I was only four years old the first time my mother was arrested. My father, twin brother and I huddled together as two officers held her arms behind her back, clicking her handcuffs and her life with her sons shut. I still remember watching the police car drive her away while my tears blurred the red and blue lights into the city skyline. At the time, I was much too young to understand that my mother was just a person plagued with addiction. That she was struggling more than I could ever imagine. And that it was my own father who gave the police an anonymous tip about her sickness. Two years later, even though he did all he could, my father could no longer afford to raise my twin brother and me alone. So, we were sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle and their own 5 children. Though I will always be grateful for my Aunt and Uncle's generosity, I never felt included in their already-established family. For years, I felt like a burden in my own home, and, without a mother active in my life, I felt unloved and unseen. I struggled in school, my relationship with my Aunt and Uncle fell apart, and I closed myself off from the world. I was sentenced to a struggle with depression early in my childhood, and my heart wept for the life my twin brother and I could have had. It wasn't until one day in high school that I changed my perspective on my life. I received news from my dad that my older half-brother had been arrested and sentenced to time in prison. Unlike my twin brother and I, he didn't get to leave the family he was born into, and he made the same mistakes that my mother, and generations of fathers and mothers before her had made. I realized that I had the opportunity to break a cycle of addiction, trauma, and pain. I could use the pain I had endured to make the world a better place. So, I set my hopes high and I dreamed of a better world for me and my family. I tried harder in school, I became more involved in my community, and I started to nourish the bond with my Aunt, Uncle, and my so-called "cousin-sisters". Eventually, my hard work paid off - I broke free of my chains and graduated with high honors. My next step wasn't prison, but college. Regardless, I still struggled with the long-term effects of my mother's incarceration. I spent years in high school fighting my depression. I was fettered with feelings of worthlessness and sorrow. I spent my whole first year of college just trying to figure out how to fit in. To this day, I have a hard time explaining my situation to peers and faculty. Fortunately, utilizing therapy and finding people who can empathize with my struggle has helped me to understand the power that my story holds. I am even rebuilding a relationship with my mother, who has been released from the grasp of the prison system for four years now. Now, I am studying Political Science with the goal of eventually practicing law. I hope to one day federally influence the United States Prison system and the systems that put marginalized individuals more at risk for incarceration. The best way to avoid the circumstances of my justice-touched loved ones is to fight for a world where they could have flourished in the first place. I, Noah Schaefbauer, refuse to let prison bars keep me from my dreams.