While working with the Guide Dog Foundation during both my undergraduate education and veterinary school, I have seen firsthand how one “small” medical concern can have life-changing consequences. As a volunteer puppy raiser and trainer for over four years, some of the most difficult moments have been watching incredibly smart, driven dogs that love to work get released from the program due to dermatologic issues. Most commonly, we saw dogs released because of chronic allergies, persistently itchy paws, and recurrent ear infections, especially here in the South. These were dogs that had everything it takes to become amazing service animals, yet they were ultimately released because of conditions that, in many cases, may have been managed with more advanced care. That experience is what first pulled me toward an interest in dermatology. At the University of Georgia, our second year focuses on the “unhealthy animal,” and this semester I have begun diving deeper into dermatologic disease. As I have built more clinical knowledge, I have come to understand just how significant these conditions are, not only for working dogs, but for any animal’s quality of life. When I think back to my time with the Guide Dog Foundation, skin issues often felt final: “itchy ears” or “inflamed skin” meant immediate release from the program. Now, I see how much more could be done. Dermatology has shown me that these cases are rarely black and white. They require in depth history taking, pursuing more thorough diagnostics, and committing to identifying the true underlying cause rather than treating for temporary relief. That shift in perspective has fueled my passion for the field. While I am strongly considering a career as a general practitioner, my goal is to never treat dermatology as an afterthought. In general practice, it can be easy to fall into patterns of quick fixes, but I want to approach these cases differently. I want to be the veterinarian who sends out samples for histopathology, evaluates samples under the microscope, and takes the extra steps to reach a diagnosis. By bringing a higher level of derm care into general practice, I hope to help bridge the gap between clients who can pursue specialty care and those who cannot. As a general practitioner, I would love to be able to care for future service dogs in training, and address the gaps in veterinary care that I experienced as a puppy raiser. At the same time, I recognize the importance of collaboration within this field. I hope to build strong relationships with board-certified veterinary dermatologists in my area so that I can consult on challenging cases, make the appropriate referrals, and continue learning from specialists throughout my career. In doing so, I plan to elevate the standard of care I can provide while maintaining the accessibility that general practice offers. I am also still strongly drawn to a potential specialty career in dermatology, though. As a rising third-year student, I am currently planning my clinical rotations, and one of my top priorities is a small animal dermatology rotation. Through this experience, I hope to further develop my clinical skills, deepen my understanding of dermatologic disease, and explore how I can continue to incorporate this field into my future career. No matter what path I take, I am committed to providing the highest level of care possible, pushing beyond quick fixes to deliver meaningful, lasting outcomes for my patients, especially in the field of dermatology.

Currently, I give back by building community and raising futures—both human and canine alike! As an undergraduate, I co-founded a chapter of oSTEM (Out in STEM), a national nonprofit organization that supports LGBTQ+ students in science-related fields. As a queer woman pursuing veterinary medicine, I often felt out of place in classrooms and labs, with few peers who shared my identity. Through oSTEM, we created a space where students could be their authentic selves, connect with queer mentors, and access professional development resources in an affirming environment. I helped organize workshops, host guest speakers, and build support networks, all tailored to helping queer students thrive in their STEM fields. Founding oSTEM has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life and helped solidify my passion for community-centered advocacy. Outside of academics, I’m involved with the Guide Dog Foundation, where I raise and train future service dogs for people with disabilities. These incredible dogs go on to become essential companions for individuals with visual impairments, helping enhance their independence and confidence in daily life. I’ve raised two guide dogs, Sam and Luna, and have learned so much about advocating not only for service dogs, but also for the people who depend on them. My role included teaching basic obedience, socializing them in public spaces, and instilling strong behavioral foundations to prepare them for official guide dog training at 16 months of age. Working with these dogs has been profoundly rewarding—knowing I’m part of their journey toward changing someone’s life is deeply meaningful. The Guide Dog Foundation has shown me how purpose-driven training and compassion can intersect to create real, lasting impact. These two forms of service, queer advocacy and training service dogs, might seem like separate parts of my life, but they are both rooted in the same value: building a better, more inclusive world. Whether I’m guiding a student through their first resume or a puppy through early training, I’m investing in futures. Looking ahead, I plan to continue this work as a veterinarian. My dream is to open a community-based clinic that offers accessible care for small animals and underserved species, including pocket pets and small exotics. These animals can sometimes suffer due to a lack of affordable or knowledgeable veterinary care. I want to change that by becoming a practitioner who specializes in both wellness and education, offering clients the tools they need to care for all their animals, no matter the species. I also plan to offer discounted services for working animals and service dogs, ensuring they receive the high-quality care they deserve. These animals work tirelessly to support their humans, and they deserve the same support in return through compassion and medical care that reflects their value. At the same time, I will continue advocating for diversity within veterinary medicine. I currently serve as President of VOICE (Veterinarians as One Inclusive Community for Empowerment), a national organization that promotes equity and inclusion in the veterinary field. Through VOICE, I’ve helped lead conversations around diverse identities, cultures, and acceptance in clinical and academic spaces. My goal is to help reshape the profession into one where all people, regardless of identity or background, can thrive. Veterinary medicine is still not an inclusive field, and visibility matters. I want to be the vet that younger students can come to for anything. Through dogs and diversity, I’ve found two ways to give back that feel deeply personal and impactful. And through veterinary medicine, I’ll continue growing that impact by creating a future where care is accessible, people are seen, and animals are treated with the dignity they deserve.

Mental health and queerness are often tightly entangled, and as a queer kid growing up in the Deep South, I am no stranger to these struggles. At twelve, I had just started to understand that I was “different,” when I didn’t have crushes on the boys in my class like my friends did. I had already heard enough jokes and unkind words at home to know I wouldn’t be accepted. With no real support system, I turned to self-harm and developed unhealthy coping mechanisms I wouldn’t begin to unlearn until high school, when I finally met other queer friends. These lifelong challenges are why prioritizing both my mental and physical health has become essential to me. Although I found a small sense of community in high school, it wasn’t until college that I truly began to take care of myself, accept my identity, and build spaces for others. I co-founded a chapter of oSTEM, a club dedicated to uplifting queer students in STEM fields. Finding this community and my passion for queer advocacy was one of the best things I could have done for my mental well-being. I found friends, queer mentors, and a sense of belonging I had always been missing. This support gave me the courage to begin therapy and focus on recovery, where I learned to care for myself in a way that felt sustainable and affirming. Therapy introduced me to journaling, which quickly became one of my favorite ways to manage emotions during stressful times. Writing helps me process what I’m feeling, recognize my patterns, and stay grounded during the chaos of vet school. Therapy also taught me how deeply our minds and bodies are connected, and I slowly began spending more time at the gym. Even something as simple as walking on the treadmill made my thoughts feel lighter and my body feel more at ease. Movement became a tool to destress and center myself in the moment, improving both my mental and physical health in ways I never expected. Now that I’m in veterinary school, maintaining my well-being is more important than ever. Veterinary school is academically rigorous and emotionally exhausting. As a queer student in a historically less diverse field, the pressure to prove myself can feel especially heavy. There have been nights full of doubt and burnout, but also moments of immense growth and pride. Choosing to care for myself in this environment is not always easy, but it's necessary so I can achieve my dream of becoming a veterinarian. I’ve learned that my wellness is also deeply tied to advocacy and community-building. I currently serve as President of VOICE (Veterinarians as One Inclusive Community for Empowerment), a student group that promotes equity and inclusion in veterinary medicine. Through VOICE, I’ve helped organize conversations around mental health, LGBTQ+ identities, and the need for affirming spaces in our field. My goal is to help reshape vet med into a profession where all people, regardless of identity or background, can thrive. To me, wellness means being allowed to exist fully. It means seeking care without shame, honoring my limits, and showing up for myself, always. As a future vet, I want to be an advocate for my clients and patients, and I can’t do this without proper wellness and care. Taking care of myself is no longer optional. It’s an act of resistance. It’s an act of love. And it’s what allows me to keep showing up for myself, for my future patients, and for every vet student who still feels like they have to hide to survive.

