Year Three at UC
Looking back, this past year went by way faster than the previous two but proved to be the one marked with the most personal growth. After my first year, I realized that there was so much I didn't know about the world and experiences of others. After my second year, I finally found the courage to prioritize my own happiness and believe in my abilities instead of caving to the expectations of my family and friends. If I were to neatly wrap up this past year into a sentence, I would probably say: after my third year, I realized the power of failure and the necessity of surrounding yourself with a few good people who love you enough to both support and challenge you.
I'll kick off this reflection starting where the last ended: I spent another summer at Camp Nuhop, which came with its own challenges. Being a returning counselor, there was a higher expectation in setting an example and continuing to create wonderful experiences for our campers which felt intimidating at the beginning. After the first week (which was the definition of a learning opportunity, where we should've used more bug spray and brought a lot more water and definitely shouldn't have touched dry ice with out bare hands) I found a balance between being fun and firm towards our campers and felt capable in my abilities to work with our kids. The best part of Nuhop is our sweet, silly, lovely, creative, brilliant campers. At the end of every week we have an awards ceremony to celebrate our kids, and there's nothing that fills me with more joy than to celebrate their abilities and to make sure they leave knowing that they belong and matter in this world. Most of the summer went incredibly well, and I found new friends in the new counsellors and rejuvenated friendships with other returners. However, a few moments and interactions toward the end of the summer hit my confidence hard and shook me deeply, making me question whether I was actually cut out for working with kids at all. As I returned to Cincinnati in August, I found myself becoming more withdrawn and easily discouraged, often avoiding certain interactions or experiences because of a fear of disappointing or realizing I wasn't good enough. I had days where I would just lie in bed and alternate between crying and staring at the wall for hours, wondering whether I mattered at all. If I'm being honest, most days I would conclude that I didn't. I'd cycle between feeling selfish, ungrateful, purposeless, and straight-up sad. There was plenty that would make me feel happy but when I was alone I'd fall right back into a part of my thoughts that just attacked every part of my being. I didn't want to come back to school or pursue anything I had been involved in before.
What helped me get back into the swing of things was the Annual Honors Welcome Retreat. It was such a joy to see all of the Retreat Leaders jiving and getting excited to welcome the newest class of Honors students. Leading my own breakout session was such a cool opportunity, and even though my activity was rather easy it made me think on my feet to fill the session with interesting, Community-related stuff to do. This retreat was such a different experience from the previous one, and it was really fun to get to know Mandy and the Honors staff in this capacity. Their encouragement and advice was exactly what I needed to know that I was capable to create an environment for incoming students to get to know each other and share their passions. The participants were all wonderful and it was such a joy to watch them forge friendships and get excited to be at UC. It was different not having my own small group to talk to and support but I really enjoyed facilitating the retreat so that the Retreat Leaders could have everything they need to be successful in their roles.
First semester went by rather quickly. It was the beginning of my time in Women in Leadership and Learning, which was slightly marred by the disbanding of Reclaim and the following changes in the Women's Center. I remember being so shocked and confused, and couldn't imagine what those months were like for those deeply invested in either or both. Seeing the reactions of those who care deeply about these causes made me realize some of the changes that needed to be made across the university. Alongside this eye-opening experience was my exposure to many students' experiences at UC and beyond thanks to RAPP (Racial Awareness Pilot Program). It was here where I realized how truly varied the college experience can be, and that not every student walked away proudly talking about their time at their alma mater. Through my involvement with Student Government as Associate Vice President of Student Interests, I tried to connect people to as many resources as I could and help them find success during their respective journeys.
I also took some really wonderful classes: Neuroscience with Drs. Buschbeck and Vilnsky was definitely a highlight and made me so excited to learn about this expanding field. I've always loved how interconnected all fields of study are, and neuroscience is right at the heart of it, seeing how our brains interpret and understand the world around us. I had just changed my major, so it felt good to find an area of study that was challenging and interesting.
Year 3 was a hard one for personal relationships: I think I focused a lot of time on school and extracurricular activities and let a lot of my closest relationships falter. I would see my friends briefly at campus events and most communication would be over text. This upcoming year, I'm making it a priority to spend time with the people who have always been there for me and to be there for them just as much - really, I want to be a better friend.
