As the sun sets on the final day before senior year starts, I back out of the pick-up parking spot. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I spot my four younger siblings, Lily, Avery, Drake, and Noelle, smiling, laughing, diving into their fries, and sharing their aspirations for the upcoming school year. I have already advised Noelle on her first day of school outfit and encouraged Lily to make new friends after her best friend moved away. And that was merely five minutes of my responsibilities as the oldest child. Being the oldest of five–and the only driver of the bunch– is not a typical job. Beyond serving as a third parent, shuttling your sisters to practice and your brother to his friend’s house and basketball, it provides a unique perspective that feels like half-mentor, half-sister. I listen to Avery rant about science homework while reminding Drake that he must find his shoes or else he will be late again. Life as the oldest sibling combines significant responsibilities while demanding respect, kindness, and sympathy towards your brother and sisters. When they get in trouble, I advise them. When my parents are at work, I prepare meals for them. When they need help with homework, I study with them. Even as I wrote this, Avery barged into my room to ask if I would watch a movie with her, and, per usual, Lily “borrowed” my favorite sunglasses without asking for permission. I have learned many life lessons through my roles as mentor, sister, quasi-parent and friend, but, most importantly, being the big sister has taught me how to listen attentively to both sides of an argument and use my position to influence positive outcomes, which is what I fully intend to do as I join a new community in college at the University of Texas at Austin. For example, through working to promote civics education in Austin public schools, I can implement my leadership and listening skills to help young students have civil debates and promote advocacy skills while maintaining mutual respect. Just as I have mediated numerous conflicts between my siblings, I will teach students how to remain educated, informed, and compassionate without compromising their beliefs. Finally, my experience as an older sister and as a peer mentor for middle schoolers will aid me in giving back to the Austin community as I focus on better understanding the children I hope to help through promoting civics experience as well as building a positive relationship with them and helping them outside of an academic setting in their friendships and interactions with the world. I hope to inspire every child I meet through those programs and continue to rely on my background as a mentor, sister, quasi-parent, and friend to make my new college community the best it can be.

We sat motionless, hands folded in our laps, raised brows and pursed lips molded our confused and critical expressions as we waited in a teacher’s office to be scolded. Next to us were our innocent posters detailing the accepted donations for our period products drive complete with cute hand-drawn pads and tampons. “Too gory” the teacher exclaimed, motioning at the bright red rim lining our drawn tampons. “You cannot have that red color on the posters; it looks unhygienic” he concluded. “But it is for–” started our Girl Up club president, but her protest was halted with a flick of his hand towards the door. Our club stumbled out, defeated as we removed the “gory” and “unhygienic” red posters from the halls and replaced them with insipid black Arial font on white background signs: “Please Place Your Donated Period Products in This Box. Thank You.” Eyes cast down; the pitiful, defeated looks on my fellow club members' faces radiated within me and motivated me to confront why our posters had been rejected and our protests dismissed. Our club inherently understood that the teacher who informed us that red was “too gory” was egregiously wrong; however, there was no infrastructure or education to prevent the reinforcement of the exact stigmatization the teacher inflicted. This realization prompted me to look beyond this specific instance towards the more pervasive problem of the inherent societal stigmatization of periods. Looking back, if only that teacher had been required in school to learn about periods and other stereotypical “female” issues like abortion access or birth control he would be a more understanding and empathetic human being and would never approach periods in an unproductive and discouraging manner. As a result of this realization, I have chosen to obtain a degree in political science and minor in women and gender studies as I aspire to become a lobbyist advocating for gender equality. I hope to recollect and reflect on my high school experiences fighting against period stigmatization to advocate for mandating free period products in middle and high schools as well as education about menstruation for everyone, not just girls. I would hope to eliminate some of the stigmatization surrounding periods and create a positive characterization of them that recognizes periods as a natural part of life, so that next time someone wants to host a period products drive, the event will be celebrated positively with red period posters.