those struggling with depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation). It isn't a grandiose gesture, but it is a reminder to myself that I have overcome numerous attempts to end my life, and I am still here. It is a gentle reminder in my family and my home that we are all trying our best, and it even serves as a reminder for us to check in on each other's mental well-being. Though this won't bring my friends back, I hope it will prevent other's friends and family members from feeling the way that possesses them to take their own life.

Mental health is important to me as a student because I have watched others struggle immensely with it as I have as well, and the devastating impacts of cripplingly low mental health have affected me in ways I would not wish on anyone. My community in small-town Montana faced a catastrophic suicide cluster in 2021-2022. While I had struggled immensely with my mental health previously (I had attempted to be one of those whose suicide attempts had worked), this further opened my eyes to the effects of poor mental health. Watching not only individuals or families grieve the loss of my classmates and friends but also the whole community that didn’t even have personal relationships with them moved me so deeply. For months, as this problem persisted, it felt as though there was a large black cloud in the sky. The ominous feeling of going to school, sitting next to an empty desk that my friend Ellie or my funny classmate Zachary would sit in broke my heart. Going to work and seeing my favorite coworker Spencer's name on the schedule but knowing that he wouldn't come in moved me in ways I can't explain. Seeing something funny at the store that I knew my friend Gracie would love and taking a picture to send to her and then realizing that no, Gracie won't see it, and she never will is something that still tears me up to think about. Each individual name physically sends a pang into my heart. I will never see some of my friends again. Though it was over a year ago, it still feels as fresh as it did the days I found out. Writing about this leaves a pit in my stomach, and the pain does not go away. Remembering the fact that they will not come back is something that never, ever gets easier. I do not only grieve for myself, their families, the rest of their friends, our school, their workplaces, and the community, but the world as a whole. The rest of the population will never get to experience the light and love that these souls brought to everyone around them, and for the world, I grieve so deeply. I advocate for mental health by participating in my school's mental health program (P.A.T.H., or peers advocating towards health) that puts on various events that advocate mental health through various activities, such as yoga, painting, dancing, coloring, or group therapy mental health nights (to name a few). A small action that I took to advocate for mental health in myself and among my family is to get a small semicolon tattoo on my finger. This is a popular tattoo that represents suicide prevention (or just advocacy for those struggling with depression, anxiety, or suicidal ideation). It isn't a grandiose gesture, but it is a reminder to myself that I have overcome numerous attempts to end my life, and I am still here. It is a gentle reminder in my family and my home that we are all trying our best, and it even serves as a reminder for us to check in on each other's mental well-being. Though this won't bring my friends back, I hope it will prevent other's friends and family members from feeling the way that possesses them to take their own life.

I plan on being an elementary school teacher. I believe that each and every one of the educators that the world has right now is making an impact on our children, with arguably every single one making significant strides and positive differences in the lives of the developing youth. I have always had an interest in working with children in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child. Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. From the various psychology, human development, and childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that most everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career but their self-esteem and even their outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well. One thing that drives me is a specific moment: the moment that I realized that my involvement truly made a difference. I spent around one hour each day at a local elementary school. I had a first-grade reading buddy, and working with him was a delight. He was far below proficiency when I began working with him, only being able to recognize the "s" and "t" sounds. He could not identify any letters by name, struggled with the sounds of the letters, and could not put letters together to make even a simple word (such as "at" or "go"). Through lots of one-on-one time, he was slowly able to near literacy. While I will take absolutely none of the credit for getting him there (it was his wonderful teacher who put in hours and hours outside of school to work with him-- she's truly an angel!), I do think that the close attention and tutoring that he received while working with me helped him flourish. The emphasis and attention that I put on certain tactics to help him learn and stay focused were needed, as it is incredibly hard for one person to give that to every child in a full classroom where everybody learns differently. I got the privilege to get to know his learning styles, what helps him focus, what encourages him, and what reinforces his desire to learn. While it was a long, tedious road at times with his attention and behavioral issues, we formed an unbreakable bond. He has a precious soul, and his resilience through the struggle of reading and recognition is truly inspiring. It has helped me reflect on my own learning and recognize each unique learning style.

Mental illness has affected me both directly and indirectly. I plan to implement change through de-stigmatization and more awareness. Personally, I have struggled with my mental health for years. Suicidal thoughts and tendencies have plagued me from an incredibly young age, with the first thought of “what is the point?” at the tender age of seven. I often felt hopeless and without purpose, with the all-too-familiar feeling of despair washing over me each and every day. Through multiple failed suicide attempts, I faced the cold harsh fact: this is my reality. I have to live with this, but it is not something that I need to look at in a hindering way. I am not doomed to live a life of dread and misery. Though it may be hard, I can choose to be alive every day. From that sobering moment on, that’s how I started to look at life: each day a choice to be alive. Though this may sound rather dismal, having to choose to be alive every day, it was an aid during that time. I knew that suicide was an option, and while that may sound as though it is an “escape plan”, it was comforting in a way. I can’t quite explain the depths of my thoughts when I was in the deepest part of my despair, but I can say this: though I am not fully “healed” or “fixed”, and I don’t think I ever will be, as there is much more to it than that, I believe that each day is a blessing to be alive. Though sometimes my mind does go right back to the places that I have fought so hard to get out of, suicide is no longer my first choice. In fact, I am ecstatic to announce that it is no longer an option at all. As I previously mentioned, some may view suicide as an “easy way out”, though it is anything but. In my community, a suicide cluster was at its peak in 2021. It started with my friend Zachary taking his life on June seventh of that year. As devastating and shattering as one death by suicide is, it didn’t stop there. Throughout the next year, a record number of my very own peers took their own lives. It was a truly tragic time for us as a community. Everyone was affected deeply by this, even those who had not known any of the students personally. I would not be truthful if I didn’t say that each suicide, along with being a stab right into my heart, tempted me to take my own life. I am eternally grateful that I am still here, but the pain of 2021 and our community’s losses still affect me deeply. I strongly believe that awareness as well as information about mental illness needs to be spread. Though our community has faced a myriad of devastating deaths by suicide, it does not mean that everyone is educated about it. In fact, I know people personally who are ignorant and still believe that it is “weak” to end one’s own life, and one must “power through it” and “tough it out” while dealing with mental health. Knowledge is power, in the broadest sense as well as dealing with mental health. The more someone knows, the more that one realizes that they are not alone, nor should they take their own life. Information about how to help someone who is hurting needs to be shared. It is absolutely crucial that everyone knows that they are not alone, and there is hope.

The positive impact that community service has is the driving force behind my personal involvement. The people who are positively affected make every bit of work more than worth it. I truly believe that even lots of minuscule changes can impact a large change in a community and a community's environment. One period of time that I am fond of in my time spent volunteering is my work at the elementary school. I had a first-grade reading buddy, and working with him was a delight. He was far below proficiency when I began working with him, only being able to recognize the "s" and "t" sounds. He could not identify any letters by name, struggled with the sounds of the letters, and could not put letters together to make even a simple word (such as "at" or "go"). Through lots of one-on-one time, he was slowly able to near literacy. While I will take absolutely none of the credit for getting him there (it was his wonderful teacher who put in hours and hours outside of school to work with him-- she's truly an angel!), I do think that the close attention and tutoring that he received while working with me helped him flourish. The emphasis and attention that I put on certain tactics to help him learn and stay focused were needed, as it is incredibly hard for one person to give that to every child in a full classroom where everybody learns differently. I got the privilege to get to know his learning styles, what helps him focus, what encourages him, and what reinforces his desire to learn. While it was a long, tedious road at times with his attention and behavioral issues, we formed an unbreakable bond. He has a precious soul, and his resilience through the struggle of reading and recognition is truly inspiring. It has helped me reflect on my own learning and recognize each unique learning style. Another valuable experience that I have gotten while volunteering on Thanksgiving is serving food to those who didn't have a place to eat or people to spend the holiday with. Though I had occasionally donated food to the local food pantry, I didn't quite know what it would be like to be the one to serve the food to those who needed it. The experience opened my eyes to each separate person living in the small community that we live in. Every person has a story and background, and lots of people get overlooked, even in a seemingly tight-knit community. I have tried to influence change through small gestures such as these. I am aware that it is no grandiose donation of money or insurmountable deed by spending a few hours a week helping out, but it does make an ounce of difference, and I truly believe that each ounce counts. If everybody gave an ounce of effort, time, and energy, the world truly would be a better place.

