I used to stare at the fluorescent lights above the hospital bed and daydream of owning my own little shop that sells my family's secret tinctures, teas, and soothing ointments Lupus runs abundantly in Native American women. Not including the national average of statistics for the Native American population of rape, murder, alcoholism, drug addiction, and suicide being the highest in the country, the odds were stacked even before I was born. My name is Ruthann Perrot, and I identify as a Prairie Band Potawatomi from the motherland in Wisconsin, we moved so much in my adolescence I don't have a "hometown" to list. I grew up with my dad and an older sister since my mother had abandoned us when I was 4 years old. My father had worked a lot, so my grandmother and aunties had stepped into our lives in a combined motherly role. We knew from young ages lupus had affected almost every woman in our huge, olive-skinned family, along with diabetes and alcoholism sadly. I watched my grandmother struggle with the effects of an aging body that was pledged with the butterfly kiss of lupus across her cheeks when it would flare causing her muscle aches, stomach ulcers, and osteoporosis made worse because of the type of lupus she had come to develop throughout life affecting the density of the bones. By 19, I had the same strawberry-colored, butterfly wings across my nose and arched cheekbones. And by 25 the same muscle aches and dizzy spells caused me to sit down to take moments of silence for catching run-away breaths. I have now been officially diagnosed with Lupus at age 31 but have not yet sought treatment due to the inability of affordability for my insurance coverage. This diagnosis has shaped me into the strong-willed woman I am today, and I consider myself lucky to grow up surrounded by individuals that offered home remedies, with medicine that grew in the backyard, and free-range deer (grocery store chicken) recipes to soothe an aching body because we were too poor to afford western medicine. Routines that I still use today, honey and milk thistle for coughs, bear grease for aches, and a warm cup of dandelion root to relieve an achy body. Forged by nature, and nurtured by love. I plan to use the degree and education I receive through my courses to aid with my goals of opening a holistic, local, and affordable shop that is dedicated to the old ways of my people and their recipes passed down from generation to generation. The rising cost of medication and treatments in this day and age along with the dwindling coverage provided by insurance and health care providers is a helpless feeling, that I know many individuals in my and my family's position share. I want to teach myself constructive business strategies and possess successful knowledge to maintain and operate a storefront that I can use to build a healthy brand. Have you ever wanted to go to a local pharmacy and not worry about the cost of your medication? Well, I have, and I've had to also watch my grandmother count pennies to pay for a pill that offered no relief. This autoimmune disease has molded me into a compassionate and passionate woman with the belief of teaching others how to manage a debilitating disease that simply picks you by running in a family or a combination of just the right DNA. And when I look at fluorescent lights, I dare to dream.

I used to stare at the fluorescent light above my bunk in cell A2 and pretend it was a stage spotlight. Crowds cheered as I crossed the stage to accept my degree, with a feather in my cap and my buckskin moccasins gleaming. I had gotten myself into so much trouble in the five years that I had decided my dreams were simply, unattainable. People that looked like me, and came from the same reservations I had, never quite made it very far. Not including the national average of statistics for the Native American population of rape, murder, alcoholism, and drug addiction, being the highest in the country, the odds were stacked even before I was born. My name is Ruthann Perrot, and I identify as a Prairie Band Potawatomi from the motherland in Wisconsin, we moved so much in my adolescence I don't have a "hometown" to list. I grew up in an unstable household with my dad and an older sister. My mother had abandoned us when I was 4 years old, and I had been in and out of foster homes, and close family ties since before I could remember. But growing up wasn't all bad, we had a loving father, and now that I am a mother myself, I can fully grasp how much my father had to sacrifice to give us a roof over our heads. Despite all the trauma we endured, he sacrificed so we could at least endure it together. By 16, I had severe alcohol and drug problem, and by 26 I had 2 babies and was caught in an abusive relationship that meant fleeing by crossing the entire United States to escape, with nothing but a suitcase and two car seats. Once we reached our new home, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and dug my heels into the ground. And every time I felt my weaknesses pull me onto my old, withered couch, with the worn-out matching love seat I had attained from my local food pantry, I looked at my precious little, brown-eyed children and dug my heels in even more. Nothing will stop me. I am writing this essay to identify and explain my reasoning for the plan of action I have in giving back to my community and how I have fought to overcome adversity my entire life. Currently, I am enrolled in a Business Management associate degree. When I graduate, my first step is applying to open a halfway house for other native American women coming out of prison/jail institutions. I am hoping to accomplish this dream by teaming with other philanthropic organizations to work with people by helping with completing school, drug treatment, or trauma counseling, foster placement, and parenting awareness. I believe achieving more, comes with the education of self, and opportunities to help people do better by keeping them out of jail and prison, not just setting them free with no resources. This past May 2021 was the sixth year I could celebrate my recovery. I have a beautiful three-bedroom home with a two-car garage and a full-time remote customer service position for a large-name company. But most importantly my kids are happy and healthy. And I am also in a healthy relationship with a loving, patient man that loves me and am now adding the accomplishment of graduating with an Associate of Business in 2023 to my list of dreams. I want to give others the same opportunities given to me by individuals who wanted to help. I just threw out the old, withered matching couch and loveseat last summer, and I will never look at a damn fluorescent light the same way again.

