My grandpa, Bill Marks, proudly served in the Vietnam War. He was one of the toughest but kindest people I've ever known. Even though he passed away in 2020 from lymphoma related to Agent Orange exposure, I still think about him all the time. He's the reason I picked up a club, and honestly, the reason I'm even able to go to college; he left me a college fund that made school a greater possibility. I'm extremely grateful for everything he has taught me and left me with, and I try every day to honor and live up to the example he set. I picked up a club the summer before my freshman year of high school as a way to follow in his footsteps. At first, I wasn't very good, but with practice and determination I worked my way from JV to varsity. By my senior year, I even made it to sectionals, something I could have never imagined. Now I play for St. Norbert College, and golf and being a student athlete has become a big part of my identity. It's taught me patience, focus, and handling frustration when things don't go my way. In addition to being a student athlete, I double major in psychology and art, and belong to a sorority. Through all of these I've learned the art of balancing and knowing when to ask for help in addition to the discipline and organization that comes with being involved. If I were lucky enough to get this scholarship, it wouldn't just aid me financially. It would also give me away to honor my grandpa's legacy daily and give back to the veteran community that has meant so much to my family. Being able to honor the foundation through spreading the word to my teammates, classmates, friends, and sorority sisters would be something I would do with pride. Supporting the veteran community through service, support, or organizing events would allow me to share my grandpa's story and honor the sacrifices he's made to support my family. My grandpa's influence is a large part of who I am. He taught me to work hard, appreciate what I have, and give back to communities that support me. I'd be proud to represent this scholarship and foundation as I continue to pursue my bachelor's degree in psychology and studio art, something my grandfather would be proud to support me in. I continue to work hard as an athlete and am reminded each time I pick up my club of my grandpa, motivating me to be the best version of myself.

My mental health has always been a topic of discussion in my family, growing up it was evident that we had a history of different mental illnesses, just from my maternal grandmother we had a history of bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, anorexia, anxiety, and depression. It was about 6th grade when I began having friend issues that we saw the depression take off, I had lost all of my friends and felt so alone wondering what I had done wrong while remembering the times my friend's mom had told all the other moms to keep their kids away from me, knowing that as a child doesn’t do you any good. In 7th grade, I had finally found my pack, or so I thought, only to in 8th grade, hit the lowest low I had ever hit, my friends had all ditched me once again and we began to see a pattern in my anxiety with the always present question of “are you mad at me?” only to get a half-hearted answer from someone who never really cared. By this point, many things were suspected in me, but I knew I wasn’t worthy of living, I had no friends and was about to go through one of the biggest transitions of my life all alone, I saw no reason to continue living and after being surrounded with people who had poor coping strategies and who had attempted suicide, done self-harm, and turned to drugs, I felt that was all that was left. By this point, I had been diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety, and depression, as well as being tested for bipolar disorder. That summer going into high school I was tested over a period that no kid should have to go through, for Autism, growing up I hadn’t known anyone with Autism who wasn’t a kid with special needs, so when the test came back positive, my life flipped upside down, I denied with every fiber of my being that I was different, my whole life all I wanted to be was normal, just like every other kid, I was tired of sticking out like a sore thumb and living with my past, here was this fresh start that was being ripped from me. My grades began to slip as I tried to break my pattern and mold into what everyone else was, at one point I was crying every day and had no interest in what I was passionate about, after returning to the doctor, I was told that I was now undiagnosed. This label had ruined me, for it to be incorrect, I knew that mistakes happened but now I was angry and I destroyed everything, my friendships, my passions, and my relationship with my family, after all, my family had decided it was important enough to tell my entire golf team my diagnosis in an attempt for them to understand me better I was destined to be treated like I couldn’t comprehend anything and like I was different. While I was different, and I felt my anxiety get worse and worse before it resulted in panic attacks, I would never be able to connect with my golf team without believing they were only being nice because I had Autism. I slowly got over it until I found new friends only to have them drop me, while we were at homecoming, during my senior year, the only one I ever went to and further solidifying in my mind that I was a loser who deserved to die because I was incapable of finding people who cared about me. The spiral continued into my freshman year of college where I was put in a triple due to Loyola’s over-admission, which somehow became my problem. The girl with raging anxiety never left her bed and lost 15 lbs in 2 weeks because I was so uncomfortable. I was incredibly suicidal, at the lowest point in my life, to where my mom had me sign something that would allow her to make me a dependent if the time ever came that I was unable to care for myself. I had also developed an eating disorder and began actively self-harming myself, I would go through periods of stuffing myself followed by disgust for my body and starving myself. I was sick and there was nothing I could do to overcome it, and this was only exacerbated by my friend moving out and leaving me with a stranger I didn’t know who didn’t respect my wishes or the idea of a shared space. After a confrontation with her in which I sobbed the entire time, we agreed one of us needed to go, in my frustration and deep depression I was granted an accommodation for a single room and never talked to her again. Through this time I healed both physically and mentally though the demons that I had created always lurked, reminding me every so often of the state I had been in. I left Loyola, after being there an entire semester, getting accommodation for a single dorm, and making no connections I needed a restart, the place that was supposed to be my space to grow as a source of darkness and a constant reminder of where I could’ve taken my life but instead chose to live. My reminder of a fresh start was when I moved to DePere, WI, after taking one visit and having one talk with the advisor, for the 4 hr car ride home I transferred while still taking a J-Term class, and going through wisdom teeth surgery, I took a leap of faith and lived. I’ve met some of my best friends in the whole world and grown so much from my depression. My story continued because I deserved better, and so I lived.

