What is a better representation of resilience than a flower? Which can be stepped on, picked out of the ground, watered down and still continue to grace the world with its beauty. “Flowers grow back after they are stepped on, so will I.” This quote I stumbled upon one lonely day in my bedroom on Pinterest was largely the inspiration I had for creating this summer ‘zine. When I was at the lowest point in my life, the thought of this saved me. The thought that I – like a
flower – can grow up and out of unfavorable circumstances was like gospel. In creating the concept for this project, I had one word in mind: resilience. There is no better marker of the beauty of the human spirit than our ability to be resilient. I hope that readers will see “Where Flowers May Grow” as a beacon of light, hope and inspiration. I hope that the writers, photographers and artists included in this project know that they are so loved and valued by me for their vulnerability. I hope
that everyone knows they are capable of wonderful things no matter their environment. This project is for everyone who has ever had to grow back after being stepped on.
Grace Managing Editor of the Marquette Journal Cady Photo courtesy of Hope Moses hope.moses@marquette.eduExecutive Director Of The Marquette Wire
Hope Moses
Managing editor of the marquette journal
grace cady
Managing Editor of the Marquette Tribune
Megan Woolard
General Manager of Marquette University television
Nancy Flaherty
General Manager of Marquette University radio
Sam Baughn
Editor of Diversity & Inclusion
Phoebe Goebel
Content Coach
TJ Dysart
Copy Chief
Emily Reinhardt
Creative Design Chief
Erin Schneider
Designers
Kendal Bell, Reyna Galvez, Kimberly Cook
Photographers
Hope Moses, Sam Baughn, Jack Albright, Isabel Bonebrake
Executive News Editor
Sofia Tiedge
Executive A&E Editor
Sophie Goldstein
Executive Opinions Editor
Izzy Fonfara Drewel
Executive Projects Editor
Julia Abuzzahab
Executive Sports Editor
Jack Albright
Socials Chief
Emma Kroll
Writers
George Kane
TJ Dysart
Uzair Qhavi
Jack Albright
Sophie Goldstein
Izzy Fonfara Drewel
Grace Cady
MOPED
Hope Moses
“A Caribbean blue ‘Islander’ moped is parked under a bridGe in the city.”
SAM BAUGHN
“Man sells strings of flowers at the Pitchfork Music Festival”
“Colorful flowers for sale at a European street market.”
“The iconic Milwaukee Public Market on a hot summer day.”
“Worcester bravehearts baseball player takes a swing at a July game”
In 2018, on a beach in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, Alder Crocker jogged into the water, tripped, broke his neck and was rendered a quadriplegic. To his surprise, Crocker’s injury gave rise to a crop of new abilities completely foreign prior to the accident. And, while he remains a quadriplegic, now more importantly, he is a painter.
Crocker worked in marketing for 28 years and says that before the accident, he could barely draw stick
figures. But now, 60 years-old and residing in Fairfield, CT, he spends most days immersed in his artwork.
One and a half years after his injury, Crocker was introduced to the idea that he may have Acquired Savant Syndrome. According to him, Acquired Savant Syndrome is a rare phenomenon which can occur in individuals who have suffered traumatic brain/spinal injuries, leading to latent creative ability in areas such as math, music and
art. His realization was due to a conversation with David Marchi, a man who broke his own back and hands, had attained savant-esque artistic abilities.
Immediately after hitting the ground and breaking his neck, Crocker said he knew something was different.
“I had an explosion of color in my consciousness,” Crocker said. “It was a black background and there was this [green] circuit board, don’t know why. But, I believe that was actually my spine that my mind was processing. It was reds, and orange, and blue and yellow and whites, [that] just exploded like the most incredible fireworks you could imagine.”
Crocker said he discovered his new talents through art therapy at Kessler Rehab in New Jersey. As soon as he touched brush to canvas, he said his brain was flooded with a wave of colors and ideas. He recounted creating his art based almost entirely off of intuition, subconsciously visualizing the setting of the accident.
together in one specific way, made out of a subconscious order that only he could distinguish.
“When I look at my stuff, some of the stuff just moves around for me. It just moves. I can see the characters actually move around and where they should go,” Crocker said.
Since Crocker’s accident, new roadblocks have appeared. One of the most significant being his divorce in July 2021, which has forced him to adopt new changes in his life. He said that this has influenced his art, moving away from its previous spontaneity, and adopting a style which exhibits a more ordered chaos.
