While I was a high school student, my family and I faced homelessness. I have always had mental health struggles, but becoming a homeless student threw me into a pit of severe depression, anxiety, and paranoia that lasted with me the whole two years I was homeless. During this struggle, the shelter I was in offered little to no mental health services to me, and did not direct me to anyone that could help me. I saw this struggle in many others around me in the shelter, and even heard personal stories from many people about their struggles with anxiety and depression while facing homelessness, as well as individuals who were facing more severe issues like schizophrenia or bipolar while having no access to medication or therapy. I was lucky enough to be accepted into University which got me out of homeless, hopefully permanently. Now that I am in a position of privilege, I use my time to give back to the homeless community by giving help in all the ways that I lacked while in homelessness. I am currently a staff member in The Backpack Project of Athens, who gives necessities and resources to the homeless community within Athens, GA. As a new staff member, I am beginning to implement more partnerships with clinics that will give cheap/free mental health services to the community, and am helping disperse these resources to the homeless community. I am also amplifying the mental health struggles to the students and faculty at UGA in hope that others will be inspired to follow in my footsteps and donate their time to help homeless individuals struggling in the same way I did. In the future, I hope that I am one day fortunate enough to complete medical school and eventually be able to deliver free/low cost mental health services to the homeless community myself, as I think this would be the most fulfilling and full circle career I could have.

I am not who most people envision when they think of the word "homeless", but those people would be wrong. During the end of my high school career, my family and I became part of the half a million people in the United States who are homeless. My family was evicted from our home in my Junior year. My mother is a single and disabled mother who was trying to provide for two kids without any support. She not only faced a lack of support from family and friends, but mostly from the governmental programs like childcare and other services she needed most, which is what ultimately led us to join the ever growing population of homeless citizens. We faced what I like to call "silent homelessness". The only people around me that really knew for a while were my closest friends. Every time I would tell someone, I would more often than not hear a remark about how they could never tell or that they did not believe me. My mother faced the same experience when disclosing to others. For awhile, part of me felt relieved that others could not tell. Eventually, I realized that facing silent homelessness was taking a much larger toll on me than I assumed. I faced severe depression, anxiety and paranoia in the shelter I resided in. I eventually discontinued going to school in person, opting to take only my necessary credits online in order to graduate. With the pressure I felt to keep homelessness a secret from others, I had nobody to open up to and suffered severely because of it. The more time I spent within the shelter, the more I realized that I was not the only person facing similar struggles. Many others I got to know in the shelter spoke of similar experiences of severe anxiety and depression, as well as many others facing chronic mental conditions like bipolar and schizophrenia. Within the shelter, residents received little to no mental health support, especially since most of us had no insurance and couldn't afford the expenses of weekly therapy sessions or psychiatric medications. This experience was one that inspired me to have a passion for helping others facing homelessness. I know first account the dire lack of mental health and overall healthcare services in our country. I was lucky enough to gain the opportunity to go away to college, and I knew I could use this opportunity in no other way but to give back to the homeless community. I aspire to become a psychiatrist that will one day be fortunate enough to give low cost services to the homeless community and provide them with care that every human deserves. Currently, I work with The Backpack Project of Athens, a nonprofit that aids the homeless community of Athens, GA by delivering essential goods/ food and providing access to caseworkers, shelters, and other resources. I am working on putting out resources to free and low cost mental health services, and am amplifying the mental health struggles of the homeless community to students and faculty on UGA's campus. The most rewarding experience that has helped me overcome my own mental health struggles from homelessness was gaining the ability to get out of such a situation, and using my gained privilege to aid the community I once belonged to.

I am not who most people envision when they think of the word "homeless", but those people would be wrong. During the end of my high school career, my family and I became part of the half a million people in the United States who are homeless. My family was evicted from our home in my Junior year. My mother is a single and disabled mother who was trying to provide for two kids without any support. She not only faced a lack of support from family and friends, but mostly from the governmental programs like childcare and other services she needed most, which is what ultimately led us to join the ever growing population of homeless citizens. We faced what I like to call "silent homelessness". The only people around me that really knew for a while were my closest friends. Every time I would tell someone, I would more often than not hear a remark about how they could never tell or that they did not believe me. My mother faced the same experience when disclosing to others. For awhile, part of me felt relieved that others could not tell. Eventually, I realized that facing silent homelessness was taking a much larger toll on me than I assumed. I faced severe depression, anxiety and paranoia in the shelter I resided in. I eventually discontinued going to school in person, opting to take only my necessary credits online in order to graduate. With the pressure I felt to keep homelessness a secret from others, I had nobody to open up to and suffered severely because of it. The more time I spent within the shelter, the more I realized that I was not the only person facing similar struggles. Many others I got to know in the shelter spoke of similar experiences of severe anxiety and depression, as well as many others facing chronic mental conditions like bipolar and schizophrenia. Within the shelter, residents received little to no mental health support, especially since most of us had no insurance and couldn't afford the expenses of weekly therapy sessions or psychiatric medications. This experience was one that inspired me to have a passion for helping others facing homelessness. I know first account the dire lack of mental health and overall healthcare services in our country. I was lucky enough to gain the opportunity to go away to college, and I knew I could use this opportunity in no other way but to give back to the homeless community. I aspire to become a psychiatrist that will one day be fortunate enough to give low cost services to the homeless community and provide them with care that every human deserves. Currently, I work with The Backpack Project of Athens, a nonprofit that aids the homeless community of Athens, GA by delivering essential goods/ food and providing access to caseworkers, shelters, and other resources. I am working on putting out resources to free and low cost mental health services, and am amplifying the mental health struggles of the homeless community to students and faculty on UGA's campus. The most rewarding experience that has helped me overcome my own mental health struggles from homelessness was gaining the ability to get out of such a situation, and using my gained privilege to aid the community I once belonged to.

