"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind screamed at me. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. Long, luscious, moisturized eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them… until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. My classmate tapped me on the shoulder, and I remembered where I was. In my classroom, my teacher asked us to solve the first equation. I began to panic as I realized I'd zoned out and had no idea what formula she'd broken down on the board. I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk as I examined the worksheet before me. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I'd question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. This was a daily occurrence throughout elementary school as I realized and learned to cope with my trichotillomania. I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. But I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You don't have any bottom lashes! No one will think you're pretty looking like that.". I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. In seventh grade, I began to wear makeup. I would swipe sticky mascara over my frayed eyelashes and notice the bald spots on my lids. However, my love for makeup grew as I discovered mascara was a deterrent my stubby fingers couldn't grip. My confidence grew, and I started sharing my issues with trusted friends, an action I was ashamed of doing years before. I was constantly told, "No one would want to befriend a child with a habit as weird as yours." Weird. I grew up believing that I was strange. I had never met another person struggling with the same thing as me. I had never met another person with bald spots on their eyelids the same way I did. I was jealous of people with thick eyelashes and how they could leave theirs alone. It was a life that seemed out of reach. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to no longer allow the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I wasn't beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. But that was an impossible task. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I started conversations with those who were different than me. As I did this, I realized my eyelashes meant much less to a person than I thought. I realized that true friends weren't worried about how my eyelids looked or if my hands were touching my eyes a lot. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. And I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. Struggling with trichotillomania for over a decade has made me view the world differently. I never look at a person and assume their life is perfect simply because they have a smile on their face. As someone who profoundly struggles with a mental disability, I am entirely aware that many individuals silently suffer from issues similar to and much different than mine. I always aim to be kind to those I encounter in society because I know they are likely struggling with something, even if it's not easily identifiable. Although I acknowledge that I may never understand what they are going through, I aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest. To this day, I still deal with trichotillomania. The urges come in waves, and although I am aware I'll have this disorder for life, I have learned some coping mechanisms to deter the picking in some instances. Over time, I have grown confident in my appearance and can now stand up for myself to those that try to shoot me down. I can proudly say I'm no longer ashamed of my disorder, as it is a part of who I am. However, it is not all that I am.

With her perseverance in making her childhood self proud, Malorie Schwartz, a University of Nevada, Reno graduate, made every effort to become a recognized television news reporter and be a bright beacon of light for her loving family and companions.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind shouted. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. As my classmate tapped me on the shoulder, I remembered where I was. My teacher had just asked us to solve an equation. I began to panic as I realized I had zoned out and had no idea what formula she had broken down. As I leaned down to look busy, I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I would question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. Throughout elementary school, as I learned to cope with my trichotillomania, I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. However, I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You do not have any bottom lashes! No one will think you are pretty looking like that." I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I was not beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I realized my lack of eyelashes meant much less to people than I had thought. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends, regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. I now aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind shouted. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. As my classmate tapped me on the shoulder, I remembered where I was. My teacher had just asked us to solve an equation. I began to panic as I realized I had zoned out and had no idea what formula she had broken down. As I leaned down to look busy, I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I would question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. Throughout elementary school, as I learned to cope with my trichotillomania, I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. However, I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You do not have any bottom lashes! No one will think you are pretty looking like that." I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I was not beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I realized my lack of eyelashes meant much less to people than I had thought. