Returning to Amherst, after another awful summer of working at a local summer camp, confused me. I was still trying to find answers to my questions and exploring who I was, if I was not an English teacher. As I entered my junior year, it felt like time was slowly running out. I would have to decide soon whether I would fully enter the STEP 4+1 program. This paralyzed me further and frankly, made me want to be selfish. In my head, I would scream that I was frustrated that alongside several other students, we were their unwilling test subjects as they tried to streamline this freshly new and still developing program. I wanted to participate in a program I knew I would genuinely enjoy, something that allowed me to explore the world around us, including our inner one. Poetry seemed to whisper all around like it was haunting me, but I was too scared to fully tune in. It was too unstable. I always hung up the phone whenever it called and reminded me what I wanted.  

When the STEP team emailed me asking to confirm my program participation, I sent a one-sentence reply stating, “No.” I had no proper backup plan for a career or what to pursue. Feelings of shame and disappointment took over me and I felt the rotten parts of being afraid deep within. I can list all of my fears from that period: changing concentrations, people hating my writing, time moving too fast, and I would never find a spot in the creative world that fit me. It was seemingly impossible to do. That fall semester, I learned that confusion and fear are often the same thing.   

I sat in the front of my horror-themed creative writing class. I had sought it out personally, to remain attentive. I wanted to hear everything my professor would eventually say. Knowing I was interested in writing and giving in to my curiosity, I took a class several of my English major friends raved about. I had taken a course similar to this before and some of my works were published. Hope and again, a little unease bubbled in me. Having your work featured, even in a campus journal, was electrifying. It meant that your peers (tangible people!) actually enjoyed something you had to say. It was both affirming and awesome! Writing in a genre I never had before also awoke something in me. I had never particularly cared about horror, with its excess amount of guts and sometimes unnecessary violence. However, this class made me envision classic monsters differently. I can tell you all about classic folklore and its connection to the genre, the history of Stephen King, and how horror movies feast on our natural survival instincts. Horror as a genre was suddenly a real concept to me; I envisioned its design and the dedication that goes into this work. Its intricacy made me appreciate everything that was designed to make us scream. 

Joining the Jabberwocky team as a poetry editor was easier than my old summer camp job. There were a lot fewer rocks thrown at me and we never had to call home. My only responsibility was to read dozens of poems a week and rank them. On the rare occasion, I would have to read around a hundred. Typing my notes, huddled in a chair, made me feel like a real writer. I felt like I had finally made it and I hadn’t even published a book yet!  

Participating in Jabberwocky opened my eyes further to creative writing. I initially felt like a coward, attending our first meeting together. I didn’t feel qualified or that I had enough to say. I had only taken one course!  Everyone was so intimidating, so loud about their love for creative writing, and the classes they’ve taken. I hung onto every word of their insight. During the first few meetings, I felt like a ghost in the room. But, devouring poems weekly and discussing features with my fellow editors was something I needed. It gave me an outlet, a way to explore more of this love for writing like they had. As the semester progressed, speaking up and sharing what I thought was easier. I had a voice, something I had lost beforehand. 

        Declaring a concentration in creative writing wasn’t as scary as I anticipated. It was a simple email to an English advisor and I was allowed to pursue it. Configuring a new schedule only took half an hour, completing itself right before my eyes. Overcoming my fears of pursuing something different than my initial plan wasn’t detrimental to my college experience or life. I thought some sort of monster, like my old dreams or campers, would haunt me. They didn’t. 

As what some may call a “raging feminist,” I love anything that has to do with intersectionality, gender, women’s studies, the law, or advocacy.  It’s a title I embrace both in my personal and academic life. Texts that discuss girlhood and its intricacies are of particular interest, to me. In my English 254 course, a class about creative writing and horror, I surprisingly encountered several. A collection that stood out to me was The Dangers of Smoking in Bed by Mariana Enriquez. Throughout the entirety of the book, all of the stories are centered on women and young girls. While we read a few other pieces from it, one story scared me due to its plausible nature. “Our Lady of the Quarry” captured me with its title alone. A text so deeply rooted in feminism, horror, and religion–it was almost impossible to resist. It taught me so much about the writing process and its versatile power, something that authors and writers, can work with. 

