After fun hellos and name games, the first thing we do at Own Your Awesomeness is a scavenger hunt! We divide the girls into small groups and give them a sheet with a map and various activities and destinations to find around Center City. Their task: complete as many of the tasks as possible and take pictures at each one! The groups organize, head outside, and start off in a direction, unintentionally meandering through the city blocks for an hour.
As they wander, girls are often seeing the city with new eyes. They are navigating; they are choosing where to go next. They are on the lookout for beautiful murals and historical plaques. They are figuring out that Broad Street is really 14th Street. They are finding parks and rainbow crosswalks. They are making human pyramids and petting a stranger’s dog. They are opening up and being awkward and being silly and working together.
While the scavenger hunt is a great way for the girls to engage with the city and with each other, it also gets me thinking about the agency and self-determination of navigation. When you know how to get from point A to point B, whether it’s from reading a paper map or having Siri tell you, you can literally get yourself places. You can decide where you go next, how you get there, and why you choose that route. Maybe you want to get there fast because you want to get things started. Maybe you want to take the scenic route and appreciate the environment. Or maybe you want to get there in the cheapest way possible! Once you have the skills to travel, you can go anywhere. Own Your Awesomeness is about building those skills, a little at a time, to unlock for girls the tools they already have.
By Kate Zipin
As we gear up for summer, I am thinking about all the awesome activities ahead, especially being outside. The Eagles Superbowl win a few months ago was another reminder that I don’t know everything about football, but I know enough to enjoy it! My sister had done research on the players and I knew the rules, so we filled in the gaps for each other. The Superbowl may seem like the distillation of American culture, and it can sometimes feel like a gender barrier keeps girls and women focused on the chips and commercials rather than the game.
I love most sports. I grew up playing anything that involved running and teamwork, and ended up focusing on soccer and basketball. As I was growing up, I found that my muscles and intensity put me in a different category from most girls, and I embraced it for a while. I was a tomboy and a competitive athlete, and then puberty hit and I got confused. Do I want to be seen as an athlete first and a girl second? I didn’t retreat from sports, but my internal monologue was not always kind. In high school, I distinctly remember thinking that I didn’t want to be too muscular because that wasn’t feminine. And then one day in class, wearing my shorts before a game, I looked down at my thighs. They were wide and full and I had a moment of sadness that these were my legs. I tensed my thigh and saw the ripples of the quadriceps, the four distinct muscles that link to your patella, your glutes, your hip. My past moment was replaced by awe and gratitude, that I have THESE AWESOME MUSCLES that help me run and kick and be strong. That muscles were meant to do work, to propel, to enhance life.
I teach girls football at Own Your Awesomeness because it checks so many boxes: it’s a way to feel strong and free; it’s a way to appreciate the universal strategies of team sports; it’s a way to uncover some of the mysteries of football in a community of girls. When we get to the park, we start with a few minutes of throwing a football. Some girls are very hesitant to do this, thinking they will look silly. They might! But we are in a group that embraces the silly, the new, the daring, a group that replaces embarrassment with pride and growth. By the end of the hour, girls know the rules to “football lite” and have run around and made throws and missed catches and laughed and gotten sweaty and feel less afraid. Here’s to football for girls! We are breaking down one more barrier and helping to change our internal and external expectations of girls.
Guest Post by Celeste Clancy, OYA Board Chair
I am on the board of the non-profit Own Your Awesomeness which empowers high school girls in Philadelphia through week long summer camps. I joined the board because I have two daughters; one in her late twenties and one in high school. I saw firsthand how programs like OYA that provide an environment for girls to find their own network amongst girls their age and led by strong female role models can really inspire and change a girl.
At one OYA board meeting, we were talking about some marketing material and our Executive Director, Kate Zipin, suggested we use the word, “badass”. I advised that I thought that might turn people off; particularly parents. Full disclosure:I am in my late 50’s, so am a bit old-fashioned. However, last year, I worked a week at one of the summer camp and, in fact, “badass” is what the OYA summer camp is all about!
I thought the word “badass” had a negative connotation, but now I realize that it embodies all that OYA is about: owning your own power, owning your own awesomeness! Stand up for what you believe in! Take charge of your own power! You can do whatever it is you set out to do! You can be vulnerable! You are worthwhile! We at OYA accept and encourage you! You are badass!!
