As a kid, I was adventurous, riding rollercoasters at age five, going on a plane by myself at seven, and willing to travel just about anywhere up through my college years. I am not sure if it was the pandemic or the tragedies we see daily in the news, or maybe just me getting older, but somehow, along my journey, my fearless spirit began to fade.

In April, my boyfriend (of just a few months at the time) proposed a trip of a lifetime, three months of traveling all over Europe while working remotely. In theory, it sounded amazing. I went to Europe in my teens and early 20s and loved it. But three months is a long time away from my family and dog, and Europe feels so distant from home. I was scared to go.

Nonetheless, knowing how much my boyfriend wanted to travel and how wonderful an opportunity and privilege this trip truly is, I agreed to go with him. However, during the three weeks leading up to the trip, I had two separate back spasms/herniated discs, and, for the first time in my life, I fainted and hit my head pretty hard. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not. But I definitely felt very anxious.

Once we made it to our apartment in Barcelona, Spain, I felt slightly more at ease. So far, we’ve walked for miles and miles along the beach, not knowing where we were going or what we wanted to do. We’ve tried delicious food that was possibly worth the ensuing stomachache. And I have attempted to speak and understand a language I do not know. All the while, my boyfriend and I are beginning to learn more about each other’s quirks as we fully live together for the first time.

As I sit here writing in a cafe in Barcelona, eating new food, working on The Unsealed, and listening to various languages in a city I don’t know very well at all, I am now hopeful that getting a little lost in this world will help me find a part of myself that I thought was long gone.

This is a ramp; at first, I took a picture to post on my social media platform to credit Buffalo Wild Wings for having this ‘assistant’ for people like myself who need an alternative to reach their destination. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate not having to worry I might have ‘egg on my face’ before I enter the establishment or my cheeks being red, not because I had spicy wings, but because I fell.

Having two letters attached to my name is hard. These letters are CP. If I wanted to take the ‘steps’ — in my case, the longer route, I would say cerebral palsy, but my parents call me Jake instead of Jacob for a reason, right? Yes, my jokes are making this longer.

As I thought about posting this picture to social media, I pondered, “How could I post this phenomenal demonstration of universal design and make it universally understood?”

As I muddled for an answer, my subconscious blatantly interjected, “Your fudging kidding me, Jake? You know better; this is about your valid desire and craving for others to comprehend your sometimes paralyzing negative thoughts when ‘boxed’ or thinking you are ‘boxed’ because of two letters, CP.

So…after all of that stewing over, I realized the ramp served as a reminder, “I do not only need a ramp for physical assistance; I also need it for mental assistance! Fortunately, I do, and I hope you all do too! Keep unsealing your stories; this UNSEALED family has you!!

Dear Christina,

In Carrie Underwood’s song “Some Hearts” she says “some hearts just get lucky sometimes.” I know that’s true. I am so thankful that you had the courage to ask me if you could room with me and Erin. That “yes” brought me a best friend. I’ll spend a lifetime thanking God for making me lucky enough to meet you, to get to know you—your silly, loving, caring, adventurous, courageous side. It’s as if you were meant to be in my life. You filled a void in my life that I needed to have patched up. You came just after heartbreak, you were the start of a new beginning with healthy, holy friendships in my life.

We were both shy when we started living together not wanting to appear weird to the other. But it didn’t take long for that shyness and awkwardness to disappear and for us to see that we were both speaking the same language. From then on we were sisters. We would go to the gym together to do yoga which always resulted in us goofing off and lots of laughter. Our macaroni and cheese and wine nights are began in the 2nd floor of Carmel and have continued to this day. Along with Erin we created several inside jokes that had us laughing at 4am. We braved a massive power outage together. You riled me up (in a good way) when I needed to be and you were also able to calm me down when I needed to be too. Even though you transferred to a different college the second semester we still stayed in touch and you even came to my graduation which meant a lot to me. We spent that day before my graduation catching up, eating yummy food that we were given for free, and watching Veggietales and Veggies in the House. It was the best way to close out my college career and it meant so much to me that you were there.

