I’m white.

Fair skinned (or so society tells me).

Very pale.

And very, very privileged.

I can stroll down the street or into a restaurant and be quite certain others will respond kindly toward me. I never fear or worry in the slightest about law enforcement. Magazines, movies, and newspapers are plastered with images of people who look like I do. I have never been asked to speak on behalf of my entire race. I can walk around unaware of my color and reap the undeserved benefits and entitlements that come along with my white privilege.

I could also choose to fight against systemic racism one day and completely ignore it the next because I am not disadvantaged by it personally. It doesn’t affect my daily life. But I affect it. Daily. The white privilege woven into my everyday life allows me to collect unearned advantages and opportunities at the expense of others.

Is my white skin really fair skin?

We’ve gotten to a point where in certain situations the color of our skin speaks louder than the words that come out of our mouth. It’s awful. It’s frustrating. It’s downright sickening. It’s the system we have been born into. Our society is saturated in white privilege. Oppression comes based upon skin color. Before a word is spoken, minds are made up about who people are based on appearance alone. Culture screams that the color of your skin determines your place.

My white skin is not fair skin. It gives me an unfair advantage that grants me unearned freedoms, unearned benefits, and unearned exemptions in our society.

I’ve heard a number of people say that they “don’t see color” or are “colorblind” when it comes to discussions about race and privilege. It’s always white people who are making these claims. Go figure. What they mean to say is they don’t consider themselves racist and don’t see themselves as prejudiced against people of color. However, it’s statements like “I don’t see color” that reek of white privilege.

Because with that declaration people are actually discounting racism all together, not helping to solve it.

Ignoring color just further promotes ignorance. As James Baldwin said, “To be white in America means not having to think about it.” Whites are in denial about their participation in the perpetuation of racism. Myself included. While I try to be aware, I know there are still hidden ways that I am contributing to this system of oppression without realizing it. Blindly going about our lives silently, and often unknowingly, oppressing other races is what has to change.

Not seeing color also strips people of their identity. Our differences are there to be seen and celebrated. I believe there is significant purpose in each of our ethnicity backgrounds for the glory of God and the expansion of His kingdom. *Surprise side note: Jesus wasn’t a white American, contrary to popular westernized “Christianity” belief*. Every human is created equal in worth, value, and dignity. I believe God has made us all uniquely in His image and it is the diversity of humanity that makes it so beautiful.

Rather than whites searching for the reflection of themselves in other people, shouldn’t we be looking for the reflection of Christ?

As a church, we need to come alongside our brothers and sisters and stand together in unity – as the family that we are.

Until people of privilege feel compelled to make this problem of privilege their own problem and do something to change it, systemic racism won’t end. We need to consciously have the eyes to see how our white privilege is affecting the lives around us. Until the issue is acknowledged and faced head on, no change will be made.

We have to become listeners and learners.

We have to become mindful of the ways we are contributing to the system of oppression and disrupt these social norms when we see them. Even if you don’t think you are contributing, you are. I’m not accusing you of being racist; I’m saying the problem of racism is much bigger than you and me. It has become institutionalized and ingrained so deeply into every aspect of our society. We have been trained to not see and simply overlook the ways we whites participate in systemic racism. So we actively have to learn to recognize the effects. By interrupting cultural norms we make the invisible visible. We shake the system.

It all begins with breaking the silence.

A dialogue has to start. It is long overdue. The time was decades ago for the conversation to begin between whites and people of color. Rather than assuming we know all the answers, we listen. We listen to the voices of the minorities who have been kicked around because of our privilege.

We listen to the experiences of those who have received unearned disadvantages because of white privilege. We educate ourselves. We remain learners, admitting we will never know all the answers. Instead of turning away or stepping back, we lean into the conversation as we humbly ask, tell me more.

Entrepreneur. How can one word be so powerful and yet so vague? Is it a career path, or is it a mentality? Let’s explore.

Let me ask you: is a clothing store manager that quits their day job to pursue their passion of ceramics an entrepreneur? Is a 12-year-old who codes apps from his bunk bed an entrepreneur? Or how about a stay-at-home mom who holds make-up parties on weekends? Does an entrepreneur have to be a genius, such as Mark Zuckerberg; or can anyone become an entrepreneur? I believe the answer lies in the question itself.

I’ll let Henry Ford explain. He says, “The man who thinks he can, and the man who thinks he can’t, are both right.”

The only person who is limiting your success is the face in the mirror. The examples I mentioned above are true stories of people I know, and I consider them all to be entrepreneurs. Although none of their businesses are related in any way, the mentality to be successful is all the same. Here’s the punchline: if Entrepreneurship is not a career but a mindset, then what kind of person is an “Entrepreneur?”

Here’s how I view it…

In this life, we only have one chance. It’s not a scrimmage. It’s not a dress rehearsal. Entrepreneurs understand that if you don’t build you own dream, you will find yourself building someone else’s. Entrepreneurs are a different breed of human. They seek not to fit in — they seek to stand out. Settling is not an option. If they cannot find the circumstances they want, they go out and create them. An entrepreneur does not seek security; they seek freedom. Living a life with no limitations.

The ability to do what they want, with who they want, when they want and however much they want to do it. They are willing to work 80 hours for themselves rather than 40 hours for someone else. A “9-5” is how to survive, but entrepreneurs do not want to just “survive.” They want to thrive. This is what it means to be an entrepreneur.

I learned this mentality at an early age. My story starts during the 1992 World Series: the Atlanta Braves and Toronto Blue Jays play their final game of the season. On October 25, in the midst of a great playoff, I was born. By 3 years old, my parents divorced.

For years I lived a double life, switching back and forth between each parent’s houses. This constant change of environment has aided me today to be adaptable and very open to meeting new people. At the age of 12, I found out how important money was to life. My single mother had picked up another job on top of going to school and raising me.

This fueled me to want to become independent from her income. In my mind, this meant becoming a man. And as a 12 year old, my image of a “man” was making money and mowing the lawn. So I started my first company at 12 years old, Austin’s Lawn Care.

