Petrichor--Alexis

Cindy Gordon
Cindy Gordon’s husband didn’t love her anymore. However, Cindy decided two first class tickets to Hawaii would change that. If she could get him back to where they swam with turtles and tried octopus for the first time, she knew they’d fall in love again. So, early Monday morning, Cindy woke up to give him a surprise birthday present. She knelt down by his ear and whispered “Happy Birthday!” Slowly, he sat up rubbing his eyes. “I told you I didn’t want to celebrate.” Cindy replied, “I-I know, but I couldn’t wait to give you your gift!” She pulled out the tickets and laid them in front of him. Blankly he stared at the tickets without saying anything. Cindy smiled and said, “We leave in an hour, and don’t worry I already worked everything out and packed our bags.” After a moment he let out a deep sigh and said, “I have a 7:00 A.M. shift at the hospital. Did you call and tell them about our little trip?” Cindy’s smile faded and she shook her head. Scoffing he said, “Looks like you didn’t work it all out then.” Cindy quietly mumbled sorry and began to walk away. Letting out another sigh, he said, “Cind, wait. Maybe Diane can cover for me.” Wiping a tear away, she turned around, “Yeah, maybe.” Cindy knew Diane would do anything for her husband. Cindy Gordon knew her husband didn’t love her anymore. 

Diane Walch
Diane Walch was supposed to have Monday off. Unfortunately, a 6:00 A.M. ringtone woke her up. “Hawaii? With her? You said you were going to leave her and now you’re going to Hawaii together?” she said half awake. “Mondays are my days off, I have to take Sam to school, you know that.” Listening to his excuses, she closed her eyes. “This is the last time, and I’m not talking about filling in, I mean believing you...love you too.” Reluctantly, Diane got ready and ran downstairs. “SAM, BREAKFAST!” In an instant, a little boy in a stained t-shirt and mismatched socks came running down. Diane shuffled through her purse looking for her keys and said, “I just got called into work, I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d take you to school but do you think you can ride your bike? I can ask Ms. Walters next door if she can take you.” Sam shook his head, “Her car smells like cat litter, I’ll ride my bike.” Diane giggled, “Be nice! And please take Kindle, Elm has no sidewalks.” She said she loved him and closed the door, but all Diane Walch could think was that she was supposed to have Monday off. 

Eric Carter
Eric Carter had a crush on Stacy Steinbeck since sophomore year. For as long as he like liked her though, he had never talked to her, until last week. “Hey, it’s Eric right?” she said as she leaned against a locker. Confused Eric asked, “Yeah?” Stacy smiled and popped her gum. “Well, Eric, you know Jason Mendes? He’s having a party Sunday night and I’m going, you should go to.” Standing up straighter Eric smiled and said, “O-Ok.” “Great, just make sure to bring a few cases of beer and chips, Doritos are my favorite.” “Yeah of course, I’ll be there,” Eric said and nonchalantly folded his arms. Eric kept his word. He snuck out, stole his dad’s Mustang, bought the beer and chips and arrived at Jason’s, where he found Stacy Steinbeck making out with some somebody and a beer already in her hand. Eric wasn’t shocked, but it still hurt. After deciding to not let his beers go to waste, Eric had a few and then drove home, or tried at least, the pouring rain didn’t help much. While turning onto Kindle, Eric hit a few cars before crashing his

dad’s into a tree. The rest of the night became a blur. All Eric Carter would remember is the sirens, his dad’s crushed Mustang and that he no longer had a crush on Stacy Steinbeck. 

Zoey Cooper
Zoey Cooper was a “big girl.” She could tie her own shoes and pour her own juice, even screw the lid on. On Monday morning, Zooey was sitting in the back of her dad’s Mercedes on her way to school. As her dad turned on Elm Street, Zoey’s cup fell down knocking the not so tightly closed lid off, spilling fruit punch all over her dad’s seats. “ZOEY!” Her dad yelled as he quickly turned around to pick up the cup. Zoey cried, “I’m so sorry daddy” over and over right up until the moment her dad’s Mercedes hit something in the road. After seeing the little boy lying still on the ground, Zoey Cooper became a “big girl.” 

