Pivotal moments in our lives and our histories are transcribed and often retold through letters, or some form of written structure that allows our reality and experiences to be shared with others. When the world of the future has come, written documents with regaling and sometimes incorrigible tells of our past will be all that is left to share. When we first learn to read, along the way we must also gain the ability to write. Though the path of writing has a journey all on its own, its impact and numerous forms bring people of life together. My direction in the world of writing changed as I counted to age. My life and interests continued to convert. Despite all that, the curiosity and delight of the idea of writing had been kept at the forefront of my mind since I was a child. The stories written, both untold and told have only driven me to a deeper connection with the writing community. Words are a powerful creation. They tear down or build up an individual. They can bring forth pain or joy. Our creativity is everlasting, being able to immerse ourselves into a world we create and can be proud of is how we know that we are on the right track. Words can motivate and inspire us. My passionate resolve toward writing was the one thing I never questioned. Now the age of finding a career in the writing world will soon come to pass. I’ve had numerous routes and gone through just as many changes about what I want to do. The intrigue in writing was coupled with my love of reading, but also inventing my own stories. The journey of being sucked into a world of fiction, getting an exhilarating feeling of when you get so lost in it that you forget that it's not real and that you have been reading for hours on end. Every step and every difficulty has led me to a true passion that I truly can envision myself with. The art of publishing and editing. Along the way, with my dedication to creating tales of my own, I embraced my desire to not only explore my writing but help others with the aspiration in life to publish theirs too. The limitless excursions and boundless way that writing has of bringing out the out-of-the-box thinking, is what makes it so appealing. The idea of envisioning something and bringing it to life is what allows the world of writing to continue to prosper. Whether that be by letter, poetry, or even stories. Everyone can relate to the words on the pages, even if they didn’t write it.

We all are born in this world with a cry springing from our lips. Surrounded by those who are meant to cherish and accept us. What a beautiful child born into a world engrossed with the love its family could muster. One person in life can change all things around you, and the way you see. They shape who we are. Our reality and expectations may not always come easy but they teach us many things in return. The day my nephew was born was when everything changed. A middle child. I’ve always shared what I owned. Or I was given what was once owned by others. My sister and I always shared a room, all our lives. Things changed when it was discovered that she was pregnant, and then suddenly I was out of the room. My sweet nephew wasn't who I blamed. That boy brought out a part of me that would’ve withered away as I got older had he not been there. I think throughout my middle school experience, I was moving from every room in the house. I slept on the floor, the couch, and even my brother's bed. He only had one. I felt uncomfortable being in my home. Things needed to change. So I left. And the reality of my moving out did not mean that I loved my mom or my siblings any less, I just knew I needed space in a place to call my own. I had moved in with my grandmother the summer before my sophomore year. I didn’t see as much of my little nephew as I did when I lived there. The whole chaotic and non-stop movement was gone. I missed all the laughs and getting food thrown at me. It was weird and I relished being woken up at 9 a.m. to him wanting to play. From having karaoke sessions to attempting to get him to eat his food. Though in a moment of clarity, I knew what I was doing was what was best for me. It took me on a path and made me understand what I was missing and not to take for granted the little things especially when there are little ones in the house who grow up way too fast. I also knew that I wanted to show him that even though it’s difficult that it’s important to be true to yourself. Without him and my whole clan, it made me reminisce about the times over. It made me think more about my childhood and how that one little kid affected my life so much and everything around him. He may not even realize it yet but I wouldn’t be where I am without the light he brought into my world on that one day. We take for granted those we value most. Our families are those that ground us and bring out who we are. Family doesn’t need to be blood but those who you make connections with and can relate to. They motivate us with bettering ourselves, and not being afraid of branching into the world. No one prepares you for the big moments in life, it's as though they come as a great surprise or like a slap in the face. Both met with a variety of different results and they aren’t always bad, sometimes it's exactly what you need at the moment. If only we realized that family is life and it's a heavily important connection that anyone could make. Everything else that comes after is paramount to the connection we may or may not have.

