Not many teenagers know what they want to do after high school. At 17, I didn’t see this commonality among my peers. I felt I wasn’t normal because I had no idea what path I was meant to take. All I knew was that I enjoyed science and art. With that awareness in mind I chose to take AP Biology my junior year of high school with Mrs. McClintock. She was vibrant, enthusiastic, kind, and always wore a smile on her face. She came to class everyday with a burning excitement to teach. I admired her so dearly. She saw my devotion to science and offered me books, magazines, and papers to read in my free time. I read each book twice before returning them and I would talk with her after classes about how the science in the novel applied to our lessons in class. She shared colleges with me and helped me look for opportunities within the field of biology. Suddenly, I was faced with a new challenge unlike any I had experienced before. COVID 19 stuck at the end of my school year. My favorite class was stripped away from me and my interaction with her was limited to an online zoom class. I was devastated but still challenged myself to learn and grow despite the challenge. Before long my AP biology exam was upon me. I took the exam and with tears in my eyes received a failing grade. I was absolutely shattered. When COVID restrictions settled and I saw Mrs. McClintock again I told her my grade. I continued to ask her if she thought I could have a future in biology, even after my terrible performance on the exam. To my surprise, she just laughed. I looked at her shocked, unsure how to respond. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Sage, you are driven and beyond intelligent. You cannot let one grade define your future. You have all the tools you need to be successful in not only your academics but in your professional career. You are everything you need, Sage, and will be a great scientist. Continue to pursue what you love. I am very proud of you and the work you’ve done. You should be proud of what you have accomplished”. And with that tears filled my eyes. She continued to tell me the challenges she faced obtaining her biology degree. She told me about many failing grades and difficult classes. But she reminded me that she made it, despite various setbacks. She continued on after undergrad to obtain a masters in biology. She told me I was more than capable. After our long conversation I continued my day with an entirely new perspective on my life. I felt confident in myself and grateful for her effort and kind words. With time I went on to be accepted to many colleges and I chose Lycoming College to pursue a biology degree. Without my knowing, she nominated me for a $5,000 scholarship for a graduating high school senior pursuing a STEM major. At graduation I learned that I had received this scholarship. After the ceremony I ran up to her and she told me about her efforts to give me the best chance at receiving the $5,000. I hugged her and told her she was the reason I am pursuing biology and that I am eternally grateful for her wonderful teaching abilities. Her and I cried together and went our separate ways. Thanks to her, I am on the path to becoming the best scientist I can be.

As a young farm girl I grew up with animal hair constantly clinging to my clothes and dirt permanently stuck beneath my finger nails. I lived with beautiful horses, kind dogs, gentle cats, and rowdy birds. They were my best friends from the very beginning. They were silent guides that encouraged patience and compassion. As I grew, my love for animals remained. Yet, recently I questioned my devotion to these animals. My family and I would rescue horses and treat them like family; however, we continued to fund the mistreatment of cows, pigs, chickens, and fish by consuming their flesh. Why did we view their lives as less than our pets? It was a question I did not dare ask myself, for I feared I would not like the answer. But as my moral dilemma grew, I allowed myself to look further into the topic. Two years ago, I sat down heavily on my couch and watched a documentary on slaughterhouses. Terror, anger, and sadness consumed my soul. I watched as cows were strung up by their hocks, screaming for help. A large blade would surge into their throats and sever their jugular. The cow would continue to struggle as blood clouded its vision. And while it was still very much alive they would bring the knife to their belly and rip them open. Tears stung my eyes; my heart ached. How could I have contributed to this for so many years? How dare I consider myself an animal lover when I allow this to happen. That night, I sat down for my meal and stared at the seared steak before me. Nausea punched my stomach; guilt strangled my soul. It was at this moment that I saw what meat was. It was a life. A thinking, breathing being with emotions and a will to survive. It was a life taken. No more blue skies and green grass. No more gentle nudges from herd-mates. No more kindness. No more peace. I cannot, will not, promote this any longer. I will be the voice they never had. Since that day, I have been vegan. I have adjusted my entire lifestyle for them, not for me. I am beyond passionate about animal advocacy. I frequently advocate for veganism, verbally and on social media platforms. No animal on this planet deserves that kind of suffering. Every living being deserves a happy and complete life. They are no different than us; we all want to live and be loved. Their lives are in our hands; as long as I live and breathe on this earth- I will stand for their rights. And I pray that my voice is loud enough to be heard by others. Their entire existence rests on our shoulders. We have a choice: hold the knife or let it go.

