Growing up in a community where opportunities were scarce, I often found solace in the tales of those who overcame insurmountable odds. These stories ignited a fire within me—a burning desire to make a difference, to break the cycle, and to create a legacy of hope. My journey to Hampton University was more than a quest for higher education; it was a testament to my unyielding determination and the dreams I dared to dream despite the odds. Hampton University, with its rich history and legacy as a beacon of excellence for African Americans, became my North Star. However, the path to Hampton was not without its challenges. My family faced financial hardships that derailed my dreams. There were times when the thought of attending such a prestigious institution seemed like an unattainable fantasy. But I refused to let my circumstances define my destiny. I juggled multiple jobs in high school while maintaining a rigorous academic schedule. I spent countless nights studying, determined to secure scholarships and financial aid. The sacrifices were immense, but the vision of Hampton’s campus kept me going. Every obstacle became a stepping stone, every setback a lesson in perseverance. The day I received my acceptance letter from Hampton University was one of the most emotional moments of my life. It wasn't just an admission into a university; it was a validation of my hard work, resilience, and unwavering belief in my dreams. As I read the words, tears streamed down my face. I had done it—I was going to Hampton. Attending Hampton has been transformative. The professors, mentors, and peers I have encountered have enriched my understanding of what it means to be resilient and to strive for excellence. They have taught me that true strength lies not in the absence of challenges, but in the courage to face them head-on. Yet, even at Hampton, financial hardships continued to follow me. My grandmother, who has been a pillar of strength and support throughout my life, was diagnosed with cancer. The medical bills and associated expenses added an overwhelming burden to our already strained finances. There were moments when the weight of it all felt crushing, and I questioned how I could continue my education under such circumstances. But my grandmother became my inspiration. Despite her suffering, she urged me to persist and reminded me of the importance of education. I took on additional part-time jobs and applied for every scholarship and grant I could find. As a journalism major, I am committed to exposing medical racism and advocating for equitable healthcare. I want to be a beacon of hope, much like Hampton has been for me, and contribute to a legacy of healing and empowerment. In reflecting on my journey, I am reminded of a quote by Maya Angelou: "You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated." These words resonate deeply with me as they encapsulate my journey to Hampton and my aspirations beyond. The challenges I have faced have shaped my character, instilling a resilience that fuels my ambitions and propels me forward. As I stand on the cusp of my future, I am grateful for the journey that has brought me here. Hampton University is not just a dream realized; it is a testament to the power of resilience and the unwavering belief in one’s potential. It is a reminder that no matter how formidable the challenges, with determination and perseverance, we can turn our dreams into reality.

To be a Black woman in America is to be strong when feeling weak, protecting everyone around you while not feeling protected, with a smile on your face and a graceful presence. I remember staring at my reflection at thirteen years old and not noticing myself. A mere ghost of who I used to be. The World that once saw me as a young Black child started to view me as a woman and as a threat. An English teacher once told me "you'll never amount to anything, you'll end up dropping out of high school if anything." So filled with shame, I took those words and stuffed them in the deepest part of my heart, and soul. I became angry, empty, and silent. I never shared the pain of that White woman's words. Instead, I internalized the blatant disrespect and racism. Years later I pondered over the effect of that woman's words, actions towards me. I felt disappointed in myself. Maybe if I would have told someone the pain wouldn't be so raw, I wouldn't be so angry. I knew what I had to do, I had to go out and ensure other young black girls never felt like me during their educational experience. I began to use my voice to speak up. I discussed the oppression young black girls were facing in the schools, city. Being a class clown doesn't mean you're dumb, uneducated, and disinterested in your education. I now attend Hampton University, use the words of my past English to help fuel successes. I want to show young Black women that the only way out is through. We must fight these systems of oppression head-on with grace, intelligence, and knowledge. As a mentor to young Black girls, I show them that they can be anything in this world. No matter what any White man or woman says.

Music to me is like the air we get from the trees. Making us feel so liberated, so free. Music has always been my holy ground keeping me sane, keeping me strong, keeping me alive. I was eight years old the first time I heard Donny Hathaway’s “A song for you”. I didn’t know it then but this song would take me through every emotion I’ve ever felt within the next ten years. A song for you, my mom would always hold me in her arms on days when I felt like I couldn’t go on. She sang that song to me, building me up, making me feel like I was the strongest girl in the world. A song for you, I played this song for a boy I thought I loved, The lyrics too intense for him to comprehend. A song for you I played when he left me hurt and lonely. I felt small but just like always my mom was there. Ready to hold her in my arms because when she sang “I love you in a place, Where there’s no space or time.” she meant it. A song for you, the only song that would keep my back straight and my head clear for six months. Six months of replaying A song for you over and over and over again. This song like a shield that seemed to protect me from my inner demands, yet shows the world I am happy, I am not weak. A song for you teaching me how to keep my precious secrets just how Donny Sang. That same song held me when I fell down and couldn’t get up for a while. The same song that loves me for its life and I’ll always love it for mine. A song for you is literally the song that saved my life.

To be a conscious black woman in America is to be the backbone of every social-political revolution. To be a young conscious black woman means I hold the revolution in my hands. Amaud Aubrey, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd are names that sparked the summer of uprisings, demonstrations, and mourning. In my own mourning of these national hate crimes against fellow black people, I started to protest, rally, and attend other demonstrations. After the killings of Amuad Aubrey, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd I grew sad and angry with this country. I realized that I shared these emotions with the majority of my peers. We decided enough was enough. This summer, I and four other local high school students came together to be the change that we wanted to see in our community. To be said to change, we developed Paign to Peace. ‘Paign to Peace’ is a local organization of minority women in Champaign-Urbana and I have the honor of being one of those women. Within the organization, we have planned three protest marches, an education rally, and are members of the Champaign County Anti-Racist Coalition. Before I began protesting I was shy, avoided conflict, and hated public speaking. I was also plagued with the fears of messing up or receiving backlash for my views. My fear is why I chose to stay silent. That was until I reached my breaking point. I was tired of seeing people who resembled myself or my brother being murdered as a result of senseless acts of racism and brutality. I decided that it was my turn to use my voice, use my power as a black woman, to help my community. At that point, I realized helping my community was my calling. On June 6, 2020, my organization planned Champaign County's largest protest in history. This protest filled me with emotions that I was unaware that I had. Emotions that I was feeling not only for myself but for my community and organization as well. I spoke of Kiwane Carrington, a 15-year-old boy who was murdered by the Champaign Police Department. As I spoke, the crowd was silent, they heard me, they understood the importance of Kiwane and his legacy. Our community members understood that police brutality happens right here in our small town. As I stood in front of the crowd, their energy helped me realize I’ve had the tools all along, it was just a matter of using them. By the end of the summer, I had attended over 30 protests, and have spoken at more than half of them. The more involved and engaged I was with community activism, the more I matured and grew. I have learned that the revolution welcomes numerous perspectives from different walks of life. We have created over three community pantries and a community closet. I hope to continue to serve my community and break these chains of oppression that is hurting my community. I have met so many beautiful people with various lifestyles, who all are dedicated to actively making a difference. Differences that are not solely focused on social media but being on the ground and fighting with us. The courage and actions of fellow activists have motivated me to continue to push harder for my community with the work that I do. As Dr. Huey P. Newton once said, “The revolution has always been in the hands of the young. The young always inherit the revolution.”