The age-old question. What teacher made me want to become one? It should be easy to answer. I'm picking my lifelong career based on this one moment which inspired me. So why does it feel as though there's so much pressure? As though my experience is not significant or big enough to influence such an important decision. But it's the small gestures which slip through cracks of the heart and infiltrate the deepest. I was in 4th grade, sitting in Mrs. Vazquez's class. Excellence was always expected of me. Everyday, I heard my family's rationale. "You're in elementary school. It's impossible to fail." The word "fail" was a heavy one in my family. If my dad failed in school, he wouldn't have landed a job in America to move his family. In front of my eyes laid my first fail. I sat in the little blue chair around the wooden circle table. All the other students were putting their stuff away, ready for recess. Life went on for them, regardless of the math worksheets handed back out. But I couldn't move. My mind was racing on how my parents would react when they saw this paper. I combed through my brain's files, imagining every scenario, while holding my breath. My throat was throbbing. My eyes were damp, itching with fat teardrops ready to race down my cheeks. Kids got up and passed by me, waiting to go to recess. Thinking about what they thought of me was just making everything worse. Maybe they thought I was overreacting. But I was taught how much grades matter. Life or death. That's what it was for my family. Your mind gets you to better places. Where would I go if I struggle so early? I will be the weed plucked out early, never blooming into a flower. My thoughts were getting louder, moving faster in my head. I couldn't stand up. The light turned off. My head jerks to the door. Did everyone leave without me? Was I left behind? The room was left empty, save for Mrs. Vazquez, who was walking towards me. There she was, sitting in the small chairs for children, rubbing my back. I began to sob, my words punctuated with sharp gasps for air. She probably didn't know a word I said, but she knew what was wrong. And that's when she said the most important words. "If you never struggled, you wouldn't need me. I am here for a reason." I define being an educator with her words as a foundation. I've finally overcome my fear of failure because I know now that it won't let my family down. The only way their blood, sweat, and tears will go to waste is if I never try. If I never push myself and risk failing, I will never succeed. No school assignment would have ever taught me that. It takes a wonderful educator. I owe it to teachers for helping me learn what matters the most. I learned how to navigate life and take leaps of faith. It took these important role models to believe in me for me to believe in myself. It's my legacy to put my faith into the next generation. To believe in them so wholeheartedly, and push them past their limits, so they can achieve what I know they have the potential to.

Wattpad was an app that meant everything to me when I was in middle school. I could read tropes I loved by small authors, with many being young adults just dipping their toes into the water of writing. A part of me loved when books felt like hidden treasures rather than reading the classics, but then no one else around me knew or read it. #BookTok was a Renaissance of sorts. It was a rebirth of my middle school reading craze, but this time its community aspect saved me in high school. Covid-19 made high school weirder than I already expected it to be. Yes, everyone was affected differently by the pandemic, to the point where something so extreme now feels normal and excessively discussed. But the physical barrier is important to acknowledge, as it shows the true strength a community has when it can overcome the distance and bring people together when they are oceans apart. As long as we all delve into the imaginative worlds the #BookTok community recommends, it's like we're all together. I find myself on #RomanceTok most often, simply because the contemporary sweetness mixed with tangible angst feels like an immersive escape from reality. I've been introduced to authors like Ana Huang, Elle Kennedy, and Catharina Maura, all of whom have been in the bright light of #BookTok, and earned a spot on my ideal bookshelf with their expert command on words. But I crave underground authors. It's not to feel cooler than others or be pretentious but to give overlooked, beautiful stories a chance. I have to mention the Knockemout Book series by Lucy Score, which deal with years-long turmoil and grief, and how the most unexpected people can be the ones we need the most. Or Michelle Heard's Sinners series, which swirl melancholy and trauma with random bouts of laughter to show the harsh world, and fairytale love which can be found in it, all at once. I could go on and on, about Rina Kent, Odette Stone, and many more, but it's the essence of my favorite authors that deserves the most emphasis. These authors provide solace with their worlds. #BookTok gives me stories I otherwise never would have got to read, and it isn't just me who feels this way. Before I ever choose to read a book, I look through the TikTok comments first. This community speaks my language, telling me tropes, recalling their favorite part of the book, describing the "fluff to seriousness" ratio, and so much more. We carry each book in our hearts, and even when the mind gets a little fuzzy on the details, having these books show up again on our TikTok feed is a burst of nostalgia. We get the exact feeling we had when we read the book the first time and can't wait to recount to others. The stories we remember so vividly from just a mention of a detail show me the true range of power that literature holds. Every book impacts #BookTok differently, whether it provide a mirror which one reader sees themself in, or a window which another looks through to learn something new. But when we all can come together thanks to the vast reaching #BookTok community, we have people to share our passion with. It's this beautiful final step which allows literature to forever live on and never be forgotten in each heart of the #BookTok community, creating a never-ending impact.