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends, regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. I now aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind shouted. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. As my classmate tapped me on the shoulder, I remembered where I was. My teacher had just asked us to solve an equation. I began to panic as I realized I had zoned out and had no idea what formula she had broken down. As I leaned down to look busy, I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I would question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. Throughout elementary school, as I learned to cope with my trichotillomania, I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. However, I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You do not have any bottom lashes! No one will think you are pretty looking like that." I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I was not beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I realized my lack of eyelashes meant much less to people than I had thought. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends, regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. I now aim to uplift others and be a friend to them, as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind shouted. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. As my classmate tapped me on the shoulder, I remembered where I was. My teacher had just asked us to solve an equation. I began to panic as I realized I had zoned out and had no idea what formula she had broken down. As I leaned down to look busy, I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I would question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. Throughout elementary school, as I learned to cope with my trichotillomania, I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. However, I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You do not have any bottom lashes! No one will think you are pretty looking like that." I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I was not beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I realized my lack of eyelashes meant much less to people than I had thought. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends, regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. I now aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind screamed at me. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. Long, luscious, moisturized eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them… until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. My classmate tapped me on the shoulder, and I remembered where I was. In my classroom, my teacher asked us to solve the first equation. I began to panic as I realized I'd zoned out and had no idea what formula she'd broken down on the board. I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk as I examined the worksheet before me. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I'd question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. This was a daily occurrence throughout elementary school as I realized and learned to cope with my trichotillomania. I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. But I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You don't have any bottom lashes! No one will think you're pretty looking like that.". I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. In seventh grade, I began to wear makeup. I would swipe sticky mascara over my frayed eyelashes and notice the bald spots on my lids. However, my love for makeup grew as I discovered mascara was a deterrent my stubby fingers couldn't grip. My confidence grew, and I started sharing my issues with trusted friends, an action I was ashamed of doing years before. I was constantly told, "No one would want to befriend a child with a habit as weird as yours." Weird. I grew up believing that I was strange. I had never met another person struggling with the same thing as me. I had never met another person with bald spots on their eyelids the same way I did. I was jealous of people with thick eyelashes and how they could leave theirs alone. It was a life that seemed out of reach. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I wasn't beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. But that was an impossible task. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I started conversations with those who were different than me. As I did this, I realized my eyelashes meant much less to a person than I thought. I realized that true friends weren't worried about how my eyelids looked or if my hands were touching my eyes a lot. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. And I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. Struggling with trichotillomania for over a decade has made me view the world differently. I never look at a person and assume their life is perfect simply because they have a smile on their face. As someone who profoundly struggles with a mental disability, I am entirely aware that many individuals silently suffer from issues similar to and much different than mine. I aim always to be kind to those I encounter in society because I know they are likely struggling with something, even if it's not easily identifiable. Although I acknowledge that I may never understand what they are going through, I aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest. To this day, I still deal with trichotillomania. The urges come in waves, and although I am aware I'll have this disorder for life, I have learned some coping mechanisms to deter the picking in some instances. Over time, I have grown confident in my appearance and can now stand up for myself to those that try to shoot me down. I can proudly say I'm no longer ashamed of my disorder, as it is a part of who I am. However, it is not all that I am.