Let me tell you, if you are an entrepreneur newbie don’t expect your first company to be the winner. Granted, it could be! But I have found many people’s first few ventures are learning experiences more than anything. For those starting off and want to cut down on the learning curve and possible pitfalls, check out some of my previous ventures at www.austinmueller.co .

Each project is a lesson book in itself, and I hope it guides and inspires those who have a dream. Austin’s Lawns took 3 years to be completely self-sustaining with a full team working on the yards every weekend without my direct help. While working at Lifetime Fitness during the week and building my business on the weekends, I found a passion in entrepreneurship. I learned what it was like having a boss, and then being my own boss.

I have to admit, it’s pretty awesome controlling your own schedule and writing your own paychecks.

Building a business is definitely the way to go. By the end of my high school career, The Chamber of Commerce awarded me Entrepreneur of Georgia along with a college scholarship.
After graduation, I attended The University of Alabama, until I realized how ridiculous student loans are (especially for out of state students). By spring of 2013, I was back in my home state attending The University of Georgia.

I believe college is the place where many people find themselves. For so long I wanted to be a doctor. I was biology major for nearly 2 years until I realized, after passing out in a surgical internship, the medical field was just not for me.

At about the same time, I read a book that changed my life called Rich Dad Poor Dad. If you don’t know the story, it’s about a young boy who comes to a crossroad in his life. To learn from his father, who is the head of education and wants him to get a job and become an employee; or to learn from his best friends father, who encourages him to build a business and become an entrepreneur. In the book, he contrasts the mentalities of each father and how their philosophies on life differ. Several years later, one becomes rich and the other becomes poor (I’m sure you can guess the outcomes of each father). Rich Dad Poor Dad is almost a lesson book for rookie entrepreneurs. It was so impactful to me that I changed my major from Biology to Marketing the next day.

Today, I am a passionate marketer. Everything in my life revolves around building brands and showcasing new products. I have found a home in Athens at The University of Georgia, where I will graduate in 2016 with a marketing degree and an emphasis in digital sales.

During the past few years, I have searched for other motivated and success-minded individuals. This is when I came upon the marketing, sales, and management fraternity Pi Sigma Epsilon. Quickly, I fell in love with the environment and took the position of Web Master. Recently, I re-built their website from the bottom up and gave the UGA Gamma chapter an defined online presence.

Austin’s Lawn Care was my first company, but certainly not my last. Since 2004, I have started several companies. Like I mentioned earlier, my portfolio is showcased on www.austinmueller.co along with lessons I have learned though each business. Hopefully you will learn from my many mistakes!

However, it’s important to fail. Because when we succeed we party, but when we fail we ponder.

Some of my biggest times of personal growth were after failures. The exciting thing is, when one door closes another opens. I sold Austin’s Lawns in 2013 and right away the universe opened another door. One of my best friends, Julian Torok, introduced me to some successful entrepreneurs in California. For the past few years, they mentored us and helped us grow a new business we now run out of our homes.

With hard work, countless hours of lost sleep, tons of self-development, a few missed parties, and help from many people along the way, our business has prospered more than we ever imagined. We are still building full speed, and now in the process of looking for the right people to help us aggressively expand. Most of what I do now is mentoring new entrepreneurs to multiply the business across the world.

My vision for the future is simple: grow people, grow your business. There is a statistic that says the average millionaire has 7 streams of income. Being a student of success for a few years now, I have found this is mostly true. Once I have my 7, I will work on my ultimate vision: to start a school for entrepreneurs.

So many people are hungry for success, but have absolutely no idea how to start. Whether it is to develop an app, start a lawn company, or learn day trading, etc., at this school you will learn from true professionals who have real results in their trade. A mentor is so important in the development of an entrepreneur.

Success leaves clues; get around people who have what you want in life and learn. Be a student of success. So there is my vision in the crystal ball! You are welcome to follow my adventures along the way on Instagram @Austin.Mueller, or talk with me through AustinMueller.co! I’m open to connecting with like-minded people, who understand your network = net worth. With the right group of people around you, anything is possible.

Before I leave you, here some friendly advice. I encourage you to go out and get yours! A lot of people give up too easy, are too scared to start, or are just not motivated enough to “make it”. Understand that all of us are self-made, but only the successful will admit it. If things are tough right now, just know that Persistence beats Resistance!

Don’t let anyone steal your dream away from you. If you are hesitant about launching your idea, get around the doers and the dreamers; the believers and the achievers; get around people who will believe in you, even when you don’t have belief in yourself. Most of all, follow these 5 steps to success: BELIEVE // CREATE // NETWORK // MARKET // BUILD. Just repeat these steps over and over. There are so many tools we have today to make entrepreneurship boom.

Way I look at it; we only have 1 chance at this life. We better make the most of it!! Do YOU! Believe and just make it happen! TAKE CONTROL!

MAKE MOVES! Dream Big, Believe Big, Achieve Big.

I am a senior member of the James Madison University Club Cross Country team and have been running since the 8th grade. Currently, I run anywhere between 30 and 70 miles a week. I compete mostly in road races and normally place pretty well, but as far as the competitive running community is concerned, I am about as average as they come.

Barring some radioactive Marvel movie magic, professional running is out of the question for me, which begs the question for many people: “why do you run?”

One of the best quotes I’ve ever seen about running is: “Nothing but the wanting to stop and the wanting to go on and the struggle between the two.”

For as long as I can remember people have asked me why I run or what gets me through the “struggle” of wanting to stop and wanting to go on. Most of the time, I give the cliché answer that most runners give, “if you have to ask then you’ll never understand” or “I want to be healthy.” Honestly that’s not true, not even close.

I can’t speak for all runners but I know I give the cliché answers because it’s easy and it avoids a deep, heartfelt conversation that normally isn’t appropriate for the setting in which the question is asked. For me, there are an infinite number of better reasons as to why I run that are different from the answer I give on a regular basis.

Right now, I want to talk about the most important two.

To begin to answer the question of why I run, one must take a step back and look at my life as an athlete. Growing up I played baseball, football and basketball and was consistently the smallest, slowest, and weakest kid on every team, yet I managed to perform well. As a fifth grader, I was asked to try out for an AAU baseball team and despite my shortcomings, I made the team and played with them for four years. During this time baseball was my life and I was hell bent on becoming a professional.