I am not who most people envision when they think of the word "homeless", but those people would be wrong. During the end of my high school career, my family and I became part of the half a million people in the United States who are homeless. My family was evicted from our home in my Junior year. My mother is a single and disabled mother who was trying to provide for two kids without any support. She not only faced a lack of support from family and friends, but mostly from the governmental programs like childcare and other services she needed most, which is what ultimately led us to join the ever growing population of homeless citizens. We faced what I like to call "silent homelessness". The only people around me that really knew for a while were my closest friends. Every time I would tell someone, I would more often than not hear a remark about how they could never tell or that they did not believe me. My mother faced the same experience when disclosing to others. For awhile, part of me felt relieved that others could not tell. Eventually, I realized that facing silent homelessness was taking a much larger toll on me than I assumed. I faced severe depression, anxiety and paranoia in the shelter I resided in. I eventually discontinued going to school in person, opting to take only my necessary credits online in order to graduate. With the pressure I felt to keep homelessness a secret from others, I had nobody to open up to and suffered severely because of it. The more time I spent within the shelter, the more I realized that I was not the only person facing similar struggles. Many others I got to know in the shelter spoke of similar experiences of severe anxiety and depression, as well as many others facing chronic mental conditions like bipolar and schizophrenia. Within the shelter, residents received little to no mental health support, especially since most of us had no insurance and couldn't afford the expenses of weekly therapy sessions or psychiatric medications. This experience was one that inspired me to have a passion for helping others facing homelessness. I know first account the dire lack of mental health and overall healthcare services in our country. I was lucky enough to gain the opportunity to go away to college, and I knew I could use this opportunity in no other way but to give back to the homeless community. I aspire to become a psychiatrist that will one day be fortunate enough to give low cost services to the homeless community and provide them with care that every human deserves. Currently, I work with The Backpack Project of Athens, a nonprofit that aids the homeless community of Athens, GA by delivering essential goods/ food and providing access to caseworkers, shelters, and other resources. I am working on putting out resources to free and low cost mental health services, and am amplifying the mental health struggles of the homeless community to students and faculty on UGA's campus. The most rewarding experience that has helped me overcome my own mental health struggles from homelessness was gaining the ability to get out of such a situation, and using my gained privilege to aid the community I once belonged to.

I am not who most people envision when they think of the word "homeless", but those people would be wrong. During the end of my high school career, my family and I became part of the half a million people in the United States who are homeless. My family was evicted from our home in my Junior year. My mother is a single and disabled mother who was trying to provide for two kids without any support. She not only faced a lack of support from family and friends, but mostly from the governmental programs like childcare and other services she needed most, which is what ultimately led us to join the ever growing population of homeless citizens. We faced what I like to call "silent homelessness". The only people around me that really knew for a while were my closest friends. Every time I would tell someone, I would more often than not hear a remark about how they could never tell or that they did not believe me. My mother faced the same experience when disclosing to others. For awhile, part of me felt relieved that others could not tell. Eventually, I realized that facing silent homelessness was taking a much larger toll on me than I assumed. I faced severe depression, anxiety and paranoia in the shelter I resided in. I eventually discontinued going to school in person, opting to take only my necessary credits online in order to graduate. With the pressure I felt to keep homelessness a secret from others, I had nobody to open up to and suffered severely because of it. The more time I spent within the shelter, the more I realized that I was not the only person facing similar struggles. Many others I got to know in the shelter spoke of similar experiences of severe anxiety and depression, as well as many others facing chronic mental conditions like bipolar and schizophrenia. Within the shelter, residents received little to no mental health support, especially since most of us had no insurance and couldn't afford the expenses of weekly therapy sessions or psychiatric medications. This experience was one that inspired me to have a passion for helping others facing homelessness. I know first account the dire lack of mental health and overall healthcare services in our country. I was lucky enough to gain the opportunity to go away to college, and I knew I could use this opportunity in no other way but to give back to the homeless community. I aspire to become a psychiatrist that will one day be fortunate enough to give low cost services to the homeless community and provide them with care that every human deserves. Currently, I work with The Backpack Project of Athens, a nonprofit that aids the homeless community of Athens, GA by delivering essential goods/ food and providing access to caseworkers, shelters, and other resources. I am working on putting out resources to free and low cost mental health services, and am amplifying the mental health struggles of the homeless community to students and faculty on UGA's campus. The most rewarding experience that has helped me overcome my own mental health struggles from homelessness was gaining the ability to get out of such a situation, and using my gained privilege to aid the community I once belonged to.

I am not who most people envision when they think of the word "homeless", but those people would be wrong. During the end of my high school career, my family and I became part of the half a million people in the United States who are homeless. My family was evicted from our home in my Junior year. My mother is a single and disabled mother who was trying to provide for two kids without any support. She not only faced a lack of support from family and friends, but mostly from the governmental programs like childcare and other services she needed most, which is what ultimately led us to join the ever growing population of homeless citizens. We faced what I like to call "silent homelessness". The only people around me that really knew for a while were my closest friends. Every time I would tell someone, I would more often than not hear a remark about how they could never tell or that they did not believe me. My mother faced the same experience when disclosing to others. For awhile, part of me felt relieved that others could not tell. Eventually, I realized that facing silent homelessness was taking a much larger toll on me than I assumed. I faced severe depression, anxiety and paranoia in the shelter I resided in. I eventually discontinued going to school in person, opting to take only my necessary credits online in order to graduate. With the pressure I felt to keep homelessness a secret from others, I had nobody to open up to and suffered severely because of it. The more time I spent within the shelter, the more I realized that I was not the only person facing similar struggles. Many others I got to know in the shelter spoke of similar experiences of severe anxiety and depression, as well as many others facing chronic mental conditions like bipolar and schizophrenia. Within the shelter, residents received little to no mental health support, especially since most of us had no insurance and couldn't afford the expenses of weekly therapy sessions or psychiatric medications. This experience was one that inspired me to have a passion for helping others facing homelessness. I know first account the dire lack of mental health and overall healthcare services in our country. I was lucky enough to gain the opportunity to go away to college, and I knew I could use this opportunity in no other way but to give back to the homeless community. I aspire to become a psychiatrist that will one day be fortunate enough to give low cost services to the homeless community and provide them with care that every human deserves. Currently, I work with The Backpack Project of Athens, a nonprofit that aids the homeless community of Athens, GA by delivering essential goods/ food and providing access to caseworkers, shelters, and other resources. I am working on putting out resources to free and low cost mental health services, and am amplifying the mental health struggles of the homeless community to students and faculty on UGA's campus. The most rewarding experience that has helped me overcome my own mental health struggles from homelessness was gaining the ability to get out of such a situation, and using my gained privilege to aid the community I once belonged to.

