Car rides to and from school were always eventful. I was raised by a mom who taught me that leadership was non-negotiable. She would turn our twenty-minute commute into a leadership academy on wheels. My mom would make my sisters and I listen to TED Talks and “Minutes with (John) Maxwell” podcasts and she would just smile as we whined and rolled our eyes from the backseat. As I grew older, she began to bring home books written by the very same presenters that we listened to during our car rides. At the time, I didn’t understand why, but eventually, I began to connect the dots as my real-world scenarios became opportunities to turn these leadership lessons into life hacks. John Maxwell’s leadership books, including the 21 Laws Irrefutable of Leadership, have fueled my ambition and taught me the importance of “raising my lid” (Law #1). Another favorite is the 15 Invaluable Laws of Growth in which Maxwell writes about the importance of fostering curiosity. He explains, “The single greatest difference between curious, growing people and those who aren’t is the belief that they can learn, grow and change.” I couldn’t agree more! I have seen this in my own life and can look back and clearly identify some leadership milemarkers. As a young child, I was told daily by my mom that I was a leader and I believed it! As I reflect on the last decade, I can see the progression. I grew from an elementary school news anchor who reported on the lunch menu into an 8th-grade class president. I progressed from being a high school intern who organized backpack drives into an undergraduate studying Organizational Leadership as a career. I see myself as a poster child to back Maxwell’s claim. Growing up as a pastor’s kid in a household where leadership was non-negotiable, it could be said that my home ran on Jesus and John Maxwell. I found a heart for serving others within the pages of my Bible and found strategies for leading others through the books in Maxwell’s collection. My goal is to find an intersection where these two influential voices meet and make a career out of it. I have a dream of leading people through my own non-profit organization that will serve to connect the “haves” with the “have-nots”. During my senior year, I served as a missions intern at my church working with local ministry partners. There, I became a collector of stories. With behind-the-scenes access, I have had the opportunity to see the paper trail from generous benefactors to unsuspecting single parents and families in need. I’ve seen the life change that occurs when people in positions of power are strategically connected with the powerless through the help of non-profit organizations. These experiences have taught me that my leadership abilities can serve a greater purpose in the non-profit sector. As I work towards my degree, is my ultimate goal to start an organization that allows me to do this every day. Ken Robinson, author and viral TED Talk presenter, writes in his book, The Element: How Finding Passion Changes Everything, that the Element is the meeting point between natural aptitude and personal passion. It’s the place where the things we love to do and the things we’re good at come together. As I look ahead, I see opportunities to pursue my Element at Southeastern University and I plan to intentionally follow the next steps to where my goals and giftings lead me.

The quality I value most in myself is my composure under pressure. In 2020, my father won a hard-fought battle with esophageal cancer. During that season, I stepped up into a parental role at home to care for my siblings as my mom shuttled my father to chemo. Throughout our cancer journey, I held it together but kept silent as I struggled with my own health issues. I presumed that compared to cancer, nothing seemed significant. I live with Autoimmune Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, exacerbated by fibromyalgia, and hypothalamic adrenal insufficiency. This trifecta causes debilitating fatigue and chronic migraines, symptoms I downplayed at home. But in time, the effects began to show as my manageable condition was no longer being managed. In truth, I was surprised by how quickly things changed. One week I was class vice president, honor roll scholar, and high school socialite at Friday night football games; the next week, I couldn’t get out of bed. After a week at the Children’s Hospital, doctors gave me two options: hospital homebound classes or more time in the hospital. My health battle has earned me a strong fighter’s spirit that helps me maintain a well-composed approach to difficult times. Admittedly, my senior year looks a bit unconventional and quite different than what I hoped for. Yet, I celebrate the positives rather than sulk in my circumstances. I now get to spend time with my dad (who works from home) and my online coursework offers flexibility to attend medical appointments. My flexible school schedule even allows me to take a midday college class on the beautiful campus of Southeastern University, where I will attend in the fall to study Organizational Leadership. I am still the same go-getter girl I was before, just with a little more grit. I take honors classes, I stay engaged in my community, and I still remain a leader among leaders. In