Ladybugs to Elephants: How Freshmen Can Overcome Feeling Small in Their First Year

by Hailey Scheinman

There are a couple of long-running jokes about me being physically small. I’m not super short, but just enough for “How’s the weather down there?” There was only one time in middle school when I didn’t have to stand in the front row for the class picture. It was a savored, fleeting moment. Once, when I submitted an assignment in high school, my teacher accidentally gave me a different student’s feedback, writing that the response was “too short,” and my dad has used that line comically whenever he can. Multiple people within my current involvement at UCF have also adapted some version of this sentiment. But I embrace it proudly and laugh along with them, learning to love every bit of myself. When you first begin college, it’s easy to feel “small,” faced with new challenges, people, and big goals that first year. You may wonder if you’ll ever build up the confidence to become the person you want to be. I certainly felt that way. But I have realized that throughout my life, I have been able to do big things even when feeling small.

From a young age, I was a dedicated volunteer for the Epilepsy Foundation on behalf Hailey and her sister Livy are pictured as children, laughing together in a bed of purple flowers. They are wearing matching white outfits.of my twin sister, Livy. Livy has had epilepsy and cerebral palsy since birth. She had two brain surgeries before her 5th birthday. The need for funding for her therapies prompted me to help. What began as an auction of a couple of my paintings turned into an effort to help not just my sister, but also other local people and organizations in need of funding for disability-related issues. From the time I was 10 to 16, my family got involved with the National Epilepsy Foundation and started two initiatives that focused on involving kids in building epilepsy awareness, the first being a fundraiser called “Lemonade for Livy.” Later, I took on the volunteer role of president of the organization’s Kids Crew program, which showed kids across the country how to be supporters and advocates for those with epilepsy. My role allowed me to be the spokesperson for the program, often giving presentations, spreading the word, and helping run events. I told the members that anyone can change the world, no matter their age. I saw how this changed the kids’ mindsets, as they proudly shared their own stories and chose to pursue their own advocacy and fundraising efforts.

Upon entering high school,  the isolation of the COVID pandemic did a number on my confidence, as it did for many others. I spent so much of this time feeling lonely and anxious, like I wasn’t doing enough and had become stagnant. I feared change, watching the time until college tick away. Having been inside my house for so long, I wondered how I could possibly survive moving across the state to a brand-new place, surrounded by brand-new people. It seemed like an insurmountable change. I entered UCF with my head held high but my faith in myself somewhat low. I felt insignificant and directionless. But I carried on and made myself go to whatever events I had time for, tried talking to a few new people every week, and volunteered for causes I cared about. Presented with what seemed like a million opportunities, it felt like I was only taking a miniscule amount of them. But what I didn’t realize was that I was planting the seeds for a magnificent change down the line.

The  first major push I gave myself was to take a chance and apply to the Burnett Honors College’s Deans’ Leadership Council. When I was offered the position, I was proud but still doubtful of myself. It took some convincing, but I found that I was perfectly qualified to be there, and that a lot of the “figuring it out” comes from learning through experiences like these. I have loved my time on the council, working alongside passionate, funny, and hardworking people. In times of doubt my first year, I happened to see many ladybugs around campus. I wondered if this was a sign of good luck: that I should trust that everything would work out. It was as if their presence was saying that something small can eventually have an important meaning.

At the end of the Fall 2024 semester, I decided to run for Honors Congress’ Fundraising Director position. Although I mulled over if I was prepared for the position, this time I noticed I felt a special kind of excitement that I hadn’t felt while taking on other opportunities. I knew that in this role, I could put my creativity to the test and get back into the swing of charitable work. I found that now I really wanted to grow as a person more than I feared the work it would take to get there, and everything I had done leading up to this point had given me an unexpected sense of courage.  I presented my ideas for the position and was elected by the members of Honors Congress. It finally seemed like the work I had put in during my first year to build confidence, community, and momentum was really changing how I saw myself. I didn’t feel so small anymore.

As Fundraising Director, I have been able to strengthen my skills, friendships, and confidence in a way I had never believed I could. Nothing makes me happier than seeing members smiling at the events I planned and talking about the fun that they had. What started from attending my first Honors Congress event for tea and watercolor and meeting a few friendly people during one of my first weeks here turned into a source of initiative and excitement. I feel that I can now help other people find that lovely sense of belonging and community, too, and I’m excited to find where it will take me in the future.A selfie of Hailey behind the lecturer's desk in a classroom. On one side of the desk is a laptop with a screen reading "Toon Art Class." On the other side of the desk, a document camera displays pencil drawings of Disney cartoon characters.

I am especially proud of the outcome of my first event. My main goal as Fundraising Director has been to get members more engaged with the organizations we support, and I wanted to start off with something special. I held a paper flower making event to raise money for the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, an organization in Kenya that rescues and cares for orphaned elephants. It allows supporters to “adopt” an elephant to fund their care. At our event, we raised more than enough to support an elephant of our own. I selected a little one named Toto, and everyone quickly became endeared by videos and photos of him playing with a ball, scratching his tummy, and hugging his keeper with his trunk. I hope that our members now have a little more of a personalized idea of why conservation is so important. Our elephant, just two years old and rescued from starvation, has no idea how much of an impact he has made on students halfway across the world.

It’s no different than the effect we can have on others, even when we don’t notice. Your smile, jokes, style, creativity, neat quirks, or passion are noticed by someone. You are not invisible. I have found that I am most encouraged by feeling that I am building something in my life that matters. Building these things takes time and comes piece by piece, but no part of it has been without value. Above all, I know that I no longer feel small when I seek a community that allows me to be part of something bigger; I just needed to take the first leaps to get there. It may not seem like it at first, but you are on an amazing journey that adds so much to your life. You end up with what you create along the way. And you can do it. Soon, you will be able to spend your time at UCF with an enormous love for what you’re doing, the impact you are making, and the people you are doing it with. So start now!

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