As I sit here writing this essay, with my four-month-old mixed puppies Rocky and Adrian sitting adjacent to my desk, I cannot help but get a bit misty-eyed thinking about the dog who sent them to me. I wonder If somehow, through divine circumstance that the dog who changed my life saw that they needed the love that he had shown me, or if he somehow sensed I had begun to lose my way. Perhaps it could be both or even neither of those things. Regardless, all three of us are here because of one dog whose love and compassion transcended his short life, and my life is forever changed because of Wyatt. The story that I share with Wyatt is not exceptional. Wyatt was not the first dog to teach a person how to love themselves and grow to overcome difficult circumstances. Many individuals share different stories with a variety of pets and service animals. Still, it is the story of personal growth, the journey, and the unconditional love that they shared with their companions that make their stories so unique. Though it may be indistinguishable on the surface, that time and love shared between a pet and their person transform individuals for a lifetime. I knew it was love at first sight when I met Wyatt, but little did I know it would be a period of closed doors and missed opportunities that I would struggle through in my life. Imagine my surprise opening the front door to my home when I was leaving to run errands, only to find a little wire-haired rat terrier perched on the patio table looking me straight in the eyes as if to say, “There you are! What took you so long?” I lived with my parents in a rural area, with no nearby neighbors in the middle of the woods and 2.5 miles away from the main highway. How had this dog gotten here, nonetheless, on top of the table? At first, I did not know what to make of this stray as I reached out to vet clinics and adoption agencies and plastered my social media to see if anyone was missing a little dog with cat-like tendencies and a Wyatt Earp-esque mustache. However, as the days passed on and I heard nothing from anyone, as I began to fall more in love with Wyatt, I knew it was meant to be. Having struggled with anxiety and depression for a lifetime, I often struggle with meeting the ever-changing and redefined social and cultural definitions of being “good enough.” As I mentioned earlier, Wyatt came through an open door in a period of my life when I was met with missed opportunities, rejection letters from graduate school fellowships, and interview after interview of being passed over for teacher candidates who had more degrees and experience than I had. Disheartened and depressed cannot even begin to describe my state as an ambitious person who had an unhealthy understanding of productivity and professional progress and decided my worth. Honestly, I do not know if I would even be here writing this essay if I did not have Wyatt during that period of my life. On the days when it felt like it was not worth getting out of bed, Wyatt would patiently hop on the pillow next to me and lick my face until I was ready to start our day. Wyatt would not eat unless I ate with him, so because of our shared meals, I was still taking time to take care of myself. On the days I was not working as a paraprofessional, he could sense my frustration or sadness when I would study for praxis exams or fill out applications, pawing at me to take a walk or take a break so I could clear my head. It felt like we did everything together. There were so many little things he did that I thought of as his quirks and were just so funny in his routines. Looking back, I realize it simply was not his routine or me going through the motions of caring for him: he was teaching me how to love and care for myself throughout the hard days when we could no longer do everything together. Wyatt and I only had three years together. He crossed the rainbow bridge on January 8th, 2019, and his loss gutted me. I felt so lost and numb without Wyatt, but I kept our routines because I knew that was what he would want me to do; he would like me to keep going even though he was gone. Doing anything else felt like I was disrespecting his memory and all the love he had given me. It would be in April that same year that a door would open, that I would be offered and hired into my first position as a teacher. I cried and held Wyatt’s little red collar after I was hired, and I would do the same after I submitted my resignation two years later after discovering the job was not the right for me. When I think of how his little paws left their prints on my heart and my life, I know Wyatt was here for a reason. Wyatt was persevering, patient, and loving from the first moment we met, and he taught me what it truly means to hold space within those values for yourself. I’m a much kinder, better person to myself and others in my life because of the time I shared with Wyatt; he changed how I value and understand myself in a world that can often devalue and dehumanize people. In many ways, despite my aspirations of being an educator, Wyatt was the best teacher I ever had because he taught me the skills I needed to keep going. After all, I know he believed in me and how I would teach the values and share the love he gave me to others throughout my life.