Sam Walch
Sam Walch loved the smell of rain. He was on his way to school Monday morning and meant to take Kindle Street. However, due to an accident, he had to take Elm Street. He made sure to stay as close to the front lawns as possible. It had just rained the night before for the first time in a while, and Sam had almost forgotten the scent. While pedaling down Elm Street, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was just for a second, but it was enough. Sam opened his eyes just in time to see a Mercedes coming quickly towards him, impossible to avoid. It would only be a moment in time, but it would be his last. Many would blame Elm Street for not having sidewalks, but they’d never know it was much more than that. It was Cindy Gordon wanting her husband to love her again. It was Diane Walch not having Monday off. It was Eric Carter having a crush on Stacy Steinbeck. It was Zoey Cooper being a “big girl.” It was Sam Walch loving the smell of rain.

Father, Stretch My Hands--Alexia

The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said or never explained.
Walking into the room I was greeted with hugs and smiles on everyone's faces, I was happy. Then, my surroundings shifted and confusion filled me. Instead of this sunny day it was now this gloomy atmosphere where the last rose had died. Everything happened so fast and none of it made sense to me, for I was so young and innocent to understand the meaning of death. The realization of never seeing my father again and creating quality memories with him had yet to hit me. I sat in the front pew of the church observing the dark scenery, seeing the wet faces, and hearing the mourning in my relatives voices. I didn’t realize someone so close to me would now be moving so far away from me, eternally. As the years progressed my being began to face the reality. In elementary school the teachers always had the students make cards for mothers and fathers day to give to the respective parent. Every year my brother and I would end up giving the father day cards to our grandpa because he was the only male figure that my brother and I saw periodically. One year though different than the others, I asked my mom why my brother and I had to make the cards if we didn't have a dad. She exclaimed that not only was she our mother but she was our father too. I had never realized that my mom had took the role of the double parent standard and did everything in her power to make my twin brother and I happy. She spoiled us and ensured we were always taken care of. My mother took the part of the mother and the father role. Yet there was always this longing

question of the importance and significance my dad had played in my life. My mother never brought my father up after he passed away, never asked us, my brother and I how we felt about the situation but, I’d like to know more about my father and the importance he played in the short four years he spent with me. I want to meet the family I never knew on my dads side, to hear the significance he played in their lives. I've learned that sometimes life is short but the story behind it is endless. Discovering more about my father will help me discover more about myself, my characteristics and the dad that many people say I resembled.
The topic of my father being gone comes to be so uncomfortable that it's been fourteen years since the death of my father and I never have asked my mother what the cause of my fathers death was. I've never really gathered how my mother dealt with the death of my dad. I sometimes wonder if the death of my father ever meant anything to my mom. Perhaps my mom is just an isionalist and isolates herself from fact that he’s gone. He may be gone but that doesnt mean he has to be out of the picture. As years passed I always wondered if I knew my father was previously ill could I have done something or said something that would have prevented his death. If I had prayed would God had rescued him from this illness. The surprise of his death still shocks me today, if I had known he was ill maybe I would've tried to make even more memories and fulfill his last wishes, but I didn't know. I didn't know i wouldn't see him again. From what i've heard many say my dad was stubborn and always saw the positive in life, in fact many say I

resemble him. Sometimes in moments of silence I picture my wedding day where my dad would walk me down the aisle but then the cloud crushes knowing he's gone.
I’d like to know more about my father and the importance he played in the short four years he spent with me. I want to meet the family I never knew on my dads side, to hear the significance he played in their lives. I've learned that sometimes life is short but the story behind it is endless. Discovering more about my father will help me discover more about myself, my characteristics and the dad that many people say I resembled .