I now embrace the word badass and have learned a very important lesson at my stage of life. I don’t know it all. I can learn from those that are younger than me and be inspired by them as much as I can inspire.
By Jamie Walsh
I used to consider myself very active. I played sports all year round during high school and that’s all I needed to stay in shape. After coming to college, I stopped cold turkey. I couldn’t find the ambition to go to the gym or join an intramural sports team. My lack of activity allowed the freshmen fifteen to sneak right up on me and with little to no motivation moving forward, I continued to gain weight throughout my sophomore and junior year. This is exaggerated, but it reflects how I felt every time I looked in the mirror for a while.
I’m not happy with my body but I’ve accepted that it’s a challenge for anybody to love their body. This school year, I thought that if I was able to go the gym every day just to stay healthy and not focus so much on losing the weight, I’d be more motivated to go. In case you’re wondering, that motivation lasted two weeks.
Temple offers great fitness classes that I unfortunately did not take advantage of my first two years here strictly because I hate to exercise. I decided to change that, or at least attempt it. I challenged myself to attend a different fitness class every day until (maybe) I found something I liked.
Monday – Cycle Core
I’m not even going to pretend I enjoyed any part of this. This is a 35 minute cycling workout followed by 25 minute core workout. Halfway through I decided that this was a stupid idea. While I was dripping in sweat, the girl next to me was smiling as the course got increasingly harder. I’m not sure how anyone smiles through that much pain but I can confidently say cycling is not for me.
Tuesday – Full Body Toning
As much as I hated Monday, I found myself back at the gym on Tuesday. Tuesday actually ended up being a lot better. Full Body Toning is a 50 minute class with a mix of weights and endurance building exercises to build muscle strength. These felt like the longest 50 minutes of my life but I felt amazing afterwards which brought me back Wednesday.
Wednesday – Core and More
I decided to take it easy Wednesday and chose the shortest class offered, Core and More for 30 minutes. “Easy” was clearly not in the workout description for a short session that’s designed to target your midsection. I knew after a 30 minute workout I would be sweaty but I thought I would at least be okay to go right to class after. Again, I was wrong. The class was certainly a challenge and while I’ve come to accept the fact that I will never be able to do a plank, it was worth it.
Thursday – Hip Hop
I have taken one Zumba class in my eighth-grade gym class. I was a cheerleader but I wasn’t very good. Dancing has never exactly been my forte. But I found myself front row, attempting to roll my body in ways I’m still not sure are possible. This may have been the easiest workout but it was by far the most fun. I’ve found myself returning to this class every week with my roommate. It was by far the most I’ve pushed myself out of my comfort zone during this week but the most rewarding.
Friday – Tabata and Yoga
Since I don’t have class on Fridays, it usually turns into a day of ultimate procrastination so I made sure my exercise challenge wouldn’t change my preferred pace. To avoid doing my homework like every other Friday, I attended two classes today. I started the day off with Tabata. I really should have Googled what Tabata was before taking the class. A 30 minute class with a 2:1 workout to recovery interval, it was an intense class full of BOSU balls and of course, complaints. I survived with minimal injury (only dropping the ball on my foot once). I’d call this one a success.
To end the week off right, I took my very first yoga class. I’ve heard so many stories of how calming and centering yoga is for your body. After a week full of fast paced, loud music workouts, I was not prepared for how slow the class went. I wish I could find all the benefits yoga has to offer but I don’t think I’ll be attending another yoga class for a while.
There you have it! I survived a week of long journey in the gym at Temple University. Unfortunately, I haven’t caught the fitness bug yet like I thought I would. By the end of each day, I felt great but exhausted.
This journey, although only a week long, taught me amazing things about my body. I learned I am so much stronger than I give myself credit for. My body can take so much more than imagined, making me understand that being tired isn’t an excuse. I can’t keep selling myself short and feeling bad for myself. I’m capable of so much more, I just need to put my mind to it.
By Jamie Walsh
Growing up, it's uncommon for a little girl for to skip the princess phase. Walking around the house in crowns and poofy dresses, pretending I ruled the vast and mountainous land that was my living room. The idea of a princess, particularly in Disney movies, is a girl who is beautiful but helpless and weak. That is until Moana.
Thursday night, instead of running out of house late at night and regretting the decision Friday morning as we try to get up in time for class, my twenty year-old roommates and I snuggled up on the couch and turned on the newest Disney princess film Moana.
We found inspiration in the little island girl that went out to save the world.