My favorite song on brat is “365” because every time I hear it, I’m immediately transported back to one of my favorite memories. The first time I went to New York City was the summer before I started veterinary school. It was one of my last chances to travel before diving headfirst into textbooks and anatomy labs. That trip was everything I imagined the big city would be, I had high tea in Greenwich, wandered through the MOMA, and thrived in the hustle and energy of the streets. More importantly, it was a space where I could exist fully. I felt free to express myself, to be visibly queer, and to take up space without apology. My best friend and I went out every evening, visiting queer spaces across the city and dancing until morning. And every night, “365” was played, echoing through tiny, packed dance floors filled with glitter, dancing, and other queer people who made me feel accepted. Every time it came on, I danced and screamed the lyrics louder than the night before. For once, I wasn’t worrying about how I looked or who might be watching. I was just me. I grew up in the Deep South, where queerness wasn’t something you danced about, it was something you hid. That trip was one of the first times I felt I could be loud about it. I could live openly, feel beautiful, and be surrounded by people who didn’t just tolerate my identity, but celebrated it. Now, when I hear “365,” I don’t just hear a song. I remember what those nights gave me: confidence, freedom, and a version of myself I never want to let go of. I remember how beautiful the city looked, how safe I felt in that bar, how we collapsed into laughter on the subway platform. Whenever I play 365, I feel the joy and freeness I felt in New York City, and it pushes me to find that same freedom and happiness in veterinary school. That’s why “365” is my favorite. Not just because of the production or the lyrics, though I love those too, but because it holds a memory I’ll never let go of.

Growing up queer in the Deep South meant learning how to hide. Hide the way I glanced at other girls when my heart fluttered. Hide the quiet panic in my chest whenever my dad made a snarky “joke” about gay people. I spent years trying to erase my identity so no one would see who I truly was. At twelve years old, I had just started to understand that I was different. With unrestricted access to the internet and countless “Am I Gay?” quizzes, I finally found the words for what felt off about me. Gay. Queer. Lesbian. I didn’t want to think about it. I had already heard enough jokes and unkind comments at home to know that this part of me wouldn’t be accepted. Mental health and queerness are often tightly entangled, especially when young queer kids lack support. I felt completely alone. I turned to self-harm and developed an eating disorder, both coping mechanisms that gave me a false sense of control in a life that felt entirely out of my hands. Middle and high school made me feel like I had to live in survival mode. But eventually, I found community. I am fortunate that in high school, I met queer friends who helped save me. They gave me tools for better coping and, more importantly, showed me that my queerness wasn’t something to be ashamed of. It wasn’t until college that I truly found the community I had always needed. Meeting LGBTQ+ students who were unapologetically themselves in the South empowered me! Away from home, I saw a version of life where being queer didn’t mean hiding in the shadows. I began to build confidence and define my own version of what being “out” meant. One of the ways I built this confidence was by co-founding a chapter of oSTEM (Out in STEM), a national organization that supports LGBTQ+ students in STEM fields. I wanted to create a safe space I didn’t have growing up, in a field where queer representation was desperately needed. Founding oSTEM changed my life. For the first time ever, I wasn’t just surviving, I was thriving and accepting of my queerness! I’m proud that Out in STEM has become one of the most active LGBTQ+ clubs on my college campus. It's helped so many Southern LGBTQIA+ students find resources, support, and friends in their STEM fields. Currently, I’m a veterinary student, but I’m still healing and I still carry the weight of my younger self every day. Being queer in vet med can absolutely still feel isolating as it’s not a field known for its diversity. Through my work in oSTEM, I discovered my passion for advocacy work and that’s something I’ve carried with me into veterinary school. I am currently the president of VOICE, a club that promotes diversity and inclusivity within the veterinary profession. Not only am I committed to being the best clinician I can possibly be, but I’m also dedicated to ensuring that I am an advocate for my diverse clients and patients as a veterinarian. I want my clinic to be a place where every client, student, and co-worker feels safe and respected. There’s no denying that surviving is messy, recovery is tricky, and that healing can take a lifetime. But my struggles have made me the compassionate, driven, and proudly queer woman I am today. I am here because others reminded me that queerness is something to celebrate. And I’m so grateful to still be here, sharing that love, living that truth, and building a future where others can do the same.

As a queer woman pursuing a career in veterinary medicine, Chappell Roan’s music has been a constant reminder to stay true to myself, even when the world makes that feel impossible. Her music doesn’t just make me happy—it makes me feel seen. When I listen to songs like Pink Pony Club, I hear someone who understands what it's like to grow up differently, and how complicated it can be to want bigger things for yourself when others around you may not understand. Chappell’s story hits home for me because, like her, I grew up queer in a place that didn’t always celebrate differences. She’s from the Midwest; I’m from the Deep South. In both places, being openly queer and authentic to your true self isn’t always valued or accepted. You’re often taught to shrink yourself down to fit in, with frowns of disapproval thrown your way for being yourself. Seeing her unapologetically take up space with her music, her style, and her persona reminds me that I don’t have to make myself smaller to chase my dreams. Queer activism and representation have always been a crucial part of my identity. During undergrad, I co-founded oSTEM, a club dedicated to uplifting and supporting LGBTQ+ students in STEM-related fields. Creating oSTEM was essential in helping me accept my own queer identity, while also working to build a platform for other queer students on my college campus in the Deep South. As a current veterinary student, I have continued this activism through VOICE, a club that promotes diversity within veterinary medicine. Given the current political environment and the defunding of DEI programs in higher education, it’s more important than ever to stand up for my rights and my place in this profession. This is a fight and a cause I believe Chappell would be proud of. Chappell Roan has shown me the power in embracing your true self, and that joy, visibility, and confidence are all acts of activism within their own right. Supporting Chappell Roan is about more than loving her music (which I absolutely do). It’s about embodying what she represents. It’s about carrying her confidence, her love of queerness, and her belief that queer women deserve to take up space loudly and fearlessly. She makes me want to keep going, even when the fight seems daunting. I believe her music and her activism show young queer women everywhere that they deserve to be seen and celebrated. Whether it’s her performing on a stage, or me treating someone's pet as a future veterinarian, she’s shown me how powerful and successful queerness can be. My queer identity will always be a part of everything I do. It drives me to be a future veterinarian, and it fuels my passion for advocacy within the veterinary field. That’s why I’ll always support her and why I’m so grateful for the space she holds for each and every one of us.

My entire life, I’ve always been surrounded by my furry, slobbery, best friends. I love dogs because they’ve given me companionship, love, and emotional support my entire life. The dogs I’ve owned have never simply been ‘just animals’ to me; they’re a piece of my heart. When going to college, the thought of leaving my childhood dog, Wendy, at home was devastating. I’d no longer be greeted by her aggressive tail wagging at the door, or her slobbery kisses first thing in the morning. A new environment with no dogs was something I wasn’t ready to face. How was I going to get through the stresses of college and the struggles of Organic Chemistry without cuddles from a dog? During my first week of college, I started noticing pups trotting around campus, wearing bright yellow vests. Students were training future guide dogs, and I immediately knew that this was something I needed to be involved in. Seeing these dogs and their wagging tails on campus led me to join my campus’ branch of the Guide Dog Foundation, and helped me to start raising my first guide dog in training: Sam. Raising and training Sam has changed my life and has led me to understand different aspects of the human-dog relationship. Of course, Sam still provides me with cuddles and love when I’m swamped with school work and needing support, but he has also taught me how to embrace a relationship with a working dog. Sam has shown me that not only do I love dogs for their love and camaraderie, but I also love dogs for their resilience and intelligence. I’m not going to sugarcoat it though, training a puppy to become a future guide dog is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. Even though it’s the most difficult task I’ve ever taken on, I’ve never been closer with any dog than I am with Sam. Sam has shown me how important respect is when it comes to dog training. If Sam and I didn’t respect and trust each other, we’d never be able to be where we are now in our training, at only five months old. I’m closer to Sam than with any other dog because of this trust and respect we’ve built together, and because of the sense of accomplishment both of us feel after mastering a skill. Training a service dog has made me love dogs more than I ever have before. I see dogs now not only as loving best friends, but also as smart beings, capable of anything with a little bit of hard work. Not only is Sam my loving boy that gives me kisses when I’m sad, but he’s also a hard working and driven future service dog. Sam hasn’t just changed my understanding and love for dogs, he’s also impacted my future plans. When it’s time for him to begin his official training, I plan on raising another future guide dog, something I never would have even considered before college. And as a veterinarian, I hope to partner with an organization that raises and trains guide dogs, so I can still give back to this amazing community, by caring and treating these dogs medically. Sam has shown me that I love dogs when they’re wagging their tails, just as much as when they’re in a yellow vest, walking through the grocery store. When Sam moves on to official training, I’ll be losing a part of me, but with all he’s taught me, and all I’ve learned, I’m proud knowing one day he’ll be someone else’s eyes and future best friend.

