A Chance for a Different Future

In our last post, we shared one of the outstanding scholarship essays that we received. Today we are offering another, this one from Anna Mae Troyer in Ohio. She does a beautiful job of introducing herself, so let’s go right to her essay.

I have never authored an essay that is formed with the assumption that the person reading it will already understand who I am. As a stranger, it seems a bold claim to make. However, when I stumbled across the Amish Descendants Scholarship while searching for other people like me, I felt that kinship immediately. So, even though I am writing this essay with a strong feeling that you, the Reader, will already know what my story will be, I will do my best to add a little personal flare.

Like many Amish people, I was born into a big family that had been big for as long as people counted such things. I am the oldest of nine, my father the oldest of eight and my mother somewhere in the middle of fourteen. When my time came to start school, my parents made the decision to send me to a public school instead of the little Amish school down the road. This was due to their lack of available income at the time. It is a rite of passage to cry on your first day of school and I was no exception. I had so much anxiety about being able to communicate with teachers and classmates that first year, but after
some time and a good deal of learning, I began to thrive.

I found myself in school. I loved everything about it. I used my first computer in the elementary school computer lab. I got my first library card and ate my first crappy cafeteria pizza. I read books about stars, rock formations, and animals I have still never seen. I saw a dinosaur for the first time when we went on our 3rd grade field trip to the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, and in 6th grade after we borrowed $600 from my aunt, I was lucky enough to spend a weekend in DC. I probably did seem out of place at times, as all the other Amish kids I started kindergarten with slowly moved back to the Amish school, but I rarely cared.

After a few years, I was the only Amish person in my grade. My siblings were all attending the same school, but most were in the same position as I was. At that time, our financial situation was not great. The school had many fantastic programs for low-income families, so my siblings and I were in good hands. Without the free school lunches and the backpacks of food sent home, our problems would have been significantly worse. The school also tried to accommodate our unique situation by providing different resources we could use if a take home assignment called for a computer or a printer.

As I got closer to that 8th grade deadline, my anxieties began to take hold. Many of my friends were already thinking of what they wanted to spend the rest of their lives doing, whereas I felt increasingly suffocated by my lack of options. I knew from a young age that I didn’t want to spend my entire life raising children and keeping a home like many generations of women before me had, but I didn’t have a solid plan. All I knew was that I needed more schooling. My parents ended up relenting after many tearful arguments and agreed to let me start a homeschooling program offered through my high school. The only caveat was that they would not provide any help, and if I was found out by the community, I would deal with the consequences. I ended up completing 9th grade and had just started 10th when I got caught. My cousin walked into my room while I was using a computer for school, and within a week, everyone knew. To this day, I have never felt dread as heavily as I did when my mom, dad and I walked over to my grandparents’ house to talk it over.

Now, I am one of the lucky ones. Most of my family would be considered progressive in Amish terms. While I did a great deal of defending my self-imposed right to education that night, there really were no long-term consequences, and I went back to school only slightly disheartened. That was until my grandpa on my mom’s side passed away. This sent my mom into a mental health spiral which resulted in me having to drop out. Giving up what I had fought so hard for was definitely a hit on my own mental health, but I told myself that when I was older, I would find my way back…. And I did.

In 2020, I bought a car, rented an apartment, started an Adult Education program through the state of Ohio, and met my now fiancé. It was a very busy year! I ended up graduating from an STNA program with my GED and immediately applied to Cuyahoga Community College where I am currently enrolled in the Radiography program. I know I want to be in healthcare, and I think growing up Amish is a big reason why. When we are at our best, we are an extremely caring and gentle community, and I hope to carry that with me as I find my way through life. I was at dinner with a friend recently and she was telling me things she remembered from our younger days. For our kindergarten graduation, we all had to go on stage and announce to the audience what we wanted to be when we grew up. Apparently, a 6-year-old little Amish girl went up and said that she wanted to be a doctor to the amusement of the crowd. I still want to be a doctor someday, and while I know it’s a long shot, I also know that it’s not impossible. Education to me is the realization of almost 20 years of dreaming. It is the chance for a different future, and the hope of a life of service and dedication to improving not just my life, but my community’s as well.

From Anna Mae’s essay, you can understand how very rewarding it is for those of us at ADSF to lend monetary and moral support to a bright young student like Anna Mae who is daring to take risks if it means following her interests and dreams. If you want to contribute to our efforts, we invite you to visit our Donate page. We thank you in advance for any support you offer.

Anna will happily respond to any questions or comments you leave below.