I am Anita Simba, yet that is no longer my name. My biological parents gave me this name, meaning “gracious, sweet, warrior.” I am a child of the Congo, yet that is no longer my home. I was born in a village in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. When I was a young child, my mother died while giving birth to my baby sister. My father was left with three young children - my brother, my sister, and me. My father did everything in his power to provide a good life for us, but misfortune followed his every step. He could not find a job, so we went to bed hungry many nights. Sickness consumed my sister’s body. To make matters worse, he married a woman who brought pain and devastation to our family. The burden of caring for a dying child, not her own, drove my stepmother to madness. She killed my baby sister in the dead of night. When her small, lifeless body was found the next morning, a blanket of terror smothered the village. Four men hoisted the coffin carrying my sister’s body onto their shoulders and began their long trek into the desert to lay her to rest. Desperately, I chased after them, believing I could fight the demon of death and save my sister. I ran until my legs failed me. Finally, I turned back, tormented and defeated. I left a piece of my heart in the desert that day. After this tragedy, my father left his wife and took me to live with his brother whom he hoped would provide me with a more prosperous life. Traveling in a small canoe down the Congo River, it took many days to reach my uncle’s house. Once we arrived, my father took my face in his hands, kissed my forehead, and whispered in my ear that he would come back for me once he found a job and a house for us. I watched my father walk away, not knowing if I would see him again. My heart was shattered. I would have chosen homelessness and starvation if it meant I could stay with him. I was so in love with my daddy. During the months I spent in my uncle's home, he inflicted trauma and horror on my mind and body. One day the police came to my uncle’s house. They untied me, clothed me, and took me to the police station. The official report read that they removed me from the home “to save the life of this child.” They took me to an orphanage, a single concrete room where 200 children lived on only a small bowl of beans apiece each day. After months there, I was moved to a foster home. In 2010, I was adopted and brought to America to start my new life as Anna Joy Wiggins. In 2019, I was informed that my uncle had murdered my biological father. The weight of this news was soul-crushing. I would never get to feel my daddy's gentle touch or hear his soothing voice again. My daddy was gone. Not only was my father dead, but so were my mother, my baby sister, and my brother. Every second of every day, my heart aches for my family. However, the loss I have suffered will not defeat me. My life story would lead many people to believe that I am now a broken young adult. However, this is far from my reality. The fires of my experience have forged the person I am today. I have been able to use my pain to my advantage instead of my detriment. The potential I possess has been maximized due to my trauma. I grew stronger as a result of what was meant to break me. My spirit is unbreakable. I have learned resilience through the most painful moments in my life. I am still standing despite the adversities I have endured. As a result of losing my entire family, I have vowed to fight for those without a voice. I am currently a sophomore at Howard University, majoring in Sociology with a minor in Criminology. Following my undergraduate degree, I will attend law school. As a lawyer, I will seek justice for marginalized people. I will be the first person from my biological family to attend college. I will succeed not only for myself but for my family. Although they are no longer here, I will make them proud. My life as an orphan girl living on the streets of Congo is over. What matters most to me is showing love and compassion to those around me because this is what my daddy taught me. I will continue to FIGHT for my family and I will break the generational trauma. I am a warrior.

Meeting after meeting after meeting. During my summer internship, my supervisor set up meetings for me with several professionals in my field. The meetings were beneficial but a bit monotonous as I answered the same questions from each person. During my final meeting, the lawyer across the table asked me about myself. I started my normal introduction but only said a few words before she jumped up, ran around the table, and hugged me. When she heard the words "Howard University," the seemingly routine meeting became a HU Bison meet-up. She rattled off advice for me, gave me numbers of people she wanted me to meet, and exchanged contact information with me immediately. We talked about people we knew in common and my future career plans. The instant connection I feel with other HBCU students and alumni is unmatched. I heard about it before I went to Howard, but living it is even more powerful. For African Americans, separated by the diaspora and oppressed at every turn, our determination to maintain community and support one another is a triumph all our own. HBCUs provide a supportive network and a community that I treasure. I would choose Howard again and again!

Choosing to attend a Historically Black College or University was a deliberate decision rooted in my desire for an environment that not only celebrates Black excellence but also fosters a deep sense of community. Being Black means embracing resilience, strength, and cultural pride in a world that often marginalizes our voices. At an HBCU, I am immersed in a cultural sanctuary where the achievements and histories of Black people are at the forefront, providing me with a profound sense of belonging and empowerment. My experience at Howard University has equipped me with a comprehensive understanding of African American history and social justice, essential for my career as a civil rights lawyer. Conversations and courses on civil rights history, critical race theory, and social justice movements have provided me with the knowledge and skills necessary to address injustices. The community has been immensely valuable in shaping my perspective and commitment to civil rights advocacy. Being a Black civil rights lawyer means leveraging my unique experiences and cultural understanding to advocate for equality and justice. It means using my skills to amplify the voices of marginalized communities and challenge systems of oppression. My education and experiences at an HBCU have prepared me to be an effective advocate, emphasizing the importance of leadership, service, and community solidarity in the ongoing fight for justice and equality. With this foundation, I am empowered to make a meaningful impact in advancing civil rights and ensuring that Black voices are heard and respected.