apply

My entire life, I’ve always been surrounded by my furry, slobbery, best friends. I love dogs because they’ve given me companionship, love, and emotional support my entire life. Because of this, dogs have never simply been ‘just animals’ to me; they’re a piece of my heart. When going to college, the thought of leaving my childhood dog, Wendy, at home was devastating. I’d no longer be greeted by her aggressive tail wagging at the door, or her slobbery kisses first thing in the morning. A new environment with no dogs was something I wasn’t ready to face. How was I going to get through the stresses of college and the struggles of Organic Chemistry without cuddles from a dog? During my first week of college, I started noticing pups trotting around campus, wearing bright yellow vests. Students were training future guide dogs, and I immediately knew that this was something I needed to be involved in. Seeing these dogs and their wagging tails on campus led me to join my campus’ branch of the Guide Dog Foundation, and helped me to start raising my first guide dog in training: Sam. Raising and training Sam has changed my life and has led me to understand different aspects of the human-dog relationship. Of course, Sam still provides me with cuddles and love when I’m swamped with school work and needing support, but he has also taught me how to embrace a relationship with a working dog. Sam has shown me that not only do I love dogs for their love and camaraderie, but I also love dogs for their resilience and intelligence. I’m not going to sugarcoat it though, training a puppy to become a future guide dog is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. Even though it’s the most difficult task I’ve ever taken on, I’ve never been closer with a dog than I am with Sam. Sam has shown me how important respect is when it comes to dog training. If Sam and I didn’t respect and trust each other, we’d never be able to be where we are now in our training, at only five months old. I’m closer to Sam than with any other dog because of this trust and respect we’ve built together, and because of the sense of accomplishment both of us feel after mastering a skill. Training a service dog has made me love dogs more than I ever have before. I see dogs now not only as loving best friends, but also as smart beings, capable of anything with a little bit of hard work. Not only is Sam my loving boy that gives me kisses when I’m sad, but he’s also a hard working and driven future service dog. Sam hasn’t just changed my understanding and love for dogs, he’s also impacted my future plans. When it’s time for him to begin his official training, I plan on raising another future guide dog, something I never would have even considered before college. And as a veterinarian, I hope to partner with an organization that raises and trains guide dogs, so I can still give back to this amazing community, by caring and treating these dogs medically. Sam has shown me that I love dogs when they’re wagging their tails, just as much as when they’re in a yellow vest, walking through the grocery store. When Sam moves on to official training, I’ll be losing a part of me, but with all he’s taught me, and all I’ve learned, I’m proud knowing one day he’ll be someone else’s eyes and future best friend.

If $1,000 magically found its way wedged into my wallet, I’d have to hold back a scream of excitement. $1,000 dollars. There’s so much I could buy with that money. I could buy 40 new hardback books from Barnes and Noble, that new makeup palette from Sephora I’ve been eyeing for months, or about 840 M&Ms bags. Although it’s nice to consider the guilty pleasures I could buy with $1,000, I know that I’d rather spend that money in a more productive and meaningful way. Half of the $1,000 would go towards my tuition for my fall semester and the other half would go towards helping my mom pay her medical bills. In January of 2022, my mom was hospitalized with covid pneumonia for a week. About six months later and she’s still on oxygen and having monthly doctors appointments. Her medical care is so expensive and I’d like to alleviate some of these costs. As my biggest supporter of my dream of becoming a veterinarian, my mom has always been the one on the phone with me at 12 in the morning, just so I wouldn't have to study organic chemistry alone. She's the first to reassure me after I take a hard exam, and always there to tell me that she knows I can do it. My mom would want me to use the entire magically appearing $1,000 for school, but I know that she deserves the same love and support that she's given me.

As a future veterinarian and current animal science major, a common theme in a lot of my classes is the importance of healthy and sustainable food practices. One thing I've learned in my introductory course to animal science is that most people don't understand the difference between "natural" and "organic" food labels, and that they usually think of fruits and vegetables first when it comes to agriculture and its regulations. As an animal science major, I am dedicated to agricultural communication and to promoting education around our food and where it comes from. A product being labeled natural doesn't always mean what consumers think it does. A natural label isn't regulated by the USDA and can still contain antibiotics or GMOs, depending on a companies' definition of natural. On the other hand, organic must be certified by the USDA and the FDA. Organic products must be monitored and clear of additives such as GMOs, antibiotics, and growth hormones. My food being "natural" is important to me, which is why I think it's important to clearly define what it means, and why food labeled as organic is the "natural" most consumers are actually looking for. I currently work in a meat sciences lab on campus, where I've been able to practice science communication by presenting my research. I've been able to learn a lot on how meat is labeled, and what different factors can affect livestock, such as stress, poor living conditions, and unbalanced diets. By understanding how these factors can affect the animals we eat, we can make sure their welfare is held at a higher standard. This is extremely common in farms that promote organic practices! By having grass-fed cows, and free-range animals, they live in a low-stress environment that can prevent build up of lactic acid, which can affect meat quality. This paired with no GMOs, through natural feeds like grass and grain, makes meat healthier to consume and more pleasing to the general public. By focusing on grass-fed or pasture raised operations, organic farms have been able to have a positive environmental impact! Cow farms have gotten a bad rap with the environment because of the runoff, and greenhouse gas emissions associated with them. Organic farms help to combat these issues with pastures for grazing and natural feeds. With large areas to graze, and with no water sources nearby, cows and other grazing animals can evenly spread manure without risk of contaminating the water. And by continuing to utilize organic feeds, which avoid pesticides that could be harmful to livestock, less toxic compounds leach into the ground, making sure the soil stays rich with nutrients to support future livestock. We are in an age where we are demanding to know where our food comes from, how it is treated, and what goes into it. This transparency is something we will have to continue to advocate for as leaders in agriculture. And with my interests in animal welfare as a future veterinarian, this is something I will continue to be involved in. With olive oil being perfect for cooking meats like steak, giving it a delicious, peppery flavor, advocating for clean food and sustainable practices can help make sure we will always have the delicious, and healthy foods we crave in our lives.

Dr. Jane Goodall, a world renowned primatologist, is my favorite scientist because of her lifelong dedication to showing how compassion for all walks of life is a part of conservation. She inspires me because with no more than a notebook and her wits, she ventured into the forest of Gombe to study wild chimpanzees, which no one before her had done. Her findings revolutionized conservation as she advocated for the needs of both the animals and the local people in the area, helping to redefine our understanding of relationships between animals and humans. By integrating herself into their habitat, she proved that chimpanzees have complex social hierarchies, emotional bonds, and can make tools, all things that were previously thought to solely belong to humans.

This is my dog Wendy, who's absolutely spoiled rotten. She won't sleep unless she has a blanket and a pillow by her side. Though, as a rescue that was found dumped on the side of a road, I know that she's worth everything. My family and I aren't sure how tough her past life was, so we want to do everything in our power to make sure her life with us is comfortable and full of as many warm blankets as she wants. I love Wendy more than anything and she deserves every kiss and warm snuggle she gets.

