Tommy was in my fifth grade class and every day he would come to school, with his head low. He didn’t speak much, didn’t want to participate in class, and I remember Tommy was never happy. One day, Tommy didn’t come to school and a couple days later, our teacher told us Tommy had died. Parents were sent letters explaining the situation. I didn’t find out that Tommy, a mere fifth grader, had taken his own life by walking in front of a car, until I was in high school. My passion for working with younger students and helping them explore the world around them started in my early high school years. When it was time for me to select a major for college, I knew that it was going to be education. Learning and thriving in my education courses didn’t seem like work but more like a method for bettering me. I finally crossed paths with a professor who taught me that teaching is not all about the curriculum but getting through to the child, as well. I asked her about Tommy; I told her the whole story. Her response was simple. “There will always be a Tommy but he won’t always come across the right teacher.” If I could earn a living doing what I love most, it would be to teach because if I could not only mold the minds of young children but save just one child like Tommy, then I will have changed the world.