I am thrilled to be pursuing an education and career in architecture. My mom's dream was to be an architect, but her parents did not support that, so she ended up being a teacher. My entire life, I watched her point out different architectural features and what design period they were from. She had us tour different historical houses throughout the country. With all this exposure, architecture has always been an interest of mine. I would make up sketches for homes and dance studios, using my imagination, some math, and graphing to complete those just for fun. This field has become my personal dream, not just my mother's. I am fortunate enough to be supported in this decision, despite it delaying the kickoff of my career. I am ready to take risks. The university I am currently attending does not have an architecture program. However, I have realized this passion is important enough to me that I am transferring to a university with a distinguished architecture program. This will require me to attend a minimum of two more years of school than initially planned. I know this is the correct decision for me because of the strengths I already have and the eagerness I feel to make them stronger. I feel more complete when I am learning and growing in multiple different aspects of my life. Being a student-athlete in a different major for the current year has been a challenge in its own way, but I am ready to be challenged academically. A plethora of reasons come to mind when considering why this will be a fulfilling profession. I will be given the platform to express my creativity in both a functional and satisfying way. Buildings are brought into existence from the origin of a thought, which then go on to make a compelling impact, which brings another point. As an architect, I will make a difference to the surrounding communities around each structure and to every employee I network with. I am excited for this collaboration with professionals in engineering and contracting fields, and with the clients/ individuals have the building made as well. Their ideas may conflict with what is structurally possible or ethical. I am prepared to combat this with problem-solving, creating innovative solutions to any obstacle. This is a career where new ideas, updates, and possibilities arise every day. I get to continue growing as a human and a professional, while making my clients’ and my own dreams a reality.

I began struggling with mental health at the age of ten, after the suicide of my neighbor and close family friend. My personal struggles and journey through telling someone, therapy, and eventually medication and routine changes has motivated me to be there for others if the same struggles occur for them. When I began experiencing depressive thoughts, mental health wasn’t a common topic in the community, which made me feel crazy for thinking that way, and didn’t motivate me to tell anyone. Thanks to my dad’s constant reminders of “If you ever feel that way, talk to someone,” I got help. But not everyone is that lucky. My goal that I’ve achieved but will never completely fulfill is for others to understand they are not alone in their thoughts, and things CAN get better. Making mental health a common topic of conversation leads to less people feeling crazy for experiencing it. It also creates easier access and knowledge of the available resources to help. For many years now, I’ve strove to make mental health communication and destigmatization a “normal” part of my lifestyle. Aside from that, I’ve created posters and hung them up all over my school and district. They share messages that I know would’ve helped me. Some are thought-provoking for those who don’t struggle, so they may be inclusive, understanding, and provide a listening ear to those they love. Some classmates called me weird or a “snowflake” (sensitive person) for putting them up. I disregarded this, as I want to be a leader in starting the conversation around my community. Social media is another great way I’ve shared resources, as well as coping mechanisms I’ve picked up on myself. I am a fashion-lover with lots of followers probably just for my looks. I lose followers any time I post about mental health. This does not matter. I do not need followers that are going to be offended by it. Rather, I need my followers that are struggling in silence to know that someone cares. When a classmate of mine lost his battle with depression last fall, I ordered 700 custom bracelets (with the help of a grant) with the classmate’s name,the hotline number, and the line, “you are not alone.” Myself and his friends handed these out as students walked into school one morning. It was wonderful to just have students begin their day with that message. Wether they saw it as honoring their friend, or saw us handing them out and providing a face-to-face example of someone with similar struggles, this can make them feel important. The most beautiful part of all of it was, though, when one student walked past us handing them out and said, “No, thanks.” His friend later showed him what it said, and he came running back asking if he could still have one. My school is building a committee to begin next fall purely based upon mental health help within the school. I am incredibly excited to work with it as a student that has struggled myself, alongside other similar students, and those who just care, to provide the most understanding environment we can, with first-hand experiences to work with. We will strive to constantly talk about this issue, so students are not afraid to ask for that extra push they need to get back to feeling like their greatest selves. I have chosen myself to do these things so I can be the person I never had, as well as being that voice of “If you ever feel that way, talk to someone,” for someone that needs to hear it.