"Pluck, Pluck, Pluck," my mind screamed at me. I could see my teacher's lips moving as she drew our math equations on the whiteboard, but all I could think about was eyelashes. Long, luscious, moisturized eyelashes. I would admire them and bat them… until all I wanted to do was "PLUCK!" them out. My classmate tapped me on the shoulder, and I remembered where I was. In my classroom, my teacher asked us to solve the first equation. I began to panic as I realized I'd zoned out and had no idea what formula she'd broken down on the board. I noticed a pile of about six brown eyelashes on my wooden desk as I examined the worksheet before me. "Oh my gosh, are those mine?" I'd question. "What in the world happened?". My hand immediately touched my eyelids, and I felt the smooth, bare, irritated skin on my fingertips. This was a daily occurrence throughout elementary school as I realized and learned to cope with my trichotillomania. I felt uncontrollable and alone. My family was less than supportive. They believed it was a "bad habit," equivalent to a child biting their nails or chewing gum with their mouth open. But I knew this was different. My mother constantly reminded me, "You look like an alien! You don't have any bottom lashes! No one will think you're pretty looking like that.". I was heartbroken that I looked so "repulsive" and grew up feeling insecure about my appearance. In seventh grade, I began to wear makeup. I would swipe sticky mascara over my frayed eyelashes and notice the bald spots on my lids. However, my love for makeup grew as I discovered mascara was a deterrent my stubby fingers couldn't grip. My confidence grew, and I started sharing my issues with trusted friends, an action I was ashamed of doing years before. I was constantly told, "No one would want to befriend a child with a habit as weird as yours." Weird. I grew up believing that I was strange. I had never met another person struggling with the same thing as me. I had never met another person with bald spots on their eyelids the same way I did. I was jealous of people with thick eyelashes and how they could leave theirs alone. It was a life that seemed out of reach. The isolation I created around myself, both internally and externally, is something I work hard towards never feeling again. The shame I felt because I was harming myself and could not stop was unbearable. This childhood experience is one of my biggest motivators to make that little girl I used to be proud. I am working towards graduating high school and attending the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the fall of 2023. I am pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Media Studies and will eventually become a news anchor for a Las Vegas news station. A news anchor, being on television, people seeing my face. What if I go through a picking spree and show up to work with a hole in my eyelashes? What if people judge me for having this condition? These are fears I am determined to push through. My main goal is to allow no longer the judgment of others to hold me back from making the best of my life. In the same way, I am determined to put myself out there when it comes to relationships. I grew up believing that the fewer eyelashes I had, the more unlovable I became. Those closest to me made me think I wasn't beautiful or desirable because of my appearance. That, if I ever wanted someone to be attracted to me, I had to stop picking. But that was an impossible task. So, I began to shy away from people altogether. I was painfully insecure in middle school and would only create friendships with new students, as I believed those who already knew me thought I was a "weirdo." As I entered high school, I began to pry open the hold self-doubt had on me. I started conversations with those who were different than me. As I did this, I realized my eyelashes meant much less to a person than I thought. I realized that true friends weren't worried about how my eyelids looked or if my hands were touching my eyes a lot. To this day, I have created amazing friendships in my life. And I live with self-confidence, knowing that in the same way that I will love my friends regardless of their appearance, they will love me too. Struggling with trichotillomania for over a decade has made me view the world differently. I never look at a person and assume their life is perfect simply because they have a smile on their face. As someone who profoundly struggles with a mental disability, I am entirely aware that many individuals silently suffer from issues similar to and much different than mine. I aim always to be kind to those I encounter in society because I know they are likely struggling with something, even if it's not easily identifiable. Although I acknowledge that I may never understand what they are going through, I aim to uplift others and give them a friend as I wish someone had done for me when I felt at my lowest. To this day, I still deal with trichotillomania. The urges come in waves, and although I am aware I'll have this disorder for life, I have learned some coping mechanisms to deter the picking in some instances. Over time, I have grown confident in my appearance and can now stand up for myself to those that try to shoot me down. I can proudly say I'm no longer ashamed of my disorder, as it is a part of who I am. However, it is not all that I am.