Routine--Caden

At 4:45 a.m., waking up to the smell of coffee and subtle hints of cologne had become
routine. I was never allowed to use my own bathroom; my older sister had completely taken it over, forcing me to use the shower connected to my parent’s room every morning. As I walked past the dense smell of espresso, through the kitchen and living room, I’d flick myself in the head in hopes of not falling asleep. I approached the opening leading into my parent’s room and, as happened every morning, his bright and smiling face would greet me. Living in the mountains was no easy feat, especially considering the fact that my dad and I both had to drive 30 minutes to town each morning (work for him, school for me). He never failed to say a heartfelt goodbye, making sure I knew how much he loved me before heading out. I’d sleepily return the goodbye and tell him to be safe on the icy roads.
The sun was never up; zero period made it seem like I was living most of my life in the nighttime. I drive along the 40 Interstate from my house in Sedillo to my school on the Southeast edge of Albuquerque, going 35 mph as thick snow and quick wind attempt to tear open my car. This was routine. I was listening to the same CD as every other morning (I only had one CD, my car didn’t have aux). I had memorized every single lyric, every interjecting “yeah”, all of the harmonies to the choruses. It was always a long drive: so long that sometimes I could listen to the whole CD! However, this was not routine.
As I take the exit leading to school, I gaze upon the massive, brilliant lights illuminating the stadium. We were really going to practice outside? AGAIN? Nevertheless, I hold my tongue, knowing that I was doing what I loved. It’s over in an instant; we did the same thing we did every other morning. Throw a rounded wooden stick at a piece of circular kevlar, let it rebound, and repeat. Repeat in such a manner that each strike has EXACTLY the same amount of velocity as the one before it. Each stroke has even space between it, creating what we call “rhythm”. We carry this rhythm inside of us, creating an “internal tempo”; a separate heartbeat.
It’s all over; we go inside to put away our equipment and get warm in our enormous coats. The bell rings to go to first period...I sketch a few bars of music in my chemistry notebook... then second bell... falling asleep in World History as snow gives the windows freckles... third bell... this was all routine. Almost everyday except Tuesday I would go to work until 8, count by the hours while the scent of vinegar glass cleaner burns my nostrils. Go home, shower, do homework, go to sleep... I had done this all before.
But where did the unexpectedness of each individual day go? What did I aspire to be? How was I going to live the most fulfilling life possible?
These questions haunt my mind as I continue to go day-by-day... I’m losing time... hour by hour... where did the day go? Shower, do homework, go to sleep...
But wait. There is so much out there... so much that I need to experience...
What is going to happen after High School? All I ever hear about is people failing to accomplish their dreams; under the illusion that as long as they have a stable job with lots of money, they will be happy. Maybe that is the case for some, but not for me. No. I want so much

more. But how am I going to do it? It’s so competitive... I need to have connections... there will always be someone better... I can’t possibly do it... I should just give up...
Take a minute. Catch my breath. Watch as the dancing snowflakes scatter lightly against my window; inhale deeply as the scent of wet pine fills my nose. I’m overthinking again. As I unravel the thoughts that have been tangled in my mind for months, I realize how much I have been taking for granted. The thick scent of espresso, a warming goodbye...
Though our time on Earth is limited, our willingness to achieve is not. As humans, we often allow our lives to become so hectic that we forget what makes us who we are. Along with this, we forget to treat those around us with kindness and respect. Hold on to your individuality and love one another. Find the bright side of all situations, even if failure seems definite.

Toxic Masculinity--Kylie

Throughout history women have faced constant oppression from men in every aspect of life. Although some may argue that today, women have come a long way in fighting this struggle but it’s become obvious that there is still a lingering sense of tension between the sexes. This tension is exemplified through toxic masculinity. Toxic masculinity has not been officially defined in Webster’s Dictionary, however many have come to define it on their own. For example, tolerance.org states, “Toxic masculinity is a narrow and repressive description of manhood, designating manhood as defined by violence, sex, status and aggression. It’s the cultural ideal of manliness, where strength is everything while emotions are a weakness; where sex and brutality are yardsticks by which men are measured...” The more popular website, Urban Dictionary, defines it as, “exaggerated masculine traits like being violent, unemotional, sexually aggressive, and so forth. Also suggests that men who act too emotional or maybe aren’t violent enough or don’t do all of the things that “real men” do, can get their “man card” taken away.” Like all humans, men struggle constantly with the pressures of fitting into social norms and to do “what everyone else is doing.” As a society, we cannot continue to put these pressures on men because the effects are not just toxic to other men themselves, but to women also. Toxic masculinity, on many occasions, teaches men that crying or expressing emotions is a sign of weakness or makes you less of a man, its toxicity displayed as instead of sharing, or seeking help, they bottle things up and try to act “tough” placing an immense amount of stress on their mental health. This issue can even be as extreme as being the leading cause of rape. Obviously

