Breaking the Silence: My Mental Health, My Mission For a long time, I believed silence was survival. I was taught (directly and indirectly) that if I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to be composed. If I wanted to be successful, I had to be strong. And if I wanted to be safe, I couldn’t speak about the things that hurt me. But the truth is, the silence nearly consumed me. I live with clinical depression, generalized and social anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) stemming from childhood sexual trauma. For years, these conditions shaped my life in quiet, invisible ways. I struggled to concentrate, to trust, and to feel worthy. I became a master of performance; on the outside, I was the student leader, the achiever, the friend with the answers. On the inside, I was unraveling. It wasn’t until college that I began to untangle the difference between surviving and healing. And in that journey, I found not only my voice but also my mission. Today, I’m a psychology major at Howard University, minoring in child and maternal health and legal communications. I chose this path because I want to be part of the movement to destigmatize mental health, particularly in Black communities and among survivors. My lived experience isn’t something I hide anymore; it’s the foundation for my purpose. I know what it’s like to feel isolated by trauma, to fear judgment for simply needing help. That’s why I’ve made it my goal to create spaces where people don’t have to carry their pain in silence. One of the most transformative parts of my healing has been service. Through the Petey Greene Program, I tutor incarcerated high school students at the Maya Angelou Academy inside the D.C. Youth Services Center. Many of these young people are dealing with trauma, just like I was. Many have been failed by the very systems that should have protected them: education, health care, and justice. I don’t walk into that classroom as someone who has it all figured out; I walk in as someone who understands what it means to be hurting and to still want more. Tutoring in that space has deepened my compassion and sharpened my commitment. I’ve learned that mental health work isn’t always a diagnosis or a therapist’s office; it’s also being consistent, being present, and believing in people who have been told they don’t matter. These students remind me every day that healing is collective. That trust, patience, and care are radical acts, especially in places designed to punish, not nurture. My experiences with depression, anxiety, and PTSD have changed the way I build relationships. I’ve had to learn what safety feels like. I’ve had to rewire the part of me that believes love is conditional. This process hasn’t been linear; there have been setbacks, relapses, and days where just getting out of bed felt impossible. But each time I ask for help, each time I let someone see me as I really am, I rebuild something stronger than before. I’ve also learned the importance of boundaries, rest, and self-compassion. These tools are just as essential as any textbook or therapy session. My mental health journey has also reshaped my understanding of justice. I used to think justice was only about law or policy, things that happen in courtrooms or on Capitol Hill. Now, I know that justice also lives in how we care for one another. It's in making therapy accessible, in creating trauma-informed schools, and in refusing to shame people for being human. I plan to become a public defense attorney focused on youth justice and racial equity, with a specific focus on mental health-informed advocacy. I want to help dismantle the school-to-prison pipeline, expand access to culturally competent care, and uplift the voices of those who’ve been silenced by trauma and stigma. Destigmatizing mental health means telling the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. It means pushing back against the idea that vulnerability is weakness. And it means creating institutions that don't just respond to crisis but actively foster healing. As someone who has lived through the things I study, I bring both empathy and urgency to this work. I don’t just want to understand mental health disparities; I want to challenge the systems that create them. Howard has given me the tools to deepen that work. Through classes, student organizing, and community engagement, I’ve built a foundation for advocacy that is both strategic and personal. I’ve worked to improve access to mental health resources on campus, mentored students navigating academic and emotional pressure, and used my platform in mock trial and legal writing to highlight issues like racial trauma and reproductive justice. Everything I do is rooted in the belief that healing is a human right. Receiving this scholarship would be an affirmation that my voice matters. That my pain, and the purpose it’s helped shape, are worth honoring. I’m no longer hiding from my story. I’m building with it every single day. Because I am not broken, I’m becoming.

Healing as Justice: My Commitment to Mental Health in Marginalized Communities As a psychology major at Howard University with minors in child and maternal health and legal communications, I view mental health not just as a clinical issue but as a justice issue, especially in marginalized communities where trauma is often layered, generational, and undertreated. My academic and professional goals are grounded in one belief: that healing should be accessible, affirming, and rooted in care for those most impacted by inequality. My work with the Petey Greene Program at the Youth Services Center in Washington, D.C., has deeply shaped this vision. As a volunteer tutor for incarcerated high school students, I’ve witnessed firsthand the emotional toll that systemic neglect, instability, and incarceration have on young people. Many of the students I work with come into the classroom already carrying trauma; some are diagnosed, but most are ignored. They are resilient, bright, and deserving of more than what society has offered them. Through tutoring, I create space for consistency, encouragement, and growth, but what we’re really building together is a foundation of trust, one of the most important components of mental health care. This work has made it clear to me that our systems often punish trauma rather than treat it. I want to help change that. I aspire to become a public defense attorney and mental health advocate focused on dismantling the school-to-prison pipeline, expanding access to trauma-informed care, and uplifting community-based alternatives to incarceration. My approach to advocacy is holistic: I see mental health care, education, and legal reform as interconnected forces for healing and empowerment. My interest in mental health is not just academic; it’s personal. Like many young Black women, I’ve constantly navigated spaces where strength was expected and vulnerability was discouraged. I’ve worked hard to unlearn that and to build a more honest relationship with my own mental health. That journey has made me more compassionate, more patient, and more committed to ensuring that others don’t have to struggle in silence. Mental health is deeply tied to voice, agency, and safety. My activism, both in and outside of the classroom, is centered on making sure marginalized people, especially Black youth, are heard, supported, and believed. At Howard, I’ve combined my academic training with real-world advocacy. Whether I’m engaging in campus organizing around mental health access, mentoring peers in mock trial, or writing about the intersections of race, gender, and trauma in my classes, I bring a mental health lens to everything I do. I believe the strongest leaders are the ones who listen, reflect, and advocate for change from a place of empathy. This scholarship would support not just my education, but my mission: to help cultivate a world where mental health care is treated as a human right, not a privilege. Through legal reform, policy work, and direct community engagement, I plan to help reimagine care for those who have too often been left behind