Ava Kitchens

My parents met underwater, breathing through regulators and discreetly gathering seashells from the seafloor. At the time, they weren’t aware of their future marriage or the arrival of their two kids. They were simply doing something they loved. After my brother and I were born, it was obvious that we’d also become scuba diving certified. The feeling of breathing underwater was so foreign that I didn’t think I was capable. When my instructor told me to take my mask off while underwater, I panicked. However, I have become accustomed to the unusual feeling.

While the routine of breathing underwater became easier to grasp, my seasickness did not. During a trip to the Cayman Islands, we were ushered onto a 30ft craft. When we passed the breakers, the waves violently threw us against the air tanks, leaving my stomach restless. Along with the seasickness, the idea of my equipment failing did not occur to me. On a trip to Cozumel, Mexico, I made my way to the edge of the stern and fell forward, entering the water. My regulator broke and I was taking in mouthfuls of water as the waves lapped over me. Fortunately, the problem was fixed by a dive master who jumped in and replaced my equipment.

Even with the seasickness and the regulator mishap, I still go back to the water. My passion and curiosity for marine life has always overtaken my anxiety. The first time I saw a shark, while terrifying, I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I remember watching an eagle ray flapping its wings against the seafloor, never losing sight of it’s destination. My love for the ocean is what will drive my career path. I am determined to stay with my fins planted on sand and my head underwater.