Imagine a journey where the corridors of learning intersect with the corridors of incarceration, a path navigated not by choice but by circumstance. The school-to-prison pipeline (STPP) is a stark reality for many students, especially those from marginalized communities. It involves a complex interplay of policies, practices, and societal factors that funnel individuals from schools into the criminal justice system. With each disciplinary action, suspension, and encounter with law enforcement, this pipeline perpetuates cycles of inequality, depriving young minds of their right to education and opportunity. These factors disproportionately affect students of color, students with disabilities, and low-income students, reflecting broader societal inequities. To combat this grave injustice, we must address underlying factors such as racial bias in disciplinary practices and inadequate support for student's social and emotional needs. I am a sophomore at Howard University, double majoring in Criminology and Sociology, on the pre-law track. Upon receiving my bachelor's degree, I plan to work as a social worker while attending law school. After completing my legal education, I will embark on my career as a lawyer. As a social worker and lawyer, I am uniquely positioned to address and dismantle the school-to-prison pipeline. My commitment is based on a deep understanding of the systemic issues and a dedication to advocating for marginalized youth. As a social worker, my approach is multifaceted, focusing on both prevention and intervention: By working directly with schools, I will aim to foster supportive environments by advocating for restorative justice practices that prioritize mediation and conflict resolution over suspension and expulsion. These methods teach students accountability and empathy, reducing future conflicts. Many students caught in the pipeline face challenges such as poverty, trauma, and mental health issues. By providing comprehensive support services, including counseling, mentorship, and access to social services, I can help address these underlying issues. Early intervention is crucial, as it can redirect a child's path away from the justice system. Families are integral to a child's success. I will empower parents and guardians by providing resources, support, and education about their rights and navigating biased school systems. Legal Advocacy and Reform As a lawyer, my role expands into advocacy and systemic change: Many students and their families lack the resources to defend themselves against unjust disciplinary actions. By providing pro bono legal services, I can ensure that students have a fair chance to present their cases and challenge discriminatory practices. This legal representation is crucial in keeping students in school and out of the juvenile justice system. Advocacy at the policy level is essential for lasting change. I will work to influence legislation that promotes equity in education and justice, including eliminating zero-tolerance policies, reducing police presence in schools, and supporting restorative practices and mental health services. My commitment to addressing the school-to-prison pipeline is driven by a deep belief in the potential of every child and the right to an equitable education. I am dedicated to fighting for systemic change and providing direct support to those affected. Through a combination of social work and legal advocacy, I strive to create a world where schools are places of learning and growth, not gateways to the criminal justice system. This mission is not just professional but profoundly personal, as I see the promise in every young person and the possibility of a society that nurtures rather than punishes. Together, we can transform the systems that perpetuate inequality and ensure that every child has the opportunity to thrive. This is not just a fight for justice but a journey towards a more compassionate and equitable society. I will be the change.

