Congratulations to Our 2024 Scholarship Winners!

I have been known as the perfect daughter, sister, student, and friend throughout my life. Maintaining my relationships, social life, and academics almost consumed me entirely. Giving my all to other people for their validation and happiness, I completely lost myself. Although others assumed my life was perfect due to my excellence in academics and sports, witnessing within myself and my own life it all seemed empty. I had no reason, motivation, or determination to do anything for myself. The only valid reason I could think of was parental validation.

Being a child of a brown-immigrant family you are given a stack of societal norms and expectations you are expected to live with. The constant comparison with your surroundings makes you feel like you are always less than everyone else. Feeling like your accomplishments will never be enough, you eventually realize nothing you do will ever please them. Your all A’s should have been A+’s, your 2 soccer goals should have been 3, showcasing that your success will never be enough. I tried to be the best version of myself, but it was never enough. As my reason for my success was never for myself, slowly all my purposes seemed faint. Not only did I lose my smile, happiness, and character but most importantly I lost my purpose.

No longer did I want to wake up, eat, or even move. I was depressed; but how can you explain to your Indian mom that you don’t feel good mentally? My problems and weaknesses were never heard unless they involved physical pain. As I tried multiple times, my issues never made sense to my family. This led to frustration and anger as I felt ignored and misunderstood. I always felt they were the ones who destroyed my mental health, but I slowly started to see that I let them affect me to the point in my life where I feel depressed. The issues are mine, so there is no one to blame but me. Coming to terms with this mindset, I decided to make a change.

Firstly, I had to find that purpose and dedication that I lacked my entire life. Finding a desire that pushes me and changing the negative perceptions I had with everything in my life allowed me to slowly overcome all my challenges. Realizing that my issues were so little compared to what others have faced, especially my parents, made my problems seem trivial which allowed my confidence to move forward. Learning about my parents struggles, hardwork, and ambition to set a new life for me explained their behaviour. After they left their home, to seek a better lifestyle for me all they expected from me was the same dedication in securing a life for myself that they had shown. All I was doing wrong was, I looked at their expectations for me in a negative perspective. My parents just want me to be the best version of myself, and be a hardworking and successful individual to honor their sacrifices.

Although this experience was really harsh and a difficult time for me, as I felt I had lost myself, in the end I was able to emerge as a much stronger individual. Being able to discover who I really am, and what my purpose is allowed me to look at my life with a positive approach. Overcoming all negative issues with determination and resilience I was able to showcase my mental strength and abilities, which I thought had been lost. However, all I had to do was find them. Utilizing my story and experiences of mental health, not only do I hope to inspire and help those first generation students overcome adversities like mine, but also I hope to promote positivity to fight major issues like mental health.

My sophomore and junior high school water polo team was like a family. Many of us would get together outside practice on the weekends, doing whatever came first to our minds. We bonded in a way like no other, causing me to remain close friends with most of my teammates even two years later. Occasionally, we would talk about water polo and how we felt we performed at our last game. During one-on-one conversations, many of the girls mentioned that they believe they perform better at practices than during our games. When I asked why, they said it was because they get too nervous and forget what to do during a game. Many of my teammates had only played water polo a year or two before being pulled to varsity. I had been playing since I was 12. I understood the issue of forgetting plays and the lack of awareness during a game when I first started. Water polo is a complicated sport that requires focus and attention to detail. I continued to struggle with performance anxiety during my high school career, even though it was lessened because of my years of experience.

I talked with my captains about how mental health issues were affecting our team and they agreed we should let our coaches know. This was my first action in tackling mental health issues at my high school. Soon after we told our coaches, we had a meeting after practice. All of the players sat down in a classroom and answered questions on a note card anonymously. These questions included; How do you feel you performed at the last game? And what is your biggest fear when you're playing? Since most of my conversations with my teammates were private many of them did not realize they were not alone in their anxiety. Our coach then read our answers out loud. Most girls were surprised to hear that their answers were almost identical. We realized that many of us were close friends but at different skill levels. We did not want to let each other down and cost the team a win. We talked about how we would not judge and how we are all here for each other, encouraging girls to ask questions and assure them that it is okay to slow the game down during practice. I reiterated that everyone had been there before; completely clueless in the water like a deer in headlights.

This activity inspired me to take a role in my high school mental health club to combat the mental health stigma and let people know they are not alone. I joined Club 55 (my school’s mental health club) as a sophomore and took a leadership position in my senior-year as the secretary. We host meetings every month to talk about mental health. We cover topics such as anxiety, depression, and how to deal with extreme amounts of stress by demonstrating breathing exercises. As officers, we make sure to be open with our club members, sharing some of our own struggles so it will create a more open environment. I also work alongside my officer team to host community service events. Our next planned event is with the SPCA animal shelter before finals week. During this event, students will be able to relax with animals to help with their stress about the upcoming week.      

I too have struggled with mental health issues. At one point or another, many people have dealt with extreme stress, anxiety, depression, etc. People must know they are not alone and there are resources to help. I took advantage of mine by going to therapy, something I have found incredibly helpful. I encourage others who are struggling to also reach out and find a therapist. Those of my friends who have utilized therapy found it useful and enjoyed it. I hope to continue my work to end the mental health stigma by joining a club in college that promotes advocacy. I also plan to major in public health, something that promotes health advocacy and open conversations. In time, I hope to see mental health become a conversation that people are not ashamed of and can talk about openly.

Just a little over a year ago, I lost my cousin and once best friend, Weston, due to suicide. We were born about six months apart and our moms were always together. Therefore, Weston was my first friend. Not by choice of course but, soon enough, it became one. We got older and managed to stay close, so close that we once argued like brother and sister. High school came, and we drifted apart, but no matter when, where, or what, we had each other’s backs.

Sunday, August 21, 2022 came. The day I catch myself trying to forget about. The day I received a call no one is ever ready to experience. Weston’s mom called me and broke the news to me in these few words I’ll never forget: “Thank you for being the older sister my boy never had. He loved you so much. Please don’t ever forget that.” She ended the call with an abrupt hang-up that I found out was her not wanting me to hear her cry. I sat there in my bed with no emotion at first. It felt so unreal. Memory after memory was what kept running through my mind. In a sense, there were no more memories that got to be made. For months, I found myself asking questions that I’ll never get the answers to.

Not only did my world come crashing down, I watched everyone in my family come crashing down as well. We were only a few days into school, my junior year, the one that’s supposed to be most important. In my case, school took the back burner for quite some time. I couldn’t bring myself to walk in the school hallways and classrooms and act like nothing happened. Up until the point of losing my cousin, I never experienced mental health issues. That all changed. I was burying my feelings deep down, so nobody knew that I was struggling myself. In my eyes, it seemed selfish to need help at the same time that everyone was grieving him.

I fell really behind in school, something that had been one of my main priorities since freshman year. My attendance got pretty terrible. I couldn’t make it through a whole day without crying, so I would just leave. At the time, I didn’t see it, but I think that was my way of trying to show my parents I needed help without having to admit it. Unfortunately, my parents didn’t see that until I dealt with it myself. I started to find little things I could connect to Weston. That helped me get back on track in staying at school for the whole day and fixing my grades. It was a little too late at that point in the first semester, as you can see on my transcript.

Learning that it was okay to not be okay was difficult for me. However, I’m grateful that I was able to preserve and learn those qualities, even though the circumstances I had to learn them under were horrible. It made me who I am today. I no longer take days for granted, and I try to find something to enjoy every day. This whole experience made my heart bigger. I hate seeing people hurt because of other people’s cruel words or actions. I’ve also learned to be more of a forgiving person. It is everyone's first time living life, and making mistakes is how you learn.

In his book Together, Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy explores the profound impact of loneliness, particularly among adolescents. As the Co-Chair of my county’s Youth Commission, tasked with fostering positive change in our community, I have spearheaded numerous initiatives aimed at promoting mental health and well-being among my peers.                 