"You don't look like you are homeless". This is a phrase I hear nearly every time I decide to share with someone the fact that I am, in fact, homeless. They come up with a plethora of reasons as to why I should not and cannot be homeless: "you are dressed so well and look so neat", "you still do so well in school!", "you always look so happy". When I was younger I held the same stigma against homeless individuals that a majority of people do, which is that homeless people bring their situation upon themselves by doing drugs or foolishly throwing all their money away in some other manner. Life taught me the hard way that this is far from the truth. The real truth is that there are a million reasons someone can fall into homelessness. Yes, some of those reasons include the stigmatized and stereotypical ones, but the large majority are for other reasons. All it takes is one missed pay check or one hack of a bank account to leave someone completely financially incapable of supporting themselves. I have met people who face homelessness because a fire burned down their home and all their belongings, or because their abusive spouse owns their home and they have nowhere else to go. Homelessness can happen to anyone. As I became homeless at such a young age, I became victim to this ruthless stereotyping in my public high school. Rumors spread rapidly and included a wide variety of fantasies that others made up to get their fix of gossip and laughs at my expense. Everything from prostitution, to drug use, to money laundering. This, combined with the already stressful and deeply traumatic experience of having to quickly pack up my home and move into a shelter, threw me into a deep state of anxiety and depression. I kept this secret, putting on the best facade I could at school to focus on my studies and show that I wouldn't let the rumors get to me. I was far from alone in this experience of mental health struggles. I was fortunate enough to meet many kind people in the family shelter I lived at, who shared their own struggles with me. I quickly realized how many people were in need of mental health services, weather it be from suicidal tendencies or thoughts, being suddenly unable to afford necessary psychiatric medications upon becoming homeless, or just struggling with anxiety and depression from the change like I had. The shelter I was in provided little to no resources, and left its residents to struggle in silence. This was one of the most fundamental experiences of my life that shifted my view of both homelessness and mental health. The previous stigma I had around both dissipated, and I formed a new passion to help people who have had similar experiences to me. After seeing how underserved the homeless community is in terms of healthcare and mental health, I felt inspired to persevere out of that situation and pursue psychiatry. I hope to one day help minority or underserved groups such as the one I was a part of, and not let stigma or greed withhold me from being generous and understanding to others.

"You don't look like you are homeless". This is a phrase I hear nearly every time I decide to share with someone the fact that I am, in fact, homeless. They come up with a plethora of reasons as to why I should not and cannot be homeless: "you are dressed so well and look so neat", "you still do so well in school!", "you always look so happy". When I was younger I held the same stigma against homeless individuals that a majority of people do, which is that homeless people bring their situation upon themselves by doing drugs or foolishly throwing all their money away in some other manner. Life taught me the hard way that this is far from the truth. The real truth is that there are a million reasons someone can fall into homelessness. Yes, some of those reasons include the stigmatized and stereotypical ones, but the large majority are for other reasons. All it takes is one missed pay check or one hack of a bank account to leave someone completely financially incapable of supporting themselves. I have met people who face homelessness because a fire burned down their home and all their belongings, or because their abusive spouse owns their home and they have nowhere else to go. Homelessness can happen to anyone. As I became homeless at such a young age, I became victim to this ruthless stereotyping in my public high school. Rumors spread rapidly and included a wide variety of fantasies that others made up to get their fix of gossip and laughs at my expense. Everything from prostitution, to drug use, to money laundering. This, combined with the already stressful and deeply traumatic experience of having to quickly pack up my home and move into a shelter, threw me into a deep state of anxiety and depression. I kept this secret, putting on the best facade I could at school to focus on my studies and show that I wouldn't let the rumors get to me. I was far from alone in this experience of mental health struggles. I was fortunate enough to meet many kind people in the family shelter I lived at, who shared their own struggles with me. I quickly realized how many people were in need of mental health services, weather it be from suicidal tendencies or thoughts, being suddenly unable to afford necessary psychiatric medications upon becoming homeless, or just struggling with anxiety and depression from the change like I had. The shelter I was in provided little to no resources, and left its residents to struggle in silence. This was one of the most fundamental experiences of my life that shifted my view of both homelessness and mental health. The previous stigma I had around both dissipated, and I formed a new passion to help people who have had similar experiences to me. After seeing how underserved the homeless community is in terms of healthcare and mental health, I felt inspired to persevere out of that situation and pursue psychiatry. I hope to one day help minority or underserved groups such as the one I was a part of, and not let stigma or greed withhold me from being generous and understanding to others.

When I was in my later years of high school I faced the hardship of my family and I becoming homeless. It should go without saying that it had a huge toll on my mental health. One of the biggest struggles I faced was the stigma. When word got out to people from my high school, they all made up outlandish stories of how I ended up in that situation. Everything from drug addiction to prostitution was whispered and rumored throughout the school. The real reason my family faced this was because of my mother's disability and incapability to work, and her struggles as a single mother trying to not only take care of me, but my toddler aged sister as well. The situation paired with the nasty rumors being spread about me caused massive anxiety and depression that got so bad I was forced out of school during my senior year, being advised to graduate online. The hardest part was the fact that I had no access to mental health resources due to my lack of funding. the shelter I was in provided nothing but a roof over my head, but pushed residents aside when they begged for mental health care. I was not the only one facing this; during my time in the shelter I spoke with many different families who all became homeless for a variety of reasons being anything from fires burning their house down or escaping a domestic violence situation. Almost everyone I spoke to was struggling heavily with depression and anxiety, and oftentimes other mental disorders that they were unable to access medication for. This was one of the most impactful moments of my life that solidified my passion for mental health services as well as healthcare. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to come to the University of Georgia to pursue this field, but I know many others who were in my situation would not get a chance to do the same. I was told while in the shelter that I was the first individual in over thirty years to leave to go to college, aside from the occasional few who would decide to attend the local community college. I knew when they said this that part of the issue was the inadequate access to mental help, as I even struggled to graduate, let alone convince myself I was well enough or capable to tackle college over 15 hours away. I hope that in my future I can achieve my dreams of becoming a psychiatrist, and use this to aid underprivilege communities such as the homeless community that I was once a part of. I believe that mental health care has become a money hungry field, that only cares about maximizing patient intake and pushing most expensive therapy sessions, treatments, or medications. I hope to change this by taking a more personal approach and aiding those who don't have funds to get help from others, because they deserve it just as much as everyone else.

When I was in my later years of high school I faced the hardship of my family and I becoming homeless. It should go without saying that it had a huge toll on my mental health. One of the biggest struggles I faced was the stigma. When word got out to people from my high school, they all made up outlandish stories of how I ended up in that situation. Everything from drug addiction to prostitution was whispered and rumored throughout the school. The real reason my family faced this was because of my mother's disability and incapability to work, and her struggles as a single mother trying to not only take care of me, but my toddler aged sister as well. The situation paired with the nasty rumors being spread about me caused massive anxiety and depression that got so bad I was forced out of school during my senior year, being advised to graduate online. The hardest part was the fact that I had no access to mental health resources due to my lack of funding. the shelter I was in provided nothing but a roof over my head, but pushed residents aside when they begged for mental health care. I was not the only one facing this; during my time in the shelter I spoke with many different families who all became homeless for a variety of reasons being anything from fires burning their house down or escaping a domestic violence situation. Almost everyone I spoke to was struggling heavily with depression and anxiety, and oftentimes other mental disorders that they were unable to access medication for. This was one of the most impactful moments of my life that solidified my passion for mental health services as well as healthcare. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to come to the University of Georgia to pursue this field, but I know many others who were in my situation would not get a chance to do the same. I was told while in the shelter that I was the first individual in over thirty years to leave to go to college, aside from the occasional few who would decide to attend the local community college. I knew when they said this that part of the issue was the inadequate access to mental help, as I even struggled to graduate, let alone convince myself I was well enough or capable to tackle college over 15 hours away. I hope that in my future I can achieve my dreams of becoming a psychiatrist, and use this to aid underprivilege communities such as the homeless community that I was once a part of. I believe that mental health care has become a money hungry field, that only cares about maximizing patient intake and pushing most expensive therapy sessions, treatments, or medications. I hope to change this by taking a more personal approach and aiding those who don't have funds to get help from others, because they deserve it just as much as everyone else.

