Ever since I was young, I’ve been told I have potential. I could be anything I wanted – even President of the United States. My grandmother had magnets made for me with my picture on it that said “Can she become president? You betcha!” I was always told that I could be a lawyer, a doctor, a politician and I liked the idea of having what I thought was a “big job.” It made me feel important and promised my future.

I've always loved to draw, especially when I was young. I had friends who were talented artists, and I learned various techniques from them. I loved drawing and painting, but I only ever saw it as a hobby, I never really saw a future in it. Why would I? I was always warned about being a “starving artist,” and god forbid I became an art teacher.

As I started working, I took as many advanced classes as I could. I even applied to go to the Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy. I took on research while studying there and worked hard to make my parents and grandparents proud. I eventually decided I would either be a doctor or a veterinarian. I loved animals and biology, so I figured that would be the right path for me. Even if it didn’t feel like my dream job, it was certainly something.

When it came time to pick colleges, I was urged by counselors and family to choose a bigger university with more research possibilities. I eventually applied to places like UIC and U of I at Champagne-Urbana. Honestly, I was afraid of going to a big school. I grew up on a farm in a small town, and my high school had only 600 kids. I was uncomfortable with the idea of being lost in the crowd, being another number on an attendance list. I didn’t really make my concerns known though, I just figured going to big school was my only option at the time. If it made my family happy, why not?

A friend of mine from my home town talked to me the summer before my senior year of high school. She was telling me about the various liberal arts schools she was applying to, and Cornell College came up on the list. She told me about their One Course at a Time program, and how they are one of the only schools in the nation to use the block plan for their curriculum. I found out about their make-your-own-major program, their dedication to the arts, their quaint little community in Mount Vernon, Iowa, and about their strong science departments. With only a thousand kids attending Cornell, it seemed like the perfect school for me. I mean, they had alumni who became doctors and veterinarians, so why not? I eventually applied in the fall and was accepted with a bunch of scholarships to boot. Soon, making my decision.

A few months after I started attending Cornell, I became more and more involved in the arts and humanities programs there. I immersed myself in various communities and I participated in whatever art programs I could. I rediscovered my passion for drawing and painting, and it was the best thing that could have possibly happened to me. I began to realize what I truly wanted out of my education, my time at Cornell and ultimately my life; I wanted to paint, to draw, to teach others about shading and lighting and color and form. I wanted to follow my secret dream of becoming an art teacher at a school like Cornell. I was certainly criticized for it; people told me I’d make no money. People told me I was wasting my talents. One of my family members even said, “we didn’t pay for you to go to that science school so you could paint pretty flowers,” but I didn’t care. I finally found something that had meaning, something that I truly wanted to do. As much as I wanted to make my parents proud of me and show others that I was important, I forgot about what was important to

me; I should be doing what I love and making the most of my life, no matter what anyone else thinks.