Danielle Lacasse plays middle field in the University of Texas at Tyler’s Women’s Soccer team. She is a senior student in the pre-med program where she will be graduating in Spring 2021.

Lacasse joined the soccer team in her first year of college. She was recruited and invited to UT Tyler after she was scouted in one of her high school games in Austin, Texas. She did not want to apply to UT Tyler, but her father insisted.

“I kinda thought East Texas was gonna be a lot like West Texas where it’s like flat and not very pretty,” Lacasse said.

Once Lacasse visited UT Tyler’s campus, she changed her mind and decided that maybe it was not so bad to attend. When she explored into the athletics department and the soccer program, she realized that this school would do much more than give her a degree. It would make her into someone better than an achieved alumnus.

“I felt like I would get more out of it than just playing soccer, and I have.” Lacasse said.

​At the time, Lacasse had the opportunity to personally meet the coaches and the players. The advice given to her was what made her decide to stay and attend UT Tyler’s soccer team.

“That was my big moment… and you could tell that from their freshman year to their senior year you’re gonna grow. You’re gonna become more than just a soccer player. You’re gonna become an amazing woman.” Lacasse said.

The journey of becoming the person she is today has taken a great change in her work ethics. For four years, Lacasse has juggled being an athlete and a regular student. She said that it was hard adjust and time manage schoolwork with traveling to soccer matches to other colleges. She remembers staying in the library for hours before packing for the next game. There were times where she watched other students experience college parties and hangouts while she forced herself to muddle through her homework.

“It was difficult… I have to wake up at 5 a.m. for workout and its like I can’t. I can’t be a normal student, and I can’t have the free time that everybody else has… I was taking 6-hour labs my freshman and sophomore year.” Lacasse said.

In 2018, UT Tyler joined Division 2 of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) where many athletes could receive scholarships due to UT Tyler’s enrollment statistics. Because UT Tyler had a high percentage of incoming freshman, the school athletic program also got promoted to Division 2. Lacasse said she struggled to transition from Division 3 to Division 2.

“We are on probationary years for three years. So, I found out my freshman year I committed to a D3 school … but that means you can’t win a national championship for three years.” Lacasse said.

According to ncaa.org, school institutions must go through a three-year provisional period where student athletes are given time to improve academically and physically. The process includes the re-classification from Division 3 to Division 2.

Lacasse claims many athletes retired from different athletic departments because they did not want to stay during the transition. Despite scholarships firstly introduced into the program, not a lot of students wanted to stay without winning any distinguished games.

“At first, I was kind of upset because, you know, you commit to play college soccer and you want to win. Like that’s what you wanna do. You want to win the big tournament. Everybody loves competing.” Lacasse said.

When the COVID-19 pandemic began earlier this year, Lacasse said they were given more time to practice and improve on their personal skills. There weren’t many games to attend, but with her graduation nearing close, she wouldn’t be able to win a game as an enrolled student.

“After our coach brought us in, she was like okay, yes it sucks, but here’s the facts. You’re building a program. You’re still gonna grow. You’re still going to get games. Your mindset isn’t necessarily winning the national championship. It’s how I’m gonna make the person behind me better.” Lacasse said.

Due to social distancing restrictions, Lacasse spent most of her time studying for the Medical College Admission Test (MCAT), which is an exam that access medical students’ skills for medical school. She said that she took the last of the MCAT before it was shut down for two months. During the eight-hour test, Lacasse was disturbed by cleaning staff sanitizing her computer and materials.

“It was just terrible because I didn’t score as well as I should have.” Lacasse said.

She still applied for medical school and attended online interviews. She attended class online and struggled a lot in her labs. Lacasse said that her microbiology professor tried their best in describing physical labs virtually. It wasn’t much, but she continued to study.

“I actually got accepted into a Doctors of Osteopathic Medicine School at Auburn.” Lacasse said.

Her future career does not involve her soccer endeavors. Lacasse said that soccer was just a stress-reliever where she could exercise and improve academically because it forced her to time manage efficiently. Her passion for medicine goes hand-in-hand with the sports ethic she learned as a soccer player. She will also join the military for financial stability, and hopefully become a doctor one day.

“I shadowed so many different doctors that I just love learning different things. So, I don’t know what exactly my path will be.” Lacasse said.

Her future plans do not involve staying as an athlete. Lacasse has taken many things from soccer into her passion for medicine.