Golfing has always been my way to connect with my grandpa after he passed, doing so in his legacy has been incredibly rewarding and stress relieving while also being incredibly stressful. To golf effectively you have to leave each hole in the past, no matter what you shot on the last hole, if you let it take you down, it can destroy an entire round. Moving past and moving on has been a challenge in itself and many times there have been tears of the frustration that I feel after having a bad hole. Having my teammates always made it better, no matter how I was doing, I felt it was so important to cheer on my teammates after all, it is a male-dominated sport, so there are times when you just have to remind each other that what we do makes us one of a kind, being the mom of the team and just getting to see my friends wins makes golf fun, no matter what happens to any of us, something can be celebrated, even if it's just a good driver shot, being able to have a new chance every hole and even getting to learn the tips and tricks of certain courses makes it beneficial to golf more frequently and also take some stress of about the tee shot. As a female golfer, though some things are difficult to overcome, one of the most annoying things is the guy's team, there isn't enough funding for women's sports currently and that was certainly the case for our high school team. While the boy's team was at an 18-hole golf course that was well maintained, the girls got 2 courses, for JV an all-par 3 course on a garbage hill, and for varsity, the worst maintained golf course, also the most anxiety-inducing, as many of the holes are along the street, I have ever played. In addition to this, any man would underestimate your ability, including my coach, for 3 years I was on JV, and for the 3rd year I played the top spot and was used to win the conference, instead of being given the chance to improve myself or learn more challenging courses I wasn't taken seriously and in my fourth year on the team as a senior, I proved him wrong and made it to sectionals, something the other girls who had been on varsity longer than I had didn't do. Overall, getting to honor my grandpa has been incredibly rewarding while also being incredibly frustrating, and there is lots of work to do still to ensure that both men's and women's sports get treated equally, especially at a high school level where funding should be equal.

My mental health has always been a topic of discussion in my family, growing up it was evident that we had a history of different mental illnesses, just from my maternal grandmother we had a history of bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, anorexia, anxiety, and depression. It was about 6th grade when I began having friend issues that we saw the depression take off, I had lost all of my friends and felt so alone wondering what I had done wrong while remembering the times my friend's mom had told all the other moms to keep their kids away from me, knowing that as a child doesn’t do you any good. In 7th grade, I had finally found my pack, or so I thought, only to in 8th grade, hit the lowest low I had ever hit, my friends had all ditched me once again and we began to see a pattern in my anxiety with the always present question of “are you mad at me?” only to get a half-hearted answer from someone who never really cared. By this point, many things were suspected in me, but I knew I wasn’t worthy of living, I had no friends and was about to go through one of the biggest transitions of my life all alone, I saw no reason to continue living and after being surrounded with people who had poor coping strategies and who had attempted suicide, done self-harm, and turned to drugs, I felt that was all that was left. By this point, I had been diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety, and depression, as well as being tested for bipolar disorder. That summer going into high school I was tested over a period that no kid should have to go through, for Autism, growing up I hadn’t known anyone with Autism who wasn’t a kid with special needs, so when the test came back positive, my life flipped upside down, I denied with every fiber of my being that I was different, my whole life all I wanted to be was normal, just like every other kid, I was tired of sticking out like a sore thumb and living with my past, here was this fresh start that was being ripped from me. My grades began to slip as I tried to break my pattern and mold into what everyone else was, at one point I was crying every day and had no interest in what I was passionate about, after returning to the doctor, I was told that I was now undiagnosed. This label had ruined me, for it to be incorrect, I knew that mistakes happened but now I was angry and I destroyed everything, my friendships, my passions, and my relationship with my family, after all, my family had decided it was important enough to tell my entire golf team my diagnosis in an attempt for them to understand me better I was destined to be treated like I couldn’t comprehend anything and like I was different. While I was different, and I felt my anxiety get worse and worse before it resulted in panic attacks, I would never be able to connect with my golf team without believing they were only being nice because I had Autism. I slowly got over it until I found new friends only to have them drop me, while we were at homecoming, during my senior year, the only one I ever went to and further solidifying in my mind that I was a loser who deserved to die because I was incapable of finding people who cared about me. The spiral continued into my freshman year of college where I was put in a triple due to Loyola’s over-admission, which somehow became my problem. The girl with raging anxiety never left her bed and lost 15 lbs in 2 weeks because I was so uncomfortable. I was incredibly suicidal, at the lowest point in my life, to where my mom had me sign something that would allow her to make me a dependent if the time ever came that I was unable to care for myself. I had also developed an eating disorder and began actively self-harming myself, I would go through periods of stuffing myself followed by disgust for my body and starving myself. I was sick and there was nothing I could do to overcome it, and this was only exacerbated by my friend moving out and leaving me with a stranger I didn’t know who didn’t respect my wishes or the idea of a shared space. After a confrontation with her in which I sobbed the entire time, we agreed one of us needed to go, in my frustration and deep depression I was granted an accommodation for a single room and never talked to her again. Through this time I healed both physically and mentally though the demons that I had created always lurked, reminding me every so often of the state I had been in. I left Loyola, after being there an entire semester, getting accommodation for a single dorm, and making no connections I needed a restart, the place that was supposed to be my space to grow as a source of darkness and a constant reminder of where I could’ve taken my life but instead chose to live. My reminder of a fresh start was when I moved to De Pere, after taking one visit and having one talk with the advisor, for the car ride home I transferred while still taking a J-Term class, and going through wisdom teeth surgery, I took a leap of faith and lived. I’ve met some of my best friends in the whole world and grown so much from my depression. My story continued because I deserved better, and so I lived. Seeing now, life is so valuable, and sometimes you just have to trust yourself and take a leap in search of what you deserve.