When I was in my later years of high school I faced the hardship of my family and I becoming homeless. It should go without saying that it had a huge toll on my mental health. One of the biggest struggles I faced was the stigma. When word got out to people from my high school, they all made up outlandish stories of how I ended up in that situation. Everything from drug addiction to prostitution was whispered and rumored throughout the school. The real reason my family faced this was because of my mother's disability and incapability to work, and her struggles as a single mother trying to not only take care of me, but my toddler aged sister as well. The situation paired with the nasty rumors being spread about me caused massive anxiety and depression that got so bad I was forced out of school during my senior year, being advised to graduate online. The hardest part was the fact that I had no access to mental health resources due to my lack of funding. the shelter I was in provided nothing but a roof over my head, but pushed residents aside when they begged for mental health care. I was not the only one facing this; during my time in the shelter I spoke with many different families who all became homeless for a variety of reasons being anything from fires burning their house down or escaping a domestic violence situation. Almost everyone I spoke to was struggling heavily with depression and anxiety, and oftentimes other mental disorders that they were unable to access medication for. This was one of the most impactful moments of my life that solidified my passion for mental health services as well as healthcare. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to come to the University of Georgia to pursue this field, but I know many others who were in my situation would not get a chance to do the same. I was told while in the shelter that I was the first individual in over thirty years to leave to go to college, aside from the occasional few who would decide to attend the local community college. I knew when they said this that part of the issue was the inadequate access to mental help, as I even struggled to graduate, let alone convince myself I was well enough or capable to tackle college over 15 hours away. I hope that in my future I can achieve my dreams of becoming a psychiatrist, and use this to aid underprivilege communities such as the homeless community that I was once a part of. I believe that mental health care has become a money hungry field, that only cares about maximizing patient intake and pushing most expensive therapy sessions, treatments, or medications. I hope to change this by taking a more personal approach and aiding those who don't have funds to get help from others, because they deserve it just as much as everyone else.

When I was in my later years of high school I faced the hardship of my family and I becoming homeless. It should go without saying that it had a huge toll on my mental health. One of the biggest struggles I faced was the stigma. When word got out to people from my high school, they all made up outlandish stories of how I ended up in that situation. Everything from drug addiction to prostitution was whispered and rumored throughout the school. The real reason my family faced this was because of my mother's disability and incapability to work, and her struggles as a single mother trying to not only take care of me, but my toddler aged sister as well. The situation paired with the nasty rumors being spread about me caused massive anxiety and depression that got so bad I was forced out of school during my senior year, being advised to graduate online. The hardest part was the fact that I had no access to mental health resources due to my lack of funding. the shelter I was in provided nothing but a roof over my head, but pushed residents aside when they begged for mental health care. I was not the only one facing this; during my time in the shelter I spoke with many different families who all became homeless for a variety of reasons being anything from fires burning their house down or escaping a domestic violence situation. Almost everyone I spoke to was struggling heavily with depression and anxiety, and oftentimes other mental disorders that they were unable to access medication for. This was one of the most impactful moments of my life that solidified my passion for mental health services as well as healthcare. I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to come to the University of Georgia to pursue this field, but I know many others who were in my situation would not get a chance to do the same. I was told while in the shelter that I was the first individual in over thirty years to leave to go to college, aside from the occasional few who would decide to attend the local community college. I knew when they said this that part of the issue was the inadequate access to mental help, as I even struggled to graduate, let alone convince myself I was well enough or capable to tackle college over 15 hours away. I hope that in my future I can achieve my dreams of becoming a psychiatrist, and use this to aid underprivilege communities such as the homeless community that I was once a part of. I believe that mental health care has become a money hungry field, that only cares about maximizing patient intake and pushing most expensive therapy sessions, treatments, or medications. I hope to change this by taking a more personal approach and aiding those who don't have funds to get help from others, because they deserve it just as much as everyone else.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. I specifically want to help low class minority groups, because these are the groups I have seen struggle in silence the most. My family is Latino, and I have seen the effects of mental health on us personally, as it is more acceptable to stay silent about mental health issues. It is clear to me now that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental health care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. I specifically want to help low class minority groups, because these are the groups I have seen struggle in silence the most. My family is Latino, and I have seen the effects of mental health on us personally, as it is more acceptable to stay silent about mental health issues. It is clear to me now that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental health care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. I specifically want to help low class minority groups, because these are the groups I have seen struggle in silence the most. My family is Latino, and I have seen the effects of mental health on us personally, as it is more acceptable to stay silent about mental health issues. It is clear to me now that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental health care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. I specifically want to help low class minority groups, because these are the groups I have seen struggle in silence the most. My family is Latino, and I have seen the effects of mental health on us personally, as it is more acceptable to stay silent about mental health issues. It is clear to me now that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental health care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

Being homeless is an experience I wish on nobody, as I have experienced it myself and know how emotionally and physically exhausting it is. However, being homeless was a key experience within my life that made me realize what career I wanted to pursue. When I was in the homeless shelter, the amount of people I saw who faced serious mental struggles was tremendous. I met and got to know individuals who struggled with depression, anxiety, and even more serious mental health struggles or disorders. The saddest part to watch was how these people did not receive proper and life saving mental health services, like therapy and medication, although they needed it. I was one of these individuals as well, as I was struggling with both anxiety and depression due to my circumstance. When I asked for help, I was told if I could not afford it I would not receive it, and it disgusted me. I decided then that my passion was healthcare/mental health, something I knew before becoming homeless, but this had solidified my decision. I want to become a Psychiatrist and I hope that by doing so I can help underprivileged individuals, as I once was, in order to provide necessary mental health and medical services. While I still have a long way to go until I reach this goal, I have started to make my impact in smaller ways. Once being admitted into my undergrad at the University of Georgia, I immediately noticed that the homeless population within Athens was extremely high, with little resources to help these individuals. I empathize, as I have experienced this first hand, and decided to volunteer to give back to the community I knew too well. I joined Hearts for Homeless, which is a volunteer group that provides basic health screenings and free clinic access for homeless individuals. When I saw this, I knew this is a great thing that I wish I had access too when i was in the same situation. My favorite part of this club was not only providing healthcare to homeless individuals, but being able to speak with them and make them feel safe, heard and understood. I know better than anyone that what most people in this situation need is someone to talk to, weather it is about their current feelings, or experiences in the past, or just someone to have fun conversation with. I understood how isolating and lonely it can feel in that position. This is why I hope to be in a position once I am finished with schooling to provide greater mental health services to such groups.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. I specifically want to help low class minority groups, because these are the groups I have seen struggle in silence the most. My family is Latino, and I have seen the effects of mental health on us personally, as it is more acceptable to stay silent about mental health issues. It is clear to me now that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental health care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. This made it clear that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental heath care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. This made it clear that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental heath care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. This made it clear that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental heath care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

