Change for the Better

Joseph Benne
Life can be full of people who bring hardship and pain, but sometimes you might get lucky and find people who care. When growing up, I didn't have a normal life. I was five when I realized that both of my parents did drugs, lied, and stole. I had little idea what those things were when I was that little. I knew, with the innocence of being a five year old, that the police were around a lot and that they always took my parents away from me. The following five years or so were some of the craziest times in my life. Growing up, my biological dad who I now call Tim had joint custody of me, but I mostly stayed with my mom who I now call Michelle. Things that I witnessed while living with both of them are those a child should never see - or see happen to his or her parents. I’ve seen drug deals; I’ve been in car chases; I saw Michelle beat bloody. I was traumatized by my biological parents for twelve years and have had problems persist into adulthood as a result.

Michelle and I moved around a lot - to different friends’ houses and to different shelters. Being around so many different people, I was never able to develop a stable foundation. The summer before third grade, Michelle and I moved into my grandparents’ house; all the while, I still got to be with Tim every other weekend. That year in third grade was the year everything started to change. I was coming home one day and felt that something wasn't right at the house. Nobody was there, which was very odd because there were normally four cars when everyone was home. I started walking toward the front of my house when our neighbor Joe came over and took me into his house. He asked me to sit down. I was only nine at the time and had no idea what was happening. He told me that my grandma had a problem and fell at work. She had to go to the hospital for emergency surgery - to remove a large tumor in her brain. I didn’t exactly know what that meant; I just knew that surgery was a big deal. Little did I know that while all of this was going on, Michelle and grandpa were fighting at the hospital. This wasn’t anything new. Anytime I look back, I remember that they always fought.

When my grandmother was about to leave the hospital, my Aunt Kim on my mother’s side came to the house a few days before to prepare. She told me she was moving in to take care of grandma, and that she was going to be watching me for a few days. Up to this point in my life, I wasn’t around her very much, but I had good memories of her. Ultimately, she was always there for me and super fun to be around. My grandma came home from the hospital after a few days to see that my Aunt had moved my room, moved Michelle’s room, and set up my grandma in a different, new room too to make it easier for daily movement for everyone. Everyone was home the day that my Aunt came and told me my mom was on the phone. She handed me the phone and I heard the words from my mom that we were moving again. This time to Mexico, Missouri, to get far away from my grandparents because she never wanted to see them again. I screamed and cried saying, "No, I don’t want to!" She told me to get my things together and to be ready when she came to pick me up. She hung up the phone at that point. My Aunt heard the whole conversation but asked me what was wrong.

That was the moment when I finally broke. I couldn’t take it anymore, all the craziness, the moving, the switching schools, all of it. I begged my aunt, "Please don’t let me go. Please, Aunt Kim, I don’t wanna go again." I was tired of it all. At that point, I didn’t know what I could do, but I did know a little bit about calling Child Services. The only reason I have heard of it was that through different instances, I had heard other people yell threateningly at Michelle that they would call Child Services on her. I quietly asked Aunt Kim to call Child Services. She was shocked that I even knew what that was. She said she couldn’t, so I told her about all the craziness. I told her about the time I was in a car chase, how I saw Michelle buy drugs from some dude in a mask, and how I came home one day and she yelled at me to go to bed but it was only 3:00. After that, she was completely shocked, but did the right thing and called. That phone call is the best thing that could have ever happened to me.

Child services told her that they would be on the way and that if Michelle showed up to call the police. They said Michelle wouldn’t be allowed to just show up and take me without them talking to her first. Michelle did show up - and before Child Services did - and my aunt did call the police. Michelle did what she had always done and just yelled and screamed that she would come back to get me later. Child Services asked me many questions about my life and left. They asked my Aunt Kim and her husband, my Uncle Jeff, if they would take me in. They agreed that they would.