Girl, I have to say that I know it was more than fate that brought us together. I think God knew I needed a friend and He knew that together we would create memories and a friendship to last a lifetime. I can’t wait to see what new memories we will create and how our friendship will continue to be strengthened in the years to come. And I will forever be grateful to God for the risk that you took the day that you asked if you could room with me and Erin because it lead to one of the biggest blessings in my life.

Your best friend,

I grew up with migraine, it was like another member of the family. Always there, sometimes quiet, sometimes not but, always pretty need.

I spent my childhood in waiting rooms; chiropractors, neurologists, nutritionists all for my 4 year old brother who was getting daily attacks. As a child there were times this was fun. I would get to miss school to come to the neurologist in Manhattan. I got to know the man at the pizzeria next to the chiropractor so well that he let me put on whatever I wanted on the TV while my little brother was next door getting adjustments on his spine. As a child there were also many times this made me mad and annoyed at my brother. When we had to leave a party or family function because of his attacks, when we didn’t have chocolate in the house because he was on an elimination diet, when I was put in charge of taking care of him when we were are friends houses and their parents didn’t know what to do.

When I wasn’t in waiting rooms I could be found on the other side of a dark bedroom door wishing my mom could come play with me or help me with my homework. Or waiting on the outside of the bathroom or at the top of the stairs while my mother vomit from one of her episodic attacks. I was never allowed to wear perfume because it could trigger an attack for my mom.

When headaches became part of my daily life I didn’t think anything of it. When my vision blurred, I broke out in sweat and it felt like a knife was stabbing behind my eye I didn’t panic, I knew what it was. As I began my career as an occupational therapist my anxiety and depression worsened and I began mental health therapy for this. I casually mentioned my daily pain and my therapist seemed shocked. This was the first time I realized not everyone gets headaches, it’s not part of everyone’s life.

It had always been part of mine and I genuinely didn’t realize it wasn’t part of everyone’s. When these attacks began to worsen and increase in frequency I visited my PCP and asked if I should see a neurologist. Her response “no, you’re young, here’s this medication”. A medication I later found out can make attacks worse when I finally saw a migraine specialist. My good friend a fellow warrior pressed me and advocated to me and after months of the attacks becoming more severe I finally began my journey on living with chronic migraine and not letting it control me.

Hear me out. What does your inner child have to do with leaving your adult 9-5? Well for me, I don’t resonate with my job and never have resonated with working for someone else who clearly doesn’t value you as a person. Working in healthcare has made me realize that many of these companies capitalize on our empathy. I have learned my soul lights up like it used to as a child, when I am working on my spiritual business and empowering women. I am a Latina Woman who comes from two strong and hard-working, immigrant parents. So I am slowly coming out of survival mode because that is all I know. So, being a spiritual business woman does not resonate in the Latino community. However, I have learned that I am worthy of a successful business. As I have embodied this worthiness, I am seeing my spiritual business growing and my creativity unlocking. The reason why I mention the inner child, is because when I was a child, I remember that child being fearless, and never giving a fuck about what others thought of her. That is why I invite you to let your inner child come through and take over. Let your inner child take the wheel or the passenger seat. Put your ego in the back seat. Put that bitch in the trunk. When you are ready to change your life, however you see that fit for you let your inner child come through. When you choose a goal, let your inner child guide you. As you do this, you honor your inner child and you begin to heal that person that needed this empowerment and confidence.

Dear Mom, Here is what makes our relationship special.

I am not the only person in the world who thinks they have the world’s greatest mom. But I am the only one who is right. There are so many reasons why you are a great mom. Growing up, you showed up at every dance recital, soccer game, graduation, and field trip. You did my hair as a little girl, even though you had to chase me around the house with a brush and a bow in hand for 20 minutes to do so. You took me to The Plaza for tea time and to restaurants in the city for lunch dates. And you have supported every dream I have ever had. While I cherish all those moments and memories, what really makes you the best mom is that you have never let me cry alone.