this is no excuse for rapists, however, the more we continue to support this behavior, the longer this line of toxic masculinity will continue.
Another example of toxic masculinity can be seen between fathers and their daughters. By pressuring their daughters into fitting this stereotype for women that has been the same for decades, they are only pushing them away. When daughters bring attention to the frustration and pressures that are caused by their fathers, they mainly tend to brush off those feelings and disregard them, as they do their own. Men commonly use the term “hysterical” to describe women. Hysterical originated from the Greek word hysterika, which literally means Uterus. They believed that women could have womb defects which caused physical and psychological symptoms of distress which was why they called women hysterical. This could also be the reason behind the cultural idea that women are just less capable of being as reasonable as men, this mindset is a core example of toxic masculinity. I encourage women to help put a stop to the long line of toxic masculinity by encouraging men to share their feelings and being cooperative in relationships. By this I mean, don’t tiptoe around trying to please them, stop letting them be the know it all that they think they are, be the strong, independent, badasses that we have come to be. Men, I encourage you to cry a little more, care a little more, and find ways to better control your anger. Don’t allow your “buddies” to control what you do or what you say because you could potentially ruin important relationships in your life. Toxic masculinity has more recently come to the attention of today’s society and needs to be addressed. The first step in making a difference, is to acknowledge that it is relevant and from here we work towards ending this outdated issue.

Artistic Journey--Jackie

When I lived in Camarillo, California at age five, my mother took me to my first art lesson in hopes of discovering something that I would be interested in. At the time, we were lower economic class, as my mother was still trying to figure out her life and secure a stable job after immigrating from China to the U.S., so money was tight, and with art classes being expensive, formal schooling in the arts was a luxury we could barely afford to keep. However, my mother always made sure to provide me with as many opportunities as she could; she struggled through long days to make wages to support me and my ambitions, and when we saved enough money to move to a better area of Southern California, we moved from Camarillo to Rancho Cucamonga, where I enrolled in classes at KidsArt Studio for several years thereafter. It was here where I met my art teachers, Paul and Filomena Perez, who taught me virtually everything I know about formal art and technique. They were alongside me every step of the way in my journey to learn more about the arts, and I blossomed from a naive little girl with no grasp on artistic techniques whatsoever to a mature young woman who amassed years of knowledge about art to produce ethereal works. I studied how to use pastels, watercolor, acrylic, and finally oil paint for many years, and when I finished the standard curriculum set by my studio, I was free to choose which medium I preferred to work with. Not only did I paint landscapes, but I created still-lifes, cartoons, animals, and emulations of famous Impressionists’ art, specifically Camille

Pissarro, in my master artist study program. I became entranced with the way Pissarro used pointillism and seemingly carefree brush strokes to produce the impression of landscapes, and I desired to study his works more deeply. Thus, I attempted to learn and emulate Pissarro’s style and apply it to my own works. Pissarro’s works were my muse, and I viewed him almost as a father figure and a guiding hand along my pathway to knowledge about Impressionism.
Freshmen year of high school, my beloved art teachers moved to Chicago to continue their studies in a master program at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago Visiting Artists Program. Concurrently, I was becoming increasingly busy as I progressed through high school, and these circumstances led me to decide to discontinue studying at KidsArt and work independently at home as a freelance artist. For the next three years, I produced oil paintings at home with a newfound goal in mind: I wanted to do something to give back to my hometown in China, where my roots were. My parents and I planned to host my own art exhibition in Luoyang, Henan, China, where they were born and raised. So, throughout the following three years, I worked day after day to finish over 35 oil paintings, which were shipped to China each summer for my father to store and prepare for my exhibition. The summer of 2018 finally approached, and it was truly an indescribable feeling of euphoria to see my works be showcased in a beautiful gallery, and I was in awe for the most part of this past summer. I couldn’t believe that I had such an amazing opportunity to host my very own art show at 16 years old, and at the conclusion of my three-day show, I auctioned off almost all of my works and raised 40,000 RMB (approximately $6,000) to donate to two local elementary schools! I was even featured in the local newspapers and interviewed by the television station of Luoyang. In this way, I did what I could to pay my respects to my hometown. I saw how young girls were treated still to this day in

the countryside of my hometown: married off once they become teenagers to bear sons for their husbands and never to enjoy the feeling of learning and the opportunities that education brings in attempts to uplift their quality of life. I feel extremely blessed and grateful for all the opportunities I have here in the States, and I wanted to help ameliorate the conditions of the local education systems with more funds to acquire resources to better educate children in the rural areas. Hosting my own art show was not only an incredibly developing and eye-opening experience for me as an artist, but one filled with joy in seeing how my works have been spread to my family and friends in China and a chance for me to do something worthwhile for others through something that I love to do.

