The most inspiring book I read was “The Handmaid’s Tale” by Margaret Atwood. I tend to gravitate toward contemporary fiction and realistic fiction, therefore, I don’t read a lot of dystopian. This book was assigned for my 12th grade AP English Literature and Composition class, but I didn’t “read” it and skimmed through the assigned chapters to do the assignments since I had a lot of homework and studying to do for other classes. In the last months of 2021, “The Handmaid’s Tale” found its way into my To Be Read pile, and I didn’t want to put off reading it anymore, and I’m glad I didn’t. Most of my inspiration to write comes from the books I read, and “The Handmaid’s Tale” was one of the major inspirations that led me to write in the dystopian genre. My story doesn’t follow the same plotline as “The Handmaid’s Tale” (that would be plagiarism!) but I tried to think about writing in Atwood's style to get my reader engaged in my character’s lifestyle and understand her perspective, as Atwood did with me. My story is still a work in progress, but I want to read more of Atwood’s and other dystopian works in the future to help me, and it may help me write other genres with a similar style of writing.

“The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time” by Mark Haddon isn’t my favorite book solely because of its syntax and plotline, but because it’s the book that made me fall in love with reading and was the first step into becoming the avid reader that I am now. Before the eighth grade, I found reading tedious and only read books assigned to me in school, none of which sparked my interest. In eighth grade, one of my double Humanities periods was always dedicated to silent reading, and we were allowed to pick any book from the class library. We were halfway through the year when I picked up “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time”, not knowing what it was about, and was instantly hooked on the structure, visuals, and pacing. It wasn’t until I willingly read other books I enjoyed that I enjoyed the peculiarity of “The Curious Incident” writing style, which introduced me to an eclectic mix of how authors arrange words and phrases that fit the perspective of the character(s) so readers can truly evaluate the situation from their point of view. The main character of the story, Christopher Boone, has Asperger’s Syndrome, and since the story is written in the first-person readers truly see the world as he does. This book also expanded my knowledge of Aspergers. Since obtaining my own copy, I make it my aim to read it at least once a year, sometimes I end up rereading it multiple times. 6 years later, it remains my favorite book of all time, and I have this book to thank for making me an avid reader, and inspiring me to write stories of my own.

As a young teenager during my junior year in high school, I had to grow up quickly and understand that my mother Linda Dupree, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Little did I know it will change my life. I had to accept that she will no longer be by my side in the next step of my life. Losing my mother changed my life, but also taught me strength, growth, and how to handle the grief. In my Junior year, prior to her illness, my mother had attended nearly every event my school held discussing parents’ role in College applications (ie. FAFSA, student loan information, etc.). She had the notes, prior knowledge, and some private meetings with my high school college advisor. My father and I had nothing to worry about until I had to go through my senior year of high school without her. It happened so quickly and to accept she was gone was the hardest part of my senior year. I didn’t realize the extent of my tenacity until she was gone. In many ways, I knew she was still with me spiritually. My Senior year was challenging and while my classmates had one or both parents able to help them, my father knew little to nothing about it. I had to set aside time between studying and homework to learn everything about the application process, down to financial aid documents, and have more meetings with my high school college advisor than other students. It was in my senior year that questions my mom didn’t get answered and were promised by people were supposed to be answered. I had to quickly take charge of the students’ and parents’ responsibilities of college application in the first few months of my Senior year. The majority of my classmates could focus solely on school, and their parents handled their end. I was able to manage some of it on my own, yet I worried about my grades dropping and not maintaining my GPA, thus not being accepted into the college of my choice and disappointing the rest of my family. I had to keep myself busy in order to focus and not let the grief affect my ability to succeed. Even though I was already dealing with many challenges, the pandemic hit, and I had to become even stronger not only for myself but for my father as well who is an essential worker in law enforcement. I would have never thought my senior year would be the year I would never forget. The process of accepting my new life without my mom and the many changes was a part of my growth as a young adult. The hardest stage was the grieving process and how it became unbearable at times. According to Joanne Cacciatore, “when a person beloved by us dies, our lives can become unbearable. And yet we are asked by life, by death to bear it, to suffer the insufferable, to endure the unendurable”. I agree with Joanne; it’s about accepting but never healing. I believe there are many stages of grief when losing a loved one. During this stage of my life as I enter my second year of college, I have learned that I can move through the many hurdles and succeed not only for myself but continue to honor my mother’s memory as well. In conclusion, losing my Mom to breast cancer had sudden and detrimental impacts on my academic pursuits in terms of applying to College. It also prepared me on how to handle real-life pressure and obstacles. In life, it’s about learning and growing as an individual and through real-life experiences. It helps you prepare for those moments in your education and career.