I also realized that importance of mentorship and how mutually beneficial these relationships are. Through Connections and SGMP, I had three wonderful people come into my life: Sarah Han, Sam Blizzard, and Akshar Kathula. I had a lot of dark days this past year, but they were a constant source of positivity and light in my life, and I gained more from them than I could've ever taught them.
I also took some really wonderful classes: Neuroscience with Drs. Buschbeck and Vilnsky was definitely a highlight and made me so excited to learn about this expanding field. I've always loved how interconnected all fields of study are, and neuroscience is right at the heart of it, seeing how our brains interpret and understand the world around us. I had just changed my major, so it felt good to find an area of study that was challenging and interesting.
Year 3 was a hard one for personal relationships: I think I focused a lot of time on school and extracurricular activities and let a lot of my closest relationships falter. I would see my friends briefly at campus events and most communication would be over text. This upcoming year, I'm making it a priority to spend time with the people who have always been there for me and to be there for them just as much - really, I want to be a better friend.
I also realized that importance of mentorship and how mutually beneficial these relationships are. Through Connections and SGMP, I had three wonderful people come into my life: Sarah Han, Sam Blizzard, and Akshar Kathula. I had a lot of dark days this past year, but they were a constant source of positivity and light in my life, and I gained more from them than I could've ever taught them.
Around December, I got a call from my friend Tobi Akomolede asking about my thoughts on the efficacy of Student Government. We followed up over smoothies, and delved deep into identifying real issues that students face and how Student Government could create tangible, meaningful change on our campus. I would be lying if I didn't say that I was still having a hard time with my confidence, still doubting myself at every turn. I had this terrible distrust of my abilities and didn't think that anyone actually liked me beyond just being polite. When Tobi asked me to run with him in the Student Body elections, I told him a hesitant yes. I was ready to advocate for changes that Student Government should have made a long time ago, and was lucky to find a running mate who shared my values but who I could still challenge and who would do the same for me. The icing on the cake was having the most incredible campaign team of all time. No joke, our people are stars. From social justice heroes to leaders in the Greek community, from geniuses with design and branding to experts at hyping it up on Main Street, our team was filled with some of the most inspiring people I had ever met. Each of them were the reasons we were running: to making intersectionality an integral consideration in university matters, to supporting all communities on our campus, to changing the way we view student representation on our campus. We picked 30 people who were making incredible changes in the world and just thinking about them fills my heart with pride. I will never be able to thank them enough for their passion and dedication, and will always be rooting for them in the good that they will do.
The weeks of the campaign was by far the most humbling experience of my life. I relied on our team heavily and absolutely wouldn't have made it without them. Our long days would start as early as 4 or 5 in the morning to get supplies and transport them onto campus, and most days wouldn't end until past midnight. I would have tapped out after the first day (I fall into the "8 hours of sleep or bust" category) if it had not been for the support of our team. For months before the election, they poured themselves into our collective vision to better our university. They gave feedback on our platform, connected us to people we should talk to, and constantly reminded us why we were running and what more we could do to best represent students. The biggest shoutouts go to Rachel Motley and Kelsey Reichenbach, who kept our whole operation running and did it without any expectation of anything in return. I'm immensely grateful for their time and energy and I hope I get the chance to repay them someday.
The actual events of the election were a blur except the Diversity Debate. The night before, I almost puked because of nerves. My teammates reassured me but that didn't stop me from bursting into tears and having a panic attack in the bathroom. Christian Jackson was my anchor that evening; without her I would've melted down completely, but she reminded me that the election was two weeks of my life and all I could do was say my piece and think of it as an opportunity to represent those who didn't have the same chances that I did. I hate speaking to crowds more than anything. The night of the debate, I saw so many loving and supporting faces, many of whom have taught me so much about social justice - Christian Jackson, Anahita Sharma, Iman Said, Hannah Fereshtehkhou, Joe Dunkle - and to see them nodding and smiling at my answers filled me with the confidence and reassurance I needed. When I cried after the debate, every tear was from pure joy.
