In my junior year of high school, I discovered the term period poverty: “lack of access to menstrual products, hygiene facilities, waste management, and education”. As a young Haitian-American, I grew up regularly sending boxes of supplies to family in Haiti with my mom, I had always known what it was on a fundamental level, but never had a name for it and never had to experience it firsthand. As I grew older and was more exposed to news around the world, I learned more about the women who suffered using the same pad for days because they were denied a basic necessity. The thing that shocked me the most, however; was finding out that 1/5 of girls miss school due to lack of access to feminine hygiene in America. Again, I knew that these issues existed before, but in my mind, they did not exist so close to home. It was eye-opening when I realized that there were women in my community, in school, or in my neighborhood. But I had no idea how close to home it would hit until my aunt died from toxic shock syndrome. After the devastating earthquake in Haiti, she lost all of her belongings when her house crumbled, and because of this, she was forced to ration her pads and eventually use tampons that were sent over. Tampons are not commonly used in Haiti, so she had no way of knowing that leaving them in for even just an hour longer could have deadly consequences. She got infected and due to the country's poor healthcare system, succumbed to her illness and passed away. I wanted to change things, to be able to stop this from happening to anyone else, but aside from small care packages, I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Until I mentioned this to a teacher of mine and she suggested I start a non-profit. The task seemed daunting at first, but through doing my research I realized that this could soon become a reality. I then founded, Bleeding Hearts Across America. Within our first year, we were able to provide hygiene products to over 800 women and girls, aid over 3,000 people, and establish a local period pantry (a pantry where women in the community can come forward and grab whatever supplies they need for the month), bringing awareness to underprivileged/ underrepresented communities, and an advocate for the women who are not in a position to advocate for themselves. Through this experience, I discovered my love for helping others. Through creating this non-profit I was able to work with many amazing community members and organizations like Brave Church, Christ Fellowship, The Lotus Shelter for Women and Shelter, and Healthy Havanna. These foundations and churches helped me and motivated me to continue my journey and aid more people. This experience and this non-profit will always be a huge part of my life. I plan to continue not only advocating for women who aren’t able to advocate for themselves but also educating and empowering women to do the same for others.

On October 17, 2005, I entered this world screaming and crying. Eightteen years later; I am still crying. Every significant moment of my life involved tears being shed. They are the binding of the book I call my life. As a child, I cried often, and with each tear, I marked a new milestone. I still remember, ten years ago, in second grade. My school had gathered in the auditorium for an award ceremony. My chest was puffed, my spine straight as a stem while I excitedly awaited to hear my name. But with every other name called the winds of defeat blew against my feeble stem, bending it further until it snapped. I walked to class with my wilted stem, while a foreign feeling I had never experienced washed over me; failure. Approaching my classroom door, the tears that I could no longer hold in began to freefall down my cheeks. Small hiccups and sniffles escaped my lips as I curled my hands into tiny fists, digging my nails into my skin, willing my tears to stop before the clicking of my teacher’s footsteps approached. They wouldn’t, and when she saw me, instead of providing comfort, she shammed me in front of the class, making an example out of me. She promptly announced, “Tears will get you nothing in life, as we see here with Condoleezza.” Then she made me sit outside until I “got it together.” My teacher broke something inside me that day, and I only began to uncover it years later. It all came to a head in high school. A lot had happened in the years prior; my grandmother had died, followed by her sister, and then my cousin. I experienced three losses in quick succession, which had given me zero time to process. I denied myself the opportunity to grieve when I refused to cry at their funerals, so instead of letting my emotions out, they ate away at me. I became withdrawn and fell into a deep depression. As my grades slipped further, I convinced myself that I was fine, because to be anything other than fine, was a burden. That summer my dry spell ended with a storm of tears. I had recently moved and was trying to find the will to unbox and put away my belongings when my sister came into my room to lecture me about not yet unpacking. It had been a particularly rough week, and for some reason that was the leaf that broke the dam. I began to sob uncontrollably, and suddenly I was back in 2nd grade all over again– except this was different. Instead of sunning me away and chastizing me for being “childish,” my sister held me. She held on while I cried out with anguish I didn’t know slept dormant inside. She stayed through my wailing until I lost my voice, sobbing until I couldn’t breathe, coughing until my chest burned, and crying until my face was red and hot, and my eyes refused to produce more tears. With these tears, I watered a long-since wilted flower, and for the first time, I felt my snapped stem begin to mend. I cry more often now, slowly but surely learning to embrace my tears fully and unapologetically. Through my writing I embrace my tears, be it through the short stories I write for myself or through the poems and excerpts I write for my school’s literary magazine. I embrace my sadness, my anger, my joy, and everything in between. I let my tears fall freely, watering the ever-growing garden I call my life.