Crocker had found himself traversing an unknown landscape, but not one he wasn’t willing to navigate. In this time, he said his change in art-style reflected what was needed in the moment. Both consciously and subconsciously, he sought out painting as an emotional outlet, displaying his state of mind on the canvas.
“I had hidden, subconsciously, symbols that reflected where I was and what I wanted to have occur. There are a lot of symbols of strength and yin yang, unity and coming together,” Crocker said. “All of these were hopeful and looking for the future saying I can do this, without really even knowing it.”
“It was an explosion of color in my head. It was literally a color rush, I had ideas just flowing out of my head,” Crocker said. “And, it turns out, when I looked at that painting, a year or so later, it was what looked like waves. So, the first thing I painted was the ocean.”
Once out of his ten-week stint in rehab, Crocker said that returning home was difficult. He described his painting as a guide through this period of uncertainty, and said his work was an avenue for purpose that helped to make sense of his new life.
“I found absolute order in my chaos. It all made sense to me,” Crocker said. “Everything had a logical place and position in my paintings, both consciously and subconsciously.”
When referencing his work, Crocker juxtaposes order and chaos, relating the first years following his accident to a branch of mathematics called Chaos Theory. Crocker said Chaos Theory is the assumption that everything is connected, and that come disconnection, a change occurs. During this time period, he said all of his paintings came
Self-reliance has defined this current stage of Crocker’s life. Living alone, he hasn’t been able to look to anyone but himself for the strength he wants to set forth. He had to accept his present circumstances and use them as a jumping point, propelling to a better future.
“It’s been a change and a challenge, realizing, what can I do?” Crocker said.
These days, Crocker has become more and more focused on his legacy. He said he has no plans of letting life pass him by, and sees his paintings as something to give back to the world. His goal is to create art that will help people through hard times, just as it has helped him.
“Painting gave me value, worth and purpose in a way that I never thought I could possibly have,” Crocker said. “It enabled me to realize that my art will be my legacy. It will be something that will live after I die at some point. I thought about it, I [said], I don’t know if I had a legacy before that, other than being a good guy, having a good family, some nice kids. But, I wasn’t going to leave a footprint in the sands of time. And, now I believe I will."
It enabled me to realize that art will be my legacy .”
Alder Crocker
For 22 year-old Monica Luchez, Bastille Days means more to her than just a weekend at Cathedral Square Park.
“This is a festival based on culture and quite frankly it honors a city that not too many people from Wisconsin may be familiar with,” Luchez said.
Luchez’s mother immigrated to Milwaukee from France, and as a first generation American, Luchez said that having never been to France, she felt isolated.
“It was just tough you know because I was French but with such a bustling German community in Milwaukee, I felt like it was hard to find ways to really celebrate and even learn about my background,” Luchez said.
That is until Luchez attended last year’s Bastille Days which originated in the Milwaukee Cathedral Square Park in 1982.
She said that moment was when she realized what most people consider a weekend full of entertainment can also be a weekend of knowledge and wisdom.
“With all due respect, and I know we live in Wisconsin, but what people need to understand is that there is more to a festival than getting drunk and buying a French beret,” Luchez said.
After attending her second annual Bastille Days this past July, Luchez said that these events hold so much more history than most people think and that she hopes that after this year’s Bastille Days, people will try to motivate themselves to learn more about France's rich culture.
“It was my first ever introduction into my own roots,” Luchez said. “It just makes you think that even in the states, there are ways to immerse yourself in a number of different cultures and learn as much as you can about them.”
“It was amazing. I will never forget how many things I learned about French people in Wisconsin and more importantly ways to get involved,” Luchez said.
Milwaukee has over 25 festivals through the summer months, several of which highlight specific cultures and not only showcase authentic food and drinks, but also highlight the history of their culture in the United States.
After attending last year’s Bastille Days, Luchez said that she decided to take her first trip to France on a whim.
“It was one of those things where I thought ‘Monica, if you do not do this now, you will regret it for the rest of your life,’” Luchez said.
Luchez said she learned a lot during her time in
France, but what surprised her most was that to learn that Europeans do not typically ask for ice in their drinks. She also said that she learned more about the rich history of fashion in France.
She also said that she met people from France who she was able to share conversation with explaining what Bastille Days was.
