Hi there, I am Olivia McCool from Westville, Oklahoma! Now that I have graduated High School I am enrolled and set to attend Northeastern State University in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. Throughout high school, I was an active member of the FFA, Class Officers, and National Honor Society. Being active in organizations like these taught me a true love for networking and experiencing true citizenship in the community. While I am going to have to leave behind these organizations I love, the skills I learned will stay close. The early mornings, late nights, and long days were challenges at the time, but there is not a day that goes past that I forget the relationships I've built and the changes that were made. I began my work experience in the summer of 2023, when I applied for the youth development professional position in the Boys and Girls Club of Adair County. This job set the building blocks of my passion for teaching and helping the youth. From helping tutor to just talking about the problems they were having. I learned there is so much joy that can come from believing in a child. Working for this organization for the last 3 years, I watched each student grow and change. This helped me in making my decision on the next step in life. At university, I plan to study Early Childhood education. Knowing I will be around like-minded people in my classes, I plan to make a group of friends who will help me to continue my work of helping the community. Little minds are moldable, and our goal as educators should be to build them up and help them understand their worth and intelligence. Being a young child in a poverty-stricken town can seem like a disadvantage, but with the help of teachers and supporting adults, students are given opportunities to rise from the occasion. Once obtaining my degree, I intend to return to my hometown of Westville to teach a Pre-kindergarten class. This will be a difficult task to complete, but if I keep my mind set on the end goal of inspiring a young person to achieve their goals, it should be as easy as going to work for the Boys and Girls Club. I want to wake up each day and choose to work in an environment where students feel welcome. Working with the families individually can help the community feel more together, and able to grow and raise eachother up daily.

A job that sparked a goal always seemed far-fetched to me. Going into the summer before my junior year, I knew I needed a way to make money and help my parents financially. Being active in FFA, I began to look for an opportunity that would fit my goals. When I heard about the Boys and Girls' Club of Adair County, I knew it sounded like a good idea. I prayed about the decision I was fixing to make and asked God to show me the path he intended for me. From that day forward, I kept thinking about the amazing opportunities that could come from working at the school. To me, that was a sign that this would start a new journey in my life. How true that was. While in the position, I was able to network with so many other educators and oversee a day in their classrooms. For example, a teacher I had in Pre-Kindergarten, Mrs. Swank, offered to be my internship mentor throughout the whole process. Through this experience, I saw each student grow in so many different ways. From counting to reading, even spelling, each student showed me the success that comes from someone pouring into them, much like when I was that age. Students often shared things in their lives, and being home, in some cases, was a struggle. In a rural town, many families struggle to provide for their children and often go without. Staying after school with the Boys and Girls Club students taught me patience, listening, and a love for helping each student. It also showed me the importance of working and listening closely to the goals they have in mind for themselves and their future. Some want to be Doctors, Teachers, and Lineman, but all want to be heard and understood for more than just their situation. In the classroom, I witnessed a personal connection between the teachers and the students. From sharing their parents losing their jobs, and even being kicked out of the house, the children told trusted adults this information. My goal in becoming an educator is to develop that same relationship with the students in my class. Helping the younger students to believe in themselves even during hard times can help them become more confident children, teens, and adults later in life. Those mindsets need to be instilled at a younger age, and within the classroom environment, there will be days when students share battles. Some of these battles were between parents, and some were financial, but all affected the students differently. Becoming an educator took learning the differences of each student and learning to be effective in helping that individual. No two students are alike, and no two situations are identical, but no one deserves to go at their problems alone. My job as an educator will be to remind them they aren't their situation. To develop a relationship with each person that will last a lifetime. I will do everything in my power to create a safe environment where students can learn the building blocks of their education, as well as feel safe and happy to return each day. My passion will be towards helping the students with their emotions and social behaviors. Coming to school for their first year may be challenging, but why not show them that their struggles aren't defining the love they deserve? Everyone who comes into my classroom will be accepted into our family, and we can discuss everything, one worry at a time.