As I've spent part of my life in a homeless shelter in one of the poorest areas of Long Island, I saw the detrimental effects of poor mental health on not only others around me, but myself and my family as well. There were many people in the shelter who suffered extreme trauma and psychopathology, and they never received the care necessary to allow them to get better and get out of the system. Instead, many of these individuals turned to substance abuse as a way to cope with their problems. In regards to myself, I have seen my mother struggle greatly with poor mental health. Being a single mother and carrying the weight of taking her children into homelessness, as well as having suffered child loss, domestic abuse, and other unspeakable events, took the greatest toll on her mind. She struggled without mental health care as she put on a facade of strength for my sister and me. I have suffered immensely without proper care as well; I let depression and anxiety consume me once I became homeless. I didn't care about school, and my physical health declined rapidly. I had to move to remote teaching halfway through my senior year, throwing away what should have been one of the most memorable and fun years of my life as my declining mental health took over everything. Once I miraculously made it out of my situation and into college, I realized through reflecting on everything I had seen in the system that I needed to make serious changes to my habits and mental health care to avoid falling so deep into depression, and to prevent myself from turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms like I had seen others do. I prioritize time for myself, allowing myself time to nourish my mind and body with things that I love, like reading before bed and going to the gym. I eat well, as a sound body is a sound mind. Even though my major is extremely tough and time-consuming, I have allowed myself to create time for my passions, like musical theater, and to not guilt myself for doing extracurriculars unrelated to medical school or my major. I still suffer from stress, homesickness, feelings of inadequacy and much more. However, my new routines and mental health habits prevent me from falling so deep into these issues that they consume me. I have aspirations of becoming a psychiatrist, and this is mainly due to my personal struggle with mental health, and how I have seen others around me struggle. I hope that one day I can help others through their battle as I was able to help myself out.

Like many people, my mother is one of the largest supporters in my life. When I think of my mother, one of the first things that comes to mind is resilience. She is easily one of the strongest people I know, and she has been through incredibly difficult events with little support. Although she had few supporters in her own life, she has always made it a point to support me through whatever decisions I make or whatever hardships I face. My mother faced childhood abuse, domestic abuse, child loss, chronic illness and so much more. I have faced many of these events alongside her, and through the toughest times, like the passing of my sister or our eviction leading to homelessness, she has always put herself last in order to support me first. She has always done the exact same when it comes to my education and my future. When I decided in my high school years that I had my sights set on going to medical school and becoming a psychiatrist, I faced opinions of doubt and opposition from nearly everyone else in my family. "Do you really think you can take care of crazy people all day", "I really don't see you becoming the first doctor in the family...", and " I just think that's a little too hard for a girl like you" are phrases I heard from family members constantly. Nobody believed in my capabilities, passion and intelligence- aside from my mother. My mom saw the deep strive I had for my future career, how I would do anything it took to get into a great college and pursue my dreams, despite the financial or mental hardships I faced myself along the way. Although she never went to college and lacked much knowledge about the process, she educated herself as much as she could and did everything she could to prepare me. When I told her I wanted to leave the state for college, she didn't cry and beg me to stay close. Instead, she told me that wherever I felt I would strive and receive the best education for me, then she would support me going there, even if she would miss me. This kind of unconditional support, unselfish and unbiased, is what kept me on the career path I truly love and want to accomplish when I am older. I can only hope that one day, I will have the means to support my mom like she has always supported me.

As I entered the beginning of my senior year, I was struck with the news that my family and I were getting evicted. The news wasn't necessarily unexpected; my family and I had faced economic hardship for years. My mom is a single mother, raising two kids while also facing a chronic illness that has taken over both her life, as well as mine for as long as I can remember. Jobs wouldn't hire her due to her physical struggles, and even if she did manage to find a job, they would realize she was incapable of completing certain tasks and would hire her as quickly as possible, excusing it as being "overstaffed" or some other lie to avoid saying what she already knew. This has made my entire life, and especially my high school years, unbelievably hard. We could only scrape by on unemployment and food stamps for so long, and eventually rent was out of the budget, and we had no choice but to accept eviction and move into a homeless shelter. I certainly wish that I was never homeless, as it was one of the biggest burdens on my mental and physical health. I had to take off from school due to severe depression and chronic illnesses that I ended up developing, and my living situation only kept me down. But I saw things in the shelter that changed the entire trajectory of my life and gave me a goal to strive for. In the family shelter where I lived, there were countless drug addicts who continued to abuse despite the situation they were in. At first, one may think that it is selfish of them to use their money towards drugs when they have children to care for, and they should be doing everything in their power to escape the system. However, as I remained at the shelter for longer and got to know many of these individuals, I realized their stories were not as simple as that. Many encountered traumatic events that pushed them into drug use, such as domestic violence, house fires, sex trafficking, and more. These situations made me realize that if the shelter, or anyone, had provided these people with adequate mental health care, and proper mental disorder medication, they possibly wouldn't be fighting a mental battle every day and turning to drug use. This is the main thing that solidified my desire to pursue psychiatry. I am an example of someone who has struggled silently with mental health problems while in the system, and I am by far not the worst I know of. This made it clear that as a society, we need easy access to cheaper mental heath care for the lower class, as they are oftentimes the ones who need it the most.

Future me will be the first doctor in my family, someone to help my mother and sister out of poverty and homelessness, and above all else driven and inspired.