December 2020

Video Interview Version

The apartment was cold. A temperature of 60 degrees Fahrenheit made my nose numb despite wearing two layers of thick clothing. Dana Eriksen lived in a cozy apartment with her boyfriend. The place had a nice mix of decoration ranging from nice, grey couches with pretty pillows to a surprisingly organized collection of movies and PlayStation games. A sharp smell filled the living room along with the sound of metal hitting the counters. She quickly informed that dinner would be ready soon.

Eriksen said her meetings with licensed counselors in Tyler aren’t the greatest. She said her struggles with depression and anxiety date back to 2010, and today she does not see anyone or attend counseling. One of her first impressions did not help on how to cope with her situation.

“On paper, [the counselor] seemed good, but in reality, she wasn’t,” Eriksen said as she moved around the kitchen. She pressed down a metal circle onto a mass, making round cylinders of dough. As she puts a batch inside the oven, she busied her hands with the next meal and her story.

Eriksen said her counselor at the time consistently arrived late to appointments and advised superficial techniques for anxiety attacks. For depression, the counselor recommended journaling, a technique used for self-awareness and problem-solving. She said it only harmed her mental health.

Tyler lacks resources for treating mental health issues. Compared to big cities and highly populated areas, East Texas has a stigma of mental health resources. The options are limited on a Google search.

“My first step was looking around the community and not being very pleased with the results.” Lacy Mixon, a freshman at UT Tyler, said.

Mixon had just left the Counseling Center at UT Tyler. Her hands intertwined together in front of her while she shifted on her seat. Her dark red hair rested on her shoulders, and she had dark-rimmed glasses on her nose, subconsciously pushing them up from time to time. She fiddled with her fingers as she explained that her search for a therapist outside campus wasn’t successful.

“The people [in the Counseling Center at UT Tyler] are really sweet and there to help…They’re not there because of their job and they just have to listen to you talk. They’re actually wanting to know your story, know who you are, why are you feeling this way, know your background…” Mixon’s hands moved for each point she expressed on the help she was receiving. Her eyes lit up as she said that it was easier to pick herself up whenever she felt down. She felt lucky that the university provided this option to students in need of counseling.

But even if students take advantage of the Counseling Center, not many solutions are available for others seeking it off campus.

Kristie Allen, the graduate admissions advisor for the Department of Psychology and Counseling, sat across a green studio with her left leg on top of her right. Her hands rested on her knee as she expressed the issue in mental health care in the city of Tyler.

“…In our region, it’s a well-known fact that we’re severely underserved when it comes to mental health counselors,” Allen explained.

Her posture screamed professional with her grey suit jacket and black heels. Her direct responses weren’t hesitant nor lacking. Her high shoulders and clear voice spewed confidence into the room. She did not miss a beat in saying what can be done to fix this issue.

“We are producing qualified, competent health care professionals [at UT Tyler]... Hopefully, we’re working towards a tomorrow that destigmatizes that idea of looking for extra health,” Allen said proudly.

Mental health care may be scarce today, but seeking professional help isn’t the only alternative. The fight against destigmatizing mental health doesn’t have to start there.

“Don’t be afraid to let those close to you know that you need help,” Dana Eriksen said as she prepared the plates, pouring delicious pot pie in bowls, “…Opening up and communicating with people…will probably be the first step to get better.”

She ate her dinner with her partner at her side, leading the conversation with jokes and showing off her cat. Eriksen showed her small pleasures in life. Her books, a collection of Harry Potter artifacts, and most importantly, her love for baking and cooking.

January 2020

Senia is a hard name to pronounce. I’m constantly correcting and coaching strangers on how to join two vowels together. I’ve repeated the sounds more than three times, and once I’ve seen their confused brows and pinched frowns, I give up and say, “Just call me Sen.”

Other people of color might see the nickname as a defeat because an ethnic name should be enforced as much as American names, but I believe that wasting time on cultural pronunciation is worse than showing what you’re capable of. If I present myself as a competent and intelligent person, those strangers will start pronouncing my name properly without me directing them how.

So, call me Sen for now. I don’t mind. My friends have taken a fond attachment to it.

Poetry has a similar predicament as mine. Research papers and analyses have specific standards. You must aby to the format and pronounce them correctly, but poetry does not. Not exactly. 

I have difficulty letting go of those strict reigns. High school and core classes in college teach students that professionalism is as important as getting a job. Writing competency defines a person’s capability.