Amidst the challenges posed by the pandemic, I came to a stark realization: even the most lighthearted memes couldn't alleviate the depths of my friends' struggles with mental health. It became evident that offering support sometimes necessitated uncomfortable conversations, such as urging friends to open up to their parents about their depression. Recognizing the urgent need to destigmatize mental health issues, our Commission embarked on a mission to initiate tangible change.

One of our first endeavors was the organization of Wellness Week, an event designed to raise awareness and create conversations surrounding mental health. Armed with wristbands and a robust social media campaign, we sought to challenge prevailing stigmas and encourage individuals to prioritize their mental well-being. However, as we reflected on our efforts, it became apparent that we were merely scratching the surface of what could be achieved.

Driven by a commitment to data-driven decision-making, we delved into the Student Behavioral Health Incentive Program survey data. Our analysis revealed that a significant number of students turned to their peers as the first point of contact when grappling with mental health challenges. Reflecting on my own experiences, I realized the profound impact that supportive friendships had on my personal growth. For example, I wouldn’t have thrived academically without my friends laughing at my unfunny jokes or studying with me at Starbucks. It dawned on me that not every student was fortunate enough to forge such connections naturally, leaving many to navigate their struggles alone through no fault of their own. It was painful to see other students lacking that support and suffering in isolation.

With these insights, we devised a groundbreaking solution: the implementation of Peer Advocacy programs tailored to each school campus. Through comprehensive training covering a spectrum of mental health topics, peer advocates would be equipped to provide invaluable support and guidance to their fellow students. These advocates would serve as mentors, filling the gaps left by traditional mentorship programs like Link Crew and offering a lifeline to those in need.

Presenting our proposal before the Board of Supervisors and the county Superintendent of Schools, we were met with overwhelming support. Recognizing the urgency of addressing mental health challenges among youth, they readily approved funding to support the implementation of Peer Advocacy programs across schools. Dr. Murthy's assertion that "human relationships are as essential to our well-being as food and water" resonated deeply with our mission. By fostering meaningful connections and providing a safe space for students to confide in their peers, Peer Advocacy programs catalyzed a ripple effect of positive change within our community.

Reflecting on my involvement in this project, I am filled with a profound sense of pride. By challenging stigmas surrounding mental health and championing peer support networks, we have taken meaningful steps towards creating a more inclusive and supportive environment for all individuals. As we continue to navigate the complexities of adolescence and beyond, I am committed to leveraging my experiences to advocate for the prioritization of mental health and well-being in our society.

In addition to our efforts on the Youth Commission, I have personally undertaken steps to reduce the stigma surrounding mental health issues in various aspects of my life. As a friend, I have made it a priority to actively listen and provide non-judgmental support to those who confide in me about their struggles. I have also taken the initiative to educate myself on mental health through online resources and workshops such as the Youth Advocacy Initiative and California Youth Advocacy Network, equipping myself with the knowledge and skills to effectively support others.

Furthermore, I have sought opportunities to engage in open conversations about mental health in my school and local community. Whether through hosting awareness events or simply starting conversations with my peers, I have strived to create safe and welcoming spaces where individuals feel comfortable discussing their mental health without fear of judgment. These efforts have not only helped to raise awareness but have also encouraged others to speak up and seek help when needed.

Beyond my immediate community, I have also used my platform on social media to advocate for mental health awareness and destigmatization. By sharing personal stories, resources, and messages of support, I have sought to reach a wider audience and spark meaningful conversations about mental health on a larger scale. Through these collective actions, I believe that we can gradually break down the barriers and misconceptions surrounding mental health, ultimately creating a more compassionate and understanding society for all.

Envision a thunderstorm rolling in without warning. Like lightning jarring, tics can strike at any moment and disrupt one’s daily life. The buildup of tension culminates in compulsions that leave you exhausted. Tourette's is precisely like a thunderstorm, an unpredictable burst of energy that can lead to chaos if not adequately controlled. That’s what living with Tourettes is like—the sensation of unwanted impulses arising at lightning speed. Diagnosed at just five years old, I dealt with uncontrollable vocal and motor tics – head jerks, blinks, twitches, and various sounds that arose without warning. Any sense of serenity I felt was fleeting as a compulsion disrupted it, causing me to feel trapped in a never-ending cycle.

The constant lack of control over my own body took a massive toll on my mental health. Not only that, but the amount of shame I felt from having this condition was unbearable. As a child, I used to pray for God to “fix” me and make me “normal”, which is something no kid should ever have to deal with. The tension I felt from suppressing my tics left me with severe anxiety. I was extremely self conscious and dreaded going to school where I felt unable to fit in. My self esteem suffered The secrecy and shame around my Tourette’s alongside the judgment I faced from peers and strangers often made me feel isolated and ashamed. My self esteem suffered from the constant fear of being judged by others, leaving me feeling trapped inside a defective body.

As I got older, I slowly became a perfectionist as a way to cope with my disorder. I tried to control the uncontrollable aspects of tics in my own way. I put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to get perfect grades and be a star athlete in an attempt to compensate for my differences, but this only created more anxiety within me. If anything, this toxic mindset made things worse. My inability to control my tics despite controlling all other parts of my life left behind a dehumanizing feeling. For years I suffered from imposter syndrome. My achievements never seemed like enough. I was wrecked by the fear that I would be “outed” as an imposter if I lost control of my tics publicly and was terrified of the fact that people would see me differently.

During my sophomore year of highschool, I discovered CBIT, Comprehensive Behavioral Intervention for Tics. Here, I learned how to recognize my urges and use reversal techniques to minimize the frequency of the compulsions, giving me a sense of control I never previously had. My newfound capability to resist the urges granted me a feeling of empowerment. Although this did not “cure” me from my disorder, it taught me that with a positive mindset, things will get better.

I am 18 now and I have grown immensely from these experiences. My former self would’ve considered tourettes my most substantial flaw. Through self-reflection, I discern that’s not the case. The attributes I’ve gained from it are strengths that set me apart, allowing me to be more open about my struggles and break the stigma regarding tics and mental health. As draining as my condition was, it gave me a priceless realization: a bad attitude is a recipe for continued misery. By fostering a positive mindset, I was able to give myself grace and embrace my differences. I now surround myself with people who will unconditionally support me regardless of my disorder. Not only has my journey with mental health tested my resilience, but it's also provided me with the skills needed to drive success in all areas of life. My mental health journey continues, but I am blessed that I have made progress in learning to accept myself for who I am.

The era of stigmatizing mental health issues has gone on far too long, and has cost too many lives, including my father’s. My dad was presumed to have ADHD and Bipolar disorder, although neither were diagnosed due to how small a priority mental health was when he was young. Checking up on your mental health did not seem cool to him and likely was a source of shame. It never seemed like his mental health was considered by others, especially since he fished, played guitar, and lived just like anyone else. This very quickly changed when he had to start taking pain medication, and when combined with him abusing marijuana, he couldn’t function normally. By the time family members and friends felt his condition was bad enough to treat, it was already too late. He was up all night, speaking nonsense, and couldn’t act normal, leading to him having a psychotic break. We will never know what truly happened during that episode, but it ended with my father dead, and he took my grandfather with him. The “hush hush” tone around the urgency of mental health cost me two family members. He could have gotten treatment for his issues, but instead nobody felt comfortable acknowledging them, even though discussing mental health helps people be seen and feel less alone. Now, the blanket of grief would be carried onto the rest of my family, meaning that the silence around mental health did not fix the issues, rather caused it to be continued and brought onto others.

