“I’m sorry to tell you, but your daughter may never walk.” These were the words my parents were met with when I was eleven months old. After noticing some developmental delays, they brought me to a doctor, where I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy, a condition I will live with for the rest of my life. By two years old, I couldn’t sit independently, let alone walk. Around that age, I began seeing a new physical therapist, who helped accelerate my progress. He introduced me to my first walker, which was life-changing. My mother encouraged me to use it inside the house and frequently took me on brief walks. I cried. A LOT. She believed in me and wanted me to believe in myself. She also believed our family needed a goal to work toward together. So, the Johnson kids would run their first kids’ fun run in April 2011. My physical therapist worked on balance and walking in a straight line with a walker. A week before the race, my mom spoke with me about the event. She explained that there would be lots of kids running and asked how I would feel if I ended up coming in last. Without hesitation, I joyfully said, “That’s ok! At least I’ll finish!” I was determined to give it my best effort. We completed the race, and it is one of my fondest early childhood memories. Not long after, I took my first unassisted steps. Six years ago, while recovering from major spinal surgery to reduce spasticity in my legs, I set a goal to one day climb the Manitou Incline. The Incline is a rigorous 2,744-step hike that gains 2,000 feet in less than a mile. The trek includes a 3-mile hike down Barr Trail to return to the start. It was an outrageous, lofty goal to set while relearning how to walk. I had never walked more than half a mile consecutively. Despite setbacks, I pressed toward my goal: the girl doctors once believed might never walk would conquer the Manitou Incline. On September 6th, 2025, friends and family gathered at the base of the Incline. With one person on either side of me, we began to ascend. Steadily, we climbed. Left foot, right foot, repeat. Rest. Repeat. A little over two hours later, we reached the summit! It was glorious! Then we collected ourselves to begin the four-hour descent. The uneven, rocky terrain was exhausting. But, with the support of family and friends, we persevered and conquered a literal and figurative mountain that day. For me, hiking the Manitou Incline was more than just completing a trail; it was a milestone that showed me how far I had come, and how far I still have to go. Living with cerebral palsy is not a challenge I have overcome once; it is one that I continue to overcome daily. Even if I have to put in 130% more effort than my peers to reach a goal, I will. If I have to wake up at 5 a.m. just to do my morning routine in time for school, I will. If I have to spend twice the amount of time on homework or doing physical activity, I will. I have learned that my limitations don’t define who I am, but my response to them does. Whatever task is put before me, I choose to do it any way possible. Yes, it is difficult to live with cerebral palsy, but this is the life I have been blessed with, and there’s no other life I would rather be living.

The hallway was silent, but the stress was unmistakable. It was the third day of Girls State, and behind every dorm door was a girl who felt exhausted, overwhelmed, and desperate to prove she belonged. I sat at my desk with a pen and a stack of sticky notes, writing the same three words more than 100 times: You are amazing! I placed a note on every door, hoping those words would remind each girl how much she mattered. Living with cerebral palsy has taught me the importance of showing up for others and encouraging them. Six years ago, while recovering from major spinal surgery to reduce spasticity in my legs, I set a goal to one day climb the Manitou Incline. The Incline is a rigorous 2,744-step hike that gains 2,000 feet in less than a mile. It was an outrageous, lofty goal to set while relearning how to walk. I had never walked more than half a mile consecutively. Over years of physical therapy, setbacks, and perseverance, I learned that goals are not reached alone but are sustained by others who encourage you, especially when progress feels impossible. That lesson shaped how I show up for others. I pressed toward my goal: that the girl whom doctors believed might never walk would conquer the Manitou Incline. At Girls State, I wanted to remind the people around me of their value. As I placed a sticky note on each door, I smiled, knowing those words could lift someone’s spirits. Many were surprised that I chose to spend my limited free time encouraging my peers, especially without any reward, but I did not care about being noticed. I cared about building connections and showing up for others. The next morning, the atmosphere had shifted. People smiled more easily, spoke more kindly to one another, and focused more on connection than competition. Some girls later thanked me for the notes after learning I had placed them, and many kept their sticky notes for future encouragement. I strive to continue Everett Frank’s legacy by choosing, every day, to be a friend, do hard things, and truly live. Whether I am climbing the Incline, skiing, playing the piano, or handwriting encouragement letters, I have learned that living fully means showing up for others with joy and wholeheartedness. Encouragement costs nothing, yet it has the power to change someone’s day, and sometimes, even their life.