As a first-generation college student, my family has invested so much in me to give me the best fighting chance in life that they were never able to receive. So, I made sure I paid them back in the only way I knew how, by working hard and pushing myself to perform well in school. In my 14 years of schooling, I have never missed a single day of school. My mom made sure that I was present and in class every day. It was just one of the many things my family did to make sure I had my best foot forward in regards to my education. My family always reminded me how important it is to work hard in life because nothing will be handed to you, and I made sure to work hard in anything and everything I put my mind to. To me, an education is the greatest and most valuable thing anyone could have. While you can lose everything in your life, money, possessions, even loved ones, your mind is something no one can take from you. I knew from the moment that I entered high school that my parents would not be able to pay for my education. I do not come from a wealthy family by any means, and knowing that I worked even harder to ensure that I could find a way to pay for college myself through scholarships and work. My efforts were paid off when I was awarded the Presidential Scholarship from Loyola Chicago. I remember being so excited when I first read my acceptance letter and saw the money they were offering me. But, with that excitement also came a sad moment of clarity, even with the scholarship I would still need to pay more to attend. My dream is so close, but still so far. This scholarship would be the final push that I would need to make my dreams a reality and achieve my end goal of being a lawyer. As a young black woman, I knew the odds were not stacked in my favor, but throughout it all I maintained, and still maintain, hope, and with this scholarship, I still wholeheartedly believe that I will make it. That a final lifeline will be thrown in my direction and lift me to that last step I need to take before I can start the journey of the rest of my life.

Period poverty: “lack of access to menstrual products, hygiene facilities, waste management, and education.” As a Haitian-American who regularly sent boxes of supplies to family in Haiti, I’d always known what it was, but never had a name for it. My first experience with period poverty was the infamous 2010 earthquake that devastated Haiti, not because I was personally there, but because of the effect it had on me - even in America. I will never forget the moment my mother got the call that her aunt had died. I later found she died from toxic shock syndrome. She had always had heavy menstrual cycles, and after losing all her belongings, she was forced to use the same tampon for almost 24 hours due to attempting to ration what she had left. Because tampon use was not common in Haiti, she had to use them because of her heavy menstrual cycle, most did not know the dire consequences of using one for an extended period. Unfortunately, this would not be an uncommon occurrence. While toxic shock syndrome is rare, humiliation, infection, and starvation were rampant in not just Haiti, but also, to my surprise, in America. Some women have to miss work or school because they lack necessary hygiene products. Others have to choose whether they feed themselves that day or buy a box of tampons, which despite being an unavoidable necessity, are taxed as luxury items. I wanted to change things, but aside from care packages, I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Until it was discussed at one of the clubs I participate in at school, Women of Tomorrow. At a meeting, we were discussing potentially hosting a period drive in school with the club, and that got me thinking. At first, I was discouraged that we would only be able to host the drive for one month, once a year, because people menstruate for more than just one month out of the year. I had wished at the time that it would be possible for the club to do more in the efforts of supporting and bringing awareness to women’s hygiene. That’s when I realized that I was more than capable of taking the initiative and doing this myself. So, I started looking into what would be the best ways to help and how I could get more people involved in my cause. Through this, I dove deeper into what a non-profit is. I had never done something like that, but from that point on I decided that this was what I wanted to do. I then founded, Bleeding Hearts Across America. Within our first year, we were able to provide hygiene products to over 3,000 women and girls, bringing awareness to underprivileged/underrepresented communities, and an advocate for the women who aren’t in a position to advocate for themselves. I plan to continue not only advocating for women but also educating and empowering women to do the same for others.

