Since I was younger, all I wanted to do was be outside. I loved playing in the snow piles the plows would create outside of my house; I loved playing in the woods with my sisters; I loved feeling the grass beneath my feet. But now I struggle to complete those tasks. Snow does not fall as often; the woods behind my neighborhood have been cleared, and the grass is dried out. The moment I recognized these differences, I decided to do my own research on how to bring back these things I love. For my eleventh birthday, my parents started paying extra for recycling; it was the only present I requested that year. Since then I have taken upon the role of teaching my people what they can recycle, what they can't, and what has special rules. A few years ago, I became frustrated with just recycling. In reality, the majority of what is recycled isn't used due to contaminated items and lack of recycling advancement; therefore, I started eco-bricking. Eco-bricking is taking a plastic bottle and stuffing it with soft plastics. If one creates the brick correctly, it can be used as an actual brick. Over the course of two-or-so years I have created over fifteen bricks and I’ve joined brick trading pages online. I have become so obsessed with this initiative that my family knows to put plastic outside of my room. At first they were opposed to the idea, but once I informed them of the benefits (and they saw we were taking the 'trash' out less) they obliged with myrequests. Sometimes my aunts will even give me their 'trash' at family events so I can use it in a brick later or recycle it at home; I have spent multiple Christmases collecting 'trash' and putting it into a pile to handle later. I have also spent my weekends going to my local park and collecting 'trash'. I have found thousands of cigarette butts, hundreds of tiny pieces of plastics, dozens of plastic bottles, and a multitude of milk jugs. Sometimes when the 'trash' isn’t too dirty I take it home, clean it, and turn it into art. Every holiday season, I try to create a new piece of art to put up in my bathroom made of recycled materials. People often don’t realize that it’s made of 'trash', they just see a-not so great but still pretty-piece of art. The next step I would like to take in my sustainability journey is composting. I have started switching over to compostable products to try and minimize my waste production, but other than my ‘trash’ can, I have nowhere else to put it. I have already decided that I will have an amazing garden where I grow my own vegetables (especially lettuce) and I will dedicate time to my compost. Once I have a career and my own place, the entire place will be green in color and sustainability.

Growing up, I was always the ugly sister, the ugly friend, the ugly daughter, because I was bigger than those around me. This caused me to suffer from multiple eating disorders, such as anorexia and bulimia, but the one thing that helped me feel confident in myself was rugby. It was the feeling of walking onto the pitch and recognizing what my body does for me. It allows me to take a tackle, to stiff arm, to use all my might in a scrum, and to dive into the try zone. Rugby has also brought me indestructible bonds. Rugby culture is unmatched. Throughout my years of playing, I have played for multiple teams, including a team of random people from my state. This means the team I was playing with was different every time. A new person to prop with. A new person to run a switch off of. But what was not new was the fun we had together. The aggressive hugs after a great save, the slightly sexual comments said to each other when we were insecure in our kits, and the conversations that continued even though we lived hours apart from each other. Rugby provides a connection between people that makes one feel like they have known each other for decades. The hours-long bus rides where we bond over the same guy that screwed us over or about shared mental health issues. My favorite part about these bus rides was when affairs between you and your teammate faded away the second the speaker was turned up. Everyone was united in one goal. Have fun, yes. But more specifically, win. My school team says "Agape on me, agape on three" when we break for water or after a practice. Agape means unconditional love. Loving someone you hate or despise or abhor. It is something our team strives to live by because you may have fundamental differences between you and the people in your pod, but at the end of the day, you need to be there to ruck over them. You need to protect them the same as they need to protect you; we are one united unit regardless of what happened in class that day. In college, I hope to continue creating these bonds and take away knowledge that will help me with my rugby future, whether I am coaching or playing. I plan to attend the Ohio State University for environmental engineering and rugby. I have been lucky enough to tour their School of Environmental Resources and attend their rugby camps. Through both of these experiences, I have noticed the kind, loving people that are in both of these programs. Especially in the rugby program, everyone there genuinely loves each other. They want to win, but they have fun. One thing that is important to me for my college rugby experience is support from my teammates, which the OSU players demonstrate with their whole hearts. When attending their camps they constantly encouraged me to hit harder, to run faster, to pass further. They would give out compliments, but also genuine constructive criticism. This is the team I believe I belong on. It is the team I want to be on. Overall, there is a good chance I would not still be here today if I had never found out my school had a rugby team. Regardless of what my future holds, I know rugby will be there.