“She’s trying to find herself, she’s not trying to find a man. I think that’s why people were thriving over it,” said my friend Katie. “It’s not like any other Disney film where the princess is in need of a man to fix her problems.”
“I’m trying to do both. I’m trying to multitask,” joked Liz.
I think it’s important to note that in order to be an independent woman, it’s not necessary to reject a relationship. However, Moana represents the woman who does not rely on a man to fix her problems.
In most princess films, the message is based solely on the fact that women are in need of a man to protect and provide all essentials of life. Moana turned the basic timid princess into an empowered and powerful woman.
Everyone, even her father, attempted to tear her down but nothing stopped Moana. The only person who pushed her to her full potential was her grandmother. Women empowering women is a critical storyline that we need to see represented more to combat the negative stereotypes of women in competition, either for love or power.
With her grandmother’s support, Moana’s determination and courage soared. After facing defeat and faltering, her grandmother reminded her of her heritage, her strength, and her innate power. The culminating line “I am Moana!” as a personal rallying cry is a rare of example of a woman’s pure existence as being the source of her power.
Together, we also highly noted how Moana was portrayed as an average sized woman. It was refreshing to see a woman confidently stand in her body and did not have a waist like Tinkerbelle. It’s harmful for young girls to see only little waists and thin legs and unrealistic expectations of what a woman’s body should look like.
I never really enjoyed animated movies and ignored all the hype surrounding Frozen and decided to do the same for Moana. Until now, I had not seen the movie and didn’t imagine it could have this much effect on society as a whole. If Disney continues to put out movies such as Moana, society has a chance to change its perspective as a whole. If we teach children from the beginning that men and women are and should be treated equal, slowly society can change its ways, one mind at a time.
By Jamie Walsh
1777 - All states passed a law that took away women’s rights to vote
1839 – First state grants a woman the right to maintain property with her husband’s permission
1920 – Women are granted the right to vote
1973 – Roe vs. Wade, women hold the right to terminate an early pregnancy
2012 - Obamacare/Affordable Care Act mandates that insurance cover preventative care and birth control
2016 - Trump wins, and people start saying they need to get their IUDs now while they still can
2017 – Oops, may be too late.
Keeping his promise to his right-wing, heavily conservative Republican party, Donald Trump has decided his presidential power deserves ruling power in the uteruses of America.
Under the Affordable Care Act created by Barack Obama, employers were required to provide insurance that would cover women’s birth control with little to no cost. President Donald Trump has now undermined that ruling, taking away the right to affordable contraception for hundreds of thousands of women. Employers now have the right to deny the coverage of birth control due to deeply held religious and moral beliefs. The administration is arguing that forcing employers to provide birth control to women goes against their freedom to practice religion.
Speaker Paul Ryan stated, “This is a landmark day for religious liberty. Under the Obama administration, this right was seriously eroded.”
Let’s talk about liberty. Like the freedom to live your best life and not worry about getting pregnant. For many women, that is liberty.
With his attempt to defund Planned Parenthood and make second trimester abortions illegal, Mr. Trump seems to feel rather comfortable making decisions that do not affect him in any way, shape, or form.
I currently receive my birth control through Temple University’s Health Services for $7. My roommate receives hers through her personal doctor with insurance and has no copay. Should Donald Trump succeed in all his plans to take away some of the most important reproductive rights of women, neither of us would be able to afford our birth control.
We are both just 20 years old, full of dreams of
traveling and continuing our education. Our
rights to affordable birth control allow us to stay in
school without fear of unexpected pregnancy.
One day I would love to be a mother, but that day
is not today. I want to get my degree and move around the country pursuing a career in journalism. I want
to explore the world and learn more about myself
on the way. My birth control helps me remain on
track with my plans, regulates my period, and
relives serious period pain. Without, I open myself
up to unexpected pregnancy, and return to irregular periods that brought along excruciating pain.
I was first placed on birth control at the age of 13 after recurring ovarian cysts. I later switched birth control to prevent menstrual migraines at the age of 15. The administration lists the health risks of freely providing birth control and one of those is promoting risky behavior among teens and young adults. Everyone is entitled to their own sex life, no matter how they choose to pursue it. That being said, men do however have less to worry about. They do not have to worry about obtaining contraception other than condoms. If men don’t have to worry, why do we have to?
