As a little girl, my town consisted of a lot of cows and few people. It was the way my family and I liked it! Nothing but the smell of manure and hay fields - a city person's nightmare. As time progressed, we heard less mooing of the cows and more hammers building houses. The breeze flowing through the hay fields became replaced with children playing in their backyards. All of the hustle and bustle is foreign to me, and I feel as if our four-generation family farm is threatened by housing developers drooling over our plot of land. Developers are more concerned with making a profit and less concerned with preserving land. Through the fields of our farm lays a small, natural stream. My family enjoys the tranquility of this stream with the critters it attracts and the biodiversity it supports. This stream has been a staple of the farm. Near the edge of the stream, my favorite dog's grave has been thoughtfully selected to overlook the stream so that she can rest peacefully. A bench has been placed to overlook the sunsets while listening to the water travel over the rocks in the streambed. With neighborhoods encroaching, neighbors have found our secret spot and marked their territory with litter. Beer cans float in the water and candy bar wrappers are scattered near the bench. With no respect for my family's tranquil spot, I cannot fathom their lack of respect for the community. The farm currently functions as a horse farm, but with a shift in population, our plot of land can be utilized to combat the increasing pollution in our area. To address the issue of pollution, my family plans on dedicating a portion of our land to grow produce to sell at the local farmer's market, and the profit will be donated to support community conservation. To reduce our ecological footprint, we will switch to solar energy. With hundreds of acres of land, we have ample space to add solar panels to provide power to the barns and houses located on the farm. With our efforts, we hope to educate community members on the importance of preserving the land that once supported a farming community. Although the community lost the rolling hills filled with nothing but hay fields and ATV trails, we can still strive to preserve the community. While our farm can make an impact, the community needs to be invested in the efforts of land conservation. Another crucial step in conserving land involves talking with our local government to establish a program that organizes monthly community clean-up days to reduce pollution. To motivate the community to participate, the local government can incentivize the program with tax deductions. Cleaning the community is not solely for adults. Encouraging schools to educate students on the importance of the ecosystem and organizing trash clean-up days for students spreads awareness toward conservation. My community lost acres of trees and flowers, but with immediate attention, the stream on my family's farm can continue to support wildlife and be a source of tranquility for our family. Our community needs an advocate, and I hope to be the start of a cleaner environment in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Ugh, who wants to take entry-level Spanish in college? My hopes and dreams of leaving Spanish back in the four walls of high school vanished when I received my freshman year schedule. Of course, I had to get up before the rooster crows on Monday mornings to attend Spanish 201. I would quietly leave my dorm room at 7:55 A.M. to trench through the darkness while my roommate continued to sleep peacefully. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth every time I turned the doorknob to the classroom because of what followed. My professor screeched "buenos días" in a similar fashion to the hosts in a Mexican restaurant, which would be encouraging if it wasn't 8:00 A.M on Monday morning. I hope my point of complete and utter misery is being communicated clearly but stay with me here. My perspective on the class quickly changed when we began learning to communicate in sentences rather than learning colors, numbers, and letters that were taught in high school. I began reading books, watching movies, and listening to music in Spanish. On Monday mornings, I was not in a college classroom learning about the Spanish language. Instead, my imagination traveled to the streets of Argentina, Costa Rica, Peru, and Puerto Rico. These places were filled with fascinating histories and compassionate people. I was immersed in the culture and developed a passion for communicating with others in Spanish. Outside of the classroom, I became a pen pal with someone from Argentina. Through our conversations, my enthusiasm for Hispanic culture intensified, and I met with my professors to learn about the travel opportunities that the school offered. In the spring of 2020, I was enrolled to attend college in Valencia, Spain, and well, we know how that story ended. COVID squashed my traveling plans, but that did not stop my goal of becoming immersed in the culture. After discussing additional travel opportunities with my professors, we gathered a group of students to travel to the Dominican Republic to help provide medical attention to underserved, rural communities. Our mission was to act as translators between doctors and citizens, but of course, COVID made a comeback and canceled the trip. With graduation quickly approaching, my hope of traveling abroad and helping the community was not promising. In May of 2022, I turned my tassel at graduation without having the opportunity to fulfill my dreams. However, I graduated with a major in Biology and a minor in Spanish. Currently, my studies are dedicated to becoming a physician assistant, but I am aspiring to continue my dreams after graduate school. In 2024, I hope to close my physician assistant textbooks and brush off the dust of my Spanish textbooks to advance my Spanish minor into a major. With a Spanish major, my goal is to continue my undergraduate mission and travel to underserved Hispanic communities to provide treatment. With the ability to talk to an individual about medical complications they have been experiencing, I can lend a helping hand and help treat patients without having to use a translator. I hope that this makes the patients feel more comfortable and open to communication. The world is full of chaos and hatred, but hopefully extending my help and learning about other cultures can help reunite communities. Helping each other is what this world needs, and hopefully, my contributions will reach Hispanic communities all over the world.