Winter Lamps Sun Upstairs Ice Screen Lights Basement Lemonade Snow Punch Hot Chocolate Liqueur Beer Food Beach And the categories are.... Things that are cold winter, ice, snow, basement Things that emit light lights, lamps, sun, screen Yellow drinks lemonade, beer, punch, liqueur Things that are hot upstairs, beach, hot chocolate, food I thought that beach, lemonade, and ice would lead people to a summer category; then I thought that winter, lights, snow, and hot chocolate may lead people to a Christmas category. With upstairs and basement I wanted people to question if there were more rooms in this list that they do not know about. Beer, and Liqueur have to do with alcoholic beverages, but punch could also be included in that. but then what would have been the last drink. Food, lemonade, sun, and beach could also be like a festival. I started off creating this by liking the word winter and wanting to incorporate it into a category, then basement came because it is usually cold and in connections there is always that one word that seem stupid to be in that category. I got ice and immediately thought that I could get people with a drink category. But then I had no idea what other things could go with lemonade, so I decided to look up other yellow drinks. Then the rest just feel into place trying to use words that could connect to different categories.

My favorite Athlete to cheer for on Team USA is Ilona Maher. I have been playing rugby for seven years and I hope to continue in college; one reason as to why I have persevered through the rough and tough of this sport is because of Maher. Through her use of social media, Maher has encouraged hundreds, if not thousands, of young girls to attempt this male dominated sport. Additionally, she promotes body positivity and supports women who have been a target of hate comments due to being more "masculine". She tackles the line between being a beauty, beast, and having brain (which is her slogan). I am someone who has been compared to a man throughout my life. My shoulders are broader than average, I am stronger that what a man would expect of a woman, and I am not a size zero. This has caused great insecurities in my life, but seeing a professional athlete praise the body type I have been taught to be unsecure about is a feeling that I cannot describe. I am also someone who loves rugby, but wants to continue with school and focus on a career. Maher played rugby in college and has a nursing degree. This shows people that you can persue multiple degrees at once. That is why I will always cheer on Ilona Maher.

The pills were spilt on the bathroom floor, scattered across the rugs, the sink, the toilet, myself. This was my third suicide attempt, but I do not think I would even call it an attempt. Instead of bringing the pills up to my mouth and down my throat and into my stomach, I threw them. From that point on, I have never thought about ending my life. My story starts in fifth grade. Depression runs in both sides of my family, so I was bound to be consumed by it at some point or another. My older sister was currently in the mental hospital after threatening to jump off our roof, so I wasn't anything special. During this time of my life I began to become hyper aware pof my mind and body, recognizing that I didn’t look like others, and I didn’t think like others. I wanted to punish myself for being different, so I took a pair of scissors from my pencil pouch, brought them to the bathroom, and made the first cut that would lead to hundreds. At first I did not care about the blood released from my veins, I only cared about the pain. I would cut myself and take a shower afterwards to continue this ritual; I yearned fro the burning sensation that water caused. It was poetic in a way. The water that brings one life, was threatening mine. Eventually, just the pain was not enough. I started off wanting one drop of blood, then two lines, then three areas of my arm oozing blood. It started to get out of hand, but I didn’t want help. It felt so good. It brought me so much joy and tranquility. I didn’t know how to leave this feeling behind. I woud sleep with a kitchen knife underneath my pillow so whenever I got the urge I was ready; one day that knife went missing. I am sure my mom took it, but a conversation nver arose. I was just allowed to go about with slits climbing my arms, making up lies about dropping scissors or scratching my arm too hard. But everyone knew. And no one cared. At least that is what it felt like. The reason I stopped was because of the conversation my father had with me after he found those pills scattered in the bathroom. Matter of fact, it was less of a conversation and more he yelled at me for making a mess. At that moment I was so mad at him, but looking back he ws just as scared as I was. He thought these were these last moments he would ever look me in the eyes or hear my voice and that caused me to realize the pain I would cause the dearest people in my life if I were to kill myself. Today I have been self-harm and suicide attempt free for more than five years. Anytime life gets stressful, or I threaten to relapse, I think about my little sister. I go downstairs and just hold her. The idea of her wondering why I am not coming to play with her, or why I am not home from school yet, or why I won’t wake up when she comes into my room and sees my lifeless body petrifies me. My piece of advice for anyone struggling with these thoughts would be to think about the one person you care about most in the world. And if you think that no one cares about you and you don’t care about anyone, the world is always better with more people in it. People who have gone through these experiences so they can pass their knowledge onto others. So they don’t feel as alone as we once did.