As was the case for so many, 2020 was a very lonely time of my life. Quarantining had many adverse effects on my mental and physical health, but the isolation brought about an unanticipated and ultimately beneficial bought of self-reflection. Before the pandemic, I had been grappling with depression and was in a desperate search for fulfillment and purpose. I was changing career paths with growing frustration, as each trial left me more dejected than the last. Then Covid took hold, and the whole world paused with bated breath. For the first time in my life, I experienced indefinite and uninterrupted solitude. In my solitude, I discovered two fundamental attributes of my nature. The first is that I genuinely despise being alone. The second, and admittedly more productive realization, is that I will only feel fulfilled by helping others. That year spent living by myself and for myself motivated me to ensure I'll never have to live so egocentrically again. I have since chosen to become an elementary school teacher, a career that will meaningfully contribute to our society's future.

There was something profound about standing at the island's edge. Nothing lay between me and the raging sea below but a sharp plummet and jagged stone. It was truly a sight to behold. Six months had passed since high school graduation, and in that time, I had traveled and seen more than I had in my previous eighteen years. In exchange for room and board, I worked as a volunteer farmhand on small organic operations across the United States. Having come from a financially unstable family, I never dared to dream of taking a leisurely gap year. The agricultural program allowed me to venture far, mingle with various cultures, and see the natural wonders of the world. It was while standing on that rocky embankment, feeling simultaneously minuscule yet larger than life itself, that I realized it was time to enroll in university and begin my educational journey. In my belief, higher education and adventure are two sides of the same coin. Both are pathways to self-realization and emotional enrichment. Having had over half a year of successive escapades, it felt high time to pursue my academic ambitions. I had been certain I'd major in Elementary Education since senior year, and over the course of my excursions, I only became more assured. My college experience will allow me to realize my occupational aims while accumulating social versatility. As a result of my horticultural stint, I now garden profusely in my downtime. Generally, I've become much more in tune with the outdoors, always content to reach the summit of an arduous hike or to simply birdwatch from the kitchen window. I also write enthusiastically, penning everything from short horror, to poetry, to children's books. I'm currently in the process of illustrating and self-publishing a short story entitled "Shaking Hands with Autumn." It is aimed toward children but could (hopefully) be enjoyed by all ages! Though my hobbies are extensive, my primary passion is teaching. Before defining my desired career, all I knew was that I wanted to make a difference. Becoming an educator will grant me the opportunity to impact the lives of my students every single day. That responsibility is tremendous, slightly daunting, and my greatest motivation. I will create an environment that promotes exploration because exploration has led me to the most wonderful places imaginable. I will strive to illuminate the importance of ambition and guide coming generations to seek their own island's edge.

"Hurried footsteps bounce off shamble brick, pace a stark thud, thud, thudding in the brisk peril of sundown. Her fingertips trace along the porous grooves of crumbling mortar, calloused index keeping careful count. Sixty-three divets down, she takes a sharp turn past the rubbled churchyard. Her pupils flit to the swift pull of a curtain, the flicker of illegal flame snuffed out in a sickening tick. Sirens sound and the soles of her shoes just keep thud, thud, thudding." That excerpt is one of the many pieces I've written in an attempt to recapture the stories my grandmother, Audrey, has shared with me over the years. Audrey was thirteen, residing in the heart of London with her mother and two siblings when World War Two began. Hunger and air raids couldn't stop her from working full-time by day and attending medical school by night. The Nazis depended heavily on residential lights to survey targets and strategically deploy their explosives. Knowing this, the British banned all lights in London post-dusk. Audrey detailed the exhilarating terror she felt, sprinting blindly through the black-out, intently listening for the pitch of those dreaded whistles. In one way or another, the war would take many of her family members, neighbors, and friends. Though despite all her loss, she had developed an exuberant spirit. My grandmother went on to run multiple Bead and Breakfasts in Yorkshire, work at the British embassy in Nigeria, and finally move to America, where she bought and flipped homes. As a child, I would marvel at her recounts, wanting nothing more than to live as fully and meaningfully as she had. We would garden, bake, and draw with one another without a moment of silence between us. I had a million questions, and she had a lifetime's worth of answers. Today, I make the most of the time I have. As an aspiring horror author, poet, and musician, I'm always engaged in some way or another. I have a blog where I post my work and a social media platform for my poetry. About two years ago, I began taking online culinary classes to study plant-based cuisine. Amid that venture, I became intrigued by the agricultural distribution process and decided to join an organization, which allowed me to volunteer on organic farms across the United States. Upon returning, sunburnt and inspired by my longing for the cool air of fall, I started writing a short children's book entitled "Shaking Hands with Autumn." I'm currently finalizing my illustrations and will hopefully self-publish the book by September of 2022! Galvanized by my grandmother's entrepreneurial nature, I have become hyper-aware of the value of time. Innovation, creation, and experience are my primary motivators. If it wasn't for my various interests and pursuits, I don't believe I would have discovered my passion for Elementary Education so early on. This August, I'll begin earning my degree in teaching at Bridgewater College. Though I've settled on a career path, I will continue to follow in my grandmother's footsteps. I will create and seek opportunities wherever and whenever I choose.