As I sit here writing this essay, with my four-month-old mixed puppies Rocky and Adrian sitting adjacent to my desk, I cannot help but get a bit misty-eyed thinking about the dog who sent them to me. I wonder If somehow, through divine circumstance that the dog who changed my life saw that they needed the love that he had shown me, or if he somehow sensed I had begun to lose my way. Perhaps it could be both or even neither of those things. Regardless, all three of us are here because of one dog whose love and compassion transcended his short life, and my life is forever changed because of Wyatt. The story that I share with Wyatt is not exceptional. Wyatt was not the first dog to teach a person how to love themselves and grow to overcome difficult circumstances. Many individuals share different stories with a variety of pets and service animals. Still, it is the story of personal growth, the journey, and the unconditional love that they shared with their companions that make their stories so unique. Though it may be indistinguishable on the surface, that time and love shared between a pet and their person transform individuals for a lifetime. I knew it was love at first sight when I met Wyatt, but little did I know it would be a period of closed doors and missed opportunities that I would struggle through in my life. Imagine my surprise opening the front door to my home when I was leaving to run errands, only to find a little wire-haired rat terrier perched on the patio table looking me straight in the eyes as if to say, “There you are! What took you so long?” I lived with my parents in a rural area, with no nearby neighbors in the middle of the woods and 2.5 miles away from the main highway. How had this dog gotten here, nonetheless, on top of the table? At first, I did not know what to make of this stray as I reached out to vet clinics and adoption agencies and plastered my social media to see if anyone was missing a little dog with cat-like tendencies and a Wyatt Earp-esque mustache. However, as the days passed on and I heard nothing from anyone, as I began to fall more in love with Wyatt, I knew it was meant to be. Having struggled with anxiety and depression for a lifetime, I often struggle with meeting the ever-changing and redefined social and cultural definitions of being “good enough.” As I mentioned earlier, Wyatt came through an open door in a period of my life when I was met with missed opportunities, rejection letters from graduate school fellowships, and interview after interview of being passed over for teacher candidates who had more degrees and experience than I had. Disheartened and depressed cannot even begin to describe my state as an ambitious person who had an unhealthy understanding of productivity and professional progress and decided my worth. Honestly, I do not know if I would even be here writing this essay if I did not have Wyatt during that period of my life. On the days when it felt like it was not worth getting out of bed, Wyatt would patiently hop on the pillow next to me and lick my face until I was ready to start our day. Wyatt would not eat unless I ate with him, so because of our shared meals, I was still taking time to take care of myself. On the days I was not working as a paraprofessional, he could sense my frustration or sadness when I would study for praxis exams or fill out applications, pawing at me to take a walk or take a break so I could clear my head. It felt like we did everything together. There were so many little things he did that I thought of as his quirks and were just so funny in his routines. Looking back, I realize it simply was not his routine or me going through the motions of caring for him: he was teaching me how to love and care for myself throughout the hard days when we could no longer do everything together. Wyatt and I only had three years together. He crossed the rainbow bridge on January 8th, 2019, and his loss gutted me. I felt so lost and numb without Wyatt, but I kept our routines because I knew that was what he would want me to do; he would like me to keep going even though he was gone. Doing anything else felt like I was disrespecting his memory and all the love he had given me. It would be in April that same year that a door would open, that I would be offered and hired into my first position as a teacher. I cried and held Wyatt’s little red collar after I was hired, and I would do the same after I submitted my resignation two years later after discovering the job was not the right for me. When I think of how his little paws left their prints on my heart and my life, I know Wyatt was here for a reason. Wyatt was persevering, patient, and loving from the first moment we met, and he taught me what it truly means to hold space within those values for yourself. I’m a much kinder, better person to myself and others in my life because of the time I shared with Wyatt; he changed how I value and understand myself in a world that can often devalue and dehumanize people. In many ways, despite my aspirations of being an educator, Wyatt was the best teacher I ever had because he taught me the skills I needed to keep going. After all, I know he believed in me and in how I would teach the values and share the love he gave me to others throughout my life.

In May, the end of my first year of graduate school, I let my secrets slip to a few faculty members in my department. Somehow, despite long nights and thousands of dollars spent in pet care, I had managed to maintain a 4.0 GPA while being the primary caretaker of two litters of neglected, abandoned puppies. They were in disbelief, wondering how I had managed to balance the stress from school and home. I’m still unsure about it myself. It was the right thing to do, even though it has placed me in a precarious situation of struggling to pay tuition for the subsequent year of graduate school. If I had $1000 right now, I would put it towards tuition expenses. Currently, with the two litters of puppies being nine and four months old, veterinary costs will soon decline. Despite working part-time, most of my earnings are going towards the care and support of the nine pups, and I have been unable to save for tuition as I initially planned. Being able to put some money towards tuition, or at least being able to buy used books for my seminar classes, would be an incredible blessing. If I had the option of doing things differently, I wouldn’t have changed my decisions. Our local shelters are full. Those pups were in need and would have potentially died due to widespread misunderstanding of pitbull behaviors. It has been difficult, but working towards giving these pups a better life makes it worth it.

In light of the COVID-19 pandemic, the rise of violence in schools, And the increasingly digital social sphere that students become exposed to in their lives necessitate changes in how schools must partner with parents and guardians to ensure student well-being. Though many strategies can be implemented to improve student mental health and well-being, the broad embrace of Social Emotional Learning engages students in discovering how to monitor and gauge their thoughts and feelings while providing strategies to maintain wellness or to seek out help is crucial for the future success of students in school. In the wake of school violence and the rise of student mental illness throughout the twenty-first century, many schools various activities and levels of the SEL curriculum to reach and support students who display signs of struggling with their mental health. As an educator, I firmly believe that early intervention in helping students identify their social and emotional tendencies will support the destigmatization of mental health for a generation of students who will revolutionize the mental health care system. Supporting SEL education nationwide in the United States would involve a broad restructuring of the American education system, emphasizing the importance of state testing with more focus on student success and well-being rather than the numbers game of state test scores. Furthermore, accessibility to free counseling and student support from elementary to high school campuses is essential in a student-centric approach to integrating SEL curriculums. These counselors and student support members, in addition to educating students about mental wellness, strategies to support their well-being physically and mentally, and structuring strategies for well-rounded success, should also reach out to parents to educate them and encourage the practice of these strategies as well. In supporting students' mental wellness beginning early in elementary school and later into high school, one can infer that schools would see a natural increase in student success, academic progress, and communal uplift by investing efforts in students rather than scores. Support for this, including a comprehensive evaluation of SEL curriculums, must be supported by public policy, families, and educational professionals if we are to break the stigma around mental illness.