My battle with my mind surges in the darkness of night. Nightmares consume my head in a blackened swarm of fear. Like an incurable disease it seeps into my heart and tugs greedily at my soul. My breath quickens; sweat trickles down my back. Terror forces tears down my cheeks as a gasp for air. And in one sudden swoop, reality rips me back to my body. The effort of calming myself again exhausts me. My muscles ache, and I can taste the salt of my tears. I sit up and pull my damp hair from my face. I know deep to my core that I cannot keep suffering this way. I need help. I need to find harmony with my mind once more. At 16 I experienced a traumatic event that led to these devastating nightmares. I chose not to ask for help for fear of rejection and judgment. When I started my first year of college, I experienced a sudden spike in anxiety attacks and nightmares. My stress was high from trying to do well in school, work my job, find a way to pay for college and adjust to a new social environment. I began denying myself mental breaks, and forcing my emotions off to the side. Consequently, this led to a mental breakdown. I realized my mind needed attention, and I had to make a change. I sought guidance from the school counselor; she inspired me to educate myself on healthy habits to help ease my trauma-ridden mind. In my journey, I learned that the little things make a difference. Inhale and exhale. Simple and rewarding. I learned to acknowledge when my mind started succumbing to stress or anxiety. I would pause and inhale for four seconds, then exhale for four seconds and repeat. The deep breaths allowed me to find balance and focus. I would use this same technique before bed to settle my brain. Doing this eased the severity of my nightmares. It allowed me to sleep longer and more peacefully. I also found comfort in coffee. Mornings after nightmares, it was a struggle to calm myself. My dreams would leave me rattled and throw off my entire day. But I found that when I wake up terrified from a dream, coffee helps soothe me. I go downstairs, and pour a hot cup of coffee into my favorite mug. I put in my creamer and travel back up the stairs to my room. Every morning I spend a half-hour sitting in my pajamas sipping the warm liquid. I imagine it washing away all of my fear and sadness and allowing space in my mind for excitement and joy. And when the last drop is gone, I feel ready to face the world and leave my past where it belongs. In my journey, I have learned that healing is self-made, crafted by our interests and personal needs. Mental health is about taking everything in stride. Peace comes with time; balance comes with consistent work. And gratitude for the little things makes the good and the bad all worthwhile.

Vibrant, unique and beautiful, The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh holds a very special place in my heart. Long before my first memory, a print of that painting would sit above my crib. As time passed, the painting remained on my walls overseeing my entire childhood. My young, curious, blue eyes would watch the colors dance within a gray wooden frame every night. My imagination would soar with the pale and royal blue sky as it traced burning stars and a quiet town. Captivation would take a tight hold on my mind as I admired an enchanting world through the eyes of an artist who I will never know. Life pressed on, marching me into my teenage years. Here, in the heart of New York City, I stand before the original work of art. Stillness consumes me as complete wonder arrests my muscles. My eyes pursue each and every stroke with slow attentiveness. I trail the untold story of beauty, sorrow, perception, and loss all etched in a language only the artist can truly comprehend. Gently, I caress the silence and awe deep within my heart. It is at this moment that my connection to The Starry Night becomes me. My blood runs blue and yellow stars dance in my eyes. My entire being floats with the sky and the tranquility runs straight to my core. My love for this painting roots deep in my soul and I will always carry its profound influence.

What do I value most in myself? While I sit before my computer I am completely drawn blank. Who am I? I feel a sudden rise of irritation as I ponder. My fingertips rest on the white keys as my brow furrows. I begin to list off every quality of myself and my frustration swells. I slam my computer shut and rest my head on the table. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I couldn't answer this question from my perspective, so as I sit I take a moment to step outside myself. Who am I from the eyes of onlookers? I watch my memories as an outsider and silently observe. I study my quiet demeanor and gentle nature. I see my sympathy for others and recognize my ability to listen and understand. But as I survey my experiences I notice my flaws. I struggle to communicate my feelings, and I avoid conflict even when it is needed. I do not have an easy time asking for help even when it is necessary. Each memory I recall is a beautiful blend of my faults and strengths. I begin to learn more about myself and see parts of me I have never chosen to acknowledge. From this serene place, I can see who I am. I am not one quality but a collection of many individually shaped moments. My value comes not only from my kindness or independence but also from my imperfections. My compassion lends a helping hand to others, but my caution reminds me when to step back and say no to those who seek to exploit my willingness. My open-mindedness allows permeability for new perspectives, but my slight stubbornness provides a solid wall for my beliefs to lean against. My flaws exist so I can recognize my strengths, and without both complementing one another I lack completeness. So as I step back into my body and my personal perspective I realize I cannot answer this question with one simple characteristic. In reality, true self-value comes from acceptance and recognition that all of your qualities serve a purpose. Every part and piece of my personality helps me find my way through life. Progress is only possible with my flaws and strengths working together. I am a beautiful, complex blend of experience-shaped characteristics and have yet to grow and change more. So what do I value in myself? I value me, all of me.

