Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, such as films, shows, and books, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media. Rather than my pieces being a commodity, they are aspects of myself to promote the humanization of visual illustrations. I am a storyteller, an inspiration for others, and a catalyst for my society.

In my senior year of high school, I took AP Drawing and decided to revolve my sustained investigation portfolio on how I can depict the effects of misogyny within young girls through illustrations. One of my art pieces, “Internalized,” which depicts a young girl chopping the hair off of a doll, acts as an embodiment of my experiences with femininity as a child. My investigation gave me the opportunity for self-reflection and healing by acknowledging my internalized bias. By conducting thorough research on misogyny as a whole, I understood that I disliked ideas associated with femininity since they were associated with womanhood and I associated womanhood with fecklessness. Upon accepting my internal conflict, I began to show pride in femininity, embracing my identity as a woman, such as growing out my hair and owning a variety of feminine clothing. Simultaneously, I realized the significance of depicting real-life issues as “Internalization” was the embodiment of an art piece that should have been exposed to me during my childhood to advance my comprehension of my conflict. I sought to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. While many categorize myself as an “artist,” my role in society expands beyond that one word title. I incorporate the arts with the struggles of humanity, with its history, its culture and its literature. Thus, many will begin their journey to accommodate their issues and develop their identity to find comfort in their own skin. While I continue my journey to dismantle the biases engraved into me during my childhood, I will further my understanding of the complexities of humanity through constant inquiry through the arts and placing the arts in communication with human struggles. Simultaneously, upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, such as films, shows, and books, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media. Rather than my pieces being a commodity, they are aspects of myself to promote the humanization of visual illustrations. I am a storyteller, an inspiration for others, and a catalyst for my society.

Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, such as films, shows, and books, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media. Rather than my pieces being a commodity, they are aspects of myself to promote the humanization of visual illustrations. I am a storyteller, an inspiration for others, and a catalyst for my society. I seek to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. By incorporating the arts with humanity issues, beginning many people's journeys and accommodating with the dismantling of issues and the development of their identity. While I continue my journey to dismantle the biases engraved into me during my childhood, I will further my understanding of the complexities of humanity through inquiry through the arts and placing the arts in communication with human struggles.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, such as films, shows, and books, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media. Rather than my pieces being a commodity, they are aspects of myself to promote the humanization of visual illustrations. I am a storyteller, an inspiration for others, and a catalyst for my society. I seek to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. By incorporating the arts with humanity issues, beginning many people's journeys and accommodating with the dismantling of issues and the development of their identity. While I continue my journey to dismantle the biases engraved into me during my childhood, I will further my understanding of the complexities of humanity through inquiry through the arts and placing the arts in communication with human struggles.

Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts, such as films, shows, and books, and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people. My ability in contributing to the betterment of society through visual mediums urges me to advance my knowledge of visual art, as I hope to reflect the complexities of humanity through philosophical illustrations. By indulging in rigorous undergraduate curricula, I will expand my knowledge regarding the arts and humanities. I will share my findings putting them in communication with each other, excelling beyond the limits of visual communication to develop groundbreaking inquiry towards the status quo, leading to the dismantlement of corrupt systems, thus, providing havens for those who feel malnourished in regards to depictions of themselves within mainstream media. Rather than my pieces being a commodity, they are aspects of myself to promote the humanization of visual illustrations. I am a storyteller, an inspiration for others, and a catalyst for my society. I seek to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. By incorporating the arts with humanity issues, beginning many people's journeys and accommodating with the dismantling of issues and the development of their identity. While I continue my journey to dismantle the biases engraved into me during my childhood, I will further my understanding of the complexities of humanity through inquiry through the arts and placing the arts in communication with human struggles.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

Upon being exposed to the world of the internet and mainstream media, I’ve noticed how many individuals within certain communities go underrepresented and unheard of. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. In return, there was never anything for me to relate to or see myself in. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and from that moment I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I ventured out into the outskirts of the internet once more only to find that many individuals would often undermine the overall impact of representation within art. These certain reactions could be found within my own communities. The circumstances left me puzzled. For weeks, I reflected and questioned why. I had assumed that with more representation of different communities would bring greater joy, however, I found that to be far from the truth as many communities have been subjected to the mass attention white individuals have attracted throughout the decades, causing them to internalize patriarchal ideals rather than their own. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics in his hands: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. For weeks, I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I’ve pushed my art to new limits. I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online. I think back to when those five comic books fell into my young palms. At that moment, it clicked. Mr. Wang saw me for me, and from then on, I saw myself the same way. I strive to be an inspiration for others in the same way that Mr. Wang was for me.