"I will never forget I met this man who was from France who had been to Bastille Days in Milwaukee," Luchez said.
If it was not for her immersion in 2022's Bastille Days, she would not have ever had the courage and guts to travel to the country,
“I was this 20 year-old kid (at the time) with 40 euros in my pocket just trying to explore, but it was such a full circle moment that I never would have thought I would be going there had I not gotten the basic education of what it meant to be French here in Milwaukee,” Luchez said.
Luchez said she was nervous to travel to France without any prior knowledge to her culture and that she never expected Milwaukee to be where she kick started her knowledge on her home country.
Now, back home in Milwaukee, working and living with her boyfriend and two dogs, Luchez said that she'll never miss another Bastille Days weekend.
"I literally drive my family crazy because once July rolls around I can't shut up about going and I actually am hoping to get my mom and dad to come out with me next year," Luchez said.
Luchez said that she also visits many cultural festivals in Milwaukee because she appreciates the opportunity to learn.
Currently Listening “Eyes of the world” - The Grateful Dead To Be Read
‘All over creation’ by Ruth Ozeki
In the heart of Palestine, where the sound of cars honking persists and echoes of tragedy linger, Abd-Alrahman Musaitif found his purpose amidst the chaos.
“Growing up in
Palestine during my early years, I saw the impact that the conflict had on people,” Musaitif said. “From the land my family resided within for decades being stolen to seeing the constant young lives lost due to the occupational forces.”
Since 1948, the Palestinian-Israeli conflict has remained a dispute, entwining historical and religious ties between Palestine and Israel. Despite various attempts to reach a resolution, a lasting peace agreement has remained elusive.
The turning point for Musaitif happened when he witnessed the impact of a bombing near his hometown when he was young.
“The moment where I felt shaken up was when I saw the impact that people had medically gushing wounds
and the long-term effects they were dealt with,” Musaitif said. Some of his close friends were among those impacted by the bombing, and that experience ignited a desire within him to make a difference. He realized that the destruction he witnessed went beyond physical harm — it left lasting scars on memories and hope.
people got the help they needed and that they were healthy going forward.”
Musaitif said that many of the people impacted did not only have obvious wounds, but they suffered heart issues as well.
He said that one of the things that stood out to him was the hit on oral hygiene and the effects it had on things such as cardiac health. The American Heart Association has stated that caring for oral health helps to decrease cardiovascular disease.
“I saw the impact at hand and how it had affected the ones I loved,” Musaitif said. “I felt lucky that I had not been impacted physically, but also recognized that I could have easily been in their same situation had I not been lucky.”
Musaitif said that, in the moment, he needed to do some type of good and help the world with what he felt was his “second chance.”
“When I saw the impact, I was devastated, but I was also inspired. The community came together, whether that be to provide medical care or to just help clean up the rubble from the explosion,” Musaitif said. “For me, the real inspiration was when I saw the medical workers get to work. Over the coming weeks, they made sure
“Witnessing the reality of limited dental hygiene due to people focusing on just trying to survive was astonishing to me,” Musaitif said. “Over time this neglect, which was not out of carelessness, but survival, led to bigger issues when it came to their health.”
Years later, he moved to America, where he held on to this desire to bring about change.
“I wanted to use my second chance to do something good for the world and help to make the country
that I loved [Palestine] have someone there to make bring about some sort of lasting impact on the people’s lives,” Musaitif said.
Fueled by this desire, Musaitif entered college with one intention: to bring about a lasting change to those troubled with tragedy.
“I knew I wanted to do something but was not fully set on what that entailed. It wasn’t until I looked back at what truly inspired me, which was oral hygiene, that I decided to go work in a dental clinic,” Musaitif said.
There he saw the realities of why oral health matters and why it is needed to live a healthy life.
step closer to making the impact I’ve dreamt of,” Musaitif exclaimed. “Entering dental school is not just about fulfilling a personal dream, but it’s also a crucial step towards my goal of making a positive impact on the lives of others.”
Musaitif’s vision extends beyond his education. After dental school, he hopes to provide dental care to those facing hardship and underserved communities. Moreover, he aims to raise awareness about the limited dental care situation in Palestine and establish clinics in the United States that offer affordable care to the less fortunate.
“I want to be a beacon of hope for people who have faced hardship like I witnessed,” Musaitif asserted. “I want to be the one to bring a smile back to their faces and offer them hope for a brighter future.”
to be read
‘The
“Dental care is about more than just fixing teeth,” Musaitif explained.