The campus clock chimes midnight, and the last three girls in the library simultaneously glance upwards. I look to my left, and the brunette is hunched over her physics textbook and has dark circles around her eyes. I look to my right, and the girl with red hair is chewing her fingernails. The midnight oil is burning dim, and our morale is low. We all know each other from our science courses as we are pursuing STEM majors, and we often are the last ones to close our books in the library. I smile, close my book, and head in their direction with a mission to motivate my classmates. I sit down and explain my proposition. I take out my pencil container, and I spill the contents onto the wooden desk. I put the container in the middle of the table and begin to brainstorm my plan. My plan entails money and a point system. Each of us put money into the pencil container to save until the end of the semester, and throughout the semester, we would allot points for good grades, amount of time studying, and mental health breaks. During finals week, we would calculate the points and construct an essay explaining our successes throughout the semester. These essays would be submitted and evaluated by our professors and friends. Each evaluator would select the most deserving winner, and the person with the most votes would win. Through this friendly competition, we encouraged each other to succeed along with motivating ourselves to win the prize fund. We developed our own study group that met three days a week, and we always brought snacks (and maybe a few margaritas for motivation). In the end, we finished the semester with 4.0s, newfound friendships, and a little bit of extra cash.

Grandma knows best, right? As a child, my grandmother encouraged me to rise early on weekend mornings and dedicate our time to local organizations in the community, and while I cherish those memories, my ten-year-old self found volunteering completely dreadful. I trusted that my grandma was never wrong, but I stomped extra loud as we exited the house to ensure my grandmother knew that volunteering was not on my agenda. Driving along the curving country roads, she reminded me that volunteering teaches life lessons that could not be learned in the classroom, workplace, books, or television. By interacting with people and the community, you put on ‘truth goggles’ that reveal the beauty in the world. You disregard money, social status, political views, and religion, and you interact with people that have a similar mission: to support the community. 'Truth goggles,' allow you to formulate genuine opinions not being influenced by your pesky, political coworker or your overly opinionated history teacher. With the newfound beauty and simplicity, you begin to realize your own interests, and you distinguish between the passions that interest you and the passions that you wish to avoid. Now, continuing with my grandma’s tradition of volunteering, I dedicate my summers to rehabilitating injured horses, and through these experiences, I have learned valuable life lessons that transformed my lifelong goals. One summer evening, after a hack on my favorite thoroughbred named Coleman, I closed my eyes to feel the rhythm of his walk and listened to the birds chirping around me signaling the end of a warm summer day. I breathed in deeply, and with a long breath out, I realized that spending time with horses helps me find inner peace. All the stresses carried from the workplace and school quickly dissipated when my feet enter the stirrups, so does this mean I chose the wrong career? I clucked Coleman to continue walking, and I began to think about this question. Throughout my schooling, I have been preparing to become a physician assistant. Prior to volunteering, the countless nights spent hovering over an ill-light library desk with tear-stained cheeks seemed worth it because I would be making a steady six-figure salary. “Only a few more years of studying, and then, all this hard work will pay off. You will be rewarded soon,” or so I would tell myself. Work and school consumed my life, and I neglected to incorporate my passions into my lifestyle. During summer break, I was able to close my books, turn off my desk lamp, and jump into the saddle. While volunteering at the equine rehabilitation center, I discovered that life should involve a healthy balance of work and pleasure, and while I wish to continue my journey to pursue a career as a physician assistant, I want to incorporate my passion for horses into my life. My future involves rescuing injured horses to help strengthen the horse back to reach its fullest potential. Supporting a horse’s rehabilitation journey can pose challenges, but in the end, the result is rewarding. I learned that my life’s mission was to help both horses and humans. My volunteering opportunity helped me realize pieces of life's puzzle that were missing in my own life. I needed a passion that I could pursue that would help me destress after the workday. Relaxing with horses after a long shift at the hospital is the best form of mental therapy, and I could not think of a better way to end the night. Not even a mega glass of wine could beat that.

