For high school, I chose to leave my world behind and attend Montverde Academy’s theater conservatory program 30 miles away, where I discovered my passion for writing and directing. I was always driven to take things to the next philosophical level, reaching for concepts far more advanced than high school drama. This was the year I met Daniel Mills. We met in our freshman biology honor class. Daniel and I argued and debated every single day and it was absolutely enlightening. The transition was hard for me to go to a brand new high school knowing no one. But Daniel was the first person I’d met who just got me right away.It was like a different language when we spoke. He got all my references and we had the same sense of humor, a pretty rare one. We just clicked. On May 31st, 2020, I lost my soulmate Daniel Mills. He passed in a tragic boating accident. Daniel suffered from separation anxiety and a lot of the time he allowed his mental illness to define him. I know that I helped him through this. I’m glad he will never have to grieve the way I do. He was an artist in every sense of the word. He touched people with his music and voice, that will last a lifetime. He drafted buildings, wrote plays, made art. He was so funny. He wanted to be a comedian. But when he turned sixteen he was sad he was closer to twenty than ten. He got what he wanted out of life. Daniel’s life was short, all the more reason to make the most of mine. I’m gonna change the world. He was a performer, an actor. His beautiful voice changed lives. My advice to anyone grieving would be to lean on your friends and family and relish in the wonderful memories any time you can. It is harrowingly painful but finding a way to go on and find a way to honor your loved one through positive service toward the world is a crucial part of healing. I am studying psychology and theatre arts in order to create arts based therapies for those struggling with mental illness. Daniel’s spirit guides me in this work and I am forever grateful for the time we spent together. For the rest of my life, I have my memories with Daniel and that is priceless to me.

I’ve been participating in theatre all my life. From a young age, I was drawn to theatre for whatever reason. Maybe it was because I could be creative, silly, loud, and dress up in costumes. Perhaps I was drawn to the sultry red curtains and dark stage, I’ve always had a fascination with the macabre and dramatic. Those things are all true in some capacity, but I tend to think my young mind was invested in bringing my favorite stories to life. There was something about seeing imagination come to life around me that made me stick around. As I aged, so did my relationship with theatre. I suffered from bouts of depression and anxiety, which made it very difficult for me to function. I felt inferior and embarrassed. If everyone else can get up in the morning, why can’t I? Through these challenges, I stuck with theatre. I learned about each piece of the process and observed the importance of every single being involved. For high school, I chose to leave my world behind and attend Montverde Academy’s theater conservatory program 30 miles away, where I discovered my passion for writing and directing. I was always driven to take things to the next philosophical level, reaching for concepts far more advanced than high school drama. This was the year I met Daniel Mills. We met in our freshman biology honor class. Daniel and I argued and debated every single day and it was enlightening. The transition was hard for me to go to a brand new high school knowing no one. But Daniel was the first person I’d met who just got me right away. It was like a different language when we spoke. He got all my references and we had the same sense of humor, a pretty rare one. We just clicked. On May 31st, 2020, I lost my soulmate, Daniel. He passed in a tragic boating accident. Daniel suffered from separation anxiety and a lot of the time he allowed his mental illness to define him. I know that I helped him through this. I’m glad he will never have to grieve the way I do. He was an artist in every sense of the word. He touched people with his music and voice, which will last a lifetime. He drafted buildings, wrote plays, and made art. He was so funny. He wanted to be a comedian. But when he turned sixteen he was sad he was closer to twenty than ten. He got what he wanted out of life. Daniel’s life was short, all the more reason to make the most of mine. In my grief, I turned to collage and painting to help me cope. The summer after Daniel’s passing, I volunteered as assistant Director at a community theater's children’s program. Many children felt like outcasts but found a home in the theater. I then developed a plan to combine studying theater and psychology in hopes of helping young people — especially those who struggle with mental illness — feel the magic of theater. I was recently accepted to Boston University, where I’m going to double major in Theatre Arts and Psychology and Brain Sciences in hopes of making these aspirations come true. As a theatre director, I utilize life. Theatre is living, breathing, and forever evolving. It’s as if I’m a painter, with brushes and paints with minds, goals, contributions, and ideas of their own. I have had the truest love and loss, and I wish to channel those things into something that honors my late soulmate and imbues the world around me.

One of the most powerful tools we have is education. Education is undoubtedly one of our most important rights. Although every country is flawed, one of the beautiful things about America is the notion that anyone - from the poorest student attending an overcrowded underfunded public institution to the private school student with the most coveted resources has the opportunity to work hard and achieve a better future. Unfortunately, this dream dies without educational equity. I stand for educational equity because I believe that someone's work ethic, passion, and ideas should be what determines their next steps, not whether or not they can afford the ever-rising costs of college tuition. It simply is not realistic for college students to be expected to commit themselves to lifetimes of debt. Even with a part-time job, student's debt still follows them long before their education transfers into a degree they can utilize. At this rate, accessibility to college is like a lottery. When I attend college, I want to be surrounded by a student body as diverse as the world. Including socio-economic backgrounds. As a leader at my high school, I've learned that I don't always have the answers. A huge lesson I have learned is the importance of different perspectives, and we can't build a world where everyone gets to share their experiences without educational equity. It is a top priority for the prosperity of the world and should be treated as one.