When I entered my mentor's office in the first weeks of graduate school for one of those meetings that she lovingly referred to as a “heart to hearts,“ her response to my fear of being unable to complete the work correctly for graduate school was “If you don’t make mistakes, how can you expect to learn?“ On many levels, I knew this was true. As a teacher, I always tried to make my high school students feel supported and never judged if they answered a question incorrectly. However, as I soon realized, I had not given myself the same grace or framework that I had provided for my students. I held myself to unattainable standards, expecting myself to get A’s from the get-go on all of my papers and flow seamlessly into the study schedule of graduate school. Yet, that defeated the purpose of why I chose to return to graduate school - to learn and better myself through that education. Striving for that often unattainable goal or maintaining the imagery of the perfect, hard-working individual can deny us the opportunity to learn and grow through our mistakes. In work and academic cultures that expect us to perform at peak perfection all of the time, we often lose sight of the complexity of human nature. No one is perfect; working and learning are growth, and everyone has off days. Reframing your perceptions of success and extending yourself the same understanding and compassion offered to others in light of their mistakes cannot only help ensure growth. They can also elevate one’s sense of contentment and reduce feelings of anxiousness. So when you are putting yourself out there, remind yourself that it is okay if its not perfect. Its not the mistake that matters; its how you grow from it.

During the first month of graduate school, I was having anxiety attacks and losing sleep, trying to keep up with the amount of work expected of me. It was incredibly overwhelming, but with the support of faculty and my therapist, I developed study strategies that supported my academic success and ensured my health and well-being. The biggest challenge but most helpful strategy for studying is time management. I am ready to start studying at 8 o’clock every morning and ensure that I do not study past 10 p.m. Every hour and a half that I study, I take a 10 to 20-minute break to re-orient myself and prepare for the next study block. Sometimes I use these breaks to eat and spend time with my pups, meditate to clear my head if I feel overwhelmed during studying or jot down the most important ideas or information in a structured note-taking system that I learned. It took trial and error to figure out the timeframe that works best for me, but many students use this variation or a shorter length of time during their studies. Furthermore, sticky note and index cards are essential for my note-taking during reading and keeping up with deadlines. Color-coded sticky notes are placed in my books with the dates they must be read and have reviews written about them to help me keep track of pacing. Similar sticky notes are also kept on my desk and recorded in my written planner to help me pace and focus on my study sessions. Index cards are broken down into four to five sections To gauge and document the most crucial information from each chapter, which are placed within the book and can be consulted for class discussions and papers.

My voice uncontrollably shook as I came out as queer to my mom on September 27th, 2018. I was terrified. Despite every adverse scenario that my anxious brain could conjure up or the fear of rejection from the person I cared about most, I could no longer remain closeted and resigned myself to living life on the sidelines. I had to live my truth. It is unbelievably hard to speak your mind and stand up for what is right. It is easier to look the other way and ignore it or avoid the potential dangers of a situation. However, as illustrious Maggie Kuhn has advised, “speak the truth, even if your voice shakes,“ staying true to your core values and standing up for what you believe in or supporting others is the most courageous thing. In the cases of Black, indigenous people of color, religious minorities, LGBTQ+ folks, and other marginalized communities, they often do not have the option to turn the other way in the face of prejudice and discrimination; they have to encounter this daily. In staying true to themselves and their morals, many individuals of these communities mentioned above do incredible work to up cultures of discrimination and prejudice. As I have experienced discrimination in the workplace and public social spheres as a queer individual, I have not been able to avoid being able to speak my truth. In my heart, I know what is right, I know who I am, and I possess a solid moral compass, so knowing myself and staying true to who I am empower me to speak out for what is suitable for myself and on behalf of others. And though often my voice may shake, I will never cease to work towards a better future for all.

I have never been good about prioritizing my health or well-being, especially my mental health, ever in my life. I blame it on my Capricorn tendencies, but that explanation is inefficient. As much as I invested in the support and service of others, I would also struggle for periods to hold myself together. It was very late in life that this all culminated in a very negative situation at what I thought was my dream job, and I had to seek out therapy. Starting to see a therapist at twenty-seven years old has genuinely revolutionized and improved how I take care of myself. I recognize this may not be an accessible option for many people, but to have another person talk through and make recommendations on how we should make time for myself for “Personal maintenance“ has revolutionized how I assess the importance and value of self-care. From practices such as journaling to ten-minute meditations, including space and time in my busy schedule as a graduate student, I made thesis work, coursework, and my responsibilities as a graduate assistant help me not feel overwhelmed by the workload. Additionally, setting boundaries of work and times to take care of yourself is crucial in maintaining balance during hectic semesters. From the time I wake up at 7 AM to the time I stop working at 10 PM, I schedule my time to ensure I work a total of eight hours a day while taking time to ensure that I am rested, hydrated, fed, and engaged with friends, family, or my pets. It is a challenge, and some days are easier than others, but the most beautiful part of this opportunity is that, like personal growth, figuring out what is best for you and prioritizing your self-care is a work in progress.