“It’s about improving the overall well-being of individuals and empowering them to lead fulfilling lives.”
With this inspiration lingering in his heart and the echoes of the past, he applied to dental school in 2022.
Musaitif said he had expected challenges in the way, but knew they would pay off, which they did. In May 2023, he received admission to the University of Detroit Mercy Dental School.
“I was elated because I thought that maybe I would have to start again in the next cycle like so many other applicants. In that moment, I felt one
There he saw the realities of why oral health matters...”
Uzair QhaviCurrently listening to “Long Promised Road” by The Beach Boys
Tears filled my eyes as I sat in my dorm room all alone. I felt like every day took an eternity with no possible way I could make it through another semester. A whole 112 days wishing I never chose this school, hoping I would wake up at home and wondering how I could ever do this.
It was as if smoke filled my body and I couldn’t take a deep breath.
The school year started out fine; I was at Indiana University, I had freedom and I was ready to have this movie-esque experience. Quickly I realized the movies didn’t show everything: the constant homesick feeling, being scared of putting yourself out there and seeing people posting on social media not knowing if they are actually having fun or just drowning in the same feelings.
It was already clear in my mind that I was transferring schools, but the bigger question was where?
I knew I needed somewhere that was close to home, I wasn’t going to go through the same thing again. I needed somewhere where I could be the best version of myself; I had to let myself grow.
March 19 is a day that forever changed my life; the day the world planted a seed for me. I decided I was transferring to Marquette University.
I never envisioned myself going to Marquette, but, I quickly learned that it was the place for me. It was a place where I wasn’t just seen as another number or statistic, but as a person with real dreams and goals. A place where I was close to home, but could spread my wings. I found myself looking forward to this next stage in my life and having courage to believe that Marquette will let me grow into the person I know I can be.
It was around Thanksgiving break when I suddenly realized college was going to be a lot harder than I thought. I had just spent an entire week back in my hometown, with my family and all of my friends; nothing could have been better. As the days were coming closer and closer to when I had to leave, the pit in my stomach grew even more. I didn’t want to leave, I couldn’t.
I wanted nothing more than this year to be done.
After a dreaded four-hour car ride back to school, I looked in the mirror and saw swollen, red eyes. I thought the feeling would leave me, but it only grew the more I realized how much longer I had here. I wanted to leave; I couldn’t stay.
Winter break was harder.
I was myself when I was home. Until the thought of having to go back to the place I dreaded the most flooded my mind. The feeling of being trapped was growing even stronger and I felt the phantom smoke in my body take over.
I had never felt more embarrassed that I was struggling.
I am still nervous to start this new journey of my life, but I know that everything I went through last year has allowed me to get to this point. Once all the smoke cleared, and I planted a new seed for myself, I opened my eyes to a world that can be brighter and filled with flowers with this beautiful opportunity the world has given me at Marquette University.
Currently Listening: "You're On Your own, kid" by Taylor swift
To be read: ‘this is not a personal statement’ by tracey badua
It was as if smoke filled my body and i couldn’t take a deep breath.”
Sophie Goldstein
WHERE FLOWERS MAY GROW
WHERE FLOWERS MAY GROW every Rose has Its Thorn
I grew up in Nebraska and, no, I did not live on a farm. I lived in a suburb. I drove to school, walked my dog through the park and lived under Friday night lights, just like every other kid in high school. But unlike most of them, I got out. At least that was how I phrased it.
I got out, went to another school, in another state and started a new chapter. Eight hours away from home, I moved into a tiny dorm, knowing no one, but I was excited.
The excitement only lasted for a month and a half. Moving away from everyone and everything I had ever known was terrifying. Who was I supposed to talk to about my experiences?
All my high school friends were at our state school. They didn’t understand or know what I was going through. In my mind, they were living a “high school part-two” and I had moved on.
During this time, I was struggling with my living situation. Not being able to come back to a place where I felt safe and comfortable took a toll on my well-being.
I wasn’t sleeping, was barely eating and with no one to talk to, I was drowning. I wanted to catch up with friends and hear what they were doing, but I think we outgrew each other. We were great friends at one point, but then we became merely hometown connections that meet up for coffee twice a year.
As I wrestled with existing outside my childhood home, there was a surge in my anxiety. During the pandemic, I experienced really bad anxiety and it was rearing its head again.