During the weeks of campaigning we got to speak to so many students to hear about their time at UC - as expected, most stories weren't perfect. We heard from young parents who didn't find resources to support their journey as a student-parent, students who transferred from other universities or Blue Ash campus who had trouble adjusting to UC, and many who were pursuing college years after graduating from high school and needed assistance easing back into student life. We researched best practices and reflected on what we could to continually support all student experiences, and by the time voting ended, it didn't matter if we had won or lost. We had raised awareness to these issues and demanded change that involved students in the process. We showed a lot of students that we could band together to make things better for students who don't always get heard. It was the most rewarding experience of my life.
Despite our efforts, we didn't win. The hardest part was that deep-seated feeling of inadequacy that flitted through my brain all through college resurfacing once again. To see the looks and tears on my teammates' faces broke my heart; I am still trying to regain confidence in my leadership and in our ideas. I was plagued with questions of "Maybe we're doing the wrong thing" and "Maybe this isn't what students need after all." For weeks after, I had a hard time eating and motivating myself to do most things. I stopped seeing my friends and had a hard time being on campus or attending events. In a way, the campaign had built my confidence to show me that my voice did matter and I am capable of doing something, and I'm working hard to hold on to that and remind myself that losing doesn't take the confidence away, but just lights a fire to keep working.
I spent the month of March sulking and withdrawing, unable to see myself as more than a disappointment and failure. No one really tells you what happens when you lose, so I'll tell you right now: things gets weird. The support that flourished for weeks disappears, you question your worth and capabilities, and you lose trust in the world and in yourself. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a real presidential election or a major athletic competition or even American Idol. I tried my best to be happy for my peers but struggled knowing that my vision for our community wouldn't become reality. I know I would have been a lot worse if it were not for my boyfriend, Josh, who was there for me every step of the way before, during, and after. He is a constant source of humor, warmth, and compassion in my life and helped me pick myself up when I thought I was all alone. By the time we celebrated a year together in April, I was well on my way to figuring myself out again and feeling thankful for the experience that gave me the chance to connect with so many wonderful people.
Tobi and I realized something: barely 6,000 out of 32,000 students voted, and those who did were heavily involved on campus and didn't need our platform points anyways. Our greatest failure was that the organization itself didn't hold enough trust from the student body as a whole. What we needed was action that positively impacted students and their college experience. We realized that the people who built and supported our ideas were the ones who could really push for change on our campus if they were united. Our collective ideas and passion could truly fuel impact on our campus that respects and recognizes all identities, backgrounds, and experiences. It's not about saying that we are one and the same, it's about recognizing and valuing differences equally and respectfully. Student leadership represents a very small portion of our campus - looking at it from the angle and intersections of race, sexuality, ability, religion, and gender among other factors. There's a difference between representatives who are all allies and representatives who live and breathe these identities. What we need is to take the opportunities that student leaders have and the power that comes with it and make it accessible for every student. We need to change the way we value the hard work of students - not just acknowledging and commending students who have the time and financial security to be involved in campus, but the students who break all boundaries and cross all obstacles to better their education and their lives. If our community is one step closer to doing that by the time I graduate, I'll be proud of my alma mater.
Following the end of the semester, I spent the early part of my summer working at Rees E. Price Academy as an Enrichment Teacher for the after-summer school program, teaching STE(A)M, or Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, and Mathematics for kindergarten through 5th grade. Nothing has taught me more patience, flexibility, and humor than leading a classroom in lessons and activities. My students were vibrant, creative, and utterly genius, and it was just so cool to see ideas click in their heads and hearing them explain their observations and hypotheses to one another. Along with my summers at Camp Nuhop and tutoring during the year, this experience definitely solidified my path in Education. I'm not sure what it will look like quite yet, but working in a school setting is a never-ending challenge, one that I think I'm up for. These students deserve a quality education that respects and challenges them, and I know each of them has the potential to change the world for the better.
For the remainder of my summer, I'll be traveling with UC's GlobeMed GROW team to Mae Sot, Thailand, where I will be spending five weeks learning from Social Action for Women, an organization dedicated to health and education for Burmese migrant workers in the region. I'm beyond grateful to SAW and our host, Aung Htun Lin, affectionately called ATL, for allowing us to learn about the organization and the communities that they support.