Mocha Skin There’s no slang when you speak, but your accent leaves a mid-western feel. No bass in your voice, nor a high-pitched squeal. You allow such eloquence to show, i’m not sure you know the word though. Your voice speaks of uniqueness and contradictions where’d you learn it from, I wonder. Your actually quite smart I didn’t expect to encounter such A smart one of your kind oh, such a sweet little black girl. Must you demean when offering a “compliment” do you look at me and expect less, then shocked when you discover more. Perched upon a pedestal reaching the skies i’ve looked down on men that don’t know my talents, Nor what lies behind. Black girl with Mocha eyes Your little words won’t bring down the walls i’ve built. Nor disregard the sunshine in my eyes my smile ever bright with achievements met at an unparalleled high. You may scream toward the mountains while you try to force me to hide I’m screaming from the clouds Prepared to fight for my life. You may see me as one thing but don’t think I will cower I’ve lived eighteen years on this world best believe I’m a fighter. You’re blinded by your own prejudice I’ve been gifted with a sight to see that all life is relevant Never judge a book by its cover they say yet you do the same and you don’t even know my name. With the weight of the world on my shoulders, you try to hold me back, don’t think you can break me, I come from a stronger foundation than that.

Growing up, I knew who I was and what I wanted to be. My school year would be spent in and out of the classroom. You would normally find me running up and down the school attending numerous classes and after-school clubs. On weekends I would be volunteering at the tutoring center, helping young children in pre-k through fifth grade. It was amazing being able to be a part of these activities that were both invigorating and entertaining. The cacophony of rowdy children after a good day and unstoppable laughter was a familiar sound that I grew quite fond of. I was always a team player, whether it was having to stay late after school or continuing to work with a child one on one until they understand it. Always with a contagious smile on my face. But that was only me on the surface. The only one I allowed others to see. Deep down, I was an anxiety-riddled obsessive overthinker with mental health issues. When I realized I had anxiety before being diagnosed by a doctor I was feeling relieved but also cramped and uneasy. I was happy to finally have a label for the way I feel; I concluded that with this label I would become stable and my issues would magically become 'fixed'. The way I acted, I would randomly have breakdowns over something either big or small because I was overthinking over something not worth it. I can recall a time that my friend commented on my appearance that was supposed to be lighthearted, it's just to me the way and circumstance that she said it had me questioning myself and not being comfortable with how I looked. I tried to forget about it throughout the day but I couldn’t. I continued to spiral from there when I returned home by yelling and throwing things till I eventually fell asleep. It wasn't healthy the way I coped with my pain. Whenever I was experiencing a panic attack I would scrutinize myself and even go as far as to curl my fist and repeatedly hit myself on the head. I came up with false narratives that I knew weren't true but my state of mind was unable to comprehend what I was trying to tell it. I had realized that I needed help outside of just myself when the tragic death of my grandfather affected me more than I believed. When my mother found me in my room on the floor curled into a ball crying, she didn’t understand what was wrong with me. When I began muttering under my breath and shaking my head, she started to get disturbed. I felt horrible that I was doing this to her and when she managed to get me to calm down, I told her that I needed to get help; it took so much in me to admit that. In six months, I got comfortable with my therapist and even parts of myself. I was able to talk to her about certain issues that I wasn’t comfortable enough to tell my family about. She opened the door for me to get it all out in the open at a pace that best fit my needs. While it took me some time to open up with what I was feeling, I was grateful that she didn’t judge me. I discovered coping mechanisms, like the grounding techniques, that were much more beneficial. Sometimes my anxiety can be like a wave–overwhelming and huge, but sometimes small and not as impactful. I figured out that I could either swim and fight it or hide behind it. The person that I am is ever-changing; I don't know where I'll be. The person that I was then shaped who I am now and who I hope to continue to be in the future. I am passionate about my writing and the stories that come from them. When I'm reading a story, the best thing is when you get so lost in it that you forget that it's not real and that you have been reading for hours on end. It feels exhilarating to get lost in a story, it feels even better when you read a story of your own and when others read it, they feel as though they could get lost as well. I haven't figured out what I want to do but, I know writing has to be involved. I have been interested in screenwriting, journalism, and even writing my own book someday. On my journey to looking for my next step, I came across Full Sail. The new environment and the degree programs they offered were appealing as they allowed me to see the different fields and expand on the direction I want to go in. I am a first-generation college student. Moving away from home to a place that will allow me to not only broaden and sharpen my skills but will continue to flourish and fully express the person that I am. In the fall of 2022, I will be attending Full Sail University with a focus on Creative Writing. This certain degree doesn't just focus on one field but multiple so that any direction one chooses to go in they would be prepared. As of now, my career path is unclear I am open to exploring multiple fields. and attending this university without having to worry about being limited and controlled to one set destination that could possibly weigh me down. My impact in this world has started small and as I got older, I learned the importance of words and the impact that it has. Words are powerful. They can tear down or build up an individual. They can bring joy or they can bring pain. Words can motivate and inspire us. I knew this was something I would be doing for the rest of my life. While my words only impact a certain few the realization that it affects anyone makes me want to create even more.