In my worst moments, Mom, you have always been there to listen to, encourage, and give me advice. As a little girl, when I was upset about school or a boy and couldn’t sleep, you would sit in my bed and talk to me until I felt better. To this day, when I am sad or stressed or just need a friend, you are my first phone call. From my first breakup to my assault to the passing of my ex-boyfriend, you have held my hand, wiped my tears and. And somehow, you always make me feel better.

Your warmth, consistency, and wisdom make you a cut above the rest. And as a result, I move through life feeling very loved. You make hard times more bearable and good times more meaningful.

I am so lucky to have you, the best mom in the world.

I love you with all my heart,

Your daughter,

Hollie,
I know I’ve said this one before, but it is Mother’s Day weekend. So, I figured I’ll say it again.
Sunday marks Mother’s Day. Without mothers, none of us would even be here. Most of us only have one mom. If we’re lucky, we come across women who become a person’s second mom.
You’re my second mom. We’ve rooted each other on and prayed for one another when we needed it.
Thank you for always being in my corner.

Its was Thursday, May 11th, 2022, my husband agreed to go to urgent care because he had the pain that of a kidney stone, which he’s prone too. Results of the urine analysis showed traces of blood, consistent with a kidney stone trying to pass. The doctor sent us on our way with meds and a script for an MRI if the stone had not passed in 24 hours. That night my husband tossed and turned, waking me as he got out of bed at like 3 in the morning to go to the bathroom. When I awoke I could see him holding his lower left abdomen, his pain visible by the light in the hall hitting his face as he opened the door, and even more so in his hobbled out of the room. My husband is one of those manly men, he wont show he has anything wrong with him, which is why I became on high alert. I allowed him space in that moment.

I woke up the next morning to hurdle the kids off to school. I texted him on my way to drop the kids off – “Good Morning baby. Get ready, when I get home we are going to the ER to get your MRI.” I had already call the insurance company to see where we could go and was told it was a 45 day approval process for a nonemergency MRI. We were not waiting that long! I could feel the darkness looming, unsure of what the energy was, but heeding the warning it presented. We didn’t even get breakfast because I knew if we did we wouldn’t make it to the ER. My husband highly dislikes doctors let alone hospitals. Also, he had already talked me out of taking him to the ER the two previous days.

My husband was taken back, he explained he had a script for an MRI for the kidney stones but the insurance wouldn’t cover it unless it was emergency or preapproved. He did an MRI and then I was let back to wait for the results with him in his ER room. He was so visibly uncomfortable he sat in a chair rather than the bed. When the doctor entered the room, the darkness was still present and a bit stronger, he explained to us that my husband was being admitted and put on IV antibiotics due to a majorly inflamed bowel of his left side. Its important to note you could see a bulge on his abdomen even through his clothing.

He was immediately administered 2 bags of antibiotics plus a bag of fluids. Once transferred to his admitted room, we realized he was on the surgical ward. In that room is where I found myself face to face with the darkness. This wasn’t just any energy, this energy was death and it was here for my husbands life. I watched for three days as my husband became more and more ill. His skin wasn’t that of the beautiful caramel, white chocolate mix anymore, instead he was yellowish green. His eyes became sunken in and every night I laid in that hospital bed I prayed it was not my last night with him. I could feel me becoming a widow. I could see snippets of my future being a single mom again, carrying my mother in law through the grief of her baby boy. I could see myself being her history repeating itself. I was helpless, powerless! It was as if I had concrete around my feet keeping me in this place of darkness, wrapped in the dark coldness of death.

I vividly remember having to go home and deliver this news to my Mother in law. She doesn’t speak English so I had to go get my niece to translate for me. I gave my niece a small debriefing, I’m so grateful for her receiving the information and not succumbing to the possibility she was going to lose not just her uncle but her god father as well. As soon as my niece and I walked in the house I could see it on my mother in laws face she knew there was grave danger lurking. It was the hardest news I’ve had to deliver. However, I’m beyond grateful for her holding down our home while I tended to our love.