The title managed to capture me because of its complexity. It reveals the complex relationship between the religion and secular world; Our Lady denotes a higher being, while the quarry represents the man-made structure. I was curious about how could the two exist at once and after reading the story, I’m not sure if they can. The story revolves around a coven-like group of teenage girls and their adult friend, Silvia, who the girls villainze. Their insecurity heightens once Diego, an attractive man, is introduced and begins a friendship with all of them. The group frequently hangs out at a quarry. Here, they swim and party loudly as they hide from the man who lives there. He owns a gun and seemingly dogs, which he has employed on other groups of teenagers before. After coming to the quarry for a couple of weeks, Diego and Silvia are revealed to be in a relationship. The girls are angered, with their leader Natalia the most upset. Eventually, Diego suggests they go find the quarry’s altar. Both he and Silvia trick the girls into swimming there, as the pair walk to it. Enraged upon arrival, even as they apologize, Natalia begins to pray to the altar. Upon completing this, the wild dogs appear and attack the older couple. The girls simply walk away, uninjured, leaving them to their deaths.  

I related to aspects of this story; having been a teenage girl, I understood how our emotions and closeness to one another could be unsettling, something that has been feared historically. I too understood the power of girls that were close, a coven-like structure that could easily infiltrate. Curious to see this power, I dove into this story. Enriquez’s electrifying prose, sinister characterization, and careful choice of words stunned me. I had never read a story that felt so alive, filled with an impossibly realistic voice. It horrified me. The girls felt like they could jump out of the page, praying to end my life, and suddenly, I would be gone too. Horror as a genre had previously disgusted me, with its exaggerated usage of gore and violence. But, this scared me because it was overly familiar and powerful yet seemingly talking about our real world.   

Natalia’s character stood out as she subverted the expectation horror places on their female characters. The audience can sometimes act like women aren’t capable of being villains or violent. She was the group’s leader, gave in to her primal urges, and lacked remorse. I considered her a key figure; Natalia represented what women can do when they give into their feminine rage. She showcased how ugly our emotions can be, especially at a young age and unchecked. Natalia, alongside her friends, did not want to be undermined by both Diego and Silvia. This anger combined with their desire to be heard and seen constructed a beautifully appalling scene as they begin interacting with the Virgin statue. I viewed it as a form of resistance.

Writing creatively reflects the discourse of our society and exists ultimately, as an opposition to our daily values. The idea of writing being resistant filled my thoughts in conjunction with my other English courses. A short story, book, or poetry are all ways we can protest, use our voices, and reflect on our society. Academic papers and journals can explore different forms of oppression and ways to combat them. My training and courses for the writing center perfectly aligned with this creative writing course and philosophy. While I did not take these courses at the same time, as I reflect on my major, I understand how they build upon one another. In my training course, we discussed writing in different English’s and how we should uplift each tutee’s voice. As a tutor, my job is to collaborate with the tutees themselves, encouraging them to have autonomy over their writing and to resist conformity, if wanted. In every session, I inevitably tell a tutee: “Hey, you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to even if your professor said so.” While this phrase isn’t always met with acceptance, I say it every time. Owning your work, your voice, and ultimately your writing, is the greatest act of protest one can do. Working creatively and academically over the last few years has ingrained this in me. 

 “Our Lady of the Quarry” was one story amidst thousands that engaged with the patriarchy; as an English major, I interact with a variety of discourses and oppressive forms. Enriquez’s story stood out to me not only for its horrifying premise, but for its narration. Writing is an act of power and because of her storytelling, my feminist mindset expanded. I’ve thought about Natalia over the last several months–why was she the only one named, why was she the most unstable, and how did she manage to do it? Enriquez introduced female power, a type of magic, to her audience. She constructed characters that weren’t scared and rejected the “final girl” archetype, dismantling patriarchal concepts through death. Still, Natalia’s character made me think more about the agency we give to characters and ownership over our work. I wanted to explore more of this in my classes and see if it was possible to continue this agenda.  