I had a growing interest in journalism and because of everything that was happening, I paid more attention to the news. It sent me into a spiral. The constant stream of information was bombarding my mind. My path into journalism was incredible, it’s what I wanted to do but it got to be too much.
At the time it felt like everything was going wrong and the world was ending. The combination of negative news and my far-from-positive mindset was pushing me to the edge. There were times I had anxiety attacks so intense I couldn’t go to class.
The only person who ever fully knew what was happening was my mom. I called her every day and told her every horrible thing that was happening in my life. Everything was going wrong and this wonderful new college life I thought I would have was crumbling.
I told my mom once, “I don’t want to be here anymore,” and she replied, “Here as in school, or here as in Earth?” I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know the answer.
After this, I met with my therapist again and began keeping a journal. Writing saved me.
My therapist also pushed me to look into other housing.
Once I started searching, I’m convinced some higher power intervened. Call it what you want, divine intervention or karma or universal cosmic goodness, I found a new dorm that was, without my knowledge, directly across the hall from my college best friend.
And thank God that happened. She introduced me to her friends; we hung out and talked every day. Moving into that dorm gave me what I needed: a safe space, comfortability, a friend to confide in and a community I could trust.
I remembered why I left Nebraska: I had done everything, it was boring. Once I knew my friends better, we explored the city. New restaurants, food trucks and stores filled the weekends. We spent afternoons wandering the Third Ward, petting cute dogs and meandering the riverwalk to take photos.
Once my friends and I went to a farmer’s market and on our way back we got lost in the city. We were lost and I felt the anxiety there, but I learned how to push it away and live in the moment. Eventually, we found our way back and we still talk about the awesome food we had.
Sometimes I still get anxious and miss my home. It’s impossible not to. But now I have a support system. Two of my best friends are here for me, I have a journal to write in and, when all else fails, I can still call my mom. I’m eight hours away from Nebraska but I’m also eight minutes away from my best friend’s apartment and eight seconds away from a phone call with my mom.
Currently listening: “you’re gonna go far” By Noah Kahan to be read: ‘holding up the universe’ by jennifer niven
I can remember it so well that I almost choke on the memory sometimes.
I was driving through my hometown, it was a rainy day. I watched the beads of water race down my windshield; seemingly competing for which one could sink under the hood of my car first. I remember envying those raindrops. Wishing I could sink someplace where no one would find me.
As I made the turn around a curved road that overlooked the lake, the song changed. The words of “Smoke Signals” by Phoebe Bridgers began playing. The song filled my car, filled my heart. I played it again and again.
There was one line in particular that made my breath hitch. “I buried a hatchet, it’s coming up lavender,” Bridgers sang solemnly.
angry for many months. Angry at the heartbreak I had endured. Angry that I had to carry the weight of it. Angry that I only led with the best of intentions and was left in ruins as if I somehow deserved that kind of ending.
It may sound trivial or dramatic that a fleeting moment like this could change the course of my thought process. I know how it reads that one song, a couple lyrics and a car ride really made a change for me, but they did.
The beautiful thing about music is that by nature it is interpretive. The artist’s intentions marry with the emotional precursor of whoever is listening and the whole song becomes like a watercolor painting; mixing two people’s pain, their joy, their perspectives and creating something really lovely.
The verse is followed up by “The future’s unwritten, the rest is a corridor,” and when I heard this it was as if my heart sank into my stomach and then came back up to its surface.
Sometimes I have felt so stuck in the past it’s almost as if I live there. As if I am not a resident in the present day. As if I’m some kind of martyr who needs to die by my memories over and over just to prove I can still bleed for them.
And hearing the pair of these two lines together created some kind of space for me to stop and think.
I am not a hateful person, it takes so much for me to be angry, but before this day I had felt so
I wanted to bury a hatchet that came up lavender. I didn’t want to forgive and forget, but I wanted to make something beautiful out of the bad that I endured. And more than anything, I didn’t want to carry the heaviness in my heart that constantly felt like a punishment for a crime I didn’t commit.
I didn’t want to live in the past nor did I want to be confined to a corridor. I wanted to see the future that was unwritten, I wanted to write it.
So here I am doing just that.
Once I felt the weight lift off of my shoulders and gained the strength to embrace the rest of my life with open arms, I fell in love again. I fell in love with the world, with sunshine rather than rain, with the way a melody can dictate how you move through your days.