Selected Paragraph Plato, The Republic, Book VII (trans. Benjamin Jowett) “And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision–what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them,–will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?” Essay In Book VII of The Republic, Plato introduces the Allegory of the Cave, and in this paragraph, he illustrates prisoners being forced to see “the realities” instead of the shadows that have clouded their minds. This Allegory is often interpreted as the transition from ignorance to knowledge, but its meaning is far deeper. It uncovers that human nature is built to resist discomfort and change. The prisoners do not experience liberation when they are faced with reality, but with “distress, and sharp pains” that will cause them to be resistant and non-conforming to reality. They would rather cling to the shadows as “truer” than reality, because that is what they are comfortable with, and so they refuse to change. Plato asserts that ignorance is caused by the soul’s attachment to familiarity over reality, making internal resistance to truth the root of ignorance. Plato illustrates the prisoner’s distress to demonstrate their attachment to familiarity. First, the prisoners are “compelled suddenly to stand up,” showing that they were comfortable living in illusion, and they had to be forced to see reality. Unfortunately, when they are confronted with reality, they experience “sharp pains” because their belief system that was rooted in the shadows, being reality, has been crushed, and it is uncomfortable for them to admit that they were wrong. Through the prisoners' discomfort, Plato reveals that human nature causes people to want to surround themselves with others who have similar worldviews, so that a person’s beliefs can be confirmed, rather than challenged. This allegory demonstrates that it is painful for the heart and soul to change. Therefore, to resist that discomfort, people would rather shun the evidence and knowledge that reveal reality, and surround themselves with others who will confirm their illusion, than to depart from familiarity and explore reality. This excerpt also reveals that truth is objective, and the reason for ignorance is due to internal resistance to objective truth. If truth were subjective, then there would be nowhere for the prisoners to go outside of the cave, and they would not have to be forced to see reality, because what they saw in the cave would be the full truth. However, by showing that the prisoners are living in an illusion, Plato admits that truth is objective, because truth lies outside of the prisoners’ beliefs about the cave they have been living in. As Plato suggests, it is known that objective truth exists. For example, the study of mathematics shows that objective truth exists because no matter how a person looks at it, two plus two will always equal four. Therefore, it is no longer a question of whether objective truth exists, but whether a person will dare to see it. On this basis, the allegory shows that the reason for ignorance is the resistance of the human heart to being challenged and changed. If a lack of knowledge was the reason for ignorance, the prisoners would be joyful to gain access to the reality outside of the cave, and be glad that they could experience the truth. However, they were resistant to the world outside the cave, and wanted to settle in their subjective reality that the shadows were the truth, because their souls resisted discomfort. Therefore, the reason for ignorance is that the soul avoids change, not a lack of knowledge. Although written thousands of years ago, Plato’s allegory remains a timeless exemplification of human nature today. Similar to how the prisoners’ desire to remain attached to the familiarity of the cave, people today resist truths that challenge their beliefs, so that they can rest in familiarity even though there is a wealth of knowledge. The pain of having to change one’s perspective causes people to retreat into narratives and groups that confirm their beliefs. For example, people are able to curate the content they see on social media by listening to podcasters and using news outlets that uplift their beliefs. People often disregard evidence that challenges their beliefs, and instead look for information that confirms their beliefs, even if contrary evidence is stronger. Despite the vast amount of information available today, many people are still unwilling to face the truth. This shows that ignorance is caused by a resistance of the human heart to change, and not because of a lack of knowledge. In conclusion, this excerpt from The Republic projects a call for action. A call to be a searcher of objective truth, a truth that remains firm despite the twists and turns of cultural pressures. It reveals humans’ weakness of wanting to be comfortable no matter the cost, instead of choosing discomfort to grow. This excerpt demands that people endeavor to open their hearts and minds to objective truth by realizing that their deep-held beliefs might be wrong, and by leaving the familiar for the unfamiliar. It is a call that must be pursued daily with vigor and intention. In this search, one must also examine where the objective truth comes from and whether the objective truth-giver should be trusted. To find truth, one must leave familiarity behind and let one's heart be challenged, because in the end, to know and understand the objective truth is to be set free.