Facing the struggles of my family’s eviction and homelessness during my senior year was one of my biggest struggles. I entered my senior year with a positive outlook, despite the fact that my family was far below the poverty line, unable to keep paying our rent. After I would come home from school I would have the burden of taking care of my sister and helping my disabled mother, along with finding time for my homework and studying. I almost never wanted to be home because of this stress, so I would find joy through extracurricular activities that my school offered. In the beginning of the school year, a girl came up to me during my third period class, asking if I wanted to join a club that she ran. “I run the Thanksgiving food drive,” she whispered, “We need as much help as we can get.. many people don’t want to stay after school for hours, so it’s just me and the other officers right now”. Truth is, I already knew all about the food drive. My guidance counselor had called me down to her office early in the year, looking at me with a pitiful expression and explaining that she had signed my family up to receive boxes of food from the drive, since she “knew we were struggling”. Despite the fact that I would be one of the recipients of the food drive’s hard work, I decided to join and help out. I knew there were many other families in my community who would need one of the hundreds of boxes we were planning to create. And besides, nobody had to know that I would be getting one, right? I stayed after school almost every day, and although it made being home a bit more stressful because I had less time to study and help my family, I found happiness in collecting donations outside of grocery stores and football games with the friends I made who were also helping out. I felt like I was doing something good for people who were probably in similar situations as I was. I wouldn’t let the fact that I was going to become homeless stop me from being happy. Once we collected all of the donations, I stayed at the school during the weekend, just days before Thanksgiving, to help the officers package all of the non perishable food donations. After hours of sweating, lifting, taping, and more, we had created over 500 boxes of food to take to families and schools across Long Island. I sat in the auditorium on the delivery day, where the fellow seniors and I would drive the boxes to families in our community. The advising teacher gave a speech that will stick with me forever. He condemned us for our hard work: how we stayed after until the sun set in the cold to collect thousands of dollars of food donations, and how we stayed at the school past midnight to package all the boxes up. He had said, “be kind to these people, as some people in this very auditorium could be receiving a box today- people just like you, who are your friends”. I had almost expected everyone to turn around and look at me as he uttered those words, however everyone remained facing forward, listening intently to his speech. I realized that I am more than my financial situation to everyone, and that first and foremost I was being recognized and appreciated for my qualities and hard work.

As a Disney fanatic from a very young age, it is hard to narrow it down to a singular favorite Disney character. However, after some long thinking, I have finally found an answer. I have autism, and because of this, my interests as a child were quite peculiar. When I was very young, I would sit in my living room all day, watching the same movie on repeat over and over and over again. This movie was Mary Poppins, my obsession that led strong for years of my life, and it is even present now (as what I now know, with my recently discovered autism diagnosis, is my first special interest). When I was around 3-4, I would make my mother play Mary Poppins for me all day on our old, run down TV. I had plenty of other movies, but this was the only one I would even glance at. This lasted for years, and by the time I was 7, I would still watch the film every single week. I learned all the songs, and would recite lines perfectly in a British accent. When I was 8, my Father took me to see Mary Poppins on Broadway; afterwards, it was the only thing that I would talk about for weeks. Later on, when I entered middle school, I decided to join theater, despite being extremely meek and shy. My family thought it would be good for me to build confidence and make more friends, and I very much enjoyed singing and dancing. The very first musical I had the opportunity to do the summer before my 7th grade year was in fact Mary Poppins. I understudied Mary Poppins and completely immersed myself in the character. It was like a dream come true for me to practically become her during rehearsals, instead of just being myself, Skylar. I have always admired Mary Poppins: her kindness, her elegant manner and looks, her protectiveness, her maturity. It all modeled precisely what I wanted to grow up to be, what I have strived to achieve as I am now an adult at the age of 18, and soon going into my first year of college. So, over every other lovable character from the entire Disney franchise, I have to say Mary Poppins is my favorite for forming me into the person that I am today and being my biggest role model in media.

When I got evicted, it changed the way I viewed life. Previously, when I had a steady roof over my head and plenty of money, I was so privileged that I didn’t feel the need to work or volunteer- it was almost as if it was below me. When my family lost everything and we had to move into a homeless shelter this year, I began to become appreciative of the small things I still had: food, provided from my EBT card, clothes that I had back from when we still had money, and health insurance to take care of my medical issues that began this year as well. As I became friendly with the other residents in the homeless shelter I realized that while we all were in a similar situation, there were even other people here who have far less than me. I started to volunteer. I volunteered at my own shelter: at the daycare, taking care of the babies and small children, or at the food pantry at the back of the shelter where my mom goes to pick up some extra food every Friday morning. The workers at my shelter treat me with such compassion and kindness, and every time I would come to volunteer their faces would light up. One day, of the women who works at the food pantry and many of the other volunteer services here, named Jen, told me that I am the first teenager at this shelter in the past ten years who is going away to college. This fact made me feel special at first, but then I realized how sad and shocking it really is. College is so unaffordable in general to average income students, and if you are homeless college becomes out of the question. I am attending the University of Georgia in the fall, and I have accepted the fact that I will be in debt for the rest of my life to pursue my dreams where I really want to be. Everyone at the shelter cheers me on everytime I see them and tells me they are so excited, counting down the days until I graduate high school. They are so glad that I have a way out of here. Homelessness has made me lose so much of my life, including friends, personal belongings, and my school. However being homeless has altered the way that I view life and has made me into a different person that I will always value.

When my baby sister passed away at only one month old, it left my family in shambles. I saw the way that my mother, someone who was always so strong and supportive when everyone else needed her, broke down completely. This was one of the first and most impactful moments of my childhood that sparked my passion to pursue psychology, as I realized the importance of mental health services in our society today, especially in the hispanic community. In hispanic culture, more often than not, it is frowned upon to talk about mental health struggles, as these issues are seen as things that should be kept secret or that individuals should simply “get over”. This explains why, growing up, I had never seen my mother cry, as she had these ideas drilled into her from a young age that she cannot struggle with her mental health, or she is weak. Furthermore, I have handled my own weight of mental health issues, which I never felt comfortable sharing with my family or seeking help for. Now, at 18 years of age, I have finally been diagnosed with autism, as well as depression and anxiety. If mental health issues and being medicated were normalize in my culture, I may have received my diagnosis much earlier in my childhood. I would have had accommodations and aid to help me navigate life on a more level playing field as my peers. I have always felt odd and isolated, and it’s because I did not receive treatment and accommodations I deserved. All children, and especially hispanic and POC children, deserve proper mental care, treatment and medication despite stigmatism surrounding such in the community. My goal when I go to medical school is to specialize in autism, so I can help teens and adults like me, especially in my culture, who did not receive proper diagnosis or treatment when they were children. Intervention and accommodation in young autistic children’s lives is imperative, and the possibility that I would be able to help those who did not receive such care would mean the world to me and make an important change. These issues I see in my culture are the primary reason I want to pursue psychology, to hopefully be even a small part of the change to normalize mental health services among the hispanic community and let people know that they should not be afraid to reach out when they need help.