I began to take creative writing more seriously, ultimately leading me to my English 356 course. While its center is on surrealist poetry, I am interested in combining a traditionally male-dominated genre with feminism and girlhood. I want to see how power and writing can intersect in such a rich art form, as several female surrealist poets are forgotten to time. Though the course has only started, I have already begun engaging with these notions deeply in my work. Weekly, we have to write one to two poems. In these assignments, I think to myself: “How can I own it? What can I do to make it entirely me and my lived experience?” These are hard questions to answer! As I begin writing, I remember how necessary it is to promote both my voice and other marginalized groups. Without diverse writing and reading, we can never have autonomy over ourselves and learn about others. We will never be able to properly sympathize. 

The English major at UMass is an incredibly rewarding experience. I’ve taken several courses in creative writing and while its intersection with my writing center and personal work was not always obvious, I see how critical it is. Writing is a way to resist both societal and personal beliefs; it forces us to reflect on who we are. We have to embrace our identities and our work, even if no one reads it because our voices combined make noise for change and reflection.

I am the only person in my family to ever leave the country. My parents can not see a reason why to vacation anywhere else unless it’s the mountains or Disney World. While I appreciate that I’ve spent several Halloween holidays trick or treating in the Magic Kingdom, I grew bored of it by 16. After traveling to Quebec, I knew I wanted to see more, especially of the Francophone world. This was for a middle school trip and while I could barely speak a lick of French, I was enamored with the language and culture. I continued my French studies throughout high school and inevitably, college. 

The language was something that had followed me my entire life. In my singing career, in my free study time, in the literature I read, it was always French. I knew I wanted to pursue it further, not out of any general necessity, but for my heart. At the time, I was beginning to feel like my college career was filled with requirements and a lack of freedom. By taking courses in this language, I saw other opportunities to see other parts of myself I had yet to explore.

“You want to go to France? Why do you want to go to France? Are you sure it’s safe?” my mom questioned. My dad began to laugh and replied, “You know she’s going to do it no matter what. She’s already got a passport.” 

Studying abroad, to me, seemed like an enlightening experience. After a lengthy conversation with my parents and reminders that I can navigate in other countries, I researched different summer programs. There were so many options of where to go! It was almost impossible to settle on. After looking through several companies, I decided to pursue the API program in Paris. It was a natural pick. A city so rich with history and culture, several excursions included, and an international dormitory were all included. The grocery stipend card was simply a plus. I selected courses in intermediate French at the Institut Catholique de Paris (ICP) and after a whirlwind semester of preparing, I was suddenly at Boston Logan Airport, alone. I was horrified. Studying abroad quickly became a terrible idea until I saw the Eiffel Tower from the window. The tall monument reminded me of the dreams I had since I was young and that was to see Paris. I saw it and I loved it. 

The first few days flew by. I stayed in multiple hotels with my cohort, comprised of students from all over America. We were given lessons on French culture and general slang. Our program directors personally moved us into Cité Universitaire and here I was–a student in Paris! My dormitory was located in the 14th arrondissement (district). There were international grocery stores, a soccer field prepared for the Olympics, and a little crepe stand in front of the United States housing. It was perfect and everything I had ever dreamed of. I lived alone in my room that overlooked the street and one of the local parks. At this time, I felt so mature. My sense of independence was increasing daily during my study abroad; I was able to survive my flight and navigate speaking with locals at restaurants. Yes, I did smile too much and carried a water bottle everywhere, but that could be quickly fixed. I could act French and like an adult. 

I want to let you know ahead of time, that I did succeed in both but it was an extremely demanding task. I did not understand how out of my element I was until I attended my first class. It was located in one of the city’s wealthiest arrondissements and frankly, it was clear how American I was. Gawking at everything, stumbling over my words, and staring at Google Maps as I walked–I mean, how silly of me! Walking into my class with a few of the other students in my cohort felt equally cumbersome. Schooling in France differs from our system; the days are much longer with an extended lunch break. Our teacher, Nicole, also enjoyed cold-calling more than any American teacher I’ve ever encountered. She spoke little to no English, which at times, made learning new vocabulary hard. While I did carry a dictionary with me, she forbade its usage. She instructed us to use context clues to learn new words and grammatical structures. I was also one of the few Americans in my class. My friends were two older women, Somo and Pinshuan from Thailand. They had lived in Paris for a few years, trying to break into the design world. They told me stories about the city, the places they had seen, and ways to assimilate into the country. I knew I would have to quickly adapt, to prove that I was responsible, but to also maintain my grades. 