How to be a great performer (in dance)--Toby

How to be a great performer(in dance)
Dance is a beautiful,yet misunderstood form of art that many enjoy for entertainment, but aren’t knowledgeable of the intricacies implemented into the performance as a whole. The audience only knows that they are impressed by what is put on stage, however they don’t know how to explain why and how specific pieces attract them. Well I am about to go step by step of how a dancer lures their audience in. 

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1.)Going full out and trying your best
Though many talents revolving around dance, such as flexibility and ones capability to pick up choreography and moves quick, come naturally to some, if they don’t use it and work harder to maintain that talent, they are going to get left behind in the dust while others, who constantly practice and work day and night, pass them up. I remember I was always known to be naturally flexible though I had never taken stretching classes before that, yet when most of my friends started taking technique classes that required that type of ability, they would stretch anytime they could and they had surpassed me and I felt that my limberness had gone to waste. But, once I found a love for styles like ballet, jazz, and contemporary, I fell into the routine of working everyday to further my abilities and

talents as many of my friends had before me like it was muscle memory. And within a few months I had developed so much more as a dancer because I was consistent with putting in all my effort and energy into growing as a performer. As a dancer it is necessary that you give your all because when you don’t you just stay where you’re at instead of learning more, accomplishing more, and setting even higher stakes for yourself. You get caught in a bubble because you’re capable of only doing so much. 

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/39/a2/1e/39a21e78eaeb18638847d2d2924ba766--encouragem ent-studio-ideas.jpg
2.) Facial expressions
In order to create a story and to portray what you’re trying to get across, without facial expressions that can’t happen. And what’s more important is that the feelings that you create with your look and face, is genuine and not overdone because when you’re over the top it takes away from the purpose of the piece. When I was in competition dance during my elementary and middle school years, I first started out only focusing on the dance moves themself and that was it. I never realized how important it was to feel how the music made me feel and to share what my choreographer had in mind for the dance. However, once I entered high school and I became a choreographer I finally acknowledged the significant change emotions made when trying to produce a story through dance; it completed my personal narrative. It is essential that you have facial expressions because without them the piece will just be a piece with dance moves that have no meaning and your message will not get across according to your plan.

http://reappropriate.co/tag/quest-crew/
3.) Technicalities (musicality and dynamic)
The steps I mentioned previously to this one are important to attain, however understanding the technicalities of dance and implementing them into choreography and the way you perform is just as necessary. First, musicality can be defined as understanding where the movement is placed within the music. Going according to the basic counts of 8 is boring, but once you create different relationships between the music and the dance, the audience is more satisfied with how well the performers are able to use the smallest intricacies in the music and how synchronised they are because they all know when to do a specific dance move at a specific time. On the other hand, utilizing dynamic as a tool in style of dancing makes the performance more unique with it’s different textures and levels of energy and the height of movement. The saying that “ less is more” does apply in dance because it is referring to texture. With dynamic a dance isn’t monotone and changes how a dancer’s shape of movement is executed.
https://youtu.be/HOSmGnDN3xk
This link is a video of a group called the kinjaz who use musicality and dynamic very well in their choreography
4.) Individuality
The last step to becoming a better performer is understanding yourself as an artist and what your speciality is as a dancer. Without something unique or that sets you apart from the rest of the dance crowd, you won’t be chosen or noticed within the very competitive world of dance. A very good example of this is my friend and fellow dance team mate,Ethan. If he were to audition against other dancers he could use his talent of tutting to get the attention of those holding the auditions because he knows a style and has practiced it for quite some time that is very difficult to incorporate in improv, yet it’s

so entertaining. He is comfortable with what makes him different and is confident to showcase it when he needs to. If you don’t know yourself and what compliments you, it will show in your in your movement of uncertainty or lack of comfort.
https://youtu.be/_znIgo5xTaE
The link is of a dancer who may not dance the prettiest, but has a creepy yet intriguing style of dance that expresses her special form of art and it impresses the judges.

The Life Journey--Avel

To me, breakdance is, first and foremost, an art. I spend hours in the studio, creating unprecedented, unique movements to stand out among other dancers and discover new manifestations of my body and soul. After all these years, people recognize me because of my original style, and when dancers from other cities and countries ask me for advice, I'm happy to share my knowledge, and I'm incredibly grateful to be part of hip-hop culture.