I buried a hatchet, and it came up lavender. Now I will write the rest of my life.
I didn’t want to forgive and forget, but i wanted to make something beautiful out of the bad that i endured .” grace cady
currently listening:
“graceland too” by phoebe bridgers
to be read:
‘OUT of love’ by hazel hayes
WHERE FLOWERS MAY GROW
As Marquette women’s lacrosse was in the midst of a hotly contested bout at Northwestern Feb. 14, 2022, then-junior attacker Hannah Greving went to make a cut towards the net.
She planted her feet, twisted her body and got ready to give the Golden Eagles a much-needed goal. But instead, Greving heard a crack and pop and fell to the ground.
She tore her left ACL, sprained her MCL and suffered a bone bruise.
“I was in denial, especially a couple days after because I just know how horrible this whole ACL injury is and I just remember it hurting a lot,” Greving said. “I was just shocked because you never think it’s gonna happen to you until it does.”
After this, she could have quit — few would have blamed her.
Afterall, it wasn’t a “clean injury.” It was a grade 3 ACL tear with a minimum nine-month recovery. It was an MCL sprain that made the knee impossible to bend. It was a bone bruise that swelled so much the surgery was delayed by two months. It was an injury that could have signaled the end of her lacrosse career.
But Greving made sure this setback wasn’t the final chapter of her story.
She said that after dealing with the COVID-19 pandemic her first and second seasons and then an injury as a junior, all she wanted was a normal year. But first, she had to heal.
The recovery was anything but seamless, and head coach Meredith Black said they had to take steps back because of how Grevin’s body responded.
“That was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” Greving said about the recovery process. “It was just hard to see what was going to happen next because I just wanted to get back to playing.”
By the time summer rolled around,
Greving could bend her knee again, and she started walking, which she said was when she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Even though Greving was unable to participate in practices and games, she still made sure her presence was felt at team events. She went to every home game and would spend time on the sidelines helping some of the younger players.
“I was just keeping in mind that my teammates would be here for me, so I want to be here for them,” Greving said. “The main thing is that even though I can’t play, just still
Greving’s roommate Emma Soccodato said. “Me and her would talk about it, text about it, see what to say. It was just fun to keep her involved.”
Prior to the start of her senior season, 10 months after her injury occurred, Greving was told by the team trainers and doctors that she should manage her expectations about playing in the season opener and it may take a month into the year for her to be game-ready.
And Greving’s response to this news?
“Hannah was like, ‘Absolutely not, I’m playing,’” Black said.
Greving was right. She made an appearance in Marquette’s season opening win against San Diego State Feb. 12 and scored a goal. It had been 363 days since she’d last played in blue and gold.
When Greving stepped onto the field for the first time in nearly a year, she felt a whirlwind of emotions.
“Even doing the simplest cut makes you nervous and I just had to trust my recovery process that it was all going to be okay,” Greving said.
And this past season was not Greving’s last either. She will be returning for her fifth and final year of college eligibility after a historic season for both her and the Golden Eagles.
Now fully healed, Greving has a newfound appreciation for both the sport of lacrosse and the experiences of injured teammates and rivals alike.
being visible and being a voice and helping out the other players was really something that I could lean into because I couldn’t be there (playing) myself.”
Black said that while she improved her passing by playing wall-ball, she made the most strides in her leadership abilities.
“(The injury) forced her to move outside her comfort zone in a leadership manner and really helped coach the team and be a teammate from a sideline perspective,” Black said. “She was less of a cheerleader, more of a true coach in that sense, which is a great role.”
Even when she wasn’t physically there, Greving made sure the team knew she was supporting them by calling into team meetings and texting with teammates to come up with pre-game chants.
“We do this certain cheer where Hannah comes up with something funny to say before every single game, and when she went down and wasn’t at away games, I took that role on to say the funny thing,” senior attacker and
“It made me appreciate the sport so much more and I could understand and appreciate every other injured athlete (and) what they have gone through,” Greving said. “I was just more grateful every single time that I stepped on that field again, just because I hadn’t been able to do it for so long.”
Still being visible and being a voice and helping out the other players was really something that i could lean into because i couldn’t be there (playing) myself.” hannah greving
Photo Submission Sophie Goldstein
Buds of Creativity Blossom Here Click for More!
"ribbons" mixed media sophia cortes