As a queer woman attending a large university in the South dominated by football and sororities, it can be hard to find a space I belong to. I don’t always see representation for me, nor safe spaces for my identity. Last year during my freshman year, I felt alone and insecure. Was there really a place for me in STEM? Was I even good enough to be pursuing veterinary medicine? I was tired of feeling this way, and if I couldn't find a space for me in my community, I decided I was going to make one. Last semester, with a group of friends, I started oSTEM and became the Secretary of the first ever organization of its kind on my campus. oSTEM stands for out in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math and it provides a space for LGBTQIA+ students in STEM to grow professionally and personally. Running this chapter on campus means so much to me because it has created an outlet for representation that my university was lacking. In my community, I want to see more advocacy for queer students both within STEM and on my campus. I've started to make small waves of change on my campus. So far, we've held community events like 'oSTEM Thrifting' at the Goodwill and a "Back to School Bash' so other LGBTQ+ students in STEM can meet each other. To me, the most important part of oSTEM has been being able to create a space for queer students to connect and see that they’re not alone in the world of STEM. We've also planned professional building activities like a Resume Critiquing Night and have had BIPOC and LGBTQ+ leaders in STEM as guest speakers. Having these events is so important because of how easy it is for queer students to fall victim to the imposter syndrome, making them believe they aren't good enough to be in STEM. Having these events helps to prepare LGBTQ students for STEM fields in an inclusive space and shows them that they can take up space in STEM, and that they should do so loudly. My goal is to make sure that everyone who comes to oSTEM leaves feeling more empowered. Though this directly impacts my college community, I want to be able to continue my work in representation and queer activism as a future veterinarian. In veterinary school, there's little to no data on the amount of LGBTQ+ vets in the field, and what little we have tells us that most veterinary students choose not to be out in veterinary school or as a practicing professional. If the college I go to doesn't have a club for LGBTQ+ veterinarians, I plan on making one. One thing I've learned so far through oSTEM is that authentic representation makes all the difference. Representation made me feel more confident and connected to the students on my campus. It made me feel seen and worthy to be in STEM. I know that if this sense of community isn't present in graduate school, it could make tackling veterinary school that much harder for those that are missing a supportive and accepting community. As a queer student interested in veterinary medicine, I have yet to find another LGBTQ veterinarian in the field. This lack of representation has made me feel like an outlier and through oSTEM, I've been able to combat a lot of those doubts. But, I know not all students have the access I have to representation. So, as a veterinarian, I want to implement a shadowing program to allow LGBTQ and other minority students a chance to experience veterinary medicine first hand. Gaining veterinary hours is crucial to a strong veterinary school application and those with less support might find this even harder to complete than their peers. By starting this shadowing initiative, I hope to show students early on that STEM and veterinary medicine is accessible to everyone. The differing point of views that diversity gives us is going to push us forward as a society. Having queer, BIPOC, and other diverse veterinarians is going to make a field that is more accepting and welcoming to a wide variety of clients. Diversity is how we are going to make veterinary medicine more accessible to everyone! Veterinary medicine should not just belong to white, cis practitioners and I want to make sure veterinary medicine continues to grow as a field. We're the future, and I don't want any aspiring veterinarian questioning their path like I once did.

In December of 2020, my grandfather died from COVID-19. Just writing that simple sentence takes a little bit of my spirit and hope. My grandfather with COPD, who was always in and out of hospitals, died from someone in the ER passing COVID-19 on to him. I can't help but think that maybe the outcome would have been different if more people had been vaccinated, through guidance of public health professionals. What if half of his community in rural Tennessee had gotten the COVID-19 vaccine? Would he still be here today? As someone interested in public health, contemplating these painful questions infuriates me, but asking them is the only way to continue to advocate for education around vaccines and health. In fact, some people are so misled about the vaccine that they’re taking ivermectin, a dewormer for livestock. This medicine is crucial to so many veterinarians, and with people buying it as a homemade vaccine, veterinarians are facing a threatening lack of the medicine. As a future vet, this is worrisome. If veterinarians were more involved in community health conversations along with Doctors, they may have been able to stop this trend before it had spread and caused a national shortage of ivermectin. When my grandfather died, it was especially hard on my Dad. After my grandpa passed, he started to spend more time with my brother and I, even if it was just a ten minute trip to the store. His passing was the first real death I’ve ever had to deal with and it’s shown me how fragile life really is. It can be over in a split second, and I refuse to miss any of it. Because of that, spending time with my loved ones is what I value most. Keeping these bonds between my family and close friends is what helps me manage my goals and stay on track in college. Without them, I’d be all over the place, with no sense of direction on where to go. They are the reason I am in college pursuing veterinary medicine; they’re the reason I want to advocate for community health with veterinary involvement! I want a place in ensuring my family and community is safe by embracing One Health, which is a multidisciplinary approach to public health involving doctors, veterinarians, and scientists. My grandfather's passing due to other people's disregard has made my goal even more urgent. His death and people's reactions to this pandemic show how crucial education on health and vaccines is. We need more diverse voices, and more people willing to talk to those in their community about their health. Healthcare and education is a right, not a privilege and helping educate people in my community could save a life. I could save someone else from losing their grandfather like I did.

I wanted my dorm and my closet to be a mixture of everything I loved most: comfy clothing, Twilight, and a relaxing atmosphere! Although not low-rise Y2K jeans, my overalls provide a vintage feel while giving me the epitome of a relaxed, yet stylish look. With 9 A.M. classes everyday, I'm inspired to look my best while not having to put in more time than I have. Simple pieces like this allow me to get to class on time while feeling bold and confident. With twinkling fairy lights and flowers under my desk, I always feel like I'm studying in my own personal oasis, basked in the pink and blue lights. It makes studying less of a chore and my personal space doesn't feel bland. Having a desk I love makes school work manageable, so I can tackle the school year head on! Lastly, I adore the Twilight sign on my door, which is the best film to come from the Y2K era. Twilight is my 'comfort movie' I watch whenever I become overwhelmed with my STEM courses and this sign on my door lets everyone know what my interests are, allowing me to meet new friends on my floor!

It's Saturday in Athens and you better be ready for game day! The energy on campus is electric and everyone is decked out in red and black, ready to cheer on our dawgs. As a current sophomore, my freshman year was limited due to COVID-19, so this year was my first ever UGA home game. On the left, wearing my UGA shirt, I'm ready to cheer on my team for the first time. After COVID-19, it's important that our school stays united and proud; this first game proved that UGA's students could bounce back and fight with our team.

"You are enough. You are so enough, it is unbelievable how enough you are." - Sierra Boggess At twelve, discovering Sierra Boggess for the first time, I was introduced to the beautifully tragic story, “The Phantom of the Opera.” I was enraptured with Sierra Boggess’ performance as Christine Daae and came to love her as a person who embodied self love and acceptance. She fought for women and LGBTQ+ rights on Broadway and I admired that immensely. Sierra showed little girls like me that they were enough, for Broadway, or for anything else they wanted to conquer. My love of this quote is rooted in lessons I learned in my childhood. “Never let someone else tell you what you're worth” My mom would tell me, fire in her eyes. “Never let someone tell you you’re not enough”. My mom is why I’m the strong woman I am today. She’s also the reason I fell in love with "Phantom of the Opera" and discovered Sierra Boggess. My mother and I have spent countless hours together harmonizing with the Phantom, or trying to reach Christine’s high note. Through our shared love of "Phantom of the Opera", we’ve bonded and become inseparable. Whenever I watch "Phantom of the Opera", I’m reminded of my favorite quote by Sierra Boggess, and the hundreds of lessons my mom has given me over the years. This quote embodies what my mom has always wanted me to think about myself and it reminds me of how much I am loved. Sierra's words are so important to me because of how they represent the bond and guidance my mom has given me throughout my life. As a queer woman in STEM, the imposter syndrome is something I will continually face; I'm terrified that I won't be able to make it as a queer veterinarian in the South. I have these fears, but this mantra helps me through these doubts and shows me that I will never be alone with my mom by my side. I am enough, no matter what my identity or gender is. I am enough as a strong, queer woman and nothing should make me ashamed of who I am or what I've done. I am enough. I am so enough, it is unbelievable how enough I am.