That right there was the start of the best thing that ever happened to me. I never had to go into a stranger’s home to be a foster kid like I had heard others did. My aunt and uncle became my instant foster parents. My biological father at this point, was already deemed unfit to take care of me; and the State of Missouri Child Services Division, was in charge of me now. The way that worked was that the state told Tim and Michelle that I would be able to go back into their care as long as they met the requirements set by the state to take care of me: have a place to live, maintain a stable environment, obtain a stable source of income, and pass a drug test. As soon as those terms were set forth, Tim, my biological father, signed over all parental rights and he said, "I’ll see him when he turns eighteen." Michelle, on the other hand, dragged it out for two years. She constantly came up with excuses about why she couldn’t meet the requirements set forth, all the while calling my Aunt, screaming vulgar things and calling her names. While this two-year battle went on, she was taking care of my grandma who was battling brain cancer, eventually losing to it after about a year and a half. Michelle made my life, even my new life, hell.

Eventually, because of these antics, Michelle lost custody of me. The new question was whether or not my Aunt Kim and Uncle Jeff would become my legal guardians. The stipulations were until I would turn eighteen or until they adopted me which would be permanent. They came to me and asked, and I said, "I want to be adopted." I never wanted to go back because Michelle hurt me. From that point on, I called Aunt Kim, Mom, and my Uncle Jeff, Dad. On May 20th, 2014, the State of Missouri declared it official, that my Mom is Kimberly Ann Benne, and my Father is Jeffery Michael Benne. My new mom and dad asked me if I’d like to pick my middle name, and I chose Mario. My name became Joseph Mario Benne.

I have always held resentment toward my biological parents because they hurt me in so many ways. Not for just putting me through all the crazy situations but for also not caring to stay my parents, not caring about raising me right, and not giving me the life a child deserves. Instead, I was taught to lie, to cheat, and to only care about myself; and I still struggle with those problems to this day. Luckily, I have an awesome Mom who has taught me how to know who I am, and I have a Dad who taught me to be strong and to care for others. I am sorry to say that my adoptive Dad, Jeff, passed away on October 3rd, 2019, from cancer; but in my heart, he will always be my Fad. As for my biological parents, Tim passed away a few months ago, and I refuse to ever have Michelle in my life. I’m forever grateful to my new Mom and Dad because they made me the man that I am today.

How The Coronavirus Impacted My Life

Jasmine Braddix

I never would have expected a global pandemic to impact my personal growth in a positive way. Living in a forced, quarantine environment allowed a rapid change in my self-improvement. The coronavirus impacted my physical ability to visit friends and family, my mental and physical health, and the normalcy of life.

When quarantine began, we all thought nothing of it. Most people thought it was something that would blow over quickly. However, a week or two after school let out, my parents and I started to freak out because regulations would not allow me or any of my siblings to go anywhere, unless it was to the store…even then we had to wear a mask and sanitize thoroughly after each trip. I could not see anyone outside of my home unless we were outside and social distancing. Those months were some of the hardest months of my life. Not being able to see my friends or family left me alone most of the time. I had to improvise and find other ways to "visit" with people. My friends and I often used Facetime as our form of communication. As far as family, we also used Facetime, and sometimes relatives came to visit (with social distancing circumstances). In spite of the fact that I could use these platforms to communicate with loved ones, it was never the same. My boyfriend's house had poor internet connection, which made Facetiming a doozy. I am a very extroverted person, so not having access to such a crucial part of my life became the main reason why I struggled mentally and physically throughout quarantine.

I often found myself doing puzzles, helping my dad build things, and waking up early to do schoolwork. As Covid cases grew worse within the world, my behavior gradually worsened also. I was constantly sad, crying, and scared. It felt like the end of the world. So many restrictions made me feel almost claustrophobic. The panic of society caused me to panic too. Even when I was not visibly panicking, in my head, I was. I had a sore throat one morning, and all of a sudden I was freaking out because I thought I had the Coronavirus. Even germs scared me. Looking back, I almost sound insane. However, panicking was the new normal. I had never felt the way I did during that time. I felt alone and terrified. Meanwhile, my friends were allowed to hang out with each other and do whatever they wanted, but I stayed home. Even though that period of time was so hard, I am almost grateful for it. The time I was at home gave me many good opportunities. Being alone left me to realize things about myself that I had never known before. I gained confidence in myself, and I learned how selfish I can actually be. I knew I wanted to change that, so I pushed myself to do better.