Among my friends in my undergraduate years, there was an ongoing joke that I should have been a priest because I would sit in the library or outside on campus, and random students would just come up and start to talk with me about their issues or problems they were experiencing. At first, I was confused as to why this kept happening; nonetheless, how I should approach the situation. Still, in this case, I did my best to remain an empathetic supporter as many were looking for support, a hug, or advice through a trying time. One of my best qualities is my empathetic disposition, and I place this value at the forefront of all my interactions with people.The best way to practice and develop empathy is to listen to others. There are various ways that an individual can express their needs, and often they do not even need words to say this. There are times when it is easy, and the individual in need can verbally communicate their needs, but others require attention to behavior, body language, and tone. In the situation, it is not about you – it’s about being there to support the other person. Among friends or even strangers who need to get it off their chest, this methodology has improved my ability to practice empathy across a broad spectrum of needs. Just being there to listen, knowing that in most cases, it is a situation you cannot fix, giving affirming support, or validating their feelings about particular experiences helps people process their emotions. Even though you may not be able to improve the situation, you will be able to make at least that moment better for an individual, and if I can do that, then that is the most important thing to me.

I have never been one who is keen to rise early in the morning, but having four-legged alarm clocks certainly amends that process of starting my day. I get up with Rocky and Adrian, take them for their morning walk, feed and water them, do some training with them, and settle them down for a nap or playtime while getting myself together. This is a common theme throughout my life, as I have always put the needs of others as my primary concern, as I know that in my heart, I am here to help others. It is this service and support of those around me that fuels my ambition and drive to be the best person that I can be and to make the world a better place than it was when I came into it. I find joy in helping others, whether by aiding friends, family, and neighbors or taking more significant steps to engage in community uplift. I feel more of myself when I am supporting those around me and displaying my innate compassion and empathy for others. Thus, becoming an educator is a natural fit for the work and indulging my love of learning and history alongside it. I am in my lessons to support student wellness, teach diverse and inclusive histories, and help students seize opportunities to better themselves in the world around them by reflecting on what their passions and talents are and how they can contribute to the world. I find the joy in this path immeasurable, even on the hard days. However, the pride and happiness that springs from my heart whenever I can support students In pursuing their passion make it all worthwhile and fuels my ambitions to cultivate lifelong learning and diverse communities.

Looking back, I wonder if my depressive and anxious tendencies would have been noticed with the Social Emotional Learning (SEL) present in today’s schools. In the wake of school violence and the rise of student mental illness throughout the twenty-first century, many schools various activities and levels of the SEL curriculum to reach and support students who display signs of struggling with their mental health. As an educator, I firmly believe that early intervention in helping students identify their social and emotional tendencies will support the destigmatization of mental health and support a generation of students who will revolutionize the mental health care system. Supporting SEL education nationwide in the United States would involve a broad restructuring of the American education system, emphasizing the importance of state testing with more focus on student success and well-being rather than the numbers game of state test scores. Furthermore, accessibility to free counseling and student support from elementary to high school campuses is a must in a student-centric approach to integrating SEL curriculums. These counselors and student support members, in addition to educating students about mental wellness, strategies to support their well-being physically and mentally, and structuring strategies for well-rounded success, should also reach out to parents to educate them and encourage the practice of these strategies as well. In supporting students' mental wellness beginning early in elementary school and ranging later into their high school years, one can infer that schools would see a natural increase in student success, academic progress, and communal uplift by investing efforts in students rather than scores. Support for this, including a comprehensive evaluation of SEL curriculums, must be supported by public policy, families, and educational professionals if we are to break the stigma around mental illness.