Not many little girls dream about dinosaurs and play with dinosaur toys, but I guess you could say I was slightly outside the box. As a kid, I grew up right next to a dinosaur museum. My first time there, I stood before a massive Tyrannosaurus rex mural and felt my whole world change. Then, every year for my birthday, I would beg my parents to take me to the museum. I would spend hours reading about each dinosaur over and over again. I would watch through a great big glass window as a scientist would carefully chip away at a beautifully aged fossil. I would point and say, "I wanna do that. I'm going to be a paleontologist". My parents would raise their eyebrows, then shrug their shoulders. They always assumed it would be a phase. But as I grew, so did my fascination, and I became particularly interested in paleoart. From the time I was young, I would look at a dinosaur skull and seek to reconstruct an image of what I thought it may have looked like. Even as an 18-year-old girl, I still go against social norms and sketch prehistoric art. I want to create art that deeply captivates another little kid someday, just as it did for me. I want to encourage little girls and boys to step outside society's box and do what truly makes them happy. I may not be able to change the entire world with my art, but I can enchant the mind of a young kid and change their world. That is more than enough for me.

Gardening is a fantastic way to give back to the earth and connect to nature. It brings me so much peace and joy to watch little green organisms emerge from the dark soil. It is equally beautiful and fascinating, but like all exquisite processes there are obstacles to face. One such struggle to maintaining a healthy, productive garden is destruction to the plants. For example, chickens provide a helping hand but also have the potential to obliterate young plants. My chickens are wonderful birds that never fail to remove unwanted insects that can plague a garden. Yet, chickens are diggers and love seeds and leaves as well as pesky insects. Many times I have stepped off my front porch and raced down the hill yelling at the chickens to get out of the garden. When I would reach the beds I would be faced with massive craters in the soil. Small helpless plants would be uprooted and scattered across the dirt. It always hurt my heart seeing all the tiny seedlings laying on their sides unable to be saved. So here I was faced with a dilemma: Do I continue to allow the chickens to have access to the plants or do I keep them out? I was grateful for the chickens ability to remove harmful insects; however, they were killing more plants then they would save. Therefore, I came up with a plan. My father helped me build a fence that contained wire with gaps in it. The gaps were too small for the chickens to squeeze through, but large enough they could poke their heads into the garden and snag unwanted visitors. By keeping the chickens from accessing the frail seedlings, the plants could now have the time they needed to grow and develop. And once the plants got large enough they would reach their stems through the wire and expose harmful insects to the hungry chickens. The chickens would even get lucky enough to dine on a fallen rotten tomato or an unlucky worm that crawled too close to the edge of the garden bed. After my father and I made this change the garden flourished. We had more seedlings then ever become full grown plants. By compromising with the chickens and still allowing them some access to the garden, the produce remained healthy and relatively untouched by insects. I could finally watch all the seeds I planted grow to fill the garden beds with a lush forest of green highlighted by vibrant tomatoes and pumpkins. I gave my plants a safe place to thrive and my plants gave back to the environment by feeding my chickens, the microorganisms, the atmosphere, and me.

Although I look up to many scientists, Dr. Sharon Moalem earns my highest level of respect and admiration for his achievements. I read his novel, “Survival of the Sickest”, and it inspired me to pursue biology as a career. It brought about a sense of recognition that everything is connected and that to find answers we must look deeper into evolution. Dr. Moalem’s ideas set the stage for my ever growing desire to become a scientist.