School isn’t the same for everyone. It has a lot to do with your school, but that’s only 50%. The other 50% stems from your personal life. At my high school, we are privileged to have opportunities that allow career exploration. For my junior year, I volunteered to be a teaching assistant to Mrs. Stephanie Stoebe. It was a 4th grade class, and I helped teach English and Social Studies. I expected to just teach what I love. I knew I wanted to be a teacher for middle grades, and the subjects I’d help with were my favorite. But learning each student’s name turned into having a mental file pulled up at the mention of their name. I didn’t expect this volunteering opportunity, with a simple four hours a week, to become my favorite part of life. It was mainly one student, who I saw less than I didn’t, which solidified my choice to become a teacher. He had over 40 absences in just one semester. He told me he wanted to see how much school he had to miss to be kicked out. He was only nine years old. I asked him why, and it took a really long time for him to open up. He told me he broke his glasses for the third time, and his mom refused to buy a new pair because she viewed it as a waste of money. He saw no point in coming to school when he couldn’t see anything. He was a fish out of water, knowing how to thrive in the water, but simply not having any. I knew there was more to the situation, but I still didn’t know what to do or how to help. I went on Reddit, as one does, and also asked Mrs. Stoebe. The teachers of Reddit and Mrs. Stoebe told me that as a teacher, I should do whatever is in my power. Sometimes, I would have to feel helpless, and all I could do was report it to higher ups. But I could also try to motivate the student personally to come to school. It comes back to the 50/50, where I am only in the 50% of what affects my students in their school life. Still, I did everything I could. My responsibility isn’t only to teach the kids who want to learn, but to also teach the ones who don’t. I reprinted instructions on paper so he could sit in the back and catch up instead of feeling embarrassed that he was relocated to the front of the class. Pens were not allowed in class, but I’d allow him to revise and edit using a clicky pen with seven different colors. The small things made a difference, and it wasn’t a perfect story with linear progress. But I think that’s what I love about teaching. I give back to my community by being a safe space for my students. I take the legacy and lessons of my mentors and pass on the valuable information. They learned the hard way so I can teach with the wisdom of many educators behind me. It means that the little seeds I plant in my students can be watered and cared for as best as I can. It is my hope that the extra steps I take turn into a mile and I will slowly improve my community. It will be that honest work from my heart which will mold the future generation to be lifelong learners.

You can't just teach the kids who are ready to learn. There are so many teachers in this world, and yet few care about such an important thought. The students who don't try are an afterthought. In the sieve that is a school, the ones who slip through the teacher's fingers are simply a write-off. With a sigh, the school claims they're the ones who got away, and call it a night. But later that night, those students know they didn't get away from anything. Some of those students wonder when someone will come home, or even if their current place of residency is what they define as home. Those students keep going through school, never once worried about geometry or Spanish. So when we ask those same students what they plan on doing after high school, and they can't give a single plan, why do we point the finger of blame on them? Who was there for them when their water bottle was so dirty from having no clean, running water to wash it under from the unpaid bills, stacking months back? When a student is in starvation mode, you can not feed them education. If it's not food that's in your hand, they'll bite you and turn the other way. I'm not saying it's a teacher's job to nourish students in every way, but we are trained to help provide them those resources. As an intern at an elementary school, I see the same kids everyday, and I will be the first to see how those closest to them treat them, and whether it's wrong or right. Who else will see the callouses on one girl's hands and the bags under another boy's eyes? Not every child has special needs that prevent inclusion, which is why one-third of the students who pop in my 4th grade class have some sort of social or cognitive disability. When their own mind is the danger they worry about unleashing, they do not care for what you teach them. They are simply focused on surviving the day with the chaos they can't escape. I don't care what anyone tells me about how you "win some, and you lose some." Every child deserves to have adult role models in their lives. I may not mirror the struggles of each child, but I hope to open a window of myself and allow students to peek into my life. I want them to see how I spend everyday doing what I love with the group of people I love, and that they can have that too. I want them to see I have my own problems too, and I want to have those difficult conversations about how to work through them. That way, when I ask, "If you could do whatever you wanted, what would you do when you grow up?", my students will no longer have their mouths gaping open. Their brains will start turning those gears, and dreams will be reinvigorated. I want to be the reason students discover their wonder for life, and help them map out the climbing holds which will help them climb their mountains. I want to pursue a career in teaching so students can learn what they want to learn, and be who they dream of being. If I am so blessed with being able to pursue this love of mine, mark my word, I will make sure my students unlock each of their own versions of paradise as well.