So that was my year. And I'm realizing now that I've only got one more of these reflections before I wrap up college. The biggest realization I had this past year is you're the only one who can carve out your story: it might get weathered by your environment, and sometimes people might try to etch in their ideas and opinions, but it's your choice to let that impact the big picture. It takes me awhile to find the silver lining in failures, but I'm working on getting better at hunting them down. For my last year, I'm going to prioritize the people I love and who are my reminders that this is a life worth living to the fullest. I'll be applying to School Psychology graduate programs this fall, and dedicating my free time to making the Student Diversity and Inclusion Council an impactful and important part of our campus. I'll be continuing my roles as a Student Associate in the President's Office with Interim President Beverly Davenport, Intern in Dr. Ammerman's lab at Children's Hospital, and a Tutor in the Literacy Lab at Rees E. Price. I feel full of perspective in realizing that everything happens for a reason, full of pride in seeing those I love flourish and grow, and full of hope for what's to come.
For my final reflection, I want to start documenting the little things that I cherish in the people around me. Really, I take for granted so much that I have that I am grateful for. So in the Year Four page, I'll be documenting the people, places, and occasional things in my life that have changed me for the better. It'll be a good place look for a reminder of what's so wonderful about life. I can't wait to see where this next year will go; no matter what, I'll be carrying the lessons of the past year with me.
The weeks of the campaign was by far the most humbling experience of my life. I relied on our team heavily and absolutely wouldn't have made it without them. Our long days would start as early as 4 or 5 in the morning to get supplies and transport them onto campus, and most days wouldn't end until past midnight. I would have tapped out after the first day (I fall into the "8 hours of sleep or bust" category) if it had not been for the support of our team. For months before the election, they poured themselves into our collective vision to better our university. They gave feedback on our platform, connected us to people we should talk to, and constantly reminded us why we were running and what more we could do to best represent students. The biggest shoutouts go to Rachel Motley and Kelsey Reichenbach, who kept our whole operation running and did it without any expectation of anything in return. I'm immensely grateful for their time and energy and I hope I get the chance to repay them someday.
The actual events of the election were a blur except the Diversity Debate. The night before, I almost puked because of nerves. My teammates reassured me but that didn't stop me from bursting into tears and having a panic attack in the bathroom. Christian Jackson was my anchor that evening; without her I would've melted down completely, but she reminded me that the election was two weeks of my life and all I could do was say my piece and think of it as an opportunity to represent those who didn't have the same chances that I did. I hate speaking to crowds more than anything. The night of the debate, I saw so many loving and supporting faces, many of whom have taught me so much about social justice - Christian Jackson, Anahita Sharma, Iman Said, Hannah Fereshtehkhou, Joe Dunkle - and to see them nodding and smiling at my answers filled me with the confidence and reassurance I needed. When I cried after the debate, every tear was from pure joy.
During the weeks of campaigning we got to speak to so many students to hear about their time at UC - as expected, most stories weren't perfect. We heard from young parents who didn't find resources to support their journey as a student-parent, students who transferred from other universities or Blue Ash campus who had trouble adjusting to UC, and many who were pursuing college years after graduating from high school and needed assistance easing back into student life. We researched best practices and reflected on what we could to continually support all student experiences, and by the time voting ended, it didn't matter if we had won or lost. We had raised awareness to these issues and demanded change that involved students in the process. We showed a lot of students that we could band together to make things better for students who don't always get heard. It was the most rewarding experience of my life.
Despite our efforts, we didn't win. The hardest part was that deep-seated feeling of inadequacy that flitted through my brain all through college resurfacing once again. To see the looks and tears on my teammates' faces broke my heart; I am still trying to regain confidence in my leadership and in our ideas. I was plagued with questions of "Maybe we're doing the wrong thing" and "Maybe this isn't what students need after all." For weeks after, I had a hard time eating and motivating myself to do most things. I stopped seeing my friends and had a hard time being on campus or attending events. In a way, the campaign had built my confidence to show me that my voice did matter and I am capable of doing something, and I'm working hard to hold on to that and remind myself that losing doesn't take the confidence away, but just lights a fire to keep working.