In my senior year of high school, I took AP Drawing and decided to revolve my sustained investigation portfolio on how I can depict the effects of misogyny within young girls through illustrations. One of my art pieces, “Internalized,” which depicts a young girl chopping the hair off of a doll, acts as an embodiment of my experiences with femininity as a child. My investigation gave me the opportunity for self-reflection and healing by acknowledging my internalized bias. By conducting thorough research on misogyny as a whole, I understood that I disliked ideas associated with femininity since they were associated with womanhood and I associated womanhood with fecklessness. Upon accepting my internal conflict, I began to show pride in femininity, embracing my identity as a woman, such as growing out my hair and owning a variety of feminine clothing. Simultaneously, I realized the significance of depicting real-life issues as “Internalization” was the embodiment of an art piece that should have been exposed to me during my childhood to advance my comprehension of my conflict. I sought to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. While many categorize myself as an “artist,” my role in society expands beyond that one word title. I incorporate the arts with the struggles of humanity, with its history, its culture and its literature. Thus, many will begin their journey to accommodate their issues and develop their identity to find comfort in their own skin.

At the age of ten, my father introduced me to his friends. “This is my son.” My father laughs. In reality, I was my father’s daughter, but he never addressed me as such, leading me to believe the idea of a daughter dissatisfied him. In return, I began internalizing his misogynistic ideals in elementary school. I referred to myself as a tomboy and never openly associated with interests that were associated with femininity. I put my long hair up in my hat to mock the appearance of a boy. I refused to wear dresses and touch anything pink and projected my beliefs onto other girls, claiming that liking pink was “gross” and that dresses were “weird.” I missed out on the girlhood I craved for to fulfill my father’s desire for a son, and it was not until high school that I sought to combat those conflicts. I currently take an independent study of AP Drawing and decided to revolve my sustained investigation on how I can depict the effects of misogyny within young girls through illustrations. One of my art pieces, “Internalized,” which depicts a young girl chopping the hair off of a doll, acts as an embodiment of my experiences with femininity as a child. My investigation gave me the opportunity for self-reflection and healing by acknowledging my internalized bias. By conducting thorough research on misogyny as a whole, I understood that I disliked ideas associated with femininity since they were associated with womanhood and I associated womanhood with fecklessness. Upon accepting my internal conflict, I began to show pride in femininity, embracing my identity as a woman, such as growing out my hair and owning a variety of feminine clothing. Simultaneously, I realized the significance of depicting real-life issues as “Internalization” was the embodiment of an art piece that should have been exposed to me during my childhood to advance my comprehension of my conflict. I sought to expose individuals to what they may struggle with to kickstart their healing process through visual communication. While many categorize myself as an “artist,” my role in society expands beyond that one word title. I incorporate the arts with the struggles of humanity, with its history, its culture and its literature. Thus, many will begin their journey to accommodate their issues and develop their identity to find comfort in their own skin. While I continue my journey to dismantle the biases engraved into me during my childhood, I will further my understanding of the complexities of humanity through constant inquiry through the arts and placing the arts in communication with human struggles. The voices of many queer women of color especially go unnoticed and I happened to fall under that category. For most of my life, I’ve consumed a variety of the arts and a vast majority catered to white, straight, or male audiences. It was until eighth grade that I was exposed to the diversity of individuals, specifically within literature. Authors such as Toni Morrison, Charlotte Brontë and Margaret Atwood displayed the struggles stemming from their identities, and I was hooked into their styles of storytelling. I took it upon myself to emphasize the significance of representation for people of color and for the LGBTQ+ community through the creation of art, specifically, illustration and creative writing. The characters that I have developed and produced have proven to be impactful as they were the embodiments of the representation that I sought as a child and educated those who were not as familiar with certain cultures or people.

