My whole life I have contemplated the word different, yet now I choose that word when describing myself. As a young girl,whenever I would catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I felt confused but had a growing adolescent fascination. I wondered why my skin and eyes look different? In those moments, as I glanced at myself from head to toe, I didn't like what I saw. My appearance didn't fit the homogeneity of what I believed to be conventional due to the lack of diversity in media, literature, television shows, and even among my own teachers. Growing up in an austere Pentencostal, Nigerian household, I learned many lessons the hard way. Due to my curiosity and discongruity I developed a hatred for my lazy eye and dark skin. In preschool, if I saw a doll with Afro hair or dark skin I wouldn't even bat an eye. While dealing with issues with my race, eye contact was also a big issue for me and began to mandate my relationships with meeting new people. I found myself playing different characters at home versus at school. It felt like my world was a play on my identity and whether one or neither of those personas were really me. The juxtaposition of my two personas became a serious internal conflict for me. I wasn't able to talk about it with my parents or others around me because I assumed they would scrutinize me for how I felt because of their upbringing and how that is a bias for their reactions and judgements. My internal conflict started to become a bigger and bigger problem for me as I grew. The complex yet simple structure of my environment makes it that much harder in understanding and building my identity and therefore how I express myself. I am not sure to this day how it just clicked for me but diversity in media coverage was a big part of it. People such as Temiloluwa Otedola, Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan and Winnie Harlow gave and continue to give black people hope and appreciation of our culture and history. Now more and more attention is brought to making sure black women, men, boys, and girls are comfortable in their own skin and the other features that make them different. The newfound attention and media coverage has positively facilitated my journey and my career choice. My challenges with self and race have impacted and continue to impact my career aspirations. These challenges have opened my eyes to the lack of diversity of teachers in public high schools where the minority student population is surpassing that of Caucasians. As I enter college next school year, I aspire to be an education major and aim to be a secondary level teacher. Students need representation in their classes, so that they can feel comfortable talking about pressing issues that are caused just by the color of their skin or simply learning about the beauty of their skin. I am “different: distinct; separate”, but I don't let that affect my dreams or how I interact with people now.

As a young girl whenever I would catch a glimpse of my reflection, I felt confused but had a growing adolescent fascination. I wondered why my skin and eyes look different. In those moments, as I glanced at myself from head to toe, I didn't like what I saw. My appearance didn't fit the homogeneity of what I believed to be conventional due to the lack of diversity in media, literature, television shows, and even among my own teachers. Growing up in an austere Pentencostal, Nigerian household, I learned many lessons the hard way. Due to my curiosity and discongruity I developed a hatred for my lazy eye and dark skin. In preschool, if I saw a doll with Afro hair or dark skin I wouldn't even bat an eye. While dealing with issues with my race, eye contact was also a big issue for me and began to mandate my relationships with meeting new people. I found myself playing different characters at home versus at school. It felt like my world was a play on my identity and whether one or neither of those personas were really me. The juxtaposition of my two personas became a serious internal conflict for me. I wasn't able to talk about it with my parents or others around me because I assumed they would scrutinize me for how I felt because of their upbringing and how that is a bias for their reactions and judgements. My internal conflict started to become a bigger and bigger problem for me as I grew. The complex yet simple structure of my environment made it that much harder in understanding and building my identity and therefore how I expressed myself. This reminds me of one morning in particular, On Saturday, March 25, 2017-- it was like any other day: I woke up, went to the bathroom and took extra long to look at myself in the mirror that day. As I looked at myself something changed. Time slowed-- the moment may have lasted about thirty seconds but it felt like an eternity. So many thoughts were rushing through my head --- “My skin is beautiful, Deborah you are beautiful, you are different... it's time to accept it.” Now more and more attention is brought to making sure black women, men, boys, and girls are comfortable in their own skin and the other features that make them different. My challenges with self and race have impacted and continue to impact my career aspirations. These challenges have opened my eyes to the lack of diversity of teachers in public high schools where the minority student population is surpassing that of Caucasians. As I enter college next school year, I aspire to be an education major and aim to be a secondary level teacher. Students need representation in their classes, so that they can feel comfortable talking about pressing issues that are caused just by the color of their skin or simply learning about the beauty of their skin.

Different My whole life I have contemplated the word different, yet now I choose that word when describing myself. As a young girl whenever I would catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I felt confused but had a growing adolescent fascination. I wondered why my skin and eyes look different? In those moments, as I glanced at myself from head to toe, I didn't like what I saw. My appearance didn't fit the homogeneity of what I believed to be conventional due to the lack of diversity in media, literature, television shows, and even among my own teachers. Growing up in an austere Pentencostal, Nigerian household, I learned many lessons the hard way. Due to my curiosity and discongruity I developed a hatred for my lazy eye and dark skin. In preschool, if I saw a doll with Afro hair or dark skin I wouldn't even bat an eye. While dealing with issues with my race, eye contact was also a big issue for me and began to mandate my relationships with meeting new people. I found myself playing different characters at home versus at school. It felt like my world was a play on my identity and whether one or neither of those personas were really me. The juxtaposition of my two personas became a serious internal conflict for me. I wasn't able to talk about it with my parents or others around me because I assumed they would scrutinize me for how I felt because of their upbringing and how that is a bias for their reactions and judgements. My internal conflict started to become a bigger and bigger problem for me as I grew. The complex yet simple structure of my environment makes it that much harder in understanding and building my identity and therefore how I express myself. This reminds me of one morning in particular, On Saturday, March 25, 2017-- it was like any other day: I woke up, went to the bathroom and took extra long to look at myself in the mirror that day. As I looked at myself something changed. Time slowed-- the moment may have lasted about thirty seconds but it felt like an eternity. So many thoughts were rushing through my head --- “My skin is beautiful, Deborah you are beautiful, you are different... it's time to accept it.” I am not sure to this day how it just clicked for me but diversity in media coverage was a big part of it. People such as Temiloluwa Otedola, Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan and Winnie Harlow gave and continue to give black people hope and appreciation of our culture and history. Now more and more attention is brought to making sure black women, men, boys, and girls are comfortable in their own skin and the other features that make them different. The newfound attention and media coverage has positively facilitated my journey and my career choice. I am “different: distinct; separate”, but I don't let that affect my dreams or how I interact with people now.

