The school year was going to end in a month. I walked into the building as I always did, waving to friendly faces and saying my good mornings. As I stood in the girls’ locker room, someone out of a group of boisterous girls said with a giggle, “She’s a fu***** n***er!” Clear as day -- and first thing in the morning. I came forward to make my presence as a black girl known and waited for someone to speak. I asked, “Who said it?” The girls immediately pointed to a girl with her back turned, laughing into her locker. With a nod of acknowledgment, I walked away. I didn’t know her. I didn’t recognize any of them. It was in hearing that word come out of a peer that my heart was broken. A word that dared to measure the entirety of my character and dwindle me down to be lesser than all my counterparts that my mind was shifted. I couldn’t help feeling it was “me against the world.” That was my watershed moment. A couple of months after the incident, I was welcomed into the planning committee of the MLK Community Coalition of Lebanon, a local non-profit, as the sole young person on the board. The firm goal of addressing racism and diversity has shone in its mission since the 1960s. So my joining allowed for youth perspective and representation to be a part of identifying solutions. I’m passionate about activating the input of the people; building momentum with dialogue and conversation. I’m passionate about affirming the presence of the underrepresented and engaging communities. I believe in expression and in all the ways we prosper from it. Helen Keller once said, "One cannot consent to creep when one feels the impulse to soar." Moving forward with action, I took into account that my generation searches for forums in which one can story-tell and explore others’ stories. The strain among my peers to do so effectively in person further clued me in. The topic of the decade is language and its' longevity. Meeting people is like rolling the dice and that’s not exactly alluring for many. Also, an invitation to an initiative that didn’t try to speak for the young population was nowhere to be found in my hometown. We, as the MLK Community Coalition, decided to host the annual Community Stories event. We sought to build a stronger community through mutual understanding. Simple round tables with randomized seating challenged attendees to confront another’s wavelength. The group collected stories from residents who wanted to share their varied life experiences facing racism or accounts of race relations. It was then displayed along the aisle of the entrance. I was a facilitator and greeter for the 2020 Community Stories in which the theme was, “2020: Focus on What Matters”. Within those non-partisan, secular two hours, conversation united neighbors of different generations. Thought-provoking table talk built a bridge between the age, heritage, socioeconomic dimension of an individual. It was a learning experience that put a wrinkle in the communication of the past. Those two hours took it a step further. The guests left having gained insight into the identities of our town. It was well attended. There needed to be rhetoric to acknowledge the slow burn of the community of color. And space, an open environment to break ground on the consciousness of my fellows. The event served to reinforce those journeys of healing and empowerment. It’s human nature to struggle with unfamiliar ideas. It’s intimidating. The first step is putting the omitted good, bad and the ugly on the agenda; it’s only then that one engages with the unfamiliar necessary. When I was confronted with the hatred in the locker room, I took the call to action. Albeit, perhaps it’s not the first thing to come to mind in that scene. No matter how cheesy a dream may seem, one must shine a light on that seed. Challenge those who think courage is naive. For all one does is stifle a movement. For me, ambition is the fuel that connects and propels good in the world. We all have to start somewhere, usually with grit and a smile. Most of us live in a small world, our own bubble. We often see a person of influence and think their stature is stratospheric. But, I think that the imprint that we leave on each other is by far the contribution that we should be remembered for.