I use to be lost and confused about what I wanted to do in life. Then, my life radically changed in late 2022. That year, I had just turned 21. I was a part-time barista and feeling very stuck. I had explored college, but because of finances, I couldn't keep attending school. I had already experienced a great deal of loss due to the 2020 pandemic. I was honestly at a complete crossroads, as most young adults are. I felt as though my life was just starting, but I still felt pressure about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Then in November of 2022, my mother and I lost our home. We had to escape domestic violence. And tragically, I lost my job at the same time. It felt like I could not catch a break. I was beyond scared. Facing homelessness, being jobless, and a potentially life-threatening situation all at once was nearly more than I could bear. My mom and I carefully searched for jobs for me. It was one thing we could control at the time - and the one thing that would help secure us a safe home. And then we found it. In December, I found a listing to be a paraeducator in a special education classroom at my former high school. I remember feeling physically ill about the idea of going back to my old high school. But my mom insisted that I view it as a reset and something familiar in an otherwise scary and unfamiliar time. I got the job. We got a safe home and escaped our abuser. And I fell in love with education. From the moment I felt the joy of shaping young minds, I knew I wanted nothing more than to be a teacher. I knew this was the avenue I wanted to take to change and shape the world. Nothing motivates me more. In a scary, uncertain time, I found something that saved me in more ways than one. Not long after that first year as a paraeducator ended, I knew it was time to go to school, no matter the cost. No matter how many loans it would take. I sat and thought about everything I went through; I thought about the common themes in my adulthood so far. What stood out most was that every time I thought something felt too challenging, or something literally destroyed my life, it pushed me beyond what I thought was possible. It always put me on a better path. I thought about what subject I wanted to teach, and there was only one clear answer: science. It was another challenge, as I was never "good" at science. But one I could choose. One I knew would still help me grow. I knew the degree would be challenging. I knew that I was choosing a difficult path to teaching. That is what excites me. I knew that if I could tell students that I had to work hard to understand something, then it would be much easier to help them learn and love science too. I could help inspire the next generation of people who aren't afraid to be challenged. No one is "good" at science. I no longer believe in such silly concepts. I believe you are what you make yourself. And I am making myself to be the best teacher someday, that I can be.

I used to think I wasn't "good" at science. I was not gifted like many of my peers. Throughout my schooling, I consistently failed every science test. I spent many lunches retaking tests throughout high school. I loved science, but I felt it didn't love me back. So I wrote the subject off entirely as an adult. I firmly believed there would never be a reason to use it again. But then, my life radically changed in late 2022. That year, I had just turned 21. I was a part-time barista and very unsure about what I wanted to do with my life. I had explored college, but because of finances, I couldn't keep attending school. I had already experienced a great deal of loss due to the 2020 pandemic. I was honestly at a complete crossroads, as most young adults are. I felt as though my life was just starting, but I still felt pressure about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Then in November of 2022, my mother and I lost our home. We had to escape domestic violence. And tragically, I lost my job at the same time. It felt like I could not catch a break. I was beyond scared. Facing homelessness, being jobless, and a potentially life-threatening situation all at once was nearly more than I could bear. My mom and I carefully searched for jobs for me. It was one thing we could control at the time - and the one thing that would help secure us a safe home. And then we found it. In December, I found a listing to be a paraeducator in a special education classroom at my former high school. I remember feeling physically ill about the idea of going back to my old high school. But my mom insisted that I view it as a reset and something familiar in an otherwise scary and unfamiliar time. I got the job. We got a safe home and escaped our abuser. And I fell in love with education. From the moment I felt the joy of shaping young minds, I knew I wanted nothing more than to be a teacher. I knew this was the avenue I wanted to take to change and shape the world. Nothing motivates me more. In a scary, uncertain time, I found something that saved me in more ways than one. That spring, as I clung to my addiction to supporting youth, I decided to coach the tennis team. Not long after that first tennis season and my first year as a paraeducator ended, I knew it was time to go to school, no matter the cost. No matter how many loans it would take. I sat and thought about everything I went through; I thought about the common themes in my adulthood so far. What stood out most was that every time I thought I couldn't do something, or something felt too challenging, or something literally destroyed my life, it pushed me beyond what I thought was possible. It always put me on a better path. I thought about what subject I wanted to teach, and there was only one clear answer: science. Science was once my Goliath. Now it seemed so small in comparison. Still a challenge, but one I could choose. One I knew would still help me grow. I knew the degree would be challenging. I remember crying through homework in middle and high school. College would be worse. I knew that I was choosing a difficult path to teaching. But that is what excited me. And still does now, as I am halfway through my bachelor's. I knew that if I could tell students that I had to work hard to understand something, then it would be much easier to help them learn and love science too. I could help inspire the next generation of scientists. Or the next generation of people who aren't afraid to be challenged. Who can see what good it does. No one is "good" at science. I no longer believe in such silly concepts. I believe you are what you make yourself. Science is challenging, and I have learned to love challenges. They no longer feel like obstacles; instead, they feel like growth. I have learned to love science, and I am excited to share this with students. Sometimes the hardest things in life won't be a science test, but that science test can prepare you for what's to come.