I had the opportunity to use my talent successfully in a lot of different ways. For the most part, I showcased my talent in world and national championships and dance battles, in which I earned more than 50 awards in solo competitions as well as in team competitions, including multiple 1st place awards nationally and regionally.

I grew up in a small town in southern Russia, where people don't always have the

opportunity to achieve their goals.

At eight-years-old, I created my first team called “Super Boys,” and years later, I became a member of one of the best teams in my home country, Russia,
called “Refresh Crew.”
One of the most difficult problems I encountered as Refresh Crew’s leader was to organize and host a breakdance championship-competition. Here, I gained leadership and management experience through holding meetings with local authorities, searching for sponsors, renting the venue, and inviting guests such as judges, DJs, and MCs from across Russia, all at the age of 14.
world championship “Yalta Summer Jam 2014” (Yalta, Russia) and the world championship “Battle of Styles 2014” (Vladimir, Russia).

In Stavropol, my team (Refresh Crew) and I were performing at almost

every event, including in downtown, at restaurants, for holiday celebrations in malls, and much

more, and that’s how we became recognized by public. Because of our experience, we made a

trustful and popular name for ourselves, and even the mayor of our city and neighboring cities

were inviting us to perform at government events and in city hall. I went on to eventually

become a leader of Refresh Crew, and gained valuable experiences and persevered through

struggles.

Personally, I was hired by a local dance studio at 14, where I started teaching people how

to dance and receiving my first real, self-earned money. Often, I was going to orphanages to

present my workshops for kids there, as my father owned a charity called Helping Hand, which I

often volunteered at. I always longed to become a person who my parents would be proud of,

and in 2014, after 6 year of practice, my dream became a reality: I triumphed as the champion in

two world competitions for youth dancers: the

I still

remember the overwhelming support and pride of my family and team, and this moment inspired

me to never stop dancing.

There were also special experiences I had, such as performing at the closing ceremony of the Winter Paralympic Games 2014 in Sochi, Russia with a group of the best dancers from all across Russia. For 5 years, me and my team “Refresh Crew” were sponsored by the largest oil

company in Europe and Turkey - Gazprom. The company sponsored my team, paid for all our expenses to travel around Russia and compete at monumental competitions, and through these experiences, I made some of my most interesting and genuinely fun memories with my team and the new people I met along the way. I felt so honored to be sponsored by the richest company in Russia, and the opportunities they provided my team and I allowed me to grow as a dancer.
I also had the experience of playing the lead character in the play "The Star Child" by Oscar Wilde at the local theatre in my city, Stavropol, in which I mixed my dancing skills with acting skills. In 2016, I decided to move out from my parents’ house to the capital of Russia because of better educational opportunities in Moscow, and there, I opened my very own dance studio with more than 20 students. I found and rented the place, figured out all the legal and financial requirements for opening the studio, and advertised it in a new city that I’d never lived in before. This is one of my most significant achievements, and I created indelible bonds with my students here. Later on, I was honored to be a part of a team of 10 of the best dancers in Russia to represent the southern half of Russia called “South Team” in the main competition between southern and northern Russian dancers called the “V1 battle” in Saint Petersburg. Here, there were no winners or losers, but rather was an exhibition of talent from each half of the country, in which I was called multiple times to showcase my skill. In that same year, I visited the U.S. for the first time with my family, and my younger brother and I took 1st place at a competition in Fresno, California called “Mp Boy Jam 2016.” Also, in 2017, I won one more competition during my second trip to the U.S. known as “Galactic Zone 2017.” After one month in the States, I returned back to Russia and placed 5th place in the national rank for the Youth Olympic Games 2018 for Breakdance for the Russian Federation. I had continued to compete in the Games, but unfortunately had to discontinue because of problems between my parents, which ultimately led to mother’s decision move and start a new life in the U.S., so I could not compete, but I will continue to search for and participate in similar opportunities in the future.

Teenagers nowadays cannot simply be themselves due to the influence of public opinion as a paramount measurement of our lives; social networks force us to imitate imposed ideals. However, I do not let these hindrances staunch my journey of self-expression, and regardless of these encumbrances, I articulate myself through dancing; being a dancer with more than a decade of experience, I cannot imagine my life without a constant attempt to achieve a full disclosure of my creative potential.

Regardless of possible roadblocks and setbacks, I passionately continue to

dance and express myself in every creative way I desire, and I hope to find more opportunities in

college where I can make an even bigger impact!