I was placed on birth control by my doctor long before I was sexually active. Scrolling through Twitter, it became clear that those fighting for insurance not to cover birth control believe strongly that the only use of birth control is to prevent pregnancy. It may be one (very effective) use for birth control, but there are many more. I saw many middle aged men stating that it was against their religion and felt it unfair to have to pay for someone else’s promiscuity. This demonstrates the absurdity of the situation being led by men uneducated on women’s reproductive health and deliberately obtuse about the realities of being a sexually active woman.
It is my right to have dreams AND have reduced-pain periods AND have sex and not get pregnant. My body, my choice. I will not allow for Donald Trump to decide my health nor my future. Men argue the health benefits of Viagra, stating why it should be covered by insurance, and they are winning. Some women cannot live a healthy life without birth control so why is our argument being ignored? No one has the right to tell a woman what she can or cannot do with her body.
We marched through streets declaring our bodies as ours, and collectively saying we do not stand for the culture we live in because it does not stand for us.
What is Rape Culture?
Rape culture is a culture that normalizes sexual harassment and violence, asks the victim if she was drinking and what she was wearing, sympathizes with perpetrators for losing their job/scholarship/status, and teaches women and girls to not get raped instead of teaching people to not rape and talking seriously about consent. Rape culture is insidious, sometimes subtle enough to be just a feeling that you shouldn’t talk about something because it will make someone else uncomfortable and upset the norm. Culture is human-made, and we can change this one. First we need to see it and talk about it.
On Saturday September 30, a small group of Own Your Awesomeness girls and women joined a few hundred people of different races, genders, and sexualities at Paine Plaza at the March to End Rape Culture. We observed creative and powerful signs, listened to speakers and poets, and then marched through Center City. It was a remarkable event to be a part of, made all the more powerful by sharing in the experience with our OYA cohort. Each of the four OYA girls who participated wrote a short reflection on their experience of the march.
Being an introvert, I originally had no clue what my role would be during the march. I figured that if I brought my camera, I could hide behind it and just film my surroundings. However, I didn’t expect to feel such an intense feelings of strength radiating off of the women around me. Although I am not a rape victim, I have been victimized by rape culture. Fueled by the people around me, I felt urged to finally speak up and join the chanting. It felt so empowering to be a part of something so much bigger than myself.
It’s hard to explain rape culture because it’s so woven into our society. It’s hard to point out specific examples of it and say “Here is the problem and then here is the solution.” It’s just a matter of experiencing it and at the March Against Rape Culture no one had to give an exact definition because we all had felt rape culture’s effects on to our lives. There was a communal understanding at this march that we were all there for the same reason and were creating an environment of love and acceptance. At this march we came together in intersectional sisterhood, to stand up against a culture that is rooted against women and against consent.
The day started off with multiple speakers and spoken word poetry, with dance parties, and sign making, and owning our space. It also started off with three people standing in the name of hate, with posters saying “Homos go to hell” and “Feminists are whores”. A man stood and screamed into his megaphone “you kill babies”. The amazing thing however was that these words were not a deterrent for anyone, they showed the importance of being there and marching with love and not hate because at the end of it all love will always trump hate. There will always be an abundance of love and it will drive out the hate. We marched through streets declaring our bodies as ours, and collectively saying we do not stand for the culture we live in because it does not stand for us.
The last day of September brought a field of new experiences, questions and answer for me to think about and learn from.. The March to End Rape Culture was an entire new environment and experience that the seventeen year old me has been craving and fearing for years. Participating in the march I was able to listen and observe the people around me, criticize my own logic and behavior as well as the behavior and logic of others, become vulnerable, question so many things and most importantly be in a safe place where I could voice my issues and have so many other people listen and stand with me.
The March to End Rape Culture was the first protest I participated in. I met up with my Camp instructor Kate Zipin and five amazing women that I went to camp with during the summer. We made the coolest signs we could think of, and all stuck together throughout the March. Before the actual marching happened, we all gathered around Dilworth Plaza. There were so many people there, all so different, so unique and so passionate I started to get anxious. There wasn't one person in that crowd who looked the same but we all wanted the same thing: equality. There were many motivational speakers, who spoke powerfully about their experiences with rape, being catcalled, abused and shamed. There was poetry, music, laughing and cheering. The march was an amazing experience that created a positive environment for me to enjoy and feel comfortable in.