One summer evening when I was in 5th grade, I vividly remember sitting in my living room watching the Atlanta Braves play like I did every night, ball and glove in hand, while running around imitating everything that my favorite players were doing. After witnessing my enthusiasm, my parents decided to sit down and explain to me how tough it would be to become a professional athlete in any sport. I never really thought about it, I just assumed it was a forgone conclusion.

We argued about it the entire night and I was really angry that they were telling me I wouldn’t be able to do something I wanted so badly. Looking back now, I understand. It’s not that they didn’t think I could do it, but they only wanted me to be prepared and realistic about it.

This might make my parents seem mean and selfish, but in reality I won’t ever be able to repay them for the time they sacrificed for me to play sports. I love them so much for that, but the point remains.

This was the first time I was told I wouldn’t be able to accomplish something and it really stuck with me.

In 8th grade I was finally allowed to participate in Junior Varsity sports, but the theme from my childhood remained; I was undersized, too slow, and too weak. The only difference now was that things were getting more competitive. Just like my parents a few years before, people were more open about telling you what you would not be able to do and what you would not be successful at.

This resonated with me in a way that I cannot even put into words. I became the most competitive person in my high school and worked my ass off to be successful. And it paid off. During my junior and senior year, I was captain of the cross-country team, wrestling team, and track team.

I became the second best wrestler in school history and was the top runner on the cross-country team my last two years. But despite my success, people still had doubts and rightfully so… I was a decent athlete at one of the smallest public schools in the state. Nothing to write home about.

So the first part of my answer to the question of why I run, or even why I wrestle, play baseball, etc., is simply because I want to prove people wrong. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than doing what people say I cannot do. So for anyone out there who has told me that I cannot do something, or has doubted me in any way, I would like to extend my sincerest thanks because you have made me who I am today.

My next reason for why I run is the one that I think about every time someone asks me the question, but I have never had the courage to say it.

Before I get to this last reason I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about one of the biggest influences on my running, Steve Prefontaine. He was the top American distance runner of the early 1970s and died tragically in a car accident at age 24.

Prefontaine changed running in America. He made it popular and entertaining, and was well on his way to winning multiple medals at the upcoming world championships and Olympics prior to his very untimely death. I try to keep him in my mind every time I run.

After I think about Prefontaine, and others who were taken from us much too young, I think about what he could have been, and then I think about everyone else out there. Anyone who cannot run. Whether that is an injured veteran, a cancer patient, or just anyone with any kind of injury that prevents them from moving their legs the way I can move my legs.

I run for them. I run for Prefontaine.

I run for the older gentleman I saw just this morning walking down the sidewalk who could only take 5 or 6 steps before having to stop and rest.

I run for the victims of tragedies such as the Boston Marathon bombings.

I run for anyone and everyone who isn’t fortunate enough to have the opportunity that has been afforded to me. Running makes you feel free and I wish everyone had the opportunity to enjoy it the way I do.

People often ask if I get tired of running and the answer is yes, all the time. But then I think about people who aren’t physically capable of running and how awful that is, and any tiredness I was experiencing quickly disappears.

“Don’t take your legs for granted.”

That’s what I think and that’s what keeps me going. Its gotten me through 9 years of running, countless road races, 3 marathons, 2 half marathons, thousands and thousands of miles and hopefully many more to come.

It will not always be easy and it will not always be enjoyable. Trust me, I’ve experienced a tremendous amount of injuries and failures during my time as a runner and as an athlete in general. But each time that happens, I am inspired again to work harder than I did before.

“Why do I run?”

I run to do what others have continuously told me I cannot do and I run for the people who aren’t capable of running … you are my inspiration and you will keep me going mile after mile.

Colorful crystals, jewels and gemstones drape and sparkle from the 10-foot ceiling, illuminating natural lighting off the open windowpane in Seacrest Studios, emitting sunshine for some that have only seen cloudy and gloomy skies.

The vocals of Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber echo throughout the lobby of the Levine Children’s Hospital in Charlotte, N.C., inviting those who have seen the darkest of days. Stars line the outskirt of translucent glass walls, encompassing a facility with the potential to alter a patient’s life.

The stars don’t represent the ones we wish upon in the night sky, nor the ones that plague our television screens. These stars call the Levine Children’s Hospital their home; they live in the four walls, where they are injected with drugs, hooked to IV’s, and wear hospital gowns and surgical masks.

Inside, these clear walls contain a place where their demons and sickness temporarily won’t torment them.

Open doors welcome children and family to Seacrest Studios, the television and radio station in the hospital where patients aren’t labeled by the number on their hospital wristband, or confined to the two metal wheels that keep them mobile. Patients are given the freedom to be children with no worries in the world, a foreign way of thinking for these children.

Six microphones are arranged in a row, offering patients a way for their voices to be heard –a place where their voice matters. “When we have a patient who is very nervous about getting a treatment or surgery, they see this place as soon as they come in as a place that’s fun, exciting and full of energy,” says Meredith Dean, the director of Seacrest Studios in Levine Children’s Hospital. “A place filled with music and laughter, it’s not something you always see in a hospital.”

Once the patients step through the doors, their faces light up. “They have a lot of anxiety coming in, but when they come into the studio and see what a wonderful and inviting place LCH is, they come alive,” Dean says. “Some of these kids come here very shy and scared to go on air, but when they gain that confidence, we can give them something that will last the rest of their lives.”

Offering a wide range of activities, Seacrest Studios allows the patients to feel unstoppable and empowered.

Patients dance their insecurities away, play games, and win prizes. Therapy dogs visit to lick away the frowns imprinted on the gloomy faces of those that haven’t smiled in months. Bedridden patients can call the studio from the phones in their rooms to talk on-air or request their favorite songs.

“We had a patient who had a stomach tumor who came in,” Dean says. “Once we put her on air she came alive. She hosted her own show and she’s only 8 years old.” Dean adds, “She found this as her job as she was meant to be down here and meant to do this show where she shared her wisdom with other patients.”

