The biggest lesson I’ve learned from being in my school’s student council is that the most difficult choices aren’t always made in front of a crowd, facing a podium, but also the choices made in solitude. During each election, my leadership and self-confidence have been tested, being taught that winning isn’t and shouldn’t be the sole goal. However, fighting the internal and external doubt that persists when putting yourself out there is the real test of strength. Between the voice in my head and that of those around me, I had a choice. Walking through the halls, I felt not only the pressure that came with having to go up against my own peers, but also the criticism that persisted throughout the election season. It became easy for my mind to get clouded by the words of others who attempted to diminish my abilities. Being told by even my own friends that it would be in my best interest to double down by clapping back, in an effort to put an end to the conversations that were brewing at school. To some, like those in my circle, my lack of immediate action implied that a part of me believed that what was being said about me was true. Being surrounded by such conflicting views, I had to make a difficult decision. By allowing myself to sit and reflect on which choice would fulfill me the most, I gave my inner voice the stage to be the biggest influence on my actions. Regardless of what those around me said, my self-confidence in both my abilities and character was stronger than the forces around me. I kept this in mind moving forward, even if that meant that there was a chance that the outcome of my efforts would not be in my favor. Keeping my head held high and choosing to trust myself, I continued to put my best foot forward throughout the election, not allowing negativity and nitpicking to consume me or stop me from achieving my goal. Instead of taking the easy route out, I let my actions speak louder than my words, earning my classmates' trust and support to continue representing them. The phrase, “Not all stars must fall,” to me is a testament that I shouldn’t dim my own light for others, and allow my inner voice to shine, showing who I am. As I grow and enter new spaces, like college, I know I’ll continue to give that voice within me the microphone. That same voice acts as my light, helping to guide me to make decisions that come from deep thought and evaluation, rather than acting on impulse. Being met with adversity and challenges in the past has given me the emotional strength and maturity to continue to work past any negativity or judgment that comes my way in an attempt to slow me down. With this, I can say with full confidence that I’m well-equipped to take on any challenge that comes my way headfirst, continuing to take space, paving a way for myself and those who come after me.

Walking anywhere through my city, it’s common to see lines that never seem to get any shorter wrap around the street at the local food pantry. The elderly push carts full of recyclable items through rain or shine, with crooked smiles painted on their faces as they remain determined to make ends meet. Liquor stores and marijuana dispensaries are on every corner you turn, some even placed across the street from elementary schools. Taking a step back and viewing the issues I see in my community through an empathetic lens is a perspective not many hold. Instead of seeking to change the systemic structures that keep people trapped in these cycles of poverty, the blame is instead put on those being affected by these circumstances. The issues of drug abuse and the mental health crisis that plague both our streets and schools are brushed aside, not taken seriously, due to either stigma or the lack of education and awareness about their negative effects. Health does not only include the physical aspects of humanity. It should also explain how the structures and environments we’re forced to live in disproportionately affect marginalized groups, especially those of color, setting them up for failure and trapping them in inequitable circumstances. When proper health care is not viewed as creating accessibility through physical, mental care, or education for individuals, we are actively playing a role in destroying communities' ability to thrive. Black women only make up around 2.7% of active physicians in the United States. As a public health major learning to tackle health disparities through education and community outreach, I am able to be a catalyst for eliciting change in communities like mine. Working as a teen leader, I’ve facilitated art therapy groups for youth, creating a space where topics like mental health, learning self-expression, and building confidence are encouraged. I’ve also worked alongside youth advocates who are passionate about working tocreate policy changes in schools affecting teen mental health. I see firsthand the effects of the lack of awareness of both social and systemic health inequities that cause long-term effects on people's physical and mental health, and the importance of preventive care. Through the public health field, I envision myself demanding space, giving a voice to those in marginalized communities where the disparities continue to grow, and creating compassion for those who seem to be overlooked. Through this unique approach to healthcare, I am more than equipped to accomplish my goal of becoming an adolescent medicine specialist, making my dreams a reality. By being one of the many Black women working towards closing the gap in representation of Black physicians, my success can inspire future generations of little Black girls to bring their new perspectives and outlooks into the field, continuing to break barriers and gaps in healthcare.