At one point I felt like I was losing my mind! Between being by my husband and children’s fathers side in the hospital, updating his employers, maintaining calm, cool and collected for our three beautiful children, and not having answers for my concerned mother in law and all of my husbands siblings, I was literally running on fumes. I would run to the lobby and eat turkey slim jims for breakfast, lunch and dinner; sometimes not eating at all. My husband wasn’t allowed to eat and I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him because I knew if I didn’t I would never forgive myself for not being with him in his final hours.

On Sunday, I ran home to prepare the kids and house for Monday so I could take the kids to school in the morning. Shortly there after I arrived at the hospital to a voice message from our daughter crying. All I understood out of the message was that our son was out. I called our oldest daughter to find out what was happening. Our dog got out while she was feeding him. I ran to my car to run home and find the dog. As I ran passed the nurses station I heard the voice of death – “You must choose.” I immediately ignored it, as it has no place in our lives to dictate anything. As I went through the back streets looking for our pup before arriving home the voice returned – “Your dog or your husband?” I answered aloud this time; “I will not choose! You have no place here! Nobody will die!” I later found out, simultaneously my husband and mother in law had a similar encounter. My husband was asked “Your mothers life or yours?” My mother in law was asked “Your life or your sons?”

When I arrived home, my mother in law already had found the dog so I went back to the hospital. When I arrived and parked I remember I have my own healing and cleansing abilities and right now we are fighting for my husbands life! Why not do everything possible? I ran back home and grabbed my needed supplies. I ran to my car with everything and hurried off with all my witchcraft to heal my husband! When I arrived my husband informed me he was waiting on discharge papers and we could leave. The most relieving words I’ve ever heard leave my husband tongue.

When we arrived home, everyone rejoiced! The darkness was subsiding, and quickly. My husband started to regain his strength. It was beautiful to pay witness as my husband went from the frail state he was in not to long before in the hospital. To be home with my husband and not be a widow was the greatest gift I could have ever received for mothers day. In the end my husband was diagnosed with Diverticulitis. I am not a widow. My mother in law didn’t have to bury her baby boy. Our children get to live life with Papi by their side. Most of all, our family made it through this life altering event and we made it without life repeating history.

Dear Ralph,

You don’t know me, but I hope that you will get some comfort and love from a stranger with these kind words. Too often we ask children to carry too much, things that they shouldn’t have to carry. Then we facetiously shove the badge of “resilient” onto their lapel. While you most definitely are resilient, you shouldn’t have to be, and your strength came from responding to a stolen innocence at a heavy cost. I see the news stating that you are a wonderful child, an exceptional musician, and a caring brother. And while these qualities are very important to who you are- they don’t speak to you as a human being that didn’t deserve this. What happened to you was wrong on every level and our community should not be making excuses but should be comforting and holding you with our love and sitting with you through your journey to healing.

My heart cries out for you and your family and I hope you understand that you are not at all responsible for any of this. I hope you continue on with your passions and goals. I hope you don’t allow the evil of others to poison your soul with jadedness. And above all else, I hope you live fearless.

With Love,

Dear Angela, Mollie, and Mary Beth:
I’m so glad that we’re all friends with each other after all these years. While our paths crossed at different times when I was at YSU, I’m glad I got to know you just the same.

Angela, you were my co-worker in the Office of Marketing and Communications. We’d talk about this and that pretty much every day. You made me realize that I wasn’t too hip for the room when I was at YSU. You are, and always will be, awesome.

Mollie, you’ve always been most cordial to me. When I found out that you were going to be part of the Youngstown Press Club, my first thought was “Let’s go! I want in!” It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

Mary Beth (MB), what can I say about you that hasn’t already been said by me and your other students? Simply put: You are the best professor any YSU alum could ever had.

Lastly, I consider all three of you as my honorary moms. I love you all very much.