Finding out about how my dad died not only was shocking, but also reaffirmed that the worst possible scenarios could happen. I have had anxiety my whole life, and before I received support I had gotten good at managing my thoughts and calming myself out of most spirals. The way my dad died was awful beyond what I could imagine and in a way, validated any absurd thoughts I had. Having a single parent is also very difficult, and has put extra pressure and responsibilities on me to help out my family. Knowing how quickly my dad went from an average guy to becoming someone completely different motivated me to protect my own mental health. Like many others who struggle with anxiety and disordered eating, I find it easy to default to “it’s not that bad, I do not need to worry about it”. I now know the cost of ignoring it. I always make sure I take time out of my schedule to care for my mind and body. I do yoga, research coping mechanisms, and read books related to my issues. I also surround myself with the most open minded and accepting friends I could ask for. I know that if I was struggling, my wellbeing wouldn't be ignored. They all would be happy to support me in whatever way I need, just as I would for them. I want people to know that they are not alone in their struggles, and that recognizing mental health problems and their severity allows people to connect and get the help they need. Nobody deserves to struggle so much that they can quickly escalate into a psychotic break. They should feel comfortable getting help before then and preventing any further struggles.

I am very lucky to have been able to attend therapy for my issues. Maintaining my mental health is just as important as maintaining my physical health, so I feel very privileged that my mother was willing to pay for part of my therapy. The understanding of mental health has changed in my family since my father’s incident, and I believe it should change for all of society, too. My family was more open minded to me being in counseling and getting help, but even in such an open minded family, I still get nervous sharing my struggles and keep things from anyone not immediately connected with me. It's almost like the stigma around mental health clouds people’s better judgment. One may not ever hear about mental health struggles, but just because the struggles are silent does not mean that they aren’t challenging, or even deadly. Many people face their own problems, as well as carry the grief of those around them who’ve lost their battles. My dad is an example of how perception differs from reality. Everyone should be able to get the help they need, nothing should be put off or dismissed due to certain factors. While I cannot change the past, I will continue to value my wellbeing as well as the wellbeing of those around me. Loss is a normal part of life, but I cannot afford to lose someone else I love and care about because of something that could have been helped or prevented. Even though my dad’s death caused lots of stress, and affected my entire household dynamic, it did allow me to realize how precious life is, and how I should take my struggles seriously. Whenever my eating habits get worse or I start losing my self worth and sociability again, I refocus and have checks in place to make myself feel more stable. The skills and experiences I have gained, combined with the challenges I have faced, will hopefully help me be resilient, handle stress well in college, and keep my mind healthy.

Growing up in a Conservative-Catholic household there was neither a conversation about boyfriends and most certainly none about girlfriends. During my sophomore year of high school, I was experiencing a change and discovery of not only myself but also my sexuality, one that I had to experience on my own. It wasn’t until the school year's end that the people I believed to be my friends decided to stop hanging out with me because of my relationship with a girl. With all this stress and hurt on my shoulders, I decided that the only thing left to do was seek help and open up to my parents. Despite their support, several cultural barriers made it hard to explain my profound emptiness. I quickly sank into a depression and would isolate myself in my room, fearing I had disappointed my family. School gradually became difficult for me to focus on, although it was something I was naturally interested in. What no one talks about is how hard it could actually be to open up about struggling with mental health; the anxiety of being a burden to a friend because you know they are also dealing with their own hardships or the foreboding thought that what you’re saying wouldn’t be understood or taken seriously.     

Summer had arrived but those desolate thoughts never left. I became emotionally exhausted with my consistent feelings of unhappiness. My body finally reacted to this, as I developed sinus infections from crying so often and lost a large amount of weight. I felt trapped in a cycle of suffering every day until I decided to see a therapist. After months of weekly sessions, things got a little easier. Pouring out my thoughts to a stranger was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. If I couldn't talk to my parents about what I was feeling, I wasn’t sure what a stranger could do for me. Nevertheless, it helped me profoundly. There were times when I encountered difficulties and even felt that treatment would not help. I immediately realized that sharing how I felt and receiving insightful feedback taught me how to communicate effectively. I learned how to express my feelings without being scared and what to do in the face of adversity. I even educated my parents more about mental health and spoke openly with them about my experiences.

I went from a girl who spent an entire session helplessly crying over the perception that nothing would change, to a woman who looked forward to waking up the next day. I persevered through something a lot of young people my age, unfortunately, have a hard time getting through. I learned that I love music and photography, as well as self-motivation and fictional stories. But most importantly, I learned that I admire helping others and expressing myself freely. I would, too, become a clinical psychologist remembering the girl who pondered nonexistence at night, the girl who prayed to find someone who would be able to understand herself on a deeper level. I am dedicated to a future of helping people who struggle internally. I am now continuing my psychology studies through a dual enrollment class provided at my high school, and I am an active member of a club that discusses subjects and arranges events to educate kids about the mental health stigma. I intend to intern at a Social Services Department this summer to gain hands-on experience in clinical psychology before leaving for college. Even though the bad days aren’t guaranteed to naturally go away, I believe I'm better equipped to deal with particular situations and have grown emotionally.

It was near the end of my sophomore year the night I came out to my parents and lost my closest friends. The tribulation, although I didn’t see it at the time, helped me to grow into the woman I am today and the woman I’ve always hoped to be. I hope that by obtaining a Ph.D. in clinical psychology one day, I might encourage those who have felt the same way, show them that there is a future for them, and hopefully lead the next generation to a greater understanding of mental health. Although helping one young girl or boy may not change the entire world, it could change the world for that one person.

In recent years, the mental health struggles of adolescents have increased at an alarming rate. As a teenager myself, I’ve witnessed the true impact of the increasing statistics. I noticed some of my friends disappearing from classes and school altogether. In many of the clubs I participated in, fellow officers broke down into tears as their tasks overwhelmed them. People that I recalled being among the liveliest and outgoing students began to sink back into their chairs as the teacher posed questions. Suddenly, numbers recited by experts weren’t just figures on paper, but very real experiences. People that I cared about and admired were hit with immense challenges and diagnoses ranging from anxiety to schizophrenia.

At first, I didn’t really understand what was going on. The topic of mental health still remains a taboo in many cultures and social settings. Resources for students are sparsely discussed at my school, and the school psychologist is hidden in a closet-like room that many pass without even noticing. Even though I wasn’t struggling with mental health myself, I sensed the stigmatization of those around me who were, but I had no idea how to stop it.

It wasn’t until I took AP Psychology that everything started to make sense. I learned about the different types of mental disorders and therapies in practice. Intrigued by the intricacies of the connections between the brain and human behavior, I began to explore more specific concepts and examples in my freetime, and fell into a rabbit hole of psychology articles, Youtube videos, and published studies. I expanded my understanding of psychological concepts by enrolling in college courses and exploring the related fields of cognitive and neurological sciences through online resources. In searching for answers, I found the topic that sparked my intellectual curiosity, and was absolutely hooked. I quickly developed a desire to continue learning about these subjects, and formed my career aspirations around this interest. Soon enough, I was searching for more opportunities to explore psychology and the brain sciences. I reached out to my teacher to see if he knew of anything accessible. Yet, our searches were unsuccessful. The opportunities we stumbled upon were costly summer programs that my family could not afford.

Then, opportunity struck. In spring of my junior year, I received a nomination to participate in Pioneer Academics’ online research program with a full-ride scholarship in the concentration of clinical psychology. Thrilled, I immediately got to work and spent countless hours crafting my research paper and intently participating in Zoom sessions. In the end, my paper proposed a study that analyzed the stigma associated with the use of certain models of mental disorder attribution. I got to observe the positive impact that education and research in this field can truly have on individuals through reviewing previous literature and developing my own ideas.

My personal experience continues to inspire me to learn about psychology and its related fields as I pursue higher education. I want to continue to sharpen my understanding of psychology and how its concepts impact our communities so that I can make a difference in the lives of individuals. As I take the next step of pursuing higher education, I plan to major in brain and cognitive science at MIT where I will be matriculating as a freshman next fall. After my undergraduate studies, I hope to pursue a career in the medical field, specializing in neurology or psychology. My goal is to use the amazing resources and opportunity to study as such an influential institution to help contribute to the field in a way that enhances the conversation about mental health, proves that anyone can make a difference, and contributes towards the gradual de-stigmatization of the topic for people who hail from diverse backgrounds and experiences.