As a homeless student, getting my financial aid awards back from all of my colleges was extremely stressful for me and my family. My mother was brought to tears when she realized that my decided college was not giving me nearly enough money for me to attend, and that my only option is to be in debt for the rest of my life and drowning in student loans. Being awarded this scholarship would aid me greatly in my college journey, as any amount of money helps in my case, even $500. I am going to school as a psychology major on a pre- medical track, and after I receive my degree I will ideally be attending four more years of medical school, and then completing 4 years in residency. I will have lots of student loans to pay back by the time I am finished with all of my schooling and earn my doctorate. My dream is to become a psychiatrist with a specialization in autism. I grew up with minimal access to mental health resources, and I did not get diagnosed as autistic myself until I was a teenager. This is because, as a young Puerto Rican girl, mental health issues in my culture is typically frowned upon. In hispanic culture, people think that if someone is mentally ill they should “get over it” and toughen up. This stigma has harmed me and many others in my family and culture in general. It has inspired me, however, to pursue psychiatry to hopefully help hispanic individuals like me who were not diagnosed at a young age, so they can receive treatment and accommodations that they need and deserve, weather it be in school, work, or anywhere else. This scholarship would also help me pay for housing at college, which, as a homeless high school student, would mean the world to me. I have not had the comfort of a clean and nice place to live in for a long time, as I am currently living in a homeless shelter. If I could receive this scholarship to not only put towards my overall education, but my housing and dorm costs as well, that would give me comfort of having an adequate place to stay while I am in college so that I can solely focus on my education without worrying about my homelessness. This scholarship can improve my college experience in so many ways.

The brain and the way it functions has always fascinated me from a young age. I used to sit in front of my computer at age 6 and I would research the brain. People thought I was an odd kid, and adults always said that it was a phase and I would grow out of my weird interest in neurological disorders. Here I am now, 18 years old, and I am going to the University of Georgia to major in psychology on a pre- medical track. My dream is to end up in medical school. I want to be a psychiatrist with a specialty in autism. Further along in my life, I have realized that my intense passion for neuroscience and psychological disorders was likely caused by my autism. I was lately diagnosed, not until my teen years, as many of my symptoms were pushed off with simple explanations like “shyness” or just me being weird. When I was finally diagnosed, it was like my whole life started to make sense. I am grateful for my diagnosis now, however I wish that I had received one in my childhood so that I would have gotten the accommodations and treatments that I needed as I was growing up and finding myself. Since I found out I was autistic and had already set my mind on psychiatry, I eventually decided I wanted to specialize in treating autistic adults/ teens like me who did not receive their diagnosis until further in their life. Growing up undiagnosed causes lots of physical and mental trauma that the body carries forever unless treated. Aside from my dreams of medical school, I have had a passion for singing and musical theater since I was in middle school. I hope to carry this hobby with me into college, as UGA provides an amazing club program for theater as well as acapella that I would be able to participate in as well as studying psychology. Singing and dancing is a way for me to creatively express myself, and without this hobby, I wouldn’t know what to do. It has carried me through hard times in my life, and acting in theater has helped me become more in touch with my emotions and facial expressions as an autistic individual. With all of my passions combined, I feel like I am a very well rounded and comforting person. I hope that when I eventually become a psychiatrist I can be one more person to break the stigma that many psychiatrists are cold and want patients in and out. I want to connect with people and help them all.

When my baby sister passed away at only one month old, it left my family in shambles. I saw the way that my mother, someone who was always so strong and supportive when everyone else needed her, broke down completely. This was one of the first and most impactful moments of my childhood that sparked my passion to pursue psychology, as I realized the importance of mental health services in our society today, especially in the hispanic community. In hispanic culture, more often than not, it is frowned upon to talk about mental health struggles, as these issues are seen as things that should be kept secret or that individuals should simply “get over”. This explains why, growing up, I had never seen my mother cry, as she had these ideas drilled into her from a young age that she cannot struggle with her mental health, or she is weak. Furthermore, I have handled my own weight of mental health issues, which I never felt comfortable sharing with my family or seeking help for. Now, at 18 years of age, I have finally been diagnosed with autism, as well as depression and anxiety. If mental health issues and being medicated were normalize in my culture, I may have received my diagnosis much earlier in my childhood. I would have had accommodations and aid to help me navigate life on a more level playing field as my peers. I have always felt odd and isolated, and it’s because I did not receive treatment and accommodations I deserved. All children, and especially hispanic and POC children, deserve proper mental care, treatment and medication despite stigmatism surrounding such in the community. My goal when I go to medical school is to specialize in autism, so I can help teens and adults like me, especially in my culture, who did not receive proper diagnosis or treatment when they were children. Intervention and accommodation in young autistic children’s lives is imperative, and the possibility that I would be able to help those who did not receive such care would mean the world to me and make an important change. These issues I see in my culture are the primary reason I want to pursue psychology, to hopefully be even a small part of the change to normalize mental health services among the hispanic community and let people know that they should not be afraid to reach out when they need help.

“You’re weird”, is what my 1st grade classmates would say to me almost every day. I grew up knowing that I was different from my peers: that I was “weird”, that I was “strange”, and that many people didn’t like to hang out with me. I was often a victim of bullying, but I didn’t even recognize it because I wanted so desperately to fit in that I would do anything that my classmates wanted. I never could quite place my finger on what it was that made me so different. It made me cry at night, and it caused me to fake ailments so I didn’t have to go to school with the other kids, because no matter what I couldn’t understand them. It wasn’t until the age of 18 that I was finally diagnosed with ASD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, which suddenly made almost every event in my life click all at once. Growing up with undiagnosed autism caused me to have to go through struggles that many other kids didn’t have to face, with no tools or resources to face them. I felt completely alone. However, now that I have my diagnosis and I have professionals able to support me, I am able to thrive and be comfortable in my disability, as it is a part of me. My autism brings me great struggles, however it also brings me many strengths that some may fail to see is caused by my autism. I have extremely good pattern recognition, and all throughout my life I have been called a “psychic” for being able to predict how certain events would unfold. However I was able to do this simply by just observing patters of others behavior, and using it to my advantage and to help others. Additionally, I have great organization and have been known to help people with cleaning their rooms/ house, organizing large projects, and getting school work done efficiently if they are struggling. While this may be an area where others lack, this is an area where I shine, and if others need help I am always willing to give a hand. Due to my masking from autism, in my older years, I have become able to make friends with people in all types of friend groups. I describe myself as a sort of chameleon, and I can blend in with multiple personalities of whoever I am talking to. This allows me to make many acquaintances and help many people! Although my autism has held me back in my younger ages, as I have grown and discovered who I actually am, it has become something I have accepted and something that has helped me as opposed to hindered me.