It felt as though my independence and dependence were on a scale that switched daily. Some days, I could walk into a store and speak perfect French to the attendant! On other days, I would stare out the window and wish I was more brave to see other parts of the city. The other students partied and walked through Paris freely. As someone quieter, I did not enjoy the idea of frequent late nights or getting lost. I decided to challenge myself and navigate the city without anyone else. Just me and a map, of course. Taking a day off from school (this was much more important, Madame Nicole), I took the metro to the Centre Pompidou. Both Somo and Pinshuan had recommended it to me! I did get lost but eventually found my way to the museum after walking the streets of Paris. 

This building, while known to be the ugliest in the world by the general French public, holds a lot of sentimental value to me. I saw so many innovative art pieces, light designs, and exhibits that made me feel something I had never experienced; ditching my classes and traveling in an unknown city caused a feeling of elation. I felt young and free. I felt like I could do anything. At the museum, I walked through the Norman Foster exhibit, filled with different kinds of architecture and his photography collective. I was amazed–he created the Boston MFA out of toothpicks and sent his designs all over the world! His pictures captured his life, his love for beauty, and his memories. I realized, while staring at his collection, that being an adult was more than responsibility and independence. It was about using those traits to seek out what makes us human and to connect with the world around us.

Foster’s exhibit stuck with me as I continued to venture into the museum. Taking the escalator down, marveling at what I’d argue to be the best view of the city, I settled onto the second floor. After much reflection, this part of my day has influenced me the most. Instantly, I spotted a painting with a lilac background and a pink silhouette of a young woman. She had white, cloud-like shapes donned over various parts of her body. I stood and stared at it for admittedly, a long time. I couldn’t settle on what it exactly was–was she resting, falling, and did she feel scared or free? I connected with it instantaneously. It captured what I had felt throughout the entirety of my time abroad and college. Those feelings of uncertainty seemed to dissipate as I eventually forced myself to move on. I decided that she felt free, in the end. 

The rest of my time in Paris was spent doing similar excursions, while not skipping class, of course. I walked through the Jardin au Luxembourg (a famous garden), the Louvre, Galleries Lafayette (extremely large shopping malls), and even Dijon all by myself. Completing things at my own pace, while asking for help if I needed it, made me feel like the adult I wanted to be. I honored myself and my wishes by participating in this study abroad. While I still sometimes struggle with my age, I remember fondly my experience in Paris. If I could be brave and do something there, I could do anything anywhere. 

“I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” – Audre Lorde

 Standing in front of a courtroom with a large manila folder and a stubborn head, I shook slightly. I was thinking about what I would want for lunch when we went to recess, trying to divert my attention away from the judge who spoke with a firm tone. Here I was, trying to act much older, in an attempt to plead my case. I was serving as my attorney at 16 for harassment and domestic violence charges. My folder was filled with text messages, email chains, screenshots from cameras, and documents from the countless interviews I had done. Already, my legal mind was buzzing and I knew that I couldn’t nail him for assault charges due to a lack of evidence. However, I knew that by him following me around I could at least get him on something.  

I remember speaking with the court advocate after several hours of questioning, asking what decision would be made, and upon seeing her hidden remorse, reality struck. How many others stood where I did and upon the decision, felt that their courage was disregarded? This horror washed over me. I did not want my life to be symbolically over at such a young age–it felt like it was just beginning and already, I had dealt with so much. The advocate replied that she didn’t know what the judge would decide. I believe that at some level, we do have an idea of the outcome for cases like these: the plaintiff is never taken seriously. Several years later, I still endure remarks of falsehoods in my hometown.  

I am happy to report that I did win that case. When I left the courtroom and made eye contact with the defendant, I smiled. A bit out of smugness, but also because I was relieved that I was successful. I fought for what I knew to be true and what I believed in what was right, by using my voice and my story. 

The harsh reality, felt by so many women, hit even harder after the overturning of Roe v. Wade. After crying about this decision, it fueled my passion to advocate. I knew nothing yet about the science behind abortion, barriers, various options, or state legislation. All I knew was that it was wrong to take away someone’s choice. Historically, this happens to communities perceived as inferior, such as women. In response, I decided to develop my chapter of Girl Up at UMass, as a way to mitigate social change and gender equity. Girl Up is a UN Foundation campaign that serves, educates, advocates and fundraises at a local, national, and global level. While starting a club on campus was overly tedious, it has been incredibly fulfilling. An example of an event we’ve hosted was “Workplace Rights.” We hosted a presentation on workplace rights we’re guaranteed, how to advocate for these and noteworthy legislation. In addition, we hosted a panel of women in the workforce to share their experiences. Helping my peers better understand the world, specifically the legal world, made me realize how crucial this work is. 