My personal experience with mental illness has influenced my future and relationships in impactful ways. It started when I was very young, too young (though is there ever an "old enough" when it comes to the desire of taking one's own life?). The first time I was ever afflicted with a thought that this life wasn't worth living was when I was seven. I vividly remember the stairs that I was walking up when the thought struck me: what is the point? This kind of thinking was terrifying to me, as I had never thought about the point of life. I had thought about my next day in second grade, what my after school snack would be, what my favorite color was, and other trivial things of the sort. At the time, the thought struck me with such force that I had to sit down on one of the stairs, having no motivation to stand up. I tried to think to the future. What is the point? Finishing second grade, finishing elementary school, and then the rest of school? Then getting married, and having kids? Then we die? It seemed quite dismal to me. As I sat on those stairs, my mind scrambled to come up with a purpose. Love? Yes, it seems as though love should be enough of a reason to be alive. But I thought of all of my family members who I loved dearly, and the thought didn't go away. The deep pit in my stomach made me feel sick. The grim view that I had so suddenly adopted stuck with me for quite some time, though throughout the years I have worked on taming down everything in me that tells me I am better off dead. Virtually every relationship through my adolescent years was deeply affected by my own declining mental health as well as others'. Throughout my middle school years, the battle with my mind affected my friendships, and I often regret the way that I went about everything. At the time, I was harming myself physically. It was the only way my underdeveloped mind could process my emotions and cope, as unhealthy as it was. The friends that I had at the time were incredibly supportive and tried their best to help me out, but being as we were so young, they didn't know how to help me properly. This also exposed them to the cruel harsh world of another person's suffering, which was premature in some ways. The suicide attempts that took place in my own life put a strain on the relationships I had, as people in my life would take things personally (I'm not enough? Is it my fault? I'm not a reason enough to stay? et cetera). It made some relationships stronger and some disintegrate quickly, as I could not properly pour into a friendship as well as others could. The family relations were drastically strained and put through a lot, and there are long-lasting effects that are still present today. I obviously cannot claim that I know the reason to any of this suffering, and I can't say I understand any of this more than I did before. However, I have something that I didn't have before: hope. I truly aspire to be the reason that someone else can have hope in the future as well.

I plan on being an elementary school teacher. I believe that each and every one of the educators that the world has right now is making an impact on our children, with arguably every single one making significant strides and positive differences in the lives of the developing youth. I have always had an interest in working with children in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child. Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. From the various psychology, human development, and childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that most everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career but their self-esteem and even their outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well. One thing that drives me is a specific moment: the moment that I realized that my involvement truly made a difference. I spent around one hour each day at a local elementary school. I had a first-grade reading buddy, and working with him was a delight. He was far below proficiency when I began working with him, only being able to recognize the "s" and "t" sounds. He could not identify any letters by name, struggled with the sounds of the letters, and could not put letters together to make even a simple word (such as "at" or "go"). Through lots of one-on-one time, he was slowly able to near literacy. While I will take absolutely none of the credit for getting him there (it was his wonderful teacher who put in hours and hours outside of school to work with him-- she's truly an angel!), I do think that the close attention and tutoring that he received while working with me helped him flourish. The emphasis and attention that I put on certain tactics to help him learn and stay focused were needed, as it is incredibly hard for one person to give that to every child in a full classroom where everybody learns differently. I got the privilege to get to know his learning styles, what helps him focus, what encourages him, and what reinforces his desire to learn. While it was a long, tedious road at times with his attention and behavioral issues, we formed an unbreakable bond. He has a precious soul, and his resilience through the struggle of reading and recognition is truly inspiring. It has helped me reflect on my own learning and recognize each unique learning style.

The dream version of my future self is someone who is compassionate towards those around her, spreading love, positivity, kindness, and knowledge.

To me, leadership is leading by example. It is showing up when no one else will, being an example for others to follow, having integrity, and caring about each and every part of the integral team that you're working on. This "team" could vary drastically and the sense of leadership could as well depending on one's situation. However, no matter what kind of team one is on, the application of good leadership can be used in each and every scenario. Whether it be a coach leading a team of young athletes, a boss demonstrating how to perform a certain task, a teacher presenting materials to their class and modeling a good example, or any other scenario, a leader helps promote a sense of community throughout the group. While everyone in a group may not be equal, say on the same pay level or skill level, everyone deserves to be shown love, appreciation, and acceptance for their work. I am pursuing elementary education as a career path. I strongly believe with everything in me that a good teacher leads by example. While students do absorb a lot of information through the basic teaching of material, as most would think, children are impressionable. They learn by observation more than anything. If a child is shown day in and day out how to treat their peers with kindness, integrity, and appreciation, then they model that behavior for others. Children learn from their peers, mimicking their classmates (whether it is consciously or not) to fit into the group. A teacher can foster a sense of community, equality, and appreciation for each individual voice and student. Each life is incredibly valuable, with a name and a story behind each student. Leadership is important in every aspect and every scenario. However, it holds a special weight when it comes to educating our youth. The way that they see their role models and authority figures act and treat others is the majority of the information that they consume. If they see a teacher who treats them and their peers with kindness and a sense of value for each student, then they will emulate that and show kindness to those in their life as well. The way a teacher models themselves for their class of impressionable young lives dictates a large amount of their future, whether we acknowledge it or not. A good leader demonstrates leading by example, which I strive to do in the future. I truly believe that I can demonstrate leadership in my future, showing children not only how to learn in the classroom, but how to treat those around them with love, dignity, and respect.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!” The little playground rhyme may ring true with others, but not with me. My extreme sensitivity has been a blessing and a curse throughout my life. This has led me to be kind, which is the characteristic that I value most in myself (as cliché and generic as it may sound). From a young age, I've been quite sensitive, which has been a blessing and a curse. I feel things in such a way that every single emotion is felt so thoroughly and painstakingly intensely throughout my being. Every feeling comes with a set of physical responses. Even witnessing something happen to someone can either put a smile on my face and a flutter in my heart for the rest of the day or twist my stomach into knots and feel like flaming arrows going into my gut. Everything affects me so deeply in a way that is hard to describe to others. How can I tell people that the way they looked at me for a millisecond dictated the trajectory of the rest of my day? In my life, it's the little things that count. Sometimes, the "little things" are so small that they may go undetected by others. However, every little thing is on my radar. A smile from a stranger? That's my will to live for the week. A passive aggressive comment from a coworker? I'm questioning my existence. Though this is seemingly extreme, it is the extent that I think of things. One thing that my extreme sensitivity has taught me is the value and importance of kindness. Not only am I sensitive when it affects me, but also in regards to others. My sensitivity has led me to feel everything that others feel, even when it's happening to them and has no effect on my life, directly or indirectly. I wish I could explain this, but I just have a deeply-rooted desire for everyone to be happy (people-pleasing, hello - but that's a story for another time), and it causes me physical discomfort to know that there could be one person in the same room as me that isn't happy. This is where my kindness comes in. I can feel things that others go through, and this leads me to have compassion towards them. Another thing that I have been taught, unrelated to my sensitive nature, is how cruel human beings can be. Knowing all of the harsh and scathing things that people are capable of doing, this drives me further to be kind to others. You never know what others are going through, and the only thing that you can be to them is kind. Though this is nothing revolutionary, it is something that everyone could benefit from hearing frequently. People don't always display what they are going through. The barista that makes your coffee every morning may be in an abusive relationship and your smile could be a small reason that she chooses to continue every day. Your coworker that has the brightest smile could be going through a custody battle for her kids, and the silly jokes you tell her might be a break from the constant hell she faces every day. While not every person that you encounter on a day-to-day basis is going through a life-shattering situation, everyone benefits from kindness. Even if someone is having a good day, a smile and compliment from a stranger can only make it better. Kindness is not always grand gestures, but small conscious decisions to show compassion to others.