I do not know why I still keep the suicide note I wrote when I was thirteen. It is tucked away in the back of my sock drawer, where only someone who is looking could find it. I wrote this note when I realized that my gender identity and sexual orientation did not match those of my peers, which also conflicted with the religious views of my parents at the time. I was relentlessly and homophobically bullied by my peers in middle school in the rural American South. The jagged little scrap of notebook paper was no more than two inches, torn from my middle school science notebook as I scrawled the message in frantic, messy handwriting. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I don’t deserve to live. Will, please don’t be like me. Please forgive me, mom and dad.” I shutter on the days I decide to retrieve it, thinking back on the closeted, anxious, and depressed child who struggled through some of the darkest days and was determined to keep it to themselves because they did not want to be a burden. It makes me think back to the person I was from middle school to my undergraduate years, the people pleaser with straight A’s who masked their suffering and struggles behind overwhelming academic success and a smile. I mourn their lost childhood. They spent so much time trying to be so perfect and acceptable to everyone that they lost themselves. The fewer people knew the real me, the better; the mask of the “ideal girl“ hid the truth, the person I thought of as a burden. I realize now just how much lost time I have experienced, just how many experiences of childhood and young adulthood this version of myself missed out on, and I have vowed never to lose so much time ever again. Thinking of these experiences compared to who I am today, I recognize the strength of the person I was that carried me to who I am today. It is such a complex notion to mourn yet value the struggle of my mental health in seeing how far I have come from who I was. I am working on being the person who I needed through those long nights where I was never sure I would see the sunrise or when I cried in the bathroom after having discovered my locker filled with post-it notes with homophobic slurs written across them. These experiences taught me the value of empathy and compassion, which are core to who I am. I am quick to always freely show my kindness to others to prevent anyone from feeling like I did in my youth, a lost, frightened person wearing the mask of the “perfect girl“ to avoid detection. Yet, though I am frequently kind and give my time, I am still slow to express vulnerability as I still struggle with the fear of rejection spurred by my anxiety and depression. It will take a lifetime to unpack and abandon my notions of perfection and normalcy, but it’s still something I strive to do every day to be my most authentic self and to encourage those around me to do the same. The most important realization I have discovered while becoming the person I needed most is that mental health does not immediately heal overnight, as it spans a lifetime of slow healing and growth. It is in this realization that I try to give myself the same patience and compassion that I show others. It has taken time and will still need time, but I believe the strongest are also the most vulnerable in sharing all aspects of themselves, so I do my best to keep my heart open. These experiences and core values fuel my desire to work with LGBTQ+ youth and communities as an educator and historian, striving to support those most vulnerable while developing a culture of understanding and acceptance in broader Social spectrums. A significant aspect, in my opinion, of why there are such homophobic, transphobic misunderstandings of the LGBTQ community in rural settings throughout Appalachia and the American South is that queer lives and individuals are often open secrets that are never acknowledged. Queer individuals are often labeled as being “that way“ or potentially to be “a little quare,” but in recognition of their gender identity or sexual orientation, there is often little acceptance or understanding of what that identity truly represents.. As a heavily closeted child who did not grasp what it meant to be queer or even have the vocabulary to describe me, I now recognize the power of being able to claim an identity or at least know about it. My work is historian to uncover ways in which queer individuals throughout the south have created community and lived their lives openly, in addition to creating educational spaces to discuss the vast spectrum of queer identity further to cultivate an understanding of diversity and inclusivity, remains at the heart of my work. There is power in the naming of things, but there is also power and how stories are told. Being able to uplift the narratives of queer individuals throughout Appalachia and the American South will help prevent situations for kids like me, where children feel so out of place and lost in the community they are in and do not honestly know how to identify. Many queer individuals, especially throughout Appalachia in the rural South, leave their home communities for urban spaces that they believe are more accepting. However, like many rural queers of my generation, I choose to stay . There is much work in these communities, creating resources for queer youth and uprooting negative imagery of queer individuals in rural communities. This work strengthens me, and perhaps why I still hold onto that first note that I wrote all those years ago. To remind me that change is possible, both for myself and the communities and people I care about.

Bayard Rustin was one of the greatest minds of the American Civil Rights Movement that many have never heard of. His role as an activist and organizer has been obscured from the historical narrative due to his identity as a Black gay man and having early affiliations with the Communist Party as a college student. Rustin is an incredibly admirable historical figure due to his perseverance of character when exposed to slander, in addition to his devotion to upend and dispel discrimination, prejudice, and racism among the broader American public. Rustin cut his teeth as an activist and organizer throughout the 1940s through His work and organizations such as the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) and the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). These experiences would influence his organizing of the civil rights movement as Rustin began to organize nonviolent demonstrations and educational workshops based on Gandhian passive resistance in these organizations. Rustin faced many consequences for his actions in these organizations, including chain gang labor and two years of imprisonment for pacifists protesting American involvement in World War II. It would also be during this time in 1953 that Rustin would be imprisoned in California with two other men on a “morals“ charge, which meant he was discovered “in the company“ of other men. It would be 1956, during the Montgomery Bus Boycotts, when Rustin would be introduced to Martin Luther King, Jr. and would begin to develop the nonviolent resistance that the Civil Rights Movement is known for. Rustin worked closely with King, even organizing the pivotal March on Washington. However, due to his gay identity, he was forced to be a background actor due to concerns of his sexuality jeopardizing the movement. However, Bayard Rustin was an instrumental individual who overcame governmental racial discrimination and should be rightfully recognized.

My best friend and I have plans to get matching tattoos based on a quote from Sarah J. Maas’s “Crescent City“ series, which reads, “through love, all is possible.“ I would be nowhere in life if I did not love or receive the love of others. In short, I think that is what people were put on earth to do; to grow in love, discern what love is, and discover how they can express it to their loved ones, community, and the world around them. Love manifests itself in different ways, Which makes the particular ways in which people display their love and thoughtfulness so incredible and genuinely improves the state of the world, whether it be for many people or just a single person. Looking at the world today, One can quickly identify where love is lacking, or love has been lost, as there are several areas of struggle, such as global violence and food scarcity. However, setting aside the differences of others that are often generated by violence and upending dichotomous binaries of “us versus them,” love can serve as the bridge that can bring a diverse population of people together. As the meaning of life is learning how to love, thus life creates the opportunity for ample growth and development of genuine affection towards oneself and others in life by allowing us time to learn how to love. To some people, love comes easy. To others, it is a practice that takes a lifetime to learn. However, no matter the time and distance it takes, It is up to us to figure out not just how to love within our personal lives but to create a community of love that extends beyond boundaries and perceived differences.