Eventually, I served on the Advocacy Committee of Girl Up New England. I wanted to expand my impact on advocacy. Being able to serve the region was a genuinely beautiful experience. I met so many like-minded women who were ready to start or continue the fight for equity. Our work felt impactful, as we were recognized by different, national leaders. The best event was our 8th Annual Summit. With participants coming from various states, we hosted it in Cambridge with a focus on menstrual equity. We hosted presentations on menstrual cycles, common barriers, key legislation in the states, and more. Attendees wrote letters to Congress, asking for support on bills that would fund menstrual products in schools. They also heard from Senator Patricia Jehlen and the former mayor of Cambridge Sumbul Siddiqui, who spoke about the importance of this work. However, our work suddenly became global when we partnered with Fihri. This organization hosted a Period Packing event at our summit, where we decorated pouches and filled them with sustainable period products. They were sent to Gaza, to help those that lacked access to menstrual products. Over 200 pouches were sent. 

Seeing the gratitude and willingness to help with the attendees and fellow board members inspired me. I saw the happy tears knowing that aid would be received, the sadness that it was needed in the first place, and the commitment to continue advocacy. After our summit, I reflected inward and thought: what else can I continue to do? What can I do, after college? Junior year was meant to be a place to begin considering my post-graduate life and here, on that rainy day, I began to see some glimmer of hope. I began to consider law school. 

I continued my consideration, as I studied for the LSAT, and applied to summer internships. This test was difficult, to say the least! In the middle of my preparation, I doubted myself. It was easy to compare myself to my peers, online forums, and even my past scores. I originally meant to take the test this past August, after the removal of the dreaded Logic Games, but I didn’t. My anxiety and imposter syndrome had overcome me, leading me to stop studying altogether. Heavy prep books collected dust and my flashcards were deep in my backpack. I tore down my study schedule above my desk. I felt like I couldn’t do it, that I could not help the women around me. I was not brave. I had forgotten what I did at 16. 

I thought that until I became a summer intern at Collective Power with the Campus Abortion Doula project. This organization works primarily with reproductive justice and was constructing a comprehensive toolkit to send to Massachusetts campuses to begin medication abortion services. In addition, students would be able to start abortion doula services on campus; abortion doulas provide emotional, physical, and mental support to those enduring this experience. This project began at UMass and now, I was there to provide legal knowledge that I obtained through both my coursework and advocacy work. My other responsibilities were meeting with various other organizations and companies, writing various sections of the toolkit, and researching abortion access on MA campuses. What I found was egregious–only 2 of the 29 public campuses offered medication abortion on campus. Despite the law telling them to create readiness plans and the Department of Public Health offering financial support, several schools refused. Their reasoning was weak, stating that it wasn’t necessary or that providers nearby could do it. It angered me beyond belief, to log onto my computer every day and see another email from an administrator saying students had no barriers on their campus.    

When I felt anger, I remembered the small sparks of it that I felt at 16. Angry that I wasn’t believed, that justice was so close yet unobtainable, how experts could scream about what was needed and still not be heard–I still can’t understand how the world operates like this. Even now that I know the LSAT is harder than I could have imagined, I can’t sit idle. My classes and internships have shown me the barriers countless women face in exercising their rights. Knowing that the next Trump term holds inconceivable change and danger for women, I know it’s necessary to fight back. This anger and need for change is transformative both as an individual and to my community; it facilitates conversation on our current state and how it can be improved upon. I currently plan to take a gap year after graduation to continue preparing and applying to law school during the Fall 2025 cycle. While I initially doubted my skills and experience, my reflections have shown me that I am capable of becoming a lawyer who stimulates change for our country. 

I feel like my entire life up until this point has been centered around work and improvement. How efficient can I be? What can I do to get a grade I like? What else can I apply to? 

I don’t want to focus on that as much in my future. 

