My parents separated by the time my oldest brother turned 10. He's 25 now. For most of my life, my mom has been my sole caretaker. My mother had to nurture and raise three children on a teacher's salary for over a decade on her own, and that is a task I couldn't fathom doing myself. When I was in the second grade, there was this craze for these bracelets known as 'Silly Bandz'. Everyone had them, trading them for each other's at lunch and recess. I saw them in Dollar Tree once; a 3-pack for $1. I begged my mom to buy it for me, just one, so I could trade them at school too. She said no. As a 7-year-old, I was reasonably devastated, I mean, it was only $1. Why was it such a big deal? Looking back, I realize the reasoning was right there in my face, in the check-out line of Dollar Tree, as she spent her money on our groceries. I eventually got my Silly Bandz. I traded my lunch and other snacks just to get a few. At some point, I understood that if my mother couldn't do something for me, I was going to do it myself. I hope in the future to be able to aid kids like me so that they don't face the responsibility of providing themselves what their parents can't. While I'm proud of myself, that's not something a kid should have to do. I am in my final year of undergrad, and this fall I hope to pursue a master's in public health to aid low-income communities. Additionally, I am applying for internships in Washington D.C. in public policy to further understand current policies and ways to help less fortunate demographics.

My Barbie Dream House is found on a beautiful coastal range, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. While I don't particularly love the beach, I adore the sea breeze, the ethereal blue of the ocean, and the open sunlight. It's perched on a cliff, encompassed by gorgeous greenery and colorful flowers, creating the perfect combination of the natural world and the luxury of a mansion. The exterior of my Barbie Dream House would be a charming mix of modern minimalist design and extravagant accent pieces. The house's primary color of white would be accentuated by bright pink and sky blue highlights, with huge stained-glass windows and a slanted roof with pink shingles. The entrance is a double door colored sky blue and silver, inviting visitors in with the display of color. As you step inside, the hall is roomy and welcoming, with a shimmering silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The downstairs has an open floor arrangement, making each room seamlessly flow into the next. The living room would boast beautiful bright pink velvet couches, a white coffee table, and a chimney with a marble mantle, with a TV mounted above it. The windows would provide lots of natural light to flood the room. I don't cook very often, but the kitchen would be a chef's dream. Completed with marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and silver fixtures, anyone who stepped in would fall in love. The primary bathroom would almost resemble a spa, featuring a soaking tub with a view of the water, a walk-in shower, and a vanity area with Hollywood-style dressing room lighting. In the bedroom, this is where it might step away from being truly 'Barbie'. Of course, there would be a white king-sized bed with a blue canopy, but the room would be full of bookshelves and contain a desk for a PC and a separate monitor, as well as all of my other gaming accessories. Connecting to the bedroom would be a white and silver walk-in closet to hold my entire closet collection. I love movies, therefore, an essential part of my Barbie Dream House is a home theater room, decorated with plush reclining seats and an enormous screen, heightening the movie-watching experience. Another essential part of my Barbie Dream House is also, of course, accessibility. I would have an easy-to-access lift from the living room up into the upstairs hallway. My Barbie dream house may not fit the expectations of most, but it is thoroughly and authentically me.

Adversity is something that every single person alive has dealt with at one point or another. For many, it's constant. For others, it could be so rare that they don't even know the word's meaning. In this world, I'm more privileged than many, but still so far below others. My mother raised me on my own for most of my life. I have two brothers, one older and one younger. Living in a single-parent household creates a unique amount of incomprehensible struggles to people who have never experienced such a thing, especially at such a young age. My mother is also a teacher. Three children in a household on a teacher's salary meant that some weekends, we'd have to go to the food pantry so we could eat during the week. It meant I had to remind her to apply for free/reduced lunch at school so I could eat during lunchtime. It meant that I didn't get to do huge back-to-school shopping hauls every year like other people in my classes. However, the biggest point of adversity I've experienced in my life was after a head-on collision one morning before school in my sophomore year of high school I was in the hospital for two days and didn't go to school afterward for two weeks. During that period, I missed major tests, homework assignments, quality time with my friends, and just feeling like an average teenager. I have a permanent fracture in my spine now. I struggled with walking and had a back brace for over a month. I overcame this struggle with the help of my family, my physical therapist, and more importantly, myself. I refused to let this accident control who I was. I was more than just an injury. I was more than just that accident. I religiously wore my back brace, stretched, consistently stuck with my physical therapist's advice, and only a few months later, I was walking across stretches of land, sidewalks, and roads in Japan. I had been anticipating that trip my whole life, and there was nobody and nothing that could stop me from going. That dream of mine, that goal, pushed me to do the best I could do because I knew it would all be worth it one day. I can confidently say that it was. With my degree, I hope to pursue higher education so I can obtain the qualifications to counsel and support young adults, teenagers, or children that struggle with issues outside of their control. In the African-American community, conversations regarding mental illnesses or neurodivergence are strongly discouraged, even though times are slowly changing. I struggled with my mental health a lot when I was younger and received little to no support from my family. I want to become a mental health professional so that I can give support to children who need it and have nobody else to turn to. Untreated mental issues often lead to unexplained aggression, unstable relationships, substance abuse, and a generally poor quality of life. I want to prevent these issues from becoming more prevalent in our community, and that starts from childhood.