Cassidy Hunt, 18, was a patient at Levine Children’s Hospital and considers Seacrest Studios her home while in the hospital. “I visited the studio every day during my three-week stay at Levine’s Children Hospital,” she says. “Seacrest Studios was the only place in the hospital where I felt like a normal teenager, not just a patient.”

Hunt fell in love with the staff at Seacrest Studios. “The staff taught me it’s ok to just let loose and be quirky. They all have such great and genuine personalities, which I definitely think helped not only me, but other patients see that you can be unique and express yourself.”

After restless hours of being probed and prodded by needles and doctors, it is relaxing for patients to unwind after a stressful day.

“I loved that I could get away from the hospital setting and just go and have a good time,” says Hunt.

In the walls of Seacrest Studios, Hunt is not just another patient with a medical diagnosis; she is accepted for who she is. “It showed me that no matter the situation or circumstances you can have fun and good days. There’s no rules or right or wrong in the studio, it’s a place where you can just be you,” Hunt says.

“Our job is to make this place as special and comfortable as it can be in a bad situation,” Dean says. “If we can bring that happiness and that glimmer of hope to at least just one patient who comes in and has the opportunity to be on-air, then we’ve done our job.”

Sitting off of the entrance of Levine Children’s Hospital, Seacrest Studios is positioned immediately after the automatic doors leading patients and families into the unknown. “It’s very unconventional for a hospital to have something as cool as a radio and TV station,” says Dean.

Families and patients are hit with an array of cheerful and vivid colors upon setting foot into a place that will ultimately change their life. “The whole hospital is very inviting, not cold and scary like a lot of other hospitals can be,” she says.

Hundreds of signed celebrity autographs and pictures line the back cabinets of the studio, ranging from music legends such as John Legend, Imagine Dragons and Ed Sheeran, to sport superstars such as Panthers QB Cam Newton and Olympic Swimmer Ryan Lochte, and most recently reality television star from Duck Dynasty and first runner-up on Season 19 of Dancing With The Stars, Sadie Robertson.

No matter how starstruck one may get when their favorite idol visits the studio, these celebrities are here for only one thing: the patients.

“Their experiences are more important than a celebrity,” Dean says. We want them to feel like they are the special person here.” The patients guide interviews with their beloved idols, play Disney Trivia or other games and hang out with the celebrities.

“Having a celebrity have a one-on-one visit with a patient is such an amazing part of one person’s day, but it could also be one of the biggest memories of their lifetime.” Dean says. “Memories they will hold of happiness, joy and hope. Instead of just going to a concert, they get to really talk to them and know them and understand them in a light that’s uplifting.”

During Hunt’s three-week stay at Levine Children’s Hospital she says, “My favorite memory was for sure meeting the Eli Young band. They had a great sense of humor and acted just like normal everyday people.”

The studio currently has 13 interns who volunteer weekly, but for 20-year-old Lauren Quinn, this internship means much more to her than class credit.

The Queens University sophomore wants to give back to the patients, because she was once one of them. “I know what they’ve been through,” she says. “I’ve had so many needles stuck into me. I was basically a lab rat all through middle school.”

Suffering from Mitochondrial disease, Quinn says, “Most people with this disease are hospital-bound, they have oxygen tanks, tubes to give them food and supplements. “These kids are always in the hospital, so even though I look fine on the outside, I’m really sick on the inside. That’s why I wanted to give back to these patients and work in this environment.”

“Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” The faint humming of the clock is an unfriendly annoyance haunting many families that endure hours after hours of nervously anticipating the idea of the very worst. Hours turn into sleepless nights offering no luck in sight, tormented by the pain their loved ones are suffering through.

Spending years in the hospital, Quinn remembers the pain her family felt, “The parents don’t know what’s going to happen to their kids,” she says. “My parents didn’t know what was in store for me. No one knew what was wrong with me.”

“I think people don’t always realize that the siblings are affected just as much, sometimes more than the patients themselves,” Dean says. “The days can get really long sitting in a hospital room all day, but the siblings are able to come downstairs and do something really fun. They can just come down and they feel like they have a fun destination for them to go to.”

Dean witnesses a faint glimmer of hope radiate from the parents’ eyes when they step through the studio’s doors. Sometimes that little spark in their pupils leaves them thinking there may be a happy ending for their child. “Families have just as much fun and it helps the time pass by a little bit faster,” she says.

Quinn wishes Seacrest Studios existed when she was in the hospital during her dark moments of misdiagnoses and unknowingly anxious about her own fate. “I know what it’s like for the unknown. I know how scary it is, and not even having friends understand it,” she says. “It all comes down to putting a smile on their face, because they are so miserable all the time. I know exactly what that’s like so I know whenever one of my friends made me laugh at school it was the best part of my day, so I wish I had someone to make me laugh when I was in the hospital.”

For some children though, the ending of their story may not be so lucky.

Dean remembers a recurrent patient of Seacrest Studios who recently died. “We had a blast towards the end of his life and I know he had good memories here,” she says, still shaken and emotional over his passing.

Dean remembers the jubilant sprit this boy encompassed, “He came in kind of low and depressed and upset, but once he started lip-syncing and dancing, his face lit up with happiness.” Dean remembers Seacrest Studios was his and his families’ escape, “I know that their time spent here meant something to them. This studio meant something to them.”

Inside this magical and enchanted place unveils an electrifying atmosphere with the infectious innocence of a child, where one never grows up.

Similar to the story of Peter Pan and Neverland, patients aren’t restrained to the limitations this world has presented them. Seacrest Studios offers medicine money can’t buy – by helping patients and families leave optimistic, filled with laughter and happiness, with a sprinkle of hope, that one day their stay at the Levine Children’s Hospital will be a memory of the past.

As the day comes to an end, the final sign-off signals a farewell and closure of the studio, but serves as a reminder that tomorrow will offer more tunes, celebrities and smiles; ingredients to the magic medicine that Seacrest Studios brings to patients at Levine Children’s Hospital.

“Good evening Levine Children’s Hospital, You are listening to DJ Curly Q! We will reopen tomorrow! Give us a call at 6-Ryan or 67926 to request your favorite song or visit the studio for fun!”

In proud partnership with The Dean’s List, a digital branding and career services company that empowers young professionals and small businesses.

