G.H. DePriest Memorial Scholarship

During my Sophomore year, I became interested in learning about the human mind and why we do certain things. It was during the peak of the pandemic and my family had lost too many people, to health and mental battles. My mental health started to decline without me even realizing it. I became irritable and tired, I lost my appetite, and my enthusiastic views about life disappeared. I didn’t want to believe that I was depressed, mainly because of the stigma it has in the Black community. I was scared that if I mentioned it, I wouldn’t get taken seriously since my life was “good” and I “had nothing to be sad about”. I believed it too. I thought there were more important things to worry about than how I felt and that it was just a phase. The gloomy feeling of uncertainty stayed with me for a long time, but after suppressing it, I finally decided to take my mental health seriously. I started researching depression and read stories about people who felt the same way I did. I wanted to know if they “cured” themselves of it and how I could do the same. However, I slowly realized that depression isn’t some curable disease. It’s a mental health issue that can’t be fixed with a snap of a finger. It takes time. You have to be willing to get better. I changed my diet, journaled, wrote stories, and used distractions like dance, work, and anime in hopes of bettering myself. I did everything but the one thing that might’ve helped me improve. See a therapist. I’ve since gotten the courage to mention it to my parents, but to no surprise, they doubted I needed one because I seemed happy and had everything I wanted. Getting better on my own was the best option. As I worked on myself, my interest in Psychology grew. I transferred to a new school and took the Psychology course they have. By the end of my Junior year, I knew I wanted to study it in college. I aspire to use my experience with mental health and the knowledge I have and will continue to gain, to help people. Especially young Black teens who might go through the same thing I did. Becoming a therapist is the best way that I can do that. Dance was the most effective form of healing for me. When I dance, it feels like I’m in a different world where it’s just me and the music. If my body wasn’t sore, I could dance for hours. I had my happiest years when I was on that dance team. Dance has helped me remain positive in one of the darkest times of my life. I danced to distract myself. Dance gave me the freedom to express how I felt through my movement. It was therapeutic for me to use my body to release my feelings and emotions. I can’t ever see myself getting tired of dancing. Even though I’m not on a team now, I still find ways to do it. I participate in Zumba and have virtual dance parties with my sister. I intend to bring my passion to college with me. Maybe I’ll host my own Zumba class or be the coach of a dance team. I could even incorporate it into my psychology career and offer dance therapy. I like the idea of using something that helped me in a time of need to help others. Being able to incorporate something I love into my everyday life is what makes dance so meaningful to me.