May, I will have earned every single step I’ll take as I walk across the stage with my peers, graduating with honors. One day I’ll be a working professional living with my autoimmune disease and will need to discern how to ration my energy each day. As a Type A perfectionist, this has been a hard skill to learn. I’ve had to become selective on who gets my waking minutes. I practice choosing my “BEST YES” daily, while remaining calm when I don’t accomplish every item on my to-do list. Unlike most frenzied seniors who are collecting gold stars to impress admissions counselors, I see things differently. Those with autoimmune have a unique perspective on priorities. I’ve assessed that seeking opportunities to learn from gifted adult leaders who are committed to serving others pays better dividends than a jam-packed social calendar. I ask myself, “If I have limited hours to give, where can I have the greatest impact?” I serve at missions outreach events for my church, which reminds me that suffering is a relative word. I lead on three executive boards for local non-profit organizations, among them is UthMpact, an organization that promotes mental health initiatives and substance-free living for students. Being a senior is hard enough, even without the challenges of autoimmune disease. But I’ve persevered through the fire and I’ve come out refined. Composure is hard to teach and not always a fun skill to practice in real-world settings. But when “the going gets tough” and things start to fall apart, I’ve learned that few people are able to stay calm in crisis and for this reason, this quality will prove to be an invaluable asset in my next season of life.

In 2020, my father won a hard-fought battle with esophageal cancer. During that season, I stepped into a parental role at home to care for my siblings as my mom shuttled my father to chemo. Throughout our cancer journey, I kept silent as I struggled with my own health issues. I presumed that compared to cancer, nothing seemed significant. I live with the effects of Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, exacerbated by fibromyalgia, and hypothalamic adrenal insufficiency. This trifecta causes debilitating fatigue and chronic migraines, symptoms I downplayed as to not add to stress at home. But in time, the effects of my downward spiral began to show. My manageable condition was no longer being managed. In truth, I was caught off guard by how quickly things changed. One week I was class vice president, honor roll scholar, and high school socialite at Friday night football games; the next week, I couldn’t get out of bed by myself. After a week at the Children’s Hospital, doctors gave me two options: hospital homebound classes or more time in the hospital. My health battle has taught me to reframe life’s challenges and view them as strengths. I’ve gained a strong fighter’s spirit and rather than pouting about my circumstance, I celebrate the positives. Admittedly, my senior year looks a bit unconventional and quite different than what I hoped for. However, I now get to spend time with my dad (who works from home) and my online coursework offers flexibility to attend medical appointments. My flexible school schedule even allows me to take a midday college class on the beautiful campus of Southeastern University, where I will attend in the fall to study Organizational Leadership. I am still the same go-getter girl I was before, just with a little more grit. I take honors classes, I stay engaged in my community, and I still remain a leader among leaders. In May, I will have earned every single step I’ll take as I walk across the stage with my peers, graduating with honors. One lesson I’ve learned has been the fine art of prioritization. As humbling as it was, I’ve learned I can’t do everything, so I’m selective on what gets my “YES” these days. One day I’ll be a working professional living with my disease and will need to discern how to ration my energy each day. Until then, I practice choosing my “BEST YES” each day. Unlike most frenzied seniors who are collecting gold stars to impress admissions counselors, I see things differently. Those with autoimmune have a unique perspective on priorities. I’ve assessed that seeking opportunities to learn from gifted adult leaders who are committed to serving others pays better dividends than a jam-packed social calendar. I ask myself, “If I have limited hours to give, where can I have the greatest impact?” I serve at missions outreach events for my church, which reminds me that suffering is a relative word. I lead on three executive boards for local non-profit organizations, among them is UthMpact, an organization that promotes mental health initiatives and substance-free living for students. As a self-proclaimed fashionista, I’m passionate about serving as Chairperson for our local Project Prom, a program that repurposes gowns for teen girls in need. After being selected for the State Honor Choir, my passion for choral music proved helpful when I was later invited to serve as the Assistant Director for our children’s choir at church. In summary, I’ve been successful at combining my strengths, my passions, and my accolades in God-honoring ways so that I may maintain focus on serving others, and not my disease.