I want to get some things clear: A rapist does not have to drive a white van. A rapist does not have to be a bum. A rapist does not have to be strung out. A rapist does not have to be Hispanic, or Latino, or Black. A rapist does not have to wear a wife beater or have any gang paraphernalia.

Hell, a rapist does not have to be a guy…

A rapist can have a 401 K.

A rapist can have a trust fund.

A rapist can have a kid, who is cute as a button, and can have pictures of this kid framed all over his house.

A rapist can wear Vineyard Vines (or in my case, a blue button down), be from the suburbs, and look like the complete package.

A rapist can be your friend.

Looks can be deceiving.

I learned that the hard way.

And now that our nation is finally willing to have that “hard conversation,” as they referred to it, in countless post-rape talk and group therapy support sessions, there are still some things that still need to be cleared up.

Rape is never a joke.

No, you did not rape him on the court.

You did not get raped by that test.

Your best friend did not “rape you” when you shriek, in jest, as he or she hugged or touched you in a way that you wholeheartedly welcomed and appreciated.

Rape is not funny. Even if you don’t intend to poke fun, you need to choose your words wisely, because so many people in our country, like myself, are secret survivors in a silent sisterhood (or gender-inclusive community). We are just struggling to get through each day without a reminder of what was taken from us.

The word “rape” is a trigger.

We do not want to be reminded of what we endured more than already necessary; on a near-daily basis (depending on the person), our brains provide us with waves of flashback to those heart-wrenching moments.

Things will never be normal for us. Even in our complacency, survival and endurance epitomize the new normal.

Being pulled into those flashbacks by inappropriate, ill-fitting comments, regardless of the intention, can be trying to any survivor, who already withstands uncontrollable memory-stimulated flashbacks as a means of coping and purging.

When I hear people use the word “rape” in an inappropriate, joking manner, I can’t help but flash back.

I see myself trusting a “friend” to sleep on his couch for the night due to roommate issues.

I see the texts I sent him, making him promise that he would respect me if I stayed over. That he would respect our friendship and just let me couch surf as he would any dude. Preventative measures, because as a girl in this patriarchal world, I knew I had to protect myself.

I see myself accepting a glass of some sort of alcohol from him, because I was too sober to deal with his drunkenness and just wanted to sleep.

I see the pixels of those texts, engorging then retracting, now fuzzy and obsolete, meaningless promises spinning down the drain with my dignity as I immediately black out.

I see myself from an out of body POV, hanging above, waking up, on his couch…my pants are on the ground, I am in his boxers. I have no recollection of the previous night, but I am in extreme pain.

I see the bruises running up my sides.

I see the tears streaming down my face.

I see his goddamn blue button down…one of my triggers, a fixation, as I come to.

I see a loss of dignity, an onslaught of probes, prods, things being taken from me, to ensure that I’m all right because HE took something FROM me.

My “friend.”

Not a stranger…a white, preppy trust fund kid from the suburbs with a good job and a 401K.

One of my close guy friends said it was my fault…that I “asked for it” by sleeping at a guy’s place.

Do guys “ask for it” when they spend the night at each other’s places?

Did I ask to be stripped of my ability to trust?

Every day when I look in the mirror, I still see bruises. Even though I know they are gone, I can still see them crawling up my side, like vines.

We, as a society, need to be more sensitive to the plight of survivors.

We are not victims. We are coping, adjusting to a new normal, riding the waves of traumatic recall, and ultimately, surviving to thrive.

We are not untouchables.

The word “rape” cannot just be thrown around in jest. Similar to “retard” and “gay,” it must be used with consideration…people are and have been constantly affected by such words. These words are our lives (or they have been), and it is not acceptable to use them inappropriately. Think before you speak.

People fear judgment, and that is why they remain silent. Rape is a serious experience, and just because we choose to remain silent, does not entail cowardice. Self-healing is a priority, and nobody should take it upon his or herself to judge those who have survived rape until they walk a mile in their moccasins.

Do not throw around the term…it can cause unthinkable amounts of hurt.

For those who are survivors of rape or sexual assault: it is not your fault. I know that isn’t always reassuring to hear, but after having a few assholes try to weigh you down by saying otherwise, you need to know that nobody has a right to you, your voice, or your body except you.

We need to reevaluate our perspectives on rape culture. We need to realize that not all rapes are the “stereotypical strangers” but that they can hit closer to home then we might think. The best way to prevent is to inform, and I think we can start by sharing our stories, anonymous or not. But remember, you are never alone.

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” – Aristotle. This quote was painted on the wall in the cafeteria of my high school growing up. At the time, I couldn’t appreciate how it truly describes all facets of life. Only after years of learning to be independent in college did the truth become apparent to me. Our everyday habits define us and our search for excellence and happiness.

We’re taught many things from the time we become teenagers to the time we reach our mid-twenties – everything from how to write eloquently, to how the economy functions, to how to program and build computers.

There aren’t any classes offered in college that teach you how to live your life. Presumably, we’ve been taught everything we need to know by the time we’ve ascended to higher education. As a result, most of us have to figure it out for ourselves when we finally leave the nest.

We have an endless amount of temptations in college. Alcohol, various drugs, sex, porn – it’s all easily accessible and we’re entirely responsible for ourselves.

All of us slip up at some point; we give into one or more of these temptations that give us a momentary feeling of happiness and they become deadly everyday habits. That’s the edge of the cliff.

It’s easy to latch on to what gives us what we perceive to be happiness. We’ve never had to figure out on our own how to manage all of our free time, so we spend it doing what feels right.

At some point reality comes back to all of us. These vices, though they seem to promise lasting happiness, never retain their value over time.

This is when the quote from Aristotle hits home.

Real happiness is the net sum of the values we live out rather than those we expect of ourselves. Therein lies the true wisdom of Aristotle’s words. Our actions define us; the habits we build are the secret to our own happiness.

Too often in life we focus on performance and assessment. We are expected to hinge our success on how well we have performed. How am I doing in my job? Am I performing well enough to get that raise? Am I out performing my coworkers? All these things continually keep us preoccupied and focused on this earthly life.

