Through all of the challenges and adversities I’ve faced, there is one activity I’ve consistently despised more than anything: running. I’m a very determined person, but running has always been my vice- the only thing I could never commit to fully. Despite formulating several plans to force myself to run everyday, each attempt yielded the same result: I’d begrudgingly force myself onto the treadmill for ten minutes on Monday, then abandon my plan by Wednesday. In spite of my hatred for running, I convinced myself for many years that it was the only way to keep myself fit. My relationship with working out became especially toxic during Covid my freshman year. Unable to play volleyball during the lockdown, I decided the only way to stay in shape was to run everyday. However, my dislike led me to taking far too many “cheat days”- in fact, I’d find myself taking more days off than I was actually running. I was disappointed with my lack of discipline, but couldn’t seem to find a way to motivate myself. My sophomore year, when we returned to school in-person, I discovered rugby. Although it was one of the most grueling activities I’d ever done, I fell in love. In spite of all the running involved, it didn’t feel like a chore. I loved going to practice and adored my older teammates. Not only did my mental health improve drastically, but also I was physically healthier than I’d ever been. The minute our last game ended, I was already looking forward to next season. However, I completely abandoned rugby–and the conditioning that went along with it–over the summer. When I returned to the rugby pitch in the fall, I was shocked by how out of shape I was. I quickly learned that living a healthy lifestyle meant maintaining my activity all year, not just during rugby season. The summer after my junior year, I was determined not to make the same mistake. My rugby season ended on Sunday, and by the end of the week, I had gotten a gym membership and started going almost everyday. But this time, I wouldn’t force myself to run. I realized what had helped me get into shape as a sophomore: doing what I love. I started to shift my focus from “cardio only” to “strength building.” I quickly discovered that lifting weights didn’t feel like a chore in the way running did. On the contrary, I genuinely enjoyed it. The greatest change I’ve made to work towards a healthier lifestyle is working out not for necessity, but for enjoyment. The moment I shifted my workouts from something I hated to something I loved, I quickly progressed into the healthiest shape I’ve ever been in. Consequently, my mental health has improved greatly since I was a freshman. My health journey has taught me that the key to a healthy lifestyle is finding activities that I truly enjoy; when you love what you’re doing, it never feels like a burden.

Life is confusing. An endless string of decisions, each one bringing unexpected impacts and consequences, contributing to the selection of one of an infinite number of outcomes. Math is different; regardless of how the problem is solved, there is always one right answer. In a world where nothing is guaranteed, math will always provide a backbone of certainty: all roads lead back to one solution. Math is one of the few subjects that allows creative minds to develop their own processes and still reach the exact correct solution. That is one of the many wonders of math. Many mathematical concepts can be solved with a variety of processes. Rather than force students to learn and understand a concept through one specific process, math gives students the opportunity to use methods that they comprehend best. Additionally, mathematical concepts build on themselves in a logical manner. Although it feels like progress in math class moves slowly at times, over just a few years students go from struggling over simplifying radicals to finding derivatives with ease. Basic mathematical concepts as simple as addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, which students learn in grade school, are the basis of some of the most complicated lessons they will learn in high school Calculus classes and beyond. In a world full of surprises and ambiguous decisions, math will always provide concrete solutions.

Rugby is scrapes lining my legs and bruises peppering my arms. Rugby is sweaty scrum caps and muddy cleats. But most of all, rugby is family. I have played on many teams that called themselves a family, but I have only ever been on one where I felt this was true: my high school’s women’s rugby team. Having played volleyball and basketball growing up and through most of high school, I had heard many times that my teams are my family. I always accepted this sentiment, but I began to truly understand when I joined my school’s women’s rugby team. I felt nauseous the whole day leading up to my first practice. I was scared the team would hate me because I did not know the first thing about rugby; I had not even heard of the sport until I started high school. I was used to an environment where “team” really meant “competition;” when only a handful of girls can be on the court at once, every practice is an opportunity to prove that you deserve that court time more than anyone else on your team. To my surprise, I was met with only kind, smiling faces on my first day of rugby practice. The seniors who I was terrified to walk past in the hall told me they understood how nervous I was and taught me how to pass on my first day. Some of the girls I met on that field on a hot, sticky day in March are some of my best friends to this day. Rugby creates an atmosphere that fosters not only competitiveness, but supportiveness. One of the most unique aspects of rugby is the support between opposing teams. Coming from the cutthroat, competitive environment of club volleyball, team dinners with opposing teams took me completely by surprise. I cannot imagine another sport where I could sit down with the team I just won or lost to and enjoy a meal together, recapping the most intense plays of the match. These meals are the epitome of family in the rugby community; no matter how aggressively we may fight, rugby players will always come together to support each other at the end of the day. Growing up with just one sibling, my older brother, I had always wished for a sister. When I joined the rugby team my sophomore year, I had no idea I would be gaining 30 sisters. In a world where women are taught to compete with each other, rugby teaches women to lift each other up: to support each other’s victories even in the face of our own failures. Family is not just biological. Family is a group of people that love and support you unconditionally. Family praises you when you succeed and picks you up when you fall down. Family accepts your mistakes and teaches you to grow because of them.