Before I even knew the word veterinarian, I went around calling myself a "pet doctor" as I prepped my favorite stuffed animal for "surgery", which consisted of a pink band-aid and a kiss on the forehead to feel better. My entire life, I've known that my calling on this planet is to help others and their pets live the best lives they possibly can. As a current student at UGA, I'm lucky to have so many amazing opportunities at my finger tips. My freshman year, I started researching in a meat sciences lab which opened my eyes to different opportunities in veterinary medicine I had never even considered before! Before college, I used to think I just wanted to take care of our common furry friends, cats and dogs. After being involved in research by calculating serial dilutions, creating gels that freeze the enzyme activity of meat, and so much more, I fell in love with research. I don't want to give up veterinary medicine entirely but now I want to narrow down my goal to conducting research in animal health; I want to make an impact through discovering solutions to animal health problems, therefore helping practicing veterinarians diagnose their patients more efficiently. As a queer woman in STEM pursuing veterinary medicine, I know there could be barriers against me on my way. In the veterinary clinic I work at, I've even faced discrimination that has caused me to stay in the closet, as I've heard my coworkers mocking LGBTQ people. I know I could also face these barriers at the predominantly white, southern college I go to, but I am not going to let ignorant people get in the way of what I want to achieve. I plan on continuing working as a student assistant in the meat sciences lab and I will continue to work at my veterinary clinic because I know I deserve a seat at the table to make veterinary medicine more diverse and accepting. By joining oSTEM, a club for LGBTQ+ students in STEM, I've started to address the lack of diversity in STEM fields. As the Secretary, I've helped find guest speakers that want LGBTQ+ students working in labs, or attending graduate school. I've been able to empower others and myself, and I know this passion will help me become an even more compassionate and driven veterinarian. In this world, I am most excited about what is going to come next for me. Before college, I wasn't publicly out. I hid in the shadows, always scared to scream who I was. Now, I yell it loudly, not caring who on campus hears me. This self acceptance and confidence was a huge step forward for me and I can't wait to see where it takes me as I continue to own my queerness and my skills in research and animal care. I want to continue to show others that being queer and working in veterinary medicine are not mutually exclusive, no matter what one ignorant person tells you. I am more than that one person and I have bigger plans they won't stop me from finishing. As a veterinarian, I plan on continuing my activism in LGBTQ rights and involvement in STEM. Even now at only 19, I've heard hurtful remarks that have made me question my right to take up space in STEM and in the veterinary field. I don't want any other young students to feel the same anguish I felt after experiencing those events. I want to implement a shadowing program either in my practice, or in my research lab as a vet to allow LGBTQ+ and other minority students the chance to experience STEM in a welcoming and encouraging environment. I've always known that my passion in life has been to help both animals and people but I never thought it would change into what I want to do now. Whether I'm in a lab researching the nutritional impacts of a new food in dogs, or helping an underprivileged student experience veterinary medicine for the first time, I know that I'm doing what I was put on this Earth to do, even if it a little bit different than what I imagined at fives years old, putting a bandaid on a stuffed dog.

Having a phone is like yielding a double edged sword. One side of my phone has given me ways to connect to people across the world I never would meet otherwise, and has allowed me to access any information I need at the drop of a hat. The other side of my phone represents my time lost. My time stuck, scrolling through TikTok or Instagram endlessly. Like with anything, there are pros and cons. Being able to manage your screen time, and having good self control are ways to make sure your phone doesn't become your own master, or your demise. Having a phone is great, because it lets me have any information I need in a moment's notice. My phone has been a valuable resource in school. From playing Kahoot review games in class, to researching about The Stonewall Riots for a paper, my phone has helped me prepare for my classes to earn the best grades possible. Though there are these benefits to my phone, there is no denying how it can become an outlet for me to be distracted. I could be googling something important, but getting a notification from Tiktok or Instagram could easily derail my concentration and determination. I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes checking social media for a quick five minute break has turned into a two hour long spiral of me being glued to my phone. A phone can be a distraction, and this is extremely important to consider when driving, especially when utilizing a phone. Like a lot of people, I use my phone for directions and to play music while driving. Phones help me get to my destination and stay entertained on my ride; this can be a slippery slope. While learning to drive, my parents drilled into my head how important it was to never look at my phone while behind the wheel. My father is an attorney, and he's seen too many instances of lives being ruined because of distracted driving. Looking down to read a text, could be the reason I accidentally miss a stop light, slamming into a family of four across the street. I don't want to end my life or anyone else's because of my phone. Because of this, I have my phone set on do not disturb while driving. I do this to make sure nothing tempts me while on the road. If I do have music on, I keep it on a level that isn't alarmingly loud, so I can hear for sirens and other cars around me. I aim to drive smart, not distracted. My phone can be a great resource while driving, if I use it responsibly. While I have not yet used my phone irresponsibly behind the wheel, which is enforced by my state's "Hand's Free" law, I know there is a possibility I could slip up. To keep this from happening, I remind myself of how much I want to achieve in my life. I remind myself of how much I value the lives of those around me. Is sacrificing my life or the lives of those around me worth it, just so I can watch a Tiktok behind the wheel? To me, it's not. This is a rule of mine I will never break, because though my phone is a tool and a source of entertainment, being responsible is the key to managing my phone use, and keeping myself and others safe.

2020 was a year full of loss and new beginnings. It was a mixture of happiness and sorrow, and light and darkness which became hard for me to cope with. In 2020, I lost my grandfather to COVID-19. I graduated high school and started my first semester of college but I also had my senior year cut short, and started college with no friends. It was a rough year, and I am still recovering from everything that's been thrown at me. If anything, the last year has shown me that I'm stronger than I thought I was. 2020 threw curveball after curveball and I didn't hit all of them. I definitely had more than three strikes, but I didn't let those losses keep me down forever. 2020 showed me that it's okay to fall, and that the merit in life lies in how I pick myself back up again. Having my senior year of high school cut short left me with no sense of closure and I felt like I was being thrown into the deep end when I started my first semester of college. College life became increasingly hard for me. Because of the pandemic, I had no classes in person so I struggled to make friends. My life became a cycle of classes online, going to the dining hall, and then cocooning under a blanket to cue up Netflix. The only person I talked to everyday was my roommate, who happened to be my best friend from high school. Plagued by my worsening depression, I threw myself into my school work, but became a shell of who I was as a person. I became hyper-focused on my school work and my dream of becoming a veterinarian while letting my mental health and social life slip through the cracks until my roommate intervened. I can still remember her sitting across from me, her eyes shining in concern and love. She told me that all I could do during the pandemic was my best and that was enough. "I'm proud of you regardless," she told me. Her unmoving support no matter what I was going through meant the world, and helped push me into motion to start caring about my self-care and mental health. Around the same time, I lost my grandfather due to COVID-19. When he died, it was like I was spiraling back down into the depression I felt during my first semester of college. I was devastated and I was angry. I was angry that so many Americans decided to not wear masks, making it impossible to say goodbye to my Grandpa at his hospital in Nashville. With COVID-19 cases soaring, the hospital was taking no outside visitors and we had to say goodbye over facetime. I expected school to be virtual during the pandemic, but I never expected that I would have to say goodbye to a family member virtually as well. A couple months later, and we still haven't had a funeral or memorial for him, as we wait for other members of our family to get vaccinated. It was hard for me to look at the positive side when the pandemic brought me so much suffering and loss. How could I move forward? How could I ever be whole again? My best friend helped me realize that all I could do was my very best to be enough. I was enough, and I could be proud of how I had gotten through one of the hardest times of my life and still be excited for everything I wanted to achieve in the future. Now, as my first year of college comes to an end, I’m vaccinated and finally full of blossoming hope. My hope and readiness for the future doesn't replace the scars I've earned from 2020, but that's okay. 2020 was a hard year for me, but it helped show me how strong and dedicated I am to my future. I've learned that loss and depression are normal human experiences and that bouncing back from them makes you who you are. COVID-19 has shown me how unpredictable life is, and that's spurred me on, making me even more dedicated to becoming a veterinarian. With my time on Earth, I know my calling is to help animals and I'm not going to let anything get in the way of that. This summer, I'm working as a kennel technician at a local veterinary hospital and with everything I've gone through, I've just come out even more motivated and excited to reach the next stages of my life. I won't forget everything I went through in 2020, but I can carry what I experienced with me to become a more motivated and caring person, by making the most of my life while I still can.