My bible study was over performance and how our performance as Christians and performance in life doesn’t help us have a seat on the throne of God. How well I do in school and how well I do at work have nothing to do with how God sees me and it doesn’t determine whether or not I’ll spend eternity in Heaven.

So why is it we are so consumed by our daily performance? As long as we are saved and we walk with God we are guaranteed a seat at the table with God. With God leading you through life, you will always perform at a high level. He will lead you to the promotion or the raise or maybe even a new job in His timing.

“Let them praise the Lord for His great love and for the wonderful things He has done for them. For He satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.” Psalm 107:8-9

Let us remember that God will always provide in any situation. We may not always understand His plan, but we should always have peace knowing that He will provide for His people.

“I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God! For He has dressed me with the clothing of salvation and draped me in a robe of righteousness. I am like a bridegroom in His wedding suit or a bride with her jewels.” Isaiah 61:10

God doesn’t have performance standards. He created me in His image.

I’m not perfect and will sin along the way, but He has saved me a seat at His throne. I will always give Him praise for all He’s done for me. And I will not forget that He have a plan for me and for you. With His help, I will continue to grow in my walk with God.

The following accounts are true, and there is no fiction or hyperbole present. It may be hard to believe. It may be hard to understand. But, even though it’s been almost two years, I still remember everything as clear as if it were just yesterday.

Before I begin my story, let me provide some context. The Aghori are a very specific sub-sect of Hindu priests. They worship Shiva, the god who plays the role of “the destroyer” in Hindu mythology.

They look absolutely terrifying, smoke massive amounts of pot, live far away from cities, ritually consume human flesh, and bathe in human ashes. As a result, they are feared by the rest of society for their cannibalistic activity, and are considered extremely dangerous due to their constant state of being stoned.

Many people also believe them to be practitioners of black magic, which only adds to the terrifying air of mystery and unknown that shrouds the Aghori. Nobody dares try to interrupt their (sometimes very illegal) practices – neither the people they offend nor the police.

One blistering summer day, a friend, who happens to be an architecture student, called me with an interesting proposition.

He had heard about an interesting structure, a large, ancient gateway running along the top of a cliff almost 500 meters high. In ancient times, this used to be the gateway to the plateau we were situated on. My friend (who will now be referred to as V) loved to go explore abandoned monuments scattered all over the state, and I was more than ready to go photograph buildings in disrepair.

We left the city in central India early the next morning, since we only had a vague idea of where it was located. We figured we’d have to do some driving around to find it. Around three hours later, after driving for miles on tiny dirt paths along the cliff with absolutely no cell reception, we got to the gateway. We were sorely disappointed.

It had been ‘restored’ poorly. They had clearly cut corners and basically just slapped ugly, graffitied plaster and cement on top of the beautiful old stone that was originally the surface. Sadly enough, this kind of ‘restoration’ is getting more and more common with Indian monuments.

Our wanderlust far from satisfied, we decided to keep driving a little further. We were already pretty far out in the middle of nowhere. What did we have to lose?

We could see what looked like the ruins of a small, long-abandoned fort. We couldn’t figure out the actual route to drive up to the fort. Luckily, we saw a man walking along the street who probably lived around there.

V pulled down his window and asked the local for directions to the fort. Before he answered, the local hesitated for a minute, and then finally asked us why we would want to visit such a godforsaken place. We were very puzzled. We chalked it up to “superstitious rural bullshit,” laughed it off, and coerced him into pointing us to the right path.

We drove up closer, parked the car about half a mile from the fort where the dirt path ended, and walked over. The doorway to the fort was pretty imposing. It was a massive brass-lined behemoth with nasty looking spikes protruding from it. Since the door looked too heavy and tall for us to move it, we opted to climb over one of the corners that was now just a pile of rubble.

The inside of the fort was almost completely bare, save a few patches of shrubbery and one solitary, tiny free-standing room right in the center. The room had a closed door on it that looked recently installed, which prompted me and V to exchange a look of slight discomfort.

I think we were both rethinking the local’s warning about this place.

We wordlessly decided to steer clear of the room, and distracted ourselves by walking to the other end of the fort to give it a look. All of a sudden, we caught a whiff of a scent that is all too familiar to anyone who has spent the night in a college dorm – it absolutely reeked of weed.

We looked around, and stumbled upon a rather large crop of weed hidden between the shrubbery. This discovery along with the local’s earlier warning and the lack of cell reception had me and V understandably panicked. We decided to head back to the car and get as far away from this spooky fort as possible.

As we were heading back, we crossed the closed door again. To our surprise, it was now open. From the darkness of the room, a menacingly tall, lean man ambled out and looked towards us, confused.

That was our first sight of the Aghori. The cannibalistic priests.

At this point in time, we didn’t know that he was an Aghori, we just saw a man in a loincloth with matted hair and a huge beard glaring at us. He broke the tension by smiling, and told us not to be scared. He told us he was a “holy man,” and that we had no reason to worry. This did nothing to ease our fear. We managed to mumble a vague greeting. He responded by inviting us into his hovel for a cup of tea. We tried to refuse, but he was having none of it.

Culturally, hospitality is a big deal in India; it would be offensive to refuse someone’s hospitality. He got slightly angry, and asked us if we were really planning on refusing a holy man’s hospitality.

Since the car was at least half a mile away and we seemed to have run out of options, we had no choice but to follow him in. A strange sight greeted us inside. There was an altar with a trident sticking out of it. We were terrified, and we didn’t know what fate awaited us.

Once inside, he took his spot on a pile of rags on one side of the altar, and gestured towards another pile of rags on the other side for us to sit on. There was no further mention of tea. Instead, he procured a chillum (pipe) that looked like it was made from bone, and started filling it up with from two neat little piles. One looked like pot and the other is still a mystery to me.

As he lit a match, he said, “We Aghoris believe this is the way to achieve the closest state to our god in this human form.”

It was then that we finally understood that this man was an Aghori. Considering the horrible rumors prevalent about them in India, we were even more terrified. He took a deep draw from the chillum, and wordlessly handed it to V.

V looked uncertain, so the Aghori told us that it wasn’t an option to refuse an offering to his god. He looked at V with a stern glint in his eye, so V gulped and slowly took the chillum from him. He lit a match, took a small draw, and then started coughing violently. The Aghori seemed to find this funny, and laughed.