In my junior year of high school, I discovered the term period poverty: “lack of access to menstrual products, hygiene facilities, waste management, and education”. As a young Haitian-American, I grew up regularly sending boxes of supplies to family in Haiti with my mom, I had always known what it was on a fundamental level, but never had a name for it and never had to experience it firsthand. As I grew older and was more exposed to news around the world, I learned more about the women who suffered using the same pad for days because they were denied a basic necessity. The thing that shocked me the most, however; was finding out that 1/5 of girls miss school due to lack of access to feminine hygiene in America. Again, I knew that these issues existed before, but in my mind, they did not exist so close to home. It was eye-opening when I realized that there were women in my community, in school, or in my neighborhood. But I had no idea how close to home it would hit until my aunt died from toxic shock syndrome. After the devastating earthquake in Haiti, she lost all of her belongings when her house crumbled, and because of this, she was forced to ration her pads and eventually use tampons that were sent over. Tampons are not commonly used in Haiti, so she had no way of knowing that leaving it in for even just an hour longer could have deadly consequences. She got infected and due to the country's poor healthcare system, succumbed to her illness and passed away. I wanted to change things, to be able to stop this from happening to anyone else, but aside from small care packages, I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Until I mentioned this to a teacher of mine and she suggested I start a non-profit. The task seemed daunting at first, but through doing my research I realized that this could soon become a reality. I then founded, Bleeding Hearts Across America. Within our first year, we were able to provide hygiene products to over 800 women and girls, aid over 3,000 people, and establish a local period pantry (a pantry where women in the community can come forward and grab whatever supplies they need for the month), bringing awareness to underprivileged/ underrepresented communities, and an advocate for the women who are not in a position to advocate for themselves. Through this experience, I discovered my love for helping others. Through creating this non-profit I was able to work with many amazing community members and organizations like Brave Church, Christ Fellowship, The Lotus Shelter for Women and Shelter, and Healthy Havanna. These foundations and churches helped me and motivated me to continue my journey and aid more people. This experience and this non-profit will always be a huge part of my life. I plan to continue not only advocating for women who aren’t able to advocate for themselves but also educating and empowering women to do the same for others.

My ideal bookshelf would have a wide variety of themes like fantasy, mystery, horror, Sci-Fi, period pieces, and so many more. I can read almost anything and everything and I would love to have a variety of books and themes on my shelf for whatever I am currently in the mood for. But, one theme in all of my favorite novels is romance. No matter the book, no matter the setting, no matter the theme, I cannot get enough of romance. I have always considered myself a romantic and was always drawn to romance novels. So, when books like "Punk 57" and "Ugly Love," started to trend on TikTok I was excited to have a whole array of books being recommended to me, and they did not disappoint. BookTok has encouraged and provoked this deep love for romance, but it has also changed a lot about what and how I read. Books like "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" and "Red Queen," quickly became must-haves in my collection. Their impact on me went further than I ever could have imagined. On the surface level, they opened my eyes to more complex genres of books, for example: Mystery romance, or fantasy horror. But, further than that BookTok has introduced me to a new community of book lovers and re-sparked my love of reading and writing. When I started high school I took a bit of a break from reading, but after seeing so many people talking about "Punk 57," I decided to give it a try and read the book. I loved it and quickly told my friends about it as well. After the success of that recommendation, I got more involved in the BookTok community and kept getting recommendations on my for-you-page. The community I discovered through this was amazing. I had never before been able to not only surround myself with fellow readers, but people who enjoyed also enjoyed the same genres as me. From the books I have read so far, my must haves would be, "Punk57, A Court of Thorns and Roses, Ugly Love, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Red Queen, and Ceirce." While these books are all seemingly different they all have had a major impact on not just the BookTok community, but the writing community in general. These books proved the power of BookTok and established these writers within their communities. Some authors saw their greatest sales through advertising on TikTok. Why is that important? BookTok marked a significant change in the writing profession, especially during the writer's strike. It proved to authors that they did not need to rely on old-fashioned ways of advertising their books, but it also proved to a whole new generation of writers that they did not have to go through means like a publisher to get their books out there and generate sales. Every new book that I read, or that I add to my shelf represents a change. I remember that reading fantasy or romance books like "Twilight" was considered something to be bullied for because it was not "real" literature. But now, a new generation of readers is being shown that they are not alone in the books that they enjoy. And by using a platform as big as TikTok, it also exposes and encourages more people to read and enjoy reading. BookTok reawakened my love of reading and helped me develop my passion for writing. Now, the book, inspired by BookTok, that I hope to have the most on my shelf is a book that I wrote and finished myself.