Greetings, my name is Malorie Schwartz, and I am a female high school senior attending Southwest Career and Technical Academy (SWCTA) in Las Vegas, Nevada. As an academically high-achieving scholar, I am in the top 19% of my class with a 3.8 unweighted Grade Point Average (GPA) and a 4.7 weighted GPA. I maintain a leadership position in SWCTA's Key Club as Vice President. I conduct club meetings and coordinate volunteer opportunities and events with non-profit organizations in the Las Vegas Valley. In addition, I am a member of SWCTA's National Honor Society (NHS) and have accumulated over 300 service hours between the two clubs. Outside of school, I am involved with my church, The Crossing. As a young Christian teen, I partake in Youth Group activities, a senior girls' small group, and my church's Student Leadership Team (SLT). Along with these school and extra-curricular commitments, I also work part-time at Pizza Hut for about fifteen to twenty hours weekly. I have overcome a personal tribulation, as my mother dealt with breast cancer while I was in high school. As she underwent harsh chemotherapy and a double mastectomy, I was responsible for her and my younger brother's care. Although this was a challenging time, I stayed strong, optimistic, and faithful as I worked towards improving my future and caring for my family. In my dual-enrollment Political Science 101 class, I entered the Ninth Circuit Civics Contest, debating what our following United States Amendment should be. In my essay, I composed my opinion on the current gender wage gap in our country. I stated that the 28th Amendment should be that "every citizen, regardless of their sex, should be paid wages fair to the work they complete, and never face discrimination." All women can be involved and hold influential positions in STEAM careers. However, many times do not become more involved due to familial responsibilities (as society often expects women to take on the child-care responsibilities) and gender discrimination from employers. STEAM careers are essential to our country's growth and making a change in our communities. STEAM careers and education can solve many of our society's issues. I feel it is more important than ever that women get involved in STEAM majors and careers to lower the gender wage gap and empower women across the United States and worldwide. As a young woman about to enter college, I plan to pursue a STEAM major in technology. At SWCTA high school, I study Website Design and Development, where I have gained coding, computer science, and graphic design knowledge. Likewise, I passed my "End of Program'' exam and gained Career and Technical Education (CTE) credit for the classes. Although I gained an industry background in this course, I found my passion in the Video Production program at my school. In this elective, I gained tremendous knowledge of video production, film techniques, editing, news reporting, and anchoring skills. I have chosen to pursue a degree in Broadcast Journalism at the University of Nevada, Reno. I intend to become a news anchor or reporter for an influential news station. Through my educational experience, I aspire to impact my community and the globe by providing residents with the latest news and occurrences. I want the information I provide to help individuals safely navigate the world and provide positive entertainment to their day.

I distinctly remember the first time I looked in the mirror and realized my eyebrows were growing thinner and thinner. The lack of hair came as a complete shock to me, especially as an eight-year-old girl. I disregarded it for quite some time, especially since I was not worried about my appearance at that age. I began to take the situation seriously when my parents pointed it out. “Why do you have holes in your eyebrows?” they would ask. “Why do your eyelashes seem to be sparse?”. I did not know how to respond to the question, partly because I knew they would be upset with me but also because I did not understand the root of the issue myself. I later came to realize I had a mental health disorder called trichotillomania. It is a disorder causing individuals to experience an uncontrollable urge to pull out their hair. The person may pull out the hairs on their head, arms, eyelashes, or eyebrows. It usually manifests itself around the age of ten and can last only a couple of years or stick for life. I began suffering from trichotillomania at eight and have had it for almost a decade. The disorder is caused by a chemical imbalance in my brain, turning hair-pulling into my coping mechanism for stress and anxiety. I am the most vulnerable when anxious about schoolwork, public speaking, social situations, and other life responsibilities. The worst part was that I was unaware of when I was even pulling my hair, making it difficult to break the cycle. As I began seeing the harmful effects of this disorder on my life, I decided to be vulnerable with my close family and trusted friends as to what was happening. Not everyone was supportive, and even one of my close family members made me feel ostracized and ashamed of who I was. She would constantly tell me that I looked like an “alien” and that people would think poorly of me when they saw what I had done to myself. These impudent comments made me highly self-conscious around others throughout middle school because I was worried people would judge me or ask me why I had holes in my eyebrows. Thankfully, most people did not ask and were supportive. They would help me discover coping mechanisms to work through it and become aware of when I was doing it. To this day, I still struggle with trichotillomania. However, I no longer let it control my life. I do my best to stop picking when I catch myself doing it, but I also do not make myself feel unworthy or inadequate like I once did. Despite the hair I occasionally lack, I have worked hard to be kind to myself and confident in who I am.

