By Betsy Bolt

This summer I was digging through my closet and found
it. “It” is a giant plastic back brace that I had to wear during my freshman year of high school. I had to wear it because I have scoliosis. By the way, scoliosis isn’t as bad as it sounds. It just means my spine is shaped like an “S” instead of a straight line. But what this did mean is that I had to wear this big old nasty back brace during high school to prevent the curvature in my spine from getting worse. Anyway, I found that brace this summer. And I decided to try it on again.

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image1By Ayom Ayom

I was born in South Sudan while the second Sudanese Civil War was raging around my family’s village. My father had left to fight in the war before my birth, leaving my mother to care for my older sister and I. She was forced to flee to a refugee camp in Ethiopia, carrying a two-year-old and newborn.  She faced many difficulties along the way. We spent the first seven years of my life living in that refugee camp. We awaited news of my father, but none arrived. Eventually, my mother remarried and gave birth to two more children. Our family moved to a little town outside of Asosa, one of the larger cities in western Ethiopia. Life began to settle-in just a bit; my mother got a job working for the United Nations while my siblings and I attended school and were heavily involved in church. During this time, I accepted Christ and was baptized into the Catholic Church. View Post

img_0482By Osiris Ordaz

There have been times where God has seemed to be completely absent in my life.  Recently, my mom and I were forced to move out of a rented space we lived in for reasons not so pleasant. My mom found herself in a hard situation because finding a place to rent within her budget in the Chicagoland area is a very difficult task; and time was against us. For me, being almost ten hours away here at NWC, this situation left me overwhelmed by my inability to help. View Post

public-domain-images-free-stock-photos-002-1000x667By Justin Hullman

I was raised by a single mom on the south side of Omaha, Nebraska. Despite not ever meeting my biological father, my mom assured me that I was loved and cared for. My mom’s unconditional and deep-hearted passion for me was radically expressed daily. However, as I entered into middle school, I began to let my “fatherlessness” become my identity. I was insecure, angry, and confused. I couldn’t understand why my real dad couldn’t step up and love me like my mom. In searching for who I was, I was trapped in thinking about who I wasn’t: a boy with a loving father.
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img_0184-copyBy Ashley Doran

Hello, My name is Ashley Doran, and I have depression.

When I started at Northwestern in 2013, I thought those “dumb” feelings I had in high school were going to go away. However, I quickly fell back into an endless pit of self-loathing. Byy September 2015, I was crying all the time – for any number of reasons – and made an appointment with a doctor.   The diagnosis?  Depression and anxiety. View Post