In December 2022, I began my career in education. With a background in working with the disabled population, I decided to explore being a paraeducator. I was assigned to a special education classroom in a high school. At the same time, I also became the head tennis coach at the same high school. To be perfectly honest, I had no intention of falling in love with education. I intended to do my jobs well and with dignity of course, but I had no idea how much they would change my life. At the time I was 21, I had dreams of doing something else with my life. But I have always, more than anything, just wanted to help others. It wasn’t long before I realized how much that is all educating is. Seeing students grow was utterly electrifying. That fall, I decided I wanted to go to school to become a high school biology teacher. I realized how much my students had changed my life, how happy I was, how exciting it was to see students learn and to have a direct part in that. I knew a classroom was where I belonged. I always get asked why I don’t want to teach special education and to that I answer that special education isn’t a subject like science or math. The longer I have worked in the special education department in my school, the more I understand every teacher is a special education teacher. Every student needs differentiated instruction, needs patience, needs understanding, etc. Students could be living with an undiagnosed disability. Or even if they are diagnosed, it doesn’t mean they don’t belong in my classroom or any classroom. As long as I am a teacher, no matter what subject I teach, I will be a special education teacher. I would not be worth those carpeted floors I’d walk on, if I chose to make my classroom inaccessible. I plan to bring my experience of working in special education to my biology classroom. It is common in schools that allow integration in gen ed classrooms, to rarely see special education students in a science classroom. I want to change that. However, inclusion without proper support is not inclusion, it is neglect. To ensure that I can provide proper education to students with disabilities, I plan to have a few different versions of my lesson and assignments. I am willing to collaborate with students, with their case managers, and of course paraeducators. I am willing to advocate for my students and their needs to my administration and district. I am also comfortable with learning forever. I do not view any of this as “extra work”, I firmly believe this is part of my job. I know I cannot do it alone, but no teacher can do anything alone. I know there may be push back, I know precious paraeducators are as a resource, but students with disability deserve access to anywhere their gen ed peers are. If a student can be in my classroom with the proper support, they absolutely should be. Historically, the disabled population is underserved, underrepresented, and not cared for nearly enough. This is true even in schools. I feel as though, when educators care about their students, of all backgrounds, real change can happen. We all know the injustices disabled people face, they should not have to face them in school. I intend to do my part in ensuring this kind of future one biology lesson at a time.