Beginning in middle school, I became obsessed with achieving perfection, and while my friends turned around on the bus gossiping about cute boys, I would stare at the heart crushing ‘B’ circled at the top of the page. Small errors induced panic and fear, and with my obsession of perfection, anxiety metastasized into my personal life like cancer. My fear of making minuscule, insignificant errors became a personality trait until I began focusing on my mental health through practicing self care. Self-care is a lifelong practice with mental and physical benefits, and fortunately, I discovered a passion that doubles as a self-care practice. Once I arrived home from school, I switched my tennis shoes for a pair of paddock boots, ran through the pastures, and greeted my pony who eagerly awaited for my arrival at her stall door. The moment my hand stroked her soft muzzle, my worries drifted away like a cloud. I latched her halter and began combing her mane. I cinched the girth and guided my horse toward my favorite trail. Her steady beat walking through the hay fields transported me from a world of stress to a world of euphoria and bliss. During these therapeutic walks, I realized that my pony accepted and loved me no matter the flaws, and I was sure that my friends and family would embrace me with loving arms as well. Post school walks became a daily ritual, and my mental health improved. Rather than fretting about mistakes that clouded my ability to succeed academically, I was able to relax spending my afternoons at the farm before I picked up the pencil to begin homework.

Recent obsessions with social media have shifted the interpretation of generosity. Today, people associate red hearts on their post as an act of generosity, and as a result, the old roots of generosity have quickly perished. Generosity is an act of love or appreciation that involves selflessly sharing your time to spread positivity in the world. As a child, my family instilled the importance of generosity, support, and contributing to the community. My family managed an equestrian facility that grew to be a local hit amongst children who wanted to spend their summer vacation enjoying fresh farm air. Wyndhaven farms created a summer camp program that instantly became a sensation in the community. Within days, registration for the summer camp closed, and for this accomplishment, we celebrated and prepared for the upcoming summer. However, during our preparation, my mother received an email from a parent whose child desperately wanted to be immersed in the equestrian culture, but his or her disabilities restricted him or her from participating. My mother believed that horses can heal any soul, so with a few accommodations, she incorporated time in the camp schedule to allow children with disabilities to spend their afternoons with the horses. When the campers arrived, smiles filled the barn as the campers pet each of the horses’ necks. Seeing their ear-to-ear smiles taught me generosity has no monetary or social values. Generosity allows people to share a smile and spread happiness throughout the community.

Across the nation, students struggle to finance their education each semester. While at school, my course load restricted job opportunities. Bills continued to stack up on the kitchen counter. I opened my empty wallet, and my anxiety built up. My bank account lacked even a single penny, but I needed to pay for daily necessities. I could not keep living with a dry bank account. After a late night of studying, I feverishly googled “Top 10 Ways to Save Money,” and with finding some helpful tips, I discovered money saving tips that I could incorporate in my life! Following this Google search, I began investing portions of my paycheck into mutual funds. My money began to grow, and the pile of bills on my kitchen counter diminished to one single bill. I opened the bill, and it indicated a balance of $500 to reserve my spot in Carlow University’s Physician Assistant program. With a $1,000 scholarship, I will utilize $500 to secure my spot in the program, $80 for comfortable shoes to support my feet during clinical rotations, and roughly $200 on the required textbooks for the semester. Continuing with my newly learned money saving tips, I will invest the remaining $220 into a mutual fund to allow my money to passively grow. As the following semester approaches, I will utilize the invested money to purchase additional school necessities. Rather than utilizing the scholarship during one shopping spree, I will stretch the money to help finance graduate school.

Before the bell, I stood at my high school anatomy teacher’s desk eagerly waiting to ask her questions relating to my latest lacrosse injury. When I visited my family physician regarding the injury, he slapped a band-aid on and recommended two ibuprofen. I followed his vague instructions, but he never discussed the anatomy behind the injury. However, I wanted to know more about my bumps, scrapes, and bruises. My eagerness in high school directed my college studies to focus on biology. The validation that I selected the correct major came to me during the COVID-19 pandemic. News broadcasts repeatedly featured mortality rates and overcrowded hospitals resulting from COVID-19. As Thanksgiving approached, government officials restricted family visitation, and families desperately wanted to enjoy Thanksgiving dinners with grandparents residing in nursing homes. Watching families celebrate through nursing home windows shattered my heart. My heart ached for those in isolated nursing homes without family, so I volunteered my smile to a lady battling dementia, who I will call Izzy. At first, Izzy told stories of adventures and meaningful connections to family members, but after establishing a relationship with Izzy, I noticed a sudden decline of her cognitive health. Izzy expressed frustration with her inability to recall her daughter’s name, her favorite cookie recipe, and her wedding anniversary. Conversations began to include imaginary friends and elaborate, fictional stories involving monsters under her bed. Without family visitation, she lost all connections and memories involving her family, and her condition progressively worsened without socialization and proper medical staff. Dementia erased her fondest memories and destroyed her personality until her eyes became lifeless. I watched dementia drain the personality out of an innocent lady. While anatomy courses teach signs of dementia, my experience with Izzy provided a realistic and personal connection to dementia. By Fall 2021, our visits together involved reading lighthearted stories to ease her anxious mind. Hearing stories of children adopting kittens and beach romances, Izzy sat with her eyes closed and a warm smile. For a moment, she forgot about her vanishing memory and enjoyed the serenity of right now. Books help patients enduring mental and physical pain escape to a world created in their minds free of suffering. In Izzy’s case, books turned tears into a personable smile as the stories remind her of her relationship with her husband. After story time, I closed the book and notice Izzy’s smile weaken as I left the room. ​I mentioned my concerns to the nursing staff, but they ignored my worries and treated Izzy with inadequate affection and care. As Izzy’s friend and advocate, I felt frustrated while she sat in her favorite red chair defeated and disoriented. Feeling confused about your health can be frightening, and I admire a physician assistant’s ability to create meaningful connections with patients and explain confusing medical terms. Izzy could have been comforted by someone holding her hand and explaining her condition. I aspire to become a physician assistant with the education and authority to provide personalized treatments. Treatment plans extend past prescribing medicine as they also require compassion and empathy to comfort and help a patient through the healing process. Although Izzy’s condition lacked a curable treatment, I wish I could have been more involved with Izzy’s life to spread positivity and ensure that she lived comfortably throughout the rest of her days. She deserved better treatment as she spent her final days staring out the window. As a physician assistant, I could have provided comfort to ease her pain and listened to her fictional tales alongside her imaginary friends.