I am pursuing elementary education as a career path. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to work with kids in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child. Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. From the various psychology, human development, and childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that most everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career but their self-esteem and even outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well. I also believe that I have what it takes to pursue this as a career because of my sensitivity and kindness. Though sensitivity is most commonly viewed as a weakness, it is a strength when it comes to working with children. I am sensitive to people's feelings and needs, and I care incredibly deeply about people. The positive role models that children have in their lives can influence the trajectory of their future, and I would love to be a positive figure in a young person's life. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that everyone has incredible potential, and all it takes is someone to unlock it. I strive to be the light and encouragement that children need in order to develop and be the best person that they can be.

One book that I would have everyone read is Kissing Doorknobs by Terry Spencer Hesser. It is insightful to the daily experience of living with OCD, written from the first-person perspective of a teenage girl, Tara. Though it is a fictional book, it is a real view of daily life facing the impulses and seemingly uncontrollable compulsions that one is faced with living with OCD. Throughout the novel, the OCD that Tara is living with runs undiagnosed, infuriating those in her life. Her friends are unfamiliar with why Tara is acting so strangely, and her odd behaviors push them away, alienating and further isolating young Tara. Her strange habits and urges drive her mother into violent rampages. I believe that it is incredibly important to read this book because it sheds light on misconceptions and stereotypes of living with OCD (disrupting the common narrative that it is just "liking things to be clean" and "being controlling about weird things"). It is unexplainable urges, torturing those who live with the disorder. It is a much more complex disorder than most think, which Tara depicts hauntingly and beautifully throughout the book, expressing the "quirks" that she feels. These quirks, as she calls them, include counting the sidewalk cracks every day on her way to and from school, praying aloud when someone around her curses, and kissing her fingers after touching doorknobs (which is the book's namesake). Though they sound odd and random, these and many other urges completely control and seemingly ruin Tara's life. She is at the mercy of these rituals and cannot seem to deviate from performing them. These quirks slowly start to take over her life, with Tara feeling trapped and cornered by these issues. In the end, after attending therapy, Tara learns that the urges that are ruining her life are OCD compulsions. She starts her journey of healing and coping with the disorder that she has. It has a hopeful note and imparts to the reader that even though you may feel as though you are drowning in a problem much larger than yourself, you can still get help and live a rewarding life.

The positive impact that community service has is the driving force behind my personal involvement. The people who are positively affected make every bit of work more than worth it. I truly believe that even lots of minuscule changes can impact a large change in a community and a community's environment. One period of time that I am fond of in my time spent volunteering is my work at the elementary school. I had a first-grade reading buddy, and working with him was a delight. He was far below proficiency when I began working with him, only being able to recognize the "s" and "t" sounds. He could not identify any letters by name, struggled with the sounds of the letters, and could not put letters together to make even a simple word (such as "at" or "go"). Through lots of one-on-one time, he was slowly able to near literacy. While I will take absolutely none of the credit for getting him there (it was his wonderful teacher who put in hours and hours outside of school to work with him-- she's truly an angel!), I do think that the close attention and tutoring that he received while working with me helped him flourish. The emphasis and attention that I put on certain tactics to help him learn and stay focused were needed, as it is incredibly hard for one person to give that to every child in a full classroom where everybody learns differently. I got the privilege to get to know his learning styles, what helps him focus, what encourages him, and what reinforces his desire to learn. While it was a long, tedious road at times with his attention and behavioral issues, we formed an unbreakable bond. He has a precious soul, and his resilience through the struggle of reading and recognition is truly inspiring. It has helped me reflect on my own learning and recognize each unique learning style. Another valuable experience that I have gotten while volunteering on Thanksgiving is serving food to those who didn't have a place to eat or people to spend the holiday with. Though I had occasionally donated food to the local food pantry, I didn't quite know what it would be like to be the one to serve the food to those who needed it. The experience opened my eyes to each separate person living in the small community that we live in. Every person has a story and background, and lots of people get overlooked, even in a seemingly tight-knit community. I have tried to influence change through small gestures such as these. I am aware that it is no grandiose donation of money or insurmountable deed by spending a few hours a week helping out, but it does make an ounce of difference, and I truly believe that each ounce counts. If everybody gave an ounce of effort, time, and energy, the world truly would be a better place.

My educational goal is to get my bachelor's degree and start a career in elementary education. An obstacle that I, along with many others, have faced is my mental health (or lack thereof). It started when I was very young, too young (though is there ever an "old enough" when it comes to the desire of taking one's own life?). The first time I was ever afflicted with the thought that this life wasn't worth living was when I was seven. I vividly remember the stairs that I was walking up when the thought struck me: what is the point? This kind of thinking was terrifying to me, as I had never thought about the point of life. I had thought about my next day in second grade, what my after-school snack would be, what my favorite color was, and other trivial things of the sort. At the time, the thought struck me with such force that I had to sit down on one of the stairs, having no motivation to stand up. I tried to think of the future. What is the point? Finishing second grade, finishing elementary school, and then the rest of school? Then getting married, and having kids? Then we die? It seemed quite dismal to me. As I sat on those stairs, my mind scrambled to come up with a purpose. Love? Yes, it seems as though love should be enough of a reason to be alive. But I thought of all of my family members who I loved dearly, and the thought didn't go away. My aunt, cousins, my own immediate family... I loved them all dearly, but the dark sudden feeling remained.The deep pit in my stomach made me feel sick. The grim view that I had so suddenly adopted stuck with me for quite some time, though throughout the years I have worked on taming down everything in me that tells me I am better off dead. Though this seems as though it is rather dismal, it has helped me realize just how precious and truly special each individual life is. This is a big factor as to why being an elementary educator is something I am passionate about. I love children, and I think it is very important to inspire and educate our youth not only for their futures but for generations to come. I believe that the more we pour love, acceptance, and kindness into young minds, the more they will be able to pour it into others. Though this is a rather basic human concept, it is so often overlooked. I believe that I will be able to be a teacher that inspires change in at least one life. I hope that I can show love to children and make a positive impact on their life, whether that includes teaching them to read, making them feel empowered in an endeavor they aren't supported in at home, providing a safe/comfortable space to those who don't have it, or just being an encouraging adult that makes school a tad bit easier to handle for some. I truly believe that with love, care, and nurturing right from the start in children's educational careers, we can start them off on the right foot and hopefully help them to feel so cared for that they don't second-guess their existence or purpose. With the reminder that they are enough and worthy of being alive, we can implement change in our youth to shape the way that they view themselves as well as their relation and impact on this world.

The positive impact that community service has is the driving force behind my personal involvement. The people who are positively affected make every bit of work more than worth it. I truly believe that even lots of minuscule changes can impact a large change in a community and a community's environment. One period of time that I am fond of in my time spent volunteering is my work at the elementary school. I had a first-grade reading buddy, and working with him was a delight. He was far below proficiency when I began working with him, only being able to recognize the "s" and "t" sounds. He could not identify any letters by name, struggled with the sounds of the letters, and could not put letters together to make even a simple word (such as "at" or "go"). Through lots of one-on-one time, he was slowly able to near literacy. While I will take absolutely none of the credit for getting him there (it was his wonderful teacher who put in hours and hours outside of school to work with him-- she's truly an angel!), I do think that the close attention and tutoring that he received while working with me helped him flourish. The emphasis and attention that I put on certain tactics to help him learn and stay focused were needed, as it is incredibly hard for one person to give that to every child in a full classroom where everybody learns differently. I got the privilege to get to know his learning styles, what helps him focus, what encourages him, and what reinforces his desire to learn. While it was a long, tedious road at times with his attention and behavioral issues, we formed an unbreakable bond. He has a precious soul, and his resilience through the struggle of reading and recognition is truly inspiring. It has helped me reflect on my own learning and recognize each unique learning style. Another valuable experience that I have gotten while volunteering on Thanksgiving is serving food to those who didn't have a place to eat or people to spend the holiday with. Though I had occasionally donated food to the local food pantry, I didn't quite know what it would be like to be the one to serve the food to those who needed it. The experience opened my eyes to each separate person living in the small community that we live in. Every person has a story and background, and lots of people get overlooked, even in a seemingly tight-knit community. I have tried to influence change through small gestures such as these. I am aware that it is no grandiose donation of money or insurmountable deed by spending a few hours a week helping out, but it does make an ounce of difference, and I truly believe that each ounce counts. If everybody gave an ounce of effort, time, and energy, the world truly would be a better place.