Dear Erin,

I remember the beginning of freshman year of college being worried about if I would be able to make friends as good as the ones I had at home. My naturally shy self wanted a place to fit in and longed for friendships that would be lifelong. Though my floor and I bonded well, I didn’t always feel like I fit in or that my friendships were as deep as I wanted them to be. That is until I met you. We bonded well. Our friendship continued through sophomore year. At the end of my sophomore year I knew I wanted to room with someone different, but didn’t know exactly who. One of my “friends” suggested that we room together. That was probably the nicest thing he ever said and did for me. I asked you if you wanted to room with me and was delighted when you said yes. Little did I know that rooming with you would lead to a lifelong friendship, lots of laughter, and a feeling of family.

We are so different. You are outgoing and extroverted. You start up a conversation with waitresses/waiters, cashiers, and random strangers on the street. You always have the cashier ring up your groceries so you can interact with them, while I rely mostly on self-checkout. I love to joke that you are my emotional support extrovert, as I am shy and like to keep to myself. You are a night owl and I am a morning person. You are from the city and I live in the middle of nowhere. We complement each other very well. What I admire most about you is your confidence, your strength and your ability to overcome adversity. Though you’ve been put through the ringer many times with school and health issues but you always bounce back. People may misunderstand your beautiful heart but it hasn’t seemed to dim the love you have for yourself (and I mean this in the best of ways). We’ve spent many a night laughing together, crying together, had epic photo shoots together and stayed up late talking about the men we like, and the boys we can’t stand. Ours is more than a friendship. It’s a sisterhood. I know that no matter what you’ve always got my back, and I hope you know I’ve always got yours.

You have a zeal for life that is unmatched. You make even the most mundane things fun. You don’t hold back or hide. In a world where people try to be anyone but themselves, you stand out for being authentically yourself. You radiate with joy and uniqueness and it is beautiful to see. You encourage, inspire, and provide a place for me to be my authentic self and I can’t thank you enough for that. I love you girlie and I can’t wait to see what memories we create this summer.

You are one of my best friends and I have no doubt that you will one day be my bridesmaid.

With love & admiration,

In the mid-15th century, you invented the printing press, thereby beginning the spread of the written word across Europe and eventually around the world. As a person who makes his living on the written word, I along with the rest of the writers the world over, want to thank you.

In modern times, we have social networks on the Internet, enabling us to communicate with our friends and family instantly, even if they live halfway across the world.

Everything has to start somewhere. For the spread of the written word, the starting place was the printing press. Technological advancements have enabled people to read books electronically.

If you were alive today, you’d be amazed at how far the written word has come. Thanks for all you’ve done.

Dear Walt Disney,

Like you, I am both a creative and an entrepreneur. Your legacy inspires me beyond measure.

See, this weekend, I visited Walt Disney World, a collection of theme parks named in your honor and developed based on many of your ideas and creations. It’s the second time I have been there just this year and the sixth time in my life. Each time I go to Disney World, I leave amazed. The parks are enormous, and yet they are so detail-oriented. On average, 58 million people visit Disney World and its parks yearly. Each day, the average revenue for Disney World is $82 million. The parks at Disney World are unlike any other amusement park in the world. And the amount of joy you have brought to people’s lives through these parks and your films is never ending and not quantifiable.

When I look up at the castle at Magic Kingdom or the ball at EPCOT, I can’t help but think about how this entire empire started with just a vision and a simple cartoon, and that cartoon is now an American icon known as Mickey Mouse.

While I don’t know how to draw and have no ambition to go into the theme park business, my visions are bigger than anyone else can see. And my starting point is simple. It’s not a mouse like Mickey, but rather a letter – written from one human to another.

Through letters, I want to inspire people, unite different cultures, and catalyze productive conversations on critical social issues that impact our society. My business is still small – in its infancy. But my vision is clear and so big.

Mr. Disney, you give me so much hope and fire to keep marching forward.