There is nothing better to me than the sounds of my game players rejoicing when they hit a natural 20, the happy yips of my puppies as they successfully respond to cues, or furiously scribbling in the book margins to take note of something that’s stuck out to me. I believe hobbies are crucial aspects of living, as it gives us an escape from the mundane and emphasizes the joy of living. It can be too easy to get bogged down in contemporary life exploits, whether it is completing errands or aiming for academic or professional success. Without hobbies, such as tabletop gaming, video games, music, dog training, or reading, in my case, we would not be able to appreciate minor nuances of happiness and joy in our life nor be renewed to tackle our work with creative ferocity and imaginative problem-solving. I believe in many ways, hobbies make us better people as it gives us outlets to explore and create our most authentic selves, Helping to create connection across time and space in addition to the support of the creation of identity. My hobbies are ways in which I can draw inspiration from others to fuel my creative ambitions, problem-solving, and explore who I want to be. Lyrics and prose can resonate deep within my soul and alter the inventive matter that sustains me, allowing me to transcend into understanding myself and the world around me. The stories and laughter shared between friends over a game develop positive, evocative memories that one remembers with joy or as a touchstone for problem-solving. It is those moments of connection that life is experienced at its most valuable state, which can be so precious and fleeting. Still, it catalyzes the creation of profoundly personal strength, inspiration, and ambition to keep going.

A year ago today, I resigned from what I thought was my dream job. I was miserable, often coming home crying from the amount of stress and discrimination I experienced from faculty members in my workplace. I took a chance and applied to graduate school, to which I was accepted. Today, I write this as I also work on article publications, prepare for my nephew to spend the weekend at my apartment, and play with my puppies. I haven’t cried in a long time, and I am so grateful for the new opportunities I have decided to pursue, as it has led me to become my most authentic self. I live with gratitude daily, grateful that I have this chance to become the person I am, having the opportunity to work with wonderful, unique communities, and work among people who value and respect what I offer personally and professionally. Sometimes I lay in bed at night and wonder how lucky I am to have a second chance, knowing not just how I am valued but the value I have for myself by pursuing a different path than what I thought was my dream career. I have not always been the best at recalling my blessings and using gratitude to indicate growth. Still, in taking my therapist's suggestion of journaling over the past year, I have been able to reassess and emphasize the importance of gratitude in my life. I do my best to express gratitude for this new opportunity every day and make this experience worthwhile through assisting my peers, spending time with family, collaborating with professors, and contributing to rural LGBTQ+ community research. Gratitude has brought me to where I am today, and I look forward to more opportunities to appreciate the people, environment, and places around me.

I feel like my goals are so simple yet complex: I will break down closet doors throughout the American South. As a graduate student of American history at Western Carolina University, I am diving headfirst into the studies of LGBTQ+ spaces and individuals throughout Appalachia and the American South. In doing this, not only does this complicate constructions of Southern identity but also expands the canon of LGBTQ+ history to a region often excluded from broader studies of the subject. Through my work, my goal is to uplift obscured voices within the area who feel unheard or have been silenced to create a more diverse, broad social construction of Southern identity and history. This goal takes time, as it requires community involvement in LGBTQ+ spaces, unceasing research, and several forays into academic scholarships to broaden the conceptual, historical canon of a queer Appalachia and queer American South. Therefore, in addition to my work as a historian and educator, I plan to engage with local and regional LGBTQ+ organizations to support and uplift queer youth and community efforts. I hope to create spaces in academic and regional communities to discuss identity's social and communal constructions through this. Engaging with this, I hope to aid in the development of a more diverse, accepting Southern climate that values all members of the region. Simultaneously, I will confront the troubling mythologized "moonlight and magnolias" South constructed and used as canon to alienate and mistreat marginalized communities throughout the region. As I work towards these professional goals throughout my time as an educator and historian, I hope to complicate the broader assertions of Southern identity. Breaking down the closet door not only creates an open space to uplift such communities, illuminating many beautiful qualities of the region and its people.

I had never felt more confident than I currently do when I rejected the societal definitions of gender and embraced my identity as a non-binary individual. Growing up, I lacked confidence and self-esteem in every aspect of my life. Due to my fear of rejection and not understanding the depths of my own identity, I often attempted to maintain the image of a “perfect, normal girl” to mask the unease I felt with myself. Confidence means accepting yourself as you are, which I was unable to do in my youth due to my conditioning of societal definitions of gender and gender roles. I never felt confident describing myself as a “girl“ or a “woman” because no matter what I did, I never lived up to those expectations. No, as an adult, I am bracing the complexity of my own identity, my strengths, and weaknesses as well as my joy and sorrow, which allows me to be more authentic and confident in who I am and who I will be. Developing confidence is not a simple process, as many societal and environmental pressures must be unpacked. I recognize that living visibly and displaying my self-love helps normalize diversity and inclusivity in my local community. Though many have attempted to disparage me for who I am. In contrast, they may have been successful in my youth. Still, I will no longer accept or tolerate such abuses because I value myself and those around me over some arbitrary, unspoken, outdated understanding. Some days are easier than others, but knowing that exploring the love of myself and upending heteronormative paradigms will create more inclusive futures, gives me the strength to be confident in all I do.

My goals are so simple yet complex: I will break down closet doors throughout the American South. As a graduate student of American history at Western Carolina University, I am diving headfirst into the studies of LGBTQ+ spaces and individuals throughout Appalachia and the American South. In doing this, not only does this complicate constructions of Southern identity but also expands the canon of LGBTQ+ history to a region often excluded from broader studies of the subject. Through my work, my goal is to uplift obscured voices within the area who feel unheard or have been silenced to create a more diverse, broad social construction of Southern identity and history. This goal takes time, as it requires community involvement in LGBTQ+ spaces, unceasing research, and several forays into academic scholarships to broaden the conceptual, historical canon of a queer Appalachia and queer American South. Therefore, in addition to my work as a historian and educator, I plan to engage with local and regional LGBTQ+ organizations to support and uplift queer youth and community efforts. I hope to create spaces in academic and regional communities to discuss identity's social and communal constructions through this. Engaging with this, I hope to aid in the development of a more diverse, accepting Southern climate that values all members of the region. Simultaneously, I'll be confronting the troubling mythologized "moonlight and magnolias" South constructed and used as the typical cannon to alienate and mistreat marginalized communities throughout the region. As I work towards these professional goals throughout my time as an educator and historian, I hope to complicate the broader assertions of Southern identity. Breaking down the closet door not only creates an open space to uplift such communities, illuminating many beautiful qualities of the region and its people.