For me, quarantine started at the end of March. So when May rolled around, I finally convinced my parents to let me see my boyfriend. When I saw him for the first time, I swear, I was a nervous wreck. Not being social for so long almost made me forget how to communicate with people, other than my immediate family. Of course, the entire time I was with him, I was thinking in the back of my head, "Am I going to get the virus???" Over and over, I thought that to myself. Slowly, hanging out with him every week became the new normal. My parents started to loosen up, so everyone in the house started hanging out with their friends. My boyfriend and I have never really connected with each other like we do now. I think that played a role in my growth also because we both matured together and leaned on one another for support. I turned sixteen over the summer, and I think that was really the turning point of my growth as a young adult. I earned my driving license, the most important responsibility in my life to date. The road is one of the most dangerous places, and it was my job to keep myself and others safe while driving.

In conclusion, we have all had to adjust to this completely abnormal life. The "norm" these days is social distancing and practicing safe measures around others. Although Coronavirus is a nuisance and has been tragic for the country, it gave me a new perspective on my life. It gave me the opportunity to grow up.

A Start to a New Adventure

Carolyn Ramsey

"Outstanding JAG Essay" awarded by Governor Mike Parson

Senior year will come to an end in May, 2021, and my first two years of college at Jefferson College will begin. Jeff Co is located in Hillsboro, Missouri. After I obtain my Associates Degree, I will attend UMSL, the University of Missouri at St. Louis, to secure my Bachelors degree in Animal Science. If it sounds like it stops there, it most certainly does not. Going to veterinary school for another four years will be one long journey but definitely an experience as well.

When I was younger, I wanted to be an OBGYN though animals have always given me the best feeling in my heart. I'm not sure now why I thought that's what I wanted to do for the rest of my life; however, I'm lucky to have had a change of heart. Nowadays, I can't see myself going to college for anything except working with animals. I've always taken care of pets along with my close family members. I didn't have the best childhood, so my animal friends were always there for me; they never let me down. I didn't have a very good middle-school experience either. I was led down a wrong path, but I managed to find my way back. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my amazing support system in my life that I was blessed to have. Alternately, I have had to cut people out of my life as well which has proven for the best.

As a result, I want to repay all of my animal friends and open up an adoption pet clinic someday. I haven't planned all of the details yet, although, I have some ideas. I'm going to make it affordable. It’s going to be based on income. I want my community to be able to bring a dog in for medical care or a check up with the cost determined by income. Prices on shots, medicines, or surgeries can cost thousands of dollars. People who don't have the means could also drop a dog off at my shelter where it would feel safe and loved. I'm even going to have a little bowl of free doggy treats at the front desk! Once a month I might have a day where people can bring in a certain animal for a certain kind of free shot. All I want to do is make the vet, or at least mine, a little more affordable for people who don't have that much money and make it easier to save an animal's life.

After high school, my cousin actually had a really good vet tech job and offered to recommend me for a position for some experience now. The only problem is that the working hours and my high school hours don't match well. I'm hoping that I might be able to work there full time the summer after after high school and before college begins so as to have that on my resume.

As of right now, I'm working at Walmart in High Ridge. I've noticed how many people I check out are on EBT (electronic benefit transfer), meaning they receive financial assistance from the government. If I opened up a clinic near this area, then I could serve best based on my intentions. I know how badly people can struggle. My family isn’t the wealthiest, but we have definitely managed to get by with what we have.

I also plan to volunteer anywhere I can once I graduate. I'm excited to begin this new chapter of my life.

Monopoly: A Road to Ambition

Joshua Zielman

My conjoined hands violently shake. They continue quaking until I release them from each other's grasp and dice spill out. At the side of the coffee table, I excitedly scream, "Yes! Double sixes!" An eight-year-old me has prepared to reap the rewards of unbridled capitalism in two or more hours. My hand passes over the Monopoly logo as I reach for the metallic dog. Grasping it, I move twelve spaces past places such as Go to Jail, North Carolina Avenue, Community Chest, and Short Line Railroad. I begin to realize where my piece is headed squeal with enjoyment. The dog makes its final rest at Boardwalk which I quickly purchase in hopes of destroying my opponents. I am Alexander the Great, and the board, the Known World. I conquer all of those in my way, add more and more properties, sell, and cause opponents to go bankrupt. Then the unexpected happens: I meet an untimely demise as I find myself bankrupt to my greatest adversary.