On an average Tuesday afternoon in March 2020, I was walking home from school, thinking it was a typical day. I knew of my mother’s doctor’s appointment but assumed it was a check-up. While completing my nightly homework, I overheard my father discussing a serious topic with my mother over the phone. Beginning to worry, I patiently waited for him to get off the phone. As he shakily put the phone down, I asked him what the call was about. He informed me that my mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her diagnosis was frightening for our family, especially since my grandmother passed away from the same diagnosis. When my mother walked into the house, I comforted her the best that I could, but my whole family was very emotional. I had to pull myself together and go to school the next day as if nothing was wrong. The following week, the COVID-19 pandemic closed down all public schools in my area. I was quarantined and forced to stay home amidst my family's tragedy. I could not talk about my struggles with my friends at school and had no escape from the weight of illness and pain in my household. Watching the woman, I looked up to so much as solid and independent become frail and need others' help was tough. As her hair fell out and her weight dropped, it was heartbreaking for me. My mother went through intense doses of chemotherapy and invasive surgeries while I attended school online. I juggled schoolwork while caring for her. Since my Dad works shifts over twelve hours long, I was responsible for providing my family meals, maintaining the house, caring for my dogs, and helping my mom with all her medical and personal needs. My school days during the 2020-2021 school year consisted of cooking my mother's lunch, allowing her to the restroom, or changing her drains from her double mastectomy before signing on to my next Google Meet class. The responsibilities took a toll on me mentally, but I pushed through as best I could. I found that the only way I could get through the pain, fear, and hopelessness I felt was to cling to my faith and be positive. I tried to be a light for my family by helping out in every way possible and prioritizing my relationships with others. I also found my passion for fitness amidst these hardships. Even though I worked towards staying strong, I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor and balling my eyes out. I needed an outlet, so I turned to aerobics and strength training, as well as keeping myself healthy. As I have a treadmill at home, I focused on working on my running and jogging skills. I have consistently worked up to running 5 miles per hour for thirty minutes straight. I am still continually focusing on my endurance. Reflecting on my experiences during this time, I realize that they shaped me into the person I am today. I aspire to find true happiness and peace once again. I hope to be in a career where I can socialize with others and help them find joy by bringing positivity. Since my mom has always been my rock and very comforting to me, even when she went through immense pain and illness, I hope to be vital for my future children too. Luckily, my mother was declared cancer-free in May 2021. I am always grateful that we persevered through these hardships as a family and that I always stayed faithful and optimistic throughout the pain.

Hello, my name is Malorie Schwartz, and I am a high school student attending Southwest Career and Technical Academy in Las Vegas, Nevada. As a Website Design and Development student, I earned CTE credits in Web Design and Video Production. Although I have gained knowledge in technology and coding, I am still deciding what I want to pursue. As a senior in high school, I am constantly feeling the pressure of choosing my college major, which will influence my future career. Since college is expensive, I need to decide my study path now to save time and money. I am considering studying Broadcast Journalism at the University of Nevada, Reno. My final goal would be to become a news anchor for an influential news station in the United States. I have truly enjoyed being a news anchor, video editor, producer, and director for my school's morning show, which piqued my interest in the news industry. This career would bring me a sense of purpose, as I would provide Americans with accurate, non-biased information that they could look to daily to understand what is happening in their communities. I also hope to comfort individuals as they hear my voice and see my face each night as they watch the news. I have always struggled with deciding whether I should follow what my brain or heart is telling me about a career. Although a career in journalism is what I am leaning toward and am passionate about, I have also considered achieving a Communications major. I would then find a public relations, marketing, advertising, or human resources career. Although I feel less passionate about this career, people have told me numerous times that I have strong communication skills. I even was awarded a "Southwest Shoutout" from my school for being a powerful speaker and student role model. The logical choice would be to study Communications, as I know this is where my talent lies, and I would have the best chance of finding a job. I wonder if I would find fulfillment in being excellent at what I do and moving up in the industry, even if I do not have the "passion" for it right now. On the other hand, if I were to follow my heart and ignore the people and statistics telling me to choose a different career path, I would pursue acting. As a child, I loved the idea of being a Disney Channel star or being in a Broadway show. I pursued acting in middle school by being part of our Junior Thespians team and even becoming the star in our fall play. However, once I went to high school, I strayed away from this path due to my school not offering a theater program. I know this is a challenging path, but if I were to succeed in this industry, I would find fulfillment knowing that I pursued my passion and succeeded. Throughout all the academic and career-driven decisions I will have to make soon, I am so grateful to have family and friends who will support me every step. Moreover, I must remind myself that I am young and that changing my mind and pursuing different things is ok. I would instead learn now that a specific career path is not for me more than 30 years later. I am committed to finding the right career and working hard toward what I want. My main goal and hope for the future is that my career will bring me a sense of purpose and joy that'll last a lifetime!