To me, art is a universal language. Being an artist means we have an obligation to share our experiences and to connect people to others and the world around us. For me personally, I am driven to express the delicate beauty of nature. In a world that is threatened by over development and climate change I hope to bring recognition to how precious our planet is. The environmental problems that all of us experience connects me to the idea that change is needed. Something as simple as photograph or a painting has the power to tell a story that every continent has the capability of understanding. Artwork has the ability to express emotions that have the power to alter someone’s way of thinking. This wonderful gift could be enough to end the trade on ivory or to promote the use of sustainable goods. Art could encourage others to research or learn about how to help our planet and those that live on it. In many cases, art can speak to our emotions and allow us to feel love, sadness, acceptance, frustration, joy, curiosity, and so much more. And although a painter or sculptor may be native to one language, any one can hear his/her message. That is the beauty and elegance of a simple, yet complicated gift of creativity an artist possesses. As for me, I find my drive in photography, sketching, and painting. I plan to use my art to change minds and connect people not only to each other, but to the earth. I want to bring awareness to our strengths and weaknesses we have as humans. I aim to share the consequences of our actions, whether it be positive or negative. I want to photograph species on the brink of extinction, so that future generations will know what their parents and grandparents fought so hard to protect. I also hope to create photographs and paintings that could link our compassionate minds with the idea that our planet needs saving, for the sake of all of us. My artwork can depict the reality of our situation and what is needed for change. And others can take this inspiration out into the world and make a difference. I want to speak to the hearts of my on lookers and to encourage them restore balance to their lives and our environment. I aim for my artwork to be the reason for someone to travel a different path.

Prior to these photos I was very injured after getting bucked off my horse. Although I don’t remember much of what happened after I hit the ground, I knew that I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to build up the courage to ride again. But my love for my horse and devotion to my sport, lead me to regain my strength and confidence to get get back in the saddle. And since then, I have kept my eyes ahead and a humble grasp upon the reins.

As a student, I have recognized the constant conflict that I face concerning my mental health on a daily basis. I am heavily devoted to developing my knowledge to ensure that I receive the best education for my future career. But with this devotion comes major draw backs. To begin, life as a hard working student doesn’t leave much room for a social life. Through my years in high school I began to find myself drawing away from friends to pursue my education. As I drew further away my circle of friends decreased rapidly and I found myself experiencing a new form of anxiety. Not only was I stressed about my grades but I began to be overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness. I felt left out and excluded and I sank into a constant feeling of sadness. I wanted to feel accepted but the more worried I got, the more I pushed away. For the first time in my life I fought my family and labeled them as my enemy. I took my frustration and anger out on my loved ones because I felt that they didn’t understand and couldn’t help me. The more they tried to help the meaner and angrier I got. I would feel terrible after a fight and I would be sorry for the things I said but I didn’t know how to stop. I would fight them because it was easier then dealing with what was inside of me. I didn’t yet recognize this of course, but I did recognize the fact that I was lost and needed a way out. As the battle raged on inside me, my friends disappeared one by one. My sister drew away from me and my parents struggled to handle my aggression. My mind felt as though it was destroying me. My actions exiled me and the world seemed to look emptier. I lost my interest in learning new things. My hope to go to college and become a scientist seemed pointless. I lost my interest in art, riding my horse, and even socializing. The clouds, trees, and sun rising no longer fascinated me. The changing seasons seemed less beautiful. I found myself in a black tunnel, with no clear way out. Finally my endless searching, lead me to a glimmer of hope. I recognized all those people who stuck by me, even though I had given them no reason too. I began to see their love and devotion. I could see their strength and their willingness to help. I could see their concern and worry. I knew I had to make a change. With the help of my family and few remaining friends I was able to open my heart. I let the tears of pain roll down my cheek and I finally allowed someone to be there to catch them. Suppressed anxiety and stress raced through my body and was released in my cries for help. I fell weak and exhausted into the arms of those I love and I was cradled in support and kindness. I was guided to healthier strategies to deal with my stress. I learned to let it move through me and to accept it and let it pass. I now remind myself what is important and what is worth worrying about. I take things in stride and when my mind needs a break, I am willing to give it time to rest. My emotions are no longer suppressed into a ticking time bomb of pain. Instead, I speak what needs to be spoken and I release my emotions with tranquility and understanding. And on this journey I have encountered an open minded acceptance of those struggling. I have learned to be patient and present while they overcome their own inner battles.