Monopoly's popular demands started at a high and only increased from there since it landed on department stare shelves in 1935. It became a game for the victor, for the clever, and for the lucky. From back deals to the gracious luck of the dice to jail, Monopoly joins the realm of games that in their essence test people for the real world.

As I play, I immediately begin to question everything: What benefits do I receive from this property? Is the banker laundering money? How can a game based on math and logic allow players to have fun? I also form strategies with the help of some luck for total domination. Buy, Buy, Buy or else bankruptcy becomes my future, and I cannot wait to take over on side of the board with another trade become my constant thoughts. Eventually becoming more and more successful, I begin to believe that I will win. It is only a matter of time. Playing Monopoly over the years has helped bring out my inner, ambitious spirit. This ambition along with curiosity form a symbiotic relationship: one fuels and the other drives.

Throughout the entirety of gameplay, Monopoly brings me closer to my friends, my family, and myself. Conversations arise and thoughts commence to form in my head as I wait for my turn. In that time, I calculate the probability of a certain roll, hoping for a double. When the game continues for some time and becomes more difficult, thoughts of economics and philosophy graze my consciousness: Is this really how the corporate world works? Full of evil and the vanquishing of opponents? I brush off these thoughts as I continue playing, and I cannot help but notice the people around me. Someone forms rosy and inflamed cheeks as they rage-quit and bump the table, transferring energy to the board as the pieces fly everywhere. Another begins to smile like a hyena, knowing the ascent to victory in nigh.

Several times throughout gameplay, discussions emerge; and the entrepreneurs of the 2nd Industrial Revolution enter these talks. People such as John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie dominate conversation. They both worked hard, survived several challenges, and were determined to create successful corporations. I tend to think At what cost? Carnegie, overflowing with guilt from the several lives he negatively affected, donated several libraries, museums, and universities to his society. Rockefeller, arguably the greatest entrepreneur in American History, increasingly gained more power; and as result, he became less understood and less empathetic. Both men shared an admirable desire to come out at the top of their field; but where one tried to make his guilt vanish, the other became increasingly less reflective of his roots and became feared by the public. My family and I conclude that these men shared a respectful ambition, but their ethics and achievements differed greatly.

In my life, I adopt an ambitious spirit as I do in Monopoly; thinking of what I want to do with my life, how far I want to progress, and what classes might comprise my high-school career. From an early age, I discovered an intrigue in science, and as I grow older, I explore the scientific world more to find a more specific interest. When I conquer the realms of biology, chemistry, and anatomy, my eyes set on the prize. Just as Alexander the Great built Alexandria after his conquests, marking his greatest achievement, I set myself to join the scientific community of the Animal Kingdom to build my Alexandria. My ambitious drive set in motion, I station myself to take several classes including Calculus and several Biology-related topics to learn the ways of the scientific method and laboratory work.

I am curious and search the known world in pursuit of my life goals and to conquer the obstacles in my path. Playing board games around the coffee table on the weekends keeps my brain in motion; and Monopoly, specifically, continues to fuel the foundations that allow me to seek out the life I want and lay out a plan to obtain it. Constant thoughts in my head of where my life moves toward and the aspirations I want to pursue leave drive the determination to accomplish my goals. I suppose people might say that I am stubborn because of my ambition, in life or even on the playing board; but that stubbornness has led me to where I am today. I will never stop until my empire has formed, and I have built my Alexandria.

Part of Your World

Anacristina Sanchez

It’s hard being part of two different worlds. Many will know the struggle of chasing the American dream, but do they know what it takes to also stay in your own world. I have experienced this struggle. It wasn't easy, but I am happy with the way things turned out.