Movement has also been an essential part of my life. I ran track throughout high school, weight lifted for years, and I try to walk for at least twenty minutes a day. I believe it clears not only the body but the mind. I wanted to continue chasing this feeling of mindfulness in movement and to also find different forms of exercise. Weights suddenly became boring and too aggressive. I no longer wanted to lift hundreds of pounds a few times a week and (unintentionally) slam them into the ground. After reflecting on this, I realized I was craving more of an intuitive and peaceful workout. Pilates, a type of workout that seems mystified, piqued my interest. I had no idea what it was like. My only knowledge was the glowing reviews my friends said, hearing it was beneficial for a mind-body connection, and more low-impact compared to other workouts. For the last few months, I’ve begun taking pilates classes both online and in person. 

As I begin to finish up the fall semester of my senior year, I’m starting to consider my future more heavily. I’ve already concluded that I want to focus more on myself and my interests as these months pass by. Though I’ve already reintroduced old hobbies back into my lifestyle, I wanted to see what else I may be interested in. Getting more deeply involved in Pilates, in my opinion, is the perfect fit. While I have no idea where I may be living next year or where I may be working, I know that I would to obtain a Pilates instructor certification. 

I first grew interested in teaching pilates after attending a few mat classes. These classes are held entirely on a workout mat, usually using weights or a small ball as a supplement, while your body does the work. When exercising, instructors usually tell their students to connect with various parts of the body through breath. For example, an instructor may say “Breathe out as you extend your leg, breathe in as you close.” I found these phrases to be personally quite fascinating! It was so easy to change a workout as quick as that, merely through breath. It made me so much more attuned with my body, creating more of that muscle connection. I was never able to attain this as easily with lifting or any other exercise.

The mat classes also showed me community. Each week, I went with the same teacher who took time to learn my name and a bit about who I was. She did this with all of her students, asking about our majors or what we had done over the weekend. I noticed that students who came regularly also did the same with one another. This made me feel more welcomed than I ever did in weight-lifting spaces. It was primarily a female-dominated space that felt comfortable to be in; we all knew that we wanted to improve not only our health but our minds. I never felt a need to try and seem stronger or push myself past my physical limits. In contrast, I felt that however I showed up, I would be accepted and embraced.  

Online classes also garnered a similar feeling within myself. These options are available for free on YouTube or available for purchase with a live online instructor. I’ve always gravitated toward the video options at least twice a week because it allows me to be alone. While I do enjoy the pilates community, exercising solo provides a space to focus on oneself and reflect inward. I can pause if I need to, modify workouts, and take deep breaths quietly. However, the convenience and ability to choose different workouts based on needs is my favorite. Health and well-being are frequently neglected as a college student; we are always rushing to finish an assignment late at night, so we can go to bed! Sometimes, we may choose to not take an hour to exercise because there is already too much to do. The online classes provide flexibility. It’s so easy to type in “pilates workout 20 minutes” into a search engine and suddenly, you’re already on your mat. While sometimes I can’t take a full hour, I can take a few minutes to help my health. I want to be able to give this same option to other students as well as others. 

Before considering this option, I debated whether I could see myself as an instructor. Reflecting on my background in education, I believe that I can do this. I’ve held a teacher position before, and while this is a different medium, I still love to teach. I love the idea of setting up my space to be mindful, shouting encouragement, and helping students correct their form. Helping others has always been a passion of mine and I want to start extending help in the fitness realm. 

To obtain a pilates instructor certification, I will need to take a course. I would prefer to complete an in-person one or a live online course so I can receive real-time feedback and meet those who also aspire to be instructors. There are a multitude of options available! Some courses can be as little as 50 hours or up to 500. It all depends on what you are taught, the level of advancement, and what kind of pilates you want to teach. I am most interested in teaching mat pilates as it is the most accessible to all. For example, obtaining a certification that includes a reformer (a type of exercise machine that is used strictly in pilates) is a lot more expensive and limits me to teaching primarily at a studio. 