He gestured to V to hand the chillum to me. With shaking hands, I pretended to take a draw and faked a cough. He seemed to believe my ruse, and took the chillum from me. At this point, me and V were so far past petrified that we were instilled with a false sense of calm, and we decided to make the most of the situation.

V asked the Aghori for his story. What made him reject all of society and take the path of the Aghori?

What we heard was very surprising – one would assume that a person wouldn’t just choose to become an Aghori. It would be the result of being born into it, or having a very hard childhood and being left with no other options.

What the Aghori told us as he sipped on a glass of water was that he was born into a perfectly normal family. He was in school through middle school like a normal child, but in his teen years, he realized that this was his true calling in life.

He thought he had come into contact with a higher power, albeit through no real critical spiritual experience. He rejected his family and his old way of life to become an Aghori. He ran away from home, searched far and wide for an Aghori, and followed him around until the Aghori accepted him as his apprentice and trained him.

All this time I had quietly been taking pictures with the camera that was still around my neck.

As he was taking his next draw from the chillum, he heard my camera’s soft click. He took a purposefully long, slow draw, all the while glaring straight at me accusingly. Once he finished, he paused for a second, and vehemently asked me whether I had been secretly photographing him.

As I stuttered, he slowly started laughing, told me he was just joking, and it was perfectly alright. He even posed for me while twirling his mustache. A few minutes later, he seemed to have been overcome with whatever he was smoking, and he lay down seemingly in a trance. V and I took this chance to quietly slip out, and hurry back to our car.

Neither of us said a word to each other during the three hour drive back home.

I understand that this story might seem pointless. But this was my first real experience with such deep religious spirituality that it converted me from an atheist to agnostic. As a photographer, this is the story behind some of my favorite shots, a story that I have never before shared with anyone in its entirety.

I can wish for something different forever, but at the end of the day I am simply all that I am. I can strive to change different aspects of myself, but I’m still me. The hardest thing for people to accept is themselves. I still struggle daily to fight against comparison and loving myself, but it’s something I’m constantly striving for. It’s something I got much better at when God helped me.

Throughout high school I struggled with being okay with myself. It was always a constant battle of questioning why I did or didn’t have certain things, but always wishing to be comfortable in my own skin. That uphill battle is exhausting. Thankfully, I have the greatest praying parents in the world, and they constantly encouraged me.

More importantly, they taught me to find my encouragement from somewhere bigger than myself – from God. He has helped me fight against comparison.

Soon after getting out of high school and beginning college was when the transformation began. I started filling my days and thoughts with encouragement from the Bible and favorite speakers like Andy Stanley, Louie Giglio, and Christine Caine.

It’s amazing what can happen when you fill your mind with the right things! A peace came into my heart. A peace that helped me be okay with just being me.

This is still something I fight with. I constantly fall into holes of comparison, and sometimes it seems there is no way out. But I still stand strong in my faith, and I know that being made in the image of God means “all that I am” is exactly the way I’m supposed to be.

“Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him” Psalm 62:5.

Today I just want to encourage anyone who has similar feelings of self-doubt, inadequacy, or are just having a bad day. Don’t let all that God has for you be hidden by these grips of fear and doubt. Wash off the bad feelings, and choose to be joyful!

Christine Caine once said, “The biggest prison people live in is the fear of what other people think.” Today, let’s decide to get out of prison, run in the sunshine, and embrace all that you are.

“Let all that I am praise the Lord;
May I never forget the good things he does for me.” Psalm 103:2

Every day is beautiful if you choose to see it. Continue in fighting against comparison!

“Be the Change” – I had heard this quote when I was younger, but never did it resonate with me quite like it does now. It seems that Ghandi might have known a thing or two.

Growing up I was like any other kid when it came to eating. I may have been a bit picky when it came to items on my plate touching, but other than that, I was just the standard teeny-bopper.

Food was food.

It’s what my mom and dad served me. It’s what gave me energy to play. It’s what all my friends were eating. It was just part of life.

As I grew older, and went away to college, I began to take a greater interest in exactly what I was eating — for aesthetic purposes. I realized that since I was no longer on my family’s meal plan and no longer active with cheerleading, I needed to step it up and put forth my best foot to stay fit. There was no Freshman 15 being had by this chick. I knew that for sure.

I began to listen to what exactly society deemed healthy. This was a process that came in many stages. I call it my health evolution.

This evolution’s first stop was my freshman year of college, a time of heavily processed energy bars, sugar-doused granola, frozen preservative-loaded, “healthy” meals, lots of refined carbs and highly saturated fatty animal products.

I then moved onto the stage of first-kitchen-cooking-excitement.

During my sophomore year of college, I lived in my very first apartment equipped with a full kitchen, where I cooked the heck out of it. I was experimenting with dishes, finding out what I could cook, but mostly trying my best to imitate the delicious meals my mom had made for me at home.

This was all very exciting for me and when I realized how simple and economical it was to cook for yourself. At this point, the term “clean eating” was bounced around in my head as I started following various healthy living blogs, but I didn’t truly understand this concept until much later.

Sophomore year consisted of a great deal of frozen chicken and fish that I would store up and thaw when needed. Since I no longer had my mom or dad to do the “gross” part of cooking, I realized how disturbed I was to work with these dead animal carcasses, touching their slimy, pale flesh, carving into their meek bones, muscles and tendons.

I would usually try to zone out and continue to reassure myself that the after effect would be worth my disgust. This feeling seems to be common with so many people–something I would later note.

Sophomore year was a turning point for my relationship with my body.

My reasons for eating well and exercising transformed from an aesthetic purpose to overall well-being inside and out. At this point in time, my diet consisted of heavy amounts of salmon, chicken, shrimp, cheese, eggs, Greek yogurt, super grains, nuts, and vegetables. I was living my life as healthy as I knew how.

In May 2013, I decided to start my own healthy living blog, entitled CHOWIDO. I had followed so many different blogs of the same sort for quite a while and figured it was my turn to give it a shot. From there on, I was so invested in presenting the best food, the best workouts, and the best lifestyle to my readers, I was head-deep in my own research.