Ever since I was a child, mental health was seen as something in my family as stupid or a lie. Growing up my parents never taught me and my siblings about what mental health was or that it was something that we should cherish and take care of. I had first heard of mental health, when my older sister had gone to college and studied psychology. She had always explained to me what she learned and what was fascinating to her. This created a whole new world of knowledge because everything she explained to me about psychology was of interest to me. As a result of this when I entered high school, I had seen a club called the NAMI club which stood for the National Alliance on Mental Illness, and it was one of the many clubs we had on campus. I did not pay much attention to this club because I was unsure if it was something that I wanted to be a part of. But, when I was in my Psychology class, I heard my teacher explain what the club was about, which was mental health and psychology. I was interested in this because I always had an interest in Psychology, since my sister explained it to me. But for me unfortunately I was enclosed and was anti-social, so I was scared to join. But, one day I was going through lots of hardships at home and I talked to my psychology teacher and he introduced me to a counselor, Mr. Miramingos. When I had talked to him he explained to me that he was one of the advisors for the NAMI club and this was the gateway to my mental health journey. I was introduced to the officers of the club and the other advisors and this allowed me to take my first step into mental health.

Ever since I had made that first step to talk to someone about my problems I have been able to be a part of NAMI and change so many lives at my school. Through NAMI I have been able to hold 3 officer positions being a TA advisor, vice-president, and now president. Throughout the years of being in the NAMI club I have been able to plan monthly events regarding spreading awareness on mental health topics, I have been able to be on my local news to talk about spreading awareness on mental health, and host a youth mental health symposium for my community. Everyday at my school I strive to be a voice for students who can’t use theirs and be the change in my community. Ever since I have been in NAMI it changed my whole perspective on how mental health is such a big aspect of a person's life. I once used to not believe that mental health was something that needed to be cherished and that it doesn’t matter, but now that I have seen the way it can affect a person, I have made it my duty to make sure my peers and community know that they are not alone.

In NAMI my most proud moment of spreading awareness is the NAMI Fresno youth symposium. This event was a collaboration with my local NAMI Fresno and 4 other high schools to plan an event for students in the central valley to learn more about mental health, and how establishing mental health resources at their schools will benefit not only them but their peers. It was an honor to be able to work alongside amazing people and be able to spread awareness on mental health and be able to be an advocating voice for my peers in my community. Another accomplishment that I am most proud of is being able to be on my local news. Through the NAMI club on my campus, I have been able to be on the news twice in a row because of the hard work that me and my fellow officers do for our school. I was able to explain to my local news on why NAMI on campus is important for schools by using the accomplishments that my school has been able to do, through the NAMI club. I was also able to be interviewed by my local news outlet for opening a professional closet for my school, for students that are in need of professional attire.             

All of these steps that I have taken to reduce the stigma of mental health has been for my community and peers because I strongly believe that mental health is what makes us who we are. I wanted to be a voice for my peers and community, to fight for what's right and advocate for those that need it the most. I am glad to have taken the steps I did to begin my journey within mental health because if it wasn’t for my introduction to mental health, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Helping individuals with their mental health and being an advocate for those that need it the most, has been my proudest accomplishment. I strongly believe every school should implement a NAMI at their high school because I know through this club we can stop the stigma and continue to bring awareness on mental health issues. Mental health is truly the pillar of our lives and something we should all take into consideration and everyday I continue to strive to change my community, my state, and also my nation through mental health.

In the darkest corners of your mind not so silent predators lurk. Whispering promises and lies to you until it's all you can hear. Anorexia, like a toxic lover, seizes its victims in a deceptive embrace, blurring the lines between love and hate. In a world where societal pressures and unrealistic standards of beauty reign supreme, the battle against Anorexia is a battle fought in the shadows, misunderstood, and underestimated. Like so many others in our generation I found myself entering a toxic relationship- one that would consume all my thoughts, dictate all my actions, and rob me of all that I loved. This is the story of my journey through recovery. A journey marked by pain, and challenges along the way but ultimately one that is a testament to the resilience I now have today.                                   

My Highschool years have been anything but ordinary. Freshman year of highschool, my parents made the hard decision to uproot me and my family from the only place we have ever known, where we lived our entire lives, and move us 2 hours away to the mountains. COVID-19 changed everyone’s lives one way or another. For my family it was the final push for us to finally move away from the crowds of people and begin a slower, quieter life focused on the more important things around us. Yet amidst the challenges of relocation, a more insidious battle started brewing inside of me. As a 13 year old girl, ripped away from her friends that meant the entire world to her, living in a brand new home, in what felt like the middle of nowhere during the middle of quarantine, I had never felt more alone in my life. This isolation brought me to a very dark place. I had always been such a happy kid growing up, then all of a sudden I was unrecognizable. I wasn’t even aware of my problem until I was in the hospital with the doctors telling me If I didn't get this fixed I could have months left due to my heart ultimately failing to function.

Anorexia. It took everything away from me. My health, my happiness, and even my family. It came into my life and changed everything. In a matter of months my entire life direction changed. I was at a stand still, I could continue in the way I was headed, or I could get help.

The decision to get help was not mine to make. I was taken from my home against my will and placed in a rehabilitation facility where I spent the hardest 6 months of my life. Alone and afraid living in the bay area, wanting more than anything to just run away. Run from all of this that I never asked for. Run from this curse that I had no idea what I did to deserve. Then one day, something in me clicked, and there was a glimmer of hope; the idea that maybe I can get through this, maybe I can be free from this control over my life. Surrounded by a supportive network of professionals, and with love and support from my best friends and family although from afar, I felt like for once I had the strength to choose recovery. And that's what I did, from that day on for two years that's all I did. Choose recovery.                                                  

The road to recovery was far from linear. I spent hours in therapy a day. I reconstructed every aspect of my life. I let go of that control. I learned to just breathe. I had moments of doubt and despair, as I confronted the realities of my illness, and the toll it had taken on my mind, body, and spirit. Yet with each passing day I grew stronger, and more resilient, determined to not let this define me anymore.

Today, I am proud to be able to say that I am recovered. I have emerged from the darkness of my illness into the light of recovery. I have learned the true meaning of resilience. All my hard work has paid off, and I am filled with indescribable gratitude for the support I got on the way from loved ones, and the guidance of my teams. It was their belief in me that got me through the hard nights. Their compassion and dedication not only helped me recover but also ignited a passion within me to pay it forward.

One day, I will be a rehab counselor, much like the ones who saw in me what I didn't see in myself. I want to be that source of encouragement and support for a teenager just like me that may be struggling with their own mental health battles. I want to offer them the same unwavering belief and guidance that helped me find my way out of the darkest place I have ever been into the light of recovery.

Being able to empathize with others who are facing similar challenges, I believe, will allow me to connect with them on a deeper level and provide them with the strength and hope they need to recover. Just as my counselors did for me, I aspire to be a beacon of hope for those who feel lost and alone in their journey towards recovery. In pursuing this career path, I am not only fulfilling a personal passion but also honoring the invaluable support and guidance I received during my own recovery. I am giving back and paying forward the kindness and compassion that was given to me when I needed it most. Ultimately, my journey with mental health has instilled in me a deep sense of purpose and determination to make a positive difference in the lives of others.

In conclusion, my journey with mental health has been a transformative one. Shaping me into who I am today. I am able to stand here today and be able to say “I did it” and know that I am stronger because of everything I have been through.

“You are all the colors in one, at full brightness”, words written by my favorite author, Jennifer Niven, in her book All the Bright Places. While these words are beautiful, they mean more to me than one would think.

On December 7, 2022, my first love, Dante, passed away by suicide. He truly was all of the colors in one, the brightest star to be seen for miles around. Losing him felt like the explosion of the sun. Grief was a brand new experience for me, and I quickly learned how isolating it can be. I spent months in this fantastical state, disconnected from reality, trying my best to simply keep my life together. But, when I emerged I felt an intense need to educate, as well as keep his memory alive.

