Freshman year of high school - picture it, remember it, blush at the embarrassment, forget it - that is how I usually handle it. You probably learned a little bit of algebra or some random facts about history, maybe even painted a cool pot in art class, but what about the important things? I want you to think of the significant lessons high school taught you. Maybe it is how to make a new friend, or how to treat the ones that you have. Did you learn the value of life? Did you experience something that changed you? Freshman year I transferred schools second semester and had to begin all over (again), so believe me when I tell you I understand the struggle of high school, but one thing that always helped me through was my writing. It was my outlet, my go-to for when I was happy, sad, angry, anxious - I would take out my notebook and write.

A few weeks into second-semester freshman year, I walked into my history class and sat down in the back left as I always do and began to ready myself for the next 45 minutes of lecture. I noticed that my teacher, Mrs. Mehltretter (an amazing woman, who I would later come to know as a friend and a person who cares deeply about her students) seemed troubled. She stood up on her soapbox and began to explain to the class that she witnessed a boy being bullied. She was almost in tears as she told the story about how a boy, whom I knew, was being left out of activities, how he just did not have someone to care for him. This boy was a human just like you and me, but no one would treat him as such and she made us feel his pain, her pain and so I did as usual and began to write:

Imagine there’s a boy- Imagine that you are standing in his shoes, in a dark corner where the sun never smiles and the storm doesn’t cease...

Imagine - Imagine that every time you expect a smile all you receive is a punch to your gut causing intense pain, making you weep…

Imagine - Imagine that every time you yearn for a hand to help you off the ground, you are shoved into the dirt, scraping your knees, causing bloodied elbows…

Imagine - Imagine that every time you crave a compliment or a bit of praise, you are spat epithets

Imagine - Imagine that every time you call a friend to seek advice, there is no one on the other end.

Imagine - Imagine that boy sitting in the opposite corner of the room, weeping in his hands because he has no shoulder to cry on. The boy leans on the wall, hugging it tightly as if it’s the only thing in the world that will let him do so. The only thing that won’t laugh or cause him pain…

Imagine - Imagine that one day, this boy to whom you have turned a blind eye is no longer there.

Imagine that all you see now is a scrap of paper, and a mother clutching this paper, watering it with her tears.

Imagine that you read his note… “I am now in a place where I will always see a smile”

Know - That you could have been his friend

Know - That you could have made a difference.

After leaving her class that day I feel this urge growing inside me to be an activist for change on my campus and in the community I lived in. Imagine is a story not just about the boy Mrs. Mehltretter was telling us about, it is about you, it is about me, it is about every person in this world who struggles to find their calling and a place where they belong. This poem isn't just about the struggle but about the hope that comes with it. Throughout the poem, its title is repeated, over and over again, "Imagine," because we are each capable of imagining a world where "the sun never smiles" but that also means we can imagine a world where it does and that gives me hope. I went on to perform the poem in front of the student body, where I let each and every student and faculty member know they were not alone, I made sure my voice was heard and made a promise to each and everyone that heard it that I was their ally. Later in my high school career, Mrs. Mehltretter nominated me to attend the National Youth Leadership Mission in Washington D.C. There I performed it and was able to spread my message of love and dignity for the human race. The local Diocese even published "Imagine" on their website.

That moment in my history class was such a small event that helped shape me, and what I would do over the next for years and even beyond that. I became an ally for my friends by standing up for what I care about and what I believe in.

What matters to you, reader? What's your story? Comment below and let me know how you made a difference!