Growing up as a young Black girl, I’ve seen firsthand how underrepresented communities, especially Black and brown neighborhoods who are often left behind when it comes to opportunities. But I also saw how much power there is in our people. Whether it's the way we hustle, create, or support one another, we’ve always found ways to survive and thrive, even when the system wasn't built for us. That’s what pushed me to study business. I don’t just want to make money—I want to use my future career to create lasting change and bring economic power back into the hands of my people. Economic empowerment is more than just receiving a wage. It's about having ownership, wealth, and control over your future. When communities have access to strong businesses, financial education, and resources, they can break the cycle of suffering. They may invest in schools, create safe housing, and help the future generation. Business innovation, such as new technology companies, charities, and small business development, can provide people with the tools they need to achieve their goals. For example, look at companies like Blavity, a media company built by and for Black young people. They didn't wait for huge companies to spread their story; they built their own platform and are now reaching millions. That is innovation. That is empowerment. And it's altering how the world perceives us. If more underrepresented people had access to funding, mentorship, and support, I believe we would see a wave of new leaders, artists, and entrepreneurs develop, improving their communities along with them. As a business major, I want to be a part of that movement. My dream is to establish a business consulting firm that specializes on assisting minority-owned firms in starting, growing, and maintaining itself. I want to work with people who have huge dreams but are unsure where to begin—those who may not have access to typical business networks but have passion and ideas that deserve to be heard. I also want to establish a nonprofit to teach young people in deprived schools about business, money management, and leadership. Because when you give someone the tools for building, they may build not only for themselves, but also for future generations. It is also important to me that justice and equality for everyone be at the heart of all I do. That includes making sure that women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and other underrepresented groups have a seat at the table. That entails calling out systems that keep us out and creating new systems that welcome us in. Business can no longer be only about profit; it must also be about purpose. And I am ready to be the kind of leader who makes it the norm rather than the exception. People sometimes underestimate how powerful we can be when we work together and support one another. But I see it every day—in the stories of small business owners, my classmates' creativity, and my community's strong will. I believe in ourselves. I believe in the future. And I believe that with the appropriate support, resources, and innovation, we can bring about long-lasting change. We can create a movement. So yes, I want to be successful. But I don't just want success for me; I want success that reaches out, gives back, and changes the game for everyone who has ever been written out. Business is my path, but equality is my goal. And I am just getting started.

Adversity has a way of shaping people. For me, it came in the form of isolation and self-doubt during my first year of high school. I had just transferred from a small charter school to a large public high school in a completely new town. I went from knowing everyone to knowing no one. My skin complexion was different, my clothes didn’t match the latest trends, and I felt like an outsider in every hallway. The hardest part wasn’t being alone—it was feeling invisible. In the beginning, I tried to blend in. I stayed quiet in class, sat alone at lunch, and avoided drawing attention to myself. But that didn’t help. My grades slipped, and I stopped participating in the things I once loved, like painting. I knew something had to change. I remember one evening, sitting on my bed with my journal, writing about how lost I felt. The act of writing reminded me of who I was. Someone with a voice. Someone who had something to say. I learned three major things: First, that being different is a strength, not a weakness. Second, that community can be built wherever you are, as long as you're willing to be open and show up. And finally, finding your voice is the first step to finding your purpose. These lessons are exactly why I want to attend a Historically Black College or University. At an HBCU, I see the opportunity to thrive in a space that celebrates not only academic excellence but also cultural identity, leadership, and resilience. HBCUs were built on the very principle of turning adversity into achievement. They have a history of empowering students who, like me, want more than just an education—we want to be part of a legacy. I’m drawn to the close-knit, supportive environment HBCUs are known for. I want to be in a place where professors know my name, where classmates become lifelong friends, and where my identity as a young Black leader is seen not as an exception, but as an expectation. I know that at an HBCU, I’ll find mentors who understand my journey and peers who are as committed to their dreams as I am. Looking to the future, I plan to study Marketing specifically in Sales, with the goal of Real Estate, opening my own design firm and launching a nonprofit. I believe an HBCU will give me the foundation I need to succeed—not just academically, but personally and culturally. I want to give back to the same kind of community that helped me rediscover my voice. I want to inspire others the way I was once inspired—to remind them that even in the face of adversity, we can rise. Choosing an HBCU isn’t just about college, it’s about continuing a journey that started the moment I picked up my pen and wrote myself out of silence. It’s about becoming part of something bigger than myself. It’s about home.