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Why I'm Here

  • Oct 26, 2025
  • 3 min read

Updated: Dec 12, 2025


When I first began my college career, I was beyond excited to keep both the practical and creative parts of my brain in play. By choosing my accounting major, I sharpened my logic and learned the language of business, while electing my additional film and media major gave me room to create, innovate, and learn to think outside the box. In the last few semesters, however, I’ve lost the opportunity to nurture my creative strengths, overwhelmed by an overload of accounting and entertainment business–specific courses. I am so grateful for the opportunity I have had to learn about the intermingling of these two industries, however something is missing. 


What recently reignited this awareness was one of my classes this semester, which focuses on cultivating an entrepreneurial mindset within the realm of media. During our first introductions, we were asked to share a project we were working on. My turn came, and instead of highlighting a business venture, I found myself sharing about my semester abroad in Spain and the thousands of photos and videos I had taken to document my journey. Those four months were the first time in years that I had the space to reconnect with the passions that drew me to Syracuse and my major in the first place—storytelling through media. I’ve always believed that video and film are among the most powerful ways we communicate and connect.


After I shared, my professor asked me, “Why don’t you have a travel blog?” While I’ve never considered myself enough of a world traveler to justify one, his question struck something deeper. In just a few words, he unlocked memories of my earliest creative projects—including the blog and website my dad gifted me for my 11th birthday. The domain was called “Stella, Star of the Sea,” inspired by my favorite childhood story.



I would be remiss if I didn’t admit that part of why I loved that book was simply because Stella and I shared a name. But it was more than that. The story also reminded me of my own relationship with my younger brother, another red-headed rascal who, like Sam in the book, was always a little wary of the ocean and the bigger world beyond. And perhaps it spoke to me because I have loved the beach for as long as I can remember—shell hunting was one of my favorite hobbies as a kid. In the story, Stella and her little brother spend the day at the sea. Stella has been there before and knows all its secrets, while Sam is full of questions: “Does a catfish purr? Does a seahorse gallop?” Stella has answers for everything—except whether Sam will ever step into the water.



Looking back, it’s no wonder that story meant so much to me. It captured curiosity, creativity, and courage—the very qualities I felt slipping away in recent years, and the ones I’m now working to reclaim through this project.


It isn’t really about the blog itself, or even that children’s book. What resurfaced for me was the simple truth that I’ve always needed a space to create. Research shows that most children confidently identify as artists until around third grade. At first glance, it’s easy to blame self-consciousness or comparison, but the real reason is that this is when standardized testing begins. That shift—toward measurement, performance, and structure—often silences creativity. At 22 years old, I find myself feeling that loss all over again. The more I’ve immersed myself in rigorous academics, the less room I’ve given my creative voice.


There have been moments when I’ve experienced the best of both worlds. But right now, I’m in a rut—a place where I need to create, share, and reflect again. That’s why I began this project.


This archive is more than a collection of photos and videos. It’s a portfolio of sorts, yes, but also a space to rediscover and reclaim my creativity. It’s a window into who I am, what I care about, and where I want to go. Beyond documenting experiences, I hope it becomes a place where I can share my ideas and perspectives on life, my generation, and the world around me. In doing so, I hope not only to reconnect with my own creative voice, but also to inspire others to embrace theirs.



 
 
 

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