I embarked upon this lonesome journey to remember and honor him. Teenagers tend to bottle their emotions up, and this time was no different, but my small class of 130 and I found ways to bring him into every conversation. To laugh in remembrance of his jokes. To be everything he believed we were. To be everything he thought I was. It is astounding to encounter the ways one can learn from a person, even after they are gone. Especially after they are gone.

Dante was the mitochondria of love at our school. He shone brightly on everyone he saw, spoke to strangers daily, and made sure every single individual in our school, from student to teacher, and everyone in between knew that they were appreciated. Dante keeps reminding me to live, and to love, and to look around every once in a while to appreciate the beauty of this world because sometimes the most beautiful people are gone far too early. And sometimes, they pull your joy down with them. Rebuilding the wall of joy that was knocked down in his wake, does not make it better, but perhaps it makes it stronger because little bits of him are now and forever embedded in the bricks of my life.

Losing Dante taught me to look for happiness in others, but also to be acutely aware of their sadness. I have learned every single sign of suicide and suicidal thoughts. Through my school’s Peer Mentoring program I have dedicated one and a half hours every day for the past year to meeting with students like Dante, who maintain their love for life, but sometimes forget where they put it. I decided to shift the focus of my Community-Action-Service project (an integral part of the IB diploma program), to hosting and running a school-wide assembly focused on educating others about suicide, suicide prevention, and mental health in general. But it isn’t just me. I watch my classmates check in on each other, sometimes as strangers, because that is what Dante inadvertently taught them to do. My goal is to shine a fraction of radiance on others as Dante did on me. And hopefully, that is enough to help someone remember where they stashed away their love for life.

 I hope we all continue to learn from the wonderful ways of Dante, even if you never met him. Just know that to live like Dante, is to live with joy, love, and lots of laughter. And while I can’t say that I appreciate this experience, because it truly was and is terrible, I can say that the worst situations provide the best opportunities to learn. Take the hand you’ve been dealt, and build it into a house of cards. As Billy Joel said, “Only the good die young,” but I think he forgot to add, that only the best leave the world to smile at their memory.

Stigma surrounding mental health issues crosses all social boundaries as well as occupational ones. Since I was in the 7th grade, I knew that I wanted to be a law enforcement officer. People would ask me why this career and why I would want to be in a profession that was often thankless. I had a love for law enforcement and the officers that continued to protect our communities despite the hate that they often faced. It was not till later on that I realized that the enemy was not always something or someone from the outside but one that was lurking within our law enforcement officers. I quickly learned that law enforcement officers were dying more frequently as a result of suicide than on duty deaths. Mental health in law enforcement is something that is often not talked about but I am happy to say that there are people out there who are trying to “break the barrier” in the law enforcement community. This is an area that I am passionate about and one that I have been proud to be a part of spreading the message.

My mom is a licensed social worker and she has always been passionate about the first responder population. She attended several first responder conferences that focused on mental wellness when I was growing up. My mom would come home and share all sorts of information that she learned with me. She would also keep it real with me and would say “You won’t be the same person you were when you joined the force.” “They are killing themselves because they don’t have the support they need to overcome the things no human should be exposed to.” None of these questions made me want to go into law enforcement any less. I often thought to myself, “How can I make sure I do not allow the job and what I see to consume me?” I wasn’t sure what the answer was to this question but I was soon going to find out by getting the opportunity to attend my very first 1st responder and mental wellness conference.

In 2022, I attended a 1st responder and mental wellness conference in Tempe, Arizona. Since that time, I have attended one other conference. These conferences focus on promoting awareness surrounding the difficulties all first responder professions face and encourage conversations that minimize the stigma. The mission of the 1st responder and mental wellness conference is to “improve the quality of life for all who dedicate themselves to protecting and serving others.” At these conferences, they not only talk about mental wellness but provide numerous resources to help individuals who are struggling. First responders are able to talk about their own struggles with their mental health and ways that they have been able to overcome these struggles. The message at these conferences is very clear to me. Don’t be afraid to ask for help and remember that you are never alone.

I have had the opportunity to share what I have learned at these conferences with various groups of people. I have shared information with deputies I have come in contact with and even presented information to the public safety class at my local high school. While trading patches with officers, I tend to use this opportunity to talk about these conferences since they are held all over the United States. One time, I even sent a printout of the conference flier to a couple of sheriff deputies who traded with me. I talk about mental wellness and the high risk of suicide to anyone who will listen. I explain that first responders go through hundreds of critical incidents in their lifetime, where the average person typically has one or two critical incidents. I also talk about how first responders don’t want to appear weak so many won’t reach out for help until it is too late. Too late being that they are now a statistic and have left family and friends wondering how they missed the signs.           

My father died by suicide in 2015. He was not a first responder but he struggled with mental health issues. I remember not wanting to share how my father died growing up. People would ask about him and I would simply say he passed away, but never shared how. Fast forward to now and I bring how his death impacted me up to first responders. Not in a way to make someone feel bad for me but to give them the perspective as a child who went through life with a parent who took their own life. I talk to deputies about the impact this has on the family. I talk about the stigma the family often feels when having to share how their loved one passed. I talk about the importance of getting healthy for their loved ones but most importantly for themselves. I speak to them from experience as a child who lost a parent to suicide.

One of the hardest stigmas to break in the law enforcement community is that you will be looked at differently or if you ask for help that it is a sign of weakness. Many first responders worry that if they ask for help that their job will be in jeopardy as they will be deemed “unfit for duty.” I will be heading to SUNY Albany in the Fall to study both criminal justice and social work. I will continue to be a voice to encourage mental health wellness among first responders and one day I hope to be part of the wellness and resilience unit in the police department I work at. It is important that we continue to bring light to the struggles of first responders and continue to advocate to “break the barrier” against mental health stigma. I am proud of my part in this and will continue to be a voice.

I have to tap on a wall 3 times or my family will die. I have OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) where a person experiences uncontrollable thoughts and compulsions. People experience OCD in different ways such as in organization or in the way you feel with your emotions while tapping or grabbing an object. Some people have magic numbers that they connect to the amount they tap or open or shut something. My number is 3. Sometimes a person will continuously tap or repeat something until their magic number is reached. However, this magic number may be reached numerous times if it does not feel right. When I touch an object and it feels wrong then you start to overthink the worse that if you do not touch that object again then something bad will happen to you. The way I live is also affected by OCD. I have to do things a specific way or else I won’t be able to sleep or continue my day without thinking about it. Even when I walk I do not step on any specific things because I feel like they will give me bad luck. OCD is also about symmetry and the directions and numbers of when you tap on an object and what direction you choose to walk in. I always have my left foot be the last foot that touches the floor before I go to bed. OCD interferes with the way I walk or grab things and even say words. It has taken a hold of me ever since middle school and has stayed with me to this day and I struggle everyday.

OCD may seem as a small clean freak disorder to everybody else but fear is built up inside you with this disorder. I am afraid that if I do not do something a certain way or correctly then my fears will come true. My OCD hit the worst on a family trip in LA. My family and I went to LA to visit Universal Studios and it scared me tremendously. There was an earthquake and I was at the park at the time. I learned what a panic attack was that day. My family called me dramatic and didn’t understand the OCD I was struggling with at the time, I was 12. This event has led me to believe that I did something incorrectly which is why the earthquake happened, I blamed myself. After the incident, I started to develop more severe OCD where I would have to tap on everything I touch at least 3 times. A door, cabinet, or even a family member or friend. It was hard to deal with this disorder since nobody understood it. Everyone would tell me “Nothing's going to happen” or “Stop that’s weird” and I knew it was weird but it was my life and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was only 12 and I looked into youtube videos and research to try to find a cure or some way I can cope with my OCD. There was medicine, therapy, and even suicide. When I saw that word on my screen, I wondered how many people my age killed themselves because of a disorder. Sadly, there is a lot.