Not leaving for college mid-pandemic? A sound financial decision. Deciding to instead volunteer as a farmhand for remote operations across the U.S? Questionable. I have always been a spontaneous person. My mother taught me at an early age to take every opportunity that presents itself in life. For 18 years, that conviction held steady. That is until I found myself on a farm smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, itching at the angry hives that painted my sun-fried skin, picking up pounds of rotted and bug-ridden squash. As I previously stated, this venture was a questionable decision. The first night I spent on Bio-way farm in South Carolina was memorable (to say the least). At dinner, my host handed me a map of her hundred sprawling acres. Specific fields were scribbled over with sweat-smudged ink so that only the words "Mind the..." were legible. My host warned of sun-poisoning, heatstroke, black widows, snake bites, and fire ants. I listened intently, anticipating her following plans of action in the off chance those hazardous scenarios were to unfold. My host, however, promptly took back the map and announced it was time to settle in for the night. I trudged off to bed, feeling quite in over my head. Within seven days, I'd had a close call with all of the dangers detailed over our initial dinner. I had taken to not-very jokingly referring to every meal as my "last supper." Humor had always been my failsafe, a coping mechanism that got me through the toughest of situations with a smile on my face and a lightness in my heart. It was out in that squash field, being suffocated by one-hundred and eight degrees of wet heat, that I realized humor wouldn't be enough this time around. I needed to dig deeper and search for the underlying lesson this opportunity was granting me. I stepped in a fire ant hill before I could begin brainstorming too intensely, however, so any grand realizations were put on indefinite hold. My epiphany wouldn't come for another two weeks. By that time, I had pulled weeds in the pouring rain, gathered thousands of cherry tomatoes, and discovered my minor eggplant allergy. I was cleaning garlic, immersed in a rhythm of motion when I was finally able to articulate the reason for my wild excursion. Life didn't owe me an explanation or some awe-inspiring lesson. It was my responsibility to forge meaning from the meaningless. I could no longer be a bystander of my own life. The prospect of not only gaining experiences but actively defining them was foreign. Working on Bio-way farms is my greatest achievement to date. It was a series of trials and adventures that culminated into one vital self-discovery. It is not enough to passively obtain experiences. I must actively determine and create value in the face of adversity. My time on the farm cemented my future ambition of becoming an elementary educator. I will teach my students the importance of agency in both education and daily living. After spending so many years obliviously complacent, I have a yearning to ensure that stance is not adopted by others. Though my time on Bio-way farms was taxing, it strengthened my character and secured my career path. Once my month at Bio-way farm was up, I went on to volunteer at a homestead in Albany, New York. There, I appreciated every spade-blister, bear encounter, and poison ivy rash. Not because they were particularly pleasant events, but because I could confidently define them and catalog the experience in an ever-expanding bank of knowledge.