Although the march had a lot of positive and joyful moments it also had a some negative moments. There was a group of protesters protesting our… protest. A women held up a sign that read “Women Belong In The Kitchen” as ironic as that might sound it's true. Observing that confused me. I questioned how so many people choose to deny other people their basic rights. I did not understand what possessed the men who held up signs that read “God Hates Homosexuals” and “You Promote Rape.” Their ignorance was just out of my limit. I realized that you cannot educate and help those who don't wanna be helped, and that's the sad reality of the march. It made me realize that their are gonna be people that come my way and don’t agree with me or don't want me to have BASIC HUMAN RIGHTS but as long as I am fighting for them, like I did the last Saturday of September, there is always a fighting chance for change. The beauty of that experience was watching some of the protestors make a wall between the ignorance and the ones participating in the march.
Overall, The March to End Rape Culture was an amazing experience for me. I was so happy to be able to march for an important situation and plan to go to as many in the future as I can.
I think it was great! I'm upset that I up late so I missed so much of the great stuff that happened as people prepared for the march. Although, I showed up about 15 minutes into the marching itself and it was wonderful.
I love the topic the most, the fact that so many showed in support of ending rape culture. It's a horrible thing that happens in our society and it's even worse that so many people aren't educated on it but all these people showed up because they were against it. And we got massive amounts of support on the streets, ranging from random people to Planned Parenthood. One kid saw and wanted to join just to join and it was so adorable.
But another thing that caught my eye was how unique the whole march was. From signs to the people marching beside me, all different shapes, sizes, genders, sexualities, all together. All these different people came together for one cause which I believe was beautiful. The signs said all different kinds of stuff, like "No to catcalling, Yes to cats" (absolutely adorableeee). All these unique people and signs, marching for one cause and in sync throughout it all made it more of a wonderful thing to witness.
The march had such high spirits and was, as I believe, very successful in spreading awareness since so many stopped to watch. I'd love to go back if I could and I'd definitely love to go to another march soon. Especially with my OYA group, they're the best 'march team' a girl could have :).
Only two years have passed and I can’t help but notice how much I have grown since high school. In the moment, every little thing feels like it has the capacity to end the world. Every rumor, every fight, every broken heart has the power to leave you questioning yourself for what feels like an entirety.
I look back and laugh at the boy I spent months in despair over. I laugh at the fact I felt the need to wear makeup every single day and straighten my already straight hair. I laugh at the moments I would leave class just to tell my friends the latest gossip because for some reason, Mary’s spray tan was way more important than geometry.
That’s not to say high school was a walk in the park. The emotions are real and the experiences are irreplaceable. There will be some friends who will stand by your side for the rest of your life and some that won’t make it past graduation day and that is okay. The moment I left high school behind, it didn’t matter anymore what Katie wore last Wednesday or what Veronica said in the locker room after gym class. I wish I knew that earlier, and I’d be free from the overwhelming pressures that followed me through high school.
I loved sports. I played soccer for thirteen years, I was a cheerleader, and I even, for some reason, ran track even though I hate to run. I would do anything to lace up my cleats and take the field again or grab my pompoms and spirit finger my way onto the basketball court one last time. The feeling of belonging to team was so rewarding yet so difficult to mimic after graduation.
I didn’t believe anyone when they told me to enjoy it while it lasted. During high school, it felt like it would never end but I wish I took the time to embrace each moment instead of banking on having another. Now already two years through college, I try my best to understand that this isn’t forever either, as much as I want it to be.
I wish I knew it was okay to stay home on a Friday night. I don’t look back and think about that one party I didn’t go to that no one remembers anyways. I wish I knew that sneaking out and getting in a car with someone who was drinking didn’t make me cool, it made me stupid.
I felt the need to fit in. I had a serious fear of missing out. Although I wish I focused more on enjoying each and every moment, it would have been okay to listen to mom once in a while and just stay home. Avoiding the drinking scene and ignoring the pressures wouldn’t have helped me fit in, but it certainly would’ve made me feel smarter. In my life, two men most deserving of a long and happy life have lost their lives to the feeling of invincibility and the ignorance of drinking and driving. The lesson to learn was very clear the first time, and even more painful the second.
The paralyzing fear of not fitting in was something I was never able to overcome until I graduated. I still feel that sometimes, but it doesn’t necessarily drag me down like it used to. Growing out of the feeling that in order to be loved, I need to be accepted by people who really never mattered is an incredibly powerful feeling. I’ve learned not to care as much.