I began struggling with mental health at the age of ten, after the suicide of my neighbor and close family friend. My personal struggles and journey through telling someone, therapy, and eventually medication and routine changes has motivated me to be there for others if the same struggles occur for them. When I began experiencing depressive thoughts, mental health wasn’t a common topic in the community, which made me feel crazy for thinking that way, and didn’t motivate me to tell anyone. Thanks to my dad’s constant reminders of “If you ever feel that way, talk to someone,” I got help. But not everyone is that lucky. My goal that I’ve achieved but will never completely fulfill is for others to understand they are not alone in their thoughts, and things CAN get better. Making mental health a common topic of conversation leads to less people feeling crazy for experiencing it. It also creates easier access and knowledge of the available resources to help. For many years now, I’ve strove to make mental health communication and destigmatization a “normal” part of my lifestyle. Aside from that, I’ve created posters and hung them up all over my school and district. They share messages that I know would’ve helped me. Some are thought-provoking for those who don’t struggle, so they may be inclusive, understanding, and provide a listening ear to those they love. Some classmates called me weird or a “snowflake” (sensitive person) for putting them up. I disregarded this, as I want to be a leader in starting the conversation around my community. Social media is another great way I’ve shared resources, as well as coping mechanisms I’ve picked up on myself. I am a fashion-lover with lots of followers probably just for my looks. I lose followers any time I post about mental health. This does not matter. I do not need followers that are going to be offended by it. Rather, I need my followers that are struggling in silence to know that someone cares. When a classmate of mine lost his battle with depression last fall, I ordered 700 custom bracelets (with the help of a grant) with the classmate’s name,the hotline number, and the line, “you are not alone.” Myself and his friends handed these out as students walked into school one morning. It was wonderful to just have students begin their day with that message. Wether they saw it as honoring their friend, or saw us handing them out and providing a face-to-face example of someone with similar struggles, this can make them feel important. The most beautiful part of all of it was, though, when one student walked past us handing them out and said, “No, thanks.” His friend later showed him what it said, and he came running back asking if he could still have one. My school is building a committee to begin next fall purely based upon mental health help within the school. I am incredibly excited to work with it as a student that has struggled myself, alongside other similar students, and those who just care, to provide the most understanding environment we can, with first-hand experiences to work with. We will strive to constantly talk about this issue, so students are not afraid to ask for that extra push they need to get back to feeling like their greatest selves. I have chosen myself to do these things so I can be the person I never had, as well as being that voice of “If you ever feel that way, talk to someone,” for someone that needs to hear it.