For me, Disney World is not just a place for rides, shows, and good food. And your legacy is so much more than the drawings you created. Both are reminders of what is possible with a simple concept, a big vision, and a determined spirit.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Dear Dad,

I can’t remember the exact day or even the precise year that this memory took place. At the time, I was working for MSG Varsity, a high school sports network in the New York metropolitan area. I was probably about two years out of college and maybe 23 or 24 years old. That job was a breakthrough. It was my first steady on-air job. Before getting an offer to work for MSG, I must have been rejected by 100 stations. I was pursuing what many thought to be an impossible career as a TV sports reporter. So many naysayers told me I was wasting my time and my education. But not you, Dad. You told me never to give up on a dream. You told me you believed in me and tried to provide any resources possible to help me succeed.

That’s why this moment, which I am about to share, meant so much to me.

See on this day, I walked into work and everybody was buzzing about Emmy nominations. I was a young reporter in the number one market in the country, so my expectations were low. Then, just as I was about to start writing a script, one of my coworkers told me to check the Emmy nominations. They said they were almost sure they saw my name listed. I don’t remember if I read a hard copy or if I looked at the nominations on my computer or someone else’s computer, but I got a hold of the list, and sure enough, my name was printed twice. In my first year as a reporter, I received two Emmy nominations in the number one market in the country. Before saying anything to anyone, I went into the stairwell and started to cry as I called you to tell you the news.

That’s the moment that is etched in my memory forever. That’s the moment I will never forget. I remember how I felt overwhelmed with emotion and how I could barely even get the words out to tell you. I remember how happy you were to hear the news and how you told me to stop crying.

It wasn’t so much the recognition from the industry or that I got to go to the ceremony and wear a pretty dress that made that moment so special. Don’t get me wrong. All that was great too. But at that moment, I felt I had proved that your unwavering support and belief in me were worthwhile. That you didn’t waste your time or money investing in my dreams.

A decade and change later, I have yet to win an Emmy, even though I was nominated five more times after that. But that moment in the stairwell means more to me than any trophy. That five-minute phone call celebrating with you and hearing the pride in your voice were and are the only prizes that ever mattered to me.

I love you, Daddy. Thank you for always believing in me.

Not a Second Apart

Not a second apart… born 1lbs and 13oz, you were there with me from the second I was born. You were there when I was first put on oxygen — not getting to see where I lived until Three months after May 23, 1996.

You were there when I first cried through those doors, it was you who lifted my head, letting me familiarize myself with what must’ve looked like a jungle… our house; a place you saw just a week before the Jewish holidays.

You were there when I had my first seizure at 2… the same time I was diagnosed with CP, which must have been somewhat of a bitter-sweet moment…after all those doctors I went to, or should I say we went to.

You were there when I first rolled over – which must have seemed like the first night of Chanukah, not knowing how many candles (activities of daily living skills I could do or how many key milestones I could reach).

When I wanted to go to college, it was you that I confided in and we made it through, fast-forwarding to now, when I timidity crawl through the process of finding a job, it is you that always reminds me, to keep being you, no matter how awkward you walk… never stop running to your dreams and jokingly or not jokingly saying, “ if you fall, you know how to get up!”

You are me and I will always love you!

Jake

I had fallen into a career I truly loved, selling floor care, cleaning products, and equipment. It came on the heels of me losing a job with United States Steel, Duquesne Works, in Pittsburgh. The mill closed, and I thought that was it for me, but my mother taught me to have a good work ethic, so out hunting work, I went. I found two jobs being a janitor. I had to provide for my family, so I did what I had to do. Fast forward 18 years after a very successful career. I loved the work, I loved serving others, and that’s what sales is – serving others. After 18 years with a great national brand of floor care products, Hillyard, Inc, they were changing how they went to market. They were slowly removing company sales representatives like me and moving towards independent distributors. I was the last of the company salesmen, and I knew my career was about to change. I was very frightened. I did not want to work for someone else. I had been relatively independent for 18 years and had built a book of customers of over two million dollars. So faced with a decision and scared to death I decided I would start an independent distributorship. I had never done anything like this, but I thought long and hard and wanted to leave something for my three kids. I wanted to leave a legacy and a business for our children, should they want it.