Mental illness has affected me both directly and indirectly through my own experiences as well as the experiences of those in my community. I have struggled with my mental health for years. Suicidal thoughts and tendencies have plagued me from an incredibly young age, with the first thought of “what is the point?” at the tender age of seven. I often felt hopeless and without purpose, with the all-too-familiar feeling of despair washing over me each day. Through multiple failed suicide attempts, I faced the cold harsh fact: this is my reality. I have to live with this, but it is not something that I need to look at in a hindering way. I am not doomed to live a life of dread and misery. Though it may be hard, I can choose to be alive every day. From that sobering moment on, that’s how I started to look at life: each day a choice to be alive. Though this may sound rather dismal, having to choose to be alive every day, it was an aid during that time. I knew that suicide was an option, and while that may sound as though it is an “escape plan”, it was comforting in a way. I can’t quite explain the depths of my thoughts when I was in the deepest part of my despair, but I can say this: though I am not fully “healed” or “fixed”, and I don’t think I ever will be (as there is much more to it than that) I believe that each day is a blessing to be alive. Though sometimes my mind does go right back to the places that I have fought so hard to get out of, suicide is no longer my first choice. In fact, I am ecstatic to announce that it is no longer an option at all. As I previously mentioned, some may view suicide as an “easy way out”, though it is anything but. In my community, a suicide cluster was at its peak in 2021. It started with my friend Zachary taking his life on June seventh of that year. As devastating and shattering as one death by suicide is, it didn’t stop there. Throughout the next year, a record number of my very own peers took their own lives. It was a truly tragic time for us as a community. Everyone was affected deeply by this, even those who had not known any of the students personally. I would not be truthful if I didn’t say that each suicide, along with being a stab right into my heart, tempted me to take my own life. I am eternally grateful that I am still here, but the pain of 2021 and our community’s losses still affect me deeply. I strongly believe that awareness as well as information about mental illness needs to be spread. Though our community has faced a myriad of devastating deaths by suicide, it does not mean that everyone is educated about it. In fact, I know people personally who are ignorant and still believe that it is “weak” to end one’s own life, and one must “power through it” and “tough it out” while dealing with mental health. Knowledge is power, in the broadest sense as well as dealing with mental health. The more someone knows, the more that one realizes that they are not alone, nor should they take their own life. Information about how to help someone who is hurting needs to be shared. It is absolutely crucial that everyone knows that they are not alone, and there is hope.

Choosing to be alive every day might not seem like a chore to everyone, and maybe it is even shocking to some to hear that others view life that way. However, the harsh and bitter world that I woke up to every day for years in the depths of the worst of my depression taught me that the only person that can help me is myself. I came to the realization that sometimes, the only way to get out of your deep hole of despair is throwing away the shovel and furiously clamor for the footholds and handholds that you can find, few and far between as they may be. Now, I know that I should be grateful for every breath. It’s a gift to wake up every morning, and lots of people don’t get the chance to see another day. However, though I know in my mind that this life is a blessing, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. Dare I say, some days I wished that I didn’t wake up at all. Though this sounds dismal, it has led me not only to realize more about myself but also about others. I became able to recognize that much like I was the only person who could help myself, in the same way, you can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. I’ll put it bluntly: I was suicidal. I am not now fully “fixed”, “healed”, or whatever word people typically use when thinking about mental health issues. But I have dragged myself through each day, knowing that I could end my life at any moment. Though it may sound twisted, it was oddly reassuring knowing that there was a way out at any moment. Knowing that, I pushed through, suicide on the back burner. My goals have changed and gotten stronger throughout my struggle with my mental health. I have always wanted to pursue education, but throughout my experience, I believe it is especially important to be present for our future and their young minds. So many people, just like myself, don't have anyone to turn to. So many of our youth feel alone in this world, and I would like to be able to change that. As a future educator, I would like to be someone's support person. A teacher who pours into students, who gives love and support, and who not only teaches what it's like to be kind but shows it as well. I want to be the person students feel as though they can turn to when they're feeling that they're in a hole so deep, the only way out is to lie down and never wake up. I believe with my whole heart that I can impart to these children that suicide is never the answer. Now, I am glad to announce that no longer is ending my life the first thing that I think of when entering into a tailspin or feeling that sickening, nauseating pit of depression in my stomach. I have learned to help myself through thick and thin, pulling myself through when there was quite literally nobody else around me and seemingly nothing to live for. I genuinely don’t believe that the younger me could have ever imagined that we would have made it this far, or even made it at all. But here I am, living to tell the tale. I hope with all of my heart that I can be the reason that someone else can choose to be alive. I hope to be the reason someone chooses to stay.

I am pursuing elementary education as a career path. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to work with kids in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child (besides being a pony, of course). Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. From the various psychology, human development, and childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that most everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble, and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career but their self-esteem and even outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well. I also believe that I have what it takes to pursue this as a career because of my sensitivity and kindness. Though sensitivity is most commonly viewed as a weakness, it is a strength when it comes to working with children. I am sensitive to people's feelings and needs, and I care incredibly deeply about people. The positive role models that children have in their lives can influence the trajectory of their future, and I would love to be a positive figure in a young person's life. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that everyone has incredible potential, and all it takes is someone to unlock it. I strive to be the light and encouragement that children need in order to develop and be the best person that they can be.

My personal experience with mental illness has influenced my future and relationships in impactful ways. It started when I was very young, too young (though is there ever an "old enough" when it comes to the desire of taking one's own life?). The first time I was ever afflicted with a thought that this life wasn't worth living was when I was seven. I vividly remember the stairs that I was walking up when the thought struck me: what is the point? This kind of thinking was terrifying to me, as I had never thought about the point of life. I had thought about my next day in second grade, what my after school snack would be, what my favorite color was, and other trivial things of the sort. At the time, the thought struck me with such force that I had to sit down on one of the stairs, having no motivation to stand up. I tried to think to the future. What is the point? Finishing second grade, finishing elementary school, and then the rest of school? Then getting married, and having kids? Then we die? It seemed quite dismal to me. As I sat on those stairs, my mind scrambled to come up with a purpose. Love? Yes, it seems as though love should be enough of a reason to be alive. But I thought of all of my family members who I loved dearly, and the thought didn't go away. The deep pit in my stomach made me feel sick. The grim view that I had so suddenly adopted stuck with me for quite some time, though throughout the years I have worked on taming down everything in me that tells me I am better off dead. Virtually every relationship through my adolescent years was deeply affected by my own declining mental health as well as others'. Throughout my middle school years, the battle with my mind affected my friendships, and I often regret the way that I went about everything. At the time, I was harming myself physically. It was the only way my underdeveloped mind could process my emotions and cope, as unhealthy as it was. The friends that I had at the time were incredibly supportive and tried their best to help me out, but being as we were so young, they didn't know how to help me properly. This also exposed them to the cruel harsh world of another person's suffering, which was premature in some ways. The suicide attempts that took place in my own life put a strain on the relationships I had, as people in my life would take things personally (I'm not enough? Is it my fault? I'm not a reason enough to stay? et cetera). It made some relationships stronger and some disintegrate quickly, as I could not properly pour into a friendship as well as others could. The family relations were drastically strained and put through a lot, and there are long-lasting effects that are still present today. I obviously cannot claim that I know the reason to any of this suffering, and I can't say I understand any of this more than I did before. However, I have something that I didn't have before: hope. I truly aspire to be the reason that someone else can have hope in the future as well.

I am pursuing elementary education as a career path. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to work with kids in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child (besides being a pony, of course). Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. From the various psychology, human development, and childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that most everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble, and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career but their self-esteem and even outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well. I also believe that I have what it takes to pursue this as a career because of my sensitivity and kindness. Though sensitivity is most commonly viewed as a weakness, it is a strength when it comes to working with children. I am sensitive to people's feelings and needs, and I care incredibly deeply about people. The positive role models that children have in their lives can influence the trajectory of their future, and I would love to be a positive figure in a young person's life. I truly believe with every fiber of my being that everyone has incredible potential, and all it takes is someone to unlock it. I strive to be the light and encouragement that children need in order to develop and be the best person that they can be.