I feel like my goals are so simple yet complex: I will break down closet doors throughout the American South. As a graduate student of American history at Western Carolina University, I am diving headfirst into the studies of LGBTQ+ spaces and individuals throughout Appalachia and the American South. In doing this, not only does this complicate constructions of Southern identity but also expands the canon of LGBTQ+ history to a region often excluded from broader studies of the subject. Through my work, my goal is to uplift obscured voices within the area who feel unheard or have been silenced to create a more diverse, broad social construction of Southern identity and history. This goal takes time, as it requires community involvement in LGBTQ+ spaces, unceasing research, and several forays into academic scholarships to broaden the conceptual, historical canon of a queer Appalachia and queer American South. Therefore, in addition to my work as a historian and educator, I plan to engage with local and regional LGBTQ+ organizations to support and uplift queer youth and community efforts. I hope to create spaces in academic and regional communities to discuss identity's social and communal constructions through this. Engaging with this, I hope to aid in the development of a more diverse, accepting Southern climate that values all members of the region. Simultaneously, I'll be confronting the troubling mythologized "moonlight and magnolias" South that has been constructed is used as the typical cannon to alienate and mistreat marginalized communities throughout the region. As I work towards these professional goals throughout my time as an educator and historian, I hope to complicate the broader assertions of Southern identity. Breaking down the closet door not only creates an open space to uplift such communities, illuminating many beautiful qualities of the region and its people.

When I was thirteen, if you had told me that I would be working towards a master's degree, living openly as a queer, non-binary individual, having two dogs and that I am happy with my life, I would have laughed at you. I never thought I would make it past eighteen years old. I didn't see myself having a future, so I devoted myself to studying the past. I have struggled with anxiety and depression for so long, lacking self-confidence and self-esteem. Still, my will is indomitable. I remember the long hours of pushing myself to be top of the class because no one saw the troubled kid behind the A's. I remember all the community service events where I put on a smile to feel something that helped others. After the long nights, I remember dragging myself out of bed after wrestling with my anxious and depressed thoughts, convincing myself that I could make it one more day if I could make it to the next sunrise. I found solace in those nights studying history, searching the pages for the hands of someone who may have been like me. Unfortunately, I never saw that person because my story had not been told yet. I now work to uplift the obscured history of rural LGBTQ+ spaces and people in the Appalachian and American South. Part of this work is personally passion-driven, but the other is that young people like myself who struggle with their mental health, identity, and place in their community will not have to suffer the same as I did. That I have the chance to tell my story and record it in the narratives of history is a miracle. I will not squander this precious opportunity I have to create positive, monumental changes for all.

My bisexual pride flag had always hung in my apartment's living room, but this was the first time my five-year-old nephew had noticed it. It was a typical weekend visit where we had read books, played Mario Kart, and made cheese quesadillas and nachos when he suddenly asked me what "that thing on the wall" was. For all of my planning and preparation of how I would explain this crucial part of my identity to my nephew, I find myself at a loss for words for this moment. Perhaps it is because he is so young, and I'm not sure that he will grasp it, or maybe I feared his disdain, just as I feared my parents' rejection when I was closeted. Finally, I managed to stumble through an explanation of the flag, what it means, and how it applies to me. For five years old, he considers the answer carefully before piping up with the question, "do you love yourself?" I hesitated because this was not the question I was expecting, but I responded to him, "yes, I do love myself just as I can love others." My nephew smiles at me, hugs me, and says, "Okay, MJ. That makes sense," before starting the next round of Mario Kart. Moments like this have given me hope that the future will be accepting, inclusive, and diverse. Looking back on my experiences of growing up in the rule Appalachian region of the American South as a closeted member of the LGBTQ+ community, I often wondered if I could ever belong to this area where I had grown up and loved so dearly. Many rural queer Appalachians and Southerners share similar experiences, often feeling like they need to move to urban settings out of the region for acceptance. However, the work of many notable scholars, community organizations, and queer individuals to provide safe spaces and resources for rural queer individuals has created a social change in how members of the LGBTQ+ community are perceived by many in these small-town communities. The open dialogue of identity acceptance and strengthened bonds of unconditional love within the community have created little moments like this, with the voices of future generations revealing themselves to pass on the love and acceptance they have learned, witnessed, and felt in their hearts. There is still much work to be done not just within the American south but throughout the nation to combat homophobia, transphobia, and discrimination against LGBTQ+ individuals. Yet, it is genuinely a moment such as these where one can see the fruits of the historical and contemporary efforts to combat discrimination against sexual orientation and gender identity. The most important work is currently being done to create a hopeful future. Children like my nephew who discover their queer identity will have open, excepting spaces filled with love and affirmation to learn this joyful part of their identity. They will feel loved and accepted every step throughout that journey, which is the pinnacle of hope.