So I got some outside help and put together a business plan. I scheduled a meeting with the owners of the company I worked for and flew out to St Joseph, Mo. to Hillyard Company to present my business plan to the owners suggesting I’d become an independent distributorship, and the rest is history. That was September 10th, 2001. They quickly agreed. I ended my employment with them and took into the work of building Fagan Sanitary Supply Co. Some 20 years later, my children successfully run the company, and I sit here retired on a beach in the Bahamas. It was a frightening but great decision!

Dear Unsealed Community,
When I was in my first semester of college at C. W. Post I was very unhappy. I had never been away from home for any length of time or away from my parents. I was also a very sheltered 18 year old so I was a bit unprepared for the typical college bad behavior that goes on. Adding to this, I did not get along with my roommate or her boyfriend who was always sleeping in the small room with us. All this was a recipe for a case of extreme homesickness. I was heartbroken and needed my parents to be back in my life on an every day basis.
I made the difficult decision to leave a beautiful 4 year college and apply to the community college near my home in Rockland County. My parents thought it was a poor decision. They felt I was cheating myself out of the full college experience. But I needed to sleep in my own room and be in a smaller college environment where it was easier to make friends. I wanted smaller classes and a few more familiar faces at school. That is the beauty of community college.
As I look back on that unusual shift in my life, I feel sure I made the right decision. From the first day in of community college, I was happy. The teachers were interesting and caring. I was able to engage in in depth conversations because the class size was smaller. As the semester progressed, I made some great friends and also did extremely well in all my studies. But most importantly, I was back in the loving comfort of my home. I have much gratitude for my dear parents, Bess and Calvin Kalstein for supporting my decision to take a step back in my life. Sometimes going back is ok because it propels you to go forward.

With love,
Shelley

Almost six years ago, I graduated from Youngstown State University with honors and a Bachelor’s Degree of Journalism. I majored in Journalism, but I always tell people that I had a double-minor at YSU. I technically minored in Communication, but I had another minor: Determination.

Being on the autism spectrum, I attended job counseling. Every week, my job counselor had me try my best to find leads on job openings in journalism. It’s a small field and it’s something that’s easier said than done because of it.

About a month and a half into job counseling, I applied for, and was granted a job interview for, a production assistant’s position at one of the local network affiliates in town.

Days turned to weeks, and the weeks stretched into a few months. By this point, I was well into spring and still had no job. It seemed bleak, but a college classmate of mine told me about a website he was writing for.

So, I applied. Initially, I was declined because I wasn’t in the market of a major Division I athletic program, but I mentioned to the person in charge of onboarding that I’m a fan in MMA and in the fight game, there’s no offseason, just off weekends.

On the strength of that alone, I was hired as an MMA writer. Had I not taken a chance on the fight game, I’m not sure where I’d be today. 2023 marks my sixth year of writing about MMA and my second of writing about soccer.

If you’re willing to take a risk on yourself, the payoff can be something amazing. GO FOR IT!

Dear Mrs. Shuster:
Even though it’s been close to 13 years since I left the halls of Lakeview High School, but you are still my favorite teacher of all-time in my academic career. When I was just eight years old, you introduced me to The Rich Center at Youngstown State.

When I was 10, I was moved to your classroom and enjoyed every minute of it. Several years later, you moved to the high school. At age 15, you had a front-row seat to my pimply adolescence and saw how advanced my sense of humor became.

Around all of the fun we had, as well as going through the trials and tribulations of surviving high school while on the autism spectrum, you and I became family.

I could just see how proud you were of me at graduation that spring day in 2010. You are the best teacher in Ohio, and I consider you my honorary mom.

You’re the best, Mrs. Shuster! I couldn’t have made it through high school without you.