Covid-19 no doubt changed everyone's lives. Such an unprecedented event encouraged people to act quickly and opened people's eyes to a new life. For me, covid-19 came half-way through my senior year of high school. As a result, we had to switch to an online platform mid-year and cancel graduation. While I found the transition surprisingly easy, I worried for the people I attended school with who relied on school for internet/computer access and meals. It was then I learned how not everyone has the same privileges as others and no matter how they look on the outside, the life I see them living at school could be a different one than at home. I also learned the importance of not taking even the small things for granted. Something as simple and fun as spending 45 minutes at the bookstore was snatched away when COVID hit. I ordered a couple of books while in quarantine, but it didn't feel the same. The last time I was at a bookstore pre-covid was with my grandma, and I remember how fun it was for us, but I didn't think much of it since it was one of those things we had easy access to. I started reflecting on other things I was unable to enjoy anymore: Walking the dog, running, having family over, going to family events, going to the movies, etc. Amid that, I will say a benefit of covid was that it gave me more time to focus on hobbies and things I didn't have time for before: Reconnecting with my faith, reading, writing, playing piano, learning new languages, calling distant family members, and more. Unfortunately, I lost people close to me due to Covid, which was especially difficult considering I had seen most of them before my city was in quarantine (some only a week prior). Such losses also taught me how limited our time on Earth is. This goes back to reconnecting with my faith, in conjunction with being especially grateful for the family I still have. I still find it strange how it seemed the world stopped in the blink of an eye, and I fear getting too comfortable the longer this goes on because when we do get back to normal, it might be a difficult transition. Until then, I pray for everyone's safety, and I can't wait to discover more about myself.

I had an Uncle that wasn't close to me who died a few years ago. All I knew was that he had schizophrenia and although he saw a psychiatrist and took prescribed medication, he didn't have official clinical therapy alongside that could've helped along the way too. Going into 12th grade was around the time I was really getting fascinated with psychology and realized I wanted to be a clinical psychologist. I loved and thrived in AP psychology. Now, as a college freshman taking sophomore psychology classes, I believe I'm on the right track for my career. As an African-American Hispanic female of a single father and grandmother who used to be a teacher, I was always taught that there was almost nothing more important than for someone like me to get an education. I lost my mother to breast cancer two years ago, but I know doing well in school to achieve my dreams will bring honor to her and my remaining family. All they want is to see me succeed in whatever I do, emphasizing that it's not easy in the world for a minority such as me. What I hope to achieve is becoming a professional in the mental health field and being a role model for people of my skin color, heritage, and gender. I know I just started and have a long way to go, but I keep reminding myself that I also want to contribute to this field to be available to those unable to receive clinical help due to lack of availability, financial reasons, fear of stigma, shame, and/or any other factors that may be holding them back from getting the proper assistance they need. The more I read and become educated about severe mental abnormalities that clinical psychologists work with, the more I learn about the unfortunate stereotypes associated with them and how they usually stem from family and friends that inadvertently exacerbate the problem by instilling unwanted mental tension in the brain, making it more likely for the host of the illness to remain, if not be on the road to a state of suicidal ideation, and increasing the chance(s) of them attempting to take their own lives. I believe having more clinical psychologists will decrease these statistics and encourage more victims of mental illness to come forward with what's troubling them and learn to live stable lifestyles with abnormal cerebral processes. Also, having more African-American clinical psychologists will encourage African-Americans specifically to come forward unashamed, and realize that mental illness doesn't discriminate against anyone regardless of race and gender. The number of African-Americans who suffer from a mental disorder and don't see a therapist far outnumber the ones who do. This is usually due to shame and fear of ostracism from friends and family. I believe this also has to deal with the fact that there are more white male clinical psychologists in the world than there are black females. Yet, such people would rather suffer quietly than seek professional assistance. I'm preparing myself to achieve this goal and more by contemplating and analyzing such scenarios and using them as a source of inspiration to continue down the path I'm on in college and keeping my grades up, as well as building my graduate school application and resume by searching for summer internships in labs and places related to work in the psychological field.