I had come across this diet called “veganism” a few times, but brushed it off as extreme and unnecessary. How could a diet with no meat, cheese or eggs be healthy? LOL yeah right, let me just keep doing my thang.

It wasn’t until I met another blogger from Canada that my opinion was changed. She was just like me, roughly my age, a fitness fanatic, health-foodie chef that had made this vegan transformation on her journey to find her best self. She had me convinced that this lifestyle yielded top-notch health benefits. Still, I couldn’t imagine a life without chicken and fish, let alone cheese and eggs.

I finally decided to test the waters.

In effort to have an edgy blog topic, I decided to try this crazy diet out for myself. I did a trial “vegan week” starting July 5, 2013. During this time, I not only researched foods to buy and meals to make, but watched two life-changing documentaries.

“Forks Over Knives” and “Vegucated” had me question all the information I had grown to know true, the very information I found sacred. Was it really so that meat, dairy and eggs were unhealthy for you?

From discovering that the consumption of animal proteins and fats are directly linked to western world diseases like cancer, type 2 diabetes, heart disease, obesity, osteoporosis, rheumatoid arthritis and realizing the repulsive, violent reality of factory farming today, and the detriment animal agriculture has on our environment, I knew I had to do something.

It’s crazy to think that this all started with my desire to dive into health and wellness research to become the best me I could be, but slowly transitioned into scattered ethical and environmental contemplation of my daily actions. Everything I had known to be kosher was now far from it.

I began to question…

• Why is it that because us humans are more powerful than other species of this planet, we feel that we can exploit them as material products for our own personal gain?
• Since when is it cool to steal bodies, babies, skin or shelter that is not our own?
• Why is society so convinced that consuming dairy and meat is a means of survival when we can receive the same nutrients in a superior form from plants?
• Why is the plant-based lifestyle not catching on like wildfire with all the information out there about it?

I was puzzled now to define what it meant to carry out a healthy diet and by the meat and dairy industry that I had never thought twice about buying into.

Both the disease epidemic and animal welfare angles hit me hard.

I had seen other documentaries related to the food industry and knew it wasn’t pretty, but this was something else. And I could do something about it.

Meanwhile, I was genuinely enjoying the vegan foods I had been preparing. These foods were delicious and there was so much variety to choose from. I wasn’t hungry and I still had plenty of energy, if not more, to complete my workouts.

I got hit hard with criticism though, as I should have expected.

• “You are going to look emaciated!”
• “You won’t get your protein and calcium!”
• “You won’t have enough energy to workout!”
• “But it’s natural to eat animals…”
• “What if you kill your own animal to eat?”
• “What if it’s cage-free/humanely slaughtered?”

Nobody likes to be the odd man out, being criticized for the lifestyle they live. It definitely made me think about everything twice.

I decided to continue on until the end of the summer, as I imagined it would be too difficult upon my return back to college. When the end of summer arrived, the lifestyle had grown on me and I had invested my time into even more research. I wanted to push forward.

Of course when I got back to school, I got a whole other load of people who thought I was crazy, just as I would have if my life had been rewound a few months.

As the school months went on, it was evident that the most difficult part of being vegan was social scrutiny by people who had not done their research. It felt like I was spending all my time and energy convincing people that what I was doing was acceptable, that what I was doing should be okay in the eye’s of society, when in fact, it should be applauded.

There came a turning point about six months into my vegan transition that I realized I no longer needed to defend myself. I would merely give the facts to those who questioned and move on.

I began to recognize all of the incredible benefits I was experiencing.

I felt vibrant! I felt so mentally clear, calm and collected in my daily interactions. I felt so physically lean and was more energized than ever. I had never felt better. And the best part? I could eat as much as I want on this lifestyle of abundance! I made sure to document all of this on my blog.

I realized that the only way to effectively convince people of the positivity in this powerful shift in lifestyle was to lead by example — to be the change.

I, alone, was making a difference, in my own life, the lives of so many animals, and the very Earth we stand on. I felt absolutely empowered knowing the impact I was making. It was now time for people to realize this.

From then on, it was history. I have been vegan now for nearly two years and plan on continuing to do so for the rest of my life. I say with absolute confidence that going vegan was the single greatest decision I have ever made.

Since the beginning of my vegan journey, I have grown an unbelievable amount.

Aside from transforming into a healthier, more vibrant human being, I have grown into a more conscious, more compassionate, more worldly individual. It’s crazy how differently I see the world now than I did just a couple years ago.

Never would I have thought about the process my food endured from farm to plate. Never would I have thought about all the lives I am affecting by choosing which foods to consume. Never would I have thought about the environmental impact of my menu choice.

In effort to do my part, I founded The Veg Club of Virginia Tech in August 2014 to gather vegans, vegetarians and those who are simply interested in the lifestyle to get together to create positive change on campus and in the Blacksburg community. I also served this past year as a student advisory committee member of Virginia Tech Dining Services representing the vegan voice on campus.

I am a changed person. Not only do I live to be my best self, but live so that others may see a brighter tomorrow.

We have much more power and influence on the world than we think.

It’s time we acknowledge that and move forward with change.

Through my journey, I have learned a few important things…

• Question everything. Do not be defined by the status quo. Do not let your life be determined by societal norms and expectations. Do your own research and formulate your own conclusions.
• You count. Never discredit yourself because you are one human being. You can make all the difference in the world. Your dollar is your vote. You have the power to make a vast influence on society.
• Dare to be different. People will always be judged for doing different than their neighbor. There is no right and wrong, just opinions on such. Different is good. Different is what keeps life interesting.

“Heres to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They are not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.” – Steve Jobs

To educate yourself further on this amazing plant-based lifestyle, I highly recommended watching Forks Over Knives, Vegucated, Food, Inc., Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead, Food Matters, Earthlings, and Cowspiracy.

Be the Change. The most effective way to lead others is by example. Exemplify the type of change you want to see and you shall watch it happen. Since July 5, 2013, my life has been altered forever. It has led me to discover where my true calling lies. I aspire to spend the rest of my life changing the world, one plant-based diet at a time.