I’m from a small California town where the community is very close-knit. You grow up in an environment where your neighbors and friends become your family. Everyone knows who you are, where you are, and where you’re going. I had a very loving family; they were my support system, always encouraging me to strive for more. My older sister was a big part of my life, always giving me advice and helping me through any situation, whether it was good or bad. Going through high school I guess you could label me an overachiever; I was involved in just about everything you could do. I took the most rigorous courses, played sports, participated in student leadership, and even volunteered locally. I was always optimistic and upbeat. In my eyes, the world was a good place.

The United States had never previously been in a war that affected me. I was 18, which allowed me to vote and be in the military. Following the September 11 attacks, I was very distraught. On that day I can remember exactly what I was doing. I was getting ready to go to school. I remember walking into my parents' room. The television was on, which was odd considering my parents should have been at work. Looking at the television screen, I thought my parents were watching a trailer for a new movie. The twin towers were engulfed in smoke and flames with damage done all outside the buildings. It looked fictitious. Unfortunately, it was real. As talks of war started to develop, I wasn't sure what to feel. I thought the war could potentially be justified but it seemed more like an opportunity to enter the region and retaliate for what had been done to us. Initially I never saw the United States as a malevolent actor. In fact, it wasn't until my service and my subsequent education that I started to realize our role as a “superpower.”