Hello, my name is Malorie Schwartz, and I am a senior in high school attending Southwest Career and Technical Academy in Las Vegas, Nevada. I have been accepted to the University of Nevada, Reno, and plan to attend in fall 2023 while pursuing a major in Journalism and a minor in Communications. While attending high school, working a part-time job, having leadership positions in community-service clubs, and being involved with my church, I have been inspired to practice personal wellness and learn to take time for myself, despite the business of my schedule. I began implementing wellness practices into my daily routine during the COVID-19 pandemic, and with much time and persistence, they have become a habit. Focusing on my physical and mental health benefits how I appear and feel and how I perform as a high-school student and employee. One of my favorite ways of practicing wellness is implementing fitness into my lifestyle. Although I cannot afford a gym membership, I have found ways to encourage movement and partake in strength training within the walls of my house. At least five times a week, I spend half an hour on the treadmill walking/running, participating in aerobic exercise videos, cycling, or lifting weights. Another tactic I use to keep myself motivated, and present is listening to self-improvement podcasts. My favorites are Girls with Goals and For You From Eve. Podcasts like these encourage me to focus on my physical and mental health and work towards what I value. Recently, I have been prioritizing keeping my space organized. I have made it a goal to go to bed every night with my bedroom and bathroom clean so that when I awake in the morning, I begin the day with a de-cluttered environment and, therefore, a de-cluttered mind. Keeping my space clean clears my head and lowers my stress levels. It also inspires me to be productive with my homework and studying. Although it would be easy to fill my time studying or working, focusing on my wellness manages my stress levels and aids my academic success. For instance, getting enough sleep each night allows me to wake up each day ready to learn new information at school. Practicing mindfulness by journaling and reading my Bible nightly gets me in the correct mindset for the following day and helps me understand my emotions. Since exercise helps boost dopamine and serotonin levels, it helps my focus and attention in school. In closing, I am so grateful to have discovered personal wellness benefits. I have experienced the benefits first-hand, seeing how wellness helps me feel healthy inside and out. I feel present in my situations, less stressed, have more energy, and am more confident in my body. I plan to bring the habits I have created with me to college and my future.

On an average Tuesday afternoon in March 2020, I was walking home from school, thinking it was a typical day. I knew my mom had a doctor's appointment but assumed it was just a simple check-up. While completing my homework that night, I overheard my Dad talking with my mom in a rough and stressed voice. Starting to worry, I patiently waited for him to get off the phone. Once he shakily put the phone down, I asked him what the call was about. He informed me that my mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her diagnosis was scary for our family, especially since my grandmother died from breast cancer. My mother's diagnosis came on my grandmother's birthday. When my mother came home, I comforted her best, but we were all very emotional. I had to pull myself together and go to school the next day as if nothing was wrong. The following week, the COVID-19 pandemic closed down schools in my area. I was quarantined and stuck at home while dealing with my family's tragedy. I had no friends to talk with at school about my struggles and no escape from the illness and pain in my household. Watching the woman I looked up to so much as solid and independent become frail and need others' help was tough. Watching her hair fall out and her weight drop was heartbreaking to me. My mother went through intense doses of chemotherapy and multiple surgeries while I was attending school online. I juggled schoolwork while caring for her. Since my Dad works long hours, many times shifts over twelve hours long, I was responsible for providing meals for my family, keeping the house clean, taking care of my dogs, and helping my mom with all her medical and personal needs. Most of my school days during the 2020-2021 school year consisted of making my mom lunch, helping her to the restroom, or changing her drains from her double mastectomy before signing on to my next Google Meet class. The responsibilities took a toll on me mentally, but I pushed through as best as possible. I found that the only way I could get through the pain, fear, and hopelessness I felt was to cling to my faith and be positive. I tried my best to be a light for my family by helping out in every way I could and prioritizing my relationships with others. Even though I worked towards staying strong, I still found myself sitting on my bedroom door and balling my eyes out sometimes. I needed someone to lean on, so I turned to God. As my faith grew, I eventually joined a church and got baptized. My family dealt with this burden for a year and a half until my mom was declared cancer-free in May 2021. As I reflect on the experiences I had during this time, I realize that they shaped me into the person I am today. I aspire to find true happiness and peace once again. I hope to be in a career where I can socialize with others and help them find joy by bringing positivity. As I grow older, I aspire to have a family of my own. Since my mom has always been my rock and very comforting to me, even when she went through immense pain and illness, I hope to be strong for my future children too. I am always grateful that we got through these hardships as a family and that I always stayed faithful and optimistic throughout the pain.