Everyone is excited for their first semester of college, right? College represents freedom and new beginnings. College during a pandemic though, is completely different. I started my first semester of college during the COVID-19 pandemic and I felt isolated and depressed. I came in with no friends, and no solid direction. I'd go to class, to the dining hall, and then hole myself in my room, cocooned under a blanket. I was drowning and I didn't know how to get out of the hole I had dug myself. At the end of my first semester, I started to watch Criminal Minds, encouraged by my friends back home to start the show. I had been told repeatedly that I'd fall in love with the character Reid and they were right! Starting Criminal Minds gave me something to look forward to everyday and became one part of my life that wasn't clouded by my depression. Kennedy, one of my friends that pushed me to watch Criminal Minds, showed me how the smallest acts can make the biggest difference in someone's life. Every time I watched a Criminal Minds episode, I would text or facetime Kennedy, excited to talk about what I just watched. A lot of what we said aligned with: "Oh my god, Reid looked SO good in this episode" or "wow, I can't believe that happened!" But it didn't matter how repetitive our statements were, or what we said, Criminal Minds was our way to connect and it gave me a way to handle living through a pandemic. I noticed that even though Kennedy had seen all of Criminal Minds months ago, she always knew exactly what happened in each episode I texted her about. Did she have some perfect memory I didn't know about? One day on a call, I decided to ask her how she knew what episode I was on, and what happened in each one. Kennedy had just shrugged. "Oh, I just watch the first and last minute of every episode you finish so I can talk to you about it!" It took everything in me not to cry when I heard that. To her, it wasn't a big deal and it was only two minutes of her time, but to me it meant everything. Just to be able to have conversations with me about the show, she'd go out of her way to rewatch parts of it just so she knew what was going on. I choked up as I told her "this is the nicest thing someone has done for me in a while." And it's true. My first year of college was tough. I tried to manage a pandemic, my classes, and my depression and it was a battle everyday. But by finding Criminal Minds and talking to Kennedy every single day, I was able to find a ray of happiness to keep me moving forward. Her act of kindness kept me from falling deeper into my depression, and all it took was her watching the first and last minute of an episode to do so. Even though this is such a small act, it helped me get through my first semester of college. Being able to bond over Criminal Minds with one of my best friends from home helped me get through one of the hardest moments of my life. Even if they're small acts of kindness, they can still create deafening waves of change and impact on someone's life. Those extra two minutes of Kennedy's day changed the course of my semester and helped me out of my depression.

The day I was born, my mom almost gave up her life so my brother and I could live. The doctor in the emergency room accidentally nicked one of her major arteries and she would have bled to death if there weren't two doctors in the room that day to finish the delivery, while one stopped the bleeding. From the day I was born, my mom has been the most selfless person I know and without her, I wouldn't be half the woman I am today. From a young age, my mom taught me to be an independent woman and showed me my true potential. From as far back as I can remember, she gave me the tools to be a strong feminist and I admire her for instilling those beliefs in me. At age five when I still wanted to be a Princess, she smiled and told me I could be anything I put my mind to. "Remember" she'd say, "Princesses are fierce, not damsels in distress," and that stuck with me. She showed me that femininity and being a woman did not make me weak, it only made me a stronger and more determined person. A year later, at only six years old when I decided I wanted to be a 'pet doctor', she didn't roll her eyes and patronize me. My mother never told me that my dreams were outlandish, and she never once let me belittle my own goals. My mom is selfless. As a stay at home mother, she was there for every milestone I had, every doubt, and every dream I told her I wanted to follow. Though she's told me time and time again that I can achieve all of my goals and dreams, my mom gave up her own dream of becoming a pharmacist so she could raise me at home. I don't take that sacrifice lightly. My mom sacrificing her career makes her words of advice even more important and weighted with truth. My mom has always told me that I can achieve anything I put my mind to, and I know she says these things in part so that I never have to give up my dreams like she did. I know how hard it was for my mom to give up her career, but her being a stay at home mother does not make her any less of an independent, strong woman. She's still one of the most strong-willed and determined people I know and she helped me internalize those same values. My mom's sacrifice has impacted me more than anything else ever could. She loved me so much that she put her entire life on hold just so I could have the opportunity to achieve great things. Her sacrifice is the reason I am attending the University of Georgia on the pre-veterinary medicine track. As I go forward into my academic and professional career, I carry her words of independence and will, and her sacrifices with me. I carry my mom with me, sharing all my successes and all my failures with her, because without her empowerment and trust in me that I would move mountains, I wouldn't be here. As a woman going into STEM, the imposter syndrome, or feeling like I am not good enough as a woman, is something I will face in science. I will see someone doing better in Organic Chemistry than me, or a man dominating my space and I could crumble. I could throw in the towel, and forget everything my mom has told me, but I refuse to let that happen. My mom has shown me the value and strength I have as a young woman. She's shown me how important is it to chase after what I want and how I should never give up my dreams for anyone. As I go forward into veterinary medicine, I want to help other women and queer students see that they too can achieve their dreams, no matter what circumstances they are under. As a veterinarian, I want to implement a shadowing program to show other students that STEM and veterinary medicine is a field that's accessible and ready for them. I don't want any other young woman to give up their dreams because they're scared or feel like they aren't ready. By helping to make STEM accessible to all women and underrepresented groups, I can help instill confidence in other women just like my mom did in me.

Looking in the mirror, I used to absolutely loathe myself. All throughout middle school and high school, I struggled with how to manage my mental health and balance it with my everyday life. I'm the type of person who throws all their energy into something, while neglecting another, and that's exactly what I did in school. I threw all my energy into my AP Classes, my research, or any other school activity, while I let my mental health flounder helplessly. Because of this, my self confidence and self-value were at an all time low, leading to me struggling with depression and an eating disorder. I wish I could paint you a rosy picture, saying all is well and that I am fully recovered, but mental health and recovery don't work like that, and I am not looking through rose-tinted glasses. Though I am still actively working on myself, I'm proud to say that now as a freshman in college, I've learned how to use healthy coping mechanisms to deal with depressive episodes and the fall-out of my disordered eating. Though it is not always easy and it's taken years of learning, I now have the relationships and tools, like journaling and meditation, to make sure I don't fall back into those negative patterns. Attending college during a pandemic has continuously tested my strength, though. I came into my first semester with no friends, and no direction, and I left feeling just as lost. I started to fall back into those same, dark patterns. I threw myself into my school work and into pursuing my dream career, while letting my mental health fall through the cracks. With laser focus, I joined the pre-veterinary medicine club, found a veterinary mentor, and started researching in a meat sciences lab, all while taking on my heavy STEM course load. I made sure that I was so academically busy, building my way towards the veterinary field, that I put my mental health on the back burner. It came to a point where the only person I talked to everyday last semester was my roommate, who's also my best friend. Talking to her everyday is how I got myself out of these harmful, depressive episodes. Through her, I realized that during the pandemic, I was doing the best I could for myself, and that was enough. I learned that I didn't have to throw myself into my school work to feel valid, and that it was okay to deviate time between school, friends, and myself. I still focused on my STEM classes, always dedicated to my dream of becoming a veterinarian, but I also allowed time for me to go to the dining hall with my friend, and get involved on campus. This semester, I became the Secretary of oSTEM, a club dedicated to LGBTQ students in STEM. Not only did I meet an amazing new friend, but I also met so many other queer students who were struggling the same way I was. I felt seen, and proud that I had made a change on my campus for queer students in STEM, who felt the same disconnections as me. Throughout my academic and veterinary career, I hope to continue to foster this sense of belonging for queer students in STEM, to make sure they always have a space to feel welcome and safe. Going into the future, I plan on practicing veterinary medicine, a field which has one of the highest suicide rates of any professional field. With my mental health issues, this is something I am increasingly aware of. This doesn’t scare me, though. Even though some days are still battles, they are individual battles that I win. And in the future, that will be no different. As a vet, I want to continue my advocacy for queer youth, who disproportionately face higher rates of mental health issues. I hope to start a shadowing program to allow underrepresented students to see the everyday life of a veterinarian. And as a future veterinarian who’s struggled with mental health, I plan to be an advocate, colleague, and friend for others in the veterinary field struggling with their mental health, sharing my mental health experiences with them.

