The Hatters’ Herald is soliciting senior college essays for publication this fall, and running them as op-ed columns. Here is the first submission.

My eyes approached a typical oak tree in the middle of winter when I was six years old. Except this time, I paid attention to the trees charred outer surface. Tears ran down my red cheeks as I felt guilt for the tree being brought down by piles of snow. The warmth of my lilac scarf suddenly escaped my neck and in one swift moment, it was around the tree’s body. Ever since that day, I have spent all days up until today lending my self love tips and tricks to trees. I have gotten to know a forest of girls lacking the empowerment a girl deserves to have in their very core- their inner concentric circles have been going astray, forming a pattern that a dendrologist would view as broken. I have put weeks upon weeks into repairing what has yet to grow in a solid portion of my poems- other’s self love.

My brain has been cultivated to appreciate my being. From just a mere age of six, I had others telling me I was excessively different to the point where I became immune to such comments early on. I now try to push others to experience the amount of confidence I have developed. When asked to write a poem to my future daughter, the very first line came to be, “If you ever find yourself not loving your body the way I raised you to, please take a step back.” I am a firm believer of holding your own love close to your heart before letting someone else love you. The way I hear other young ladies talk about their physique as if it was meant to be composite sends a concern -like no other- through my heart. I continue to come across girl’s repeating unfathomable remarks to their self in the mirror; they’re training themselves to only know how to feel good when they’re wanted.

A lot of people have yet to recognize that to be loved, you have to continue through life like a tree. Everyone passes hundreds of thousands of trees in their lifetime and pays the forest erupting along the sidelines of the road, not a thought whatsoever. Trees, at first, have to be taken care of. But after their first few summers, they will be accustom to the heat and drought. Trees eventually blossom and pack rain into their roots making it so others do not have to. If everyone was to put down the mirror, take those hasty remarks out of their daily internal dialogue and grow like a tree, pride would root itself into the lives of many young girls. Body positivity and daily female struggles are one of many topics I am hoping to give perspective on in my poetry. I am pushing through everyday life picking girls up from where they have been willingly tossed and by being a published poet in the near future, I hope to continue this. Admiration for your existence is becoming integral to succeeding. Without it, a lot of girls will be torn up and defeated; I want everyone to find their self-importance. I have made it my job to help others find the same revelation I found. Through writing poetry and gaining confidence, I have become a tree willing to lend a branch to others.

Editor’s Note: This is senior Ana Rodriguez’s college essay that she is contributing to the Hatters’ Herald.