The wild greenery pricks at your legs as you walk, stretching high enough to reach perfectly above your shins. As I survey my surroundings, I notice the array of colorful flowers that dot the yard adding a soft touch to the uncut lawn. The weeds outside have become untamable—an almost symbolic mirror to the inside of the home. Inside, there is an eerie silence that echoes throughout the house as the dishes sit still, the messes pile up and the empty take-out bags sit abandoned. My mom is physically present, yet it is as if I merely live with a ghost. While most kids in my classes went home to complain about their chores, and the math homework that was assigned I returned home to a full yet empty home. Old food, hungry kids, and consistent uncertainty. My life, my time and my homework would have to wait for another time. I do not place blame; my mom has been overwhelmed by her own life and could not handle the stress of what lay at home. However, in an abandoned corner of my mind I had hoped she would one day come to the realization that I too could succumb to being overwhelmed. The role I played at home led to me feeling isolated and disconnected from my peers. My teachers didn’t see an issue when my grades began to slip lower than before. A math teacher even noting that I needed to pay more attention in class if I wanted to do better. As the burdens at home grew greater with time, I began to see the differences beyond my own walls. As I walk the streets of my neighborhood, a well-known side of town where “the rich kids live,” I see the well taken care of lawns and their beautiful flowers that grow. I also recognize the familiar pit in my stomach as I watch the families in the home sit outside to enjoy their day, not knowing the doors that I will soon walk into. Just like the teachers that once turned a blind eye, it was as if the neighbors overlooked the wild jungle that lay just around the corner. The memory of feeling ignored will always linger, along with the feeling of failure once I fell behind my peers in academics, and the silent battles I have fought alone. However, these hardships have shaped me and helped me recognize that students need to be acknowledged for not just their academic success but for their grit and overcoming obstacles. I yearn to become a teacher. I yearn to create a safe space for students to learn, but to also offer an escape from the burdens they carry outside of the classroom. Life is often deeper than what can be seen. I have been granted the opportunity to start that journey early through my student teaching, where I have been able to work directly with students in high-risk situations. Standing in front of a classroom where the students look up to you for guidance has helped me realize how powerful it is to just be emotionally present. As I gaze out the kitchen window that overlooks into my yard, I no longer see the wild shrubbery as a nuisance. Rather, I can see the beauty that lies within the struggle—the grass thrives as it grows despite its obvious signs of neglect. Although not perfectly maintained, it grows and someday, with the proper direction, care and guidance, that same yard will thrive.