2022 ARIZONA WINNER

Short Essay

"Late one night, after lying awake thinking of a friend I had just found out had passed, I swore to whatever god (or power, or universe that was out there, within the majesty of all the great and wonderful things infinite in possibilities). I swore that I would always try to help anyone who was suffering in silence. I would do whatever it took to make a positive change in another person’s life."
- Cayton O.

In the pursuit of higher education, improvement of oneself is undeniable, with the right intentions and motivations fueling the inner fire within us all. Early on in my first truly honest attempt at long-term sobriety as a 26-year-old man, destitute and as they often say within the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, I was "given the gift of desperation." Stripped of all pride and self-worth, I often recall the particular instance a behavioral health tech at the rehab I had checked into, named Pat N., when he so selflessly and without the expectation of a return or a personal gain, drove me to a T-Mobile, and bought me a phone with service so that I might be able to get a job and begin to work towards independence. With his only requirement being that I call my sponsor every day. As my eyes swelled with tears for the first time in months, I had felt overwhelming gratitude and unconditional love, a concept I had believed to only exist in fairy tales at this point in my life. I began to feel a shift within my soul, a calling so small and faint at first it was not noticeable.

Months progressed, and all the while maintaining sobriety time longer than I ever had since my decade-long, self-inflicted personal hell-of-my-addiction had begun to take form. I had countless numbers of friends pass on during their youth, late teens to early twenties. The typical age hosting the prime of one’s life, in addiction, only spawned pain and loss in the lives of all addicts and the people most dear to them: the innocent family members and friends suffering the loss of life, not as time intended.

"I hope to become an addiction therapist, counselor, or maybe even enter psychiatric practice to help all the mentally ill. I know that what I have learned, the inner growth I’ve felt, and the life-altering experiences that took place because of my reentry into college may not turn out exactly as I planned. But my main goal is to help those in need, destitute, oppressed, marginalized, sick, and suffering.”
- Cayton O.

Late one night, after lying awake thinking of a friend I had just found out had passed, I swore to whatever god (or power, or universe that was out there, within the majesty of all the great and wonderful things infinite in possibilities). I swore that I would always try to help anyone who was suffering in silence. I would do whatever it took to make a positive change in another person’s life. Sometimes as simple as what Pat had done for me, the purchase of a cheap working phone, a good deed with no expectation of return.

I may never use my degree as I originally intended. I returned to college and began pursuing a college education after nearly a decade since I had dropped out, straight out of the gate, after my dual enrollment classes that I so eagerly took during my senior year in high school. I hope to become an addiction therapist, counselor, or maybe even enter psychiatric practice to help all the mentally ill. I know that what I have learned, the inner growth I’ve felt, and the life-altering experiences that took place because of my reentry into college may not turn out exactly as I planned. But my main goal is to help those in need, destitute, oppressed, marginalized, sick, and suffering. My will may waver at times, but my tools and efficiency in doing so will not falter nor fail me.

- Cayton O.