Korth 

Catherine Wagner
Moreau FYE
15 October 2021
Forming a Foundation
	For many people, college is a defining and formative experience through which they come to better understand who they are, what they believe, and their purpose in life. I hope this is the case for me as I embark on my journey at Notre Dame. However, before discerning these major life questions, I think it’s important to establish a foundation of core beliefs that may be built upon. From my experiences in life so far, I’ve come to believe that I thrive in spaces where I feel that I belong, that I grow in the face of adversity, and that I pursue truth by keeping an open heart and mind.  
	From the time I was born until I was five years old, I lived in a house with my mom, my grandparents, my aunt Janelle, my aunt Emily, my uncle Scott, and my cousin Haley in a small, rural town called Lindsay. I did not grow up with a conventional family in a “normal” house, but I still recognized my grandparents’ house as my home. Through the years of watching cartoons with my grandma, playing on the swing set with my cousin, and reading picture books with my mom, I always felt welcomed and loved in my home. My family taught me that a home is more than a place; home is wherever I feel I belong. My family raised me in a way that coincides with Brené Brown’s outlook on parenting. “Our job is to look and say, ‘You know what? You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging,’” (“The Power of Vulnerability” by Brené Brown - Moreau FYE Week One). I’ve found that I search for this sense of love and belonging everywhere I go in life and that I am rarely content if I feel I am somewhere I do not belong. In high school, I felt that I had nothing in common with the athletes in my class because I was not athletically inclined, and I did not know the first thing about sports. Therefore, I searched for belonging by getting involved in fine arts activities. It was through these activities that I met my closest friends and found a passion for acting, singing, and public speaking. By and by, the stage became my home, and the talented actors and singers with whom I shared the spotlight became my family. When I think back on my time as a thespian, I will not remember the applause or the stage bows. Rather, I will never forget the community of people who made me feel so overwhelmingly welcomed and accepted on that stage. The friendships I formed in theater helped set a precedent for the friendships I seek out now. “Think back to a time where you felt uplifted, hopeful, and happy after hanging out with a friend. The best kind of friendships are the ones where you leave with a smile on your face, knowing you’re both growing to be better people and that you’re helping each other get there,” (“5 Signs You’re In a Toxic Friendship” by Olivia T. Taylor - Moreau FYE Week Four). My theater friends and I always supported and uplifted each other regardless of who was competing for the lead role of the play. Those are the kinds of friendships I plan to cultivate at Notre Dame and beyond. 
	Upon reflecting on some of the painful experiences I’ve gone through, I realized that I’m, in a way, grateful for them because they made me into the person I am today. In my “Where I’m From” poem, I repeatedly emphasized the hardships I suffered because of socioeconomic status or because I was raised in a non-conventional household (“Where I’m From” by  - Moreau FYE Week Six). However, I always linked each hardship in the poem to something positive. I only came to understand this belief that sorrow bears fruit after reflecting on the hellish year of 2020. 2020 was a particularly impressionable year of my life thus far. Because of the pandemic, I was forced out of the monotonous grind of everyday life. As a result, I had a great deal of time on my hands to reflect. I started out by pondering ways to better myself. David Brooks outlines a similar method of character building in which Adam II is cultivated. “You go into yourself, you find the sin which you’ve committed over and again through your life, your signature sin, out of which the others emerge. And you fight that sin, and you wrestle with that sin. And out of that wrestling, that suffering, then a depth of character is constructed,” (“Should you live for your résumé ... or your eulogy?” by David Brooks - Moreau FYE Week Two). After identifying areas of personal and moral deficiency, I pushed this method of character building one step further by applying it to society. In a year of immense social turmoil, I wanted to understand how we got to where we were. I remain searching for that answer to this day. At Notre Dame, I’ve continued growing in spite of hardships. A few weeks ago, I was upset because I had gotten a B on an American Politics paper that I had worked so hard on. This, combined with a notification that I was not selected to be in student government, sent me down a rabbit hole of self-doubt and impostor syndrome. Two days after receiving this combination of unfortunate news, I watched Carla Harris’ speech for Moreau. In her speech, Carla said the exact words I needed to hear in that moment. “Trust the power in you. Don’t be distracted or deterred from any impostor syndrome. Any moment where you find yourself, trust that the power within you has delivered you in perfect timing to that very moment,” (“2021 Laetare Medalist Address” by Carla Harris - Moreau FYE Week Five). Once I received the prompt for my second American Politics essay, I was determined to amend my writing process in hopes of getting an A. Luckily, I was able to receive the grade I wanted on my second essay, and I might not have if not for the initial disappointment at receiving a B on my first essay.  
	Because I was raised in rural Nebraska, I grew up in such a manner that I was not exposed to many people of different perspectives. Most of the people I grew up interacting with were white, straight, working-class, and Catholic. I had a single-minded and close-minded perspective on life; Novelist Chimamanda Adichie might say that I had a single story of different people, places, and ideas. “The consequence of the single story is this: it robs people of dignity. It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasizes how we are different rather than how we are similar,” (“The Danger of a Single Story” by Chimamanda Adichie - Moreau FYE Week Seven). I first watched “The Danger of a Single Story” in my junior english class in high school. It was part of our curriculum as we read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Since then, I've been making a conscious effort to acknowledge implicit biases that I hold and challenging myself to dismantle those stereotypes. I revisited Adichie’s TED Talk last year when the Black Lives Matter movement was at its height. I found it even more relevant and important than the first time I watched it. In fact, I thought it was so crucial to watch that I shared it with some of my family members. Two weeks ago, in my God and the Good Life class, we learned that implicit bias caused by a lack of perspective can also be referred to as an epistemic bubble. An epistemic bubble is an information network from which relevant voices have been excluded by omission. After realizing that I was caught in one epistemic bubble for a long time, I began to doubt all of my beliefs if they were not informed by multiple perspectives. For example, I now have a rocky relationship with identifying as Catholic. However, I am still open to faith and Catholicism, which is why I enjoyed reading the religious perspectives of some other Notre Dame students. I even found one perspective that I relate to. “I have recently learned that even times of spiritual desolation can be perceived as gifts because they invite me to evaluate my life in its current state and trust ever more fully in the God who loves and cares for me even when I am unwilling or unable to remember it,” (“Student Reflections on Faith” by Cheyenne - Moreau FYE Week Three). I hope my education at Notre Dame will help me to make informed decisions about my beliefs in God or religion so that I am able to decide what is true. This is one of the primary reasons I decided to register for God and the Good Life. I wanted to view religion from a philosophical perspective. After all, a primary point of philosophy is seeking the truth.
	On graduation day, I hope to finish college knowing that I found belonging, persevered despite incredible odds, and sought the truth. Additionally, I have no doubt that I will gather more and more core beliefs along the way. Through its education of mind and heart, I fully believe that Notre Dame will help me become the person I’m meant to be.