One may look at tabletop gaming as an odd choice of creative expression, but there is no other fluid yet engaging creative outlet that leaves me so fulfilled. My game of choice for tabletop role-playing games, my friends, niece, and nephews is Dungeons and Dragons. I have spent hours carefully crafting intricate maps, ruminating over plot lines and requests, painting mini-figures, and practicing my vocal chops to develop the immersive fantasy world we built together. It takes much creativity to create an engaging story, make an immersive experience for your players, and bring depth to this collaborative storytelling experience. On the surface, these gaming sessions can be seen as getting together to engage in a fantastic game experience, but it becomes more complex when considered further. Playing and running tabletop games like dungeons and dragons requires innate creativity and problem-solving skills, which allows you to examine common problems from different perspectives. In addition, creating a space and world of shared experience between the game master and players qualifies for exploring personality, philosophy, and essential questions of the human experience. For some friends and family, the open creativity of playing a character in a tabletop role-playing game allowed them to embrace aspects of their identity, giving them a safe space to experiment and explore themselves before they were ready to share that publicly. For others, these gaming sessions have been an escape from the difficulties of their daily life, giving them something positive to look forward to. Though not a complete fix, the creativity that I have applied in tabletop gaming has not only created opportunities for growth among family and friends but has also revealed further avenues for creativity beyond the Dungeons and Dragons experience for myself and the players.

I could feel the lump in my throat form as I stood in front of Dr. Cosner, admitting that my semester-long project was incomplete. I did my best to quell the tears that pricked the corners of my eyes as I accepted the project's fault and anticipated failure, trying not to think about the possibility that I had just failed a class in my first semester of undergrad. I had run through the scenario at least a hundred times as I was traveling to the final exam with my three-quarters completed Atlantic History timeline project, knowing that I had to accept the consequences of my inaction and procrastination. Would she fail me for the class then and there? Would she speak with the department head to discourage my involvement in the program? Worst of all, would she be disappointed in me, like I was currently disappointed in myself? Yet, her kindness and grace were not among the possibilities I had mentally tried to prepare myself for. I will never forget how she looked at me with so much compassion as she said, "Thank you for being honest. I am sad I will not get to see this project in its completion, but I appreciate the effort you have put into it regardless. I will grade what you have, and you'll receive a class email when I finish grading the projects and exams." Even when she dismissed my assertions that I deserved to fail, I was dumbfounded and sent on my way with kind words and reassurances. Therefore, it is the most significant academic failure of my undergraduate experience that forever altered my understanding and expressions of generosity, empathy, and kindness. At nineteen years old, I considered myself mature enough to accept the academic punishment and demerit as an adult, yet I discovered I had an immature understanding of the profound capacity for grace and compassion that humans can possess and the impact those gestures leave on an individual. As a result, I left the classroom a better person than when I entered it, as Dr. Cosner truly taught me one of my most valuable lessons in a three-minute conversation. I am a better teacher, historian, and person for having this experience, for it has emphasized, as Dan Fogelberg puts it in "The Leader of the Band," the profound effect of "the gentle means of sculpting souls." It is crucial to meet people where they are in teaching and life. There are times when that is not always where you or at, but you may have expected it to be. Dr. Cosner met me where I was: trying to do the mature thing of being honest and having integrity while knowing I had failed to meet her expectations. While I was her student, she also recognized that I was also human and reminded me that humans could not be perfect all the time. Showing me the grace and compassion she did at this moment helped me grow and develop reasonable, realistic goals for myself never to let situations like this happen in the future. This is a story I share with my students and fellow graduate students throughout my career as a historian and educator. I use a story as a touchstone to emphasize that I am there to support them on their educational journey to become the best versions of themselves and display for themselves the same compassion and grace that Dr. Cosner once showed to me. It is genuinely through dignity, compassion, and love that we can grow as individuals, allowing us to cultivate similar growth in others.

Generosity is the most precious resource a person has - time. Devoting the precious commodity of time to the service of yourself and others is the most compassionate and generous thing a person can do. In viewing generosity through this lens, generosity can attain multiple forms and meanings for each person, simultaneously being a finite and renewable resource that we can give and receive. Humans wrestle with what they should do with the time they are given and what purpose their lives serve in the entwining threads of the overarching global narrative. Generosity, whether using your time to improve yourself, assist others, support your community, or change the world, is the most crucial connection and precious action a human can do with their time. The way you spend your time is a reflection of your generosity. Whether that time is spent ensuring your children are cared for, you invest your time in protest for social justice platforms and advocacy, opening your heart and home to refugees or those in need, or joining the local litter clean up, the generosity of individuals and communities is made manifest in these expenditures of time. Generosity can be as simple as waiting with a child for their parent to pick them up when they are running late or as complex as devoting one's life to cultural preservation or societal improvement. Through these myriad devotions of time, we can see the intersectionalities and diversity of generosity through this devoted time, as this value truly defies binary definitions and transcends expectation. Ironically, perhaps asking for definitions of generosity is inefficient as a generative force to spread this critical value. Instead, one should inquire the opposite; "How does your time reflect your generosity?" With this framing, the creation of opportunity and expression allows generosity to be illuminated.