We were stranded. And I mean thoroughly stuck in the middle of nowhere, twiddling our thumbs and standing beside an empty roadway with nothing but forest on all sides. My friend and I had parked his car in the same spot a few hours before and gone for a strenuous eleven-mile hike through one of North Carolina's many National forests. Upon our return to the parking space, we were exhausted, and the car...was nowhere in sight. Stolen or towed, it didn't matter at that point. What was relevant was the potential severity of our situation. We had drunk all our water and were easily a forty-minute drive to the nearest town. Twenty minutes of panic and service searching had ticked by before an ancient flatbed chevy came rambling down the country lane. With the way, my thumb jutted out, and the cry of relief I gave, you'd have thought I had never seen a horror film or a 70's serial killer documentary before. The truck slowed to a stop, brake pads screeching like a flock of angry crows. Which I absentmindedly noted was called a murder. A murder- oh god. Legs shaking, heart racing, I approached the rusted vehicle. The driver was a man in his mid 60's and his wife sat passenger side, a drooling pitbull dozing in her lap. I thanked them for stopping and asked to use their phone so I could dial someone who would hopefully pick us up before nightfall. They laughed. We were miles away from even the weakest cell signal. Instead, they insisted we hop in the back and ride with them to the nearest fire station where we could call for help from there. "It'll be dark before whoever's coming to get you will get here. At least this way you'll have a roof over your heads." That forty-minute car ride ended up being one of the most memorable experiences of my life. Ruth and Ray were some of the kindest people I had ever met. They lived on a small farm located two hours in the other direction and baked blackberry cobblers for church services every Sunday. People like Ruth and Ray are my greatest inspiration. Meeting new people and broadening my perspective through diverse experiences is my driving force. It is my aim to pass on my desire for adventure and learning by becoming an Elementary Educator. No, I will not be teaching kids that it's a great idea to hitch-hike with strangers on a desolate stretch of highway. But I will encourage discovery and the importance of seeking discomfort to ultimately enrich one's life. Learning encompasses more than just academic rigor. It is an endless journey that can inspirit and inspire for a lifetime.

Music is an ever-present source of inspiration and passion in my life. As a kid, I would sit and listen to my dad play electric guitar, the strings wailing out The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, and The Beatles, every note exuding the blues. My mom would drag me to bed hours past my bedtime, and there I would lay, straining to hear each reverberation still sounding from downstairs. Most of my earliest memories are inextricably entangled with Rock and Roll. The first time I heard Thunderstruck by ACDC, I was napping in the back of our beat-up 2001 Subaru, nestled in the restraints of my safety seat. The steady rhythm grew and grew, the thuds mimicking the chug of an oncoming train so absolutely that it wasn't until Brian Johnson's voice began belting that I realized the beat was spilling from the speakers. It was then that I first recognized the connection between life and music. It's tempting to view music as an escape from pervading troubles, an entity separate from the weight of reality. Music becomes everything if you only shift that perspective. Songs can survive generations and shape your worldview (or simply brighten a gloomy morning). Unsurprisingly, I now also play the guitar. Though, I would never claim to be anywhere near as skilled as my father. I mainly write blues-inspired songs in the likes of Muddy Waters, Jimmi Hendrix, The Rolling Stones, and The Doors. The piece linked below is one of the first songs I ever wrote, and it wholly represents my life-long adoration for musical legends and the permeating influence their work has had on who I am as of today. My song is called "Seeking Sinners" and is an homage to the extraordinarily talented Robert Johnson. I apologize in advance for the shotty audio quality (I don't own a proper recording device). Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it!

I am incredibly eager to start working towards my bachelor's in Elementary Education this fall term! There is, however, a looming cloud of dread shrouding the opportunity. As positive as my family and I have tried to remain, the financial burden of college has already begun to weigh on us (and the semester hasn't even begun)! Though I knowingly chose a career that is underpaid, the prospect of becoming tens of thousands of dollars in debt is still daunting. It took an immense amount of courage to finally decide to chase my passion and disregard the subsequent salary. And now I suppose it will take just as much courage to stick with it! I'm in this for the long haul, and I'm simply striving to make that haul a tad less intimidating. I have a wonderful support system, with my mum wanting to contribute in every possible way. That being said, I've not ever been incredibly comfortable with relying too heavily on another, especially if my achievements are at the expense of their well-being. My mum is my motivator, and I feel the best way to repay her for her constant encouragement is to soften the financial blow of my education. I'm relying on this scholarship (and many others) to allow both my family and myself the luxury of four years with little monetary worry.

This past summer my university plans were thoroughly derailed by Covid-19 and like many I was left reeling, wondering what to do with all the excess time. I had always been intrigued by farm life and after being stuck inside for months on end, the outdoors were more appealing than ever before. On a whim, I signed up for a program called WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms). The organization allows you to live and work on farms in the USA (and abroad when the globe isn't mid-pandemic). I farmed for three months in New York and South Carolina!