In order to raise awareness of the horrors of domestic violence, I chose to utilize my passion for illustration and creative writing to develop a personal, impactful story revolving around domestic violence. As a daughter of a father who initiated domestic abuse onto my mother, I found it necessary to retell my story through an artistic lens. I not only curated a story of my experiences to comfort the uncomfortable, but to also possibly have abusers realize the impact of their actions and refrain from continuing their abuse. Furthermore, as a minority, I am familiar with the feeling of being misrepresented or not being represented at all. Therefore, I took it upon myself to be what mainstream media could not be to those who have experienced similar abuse. I took it upon myself to take advantage of my influence and use it to spread awareness. Through visual storytelling, I highlight the various complexities that come with being effected by domestic abuse: How a victim may cope unhealthily with trauma, how an abuser may have repeated a cycle of abuse of childhood, and, specifically, how a child may react as they witness domestic violence take place and how their trauma may haunt them in adulthood. I find it vital to explore different perspectives and aspects to know the roots behind why domestic abuse may start. Additionally, with a firmer understanding of why domestic violence begins, many can understand how it can be avoided. It is possible to alleviate domestic violence rates, even if it is just one less abuser. One less abuser is another partner, another child, or another family safe from the trauma experiencing domestic violence. This is just one of the things I hope society gains from my story. By spreading awareness, I inform others about both the mental and physical damage inflicted on a victim. I inform others of the trauma that comes with being close witness as a child. I inform others of the difficulties of healing from domestic abuse and the beauty that comes with healing. To be represented is to be seen, and to see that your story could possibly have its own happy ending despite its sad beginning is to be hopeful. Representation is always powerful for a minority and to spread awareness is to help those with similar experiences be heard. While being a victim of domestic abuse has irreversible effects, it is always important to remember the light at the end of the tunnel. Through the integration between my experiences and my skills, this is how I will tell my story and this is how I will impact others.

During my elementary years, I found myself sitting in the school lobby near the front desk officer almost every day after school, waiting for my parents to pick me up. I watched kids in the aftercare program go down to eat in the cafeteria while my stomach groaned. I was the only child waiting at that lobby. I pitied myself and resented my parents for their neglect. My heart sank each time I overheard my teacher’s phone blurt, “You have reached the voicemail of--”. I was known as the kid who would always be picked up late and the kid whose father was suspected for domestic abuse. I felt it from the way the security guards would scowl their faces at the sight of me walking into the lobby for the fourth time in the same week, and how the social worker looked at me with sympathy every time I glanced up at her. I hated how every adult looked down at me as a child, all except for one: My art teacher, Mr. Wang. Mr. Wang approached me one day as I waited in the lobby and asked why I was still at school. I told him I was waiting for my parents to pick me up, and he left for a moment. He soon came back with five comics: The Legend of Korra, Ninjago, Junior Braves of the Apocalypse and two Sonic the Hedgehog issues. Sonic the Hedgehog was always my favorite character, and he remembered that. I beamed with excitement in that somber lobby. Despite the circumstances, I was granted with kindness, and I was extremely grateful for it. I brought my comics with me everywhere. Those comics kept me company almost every day after school for hours. I read one of the Sonic the Hedgehog issues so much that the pages began to wear out and tear apart. After reading them repeatedly, I drew the characters on the pages. After that, my reputation changed. To many, I was an aspiring, young artist. My teachers’ lectures went in one ear and out the other. They assumed my lack of attention was out of malice, but little did they know it was because art was an escape. Art gave me freedom, and Mr. Wang saw that. My ears were the first to hear about Mr. Wang’s new Artistically-Talented-Class program before it was announced. There, I explored my potential in illustration and got to experience trips that opened my eyes to the world of the art industry. I carried these skills with me through high school. As a senior, I conjured up mascot designs for my school’s Queer-Straight-Alliance club and developed my skills in character crafting. I put myself out of my comfort zone by participating in contests. Winning one had its perks: winning free clothes from my favorite singer, Lyn Lapid. This helped improve my art skills, and taught me patience as the process for shipping merchandise was lengthy. While participating in Team Wilderness’s photography club, several of my photos were sold during their galleries. They taught me how to professionally advertise my work. By gaining confidence from my sales at the galleries, I sold my own art by taking commissions online, discovering my interest in business. After my studies, I see myself working at The Big Apple examining various design perspectives, molding me into a well-rounded individual with the potential to combine both storytelling and art. Whether through crafting children's books, editorial pieces, or comics, I seek to spark conversations, challenge perceptions, ignite imaginations, and make a meaningful impact in the world of illustration and business.