Ask Questions. Listen. As a woman who struggles with multiple mental illnesses – anxiety, depression, obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), complex PTSD – I know first-hand the impact that silence can have on someone who is struggling. Feeling rebuffed when you finally ask for help is even worse than the initially feigned ignorance of your family and friends. It wasn’t until my first year in college that I discovered for the first time that I had depression and anxiety. It didn’t matter what my AP Psychology textbook or health teacher said, I never connected my feelings to the worse case scenarios teachers warned us about and I attribute this solely to the fact that my family had nowhere to begin when it came to mental wellness. We were the classic middle-class Irish Catholic family, we had enough food, a roof over our heads, and family right around the corner – what was there to be unhappy about? I fully acknowledge that there are so many people in this country and the rest of the world who grew up in worse situations than I, but my family’s negligence of my mental health was not the only. If past generations of Yees and McDonaghs had only inquired about their loved ones’ mental state, then the rampant alcoholism in my family would not exist; the self-harm would not exist; the mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive nature of my family dynamics would not exist. If we don’t look out for our closest loved ones, then who will?

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been fortunate to travel nearly every summer with my father and sister. While our home base was with our family in the west of Ireland, I spent much of my youth traveling the European continent. I remember, as a nine-year-old, staring into the sprawling Roman Forum, as well as the ghostly experience I had at twelve, traversing the skull-lined labyrinth of the catacombs beneath Paris. Each experience left me stunned at the confrontation of history with the contemporary world; fascinated with the intersection of old and new. These experiences instilled in me a profound appreciation and curiosity for the diverse cultures I encountered on my travels while simultaneously sparking my enduring love of history and archaeology. Since my graduation from UMass Amherst in 2018 I have worked in product management for one of the leading higher education publishing companies in the United States, but I am returning to school to pursue a master's degree in archaeology. My specific research interests are the religion of the insular Celtic peoples, how these cultures were impacted by the introduction of Christianity, and the eventual syncretism of polytheistic and Christian beliefs. I am drawn to this research because of my own personal heritage, but also because I truly believe in the importance of studying our collective human past. Archaeology studies the human past by analyzing material remains and it is, in principle, a global minded field. Archaeologists use these remnants to piece together a view of how we as humans once lived and how our past can shed light on the present world’s most daunting challenges. By entering a master’s program in archaeology, I will be engaging with these challenges head on, analyzing the cultural, religious, and socio-economic differences amongst past peoples and how they relate to the very present challenges facing humanity today. While it is impossible to predict the future from the past, historical disciplines like archaeology help to bridge the gap between then and now and formulate actionable solutions to foster better opportunities for humanity. I have always been an avid reader of all genres, but I am undeniably drawn to fantasy and magical realist books. I find that there is great value in using a magical world to represent real world problems. I remember being a middle schooler and reading Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief for the first time. As an adolescent who struggled both with dyslexia and finding my place in the world, much like the titular character, this series helped me build my confidence and embrace my interests in history, mythology, and archaeology. I am excited to join the archaeological field and contribute to the knowledge that authors like Rick Riordan draw upon to build their magical worlds.

Ask Questions. Listen. As a woman who struggles with multiple mental illnesses – anxiety, depression, obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), complex PTSD – I know first-hand the impact that silence can have on someone who is struggling. Feeling rebuffed when you finally ask for help is even worse than the initially feigned ignorance of your family and friends. It wasn’t until my first year in college that I discovered for the first time that I had depression and anxiety. It didn’t matter what my AP Psychology textbook or health teacher said, I never connected my feelings to the worse case scenarios teachers warned us about and I attribute this solely to the fact that my family had nowhere to begin when it came to mental wellness. We were the classic middle-class Irish Catholic family, we had enough food, a roof over our heads, and family right around the corner – what was there to be unhappy about? I fully acknowledge that there are so many people in this country and the rest of the world who grew up in worse situations than I, but my family’s negligence of my mental health was not the only. If past generations of Yees and McDonaghs had only inquired about their loved ones’ mental state, then the rampant alcoholism in my family would not exist; the self-harm would not exist; the mentally, emotionally, and physically abusive nature of my family dynamics would not exist. If we don’t look out for our closest loved ones, then who will?