I used to stare at the fluorescent light above my bunk in cell A2 and pretend it was a stage spotlight. Crowds cheered as I crossed the stage to accept my degree, with a feather in my cap and my buckskin moccasins gleaming. I had gotten myself into so much trouble in the five years that I had decided my dreams were simply, unattainable. People that looked like me, and came from the same reservations I had, never quite made it very far. Not including the national average of statistics for the Native American population of rape, murder, alcoholism, and drug addiction, being the highest in the country, the odds were stacked even before I was born. My name is Ruthann Perrot, and I identify as a Prairie Band Potawatomi from the motherland in Wisconsin, we moved so much in my adolescence I don't have a "hometown" to list. I grew up in an unstable household with my dad and an older sister. My mother was incarcerated when I was 4 years old, and I had been in and out of foster homes, and close family ties since before I could remember. But growing up wasn't all bad, we had a loving father, and now that I am a mother myself, I can fully grasp how much my father had to sacrifice to give us a roof over our heads. Despite all the trauma we endured, he sacrificed so we could at least endure it together. By 16, I had severe alcohol and drug problem, and by 26 I had 2 babies and was caught in an abusive relationship that meant fleeing by crossing the entire United States to escape, with nothing but a suitcase and two car seats. Once we reached our new home, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and dug my heels into the ground. And every time I felt my weaknesses pull me onto my old, withered couch, with the worn-out matching love seat I had attained from my local food pantry, I looked at my precious little, brown-eyed children and dug my heels in even more. Nothing will stop me. I am writing this essay to identify and explain my reasoning for the plan of action I have in giving back to my community and how I have fought to overcome adversity my entire life. Currently, I am enrolled in a Business Management associate degree. When I graduate, my first step is applying to open a halfway house for other native American women coming out of prison/jail institutions. I am hoping to accomplish this dream by teaming with other philanthropic organizations to work with people by helping with completing school, drug treatment, or trauma counseling, foster placement, and parenting awareness. I believe achieving more, comes with the education of self, and opportunities to help people do better by keeping them out of jail and prison, not just setting them free with no resources. This past May 2021 was the sixth year I could celebrate my recovery. I have a beautiful three-bedroom home with a two-car garage and a full-time remote customer service position for a large-name company. But most importantly my kids are happy and healthy. And I am also in a healthy relationship with a loving, patient man that loves me and am now adding the accomplishment of graduating with an Associate of Business in 2023 to my list of dreams. I want to give others the same opportunities given to me by individuals who wanted to help. I just threw out the old, withered matching couch and loveseat last summer, and I will never look at a damn fluorescent light the same way again.

I used to stare at the fluorescent light above my bunk in cell A2 and pretend it was a stage spotlight. Crowds cheered as I crossed the stage to accept my degree, with a feather in my cap and my buckskin moccasins gleaming. I had gotten myself into so much trouble in the five years that I had decided my dreams were simply, unattainable. People that looked like me, and came from the same reservations I had, never quite made it very far. Not including the national average of statistics for the Native American population of rape, murder, alcoholism, and drug addiction, being the highest in the country, the odds were stacked even before I was born. My name is Ruthann Perrot, and I identify as a Prairie Band Potawatomi from the motherland in Wisconsin, we moved so much in my adolescence I don't have a "hometown" to list. I grew up in an unstable household with my dad and an older sister. My mother had abandoned us when I was 4 years old, and I had been in and out of foster homes, and close family ties since before I could remember. But growing up wasn't all bad, we had a loving father, and now that I am a mother myself, I can fully grasp how much my father had to sacrifice to give us a roof over our heads. Despite all the trauma we endured, he sacrificed so we could at least endure it together. By 16, I had severe alcohol and drug problem, and by 26 I had 2 babies and was caught in an abusive relationship that meant fleeing by crossing the entire United States to escape, with nothing but a suitcase and two car seats. Once we reached our new home, I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and dug my heels into the ground. And every time I felt my weaknesses pull me onto my old, withered couch, with the worn-out matching love seat I had attained from my local food pantry, I looked at my precious little, brown-eyed children and dug my heels in even more. Nothing will stop me. I am writing this essay to identify and explain my reasoning for the plan of action I have in giving back to my community and how I have fought to overcome adversity my entire life. Currently, I am enrolled in a Business Management associate degree. When I graduate, my first step is applying to open a halfway house for other native American women coming out of prison/jail institutions. I am hoping to accomplish this dream by teaming with other philanthropic organizations to work with people by helping with completing school, drug treatment, or trauma counseling, foster placement, and parenting awareness. I believe achieving more, comes with the education of self, and opportunities to help people do better by keeping them out of jail and prison, not just setting them free with no resources. This was the sixth year I could celebrate my recovery. I have a beautiful home and a full-time remote customer service position for a large-name company. Most importantly my kids are happy and healthy. And I'm in a healthy relationship with a loving, patient man that loves me and am now adding the accomplishment of graduating with an Associate of Business in 2023 to my list of dreams. I want to give others the same opportunities given to me by individuals who wanted to help. I just threw out the matching couch and loveseat last summer, and I will never look at a damn fluorescent light the same way again.