I’ve been dancing since the age of four, when my mom forced me to take a ballet class at my first studio since her friend’s daughter, Alex was doing it. Years zoom by, Alex quit, and I was training in almost all the genres, my favorite becoming tap. When I was 8, I tried out for a competitive team, just to experience and audition, because my older sister was. Much to my family’s surprise, I ended up making it. My dancing in the kitchen, yard, and bedroom wouldn’t stop. The kitchen table was shoved against one wall, as well as all my bedroom furniture. I didn’t care as long as I could dance. Competitive dance became my thing, and I wasn’t half bad either. By the age of ten, though, I had depression. Dance was no longer something I looked forward to, and I told myself that I sucked. My parents had me quit competing, but would not let me drop out, because they knew their little dancing girl was still in there somewhere. After one year of only recreational classes, they signed me up for a program of “less-commitment” competition. I excelled and my talents were greatly showcased. My confidence was boosted and I was getting mental health help. Things were only going up from there. But then the next year, I had to stay in the lower-commitment program. I wanted to go back up to where I was! I wanted to dance all the time again! I went into that next year of the lower program with a negative attitude. All I wanted was to be on the “good team.” My sister, however, completely changed the outcome I had set out for myself that year. We were teammates for the first time ever! She was funny in class, yet still productive. She was a great example, but I still got to be in the front a lot too, and I knew I wouldn’t at the higher level. That team enjoyed the genuine art of dancing, trying our best, and continuing to live our lives outside of dance, too. It opened a new perspective to me, and I gained so much respect for those girls. The next year, I was still determined to be on the higher team, so I auditioned. I made it! It was now my freshman year, and I was finally reunited with my teammates from fifth grade. I noticed some of them changed. Some of them began to only care about their spot in the formation, how many groups they were cast in, or if their solo won a special title. I was grateful to be dancing after I had achieved a goal of being back, instead of continuing to do an expensive and very committed sport with no gratitude or understanding of the art. I was doing it for myself only. I wasn’t cast in all the bonus routines, and I wasn’t always in the front. It didn’t matter to me because my teammates recognized that I was kind, and my instructors gave me compliments, as well as constructive criticism to help me grow, meaning they believed in me. I still dance in my kitchen almost everyday and I am now seventeen. I truly believe this is because I appreciate dance’s meaning. As dance allows me to express my emotions, I never want to stop doing it. With college approaching, my biggest dream would be dancing with the St.Olaf Dance Team in Minnesota, and participating in their other wonderful dance and arts programs that help all those interested continue to pursue their passion.

Mental health has been a prominent struggle in my life ever since I was ten years old. My life-long neighbor and friend passed away to suicide. I vividly remember the night, having heard the gunshot myself. Once I found out what I heard, my mindset never returned to how it was before. Since that experience, I’ve personally struggled with anxiety, depression, and extreme depressive episodes. At first, I could only tell my dad that my thoughts had wandered to, “What is the meaning of life?” “Is [neighbor’s name] happier now?” “Why don’t I have fun anymore?” I was only 10 but matured rapidly after the event, struggling to find excitement around me. My dad and I agreed to try find me a therapist. I didn’t tell any friends about my struggles until I was twelve, because I thought I was crazy. When I eventually told some, they were kind, but weren’t sure what to say, since that topic wasn’t often talked about. This made me believe they didn’t care, so I distanced myself from them, which continued to tear me apart. The following school year, I made mental health more casual in my conversations, and my friends adjusted to it. I still remember that year as one of my favorites, because I no longer felt crazy. Some people even related to me and felt better that they weren’t the only ones. Others learned new things and began to understand that sometimes “laziness,” or “quietness,” is just a lack of motivation caused by depression, and “obsessing over one thing” can be anxiety trying to make sure nothing goes wrong. That year, I learned that making mental health a casual topic helped myself and others immensely. I also began using social media at that same time, and would use my profiles to share what I had learned the hard way, which I continue doing to this day. That year marked incredible progress, but certainly didn’t mean my journey with mental health was over. Everyday poses new challenges. Thoughts race through my head repeatedly; I was able to tame this in some ways with tips from my first therapist, including to write down any worries so that I know I won’t forget them and don’t have to repeat it. Once I was older, I was prescribed to medication. The first medication actually made my depressive thoughts more aggressive. I then switched to another kind, and finally felt that my thoughts could be controlled and even used to their advantage. I never relied on it, as some fear would happen. To me, the risk was worth it, as I had people around me doing their best to ensure I was safe with the medication. As the topic of mental health grows in popularity, the goal is that more support will be provided for all, so they feel that they can tell someone they’re struggling and begin the first steps towards recovery and positive thoughts. I’ve noticed many around me struggle, and know others certainly do in secret, which is why I do my best to be an advocate. Last fall, I lost a classmate to depression. The event hit close to home, and I immediately messaged the counselor I previously worked on mental health support with to provide advice and a listening ear for the classmate’s friends, and allow anyone struggling in the community to feel heard. My goal and personal life lesson will always be that making the issue “normal” is incredibly important with mental health, which has helped me use my weakness as a strength, and live a functioning and fulfilling life.