My school year would be spent in and out of the classroom. You would normally find me running up and down the school attending numerous classes and after-school clubs. On weekends I would be volunteering at the tutoring center, helping young children in pre-k through fifth grade. It was amazing being able to be a part of these activities that were both invigorating and entertaining. The cacophony of rowdy children after a good day and unstoppable laughter was a familiar sound that I grew quite fond of. I was always a team player, whether it was having to stay late after school or continuing to work with a child one on one. Always with a contagious smile on my face. I am passionate about my writing and the stories that come from them. When I'm reading a story, the best thing is when you get so lost in it that you forget it's not real and that you have been reading for hours on end. It's exhilarating to get lost in a story, it feels even better when you read a story of your own and when others read it, they feel as though they could get lost as well. I haven't figured out what I want to do but, I know writing has to be involved. I`m interested in journalism and writing my own book someday. On my journey to looking for my next step, I came across Full Sail. The new environment and the degree programs they offered were appealing as they allowed me to see the different fields and expand on the direction I want to go in. I am a first-generation college student. Moving away from home to a place that will allow me to not only broaden and sharpen my skills but will continue to flourish and fully express the person that I am. Being able to write that has helped me grow into the person that I want to be while interacting with those who look like me and are in the same situation as well. I enjoyed the sense of belonging. I was allowed to explore my need to reach out into the community, the personal satisfaction that I received in creating my stories and sharing them, and continuing to broaden my knowledge in the process, I also learned about myself. I understood that while I wasn’t the most conversational person I always jumped at the chance to help someone no matter if it was big or small. I have made connections and friendships with those that I have encountered, writing has helped me gain new skills necessary for my future such as adaptability, communication skills, discipline, and dependability. I will be attending Full Sail University with a focus on Creative Writing. This degree doesn't focus on one field but multiple so that any direction one chooses to go in they would be prepared. I am open to exploring multiple fields. and attending this university without having to worry about being limited and controlled to one set destination that could possibly weigh me down. My impact in this world has started small and as I got older, I learned the importance of words and the impact that it has. Words are powerful. They can tear down or build up an individual. They can bring joy or they can bring pain. Words can motivate and inspire us. I knew this was something I would be doing for the rest of my life. While my words only impact a certain few the realization that it affects anyone makes me want to create even more.