The routine that my family and I have when we go out to parties has always been the same. My mother and I rush to an open vanity seat to get our makeup done while my father and brother were finished getting ready hours before. They now sit and wait for my mom and I to finish. We speed up the process of looking our best as quickly as we can but still aiming to look presentable. After we finish, we all climb into the car. I remember getting in and feeling the terrible sound of the bass and the instant pounding sensation in my head. I couldn’t stand listening to my dad's music, pounding against my feet and back. It was something that with a snap of my fingers I wished I could have turned off. With this spiraling fiasco, I felt the rest of the night going down hill. Every time I got in that car and heard those loud and obnoxious noises, I felt like jumping out. Car rides became the one thing I dreaded the most.

Months and years passed when I felt this sort of hatred towards having to listen to the music and be anywhere near something that so much connected with my culture. That's what happened being stuck inside the American bubble, pushing away my own culture and not wanting to be anywhere near it. During those years of growing up in American culture, I wanted to be them, look like them, have what they had, and be what they were in life. I was embarrassed of the food I ate, and if others saw the lunch that I brought to school, I felt ashamed.

Eventually, I started to see truly what I was and who I was. I was part of rich culture. I shouldn’t be ashamed of where I am from. The anger and resentment I had inside was a feeling that I needed to throw out and stop feeling. What even was the reason to begin with I asked myself. Does having to feel this way really have to stay with me all my life? Realizing what I could truly be a part of? I could still live that other part of my life; there was no denying that I was already part of it. Looking at things from a different perspective changed me and everything I saw.

We as a society should never be ashamed of where we come from. Our backgrounds bring us up and make us who we are. It's okay to want to be a part of American culture, but the culture that all of us Hispanics come from is rich and powerful and is not to be ignored.

A Child's Perspective

Jaden Smith

It is said that a parent poses the greatest influence upon a child's life. For me, this is a true statement. though I used to disagree. Although my situation may throw some off guard, I was influenced by a parent who was not present. And when I was younger, I was filled with hatred because of this. As I have matured, I have realized that not having a father shaped me into a better person. This is why I believe holding in hate only slows you down in life.

Growing up, I had my mom and 3 brothers at my side constantly. I never knew anything about my father or his side of the family which did not bother me until I met them for the first time. The tension in the courtroom was strong. Nobody spoke until spoken to, that was, until the judge asked me to point to my dad. I remember being dismayed by her words. No one had ever called him my dad. After thinking for a few minutes, my thoughts soon turned to anger. Everyone was stunned in the courtroom when I shouted, “I don't have a dad!” That night I can remember my mom sitting me down to explain to me why I didn't know my father. Her words, “you will be stronger without him,” stuck with me from that point on.

Although I seemed to have calmed down after the court day, my blood was still boiling. Anything could set me off. Little did I know that "thing" would be a small girl at the local park. A potential new friend sat on one side of an open swing set and invited me over. As we were getting to know each other, talking about anything that first comes to mind, the girl said, “I have the best dad in the whole world. I bet he’s better than yours.” My heart started racing. I could feel a bad situation starting, but I couldn't calm myself down.

That was my breaking point.

No one had the power to stop the screeching and scornful words I said to the poor girl. Not until after this day did I realize just how much anger I was holding in. I saw a side of myself I never wanted to show again. This is when I decided to start letting go of my problems rather than holding them in. Some things in life you may never have the power to control. When thinking about these things, you can either stay angry or come to the realization that you have to do what is best for you. For me, doing my best was dropping the anger my father instilled in me. Eventually I could turn that anger into amazing bonds with my other family members.

This situation has taught me to be more passionate. I believe that if I had not gone through my father leaving me, I would not be as hard of a worker as I am now. I aim every day to get to the top because I never want to feel as low as I did when I was younger. I also want to succeed more and more every day because thinking about how we had to struggle growing up after my dad left my family makes me want to be as independent as possible. In school and at work, I am always striving for that power to take me to the next level.

So, when someone says that a parent is a child's greatest impact in life, I don't disagree with them anymore. Instead, I think of the difficult, but productive, learning experience I went through. I also think about how much of a stronger and harder working person this experience has shaped me into. If anyone should ever ask me for advice, I would tell them it's not always that you have to forget. It's that you have to let go, but for your own good.