I am passionate about spreading love, kindness, and speaking life into the next generation. I love children, and I always have. I have a deep passion for helping people achieve their potential, and I believe strongly that everyone has the potential to be an incredible human being. It is up to each individual to decide whether or not they want to tap into that full potential. For some, it takes more work than others, but it is still achievable. No one is ever too far gone to redeem themselves. All it needs to help a child reach their full potential is some hard work and encouragement from an outside source. I've learned that people, children especially, tend to give up on themselves, particularly when others give up on them. I work at a daycare currently, and seeing the influence that some children's’ parents have on them can be heartbreaking. Some of the kids tend to be a little bit more of a “problem child” in certain settings, which leads people (their parents, teachers at school, other influential adults) to give up on them or become easily frustrated. The goal changes from helping them develop and blossom into a kind, upstanding person into just making sure they don’t wreak havoc on the classroom or the home. While this is incredibly understandable, the undoubtedly difficult and strenuous work that goes into powering through the troubled stages of a child’s development is what will help them tap into their full potential, growing into the helpful and kind person that everyone can be. I am more than willing to go through the hard work to make sure that children know how loved and valued they are. They can truly be who they want to be, reaching their full potential through encouragement and love. I have what it takes to overcome obstacles that will come my way because of the deep-rooted passion that I possess. I am not pursuing a job with children on a whim, it isn’t just because I don’t know what else to do, it’s not because it sounds nice, it’s because I truly believe in each and every child, and I have a deep desire to help each child reach their full potential. I have overcome various struggles in my life, and I believe that if the drive is greater than the fear, then failure is not an option. Even if something doesn’t turn out the way that it was intended to, that does not mean that it was a failure or unsuccessful. The drive to be a teacher, in my case, is a deep-rooted drive that I have and I will continue to pursue it despite obstacles that I may face. In the future, I will give back to the community in my career by serving those of all walks of life. An educator does not get a choice of their students or the students’ backgrounds, for obvious reasons, and it is a beautiful thing that children can all go to a communal place and get the same education regardless of their background or their situation. Each individual can have access to a loving environment and a safe place to learn and exercise their minds and the new skills they are learning. I think that each teacher serves their students, not only in the educational sense but the emotional sense as well with love, kindness, patience, and support.

Writing is an incredibly important outlet for me, as verbally articulating myself can be a challenge sometimes. I have all these ideas soaring around in my head, all lined up and making complete sense. However, when it comes to expressing them, I tend to falter. At times, I don't even begin explaining what's on my mind because I know that what I end up saying will be an oversimplification of my thought process, or I won't even get my ideas across. I don't know what it is, but forming the words as I try to think of them can be very difficult. I believe this is why I have always loved writing, with the lack of a hurry-hurry-hurry emphasis that there is on speaking. I don't have to worry about who is listening, and I can thoughtfully express my ideas through the reflective and contemplative nature of writing. Seeing the words helps me as well, with the visual representation of how they look and sound. (I've also always had sensory issues in some capacity, so as I'm writing this, I am starting to realize that those may have to do something with each other.) Though sometimes I may sound wordy when I write, say, an essay or a research paper, I feel as though it is a more accurate representation of how I think. The way that words can fit together when taking time to think about them is a truly wonderful thing. The different combinations of syllables, sentence structures, and emphasis on different words that are present while writing are wonderful aspects of the written word. When I write, words don't have to awkwardly be stuttered out, with the concern of how they will be received by those I am talking to. I also enjoy expressing my feelings through poetry, which is an incredibly helpful tool to myself while processing my feelings. It helps me to put what I'm thinking to words, and not only that; but also reflect as to why I may be feeling that way. It doesn't always have to be a profound or even "good" poem, but the strategic way to word my feelings using different word combinations, syllable combinations, or sentence fragments that don't follow any grammar rules. It is a free-reign sort of writing style that I am absolutely fascinated by, as well as a useful way to eloquently express ideas outside of the confines of traditional essay-style writing.

Mental illness has affected me both directly and indirectly. I plan to implement change through de-stigmatization and more awareness. Personally, I have struggled with my mental health for years. Suicidal thoughts and tendencies have plagued me from an incredibly young age, with the first thought of “what is the point?” at the tender age of seven. I often felt hopeless and without purpose, with the all-too-familiar feeling of despair washing over me each and every day. Through multiple failed suicide attempts, I faced the cold harsh fact: this is my reality. I have to live with this, but it is not something that I need to look at in a hindering way. I am not doomed to live a life of dread and misery. Though it may be hard, I can choose to be alive every day. From that sobering moment on, that’s how I started to look at life: each day a choice to be alive. Though this may sound rather dismal, having to choose to be alive every day, it was an aid during that time. I knew that suicide was an option, and while that may sound as though it is an “escape plan”, it was comforting in a way. I can’t quite explain the depths of my thoughts when I was in the deepest part of my despair, but I can say this: though I am not fully “healed” or “fixed”, and I don’t think I ever will be, as there is much more to it than that, I believe that each day is a blessing to be alive. Though sometimes my mind does go right back to the places that I have fought so hard to get out of, suicide is no longer my first choice. In fact, I am ecstatic to announce that it is no longer an option at all. As I previously mentioned, some may view suicide as an “easy way out”, though it is anything but. In my community, a suicide cluster was at its peak in 2021. It started with my friend Zachary taking his life on June seventh of that year. As devastating and shattering as one death by suicide is, it didn’t stop there. Throughout the next year, a record number of my very own peers took their own lives. It was a truly tragic time for us as a community. Everyone was affected deeply by this, even those who had not known any of the students personally. I would not be truthful if I didn’t say that each suicide, along with being a stab right into my heart, tempted me to take my own life. I am eternally grateful that I am still here, but the pain of 2021 and our community’s losses still affect me deeply. I strongly believe that awareness as well as information about mental illness needs to be spread. Though our community has faced a myriad of devastating deaths by suicide, it does not mean that everyone is educated about it. In fact, I know people personally who are ignorant and still believe that it is “weak” to end one’s own life, and one must “power through it” and “tough it out” while dealing with mental health. Knowledge is power, in the broadest sense as well as dealing with mental health. The more someone knows, the more that one realizes that they are not alone, nor should they take their own life. Information about how to help someone who is hurting needs to be shared. It is absolutely crucial that everyone knows that they are not alone, and there is hope.

The song Female by Keith Urban has the most important message to me, at least at the moment. Songs carry great weight to me, and while sometimes there is a deeper meaning to look into while tuning into good music, some are beautifully self-explanatory. Music is truly a great art form, and while I myself am not musically inclined (unfortunately, my music career peaked in third grade when I learned to play hot cross buns on the recorder), I thoroughly enjoy listening and fully immersing myself in it. Though I wouldn't consider myself a huge die-hard country music fan, I think that this song is beautiful. It is simple, with a lovely melody. The song addresses the way that society views women, as Keith hauntingly sings, "When you hear a song that they play saying you run the world/ Do you believe it?/ Will you live to see it?" The last line of that particular stanza strikes me. Asking if you, whoever "you" is in the song, will live to see women "running the world" hits me in the sense that a vast majority of girls will not grow up to see women in charge. Though this is changing slowly, it is changing nonetheless. Though the song may be interpreted in a dismal way, I think that it also shows hope. A man, even a country singer (not to get too into stereotypes of the genre here) speaking about the value of women and the beauty that femininity carries is a lovely thing. The first step is to acknowledge that we have a problem, and in this well-written and well-sung song, Keith Urban does just that. He brings awareness to the issue while also shedding light on the under-appreciated roles of women.