Just like I’ve refused to be defined by my culturalism and Americanism, Poetry is an individual art that defines itself. Poets do not disrespect the form of poetry. They learn to make their signatures with it.

Yes, I am ethnic. Yes, I am American. I am both.

Poetry is the art of creative writing and formatting. Every word and small detail have meaning. A reader cannot disregard one or the other. A poet enthusiast recognizes both.

On another note, this project will reveal my journey of breaking away from these strict writing laws and learning how to express my inner issues. It was a bumpy road where fallen trees and huge boulders stood on my way. I lifted these heavy objects and sometimes broke my back relocating them to better spots. Poetry helped me faced those obstacles that kept getting in my way.

My issues do not focus on identity. My poems describe my issues with anxiety and depression. I’ve made these mental health issues my friends. I’ve used them the same way they use me. I’ve relied on and cried and smiled and dreamt with them. We were best friends.

Unfortunately, this relationship proved to be toxic. I knew they were toxic. No matter how I tried to defend them and get over them, I still was stuck with them on the road. They didn’t help me climb the fallen trees nor move those boulders. They became the bystanders of my misery.

I’ve reached a point in my journey where I’ve realized that these friends were the ones putting those obstacles on my road. Today, I mourn them. I’ve left them behind. I’m sad because despite being bad friends, they were my only consolation on my darkest paths. I know who I define myself as. I’m confident to say I’m a successful first-generation, senior undergraduate. I will not let anxiety and depression define me.

Fall 2020

Rain falls heavily on the stained glass.

The urge to scratch away the color it reflects,

becomes strong enough to peel off.

Drops quickly race down to the bottom of the frame,

where it pools small rivers of torment,

for being stained red instead of plain.

2018

I saw a dark cloud shed stinging pain

They glided down her bare skin,

pampering sunken cheeks

Every time air sucked into the storm,

a high pitch cry lit up the sky

Behind the nimbus mass,

my heart ached to will it away,

and take her place instead

2018

Te enseñe. Te ayude. Te lleve a tus citas de doctor. Te recogí de los hospitales. Me quede contigo cuando te dieron el tratamiento de la chemo. Te expliqué lo que no entendías. Te di fuerzas para que siguieras estudiando. Te dije que todo iba a estar bien cuando te sentias mal. 

Igualmente me criastes y me cambiaste de ropa y me cocinabas y me contabas de tus tiempos de juventud y me regañabas cada rato. Llegastes a los 70 y aguantastes tanto dolor y miedo. Ya sabias que el fin estaba cerca. Yo te queria mucho, abuelita. Gracias por todo lo que me diste. Tus esfuerzos no eran en vano. Viviste una vida completa. Espero que por fin te juntes con mi abuelo y se acompañen en los cielos de la mano. Ya sufristes demasiado. Descansa en paz, abuelita.

April 2024

Tonight hosted a half moon. 

Winter had settled in, and its chill traveled to my shaking bones. My face felt like a block of flesh, poking out into the air like a radio tower. My nose sought warmth from my curling hands where my mouth tried giving heat. 

Breathing felt like snow rushed in and slashed your nostrils with tiny shards of ice. The night was a sheer blanket of stars and left over clouds. 

I felt free and my eyes watered. Not because of winter. Because I was able to stand outside, alone, and happy with my friend, the moon.

October 2020

I sat on the new chair. Its white leather squeaked under my weight. It’s an upgrade from the black one I used to swivel on. 

I used to sigh as I dragged my feet towards it. The thought of going back to that old desk brought a storm under the blue sky. The color began to sag then. Its bright glare dripped off the day, and a gray scale had slowly taken over.

Just how things started to change, some part of me did as well. The sun I bathed in the summer faded back to sickly pale. My hair grew to the middle of my back, tangled as I stop caring for it. When I looked up, the absence of blue made me feel under the weather. When the storms marched in, I relished the feeling of cold rain. 

I hate change, but I realized I needed it.

How ironic that my life went from black to white. From great to worse. I’m back to the tile I surpassed. The piece of slab that made me hate the square. 

One hand still holds mine. Rather I’m desperately waiting for the reassuring squeeze.

The nightmares make sleepless nights a common occurrence. Dreaming of drowning in clear water is worse than not being able to see. I see the shadow that drags me under. I see my struggle to move. I can’t move.

The warm tone of the leather only reminds me of how I want to become the color black again.

November 2018