I attend Southwest Career & Technical Academy in Las Vegas, Nevada. I am in the Website Design & Development program, where I gain exposure to the programming industry. I currently hold a 3.8 unweighted GPA and a 4.7 weighted GPA due to excelling in my dual enrollment, advanced placement, and honors classes. On top of my academic success, I am heavily involved in after-school activities. I have been an inducted member of my school's National Honor Society and Key Club for four years. These clubs value community service and leadership strongly. I have completed over 300 service hours between the two clubs. I have found joy, discovered new perspectives, and made unforgettable memories while volunteering. The most memorable service opportunity I have participated in was organizing a Christmas party for youth with a cancer diagnosis. As I talked with the children while helping them decorate ornaments, I realized that, although they have suffered unimaginable hardships so early in life, they continue to be kind and hopeful. I was inspired to practice gratitude and continue to serve my community. When an opportunity arises for me to apply my leadership skills, I seize it. I was elected Bulletin Editor of Key Club in my sophomore year. I created monthly newsletters highlighting our members' achievements and upcoming events. I also ran our club's social media accounts and website. When the term ended, I decided to run for the board again and become the club's Vice President. As Vice President, I organized the meetings and represented our club at significant events. I made it my focus to supply our club's members with lots of different service opportunities. I contacted local non-profit organizations to plan group volunteer events for my club. Outside school, I am part of my church's Student Leadership Team. I meet weekly with my team to organize events for the church's youth and plan volunteer opportunities to get the whole church involved. I have overcome a significant hardship throughout high school while maintaining academic and extra-curricular success. My mother was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer in March 2020, one week before schools shut down due to the COVID-19 pandemic. I was heartbroken watching my mom, whom I love dearly, become so frail. Since my dad works long hours, I cared for her while she went through chemo and was recovering from invasive surgeries. I would constantly use my time between attending classes to address her drains or help her to the restroom. I also assumed the responsibility of caring for my younger brother and pets. One of my particular skills is that I am a powerful public speaker. While enrolled in a communications 101-102 course, I received a 100% in the class and was asked to give speeches outside the classroom to clubs like Speech and Debate and Key Club. My Communications teacher awarded me with a "Southwest Shoutout" award for being a student role model to other students in the class and around the school. I am currently a Video Production 3 student at my school, where I assist with making our school's morning announcements as a news anchor and news story producer/editor. This class is where I discovered my passion for video creation, editing, and being in front of the camera. I am passionate about journalism and plan to study at the University of Nevada, Reno. I plan to become a news anchor for a well-known news station and serve my community by providing essential information. I also plan to continue volunteering for local non-profit organizations and stay involved in community-service organizations like the Kiwanis while in college.

