Where a Future Begins

By Cortney Crowell, Seton Hall University BSW Class of 2026

Have you ever believed that your purpose was limited? Have you ever struggled to create long-term goals due to a lack of hope? Regardless of your answers, you’re not alone. As a freshman in college studying Social Work, I found these questions were incredibly prominent in my decision to study mental health and plan to become a social worker. We all have a story. We all have an experience in our lives that creates a seemingly permanent belief; one that restricts, limits, and depletes our own passions, goals and hopes.

Mental health has always been a sensitive subject for me, even as a kindergartner just trying to use glue sticks and paint numbers on a canvas. For as long as I can remember, I was afraid of people. Talking to others never came easy; the words never slipped from under my tongue without a long, careful, and planned out thought beforehand. Maintaining a friendship was nearly impossible for me. I remember lashing out at others for little to no reason or ignoring someone for weeks after they had made a small remark, comment, or action. Despite these challenges, I was able to manage and maintain good grades throughout the beginning of middle school. However, when my family moved towns, everything changed for me and the status of my mental health. I felt like a lost puppy with a nametag, but no owner. I developed a heightened level of anxiety that persisted for years, and still remains. I was sad all the time. I felt worthless and lacked the motivation to do anything. I didn’t realize how unhappy I was until sophomore year of High School, when I decided to get help.

Diagnoses are never easy to handle and when I first got mine, I was miserable. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. I was prescribed medications—multiple medications, in fact. My level of social interaction was very low. I sat silently on the benches in gym. I would leave class at intervals throughout the day to walk around the school. The school nurses knew my first, middle, and last name by heart. Relationships became harder to manage. My moods were never stable, my impulses were out of touch, and I struggled with my identity. I couldn’t even tell you my favorite color or what my hopes and dreams were because I didn’t know. I talked about these unsettling feelings with a therapist and then received an unofficial diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). This undocumented diagnosis soon became an official diagnosis, a label I’ve carried for about three years now. I began to take therapy more seriously than I ever have before. And soon I began to realize I enjoyed my sessions and I didn’t mind the intense and previously uncomfortable discussions.

I engaged intensively in self-study on mental health. I would do my research every day after school, creating document after document of my research and ideas. I fell in love with the idea of helping others. I developed a deep sense of empathy—both for those who were similar to me, and for those who were not. I began to discover key parts of my identity, and after years of therapy, I became aware of what I wanted to do with my future. I want to help others through the creation of a safe space for sharing and self-reflection. I want others to be excited about possibilities, not to fear who they are or could be, not to fear their capabilities, or shy away from their potential. I want to be like the social workers who helped me by working with me to learn healthy ways to cope with the problems that caused a decline in my mental health. I want to help others navigate and process the fears and complicated emotions that arise in everyday life.

My experience with BPD has been far from easy. BPD will always be a part of me. But I have grown and adapted. I learned to become more empathetic with others. I learned coming up with goals is difficult, but attainable. I learned hardship has loopholes. And I eventually found comfort in and came to accept my experiences with mental health issues. I found my true passion and discovered my future has no limitations. I plan to declare my major in Social Work and to eventually become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. I truly believe this is my purpose—to share my story and to help others share their own stories. I know one day, when I’m sitting in an office, opposite a client who reminds me of my teenage self, that every struggle will have been worth the effort.

My name is Emily Dalton and I am born and raised in Hoboken, New Jersey. I have lived my entire life (with the exception of my time as an undergrad at Rutgers University) in Hudson County. I am currently in my final year at the Rutgers School of Social Work (RUSSW) pursuing my MSW, focusing on Management and Policy. This past semester, my field placement through the RUSSW has been at the Hoboken Public Library. Having the opportunity to work at my childhood library has been life changing. It has enriched my experience as a social worker by allowing me to engage with my community on both the macro and micro level. Moreover, being able to work in this specific environment has allowed me to grow as an individual and understand the way systems impact communities.

A typical workday consists of case management, advocacy, and policy work. I meet with patrons during designated drop-in hours, both in the library and outside the library at local shelters and lunchtime ministries. I work primarily with unhoused folks, some of whom are residents at the local shelter. These patrons are often looking for assistance with SNAP applications, health insurance enrollment, and getting their state identification cards. My goal as the community service worker