Justin Burnell Memorial Scholarship

Dance is a very gendered sport. Men are expected to be strong and sharp with their movements, with lots of upper body strength that gives them the ability to lift someone and support their weight for a specific period of time. Women are expected to be very elegant-looking and flexible, with the core strength to balance for long periods of time. Upon being in dance as a young girl, these gendered expectations are pushed on you very young. I experience these stereotypes as I took dance classes very young. As young dancing girls, you are held to an expectation to look perfect. You hair must be long, your makeup must look the same, and you all must do the dance perfectly. Anything less than perfect, both in action and appearance, was not acceptable. I came out as queer and non-binary when I was a sophomore in high school, and it's a label I use that feels so right. Neither a boy or a girl. I stopped taking dance classes around that same time for a number of reasons, but one of the big ones was my gender identity. Because dance is such a gendered sport, I didn't feel comfortable being constantly misgendered and forced into feminine mannerisms. This was a very hard thing for me to realize as there's not many books or stories about being non-binary. And as someone who is a little more femme presenting, I didn't feel very represented. Writing has always been an escape for me. Journaling has always helped me, whether I'm ranting about how hard life is or if I'm just writing stories for fun. I can write stories and cast myself as a handsome knight saving a beautiful princess, or as this all-knowing ethereal being. I can also write about what I'm feeling in the moment, if I feel good in my body or if I'm having a bad gender dysphoria day. As I write, I often think about a younger me and how happy they would be reading the words I write now. That's why I have such a passion for writing. I want to be able to write about experiences and be the representation future queer kids need, because that would be something I would've wanted. Seeing yourself in something matters. After fitting in the gendered boxes of dance, it feels freeing to identify exactly who I am and still love the art of dance. Writing has helped in that in so many ways, and I know sharing my writing will help people everywhere. That's why I think I'm the perfect person for this scholarship. We need more queer people in spaces everywhere to remind everyone that it is more normal than it may be perceived. Especially queer young girls/women in dance, where it can be seen as weird to be a queer woman surrounded by women and dancing with them. I've had weird interactions where people have thought I "had a crush on them" because I must "have a crush on every girl". I didn't have anything to turn to during those weird and challenging times, because there wasn't anything. I wanna create something through words and storytelling so no young girl has to ever feel that awkwardness. I didn't have any older role models in dance, or in life in general. And if my writing and storytelling helps my younger queer self, imagine how many younger queer kids it would also help.

I used to think identity was something you were just supposed to know. Like everyone else, I got a piece of paper with the answers, and I was the only one still staring at a blank page. This first year of college changed that for me. Coming here gave me space. Space away from expectations. Space away from the version of myself I thought I had to be. In that space, I finally allowed myself to ask the questions I had been quietly carrying for years. I stopped pushing down the way my heart reacted to certain people. I stopped explaining away feelings that didn’t fit the mold I had grown up around. And slowly, gently, I realized I am a lesbian. That realization didn’t come with fireworks. It came with fear, relief, and grief all at once. Fear of how people might see me differently. Relief that I finally understood myself. Grief for the years I spent trying to be someone else. There were moments I felt isolated, especially when I felt like I didn’t fully fit anywhere yet. Even within LGBTQ+ spaces, I sometimes questioned if I was “queer enough” or “sure enough.” Identity can feel fragile when it’s new. At the same time, this year has been one of the most empowering seasons of my life. I joined a women's rugby club where many of them showed that it was okay not to know who I am and to figure it out. Once I stopped hiding from myself, I started making braver decisions. One of the biggest was changing my major to English Creative Writing. Before, I was on a completely different path with biology, trying to choose something safe. But writing has always been the place where I feel most honest. It is where I can truly speak. It is where I make sense of pain, love, confusion, and growth. Switching majors felt terrifying. It meant stepping into uncertainty. It meant admitting that I want something completely different. But it also felt right in a way nothing else had. I want to publish a book one day. Not just any book, but a story filled with complex, flawed, powerful LGBTQ+ characters who are more than stereotypes. I want queer people to see themselves as heroes. I want them to read about love that feels familiar and possible. I want them to know they are not alone in the quiet questioning, the fear, or the joy of becoming who they are. Growing up, I did not see many stories that reflected my experience. When representation did exist, it often felt tragic. That shapes you. It makes you wonder if your story matters. Writing is how I push back against that. It is how I create the kind of world I needed when I was younger. The obstacles I have faced due to my identity have mostly been internal battles: self-doubt, internalized shame, and the fear of disappointing people I love. But those struggles have deepened my empathy. They have made me more determined to tell stories that feel real. I am passionate about writing because it is a freedom I never thought I could have. I want to pursue creative writing not just as a career, but as a calling. I want to contribute to a literary space where LGBTQ+ stories are celebrated and given the depth they deserve. This first year of college has been about becoming, becoming honest, becoming brave, becoming myself. Writing is how I will continue that journey, and how I hope to help others feel seen along the way. Sincerely, Jalyne Beakoi.

Growing up, my parents expected me to chase after the “American Dream” by going to college straight after high school, graduate and have a 9-5, married with kids, etc, etc. However, being a black queer kid in the south (and having religious parents), I knew I wouldn’t meet their expectations. One of the main issues I ran into (with my parents) was my queerness. It was freshman year of high school. I was coming to terms with my sexuality and started crushing on a girl in her junior year. At that point, I’d already asked all of my friends for advice, but felt like I was making no progress. Heck, I didn’t even know what the girl’s personality was like. So, as a last resort, I asked my mom. She seemed baffled when I told her and kept repeating the phrase “it’s a girl?" like a broken record. When she finally understood what I was asking, all she had to say was “maybe you just like the qualities of this person in a friendly way or you want those same qualities.” All I did was nod along with her, not wanting to start an argument between us. When it comes to my sexuality (in the present), my parents seem to be on the fence about it. I couldn’t tell you how they'd react if I married a woman, but only time will tell. My passion for writing comes from my love of anime. I discovered it when I was in elementary school, but didn’t get into it until 6th grade. Stories of giant robots fighting evil, magical girls sparring in cute outfits, characters finding a place where they are loved and welcomed, it resonated with me. I was a bit hesitant to write at first. I didn’t read a lot of books and my grammar was messy. However, I knew that my first ever work didn’t have to be perfect, so I started writing pencil to paper and never looked back. Writing became my entire world in middle school. I’d write at school, on the bus ride home, family gatherings, it was never ending. However, due to me being so hyperfocused on it (and undiagnosed ADHD), my grades began to slip. My parents took notice of this and decided the best solution for me was to send me to a high school with a stricter grading system. The sudden change caused me to neglect my passion and my dream of being an author began to slowly fade away. That was until my junior year of high school. That year my school offered a creative writing class and I decided to take it on a whim. I didn’t think much of it, just thought it’d be nice to pick up the hobby again. I did have my doubts going into the class. “It’s been so long since I’ve written anything” “I’ve lost my spark. I’m not in middle school anymore” However, those thoughts left my mind when I entered that classroom. I was creating new characters left and right, asking my teacher to critique my work, enjoying my classmates’ stories and the worlds they built around them. I was having fun. I forgot how fun writing could be. Often I tell people the main reason I write is because I want to tell stories about people who look like me, but I think I’m starting to realize that’s not true. I enjoy creating characters and their backstories. I enjoy giving my characters trials they need to overcome. I enjoy worldbuilding and explaining how they work. Writing is fun. Plain and simple.