I have tried stopping the tapping and all these habits however, when I would stop something bad would happen such as a fight with a friend or receiving a bad grade in a class. It scares me to do this day to stop this habit. My family is aware of my disorder, they get annoyed by these habits. I live in a Mexican household who think these disorders are something “dramatic” but they do not know how much I truly struggle with OCD. I live with 7 people in a 3 bedroom house so they view the habits I have. However, my aunt also has gone through the same thing. She had the same magic number too, 3. I asked her about it and she told me that the more you grow the more you grow to let it go. But she still has some habits left from this disorder such as checking on the stove three times or making sure the door is locked three times too. I was so relieved to believe that maybe it does get better and that I’ll be okay some day. I do sometimes think I am just crazy and that what I have is not a disorder, but other people have the same struggles which I have not seen before. When a bad event arises, I blame myself for it and I overthink a lot about how worse a situation can be. I was cheated on in a relationship recently, I blamed myself. The morning of that incident, I dyed my hair blonde and I believed it was what caused them to cheat on me. My thoughts of every 3 taps I have to do, I think of good memories and thoughts in order to create good luck from these taps.

Now that I am writing this, I see how difficult it is to deal with mental disorders. I am a senior in high school, I wait for 4 year colleges like Universities or state colleges to give their declined or accepted responses. I am terrified of what the future holds for me and my OCD has been more extreme because I fear that I am not good enough for college. I have to be able to achieve for my mom who had me at 16 and went through her own hardships and for my grandparents who work in the fields through heat and the cold. I have to be good enough, even if my OCD tries to bring me down, I have to fight back against this disorder in order to succeed for my family and most importantly myself.

Homecoming was five months ago. October 14th. For me, it was a fun-filled day of getting ready with my girls, taking myriads of pictures, dancing to loud songs, and watching movies with sweet treats in hand.

As I got ready for bed that night at my friend’s house, I remember hearing sirens rush by. The overpowering sound seemed to be coming from her backyard, and we assumed that the party a couple streets over had an incident of alcohol poisoning, or perhaps drug overdose. Unknown to me, our worst assumption was true: a life had been lost.

As I woke up the following morning, I could hear my friend’s mom on the phone, explaining the emergency last night. A classmate had taken his life. I heard unwanted details: his father running down the driveway hysterically as the police cars and ambulances arrived, the siblings being ushered outside, and how the boy had done it. I pushed the heartbreaking images to the back of my mind.

On Monday morning, each class I went to, my teachers gently brushed on the subject. I heard variations of “a student passed away this weekend, and we understand that this impacts students differently.” In English class, my teacher even announced that we would fast forward the scene from Dead Poets Society in which Neil chooses to end his life. She has always been sensitive to the fact that students have hidden scars and unsettling triggers. And so that day, I heard whispers of his name, each time a reminder of the details I overheard Sunday morning.        

As I left from that same friend’s house the following weekend, it was pitch black outside. Every house that I passed suddenly became his. Every black window belonged to the absent boy. Every driveway still held the echoes of sirens. My sister, who was sitting in the passenger seat, was agonized by the same thoughts. And so, despite my best efforts to suppress this tragedy from my mind, we finally talked about him. I told her how it broke my heart because he had no idea how many people would miss him, how suddenly things can change, and how he was so young. I told her I realized how easily his story could have been my own.

Most people heard the news and responded in the same way in which one does to post-weekend gossip. They wanted to know who it was and what grade he was in. But in my home, my mom sat down on the edge of my bed, looked deeply into my eyes, and told me that suicide is the worst way that a parent can lose a child. She told me I can always wake her up if I need her, no matter the hour. Then, she held out her pinky finger, and I promised her that I would never make the decision to end my life.

Unfortunately, the pinky promise I made my mom was not a whimsical, just-in-case gesture. It was a symbol of the unspoken understanding between us.

In one little pinky promise was a world of unspoken words. I had struggled with depression since I was about ten years old. As I began middle school as the new student in a new city, depression followed me. Isolation and loneliness and the struggle to make friends enhanced my feelings. I continued to struggle with depression throughout high school, too. It came in waves and with varying degrees, but its effect was always the same.

Depression felt like a numbness that creeped into my body, my heart, and my soul. It changed how high I held my head as I walked and the genuineness of my smile. It changed the light behind my eyes. The vibrant hues of the world were reduced to gray and sound became muffled as though underwater.

In the darkest moments, I wanted to take my life. Depression was not just a feeling or a lens through which I viewed the world. It was a lens through which I viewed myself. It was a lie. It was a lie that told me that I was alone, that I was hopeless, and that I had no purpose. The only thing standing between me and my darkest temptation was a small voice of fear. Not fear of the physical pain, but fear of finality. The small voice of fear that stopped me was afraid to surrender my future. Ending my life meant a million small moments would never occur.

I would never sing karaoke in the car with my friends. I would never feel the warmth of sunshine on my face. My bucket list would never be completed. I would never see my puppy run up to me when I walked through the door after school. I would never find a new favorite movie. My family would never see me graduate from high school or college. I would never see another sunset.

Choosing to endure was choosing to gift myself all these moments yet to come. It was understanding that because I have felt the lowest of lows, I get to feel these joyful moments with a deeper appreciation and passion. Because they almost ceased to exist, each small moment is a momentous one.

So on the days when I am tempted to feed old patterns and listen to familiar lies, I swim to the surface and remove the lens. For every kid who will never get to reach adulthood, have their first kiss or their first home, for every child who ended their life before they got to understand what a gift it is, I persist. By embracing the pulse in my veins and the drum in my heart, I get to honor the children who went too soon and the pinky promise I made my mom.

Since kindergarten, my response to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" has always been, "I want to be a doctor." It's always been a dream of mine but of course, being a naive 5-year-old, I didn't fully comprehend what being a doctor encompassed. Throughout the years, I've learned how essential the field of medicine is. Especially how important mental health is.

Fast forward 11 years later, I sat in Ms. Macedo's 1st-period psychology/sociology class on the first day of junior year and had no idea what to expect, but I could not have been more grateful for Ms. Macedo and her class. I began to realize that any negative expectations I had were wrong and that this class was a blessing in disguise.

I've always been intrigued by psychology. Something about learning why people behave the way they do has always compelled me. Even before taking Ms. Macedo's psychology class, I took a health class through a College Early Start program offered at my local community college. There, one specific chapter about psychology spoke about the importance of mental and emotional health and it had me hooked. Soon, I started to incorporate these vital principles into my everyday life. Even more so when I realized I could make a difference in my family and in my community.

My empathy toward people and the desire to solve problems have grown immensely since I’ve witnessed loved ones with chronic illnesses and health conditions that have altered their lives. I want to be the person who helps give them the answers, information, and knowledge they’re searching for, ultimately changing the trajectory of their life. One of the driving factors for my passion in this field is the deep desire to acknowledge the importance of mental health. Living amongst Asian-American immigrants, wellness in many ways is often overlooked. Mental health in Asian communities is especially neglected. I want to be able to provide guidance to all people, young and old, and educate them that there are many aspects to being healthy.

I soon began to take another college course to fulfill my interests after the first. One of these courses happened to be Human Development. It focused on how people develop, grow, and change throughout their lifespan. This course inspired me to evaluate the developmental changes that I've undergone and ultimately showed me the importance of good health and well-being. After this experience, I realized this newfound interest aligned with my dreams from when I was a child. I could fulfill my passion for mental health and the field of medicine, potentially becoming a psychiatrist. Now going into my senior year, I'm continuing to learn more about this interest in AP Psychology. With Decision Medicine, an amazing opportunity that showed just how I can become a physician, and all of the other opportunities I've had to immerse myself in psychology and medicine, it's safe to say that I'm a learner. I have always been eager to learn and that yearning is infinite. Although I may lack experience in this new field of curiosity, I'm determined to pursue all of my interests and continue to acquire newfound knowledge. One day, turning these disguised blessings into a riveting future is something I can only hope to accomplish wherever my path may take me.

