High school is arguably one of the most challenging times in a person’s life. It is a period of maturing, discovering our interests, and figuring out who we truly are. Through my own journey, I realized something about myself: I am, at heart, a rabbit.

Rabbits are often seen as prey animals, but getting to know my pet rabbit, Tulip, showed me something different. Though naturally independent, rabbits need companionship to truly thrive. A bonded partner helps them feel calmer, engage in healthy behaviors, and even care for areas they cannot reach on their own, such as the top of their head. Without that connection, they withdraw. With it, they thrive.

I think humans are not so different. Throughout high school, I have learned that the quietest people in the room are often some of the most remarkable; they just need someone willing to take the first step. That realization changed how I moved through my school and community. I began making it a point to sit with people who were alone, to learn the names of classmates that others overlooked, and to ensure that the people around me felt seen and heard. It is a small thing, but I believe it matters. Companionship, even in its simplest form, reminds people that their existence is meaningful.

Beyond friendship, I have tried to show up for my community in a more useful way. As a member of Key Club, I contributed to putting together hygiene kits for a local homeless shelter. Through my dance team, we collected over three boxes of non-perishable food for the Ronald McDonald House. I also donated sixteen pounds of dog food to the Three Little Pitties organization through my school’s National Technical Honor Society. Outside of this, I have accumulated over 110 community service hours, from assisting at elementary school events to spending time with residents at senior homes. Being active in these organizations taught me something new about what a community actually is, not just a place, but a network of people who show up for one another. Being part of a community reminds me that we are so similar to rabbits.

Tulip does not know she taught me any of this. She just wanted someone to groom the top of her head. But watching her go from withdrawn to calm made me understand that showing up for others does not have to be loud or large. A conversation with someone sitting alone, sixteen pounds of dog food, three boxes of food for a family far from home, I keep showing up in the small ways I can, because that is what it means to be part of something. Like Tulip, I think we all just need someone willing to take the first step.

Suheylee Belman
Nathan Lee Montez Jr. Memorial Scholarship Recipient, 2026

Editor’s note: The following essay is shared with permission as part of Blue Bee Project’s Young Voices series. Suheylee’s words are shared as written.