My personal experience with mental illness has influenced my relationships, career aspirations, and beliefs in impactful ways. It started when I was very young, too young (though is there ever an "old enough" when it comes to the desire of taking one's own life?). The first time I was ever afflicted with a thought that this life wasn't worth living was when I was seven. I vividly remember the stairs that I was walking up when the thought struck me: what is the point? This kind of thinking was terrifying to me, as I had never thought about the point of life. I had thought about my next day in second grade, what my after school snack would be, what my favorite color was, and other trivial things of the sort. At the time, the thought struck me with such force that I had to sit down on one of the stairs, having no motivation to stand up. I tried to think to the future. What is the point? Finishing second grade, finishing elementary school, and then the rest of school? Then getting married, and having kids? Then we die? It seemed quite dismal to me. As I sat on those stairs, my mind scrambled to come up with a purpose. Love? Yes, it seems as though love should be enough of a reason to be alive. But I thought of all of my family members who I loved dearly, and the thought didn't go away. The deep pit in my stomach made me feel sick. The grim view that I had so suddenly adopted stuck with me for quite some time, though throughout the years I have worked on taming down everything in me that tells me I am better off dead. Virtually every relationship through my adolescent years was deeply affected by my own declining mental health as well as others'. Throughout my middle school years, the battle with my mind affected my friendships, and I often regret the way that I went about everything. At the time, I was harming myself physically. It was the only way my underdeveloped mind could process my emotions and cope, as unhealthy as it was. The friends that I had at the time were incredibly supportive and tried their best to help me out, but being as we were so young, they didn't know how to help me properly. This also exposed them to the cruel harsh world of another person's suffering, which was premature in some ways. The suicide attempts that took place in my own life put a strain on the relationships I had, as people in my life would take things personally (I'm not enough? Is it my fault? I'm not a reason enough to stay? et cetera). It made some relationships stronger and some disintegrate quickly, as I could not properly pour into a friendship as well as others could. The family relations were drastically strained and put through a lot, and there are long-lasting effects that are still present today. My career aspirations were deeply affected throughout my struggle, as I realized that life is so fragile. Each life is so precious and valuable, which vastly contradicts the thoughts that I had and still struggle with. The close, near-death incidents that I put myself through made me realize that anyone could die at any point. I didn't, and still don't, want anyone to feel strongly enough to take their own life. It is no secret that mental health is on the decline as mental illness diagnoses rise drastically every day. I think that this is partly the reason that I want to be an elementary educator. While I've always had some interest in childcare and have wanted to pursue something with children, my experiences shaped me to realize that everyone, especially young children, needs someone to listen and pour into them and make them realize that they are more than worthy of being alive. I think that each life is precious, and as a teacher, I would love to encourage each child to a point that they know just how valued, loved, and special they are. As ironic as it may sound, the thought of someone else taking their life or even feeling strongly enough to do so makes me physically ache. An influential adult can shape a young child's life in tremendous ways, which is not a new piece of information by any means; however, the impact that a mentor can have in a child's life can be powerful enough to save a life. If, as a teacher, I even help one child feel loved enough to stay, then I will feel like I have accomplished what I have set out to do. My beliefs were deeply challenged, as I had previously stated myself to be a Christian. This had caused me so much guilt, as I had realized what I was doing was wrong and God would "hate" me for doing this to myself. Surely He wouldn't be okay with me being ungrateful enough to take the life that was given to me. However, this self-berating way of thinking didn't deter me from my own actions but rather my belief system. Everything that had been ingrained into me from a young age was uprooted as I was sure that God would not allow me to feel this way. I now understand this is spiritually immature. Now, though I still struggle, I have re-adopted the beliefs that I had previously had. I believe that God is with us, and I would call myself a Christian to this day. I obviously cannot claim that I know the reason to any of this suffering, and I can't say I understand any of this more than I did before. However, I have something that I didn't have before: hope. I truly aspire to be the reason that someone else can have hope in the future as well.

I plan to inspire the young lives in my future by kindness. The incredibly simple act of being kind is nothing new, but while it is classic, it is also revolutionary; revolutionary in what it does for people and how it affects everyone's lives; revolutionary in the impact on self-worth and feeling of value it instills in people, children especially. I have seen firsthand and experienced the importance of kindness in young lives through my own experiences being a child that craved and needed kindness as well as observing from the outside. Currently, I work at a daycare and see all sorts of children. Those who are spoiled, those who are in foster care, those whose parents don't bat an eye when they say their first words, those who are incredibly troubled, all coming from a vast variety of backgrounds and experiences. But these children, big and small, wealthy and not, all have one thing in common: the need to be nurtured and loved. And that is my job, which I take very seriously. Whether or not someone is supported at home, when they are placed under my care, they will be loved and encouraged. Even in small instances, when someone can't find a friend to color with or doesn't want to interact with the other kids, all they need to be shown is kindness. Not just from me, but especially from their peers. It is absolutely imperative that we, as role models, also teach kindness while displaying it. From a smile to encouraging words, acts of kindness are life-changing to small children (and adults too!). The more we display kindness, we model to kids what it is that they need to see. We have the power to encourage them to not only feel good about themselves, but also to help others feel good about themselves as well. Kindness is a chain reaction, and I believe that all it takes is one role model to get the ball rolling on this beautiful domino effect.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!” The little playground rhyme may ring true with others, but not with me. My extreme sensitivity has been a blessing and a curse throughout my life. This has led me to be kind, which is the characteristic that I value most in myself (as cliché and generic as it may sound). From a young age, I've been quite sensitive, which has been a blessing and a curse. I feel things in such a way that every single emotion is felt so thoroughly and painstakingly intensely throughout my being. Every feeling comes with a set of physical responses. Even witnessing something happen to someone can either put a smile on my face and a flutter in my heart for the rest of the day or twist my stomach into knots and feel like flaming arrows going into my gut. Everything affects me so deeply in a way that is hard to describe to others. How can I tell people that the way they looked at me for a millisecond dictated the trajectory of the rest of my day? In my life, it's the little things that count. Sometimes, the "little things" are so small that they may go undetected by others. However, every little thing is on my radar. A smile from a stranger? That's my will to live for the week. A passive aggressive comment from a coworker? I'm questioning my existence. Though this is seemingly extreme, it is the extent that I think of things. One thing that my extreme sensitivity has taught me is the value and importance of kindness. Not only am I sensitive when it affects me, but also in regards to others. My sensitivity has led me to feel everything that others feel, even when it's happening to them and has no effect on my life, directly or indirectly. I wish I could explain this, but I just have a deeply-rooted desire for everyone to be happy (people-pleasing, hello - but that's a story for another time), and it causes me physical discomfort to know that there could be one person in the same room as me that isn't happy. This is where my kindness comes in. I can feel things that others go through, and this leads me to have compassion towards them. Another thing that I have been taught, unrelated to my sensitive nature, is how cruel human beings can be. Knowing all of the harsh and scathing things that people are capable of doing, this drives me further to be kind to others. You never know what others are going through, and the only thing that you can be to them is kind. Though this is nothing revolutionary, it is something that everyone could benefit from hearing frequently. People don't always display what they are going through. The barista that makes your coffee every morning may be in an abusive relationship and your smile could be a small reason that she chooses to continue every day. Your coworker that has the brightest smile could be going through a custody battle for her kids, and the silly jokes you tell her might be a break from the constant hell she faces every day. While not every person that you encounter on a day-to-day basis is going through a life-shattering situation, everyone benefits from kindness. Even if someone is having a good day, a smile and compliment from a stranger can only make it better. Kindness is not always grand gestures, but small conscious decisions to show compassion to others.