Since I’ve curated my dream, I’ve been determined to accomplish it. After high school, I plan on attending a 4-year university on the pre-med track. My dream school is UCLA, so I hope to attend there. Nonetheless, with a UC Berkeley acceptance already and more, I’m grateful for any opportunity I’m given to pursue my academic career in undergrad. As an undergraduate student, I want to make it a mission to go out of my comfort zone and become an extrovert. I want to be involved in as many extracurriculars as I can and ensure I’m truly utilizing the opportunities given. After college, I hope to be in medical school after applying during undergrad. It’s easier said than done, but I’d spend the next 4 years there being further educated in medicine and finding my specialty. My passions would be further driven during residency, wherever my specialty takes me. I can only hope to make the 5-year-old little girl proud in my future endeavors.

A shout echoed out as I closed the front door to my Nana and Papa’s house. “Stop it!” I rushed toward the living room to locate the source of the noise. I saw my Papa, speaking in a much more timid voice now. “Kathy, please stop.” He was almost begging my Nana who was laughing as he tried in vain to squirm his legs out of the wheelchair my Nana threw onto him.

I sprinted to the maroon couch, pushing aside the blood pressure device. I shoved my Nana aside and pulled the wheelchair off my Papa’s feet. “Are you okay?” I searched for a Kleenex to wipe away his tears.

My Papa gripped my hand tighter than I thought someone near their deathbed could. “I’m okay, Basil. Please,” My Papa took a shaky breath “please take her away from me.”

I pulled my Nana to her bedroom as she protested in childlike anger. I took deep breaths, trying to suppress the rage within me. “What happened?”

“It’s your damn grandfather. I know what he’s been doing. I keep getting the calls from the women.”

I could no longer be diplomatic. “Nana, we have been over this. My mom checked the landline logs. No one has called.”

My Nana threw her hands in the air as her eyes raced around the room with no finish line in sight. “He must have deleted them.”

“Papa can’t walk anymore. His hands shake so hard that he can no longer hold a drink.” I knew I could not reason with my Nana, not since her Alzheimer’s rapidly progressed. “Instead of comforting your husband of 52 years during his final days, you are killing him faster than his lymphoma.”

“Fuck your grandfather.”

I closed the cherry-red bedroom door behind me and paced back to my Papa. His face was cradled by his hands. As I approached him, a sound slowly grew until I could recognize it – weeping. Ever stoic, my Papa wailed the quietest, nearly imperceptible tears.

I wanted to hug my Papa. I wish I did, but I worried that seeing tears race down my face would only upset him more. Sometimes I imagine reaching out and embracing my family patriarch. Other times, I reason that I could have held his smooth hands and told him I was there for him. I think that is what he wanted. He needed someone to stand with him and make him feel less alone in the house he now shared with a familiar stranger. Instead, we both cried, separated by a wall of my creation.

After a time, maybe minutes, although I am unsure, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my mom checking in on me. “Hey Mom, can you please leave work? I need you here.”

“I will. I love you.” Without hesitation, my Mom was here to rescue me. I waited for her in the hallway between the bedroom my Nana was brooding in and where my Papa had eventually cried himself to sleep. I maintained a silent watch. My arms fell around my Mom once she arrived.

I asked the only question I could conceive. “Why did Alzheimer’s do this to Nana?”

“Oh, honey.” My Mom rubbed my hands. “Nana has,” she sighed. “She has always been this way.” I could not comprehend how the sweetest lady could have, and always was, capable of this abuse and vitriol. My mom explained her childhood. My Nana loved her family, yet at a moment's notice, she would snap and hurt the people around her. Alzheimer’s disease is not a mental illness, but brought it her mental issues to the forefront.

I rubbed my reddened eyes. “Why is she like this?”

“Because it’s how she grew up.” My Mom explained my Nana’s childhood in the house of alcoholics. Her family suffered from constant physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at the hands of her mother and father. My Mom only knew this information from her aunt. My Nana never spoke of it. She repressed these memories and never sought help. She likely felt ashamed.

My Mom sent me home while she cared for my Papa. The next day, I said my final goodbyes to my Papa. My Nana never said anything to the man she loved in her own complicated, and often toxic way. I found it exceedingly difficult to forgive my Nana, I still have not fully done so. Yet looking back on things, I understand her better. My Nana was an abuser, but she also was a victim of a vicious cycle of trauma. In addition, her love for us was readily evident.

My Nana taught me how connected our mental health is to other people’s mental health. When one person is sick, it can spread like any other disease. Mental challenges cannot be ignored or suppressed. All that results is more hardship, more pain, and a longer future of trauma. Instead, we have to approach others who are struggling with love, compassion, and treatment as any physical disease would require. The scars received and given can never disappear, however, we can grow so that mark becomes a much smaller part of our lives.

It is not a story of one person’s mental health, because our health affects all others. The actions we take, both purposeful and unintentional, have deep impacts on others. Yet, through this all, tough times bring out the best in people. I understood the inner strength of my mother as she juggled her roles as an educator, mother, and caregiver. I often reminisce about how I had the courage to hold my Papa’s hands and say how much I loved him as he exhaled his final breath. When someone faces hard times, we must come together to protect those in need. It is only through judgment-free love and support that we can uplift one another and truly live.

Growing up I realized that many members of my extended family struggled with mental

illnesses and substance abuse. Although it didn't directly affect me, I saw the effects it left on my

Mother. She struggled to see the efforts she put into helping her loved ones get tossed aside

because they couldn't even help themselves. My family also struggled with balancing a harmful

cultural value called machismo. More often then not, this harmful way of thinking frays family

dynamics. My father was very controlling and it led to mental issues within my own family. It

was scary because I didn't know what to do when the people I loved were coping with these

issues. I was only a kid and had no power in providing them with resources or solutions. So when I found out that my high school had a N.A.M.I (National Alliance on Mental Illness) Club, I felt obliged to take a stand.

I joined the N.A.M.I Club my junior year of High School. Over these past two years, I have done my best to raise awareness of mental illnesses and ways to cope with everyday stressors that High Schoolers have. I volunteer at the Destress Festivals we have before finals, and I make pamphlets for students to take with them, from ways to improve self-care, meditation, and ways to stop procrastinating. I ran for club president and campaigned against my fellow peers for office. I won and am now the Club President. This office comes with a lot of responsibility and I am thankful to have been given the opportunity to advocate for people who can't always speak up for themselves. I make weekly slideshows and present them at our club meetings. I have come up with new and different ideas for events this year and we have successfully carried them all out.

I hosted a Peace with Nature and Animals Lunchtime activity for students and staff because as a kid, I knew that my animals were extremely important to my mental health. They helped me get through tough times and were always there to comfort me. I was able to secure a petting zoo on campus to help relieve anxiety and stress for students. My club advisor, Darbie Andrews was a tremendous help in organizing these events. I can't thank her enough for helping my ideas come to life. To get permission for the petting zoo we had to present our idea to our principal Mr. Rich Hassay. He then asked us if we would be willing to present at the School Board meeting to share the efforts our club had been making. Our leadership committee agreed and we presented it to the board. We got a grant to bring the petting zoo to campus, and just seeing the look on students' faces made all our efforts worth it. During the event other activities included a Mental Health Jeopardy board that students played. There was also a sunflower planting station.

Following the theme that nature and animals are good for our mental health, I came up with the idea to go on a field trip to the Turtle Bay Exploratory Park. I wanted to allow students to be outside more and realize how much of a de-stresser nature truly is. We were able to take three vans full of students and it was amazing. I got to see students decompress and make friends with one another. I hope that this field trip becomes a tradition for our club, even after I graduate

High School.

This year I volunteered at our very first Mental Health Symposium. Students, parents, and staff participated in this community event. We had guest speakers from Empower Tehama speak about their experiences with mental health and how they coped with their illnesses. I also

gave a speech about why I wanted to become an advocate for mental health, and the efforts I am making to reduce the stigma around getting help when you are struggling.