I was a child who was both in and out of everyone's world. I was constantly drowning in mine. I had always thought that it was something that I would grow out of. Someday, I'd be just like everyone else. In my teens, I struggled through my classes. I often understood what I was learning, but homework overwhelmed me and often brought me to tears. I was not successful in the social aspect either. I would lose friends for reasons I never understood. I had created systems of how I completed my homework. I would often weigh how many points I could afford to lose on a certain assignment to still earn an A or B. I would then only work just to earn that grade, I could rarely muster going above and beyond. I had made sure I had enough energy for a bigger project for another class or for the rest of my homework load. If a project presented novelty or particular interest to me, I would create grand plans to go above and beyond. Sometimes I'd follow through, sometimes I would freeze in paralyzation as I struggled to make my project "perfect". I was just surviving and I did not know it. I always earned "good" grades. I was never in trouble. I followed the rules to the letter. No one saw the signs, I had thought they were a personal moral failing. My parents weren't aware of my struggles. How could they? I felt ashamed that I struggled. I felt lazy, unmotivated, and all at the same time terrified of failure. I couldn't share, or I thought I'd face scrutiny. It wasn't until after I graduated high school, I began working, and the world shut down right after, I learned about ADHD. It was a slow questioning, it wasn't something I attached myself to right away. I still believed I was lazy or I was tired from work. But as the world began opening up again, I began working again, there were other signs that were too loud to ignore. It was apparent that there was something wrong. I knew how to cook, clean, organize, etc. But why couldn't I keep up? I had dreams of going to school again, I knew I couldn't maintain everything and go to school. So I pursued answers. In July of 2023, I sought therapy. The more my therapist and I talked, the more he thought it was a good idea to test for ADHD. A month later, I was diagnosed. I have since seen two psychiatrists who have agreed. Finally having the language for what was happening to me was so relieving I cried. It wasn't my fault. It opened a whole world of learning about disability, what it means, what it doesn't. And to this day, I am still learning mine. It has been such a steep learning curve. Years of suppression have made my road to understanding myself a little harder. But it's been a journey I wouldn't trade for anything. I work two jobs and go to school full time. I have dreams of being a biology teacher. Being a paraeducator and high school tennis coach made me fall in love with education. Everyday is still such a battle, more than ever. I work so much and I earn so little, financially. Homework still brings me to tears. But now, I know how to navigate it all better. I have professional help. My disability has taught me to be kinder to myself. I am allowed to struggle because I always overcome.

I was always “bad” at math and science. I consistently struggled with exams in school. I aced anything that had to do with the arts, almost without trying, but anything “logical” seemed to escape me. It wasn’t for lack of trying, I just had to work harder than my peers. Truthfully, it could have been all in part of my undiagnosed ADHD. If I wasn’t immediately good at something, I felt like it was pointless trying. If it lacked novelty, or a “spark”, for me I lost the gumption to keep trying. I have since been diagnosed, managing my extreme perfectionism, and I understand the value in everything even if it lacks a “spark” for me. At the time however, my only real motivation was fear of failure that kept me from giving up on math or science completely. I was unaware I was struggling with an undiagnosed disability, but still knew I wanted to succeed and tried everything I could to. However in seventh grade, I was introduced to biology and felt the “spark”. I was fascinated by the world of life science. I had an incredible teacher who fostered interest because she genuinely loved science. Her enthusiasm and care easily rubbed off on me. She also took her time to help me when I struggled. While this newfound love and support did not automatically make me a science genius, I began to enjoy working hard to understand biology. Earning it felt fun. It wasn’t discouraging like math was still at times, and it wasn’t effortless like arts. The more I learned about biology, the more I learned everything was so closely connected. I was thrilled learning about how everything affects everything else. How every living thing matters. How I was a part of things bigger than I understood, than myself. It was bigger than learning a core subject, to me it was one of the first things that I can recall that helped me shape my worldview. At 12 years old, I knew I wanted to pursue a career in science. Something that would allow me to better the world around me, help others. Originally I wanted to have a career in neuroscience, however life has a funny way of showing you where you are meant to be. I stumbled across beginning my career in education, I fell in love with teaching and being in a classroom. Right now I am a teacher assistant in a special education classroom and the head tennis coach at the same school. With this experience and my love for biology, I decided I want to be a high school biology teacher. While none of this was in my original plans, I have never felt so sure about what I want to do. I hope to be at least as half as great to my students, as my biology teacher was to me. I am happy to say, it seems very likely she will be my mentor teacher. I want to inspire the next generation of thinkers and community carers. I want students to see that it’s okay to struggle, it is okay to work hard at something. I want students to see that disability isn’t a bad thing and anyone can be successful. I want to bridge the gap between special education and science. I want to bring my experience and knowledge from working in special education to my department someday. Every student can learn, every student deserves proper inclusion. I aim to help achieve all of this, and hopefully more, in whatever school I am lucky enough to teach in someday.