When I first walked into my AP English Language class in 11th grade, I silently took my seat, head down. The bell rang, and my new teacher stood up, introducing herself as Ms. Howie. During the lesson, the TV kept turning off or freezing, and Ms. Howie would yell out in anger, making the class laugh. I could feel the room lighten, the tension leaving entirely. Later, I found that Ms. Howie was a constant overthinker. I recognized myself in her, in the little details she shared. She would also remember small things I shared in discussion, like the instruments I play or my interests. Ms. Howie also founded another class, Peer Mediation, in which seniors were assigned to mentor a freshman who needed help academically. As an AP Lang teacher, she knew exactly how to prep and tailor her argument so we would join, but even then, I never considered it. I didn't think I had what it took. But one day after class, Ms. Howie personally approached me and asked if I was considering joining Peer Mediation. When I said no, she said, “Well, I actually think you’d be a great mentor.” Over the next few weeks, I dwelled on the decision. She somehow thought I was capable, even when I did not. Maybe I didn’t have to doubt myself so much. And ultimately, I found myself approaching her to ask if I could join. Senior year, I was excited, but also terrified at what awaited me 6th period. However, when I met my protégé, Camila, I saw myself, back when I had first stepped into that AP Lang classroom. She hid behind a curtain of hair, eyes down when I said hello. Later, she would reject any help I tried to give. The situation felt hopeless, so I did what I had always been afraid to do. I messaged Ms. Howie for help. She said she would offer an idea she had, and something I really needed to hear. “I’m glad you reached out. You are doing a good job. And I love that you care so much.” Over the next few days, Ms. Howie helped me find solutions. I asked about Camila’s interests, and she slowly opened up, just a little, and we formed a small bond I knew we could build over time. Later, Camila told me that she hesitated to accept help because she thought she shouldn’t need it. I responded that I chose to be in that class willingly, so it was my responsibility. When she asked why I even decided to join, I answered honestly, “Because I know what it's like to struggle and not have anyone there to guide you, or to feel like you can’t get help from anyone. And I thought that if I could help someone not feel that way, then I should do it.” Because that's the reason I truly joined. Not for the good look in college and job applications. Not for the easy A. But because I wanted to step out of my comfort zone and do what I’ve never had the confidence to do. To help people and offer my support in a way that allows me to grow as a person. Somehow, now I walk into that classroom with a confidence I’ve never had before. Because II know that letting go of doubt and believing in myself allows me to do things that seem impossible. And while it's definitely not over, I’m forever grateful that Ms. Howie gave me that little push that I needed to venture into this amazing journey.

Whenever I try to think of where my love for art began, only faint memories come forth, the earliest of me in my mom’s home daycare, where we would do simple crafts with crayons, paper, and glue. As I turned 10, I began exploring other art mediums. I started in pencil, following YouTube tutorials, then moved to simple landscape paintings, and then to using colored pencils. My relatives were always fascinated by my drawings, and would give me new supplies every Christmas and birthday. I became the artist in the family. At school, I tried watercolor and oil pastels. I began diving into digital art, and it quickly became my primary art source because I loved the diversity of it. I gave up on painting when I was 14, mostly because I would copy other artists’ paintings, trying to make them something they were not. However, in my sophomore year of high school, I was forced to come up with an original idea for a project. We were given paintings that were started by past students who had to leave them after the pandemic, and now we were to choose one and turn it into something new. As I looked around at the paintings, one caught my eye. It was a sunset, with golden yellows, oranges, and a hint of pale blue. It was only the top half that was painted, so I began looking at it in different ways to see what else I could change it to. And then I saw it. The shape of a bird's beak, after which came the eyes and the head, hidden within the depths of the clouds. In a surge of inspiration, I decided to paint my favorite animal, a kingfisher. Painting things I loved, like animals and nature, helped my love for the subject shine through. I felt a lot more connected to it, like something that was truly my own, as opposed to how it was when I didn’t know how to. The kingfisher became my favorite piece of art I’d ever created. Not just because it proved that I could indeed make a good painting, but because it showed my passions, my interests, and what I found beautiful. I rediscovered my love for painting, and now do it regularly. I also adore going to art museums to look at the masters’ pieces in person. My absolute favorite artist is Vincent Van Gogh, whose paintings are the first I look for in museums. The love and passion he poured into his works, even as his life spiraled out of control, is something I find so inspiring and tend to strive for. My favorite quote is one by Van Gogh: “I want to touch people with my art. I want them to say 'he feels deeply, he feels tenderly'.” I’ve never connected so deeply with a quote like this one, and it perfectly encapsulates what I never realized I wanted to do with my art. I want my creations to become a representation of me and the way I see the world through my unique lens. Whether it's with my paintings, my drawings, or even my writing, I hope that people will be able to see me through my work and to be able to find beauty in it, just as I have time and time again.