Positivity is something I didn't always put forth. At the beginning of my freshman year, I thought I was too cool to be positive. Once I met my group of friends, it was hard not to be. We joined the National Honor Society and the FFA Chapter in our school so we could spread that light. While each of us chose different avenues, I chose to do it with the Lord in my hand. Each community service opportunity seemed like a calling for me to be a better person for the people around me. As the year continued, I realized I simply wasn't doing enough, and this feeling followed me throughout every year of high school. I joined Class Officers, where I was given the opportunity to help shape the school in ways that benefit the students who attend it. Through this organization, we also volunteered at the local food bank, giving back to the community in a meaningful and heartfelt way. I know this project will not cease after my high school career is done. An ingrown fondness has sparked in my heart for helping the people around me. I plan to continue working with my church group to support community members in need, as well as dedicating my time to serving the less fortunate. More than just an activity, service has become a part of who I am. It has taught me humility, compassion, and the importance of lifting others up. Through these experiences, I have also learned that positivity is not always easy. There are moments when people are struggling, when situations feel overwhelming, and when a simple smile does not seem like enough. However, I have come to understand that even the smallest actions—offering a kind word, lending a helping hand, or simply being present—can make a difference in someone’s life. Positivity is not about ignoring hardships, but about choosing to bring light into those moments despite them. As I move forward into the next chapter of my life, I will carry these values with me. Whether through small acts of kindness or larger commitments to service, I want to continue making a positive impact. I hope to inspire others the same way my friends and mentors inspired me, showing that one person’s attitude can influence an entire community. What started as something I once overlooked has now become a guiding principle in my life—one that will continue to shape who I am and how I choose to serve others.

My “Pie in the Sky” dream is to become a safe space and a role model for every student who walks through my door. This isn’t just an aspiration I casually hold onto—it feels like a deep, personal calling. When I picture my future as a teacher, the very first thing I see is the environment I want to build: a classroom where students feel seen, supported, and genuinely cared for. I’ve always believed that nothing is truly out of reach if I feel drawn to it, and teaching is one of those paths that pulls at my heart every single day. I feel the Lord working in me constantly, shaping me into someone who can pour kindness, patience, and understanding into others. One moment in particular led me to realize just how meaningful this calling is. It happened during a Wednesday night Bible study. I was sitting beside a young girl I didn’t know very well at the time, and in the middle of our study, she began to open up about struggles she was facing at home. She shared how overwhelming things had become and how isolated she felt, believing there was no one she could truly turn to. As she talked, her emotions began to spill over, and she trusted me with very personal details—things that had clearly been weighing heavily on her heart. Listening to her, comforting her, and simply being present in that moment made something click inside me. It felt like I had stepped through a door I hadn’t fully recognized until then. I realized that this—being someone who can offer safety, warmth, and understanding—is exactly the kind of impact I want to have on others, especially young people who may not have anyone else to turn to. That experience wasn’t just touching; it was clarifying. It showed me that the way I show up for people matters. Later, she told me she thought of me like the older sister she never had, and that there are people in the world who need people like me—people who will listen without judgment, offer empathy, and make others feel valued. Hearing that meant more to me than I can put into words. It affirmed not only who I am but who I want to become. That night taught me that sometimes the Lord reveals our purpose not in big dramatic moments, but in quiet conversations where someone simply needs us. It reminded me that the kind of teacher I want to be isn’t just someone who teaches lessons from a curriculum, but someone who teaches through compassion, consistency, and presence. If I can be that safe place for even one student, then I will have fulfilled the dream that started long before I even stepped into a classroom.