In May, we are going to host a Mental Health Fair on campus and I have already started to organize the different stations and activities we are going to have for our students. I am organizing a car wash fundraiser called "Wash Your Worries Away" to raise enough money to host our Mental Health Fair. Coming up with new events and fundraisers will help our club in the long run, and get more students involved in advocating for their mental health.

I am a part of the only N.A.M.I Club in Tehama County and I hope to grow our organization. I plan to connect with Corning High Counselors to see if I can get them interested in creating another branch on their campus. Students deserve the opportunity to advocate for their mental health and other issues they believe are important. I know that all my efforts and the hard work of my club members will pay off. People will begin to realize that receiving aid when they are struggling isn't a shameful thing. My family benefited when they sought help, and if we can make other people understand that, I truly believe we can reduce the stigma around mental illnesses and begin to heal people.

I vividly remember a conversation with my older sister the night before my first day of high school. I asked my sister about her experience in her freshman year and she told all the struggles she went through during that time. One phrase she told me that night that would always stick with me even after four years was, “marihap pero kaya mo yan.” which translates to, “it's hard but you can handle it.” Freshman year is most notable for its hard transitional period that all freshmen go through. Upon entering my first year of high school, I held high hopes and expectations for myself, going as far as telling my family that I will achieve academic greatness such as being the top of my class and finding leadership opportunities. In my head, I thought that high school would be a breeze and my first year especially would be easy. This expectation I would further from the truth.

The effects of online learning would start to kick in and alter my mentality of school. Waking up every morning to join a zoom class was demotivating and I felt that I was not learning much at all. I felt compelled to only complete my assignments with low efforts and became lazier and lazier by day. Homework would start being laid off until the last hour of its due date after spending most of my days rotting in bed. For a long time, I didn’t quite understand what happened to that same optimism I had in the beginning of the year. Why it suddenly left my system without any hint of leaving. Everything felt dull, trying to learn in a suffocating box I called my room felt so much harder than I could have ever expected. The skies appeared in gray and dark colors mimicking the bags on my eyes from the mental struggle I faced trying to learn in an environment that didn’t suit my needs. It was not only the repercussions of online learning that were pulling me down from below.

My biggest fear had always been being alone, as time passed I didn’t realize what was happening in my personal life being so focused and stuck in a mental captivity to school. Not until my sister, the person I was closest to and relied on with getting through high school, would leave for boot camp to finally start the path of success that she is striving for. At this point of the year, hybrid learning has commenced and my motivation in school has started to get better again. On the bus home, I was excited to tell my sister about my day and annoy her like a little brother does. Unexpectedly, my mother would call me, her voice sounding down and shaky. She would finally break the news to me that my sister had finally received a call from her recruiter earlier that morning and immediately left for the boot camp. I felt devastated, the bus’ engine suddenly sounded distant and everything around me felt slow. The realization that half of my family would no longer be physically present in my life finally came rushing to my heart. Everything felt wrong and for the longest time, the fear of being alone grew stronger and stole my control of my emotions.

This fear and resentment of being alone would carry all throughout the course of my high school journey but it never had consumed me so much as the summer of 2021. My mental health has reached its lowest point. A two month vacation at my dad’s felt like my life was being drained from existence, feeling a sharp pain in my heart with every degradation from myself. It felt as if I lost every feeling on my thumbs, no longer feeling anything I touched. The numbness felt so depressing, reaching the point of thinking of death in the process. Loneliness felt so scary, I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone.

Fast forward to the present day, where my mental health and mindset has drastically improved better than it ever has before. The past year of 2023 was a time for healing and redemption. Through the guidance of my best friend and closest friends, I was able to finally understand the difference and importance of loneliness. The ones closest to me helped me realize that I will never truly be lonely. Although my family is distant apart, they will forever hold a place in my heart and I hold a place in theirs. When love is strong, distance becomes weak. Furthermore, I was able to feel more confident in my skills and academics. My deeper understanding of loneliness has given me an opportunity to shine light in my own darkness.

At this current state of my life, I reflect back on my life and mental health. There will always be times of dread and darkness but light will shine where it's always been. I compare this statement to an analogy with my bedroom. In the night, my bedroom is dark with nothing much to visualize around my room. I know there are my day to day items placed all across the room but I cannot see them. For the first few months of sleeping in my bedroom, all I saw was pitch black until one night where I looked towards my window and was blinded with the bright gleams of the moon. The moon has always been there but it is up to you to put yourself in a position to notice its true colors.

Mental health, one of the most important and least talked about factors in our life. I have witnessed what good and bad mental health can do to a person. The person's mental health that I have observed is my mom’s. Throughout my life, she has had social anxiety and there has always been some trauma with my mom's side of the family. It has been difficult for her to deal with this throughout her life and I wish I could understand what it is like. Her mental health can affect her well-being and our family's too. This is why mental health is so important; not only to one person, but to everyone around them too.

As a kid, my Mom and her siblings grew up in poverty. Childhood poverty has been proven to affect a person's well-being and mental health. “Poverty is both a cause of mental health problems and a consequence. Poverty in childhood and among adults can cause poor mental health through social stresses, stigma, and trauma” (Poverty and Mental Health: Policy,

Practice, and Research Implications, 2020). From this research, I know that this is likely a key factor in my mom’s mental health. Later in her life, my grandma left her when she was a teenager and my grandpa was divorced from my grandma so my mom did her best to take care of her siblings. Now more recently, her brother, my uncle, died at a young age and her dad died too. It is a commonly known fact that death can leave a huge negative impact on anyone's mental state. “Throughout the lifespan, unexpected death of a loved one is associated with the development of depression and anxiety symptoms, substance use, as well as other psychiatric disorders” (The Burden of Loss: Unexpected Death of a Loved One and Psychiatric Disorders Across the Life Course in a National Study, 2015). These factors no doubt negatively impact my mother's mental health; but, how does this affect her everyday life?

My mom is a stay-at-home mom, which honestly can be one of the hardest jobs in the world. It can take away from someone's social life and can be very mentally demanding doing the same thing over and over again every day. For that reason, my mom doesn’t have many friends to talk to and recently I feel like that is what she has been needing because of the passing of her dad. My dad has tried being there for her but death is still a very hard thing to deal with. During the day, I would notice that she would take more naps and not talk to family members as much. One reason for this is that during the time my grandpa was sick, my mom's family would just argue and could never get on the same page. However, this has happened a lot, which may be a reason why she was diagnosed with social anxiety around six years ago. After being diagnosed she told me that she was prescribed pills and medicine for it. These pills made her feel worse, however, and she stopped taking them. She has also been diagnosed with depression before which no doubt caused some personal problems that I don’t know all that much about. She has been open about this to me and my siblings so it isn’t a mystery by any means. Some of these issues that have affected my mom’s mental health have also affected our family as well.

There have been some arguments between my parents that have had a direct correlation to some of my mom’s mental health problems. A lot of arguments have been about drama in her family and some about things that will happen during the day. I believe anxiety has caused a lot of these arguments. “Anxiety can lead to excessive worry, anger, or irritability. On the other hand, anxiety can also contribute to avoidance and detachment, which makes it hard to form a meaningful connection” (Meek, 2022). Anxiety causing irritation can lead to arguments and short patience, which can have a large impact on kids. Another thing that anxiety does is cause feelings of detachment can also be why it is hard for my mom and others with anxiety to meet new people and have friends. Even with some of these problems, my mom has always been there for us. I love my parents and I am very happy with my family.

This is my experience with knowing a loved one affected by negative mental health. Researching about this topic and the experience that my mom has told me about has really shown me how important mental health is. It not only affects that person but everyone close to them too, whether positive or negative. I also noticed that it isn’t prioritized as much as it needs to be because, for some problems, doctors will just prescribe pills and in some circumstances, the cost of a therapist is too much. This is why mental health and the ability to get proper mental health aid is very important for everyone.