"I lov you beatyfil kinniny! Love, Jonnathan," the note read. For some context, my name is Kennadi (hard to spell, I know, especially for a first grader!). I had received this precious note after the first month of working with my sweet reading buddy, Jonnathan. I grinned to myself. Helping out at this elementary school had brought so much light to my life, including introducing me to an incredible group of first-grade students as well as some amazing teachers. If I wasn't certain what I wanted to do with my life before this experience, I sure knew now. Being an elementary educator is something I am passionate about. I love children, and I think it is very important to inspire and educate our youth not only for their futures, but for generations to come. I believe that the more we pour love, acceptance, and kindness into young minds, the more they will be able to pour it into others. Though this is a rather basic human concept, it is so often overlooked. I believe that I will be able to be a teacher that inspires change in at least one life. I hope that I can show love to children and make a positive impact on their life, whether that includes teaching them to read, making them feel empowered in an endeavor they aren't supported in at home, providing a safe/comfortable space to those who don't have it, or just being an encouraging adult that makes school a tad bit easier to handle for some. However, I cannot achieve this goal of mine without a higher education. Higher education is not only important for a degree, but also to open up opportunities along the way. I believe that higher education and the "college experience" so often talked about is such a crucially important developmental time in life, where one goes to explore and figure out not only what they believe in, but also who they are at their core. I hope to discover more about myself while pursuing a degree in teaching, and as much as I think I have already learned, I hope to uncover new truths about myself and the world around me while surrounding myself in a new environment at school. Not only do I think that it is crucial to experience new things, but also experience new things in different environments. Surrounding yourself with people who are different than you can help to open your eyes to new beliefs, worldviews, and experiences. Pursuing a higher education is a great way to be exposed to new beliefs and people, and going somewhere slightly out of your comfort zone can be beneficial to everyone involved. Personally, I find it incredibly hard to leave my comfort zone (who doesn't, right?!), but though the thought of leaving my hometown and home state makes my heart race a little faster, I truly believe that it will all be worth it. Pursuing a higher education not only will help me achieve my goals of being a teacher, but also will open my eyes to a wider world and expand my horizons in self-discovery.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. I groaned. My alarm clock went off again for the third time that morning. I rolled over, feeling the pit of dread in my stomach already. A new day, the same old feeling. I sighed. It was dark outside, which only made things worse. It took everything inside of me not to close my eyes and drift back into my dreamless, restless sleep. Anything to avoid going through the motions for yet another day. Helplessly, I rolled out of bed. No one else was going to help me. I had to do it myself. Choosing to be alive every day might not seem like a chore to everyone, and maybe it isn’t a sentiment that resonates with everyone. However, the harsh and bitter world that I woke up to every day taught me that the only person that can help me is myself. I came to the realization that sometimes, the only way to get out of your deep hole of despair is throwing away the shovel and furiously clamoring for the footholds and handholds that you can find, few and far between as they may be. Now, I know that I should be grateful for every breath. It’s a gift to wake up every morning, and lots of people don’t get the chance to see another day. However, though I know in my mind that this life is a blessing, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. Dare I say, some days I wished that I didn’t wake up at all. Though this sounds dismal, it has led me not only to realizing more about myself, but also about others. I became able to recognize that much like I was the only person who could help myself, in the same way, you can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. Now, I’ll put it bluntly. I was violently suicidal. I am not now fully “fixed”, “healed”, or whatever word people typically use when thinking about mental health issues. But I have dragged myself through each day, knowing that I could end my life at any moment. Though it may sound twisted, it was oddly reassuring knowing that there was a way out at any moment. Knowing that, I pushed through, suicide on the back burner. My goals have changed and gotten stronger throughout my struggle with my mental health. I have always wanted to pursue education, but throughout my experience, I believe it is especially important to be present for our future and their young minds. So many people, just like myself, don't have anyone to turn to. So many youth feel alone in this world, and I would like to be able to change that. As a future educator, I would like to be someone's support person. A teacher who pours into students, who gives love and support, and who not only teaches what it's like to be kind, but shows it as well. I want to inspire others. I want to be the person students feel as though they can turn to when they're feeling that they're in a hole so deep, the only way out is to lie down and never wake up. I believe with my whole heart that I can impart into these children that suicide is never the answer. Now, I am glad to announce that no longer is ending my life the first thing that I think of when entering into a tailspin or feeling that sickening, nauseating pit of depression in my stomach. I try my best to ignore those voices in my head that tell me I’m better off dead. I have learned to help myself through thick and thin, pulling myself through when there was quite literally nobody else around me and seemingly nothing to live for. I genuinely don’t believe that younger me could have ever imagined that we would have made it this far, or even made it at all. But here I am, living to tell the tale. I hope with all of my heart that I can be the reason that someone else can stay, and I would love to be the teacher that changes at least one person's life. I hope to be the reason someone chooses to stay.

I believe that education and mentoring the youth are incredibly crucial for many reasons. Not only does every child have the potential for a great future that sometimes doesn't get the chance to be unlocked, but the future as a whole rests on today's youth. From the various psychology, human development, childhood education classes that I've taken, as well as through my own experience, I've come to realize that mostly everything stems from one's childhood. The people who are deemed most likely to have a more challenging life, get into more trouble, and face far more struggles and difficulties are those who are not nurtured or supported in their childhood. From a biological developmental point of view, love, support, and acceptance are all crucial to a child's future. From a caring human perspective, the same is true. I have often cared very deeply about people. Some people tell me I care too much, and as that may be the case, I think that my "over-caring" flaw can be twisted into something good. I care very deeply about the well-being of people. I have an idealistic sense of the world in some ways, but I truly believe that a beautiful, accepting world is within our reach if we mentor our youth properly and show them not only that we care, but also show them properly how to care for others. The sense of belonging and acceptance are so incredibly crucial for young people to face, and I deeply believe that a teacher, educator, or counselor can show a child that their life is worth living. Now, from my personal experience and observations, it is clear that if you feel loved, you will go further to make others feel loved. I think this is a statement that everyone can get on board with, as I think we have all experienced this in some capacity. Let's say you're checking out at the grocery store and a stranger compliments your eyes. The feeling that the compliment gave you most likely makes you, as the compliment receiver, much more likely to go compliment someone else. This is on the basis that we feel nice when someone compliments us, so we should go compliment others to make them feel the way that we just felt. I believe that this works on a much broader scale as well. If we pour into the youth and show them the love, encouragement, and model behavior that they need to see in this world, it will inspire them to make a difference and show others that kindness and love as well. It becomes a chain reaction: kids are nurtured and loved, so they go nurture and love others, and this cycle, instead of the toxic cycle of abuse that is present in many homes, leads acceptance and love to grow exponentially. Is this a seemingly large feat? Yes. Is it feasible? I genuinely believe so, if we properly mentor our youth. I've had a few influential adults in my life, and every single one of them has inspired me to make a difference. I want to do for others what they have done for me. Sometimes it's a seemingly small impact, but big or small, they all make a world of difference. Just one person can leave an extraordinary impact on a young mind and in turn, a young life. As a future teacher, I would love to have an imprint on at least one person's life. What I have set out to do will be complete if even one person is positively affected.

The loss of my close friend Zach caused me to deeply reflect inwards and at my own actions and outlook on life. I want to fight to achieve a feeling of love and respect among people, and though it sounds idealistic and rather far-fetched, I believe that it's possible. This is the reason I want to be an educator: to show young children, some of which don't experience love, nurturing, and acceptance at home, that it does exist in this world. Zach's life ended too soon. He died by suicide. His death was devastating enough, but what it left behind was even more destructive than a community could imagine. His death was the first of a suicide cluster in our community, where over 11 high school students took their lives within 6 months. Though it was a devastating, catastrophic event, there was a silver lining to the whole thing: a more understanding community. Though it didn't extend much further than our small corner of our state, it did have tremendous impacts on the views of how precious, and how fragile, life really is. Personally, this made me focus on pouring into others more. Though I have always thought of myself as a caring person, I realized that I must not be doing enough. Through this, I had to learn the hard-to-face the lesson that sometimes, you've done all you can do for someone, and it's up to them to decide to recover from what they've been going through. I've also learned this lesson from the other end, which is equally difficult in an entirely different way. The focus that I had on others increased, and I worked on showing everyone in my life how much I loved them. I poured into others, and made sure to point out the light that I saw in others when I saw it. I want to fight to achieve an understanding among people as well as make people feel loved. Throughout my studies and classes, including psychology and childhood development, I've learned how much someone's childhood affects their future and the rest of their life. In a child's developmental stages, acceptance and love are absolutely crucial. I would like to be a supportive adult in a child's life and be able to show them the love that they may be missing at home. Though it may sound idealistic, I believe that this may be able to hopefully prevent feelings of such desperation and despair that lead someone to ending their own life. I know that influential adults can make such a difference in the lives of students, and I have had firsthand experience being affected by an adult who poured into me as a child. It gave me a feeling of value and purpose, and though it was years ago, I still remember the impact she had on me. I can safely say that I would not be the person I am without her influence in my life, and I hope with all that I have that I can be that for someone else. If I can be for at least one person, then my mission will be complete, and what I have set out to do will be done.