The dream version of me is someone I don't know yet, as my ideas, beliefs, morals, and relationships change and grow, I hope and believe that she is someone that is proud of herself and believes that she is changing the world for the better every day, no matter what she chooses to pursue.

I grew up in Durham, North Carolina. For the majority of my life, I lived in a single-parent household with my two brothers on a teacher's salary. Reflecting on my childhood and adolescence is a complicated experience. I believe in always practicing gratitude and appreciation for what I have, but I also believe in honesty. Honesty in how my childhood irrevocably affected my behavior, relationships, and how I perceive myself and the world around me. There are many things I've had to unlearn throughout the years, and the surface is barely scratched. It's not all negative, because I believe it's taught me the need to grow and change. I've taught myself to become a person that I can confidently say is better than who they were before, something that many people don't learn until later in life. In school, I've always done relatively well regarding academics. Honor roll throughout elementary, middle school, high school, and even now in college. Despite my academic achievements, I had always struggled with what I truly wanted to do. What was my goal in life? My purpose? It almost felt that I was automated to do well in school, but not programmed enough to think of an aspiration or dream worth working towards. I felt lost in my own life. When I first applied to my current college, my major was political science. Afterward, I switched to kinesiology. After that, it was social work. I struggled so much with figuring out my purpose that I didn't even know if I should have enrolled in school at all. In the fall of my sophomore year of college, I took a class called Social Work as a Profession. There was a guidance counselor that came in one day, who worked at the middle school I used to attend. She made me realize then and there that I wanted to help children the way I wish someone wanted to help me when I was younger. Growing up African-American, conversations relating to mental health issues and topics of that nature are highly discouraged. Since then, I’ve discovered in this world, the impact I want to leave is through one person at a time. If I can help one person, that person can teach what they’ve learned and leave a lasting impact on another, who will continue the cycle. I want young kids, teenagers, and young adults who look like me to receive the support they need and can’t get from any other source. When people, especially those who are younger, have an outlet of some kind versus not having any, they are often more comfortable expressing their feelings and being self-aware. While social work is no longer my major because it isn’t available online at my school, I do plan on obtaining a Master’s degree in social work to pursue my goals of being a counselor or another mental health professional.

As someone who has struggled severely with mental health, both in the past and present, I believe one of society's biggest problems is that we don't take mental health seriously. Unfortunately, many people have a mindset that says, "If something isn't hitting you, then why are you crying?" Mental health oftentimes hurts more than physical pain, and when it's constantly downplayed and undermined, people who suffer from mental issues sink further into depression and feeling like they're overdramatic. I think the key to normalizing mental health issues is confronting them, both to yourself and to other people. People often hide or 'mask' their true emotions for the sake of others, and I believe that's the first step that needs healing. In reality, nobody's perfect, and the sooner we see each others' flaws and understand them, the closer we get to better understanding each other. I also think that therapy services shouldn't be as expensive as they are. Many kids, especially ones in lower-income households, can't go to therapy because their parents or guardians cannot afford it. Besides that, many kids don't feel safe talking about their emotions at home and don't have a support system they can fall on. It's important to get children and adolescents the resources and support they deserve before they fall into unhealthy coping mechanisms. However, a solution I can propose and put into action now is creating safe spaces on campuses. One of the many reasons that young people have so much stress is often because of work, or oftentimes, college. There should be a space on campus they feel comfortable ranting in, crying in, and being able to get advice and support from someone who also understands what they're going through.

As a black woman living in the 21st century, we have to go over hills and mountains to reach the same point others get to by taking a train. Especially in the United States, with racial tensions that have been growing since the foundation of this country. However, if I know one thing, it's that black women are some of the strongest, most determined people on the planet. No matter what, we'll get it done, and the same applies to me. I'll do whatever it takes for us to have a safe space in the world, no matter how long it takes, because we deserve one. In a usual workplace (9-5, office space) there are often unchecked, subtle microaggressions or anti-black sentiments that "aren't that serious," just because it isn't blatantly racist. For example, when coworkers constantly mention or reach for a black coworkers' hair, or assuming a black coworker is uptight and uncooperative because they're quiet, instead of just thinking they're shy or introverted. Most of these could be resolved with consistent workshops or training to unlearn their unconscious anti-blackness that's been ingrained into this country's people since childhood. However, it takes effort and intent to actively unlearn these things, and that's where most problems arise. Employers and employees alike should be taught to be anti-racist, not just "not racist." They have to learn that the bare minimum is not acceptable. Policies and rules put in place also help, and would most likely prevent inappropriate comments, like the ones mentioned above, because there's official paperwork that could get them fired and help them realize the severity of insensitivity towards people of color in a white-majority nation. Another good idea is simply embracing each other's differences; maybe a pot-luck or a team night out where employees can bond and acknowledge and respect each others' differences in either ethnicity, race, religion, nationality, etc. I plan to go into physical therapy, and my part in preventing challenges regarding intersectionality is making sure I take everyone that comes into my practice completely seriously. Oftentimes, black women are not given the same care as others in the medical field due to unconscious racism and the thought that black people can handle more pain than other racial groups. That's why I will record and review every complaint or issue a patient tells me in order to get them the best care and treatment. Everyone deserves to live a healthy life, and I'll make sure I can help as many people as possible.