When my baby sister passed away at only one month old, it left my family in shambles. I saw the way that my mother, someone who was always so strong and supportive when everyone else needed her, broke down completely. This was one of the first and most impactful moments of my childhood that sparked my passion to pursue psychology, as I realized the importance of mental health services in our society today, especially in the hispanic community. In hispanic culture, more often than not it is somewhat frowned upon to talk about mental health struggles, as these issues are seen as things that should be kept secret or things that individuals should just “get over”. This explains the reason as to why growing up I had never seen my mother cry, as she had these ideas drilled into her from such a young age that she cannot struggle with her mental health or she is weak. These issues I see in my culture is the primary reason I want to pursue psychology, to hopefully be even a small part of the change to normalize mental health services among the hispanic community and let people know that they should not be afraid to reach out when they need help.

When I was young, my one dream for almost my entire childhood was to become an equestrian veterinarian when I went to college. I spent all my free time reading about horses, watching TV shows and documentaries about vets, and at horse stables caring for the animals there. However, as I have endured many hardships and made many discoveries that have changed my mental health for the worse, I have along my path parted ways with the idea of becoming a vet, and have found my love for psychiatry and mental health services. When I was about 10 my parents separated, and as of a few years ago I no longer am in contact with my Father. My dad had always been proud of me wanting to be a vet, as he loves animals and especially horses. I remember telling him a few years back that I was interested in studying psychology, and he was enraged. He never has believed in mental health, and he thinks the whole concept is a sham. In this mentality, he has contributed to a number of my mental illnesses, however I couldn't tell him that that is part of what peaked my interest of this career in the first place. When I was in the 7th grade, my baby sister passed away the day before she turned one month old. I was distraught, and I had to take a long break from school. In this time I received almost no mental help- no therapy, no counseling, no support groups. I dealt with the entire situation on my own. To this day, I still feel guilt and am grieving her passing, and although this is normal, if I had access to mental health resources back when she first passed, maybe dealing with it now would not be so difficult. Not long after her passing was the first time I even considered going into the field of mental health, a choice that felt like it brought new light to my world. When I was in middle school, I noticed I was completely unlike everyone else at my school. Everyone else felt "normal" and I felt like the odd one out. This feeling had been brewing inside me for years, always thinking that my interests are too weird, that I talk to loud, that I don't know how to speak to others the way everyone else does. I was always stuck feeling like I was just there when everyone else had such genuine friendships and connections. Recently, I have been diagnosed with autism. This diagnosis changed the way I viewed myself and the world in general. I now recognize why I have felt out of place, and I am turning around to try and embrace this part of me instead of repress and shun it. This would not be possible without the mental health resources I have found access to, yet another reason I think that studying psychology is so important to me. As somebody who has grown up in the lower class, in complete poverty, studying psychology and pursuing a career as a psychiatrist is so important to me because people who are poor have extremely high mental illness rates, yet access to help can be so expensive. Although this is a big dream, my hope is to someday have the ability to provide more affordable care to lower class people who are struggling. Everyone deserves fair and equal access to mental health services, especially medication for mental illnesses, even if they don't have much money, and he experiences I have had prove this to me.

My dream is to be a successful psychiatrist in the modern world who can help assist patients who are less fortunate monetarily, as everyone still deserves access to necessary mental health outlets and medication if necessary.

As a Disney fanatic from a very young age, it is hard to narrow it down to a singular favorite Disney character. However, after some long thinking, I have finally found an answer. I have autism, and because of this, my interests as a child were quite peculiar. When I was very young, I would sit in my living room all day, watching the same movie on repeat over and over and over again. This movie was Mary Poppins, my obsession that led strong for years of my life, and it is even present now (as what I now know, with my recently discovered autism diagnosis, is my first special interest). When I was around 3-4, I would make my mother play Mary Poppins for me all day on our old, run down TV. I had plenty of other movies, but this was the only one I would even glance at. This lasted for years, and by the time I was 7, I would still watch the film every single week. I learned all the songs, and would recite lines perfectly in a British accent. When I was 8, my Father took me to see Mary Poppins on Broadway; afterwards, it was the only thing that I would talk about for weeks. Later on, when I entered middle school, I decided to join theater, despite being extremely meek and shy. My family thought it would be good for me to build confidence and make more friends, and I very much enjoyed singing and dancing. The very first musical I had the opportunity to do the summer before my 7th grade year was in fact Mary Poppins. I understudied Mary Poppins and completely immersed myself in the character. It was like a dream come true for me to practically become her during rehearsals. I have always admired Mary Poppins: her kindness, her elegant manner and looks, her protectiveness, her maturity. It all modeled precisely what I wanted to grow into, what I have strived to achieve as I am now almost reaching adulthood at the age of 17. So over every other lovable character that Disney has created, I have to say Mary Poppins is my favorite for forming me into the person that I am today.

Although mental health is starting to become more focused on in today’s society, many people still do not prioritize their mental well being. As someone with many mental health struggles (autism, depression, anxiety, OCD, etc.), even I sometimes forget to put my mental well being first. With the pressure of school and monetary situations combined, I often overlook myself. However, I find ways to make sure I am well enough to succeed in all other areas of my life, because if my mind is not at my best I will be incapable of performing my best. To stay mentally healthy, I firstly, and most basically, meet with a therapist once a week. I personally believe that most people should have a therapist; even if a person doesn’t have any mental illnesses, having a professional outlet to speak about your day to day stressors and situations is important. My therapist helps me form healthy coping mechanism that I can use in everyday situations, and they help me understand myself and the way my brain works better. Aside from the obvious of going to therapy, I find ways to relax and cope with my issues by myself. As someone with autism, I have had to do a lot of work by myself to unmask and be my genuine self more freely. It helps me to immerse myself in my special interests, or to stim in public, instead of repressing these parts of me. It has taken me almost 15 years of my life to realize that I am autistic, and even longer to get a diagnosis, and throughout this process it has helped immensely to accept this piece of who I am instead of being embarrassed and shoving it away. Every week, I make time between work and school to be able to have “me time”. During these times, I like to have self care/ spa days, where I pamper myself and do my favorite activities (watch movies, play a game I enjoy, read, etc.) This helps me stay in tune with myself, unwind, and not get overwhelmed with work and become too stressed out. If I am too stressed, then it becomes impossible for me to work efficiently. This is something I struggled with a lot my junior year, in which I was taking on too many tasks at once and leaving no time for myself. I believe that when taking care of one’s mental health, it is important that there’s a balance between professional help and self help. This balance helps to stay in tune with one’s self and one’s needs, as well as receiving outside opinions and assistance.