When people go to college, there is a lot of faux-philanthropy that goes on. In my college town, there are numerous organizations that thrive on the involvement of young college students. The issue is, as soon as school is out for summer, their source of donations, labor, and support dries up immediately. The community outreach in college towns becomes almost obsolete when its students leave the campus for summer. Or, some students participate in "Day of Service" events without ever taking a step back and thinking about the implications of their one day of community advocacy. I was worried that by coming into a new community, I would feed into this system that helps but doesn't make a lasting difference. And as a freshman during a pandemic, I definitely contributed to that until I found ways to make lasting changes in the community organizations I am passionate about. Community service is important to me because as a white, queer woman, it allows me to use my privilege and understanding of injustices I face as queer to help others around me. I believe that true community service is using your privilege or abilities that others don't have to make a difference in the lives or situations of others around you. Community service on the local level is especially important, because work done in the community affects everyone who resides in it. In high school, I volunteered at a local animal shelter for three years. I helped dogs from abusive houses, hoarding cases, and neglectful homes and it was my role to make sure they were taken care of in this next stage of their life. I loved working at Mostly Mutts because I helped change the lives of over 500 animals a year. And, with it being my hometown’s largest and most well known shelter, I helped hundreds of pet parents find their fur-ever friend. I was hesitant to leave Mostly Mutts when I went to college, but I had no other choice than to learn more about the Athens, Georgia community. It was hard to get involved during a pandemic. A lot of local organizations stopped using volunteers and with Athens having a local population with a high risk of contracting COVID-19, many were hesitant to open their doors. One way I got involved on campus was through joining the Pre-Veterinary Medicine club. Every month, they volunteer at Sweet Olive Farm, a local rescue organization that takes care of farm animals like pigs, horses, and goats. I wanted to avoid having a “one time impact” on the community. Meaning, working for an organization only once, without considering the long term implications of that service. When starting any service, I try to ask myself how I am trying to make a long lasting change. By volunteering regularly, the pre-veterinary medicine club ensures that there is always someone there to help care for the animals, rather than only showing up once and never again, making the organization vulnerable. Working at Sweet Olive on Sundays has been amazing. I’ve gotten more experience with animals like pigs and goats, and I’ve been able to help with all tasks from everyday farm maintenance to feeding the animals. Another way I’ve gotten involved is through women and queer advocacy. By joining the PERIOD Project Club at UGA, I’ve been able to pursue sustainable changes in my college community. Every month, we make menstrual kits with sanitary pads, and other healthcare products women in local shelters need. And over the summer, we make kits to help as well, making sure no woman is forgotten. By aiding in workshops about a cup and cloth, new innovate menstrual products, we’ve been able to educate other women on our campus, creating a long lasting impact on women’s health in the community. Along with this, I’ve become the secretary of the inaugural oSTEM, a club dedicated to LGBTQ+ representation in STEM fields. I am extremely passionate about the rights of women and queer individuals and going to college has given me opportunities to finally start getting involved. As a queer women getting an agricultural degree in science, I’ve felt the imposter syndrome in a degree filled with a lot of cis-gendered, white males. Getting involved in oSTEM has allowed me and others on campus to have an accepting space that focuses on empowerment and professional building. As the first club of its kind on campus, we are starting to implement representation for queer students in STEM on campus, something that had never been considered before. In the future, I want to attend veterinary school, where I hope to mold together my passions of animal welfare and health, women's rights, and LGBTQ+ advocacy. I’ve wanted to be a veterinarian since I was three years old and as I’ve gained more experience, my goals have become more focused. After attending veterinary school, I plan on opening a small animal and exotics practice in my community where I will treat animals and ensure that they are living the most fulfilling lives they can. And in my practice, I want to implement a shadowing program for underprivileged students, especially queer students interested in STEM and veterinary medicine. Gaining veterinary hours is crucial for a strong veterinary school application and those with less support and resources might find this even harder to do than their peers. By using my experiences as a queer STEM student and as a future veterinarian, I hope to show underrepresented students in my community that STEM and veterinary medicine are fields that are accessible and ready for them. In the future, I don’t want to make tiny ripples; I want to make waves so big that they boom as they crash into the shore. In my community, I want to change the lives of the animals I treat, and the lives of the people who step into my clinic, whether they be a nervous client with their pet, or a wide-eyed student like me, excited to pursue their dreams.

Just hear me out for a second: David Bowie in leather clothing, appearing in a cloud of glitter. That’s it. That’s all I need to say to convince someone to watch my all time favorite movie, Labyrinth. At age eleven, I stumbled upon Labyrinth while scrolling through Netflix. “David Bowie,” I thought. Isn’t that some singer my mom likes? I shrugged and hit play, enraptured by the movie’s promise of magic, goblins, and fae. Eleven year old me didn’t know what she was getting herself into. I fell in love with Labyrinth and its outlandish characters like Hoggle, a goblin who helps the main heroine, Sarah, save her brother from the Goblin King’s wrath. Most importantly though, I fell in love with the Goblin King, David Bowie, who molded my love for music and made Labyrinth my favorite comfort movie. Labyrinth brings me so much joy because as a niche cult classic, its fanbase is small, but passionate. When meeting someone who loves Labyrinth, it’s like rediscovering the magic the film showed me at eleven all over again. The elaborate puppets imagined by Jim Henson and the beautiful costumes made this movie different from anything I had ever seen before and rewatching it reminds me of what I love about life and myself. When the Goblin King sings “Magic Dance”, I remember the countless hours my brother and I sang in unison with Bowie, with even my mom joining in. Seeing Sarah’s stubbornness to save her brother reminds me of how I vowed to never give up like her, and to be as strong-willed as she was. Watching Labyrinth is like receiving a warm hug and no matter how old I get, I’ll always believe in the magic this film holds, and the power of David Bowie in leather pants.

I'm proud to be a part of the LGBTQIA+ community because identifying as queer has given me a sense of belonging and self acceptance I didn't always have from my family, or myself. By embracing my identity, it gave me confidence I knew I would rely on as a queer woman in STEM. The community allowed me to uplift myself and now I'm proud to uplift other LGBTQIA+ students pursing STEM careers like me! @maddiee.sullivann

Starting college during a pandemic was suffocating at first. I couldn't breathe when I thought about everything that was going on: I was away from family during a pandemic, and I was away from my best friends at home, my pets. My four cats Graycie, Harriet, Perry, and Hamilton—all rescues I couldn't stop myself from falling in love with—and my dog Wendy have been instrumental in my mental health. I miss them while at school, but these photos remind me that the next time I go home, I know they'll be there for endless kisses, snuggles, and love.

When I close my eyes, I can see myself in a white coat and a stethoscope in hand, taking care of my furry patient in front of me: your dog! I can see this dream in my head, and I can open my eyes and see the jumps I’ve made to get where I am today, and how much closer it's gotten me to becoming a veterinarian. As a freshman in college, everything I’ve ever wanted now feels like it's within my grasp. That’s both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. To me, a degree in biological science, with a minor in animal science, represents a chance for me to make a difference in animal health and in queer representation by becoming an inclusive veterinarian. As a queer woman in STEM, my degree holds a double meaning; it gives me a chance to overcome barriers like the glass ceiling, as well as achieve my goal of practicing veterinary medicine. Biological science is in my school’s College of Agriculture and Environmental Sciences (CAES), meaning there is emphasis on courses encompassing animal sciences and animal health. Though I love the opportunity to take classes like Avian Surgical Techniques, where I learn basic surgery on chickens, there is no denying that the makeup of CAES is predominantly males, who are cis-gendered and heterosexual. Though they all live and breathe agricultural sciences like I do, I have always felt a disconnect with my fellow students. This feeling will unfortunately continue into veterinary school as well, where LGBTQIA+ students are extremely underrepresented, and feel safer hiding their identity rather than being out in veterinary school. To combat these feelings and trends, I’ve become the Secretary of oSTEM, a club dedicated to LGBTQIA+ representation in STEM. I am proud that I’ve gotten over five pre-vet students and numerous plant science students to join the club. With many of these majors overlapping into CAES, I’ve successfully started to give these queer students a platform and safe space to be who they are. While earning my degree, I’ve been able to make a change for LGBTQIA+ in STEM on my campus and I hope to be able to continue this mission throughout my academic and veterinary career. From all the experience I will gain from my degree, I know I will be prepared to enter veterinary school. So far, it’s allowed me to have a solid background in undergraduate research, which I now know is something I want to pursue as a veterinarian. By working in a meat sciences lab this semester, I’ve grown my knowledge on lab procedures and molecular processes of different meats like beef and pork. I’ve loved it so much that I know I want to include research in my future profession. I love animals and have a passion for science. I’m so thankful that my degree has allowed me to explore these passions through my animal based classes like Poultry Science, and my classes in broader fields like lab research. Taking my new interests in research and non-companion animals like chickens, I want to become a small animal veterinarian for companion animals and exotics, before one day returning back to academia to conduct research. By working in a clinic and in research, I will be able to spread my advocacy for queer youth in STEM. oSTEM has shown me how crucial representation, especially in agricultural degrees, is. As a veterinarian in a small animal practice, I plan to start an initiative for underrepresented youth to shadow me in my everyday routine. Gaining veterinary hours is crucial for a strong veterinary school application and those with less support and resources might find this even harder to do than their peers. By using my experiences as a queer STEM student and as a future veterinarian, I hope to show underrepresented students that STEM and veterinary medicine are fields that are accessible and ready for them. As a researcher, I can show other queer scientists that there is a place for them in what was once considered a “man’s field”. It’s time for research to welcome diverse groups of people and as a queer woman with a future background in veterinary medicine, I hope I can make my stance clear. In the future, I don’t want to make tiny ripples; I want to make a wave so big that it booms as it crashes into the shore. I know my dreams are methodical and specific, but that doesn’t deter me; it just makes me more excited and determined to finish earning my degree, so I can make an impact in my community, veterinary medicine, and queer alike.