I watched the face of a desperate man clinging to the last moments of his life flash across my phone. I, along with millions of others, watched videos of George Floyd’s last breaths. Floyd's humanity was stripped from him because people failed to see beyond his skin color. As many people watched this, they saw a “thug.” They saw a man with Black skin and assumed he must deserve what happened to him. I, however, saw a scared man, a creation made in God’s image, a father, a son, and a brother who deserved to be recognized for more than any mistakes he had made. America failed George Floyd and countless other victims of police brutality and injustice. This nation has failed the human race. That summer, I felt as though I was watching my country crumble during the murders and the protests that followed. I knew something had to change within the American justice system. A plaque that hangs in my family room states Mohandas Gandhi’s quote, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Seeing this message daily reminds me of the power I have to affect change. 2020 changed many people in profound ways. One of the changes for me was a certainty in how my career and calling would make a difference in this world. My hope is for a world that is more just, peaceful, and equitable. Currently, I am a freshman at Howard University in Washington D.C., majoring in Criminology and Sociology. After completing my undergraduate studies, I will attend law school and use my law degree to fight for justice and be a voice for marginalized people. In particular, I plan to help immigrants and refugees receive justice. Oftentimes, Americans ignore the plights of immigrants and refugees or even view them with contempt. Serving in the refugee community, I have seen individuals who are courageous and innovative overcomers. Working alongside this people group has affirmed my passion to be a voice for marginalized communities. I have volunteered weekly with Migros Aid, Inc since 2017 as a tutor and mentor. This role has allowed me to develop relationships with students and adults in the Indianapolis refugee community. My relationships with the adults have grown as we eat together, work in the community garden, or practice English conversation. I have grown to love the children as we play games, read books, or talk about their days at school. Adults and children have shared their life stories with me, giving me a broader perspective of the world. They are the most generous and sincere people I know. They welcome everyone with open arms into their homes. They constantly want to share a meal with you, even when they have little. I have watched these families struggle, and I believe that each of them needs someone to advocate for them as they navigate a new country and try to thrive as the people they were meant to be. I am committed to welcoming refugees to our country and helping them as they use their gifts and skills to strengthen our nation. These brave people deserve a safer and more abundant life, and I yearn to make that possible for them. Experiencing early childhood trauma has ignited a fire within me. The fires of my experience have forged the person I am today. My pain has taught me the importance of compassion and empathy. The mission of my life is to help give a voice to those without a voice. As Gandhi's words encourage us, I know that I will help create such change.

I watched the face of a desperate man clinging to the last moments of his life flash across my phone. I, along with millions of others, watched videos of George Floyd’s last breaths. Floyd's humanity was stripped from him because people failed to see beyond his skin color. As many people watched this, they saw a “thug.” They saw a man with Black skin and assumed he must deserve what happened to him. I, however, saw a scared man, a creation made in God’s image, a father, a son, and a brother who deserved to be recognized for more than any mistakes he had made. America failed George Floyd and countless other victims of police brutality and injustice. This nation has failed the human race. That summer, I felt as though I was watching my country crumble during the murders and the protests that followed. I knew something had to change within the American justice system. A plaque that hangs in my family room states Mohandas Gandhi’s quote, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Seeing this message daily reminds me of the power I have to affect change. 2020 changed many people in profound ways. One of the changes for me was a certainty in how my career and calling would make a difference in this world. My hope is for a world that is more just, peaceful, and equitable. Currently, I am a freshman at Howard University in Washington D.C., majoring in Criminology and Sociology. After completing my undergraduate studies, I will attend law school and use my law degree to fight for justice and be a voice for marginalized people. In particular, I plan to help immigrants and refugees receive justice. Oftentimes, Americans ignore the plights of immigrants and refugees or even view them with contempt. Serving in the refugee community, I have seen individuals who are courageous and innovative overcomers. Working alongside this people group has affirmed my passion to be a voice for marginalized communities. I have volunteered weekly with Migros Aid, Inc since 2017 as a tutor and mentor. This role has allowed me to develop relationships with students and adults in the Indianapolis refugee community. My relationships with the adults have grown as we eat together, work in the community garden, or practice English conversation. I have grown to love the children as we play games, read books, or talk about their days at school. Adults and children have shared their life stories with me, giving me a broader perspective of the world. They are the most generous and sincere people I know. They welcome everyone with open arms into their homes. They constantly want to share a meal with you, even when they have little. I have watched these families struggle, and I believe that each of them needs someone to advocate for them as they navigate a new country and try to thrive as the people they were meant to be. I am committed to welcoming refugees to our country and helping them as they use their gifts and skills to strengthen our nation. These brave people deserve a safer and more abundant life, and I yearn to make that possible for them. Experiencing early childhood trauma has ignited a fire within me. The fires of my experience have forged the person I am today. My pain has taught me the importance of compassion and empathy. The mission of my life is to help give a voice to those without a voice. As Gandhi's words encourage us, I know that I will help create such change.