The Ants Sent Me Into an Existential Spiral Wandering thoughtless (thoughtless- as there ever is such a thing for me) Staring at the sidewalk. Pondering. Watching the ants perform their duties Duties I have duties Why am I walking? Why am I here? I should be doing my duties Like the good little ants My pace quickens. All the breath in my lungs seems to escape like someone had just sat on them— my lungs as fragile as a balloon Fragile— we are so vulnerable Can we ever be fully safe? No. No. I have to protect myself. I have to go inside, nothing is safe We are defenseless, powerless under all of the cruel happenings of this world Anything can happen to anyone We are merely shells, waiting for an outside force to eventually destroy us Even when the outside force is time Time— do I have enough of it? No. I don’t. I never do. Time keeps passing, faster, faster, I need more, always just a little more How can we stop it? I must get home I must finish my tasks— so much is going on in my mind I wish I could shut it off So much noise, my thoughts wailing over one another Criss-crossing, stomping their way through, up, around, over, under Marching at their own beat— no rhythm The silent noise making its way from my head throughout the rest of my body The thoughts and the racket from my mind penetrating my heart— permeating, polluting, piercing It’s poisoned now My home The thoughts are inundating I’m drowning Drowning— the dishes in the sink Do they still need to be done? Did I finish them as I was supposed to? My mental checklist is unsure I am unsure The one thing that I can be sure of is that there is more More that I must do More that I must clean, more that I must organize, there’s always more Is there any time for a break? Something always needs to be done There is no break Never will I get a break, ever, the duties will never go away Something can always be done. If it is done, it can always be perfected More awaits me. My chest rises and falls faster and faster and— Oh no Is it a heart attack this time? Will it be the end? It can’t be the end There’s still so much more left to do Still so many duties for me to complete Will I leave with an incomplete life? The list never quite finished? Did any of it matter? In the end, there’s always more to do I’m never quite finished.

I am pursuing elementary education as a career path. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to work with kids in some capacity. A teacher was the first thing I wanted to be as a child (besides being a pony, of course). Through some heavy discouragement from my parents (varying from "You won't make any money!", "Teachers get burnt out", "It's more than just telling kids how to draw in the lines" to "You really shouldn't be a teacher. Choose something that will be more lucrative"), I have thoroughly explored many other options. However, I keep landing at the same point that I started as a young child: a teacher. I thoroughly believe that an influential adult can make a landslide of a difference in a young child's life. This is nothing revolutionary by any means, but throughout my own experience, I've seen firsthand the impact that an adult can have in a child's life. The amount of love or positivity that someone pours into a child can make or break not only that student's academic career, but their self-esteem and even outlook on life. When a teacher shows students love or support in any form, it makes the students more willing to accept what they're teaching (even if it's just second-grade math). The willingness to cooperate and learn goes beyond the classroom as well, which is demonstrated in many situations, mine included. For as long as I can remember, I have dealt with anxiety in some form or fashion. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was for a very long time, but I would deal with stomachaches, dread, and little "freak-outs" as my mom would call them (though, we found out later, they were my elementary school version of panic attacks). They all revolved around one thing: school. This specific instance started around second grade. It wasn't the curriculum that was hard for me; it was quite the opposite, in fact. The material posed no problem for me, but my teacher at the time did. I would do anything imaginable to avoid staying home from school. Though this is a common tale in countless young students, nothing my mom did to convince me to go could make any sort of difference. I was bent on avoiding school at any costs. The measures I went to, as extreme as they were, rarely worked. Once I got to school, I would hide out in the bathroom to avoid going into the classroom. I'll cut to the chase here and put it quite bluntly: my teacher was not very nice. She would single students out, pick blatant favorites, and use her words to hurt us. Though looking back, it was never seemingly intentional, some of the things that she said still stick with me. Through the year, I had an increasingly hard time listening to my teacher. In my second-grade mind, tuning her out was an act of rebellion. Though looking back, I realize that this is incredibly immature, it just goes to show the impact that a teacher can have on a young student. I would go home in a bad mood and listen to my sister's wonderful synopsis of her day. Her teacher poured love, light, and encouragement into her. I didn't know that was an option. A teacher who genuinely cares about her students? I wished it for myself. Ten years later, I still wish the same thing. I want every student to feel loved and appreciated when they go to school, and I plan on making a positive impact through love, encouragement, acceptance and positivity.

My personal experience with mental illness has influenced my relationships, career aspirations, and beliefs in impactful ways. It started when I was very young, too young (though is there ever an "old enough" when it comes to the desire of taking one's own life?). The first time I was ever afflicted with a thought that this life wasn't worth living was when I was seven. I vividly remember the stairs that I was walking up when the thought struck me: what is the point? This kind of thinking was terrifying to me, as I had never thought about the point of life. I had thought about my next day in second grade, what my after school snack would be, what my favorite color was, and other trivial things of the sort. At the time, the thought struck me with such force that I had to sit down on one of the stairs, having no motivation to stand up. I tried to think to the future. What is the point? Finishing second grade, finishing elementary school, and then the rest of school? Then getting married, and having kids? Then we die? It seemed quite dismal to me. As I sat on those stairs, my mind scrambled to come up with a purpose. Love? Yes, it seems as though love should be enough of a reason to be alive. But I thought of all of my family members who I loved dearly, and the thought didn't go away. The deep pit in my stomach made me feel sick. The grim view that I had so suddenly adopted stuck with me for quite some time, though throughout the years I have worked on taming down everything in me that tells me I am better off dead. Virtually every relationship through my adolescent years was deeply affected by my own declining mental health as well as others'. Throughout my middle school years, the battle with my mind affected my friendships, and I often regret the way that I went about everything. At the time, I was harming myself physically. It was the only way my underdeveloped mind could process my emotions and cope, as unhealthy as it was. The friends that I had at the time were incredibly supportive and tried their best to help me out, but being as we were so young, they didn't know how to help me properly. This also exposed them to the cruel harsh world of another person's suffering, which was premature in some ways. The suicide attempts that took place in my own life put a strain on the relationships I had, as people in my life would take things personally (I'm not enough? Is it my fault? I'm not a reason enough to stay? et cetera). It made some relationships stronger and some disintegrate quickly, as I could not properly pour into a friendship as well as others could. The family relations were drastically strained and put through a lot, and there are long-lasting effects that are still present today. My career aspirations were deeply affected throughout my struggle, as I realized that life is so fragile. Each life is so precious and valuable, which vastly contradicts the thoughts that I had and still struggle with. The close, near-death incidents that I put myself through made me realize that anyone could die at any point. I didn't, and still don't, want anyone to feel strongly enough to take their own life. It is no secret that mental health is on the decline as mental illness diagnoses rise drastically every day. I think that this is partly the reason that I want to be an elementary educator. While I've always had some interest in childcare and have wanted to pursue something with children, my experiences shaped me to realize that everyone, especially young children, needs someone to listen and pour into them and make them realize that they are more than worthy of being alive. I think that each life is precious, and as a teacher, I would love to encourage each child to a point that they know just how valued, loved, and special they are. As ironic as it may sound, the thought of someone else taking their life or even feeling strongly enough to do so makes me physically ache. An influential adult can shape a young child's life in tremendous ways, which is not a new piece of information by any means; however, the impact that a mentor can have in a child's life can be powerful enough to save a life. If, as a teacher, I even help one child feel loved enough to stay, then I will feel like I have accomplished what I have set out to do. My beliefs were deeply challenged, as I had previously stated myself to be a Christian. This had caused me so much guilt, as I had realized what I was doing was wrong and God would "hate" me for doing this to myself. Surely He wouldn't be okay with me being ungrateful enough to take the life that was given to me. However, this self-berating way of thinking didn't deter me from my own actions but rather my belief system. Everything that had been ingrained into me from a young age was uprooted as I was sure that God would not allow me to feel this way. I now understand this is spiritually immature. Now, though I still struggle, I have re-adopted the beliefs that I had previously had. I believe that God is with us, and I would call myself a Christian to this day. I obviously cannot claim that I know the reason to any of this suffering, and I can't say I understand any of this more than I did before. However, I have something that I didn't have before: hope. I truly aspire to be the reason that someone else can have hope in the future as well.