The Beetle

Trent Matheis

There was a time when my Grandfather was questioned for bringing home an old Volkswagen Beetle. Foreign vehicles were never the car of choice in my family. No one knew what it would eventually evolve into.

Being influenced by living in a full-time race car shop, I decided to adopt this Beetle which by this time had been sitting in my Grandma's garage for over 20 years; it happened to be my 15th Birthday. I began deliberating exactly what I wanted from this hideous chunk of German engineering. The upgrade long needed from my current car was going to be the bug, or Thug Bug as it came to be called. Once I had my mind set on what I would turn the car into, I began cutting. Everything from the original chassis to the whole back of the car was cut off and scraped so the redesign process could begin.

Rebuilding the car from the ground up with all new components and a 100% custom chassis consumed most of the one-year-and-nine-month build time. The shell of the Beetle was mocked up onto a chassis table within a week of bringing it home. I was finally able to see the task in front of me in full view, knowing that every bar bent, welded, and fitted would be done by me alone with my dad there for the design and fabrication support. Eventually, the 4130 Chromoly, TIG-welded frame was completed, and attention from the internet began pouring in. People loved the idea that I was taking on such a project at 15 years old; and knowing my dad, they knew it wouldn't be anything less than perfect. The unimaginable amount of work put into that car was finally paying off.

After the chassis was complete, tin work and mounting of the body began. Soon, my favorite part would come along, the fabrication of the suspension. I hand made everything from the spindles to the A-arms and ball joints they bolted to. There was no room for mistakes on this part of the build as the suspension is what makes my car the long-travel monstrosity it is. About a year into the build, the full rolling chassis was complete. It was now time to start buying drivetrain parts and thinking about bodywork and paint. The motor of choice ended up being a LS1 5.7 litre engine pulled from a 2004 Pontiac GTO for a mere four hundred dollars. I couldn't go wrong with the LS motor, the best performing motor for the cost and easily capable of 800 hp. I tore into the motor and replaced all the bearings and installed a stage II turbo cam that would support the twin-turbo idea I had in mind. The transaxle was a much harder choice, and the prices were also much higher. I eventually decided on a Weddle S4D four speed sequential transaxle. Again, the best bang for your buck. This unit was said to be indestructible and could easily hold the power I wanted to push through it.

It was finally time for body work and paint, the last big step before reassembly. It seemed like the body work would never end since I was working outside during the heat of summer. I worked late, late into the night, every night, with hopes to finish before the school year started. I then had to look into paint. My Dad used to do custom paint back in the day, so figuring that out was super easy. Designing the graphics all over the car was definitely one of the best parts of the build which made the car stand out and set itself apart from other builds. It was now time to finally assemble the car - just as school was starting.

Assembly of the car was rather easy after all. Most things simply bolted right up. However, I had much less time to work then with school taking up most of my day. Slowly but surely, the creation came together, and I began getting excited. By the end of September, I was ready to drive it for the first time. I test drove it the night before debuting it at a car show at the high school. The hard work was paying off, and it even won a first-place ribbon at the car show, beating my brother's car. I drove that car everywhere then even though it wasn't one hundred percent complete. The attention started pouring in as I posted wheelie videos and races on social media.

I drove it through the winter on the few sunny days and kept on building its reputation. By the time warm weather rolled around again, it was complete with a full stereo and 12-inch sub crammed in the back. The warm weather also meant other fast cars were out and about to play with, so it turned from a show car to a street-race car. I have yet to lose a race in that car. It seemed my dream was finally coming true as it had no issues - at first. Beating on it all day every day was not the best decision, but it was too fun. The motor and trans have been out about five times as a result.

But it is all worth it in the end. The year-and-nine-month build was everything I wanted it to be, pulling in over 15 thousand followers on Instagram and getting many offers to buy the car reaching well over 150 thousand. I'm holding on to the car, not selling it. It is my Grandpa's Beetle after all, or what's left of it. Plans to build more are already on the way, as soon as the business is moved into a new shop. The desire for cars like mine is unimaginable especially in areas without many off-road fabricators or off-road cars. And there are only bigger things to come for the old Beetle known as the Thug Bug.