One certification program that I am interested in is Pilates Instructor Academy. They offer an online course with the option of meeting via Zoom with a certified instructor to receive feedback. It includes self-paced lectures that detail beginner, intermediate, and advanced exercises. Additionally, there are classes that you can observe and take notes on. What draws me the most is the private forum between you and other students. This would enable me to talk and learn from my peers, building up a greater connection with those in the community. The cost of this is lower than a majority of certifications: $799 for 65 hours with payment plans for those who qualify. This option seems the most viable as it’s the most cost-effective and flexible, as I would be working full-time. 

Balanced Body is one of the most prominent educators and shops for pilates. They offer certifications, such as Mat I, II, and III. These classes are 16 hours completed throughout the weekend with online and in-person options available. Mat I covers the history and foundation of Pilates, beginner and intermediate exercises, and guidelines for teaching elderly and pregnant people. What stands out to me is that teaching and designing classes are also covered. Each course builds upon one another. The courses individually cost between $500-650 dollars. Balanced Body is also well-known to have a focus on anatomy and movement, which is something I would like to learn more about. As I don’t have any experience learning or working with these, I feel like I would benefit from these classes so I could better describe movement to students. Overall, to complete the entire program, you need to observe for 15 hours, 35 teaching hours, 20 personal sessions, and 16 hours of movement principle classes. There is also a written and practical exam. In total, it is 134 hours for approximately ~1,500 dollars. While this option is more expensive, I appreciate how much I would be able to learn and get to practice. I would be able to complete parts of it at my own pace, which gives me another level of flexibility.  

The last program I am interested in is Power Pilates. They are centered around classical Pilates, which is based on the founder Joe Pilates’s work and vision. I enjoy this because as I’ve mentioned previously, the philosophy of pilates and deep breathing means a lot to me; it’s something I would want to emphasize through practice. Their Mat Academy is very similar to the Balance Body training, with each course building upon the other. However, the courses delve more deeply into teaching compared to other certifications. Through these tools, I would be able to provide more personalized attention to my students and offer modifications when necessary. It also includes textbooks, course manuals, and video lessons. I can also register for teaching practice sessions with an instructor to gain more experience. The completion of all three courses would be $1,700, fully online and self-paced. The program’s emphasis on philosophy and focus on teaching various levels and abilities draws me in. 

I am still debating which certification I would like to pursue. Pilates Instructor Academy is the most financially viable but also offers the least amount of practice. Balanced Body, though more expensive, offers more knowledge of anatomy and physiology. While Power Pilates includes more of a philosophical and educational approach, it is the most expensive. I will have to debate this further once I see my financial health in my post-graduate life!    

Once I obtain my certification, I would like to start a YouTube channel and post workouts a few times a week. I am not expecting this to transform into my full-time job, rather I would like for this to be a hobby and another stream of income. I would prefer to do this online as I can easily control my hours, tailor videos through editing, and take breaks when needed. To be able to earn money, I must apply and join the YouTube Partners Program. This enables me to monetize my videos based on my views and earn advertising revenue, which are the two largest sources of income from the site. For example, if I earn 1 million views on a video, my revenue would be between $3,000-5,000 dollars. Realistically, per 1,000 views, I would earn between $2-12 dollars. The advertising on videos would be the most beneficial as program partners earn 55% of revenue, dependent on video views. Again, I am not expecting this to be my main source of income! The passive income is simply a benefit to my overall life and financial well-being. 

To develop a well-rounded channel that attracts viewers, I must post a variety of workouts for different levels. My favorite online instructor, Move with Nicole, posts a few times a week with similar content. Similar to her, I want to post workouts with different lengths and levels to help my viewers. I can tailor workouts to specific needs, such as wanting stronger and toned arms or abs. They can be further tailored by specifying if they are meant to be a morning workout, with a more energizing style, or a more calm nighttime routine. Workouts can include minimal equipment that some may have on hand such as a ball, weights, or a band. As a certified instructor, I would be able to post different workouts that students can choose from depending on their comfort level and availability.

It is not my life dream to have a career in pilates, instead, it is my heart’s desire to further explore this exercise and philosophy while sharing it with others. I don’t intend to pursue a career full-time and only want to teach it casually via YouTube. Completing a certification program would make me truly happen as I know I would be completing it solely for myself, my body, and my well-being. I want to focus on doing what makes me happy and exercise fulfills this facet in my life. Though I am unsure of where I’ll be located and working, I think the self-paced online classes would be the easiest to complete as I can stay disciplined and remember my goal of making myself happy.