Growing up, I knew who I was and what I wanted to be. You would normally find me running up and down the school attending numerous classes and after-school clubs. On weekends I would be volunteering at the tutoring center. It was amazing being able to be a part of these activities that were both invigorating and entertaining. The cacophony of rowdy children after a good day and unstoppable laughter was a familiar sound that I grew quite fond of. I was always a team player, whether it was having to stay late after school or working with a child one on one until they understand it. Always with a contagious smile on my face. But that was only me on the surface. The only one I allowed others to see. Deep down, I was an anxiety-riddled obsessive overthinker with mental health issues. When I realized I had anxiety before being diagnosed by a doctor I was feeling relieved but also cramped and uneasy. I was happy to finally have a label for the way I feel; I concluded that with this label I would become stable and my issues would magically become 'fixed'. The way I acted, I would randomly have breakdowns over something either big or small because I was overthinking over something not worth it. I can recall a time that my friend commented on my appearance that was supposed to be lighthearted, it's just to me the way and circumstance that she said it had me questioning myself and not being comfortable with how I looked. I tried to forget about it throughout the day but I couldn’t. I continued to spiral when I returned home I was yelling and throwing things till I eventually fell asleep. It wasn't healthy the way I coped with my pain. Whenever I was experiencing a panic attack I would scrutinize myself and even go as far as to curl my fist and repeatedly hit myself on the head. I came up with false narratives that I knew weren't true but my state of mind was unable to comprehend what I was trying to tell it. I had realized that I needed help outside of just myself when the tragic death of my grandfather affected me more than I believed. When my mother found me in my room on the floor curled into a ball crying, she didn’t understand what was wrong with me. When I began muttering under my breath and shaking my head, she started to get disturbed. I felt horrible that I was doing this to her and when she managed to get me to calm down, I told her that I needed to get help; it took so much in me to admit that. In six months, I got comfortable with my therapist and even parts of myself. I was able to talk to her about certain issues that I wasn’t comfortable enough to tell my family about. She opened the door for me to get it all out in the open at a pace that best fit my needs. While it took me some time to open up with what I was feeling, I was grateful that she didn’t judge me. I discovered coping mechanisms, like the grounding techniques. Sometimes my anxiety can be like a wave–overwhelming and huge, but sometimes small and not as impactful. I figured out that I could either swim and fight it or hide behind it. The person that I am is ever-changing; I don't know where I'll be. The person that I was then shaped who I am now.

What joy means to me is being able to live your life in the best and most enjoyable way possible no matter the circumstance you are in. I seek it out with just being myself and knowing the person that I am while allowing myself to be within the moment and not take things for granted. I can understand that joy is not an everyday experience, that it comes and goes just as quickly as clapping your hand. I enjoy reading books and creating my own stories. I enjoy painting, singing, and spending time with my family. All these little things that I experience are just another part of what makes me happy and who I am. When happiness is present, it’s almost bigger than life. It feels breathtaking, and nothing feels better or seems worthy of attention. Joy is so important: it is one of the things that make life worth living. It keeps us going in hard times that we would like not to remember; it connects us to other people; it appears when we are being our very best selves. The more joy we can bring into our world, the better we will be.

Growing up, I knew who I was and what I wanted to be. My school year would be spent in and out of the classroom. You would normally find me running up and down the school attending numerous classes and after-school clubs. On weekends I would be volunteering at the tutoring center, helping young children in pre-k through fifth grade. It was amazing being able to be a part of these activities that were both invigorating and entertaining. The cacophony of rowdy children after a good day and unstoppable laughter was a familiar sound that I grew quite fond of. I was always a team player, whether it was having to stay late after school or continuing to work with a child one on one until they understand it. Always with a contagious smile on my face. But that was only me on the surface. The only one I allowed others to see. Deep down, I was an anxiety-riddled obsessive overthinker with mental health issues. When I realized I had anxiety before being diagnosed by a doctor I was feeling relieved but also cramped and uneasy. I was happy to finally have a label for the way I feel; I concluded that with this label I would become stable and my issues would magically become 'fixed'. The way I acted, I would randomly have breakdowns over something either big or small because I was overthinking over something not worth it. I can recall a time that my friend commented on my appearance that was supposed to be lighthearted, it's just to me the way and circumstance that she said it had me questioning myself and not being comfortable with how I looked. I tried to forget about it throughout the day but I couldn’t. I continued to spiral from there when I returned home by yelling and throwing things till I eventually fell asleep. I never understood why I felt this way, I assumed I was crazy. One day I'm fine and then the next thing I know I'm lying on the floor curled into a ball crying my eyes out. It wasn't healthy the way I coped with my pain. Whenever I was experiencing a panic attack I would scrutinize myself and even go as far as to curl my fist and repeatedly hit myself on the head. I came up with false narratives that I knew weren't true but my state of mind was unable to comprehend what I was trying to tell it. I had realized that I needed help outside of just myself when the tragic death of my grandfather affected me more than I believed. When my mother found me in my room on the floor curled into a ball crying she didn’t understand what was wrong with me, when I began muttering under my breath and shaking my head she started to get disturbed. I felt horrible that I was doing this to her and when she managed to get me to calm down, I told her that I needed to get help; it took so much in me to admit that. I was diagnosed with anxiety and panic disorder. In six months, I got comfortable with my therapist and even parts of myself. I was able to talk to her about certain issues that I wasn’t comfortable enough to tell my family about. She opened up the door for me to get it all out in the open at a pace that best fit my needs. While it took me some time to open up with what I was feeling I was grateful that she didn’t judge me. I discovered coping mechanisms that were much more beneficial like the grounding techniques. Sometimes my anxiety can be like a wave overwhelming and huge, and sometimes small and not as impactful. I figured out that I could either swim and fight it or hide behind it. The person that I am is ever-changing, I don't know where I'll be. The person that I was then and shaped who I am now and who hope to continue to be in the future.