I am Anita Simba, yet that is no longer my name. I am a child of the Congo, yet that is no longer my home. I was born in a village in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. When I was a young child, my mother died while giving birth to my baby sister. My father was left with three young children. My father did everything in his power to provide a good life for us, but misfortune followed his every step. He could not find a job, so we went to bed hungry many nights. Sickness consumed my sister’s body. Then he married a woman who brought unforeseen pain to our family. The burden of caring for a dying child, not her own, drove my stepmother to madness. She killed my baby sister in the dead of night. When her small, lifeless body was found the next morning, a blanket of terror smothered the village. Four men hoisted the coffin carrying my sister’s body onto their shoulders and began their long trek into the desert to lay her to rest. Desperately, I chased after them, believing I could fight the demon of death and save my sister. After this tragedy, took me to live with his brother whom he hoped would provide me with a more prosperous life. Traveling in a canoe down the Congo River, it took many days to reach my uncle’s house. Once we arrived, my father took my face in his hands and whispered that he would come back for me once he found a job. I watched my father walk away, not knowing if or when I would see him again. My heart was shattered. During the months I spent in my uncle's home, he inflicted trauma and horror on my mind and body. One day the police came to my uncle’s house. They untied me, clothed me, and took me to the police station. They took me to an orphanage, a single concrete room where 200 children lived on only a small bowl of beans apiece each day. After months there, I was moved to a foster home. In 2010, I was adopted and brought to America to start my new life as Anna Joy Wiggins. My life story would lead many people to believe that I am now a broken young adult unable to move beyond the trauma in my life. However, this is far from my reality. The fires of my experience have forged the person I am today. I have been able to use my pain to my advantage instead of my detriment. Enduring trauma has created a resilient woman. My pain has taught me the importance of compassion and empathy. There is no earthly explanation as to why I am alive today. Yet, I have been given a second chance at life. I grew stronger as a result of what was meant to break me. I acknowledge that I was a victim, but I refuse to own being a victim. My identity extends far beyond that. In August 2023, I entered Howard University, my dream school, majoring in Criminology and Sociology. After completing my undergraduate degree, I will attend law school. As a lawyer, I will advocate for children, immigrants, and other marginalized people. I will succeed not only for myself but for my family. My life as an orphan girl living on the streets of Congo is over. I will continue to fight for my family and I will break the generational trauma. I am a warrior.

I am Anita Simba, yet that is no longer my name. My biological parents gave me this name, meaning “gracious, sweet, warrior.” I am a child of the Congo, yet that is no longer my home. I was born in a village in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. When I was a young child, my mother died while giving birth to my baby sister. My father was left with three young children - my brother, my sister, and me. My father did everything in his power to provide a good life for us, but misfortune followed his every step. He could not find a job, so we went to bed hungry many nights. Sickness consumed my sister’s body. To make matters worse, he married a woman who brought pain and devastation to our family. The burden of caring for a dying child, not her own, drove my stepmother to madness. She killed my baby sister in the dead of night. When her small, lifeless body was found the next morning, a blanket of terror smothered the village. Four men hoisted the coffin carrying my sister’s body onto their shoulders and began their long trek into the desert to lay her to rest. Desperately, I chased after them, believing I could fight the demon of death and save my sister. I ran until my legs failed me. Finally, I turned back, tormented and defeated. I left a piece of my heart in the desert that day. After this tragedy, my father left his wife and took me to live with his brother whom he hoped would provide me with a more prosperous life. Traveling in a small canoe down the Congo River, it took many days to reach my uncle’s house. Once we arrived, my father took my face in his hands, kissed my forehead, and whispered in my ear that he would come back for me once he found a job and a house for us. I watched my father walk away, not knowing if I would see him again. My heart was shattered. I would have chosen homelessness and starvation if it meant I could stay with him. I was so in love with my daddy. During the months I spent in my uncle's home, he inflicted trauma and horror on my mind and body. One day the police came to my uncle’s house. They untied me, clothed me, and took me to the police station. The official report read that they removed me from the home “to save the life of this child.” They took me to an orphanage, a single concrete room where 200 children lived on only a small bowl of beans apiece each day. After months there, I was moved to a foster home. In 2010, I was adopted and brought to America to start my new life as Anna Joy Wiggins. In 2019, I was informed that my uncle had murdered my biological father. The weight of this news was soul-crushing. I would never get to feel my daddy's gentle touch or hear his soothing voice again. My daddy was gone. Not only was my father dead, but so were my mother, my baby sister, and my brother. Every second of every day, my heart aches for my family. However, the loss I have suffered will not defeat me. My life story would lead many people to believe that I am now a broken young adult. However, this is far from my reality. The fires of my experience have forged the person I am today. I have been able to use my pain to my advantage instead of my detriment. The potential I possess has been maximized due to my trauma. I grew stronger as a result of what was meant to break me. My spirit is unbreakable. I have learned resilience through the most painful moments in my life. I am still standing despite the adversities I have endured. As a result of losing my entire family, I have vowed to fight for those without a voice. During the fall of 2023, I plan to attend college to major in criminology and sociology. Following my undergraduate degree, I will attend law school. As a lawyer, I will seek justice for marginalized people. I will be the first person from my biological family to attend college. I will succeed not only for myself but for my family. Although they are no longer here, I will make them proud. My life as an orphan girl living on the streets of Congo is over. What matters most to me is showing love and compasssion to those around me because this is what my daddy taught me. I will continue to FIGHT for my family and I will break the generational trauma. I am a warrior.