Period poverty: “lack of access to menstrual products, hygiene facilities, waste management, and education.” As a Haitian-American who regularly sent boxes of supplies to family in Haiti, I’d always known what it was, but never had a name for it. My first experience with period poverty was the infamous 2010 earthquake that devastated Haiti, not because I was personally there, but because of the effect it had on me - even in America. Many of my family lost their homes, all of their belongings, and their livelihoods. I will never forget the moment my mother got the call that her aunt had died. I later found out that it was from toxic shock syndrome. She had always had heavy menstrual cycles, and after losing all her belongings, she was forced to use the same tampon for almost 24 hours due to attempting to ration what she had left. Because tampon use was not common in Haiti, she had to use them because of her heavy menstrual cycle, most people did not know the dire consequences of using one for such an extended period. Unfortunately, this would not be an uncommon occurrence. While toxic shock syndrome is rare, humiliation, infection, and starvation were rampant in not just Haiti, but also, to my surprise, in America. Some women have to miss work or school because they lack necessary hygiene products. Others have to choose whether they feed themselves that day or buy a box of tampons, which despite being an unavoidable necessity, are taxed as luxury items. I wanted to change things, but aside from care packages, I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Until it was discussed at one of the clubs I participate in at school, Women of Tomorrow. At a meeting, we were discussing potentially hosting a period drive in school with the club, and that got me thinking. At first, I was discouraged that we would only be able to host the drive for one month, once a year, because people menstruate for more than just one month out of the year. I had wished at the time that it would be possible for the club to do more in the efforts of supporting and bringing awareness to women’s hygiene. That’s when I realized that I didn’t need to rely on a club in school to make this happen. I was more than capable of taking the initiative and doing this myself. So, I started looking into what would be the best ways to help and how I could get more people involved in my cause. Through this, I dove deeper into what a non-profit is. Though I had previous business experience, I had never done something like and from that point on I decided that that is what I wanted to do with the goal. The task seemed daunting at first, but through doing my research I realized that this could soon become a reality. I then founded, Bleeding Hearts Across America. Within our first year, we were able to provide hygiene products to over 1,000 women and girls, bringing awareness to underprivileged/underrepresented communities, and an advocate for the women who aren’t in a position to advocate for themselves. I plan to make the world a better place by continuing to not only advocate for women but also educate and empower women to do the same for others.

I was born in Port Au Prince Haiti, and I moved to America when I was about one and a half. I've always come from a huge family, my mom, dad, my five sisters, and my grandma. During high school, I was on the board of Debate, African Heritage Club, Italian Honor Society, and Creative Writing Club. I started a non-profit in my junior year of high school. I was inspired the more I learned about period poverty: “lack of access to menstrual products, hygiene facilities, waste management, and education.” I regularly sent boxes of supplies to family in Haiti, so I always knew what it was, but never had a name for it. My first experience with period poverty was the infamous 2010 earthquake that devastated Haiti, because of the effect it had on me - even in America. Many of my family lost their homes, belongings, and livelihoods. I will never forget the moment my mother got the call that her aunt had died. It was from toxic shock syndrome. After losing all her belongings, she was forced to use the same tampon for almost 24 hours due to attempting to ration what she had left. Because tampon use was not common in Haiti, she used them because of her heavy menstrual cycle, most people did not know the dire consequences of using one for such an extended period. Unfortunately, this would not be an uncommon occurrence. While toxic shock syndrome is rare, humiliation, infection, and starvation were rampant in not just Haiti, but also, to my surprise, in America. Some women have to miss work or school because they lack necessary hygiene products. Others have to choose whether they feed themselves that day or buy a box of tampons, which despite being an unavoidable necessity, are taxed as luxury items. I wanted to change things, but aside from care packages, I didn’t think there was anything I could do. Until it was discussed at one of the clubs I participate in at school, Women of Tomorrow. At a meeting, we were discussing potentially hosting a period drive in school with the club, and that got me thinking. At first, I was discouraged that we would only be able to host the drive once a year. I had wished it would be possible for the club to do more in the efforts of supporting and bringing awareness to women’s hygiene. That’s when I realized that I was more than capable of taking the initiative and doing this myself. So, I started looking into what would be the best ways to help and how I could get more people involved in my cause. Through this, I dove deeper into what a non-profit is. Though I had never done something like from that point on I decided that that is what I wanted to do with the goal. The task seemed daunting at first, but through doing my research I realized that this could become reality. I then founded, Bleeding Hearts Across America. We've been able to provide hygiene products to over 1,000 women, bring awareness to underprivileged/underrepresented communities, and advocate for the women who can't advocate for themselves. I plan to continue not only advocating for women but also educating and empowering women to do the same for others.