Through all of the challenges and adversities I’ve faced, there is one activity I’ve consistently despised more than anything: running. I’m a very determined person, but running has always been my vice- the only thing I could never commit to fully. Despite formulating several plans to force myself to run everyday, each attempt yielded the same result: I’d begrudgingly force myself onto the treadmill for ten minutes on Monday, then abandon my plan by Wednesday. In spite of my hatred for running, I convinced myself for many years that it was the only way to keep myself fit. My relationship with working out became especially toxic during Covid my freshman year. Unable to play volleyball during the lockdown, I decided the only way to stay in shape was to run everyday. However, my dislike led me to taking far too many “cheat days”- in fact, I’d find myself taking more days off than I was actually running. I was disappointed with my lack of discipline, but couldn’t seem to find a way to motivate myself. My sophomore year, when we returned to school in-person, I discovered rugby. Although it was one of the most grueling activities I’d ever done, I fell in love. In spite of all the running involved, it didn’t feel like a chore. I loved going to practice and adored my older teammates. Not only did my mental health improve drastically, but also I was physically healthier than I’d ever been. The minute our last game ended, I was already looking forward to next season. However, I completely abandoned rugby–and the conditioning that went along with it–over the summer. When I returned to the rugby pitch in the fall, I was shocked by how out of shape I was. I quickly learned that living a healthy lifestyle meant maintaining my activity all year, not just in season. The summer after my junior year, I was determined not to make the same mistake. My rugby season ended on Sunday, and by the end of the week, I had purchased a gym membership and started going almost everyday. But this time, I wouldn’t force myself to run. I realized what had helped me get into shape as a sophomore: doing what I love. I started to shift my focus from “cardio only” to “strength building.” I quickly discovered that lifting weights didn’t feel like a chore in the way running did. On the contrary, I genuinely enjoyed it. The greatest change I’ve made to work towards a healthier lifestyle is working out not for necessity, but for enjoyment. The moment I shifted my workouts from something I hated to something I loved, I quickly progressed into the healthiest shape I’ve ever been in. Consequently, my mental health has improved greatly since I was a freshman. My health journey has taught me that the key to a healthy lifestyle is finding activities that I truly enjoy; when you love what you’re doing, it never feels like a burden.

Look through all the resources your teacher provides as soon as you get them! Some teachers post virtual copies of study guides or reviews for final exams on their class page or syllabus. Instead of scrambling to fill it out the week before the test, fill it out as you go. You'll know the content better right after you learn the lesson, and you'll be more confident and prepared for your exams.

Sitting in the gym waiting for our final game to begin, the snowstorm outside worsened. With every minute that passed, our drive home stretched from less than five to more than seven hours. I could feel my stomach twisting into knots as rumors circulated about what time we'd get home that night. We'd already missed a day of school for this volleyball tournament, and thinking about missing another day made my head spin. My coach walked up to my team and I sat up in anticipation. "We're going to have to find a hotel that can hold us all for another night," she said. My heart dropped. The corners of my vision blurred. My breathing became rapid and unsteady. I felt like I had tensed my whole body and lost control of it all at the same time. Tears flowed relentlessly down my face. I don't entirely remember what happened from that point on, but I know it felt like the eyes of my teammates were staring straight through the back of my head, exchanging judgmental looks with their friends and parents. I remember feeling dizzy and frantic as I searched for a corner or a bathroom to hide in. None of my teammates seemed worried; some were even celebrating over missing another day of school. So why was I so overwhelmed with this sudden wave of panic and fear? I was completely ashamed of myself. Over the next few days, I dreaded going to practice and facing my team after they witnessed me completely break down over something that seemed so arbitrary. I was convinced they'd think I was childish. Stupid. Insane. But to my surprise, no one regarded me differently at all. In fact, it seemed like they hadn't even noticed the incident. Infinitely relieved, I too pretended it had never happened. Years later, after reaching out to seek medication and counseling, I have finally come to terms with the situation- I had an anxiety attack. Driving home from practice one day this season, my teammate mentioned offhandedly that she was going to be late the next day because she had to meet with her therapist. She must've noticed that her comment caught my attention, because she continued, "I've known I have anxiety for a few years now, and things have just been extra hard lately." I didn't know what to think. All this time, I felt so alone and isolated by my anxiety. I thought people would think less of me if they knew, but here was one of my closest friends telling me that she, too, had anxiety, and I came to a life-changing realization: I didn't care. It didn't make me think any less of her. She was the same teammate who I'd played and laughed with for years, and nothing could change that. This moment changed my life. I'm no longer quiet or ashamed of my anxiety. The more we as a generation hide our struggles with mental health, the more we contribute to the mental health stigma our world suffers from. I'm not afraid to mention that I take anti-anxiety medication. I'm not embarrassed to say that I attend counseling. I speak outwardly about my mental health condition in hopes that I might convince just one person that they are not alone. I share my experience because I am determined to make my generation the one to destigmatize mental health struggles one voice at a time.