Community service is essential to bringing joy and kindness to our self-serving world. The individuals choosing to use some of their time to lend a helping hand to those in need truly change society for the better. Volunteering gives people a sense of purpose and allows them to meet like-minded individuals with similar interests and passions. Volunteering has been a prominent part of my life since elementary school as a Girl Scout. I began my volunteering journey when I helped sort food out at Three Square and involved myself with more and more non-profit organizations as I grew older. Throughout the years, I have witnessed individuals who are homeless, hungry, terminally ill, mentally ill, and suffering immense hardships. Reflecting on my life, I realize how blessed and privileged I am. Therefore, giving back to my community and spending time with these individuals helps me bring positivity to their lives when they need it most. I am part of multiple community service organizations at Southwest Career & Technical Academy High School. These include Key Club and the National Honor Society (NHS). After being elected Vice President of Key Club for the 2022-2023 term, my main priority was finding and organizing community service opportunities for my members. I consistently planned the service events we provided weekly during our meetings. As I focused on helping the members find a passion for volunteering, I reached out and collaborated with non-profit organizations in the Las Vegas Valley and nationwide. To advertise the service events I had arranged, I used an accessible platform titled the "Service Center," that I designed and updated often. I also organized a food drive for our whole school's participation. Once we had received the donations, I transported them to our local food bank, Three Square. Since I was the face of community service for my club, I was the board member students could come to with questions or concerns regarding volunteering or struggling to find events. The most memorable volunteer experience I have ever participated in was organizing a Christmas party for children diagnosed with cancer in the Las Vegas Valley. As the youth decorated their ornaments and cookies, I conversed with them. I remember one conversation with an eight-year-old girl in particular. She told me about her life living with a chronic illness and her family struggles. As she spoke, I realized that although she had suffered unimaginable hardships so early in life, she continued to be kind, positive, and hopeful. She was quick to help the other children in the group and ask me about my life. Since meeting these inspiring children, I have remembered to practice gratitude and continue to serve my community. Through volunteering, I have found joy, discovered new perspectives, and made unforgettable memories that'll last a lifetime!

On an average Tuesday afternoon in March 2020, I was walking home from school, thinking it was a typical day. I knew my mom had a doctor's appointment, but I had assumed it was just a simple check-up. While completing my homework that night, I overheard my Dad talking with my mom in a rough and stressed voice. Starting to worry, I patiently waited for him to get off the phone. Once he shakily put the phone down, I asked him what the call was about. He informed me that my mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Her diagnosis was scary for our family, especially since my grandmother passed away from breast cancer. My mother's diagnosis even came on my grandmother's birthday. When my mother came home, I comforted her best, but we were all very emotional. I had to pull myself together and go to school the next day as if nothing was wrong. The following week, the COVID-19 pandemic closed down schools in my area. I was quarantined and stuck at home while dealing with my family's tragedy. I had no friends to talk with at school about my struggles and no escape from the illness and pain in my household. It was tough to watch the woman I looked up to so much as solid and independent become frail and constantly needed others' help. Watching her hair fall out and her weight drop was heartbreaking to me. My mother went through intense doses of chemotherapy and multiple surgeries while I was attending school online. I juggled schoolwork while caring for her. Since my Dad works long hours, many times shifts over twelve hours long, I was responsible for providing meals for my family, keeping the house clean, taking care of my dogs, and helping my mom with all her medical and personal needs. Most of my school days during the 2020-2021 school year consisted of making my mom lunch, helping her to the restroom, or changing her drains from her double mastectomy before signing on to my next Google Meet class. The responsibilities took a toll on me mentally, but I pushed through as best as possible. I found that the only way I could get through the pain, fear, and hopelessness I felt was to cling to my faith and be positive. I tried my best to be a light for my family by helping out in every way I could and prioritizing my relationships with my friends. My family dealt with this burden for a year and a half until my mom was blessed to be declared cancer-free in May 2021. I was so grateful that we got through these hardships as a family and that I always stayed faithful and optimistic, even with things seemed grim.