In my life, education has been a gateway to everything I have ever wanted to achieve. This is not to say that it’s been a clear cut path every time; sometimes it feels like the doors my education opens expose new paths I would never consider, or paths that look frightening. What I’ve learned throughout my academic career thus far, is that even if the path beyond is daunting, with twists and turns and scraggly branches about, that doesn’t mean I should turn away. Everything I’ve learned until the moment I cross through that new door has prepared me for the challenges ahead of me. So, I pull up my boot straps and start my next journey. I’ve tried to keep this mindset when encountering new opportunities. My entire academic life, I’ve had the dream of becoming a veterinarian, and that’s the path I’ve decided to pursue. In high school, I took AP Research and I had never felt more intimidated than I had in that class. I had never conducted research before (besides small science fair projects) and I had no idea what I wanted to do! This was one of those paths my education and love of science had opened for me that looked daunting. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to traverse down that road, but I took a deep breath and started the class tentatively. I ended up researching shared bacteria between human owners and their dogs, and it opened up a whole new world. It opened up a part of STEM I never would have even considered if I hadn't taken that leap of faith. Now, I know that I have a deep passion for research, and that I want to conduct research in college and possibly become a veterinarian in academia. Following my first ever semester of college, I am happy to say that next semester I will be researching for class credit in a meat sciences laboratory! If I hadn’t taken that risk my junior year by spending hours coming up with a project and time working at Emory University, I never would have found my love for research and my determination to include it in my future career. Education has always provided a gateway down a new path for me to conquer and I’m thankful that it’s allowed me to have the confidence to take on these new experiences as they appear. With these new paths my education has opened up to me, I know there are ten more waiting for me down the road as I continue to push myself. From researching in high school, to researching in college and beyond, my education is the reason I am now dancing through these new gateways—even if they’re terrifying—so I can become the best veterinarian I can possibly be.

Walking into the research lab for the first time, all I felt were a million butterflies pounding against my chest. “What if I’m not good enough? I’m only a Freshman” I thought. I was terrified that my lack of experience would make the graduate students turn me away. I took a deep breath and crossed the barrier into the lab, ready to learn anything and everything about their research in muscle biology. A month later, and I’ve and gained confidence as a woman in STEM I’ve never held before, just by being bold and taking that first step into research.

Supporting small businesses or ethical companies is important to me, and I keep this in mind when shopping online. Sure, Amazon is a great place to buy millions of items for cheap, but ask yourself, is the way they treat their customers okay? Because of employee treatment and issues of fast fashion—clothes made unethically and unsustainably—I try not to support brands like Amazon or Shien. One online brand I love is Etsy! I often want to find hand-made, unique gifts and Etsy has just that. From earrings to posters, I can find anything I want and support small business owners while I’m at it, instead of faceless companies. The second place I love to shop online at is Target. Though this is a big company, they have morals I support. Target pushes diverse commercials, supports LGBTQIA+ patrons, and has inclusivity missions. In fact, over the next three years, Target plans to increase its amount of POC inclusion by 20%. The last place I love to shop online is my local grocery store. During the pandemic, I can get groceries safely without exposure to myself or others. And, I can still buy organic or locally grown produce when I can!

Puppy dog eyes and puppy dog love are what comes to mind when I look at these four pictures. Wendy, my short lil' rescue, and Rosie my grandma's Bernese mountain dog are best friends. Not only do they both give the best puppy dog eyes you will ever see (ugh, give them a treat already!), they also love laying—or rolling—on the couch together. If they're not showing off their eyes, snuggling with me, or laying on the couch, they can often be found wrapped up like pigs in a blanket, being absolutely spoiled rotten. @maddiee.sullivann

When I think of small businesses, hardships come to mind. I immediately picture the Great Recession of 2007-2009. I think about how that even though I was only 7 then, I can still distinctly remember my parents murmuring in the kitchen—other times yelling—about what we were going to do. How we were going to survive. Nine was too young to see the risks involved with small businesses, yet I understood them at that age all too well. My dad is a lawyer who owns his own individual law firm. Though we are not in the same financial place we were during the Great Recession, the COVID-19 pandemic has caused a lot of small business owners and families like mine to start worrying again. Not as many people are calling, traversing to the family-owned store down the road, or going out. Due to these effects of COVID-19, 60% of small businesses closing because of the pandemic are closing permanently. Even though I am aware of the lows in owning your own business, I also see the high points, which is why I want to own my own small veterinary practice one day. When picturing a small business, most people think about the quaint bakery around the corner, always smelling of fresh-baked bread. Though these are small businesses, and definitely always have the best-baked goods, professional careers like attorneys and veterinarians can have small businesses as well. In fact, most veterinary clinics are small and locally owned! I want to own my own clinic because it’s important to me to have a personal relationship with the community. Larger owned clinics have less say over payment options, treatment options, and programs for clients. By owning my own clinic, I will be able to work with every client individually and make sure they receive care for their pet tailored to their current situation. In addition to this, one of my goals is to start a program where I provide care to shelter animals for little or no cost. If I worked at a larger clinic like Banfield, there would be corporate restrictions on who I could help in a more personable manner. I want a small business full of control, creativity, and compassion. I want to open my doors to students interested in veterinary medicine, and I want the power to help my community as a whole. I know from seeing the struggles of my father that owning a small business isn’t easy. Though I’m not a business major, I will take any advice my dad can offer me as an owner of a small business for over 25 years. I’ll also listen to other veterinarians who’ve come before me, and take classes pertaining to practice management. I have a long journey ahead of me before I can fulfill this dream, but thinking about all I will be able to achieve with my unique practice fuels my ambition.

In past years, I’ve been overwhelmed by a massive, nightmare induced, Christmas Tornado. I see a Target ad fly by, a Best Buy Commercial, and then a Sephora newsletter in my inbox! In today’s world, we’re oversaturated with options in the market, and this makes holiday shopping difficult. With so many options, I love using WikiBuy, a browser extension that checks competitor's prices. It’s so helpful that I’ve even found the same gift listed twice on Amazon for a cheaper price. I also love the Consumer’s Report Holiday Gift Guide. Not only is this a reputable source, but it also offers analysis on multiple different items and stores all in one place. From Walmart to more specific gifts like TVs, this resource has an article to help. Though I love technology for holiday shopping, never discredit good ol’ fashioned ads! As a child, I loved circling all the toys I wanted in a catalog, and I am still the same today. Now, I search ads for gifts for my family. Not only is it cathartic to circle with a pen on paper, but it also brings a little bit of that childhood joy back into Christmas shopping.