What drove my interest in going to college is that I want to accomplish what many in my family couldn't and make them proud as being the first-generation college graduate in the family they see me walk across the stage, and I don't want to experience not having a so-called "proper education" to affect my future. I admire the women in my family. They have brought me up to be a strong black woman. They allowed me to be myself and experience life without much restraint, these women I grew up with all embody the type of person I want to be. I understood that sometimes the world would be out to get people with my skin tone and that any advancement or opportunity that happens must be taken advantage of. I cannot wait to make my mark on this world.

Do you ever find yourself reflecting on that one experience you never wanted to do, but that has had the greatest impact on your life? Growing up, religion was a big part of my life. Every Sunday my family and I would go to church, but I never felt connected to it as my family did. Being young, I was taught that you should go to church because that is what's expected. However. I had not yet understood what the connection was that I was missing. I never really understood anything about it or how and why it was important to my family. WIth this in my mind, my grandmother had introduced me to a choir that my church had started for teenagers. At first, I was very skeptical about it. I thought it was going to be some sort of bible study that just taught you about the fundamentals of faith, but soon I realized that it was much more than that. After joining the choir, I learned so much about myself. Surrounded by teenagers and adults who understand the struggle with their faith and weren't irritated or confused by it, by being in this choir it allowed me to be open with myself and others about the struggles that I faced. Having a new outlet has also allowed me to step outside of my comfort zone and do things I never would have done without force. I still remember the first meeting. There were about thirty other teenagers there but I still felt uneasy. I wasn't sure what to expect. Up until this point I had convinced myself that for the next couple of hours I was going to be preached to with fury of fire and brimstone. However, I was taken by surprise. The choir director seemed to understand who we were as teenagers on the verge of becoming adults. She knew the worry and challenges of being a teenager and discovering your faith and identity in the process. Growing up, I felt as though no one understood what I was going through so I kept it to myself, struggling on the inside. what I was going through so I kept it to myself struggling on the inside, especially being around a religious family and not feeling connected to it as they are. I would need more fingers if I had to count the number of times I've questioned my faith, I know Having faith is a way to cope with loss and uncertainty in a strange world but I've experienced so much loss it made me want to question everything I knew. Participating in this choir, while unexpected, turned into such a beneficial and phenomenal experience. I never would have come to terms with my faith and eventually, be comfortable with it without being in this choir surrounded by people who were going through what I was.

Growing up, religion was a big part of my life. Every Sunday my family and I would go to church, but I never felt connected to it as my family did. I was taught that you should go to church because that is what's expected. I had not yet understood what the connection was that I was missing. I never really understood anything about it or why it was important to my family. My grandmother had introduced me to a choir that my church had started for teenagers. At first, I was very skeptical about it. I thought it was going to be some sort of bible study that just taught you about faith, but I realized that it was more than that. After joining the choir, I learned so much about myself. Surrounded by teenagers and adults who understand the struggle with their faith and weren't irritated by it, being in this choir it allowed me to be open with myself and others about the struggles that I faced. Having a new outlet has also allowed me to step outside of my comfort zone and do things I never would have done. At the first meeting, there were about thirty other teenagers there but I still felt uneasy. I was taken by surprise. The choir director seemed to understand who we were as teenagers on the verge of becoming adults. I felt as though no one understood what I was going through so I kept it to myself, struggling on the inside. what I was going through so I kept it to myself struggling on the inside, especially being around a religious family and not feeling connected to it as they are. Participating in this choir, while unexpected, turned into such a beneficial and phenomenal experience.