“AIDs,” “Vudoo,” “third-world,” and “wasteland.” That is what the country of Haiti has been diminished to. Those four words are the only description of Haiti that most people receive, the only story they’ve been shown. Despite this, I’ve always been proud to be Haitian. While there may be many disadvantages that come with being Haitian, like racism, colorism, and classism, never in my life have I hated being a Haitian American. Honestly, it wasn't till I entered my later years in elementary school that I realized how wrapped the world's views of Haiti were. Everyone assumed it was a country filled with aid-ridden citizens who were just desperately waiting for another country to step in and save them. Going beyond that, one could only imagine my surprise when I found out that other black people didn't recognize Haitians as real black people because they were all supposed to be "stuck up", and "full of themselves." I realized that the moment I told someone I was Haitian, an image of who I am as a person instantly clouded their vision of who I really was. But despite the comments, I would get on the food I would eat at lunch, the tasteless comments both teachers and students would make, and every other interaction for better or worse, I never felt ashamed of who I was. It’s this pride that led me to become a more open-minded person. I’ve seen how the media has distorted the public’s image of Haiti, and I’ve seen how their history has been spun from public knowledge, so I know to look at whatever I see on the news with a closer eye. I fully believe that if more people showed even the slightest bit of skepticism when reading/seeing something in the media, be it on the news, social media, or other platforms, and took the time to do their research, we would be much more tolerant and understanding. This is what motivated me to want to practice law. It happens all too often when justice isn’t properly served due to only one side of a story being presented. This is especially common within minority groups. My experience with only one side of myself or my culture being presented makes me more open-minded and less quick to judge. I believe that this is a trait that is especially important in the legal profession. It made me not only open-minded to other cultures, but also people, and I plan to carry this into law, taking advantage of every chance I get to learn more and challenge the one-sided story we’re often shown.

I struggled to answer this question for a while. I sat, staring at my blank screen, pondering about what adversities I've had in my life. My struggle wasn't with identifying my adversities, my struggle was with validating them. I've had many adversities in my life. As a black, Haitian-American, woman adversity is my birthright. One of the few guarantees that I was promised once I was born. So when I'm asked what adversity I've overcome in my life, it's difficult to pin one down. I first had to ask myself, what is adversity? The Oxford Learner's Dictionary defines adversity as, ​"a difficult or unpleasant situation." The bible describes adversity as, "God's way of getting our attention." But what does that mean for me? If adversity is God's way of getting my attention then what am I meant to be paying attention to? The first instance of adversity in my life was in elementary school. Growing up I lived in a predominantly white neighborhood and went to a predominately white school. I was often the only black student in my class and one of the few Haitian students in the school. Although I had friends, I never felt like I belonged. My hair was different, my body was different, and my culture was different. I was different. Over time I grew to resent those differences, evidently, I grew to resent myself. I'd always assumed that the reason something went wrong, the reason I got in trouble, and the reason I was always so angry, was because of me. I was the problem. While I won't exclude myself from all of the blame, I can't discredit the overarching adversity that would not only affect me in elementary school but would also plague the rest of my life. Racism. I didn't notice then, and even now sometimes I don't but it was and still is there. When you hear about racism you think about, slavery, about black people being beaten in the streets, about being called slurs. What you don't think about are the little things. Things like kids touching and pulling your hair, things like kids making fun of the food you're eating, things like your teachers choosing to believe that you're a liar, things like being told that you're too dark, things that no one sees. For years I was hesitant to refer to these instances as "racism" for fear of being deemed overdramatic. The title of "racism," belongs to more serious things... right? When I would come to my teachers or parents, I would be told that the kids were "playing around" and that I shouldn't take these things too seriously. Then I would retaliate and directly into their game. I had donned the label that they had assigned me, giving them an excuse to validate their assumptions. From my years in elementary, I learned two things. I learned that action does not equate to a reaction. I could defend myself without giving my opposers what they want. Composure does not mean giving up. Silent battles are still battles. I also learned that I need to love myself and where I come from. I didn't immediately start loving myself the moment I realized this, but being aware of the work I have to do leaves room for me to grow. If I had the chance to go back and undo everything that happened to me, I don't think I would. My adversities are what made me into what I am today, and unlike then, I'm proud of who I am. This is what God had been bringing to my attention.