I wish I knew that no one compared me to anyone except for me. I was beautiful long before any lusty teenage boy told me so and I was still beautiful when that same lusty teenage boy told me I was not. After long nights crying in my tiny twin bed and days where I didn’t want to get out of it because I felt as though I wasn’t worthy, I was able to learn that no one deserved to hold that type of power over me. I had to stop relying so heavily on the opinion of others while recognizing that not everyone is going to like me and there’s nothing wrong with that.
I felt the need to wear makeup every day not for the compliments from those lusty teenage boys but instead for the judgmental girls who walked the halls with me. They all wore makeup everyday so I guess I had to, too. The internal pressure lessened my senior year when I realized I wouldn’t have to see over half these people again so I really shouldn’t care. Finding the strength not to care is tough, but one of the most powerful tools I’ve ever learned.
Above all, I’m still learning and growing. Looking back at the little things I stressed over, I realize those were the moments that helped me gain the strength not to care about the opinions of others and focus my concerns on making myself proud. I know it’s okay to stay home once in a while and binge watch The Office when I’m homesick and that no one cares if I don’t wear makeup to class. I let go of the constant pressure to be something and I am not attempting to live up to other people’s expectations for myself. It’s freeing knowing the only person I need to impress is myself. It’s amazing how much can change in such a short amount of time and I plan to embrace each moment of my crazy college career and all that will come after.
I sit here writing in my tiny, overpriced college apartment, overly excited and terrified of what the future will be, who I will become, and where my career will take me. These fears are confirmed through constant set backs and daily reminders from strangers that I don’t have what it takes to make it in the industry. Concurrently, my passion to write and the excitement I feel when I make myself proud silence the hate from others and doubts that find their way to circle through my mind.
I grew up in a conservative neighborhood with very few strong, female leaders to base myself off of outside my family. A small town comes with an even smaller higher school, a graduating class of just sixty people. Knowing the middle name of every person you graduated with seems great in theory, but it has its downfalls. When you graduate high school with the same exact people you met the first day of kindergarten, it’s incredibly difficult to explore yourself and opportunities without being judged. It’s challenging to find the people who want to see you stretch and succeed and not the ones just looking for something to talk about.
Coming from the small town of Scranton, life can be boring and slightly confusing with little to no exposure to the world outside of the Electric City. It may be fun sharing the same roots as Michael Scott and Dwight Schrute, but it was time for me to leave Dunder Mifflin behind and find something more for myself in the City of Brotherly Love which brings me to this chapter of my life.
Moving to Philadelphia to further my education was the best decision I could have made. It allowed me to chose people to surround me who would push me towards my dreams and celebrate my victories. I quickly realized the people I chose to be around made an incredible impact on the person I want to become because I have been able exceed my own expectations. I never imagined the possibilities I would create for myself, including the opportunity to intern in New York City.
I dream of becoming a writer in any form, whether that be through a journalistic approach or even becoming a published author. I am happiest when I allow myself to ignore the sometimes overwhelming fear of disapproval and just let the words flow freely. This blog is a stepping point on my journey and I hope to encourage girls of all ages to follow whatever far-reaching dreams they may have by doing just that for myself.
As I look back at all the days I spent sitting in my high school desk questioning who I was meant to be, I pray that no other girl has the same fears and self doubts I had at such a young age. I wish I understood that I could have done anything that I put my mind to and that no one had the power to tell me otherwise.
I feared I would never have any clue what I wanted to do with my life when the time came. Even though I still don’t truly know how the rest of my life will unfold, I know the direction I want to take it in. I feared I wouldn’t find friends in college who didn’t think I was weird or annoying and accepted me for who I was. I’ve managed to find a group of friends who don’t give a damn who I am or who I was. I’ve met the girls who will stand as my bridesmaids. I feared I was never meant to go to college, that I didn’t have what it takes. As I write this, I am starting my junior year and wishing it would never end.
I’ve vowed to myself that I will become whatever I dream to be and pray that someday, every girl sitting at her desk never doubts who she is. To all the girls sitting in their desks right now wondering who they will turn out to be, continue to wonder but don’t ever fear. You will find who you are meant to be with time and without even truly realizing it and that is the moment you are working towards.
Jamie Walsh is a junior at Temple University and a lover of toaster strudel, beluga whales, and all things Joe Biden. She has a passion to write and explore the all possibilities Philadelphia has to offer as a student, a woman, and a dreamer.