As the second hand of the clock ticks, anxiety builds inside the heart, the chest tightens to maximum capacity, beads of sweat sting your face, and adrenaline overtakes the blood stream. Tension radiates from your body and spreads to the people around you. Well, in my life, tension in my body rapidly spread at the speed of lightening from my head and through my extremities to reach my horses body. Horses are sensitive to emotions whether it be joy, fear, or anger. Negative emotions while riding my horse blocked all lines of communication. My horse would refuse to listen to me until I controlled my emotions because when I felt stress, she felt stress. Eighteen years horseback riding taught me the importance of patience. Without patience and emotional control, communication fails. At the moment you lose patience, adrenaline spreads, and your horse engages in a fight or flight response. The horse quickens its pace as it gallops through the arena, and you hug the horses neck to avoid falling into the dirt. As your last finger releases from the horse’s mane, you have just enrolled yourself into Patience 101. As I grew older, my ability to remain patient under stressful situations improved, I fell less, and my ability to train and communicate with horses drastically improved. Patience served as a useful skill throughout my childhood, and now as a student pursuing a graduate degree, it will serve as a useful skill with my future career as a physician assistant. If a treatment plan lacks efficacy, the medical staff must remain patient and find alternative remedies to better the health of their patients. Allowing frustration cloud your thought process interferes with critical thinking skills. Patience will be a skill that I will always practice to ensure I succeed at my career.

Alarm clock on snooze. Textbooks lay open on the desk. Sticky notes haphazardly hanging from the desk. The bags under my eyes continuously growing. This is a realistic glimpse into the life of a student struggling with mental health while continuing to maintain a studious 4.0. With my mental health on a decline, I needed some sort of therapy, so I thought of the best therapist around: my horse. Born and raised on a farm, naps were taken in the hayloft, and cool, refreshing drinks flowed from the natural spring. My entire life was spent on a farm. Thinking back on my childhood, I remember blue summer skies that warmed my skin, air that smelled like hay, and my pony grazing on fresh grass in the pasture. Ah, a nostalgic memory. During the most stressful and intense moments of studying, I would close my eyes and picture this moment. I felt as if I was living in that daydream. If only I could return to this moment of pure serenity, but how could I? My horses were back home enjoying the sunshine while I felt trapped in my dorm room forced to study. I felt claustrophobic and stuck, so back to daydreaming I went. This time, I entered a flashback of me and my pony galloping through a stream. Luckily, the flashback played in slow motion, so I could see my smile grow with each of my pony’s strides. I could feel myself smile sitting at my desk daydreaming of this moment. I had to tell myself “Come on, Lexi, back to studying!” It may sound like my hobby is daydreaming, but the reality is my favorite hobby is spending blissful moments with my horses. Time spent with horses instantly vanishes stress. Even remembering my fondest, simplistic moments with my horses eased the stressors of school. To maintain competitive grades, I had to find an alternative to daydreaming, though. I found a healthy alternative that involved improving my mental health and my studying habits. On weekend, I sat in my dorm and looked outside at the cloudless sky, and thought of an amazing solution. Within seconds, I packed my bag with my books, started my car, and drove straight to my family’s farm. Pulling in the bumpy farm lane, I saw my pony in her pasture eating grass. As I approached, she lifted her head and perked her ears forward. She was excited to see me as I was excited to see her. I walked up to her and fed her an apple from the tree behind my parents’ house. I hoped on her back, pulled out my books, and began to study. Problem solved! As I read my textbook, I stroked her mane and enjoyed the air that smelled of hay. I went back to feelings like a child, and it was pure bliss.