Different My whole life I have contemplated the word different, yet now I choose that word when describing myself. As a young girl, whenever I would catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I felt confused but had a growing adolescent fascination. I wondered why my skin and eyes look different? In those moments, as I glanced at myself from head to toe, I didn't like what I saw. My appearance didn't fit the homogeneity of what I believed to be conventional due to the lack of diversity in media, literature, television shows, and even among my own teachers. Growing up in an austere Pentencostal, Nigerian household, I learned many lessons the hard way. Due to my curiosity and discongruity I developed a hatred for my lazy eye and dark skin. In preschool, if I saw a doll with Afro hair or dark skin I wouldn't even bat an eye. While dealing with issues with my race, eye contact was also a big issue for me and began to mandate my relationships with meeting new people. I found myself playing different characters at home versus at school. It felt like my world was a play on my identity and whether one or neither of those personas were really me. The juxtaposition of my two personas became a serious internal conflict for me. I wasn't able to talk about it with my parents or others around me because I assumed they would scrutinize me for how I felt because of their upbringing and how that is a bias for their reactions and judgements. My internal conflict started to become a bigger and bigger problem for me as I grew. The complex yet simple structure of my environment makes it that much harder in understanding and building my identity and therefore how I express myself. This reminds me of one morning in particular, On Saturday, March 25, 2017-- it was like any other day: I woke up, went to the bathroom and took extra long to look at myself in the mirror that day. As I looked at myself something changed. Time slowed-- the moment may have lasted about thirty seconds but it felt like an eternity. So many thoughts were rushing through my head --- “My skin is beautiful, Deborah you are beautiful, you are different... it's time to accept it.” I am not sure to this day how it just clicked for me but diversity in media coverage was a big part of it. People such as Temiloluwa Otedola, Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan and Winnie Harlow gave and continue to give black people hope and appreciation of our culture and history. Now more and more attention is brought to making sure black women, men, boys, and girls are comfortable in their own skin and the other features that make them different. The newfound attention and media coverage has positively facilitated my journey and my career choice. I am “different: distinct; separate.”

Different My whole life I have contemplated the word different, yet now I choose that word when describing myself. As a young girl, whenever I would catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I felt confused but had a growing adolescent fascination. I wondered why my skin and eyes look different? In those moments, as I glanced at myself from head to toe, I didn't like what I saw. My appearance didn't fit the homogeneity of what I believed to be conventional due to the lack of diversity in media, literature, television shows, and even among my own teachers. Growing up in an austere Pentencostal, Nigerian household, I learned many lessons the hard way. Due to my curiosity and discongruity I developed a hatred for my lazy eye and dark skin. In preschool, if I saw a doll with Afro hair or dark skin I wouldn't even bat an eye. While dealing with issues with my race, eye contact was also a big issue for me and began to mandate my relationships with meeting new people. I found myself playing different characters at home versus at school. It felt like my world was a play on my identity and whether one or neither of those personas were really me. The juxtaposition of my two personas became a serious internal conflict for me. I wasn't able to talk about it with my parents or others around me because I assumed they would scrutinize me for how I felt because of their upbringing and how that is a bias for their reactions and judgements. My internal conflict started to become a bigger and bigger problem for me as I grew. The complex yet simple structure of my environment makes it that much harder in understanding and building my identity and therefore how I express myself. This reminds me of one morning in particular, On Saturday, March 25, 2017-- it was like any other day: I woke up, went to the bathroom and took extra long to look at myself in the mirror that day. As I looked at myself something changed. Time slowed-- the moment may have lasted about thirty seconds but it felt like an eternity. So many thoughts were rushing through my head --- “My skin is beautiful, Deborah you are beautiful, you are different... it's time to accept it.” I am not sure to this day how it just clicked for me but diversity in media coverage was a big part of it. People such as Temiloluwa Otedola, Chadwick Boseman, Michael B. Jordan and Winnie Harlow gave and continue to give black people hope and appreciation of our culture and history. Now more and more attention is brought to making sure black women, men, boys, and girls are comfortable in their own skin and the other features that make them different. The newfound attention and media coverage has positively facilitated my journey and my career choice. My challenges with self and race have impacted and continue to impact my career aspirations. These challenges have opened my eyes to the lack of diversity of teachers in public high schools where the minority student population is surpassing that of Caucasians. As I enter college next school year, I aspire to be an education major and aim to be a secondary level teacher. Students need representation in their classes, so that they can feel comfortable talking about pressing issues that are caused just by the color of their skin or simply learning about the beauty of their skin. I am “different: distinct; separate”, but I don't let that affect my dreams or how I interact with people now.