Dayna Dayson '20 Recruiting Profile

I watched my mother suffer for three years from ovarian cancer. I was so young at the time, and I didn't know what to do or how to help her. I just watched from afar, praying for her recovery. She never did get better, so two days after the New Year in 2017, she passed away. I moved in with my father after my mother passed away when I was a freshman. Not too long after, he left to the Philippines for a few months.

I grew up in a happy family for the most part, though there would be times when my parents incessantly argued day and night. My father was in and out of the picture. He'd leave to the Philippines often, or just leave the house. Once, my father was sleeping someplace else, and when I came home that day from being with him, my mother would not wake up from her sleep. She tried to commit suicide twice when I was a child. My mother had severe depression and anxiety, as well as bipolar disorder. It was hard to see her in captivity at the mental hospital, a place I also had to be confined in. I had lived with her from the age of 12 when my dad permanently left the house until the age of 15 when she passed away. It was just the two of us living in our house. I remember all the hospital visits and chemotherapy she went through. 

During my sophomore year, and partially my junior year, I was sexually harassed by a relative. I am still suffering from depression and anxiety. I was also in a very toxic relationship where I was verbally abused at times.  I began to develop an eating disorder. I wouldn’t eat for days and obsessed over how much I weighed after being cheated on. When I tried to block him, he'd find another way to contact me. Whenever I'd try to end it, he'd follow and watch me in my classes through the window. 

Recently, my brother almost overdosed from drugs. The emotions I felt when I heard the news gave me flashbacks from when my mother tried to kill herself.

Memories from the past still haunt me.

My grades dropped, I started to miss school, and I felt displaced as a result.

I managed to get my grades back up, and I started to get back on track, but then I encountered even more struggle at school. I did not have a math teacher for six months during sophomore year, and my PSAT score had taken some damage, as we had an English teacher as our substitute. I go to a school in a poor neighborhood with very little resources. My school didn’t provide me with post-secondary or opportunities I feel I may have had elsewhere. Furthermore, I had very little room to challenge myself due to the limited availability of courses.

Nothing’s been the same since then, but I still stand. No matter what I’ve been through, I always pick myself back up, because that’s what my mom would want me to do. She is my peace and motivation. She is the reason why I pick myself back up no matter how many times I fall. Without the hardships I’ve been through, I wouldn’t be who I am today. My failures are the reason why I succeed. Despite everything that’s happened, I still try to persevere through my adversities in order to make my mom proud.