I spent the month of March sulking and withdrawing, unable to see myself as more than a disappointment and failure. No one really tells you what happens when you lose, so I'll tell you right now: things gets weird. The support that flourished for weeks disappears, you question your worth and capabilities, and you lose trust in the world and in yourself. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a real presidential election or a major athletic competition or even American Idol. I tried my best to be happy for my peers but struggled knowing that my vision for our community wouldn't become reality. I know I would have been a lot worse if it were not for my boyfriend, Josh, who was there for me every step of the way before, during, and after. He is a constant source of humor, warmth, and compassion in my life and helped me pick myself up when I thought I was all alone. By the time we celebrated a year together in April, I was well on my way to figuring myself out again and feeling thankful for the experience that gave me the chance to connect with so many wonderful people.
Tobi and I realized something: barely 6,000 out of 32,000 students voted, and those who did were heavily involved on campus and didn't need our platform points anyways. Our greatest failure was that the organization itself didn't hold enough trust from the student body as a whole. What we needed was action that positively impacted students and their college experience. We realized that the people who built and supported our ideas were the ones who could really push for change on our campus if they were united. Our collective ideas and passion could truly fuel impact on our campus that respects and recognizes all identities, backgrounds, and experiences. It's not about saying that we are one and the same, it's about recognizing and valuing differences equally and respectfully. Student leadership represents a very small portion of our campus - looking at it from the angle and intersections of race, sexuality, ability, religion, and gender among other factors. There's a difference between representatives who are all allies and representatives who live and breathe these identities. What we need is to take the opportunities that student leaders have and the power that comes with it and make it accessible for every student. We need to change the way we value the hard work of students - not just acknowledging and commending students who have the time and financial security to be involved in campus, but the students who break all boundaries and cross all obstacles to better their education and their lives. If our community is one step closer to doing that by the time I graduate, I'll be proud of my alma mater.
Following the end of the semester, I spent the early part of my summer working at Rees E. Price Academy as an Enrichment Teacher for the after-summer school program, teaching STE(A)M, or Science, Technology, Engineering, Art, and Mathematics for kindergarten through 5th grade. Nothing has taught me more patience, flexibility, and humor than leading a classroom in lessons and activities. My students were vibrant, creative, and utterly genius, and it was just so cool to see ideas click in their heads and hearing them explain their observations and hypotheses to one another. Along with my summers at Camp Nuhop and tutoring during the year, this experience definitely solidified my path in Education. I'm not sure what it will look like quite yet, but working in a school setting is a never-ending challenge, one that I think I'm up for. These students deserve a quality education that respects and challenges them, and I know each of them has the potential to change the world for the better.
For the remainder of my summer, I'll be traveling with UC's GlobeMed GROW team to Mae Sot, Thailand, where I will be spending five weeks learning from Social Action for Women, an organization dedicated to health and education for Burmese migrant workers in the region. I'm beyond grateful to SAW and our host, Aung Htun Lin, affectionately called ATL, for allowing us to learn about the organization and the communities that they support.
So that was my year. And I'm realizing now that I've only got one more of these reflections before I wrap up college. The biggest realization I had this past year is you're the only one who can carve out your story: it might get weathered by your environment, and sometimes people might try to etch in their ideas and opinions, but it's your choice to let that impact the big picture. It takes me awhile to find the silver lining in failures, but I'm working on getting better at hunting them down. For my last year, I'm going to prioritize the people I love and who are my reminders that this is a life worth living to the fullest. I'll be applying to School Psychology graduate programs this fall, and dedicating my free time to making the Student Diversity and Inclusion Council an impactful and important part of our campus. I'll be continuing my roles as a Student Associate in the President's Office with Interim President Beverly Davenport, Intern in Dr. Ammerman's lab at Children's Hospital, and a Tutor in the Literacy Lab at Rees E. Price. I feel full of perspective in realizing that everything happens for a reason, full of pride in seeing those I love flourish and grow, and full of hope for what's to come.
For my final reflection, I want to start documenting the little things that I cherish in the people around me. Really, I take for granted so much that I have that I am grateful for. So in the Year Four page, I'll be documenting the people, places, and occasional things in my life that have changed me for the better. It'll be a good place look for a reminder of what's so wonderful about life. I can't wait to see where this next year will go; no matter what, I'll be carrying the lessons of the past year with me.