Education has always been an emotional journey for me—a journey marked by early praise, overwhelming pressure, periods of deep burnout, and ultimately, a powerful sense of purpose. When I was young, being labeled “gifted and talented” felt like a badge of honor. Teachers and adults praised me for my reading skills, my test scores, and the way I seemed to grasp new ideas so quickly. What I didn’t understand then was that this label came with expectations—expectations that I felt obligated to carry, even when they became too heavy for a child to bear. In those early years, before the pressure began to shape my experience, I truly loved learning. Books felt magical. They were an escape, a comfort, and a window into worlds far bigger than my own. I remember the excitement of choosing new stories, the pride I felt when I finished a chapter, the joy of discovering characters I related to. That love was real, genuine, and bright. But in fourth grade, everything started to change. I had a teacher whose classroom didn’t foster the warmth, creativity, or encouragement I needed. Instead of a welcoming environment where learning felt fun and joyful, the room felt rigid and distant. Reading wasn’t an adventure anymore—it became a task, a performance, something I felt judged on rather than inspired by. For the first time, I wasn’t excited to pick up a book. I wasn’t eager to learn. My love for reading, one of the strongest parts of who I was, slowly began to fade. That shift didn’t just impact my academics—it affected my confidence, my motivation, and the way I viewed myself. By middle school, the weight of expectations and the loss of joy had turned into full burnout. I dreaded going to school. I felt like I was constantly trying to catch up to my past self, the “gifted” version of me that people still expected to see. I pushed myself endlessly, chasing a standard that felt unreachable. Every day felt like a reminder that I was falling short of something I used to be. It was painful, but through that pain, something meaningful began to take shape inside me. I started to understand what it feels like to be a student who struggles quietly. I understood what it meant to feel unseen or misunderstood by the adults responsible for guiding you. I realized how vital a nurturing, compassionate teacher is—especially for children who carry burdens no one else realizes they’re holding. Those difficult years gave me a perspective that textbooks can’t teach, a kind of empathy that only lived experience can create. As I grew older, people encouraged me to pursue education as a career. With a growing shortage of teachers, the idea made sense, but it didn’t truly click until I realized how deeply connected it was to my own story. Teaching wasn’t just a suggestion—it became my calling. Not just teaching, but teaching the youngest learners, the ones just beginning their educational journeys. My heart pulled me toward Pre-K students. There is something incredibly powerful about children at that age. Their minds are like open pages—they are observant, curious, emotional, imaginative, and honest. They see the world with wonder, and they absorb everything around them. When I look at young children, I often see pieces of my younger self—the excitement, the sensitivity, the eagerness to please, the joy that learning once brought me before pressure dimmed it. Teaching Pre-K allows me to be there at the very beginning, where it all starts. I want to help shape their first experiences with school so that those experiences are filled with magic, security, and excitement. I want to show them that learning is fun, that reading is comforting, that exploring new ideas is something to celebrate. I want to protect their spark, nurture their curiosity, and build their confidence so they can carry it with them for years to come. In my future classroom, I imagine bright colors on the walls, shelves full of books of every kind—picture books, storybooks, silly books, heartwarming books. I picture a cozy reading corner where children can curl up with a blanket and fall in love with stories. I imagine hands-on activities, sensory play, projects that encourage creativity, and lessons that meet each child exactly where they are. I want learning to feel natural and joyful, not forced or pressured. Most importantly, I want every child who enters my classroom to feel seen. I want to be the teacher who notices their talents—even the quiet ones, the hidden ones, the ones they don’t realize they have yet. I want to show them that their abilities matter, that they are capable of amazing things, and that mistakes are part of growing, not something to fear. I want to be the teacher who kneels down to a child’s eye level, who listens with patience, who celebrates their small victories, and who guides them with love. I want to be the adult who believes in them before they even know how to believe in themselves. When I imagine the children I’ll teach—those tiny faces, those bright eyes, those big emotions—I feel this overwhelming love and responsibility. I see pieces of myself in them, and I want to be the person who helps them thrive instead of dimming their light. I want to be the reason they stay excited about learning. I want to be the reason they feel safe being who they are. If I can help just one child discover their talent, if I can protect even one spark that might otherwise burn out, if I can be the foundation of confidence and joy for even one student, then all the struggles I endured will have transformed into something beautiful. Teaching Pre-K isn’t just what I want to do—it's who I want to be. It’s my purpose, my passion, and the way I plan to make a difference in every little life that walks through my classroom door.