Before I ever learned how to advocate for others, I had to learn how to advocate for myself. This pushed me to not just advocate for others but to give them the tools to advocate for themselves. Dyslexia whispers doubt, but I learned to shout back in defiance. I was diagnosed in the 3rd grade, and while it explained my delayed learning, it often felt like a battle between my ambitions and my challenges. Fashion became my outlet, turning frustration into creativity; my dyslexia no longer felt like a limitation but a lens that allowed me to see style, marketing, and storytelling in ways others might miss. I also utilized swimming as an outlet. Facing a sport that I was not welcomed in meant making space for myself in a place not built for me, and it changed the way I face obstacles. Adopting this mindset was a process. During my childhood I remember the arena of the small classroom, facing a spelling test with red words that grew larger than life, trapping me in a vortex of letters. Then, I first encountered bullying in middle school as most awkward black girls do. The reading got so bad my bully fractured my pinky and of couses I lied to not only protect my torture but also my pride. After being transferred out of the class my bully was in, I found friends that lifted my confidence and embraced me for who I was; they inspired me. Over time, I learned that dyslexia enhances creative thinking, problem-solving, and spatial perception. Using these strengths, I began to thrive, channeling them into my passion for fashion marketing and creative direction. Although I had gained my confidence and encountered new found success, something was missing, I felt a need to help those who had been in positions similar to mine. Inspired by how fashion gave me confidence and self-expression, I founded The Closet Project. Through our mobile closet, we empower teens to embrace individuality, creativity, and self-assurance, giving them access to clothing, shoes, and accessories regardless of financial barriers. While dealing with financial barriers of my own I was determined to not let my lack of final aid stop me from pursuing higher education. After learning to swim I advanced to my school's varsity team. I then later went on to qualify for regionals my freshman year earning my letterman jacket and continue to become the captain of the NCHS varsity swim team. I didn't stop at success after reaching my goal. I wanted to give others the opportunities to achieve it. As the captain of the swim team I contributed to opening the swim team to students who could not swim while also providing them with swim lessons and water safety classes. I also became certified as a lifeguard and volunteered in water safety classes helping minority students to break the stigma of what a traditional swimming team looks like. I don't let my financial burdens weigh down my will to help others. Just as I turned my challenges into opportunities for growth, I aim to help others do the same through fashion. My dyslexia doesn't hold me back; it pushes me toward challenges I approach with innovation and resilience. As I prepare for my final year of high school, I am grateful for the barriers that shaped me. The 3rd grader who faced dyslexia with defiance now confronts the world with creativity, confidence, and a vision to empower others through both fashion and my nonprofit. And now I chose to empower others.

We’re known for winning. Five state championships in the past two years, that’s what people choose to see. That’s what gets recognized. But that’s not all we are. When I think about my community, I think about the people, families, and generations before us who built something strong out of being overlooked. A predominantly Black school like mine carries more than pride, we carry perception. Too often, that perception is shaped by stereotypes tied to the color of our skin, reducing us to what we can do physically instead of who we are intellectually and culturally. We are celebrated for how we perform, but overlooked for who we are. “For the culture, for the city” isn’t just a slogan, it’s a mindset. It’s about understanding that our culture is not something to be minimized or misunderstood, but something powerful that shapes leaders and changemakers. I’ve made it my responsibility to move with that understanding. Not just to succeed for myself, but to expand what success looks like for people who look like me. I’ve stepped into leadership roles, serving as captain of the NCHS swim team, a student council executive board member, president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, a member of the Black Student Union, public relations representative for the Class of 2026, and a member of the National Honor Society. But titles are not what matter most; impact does. My impact is measured by the people I uplift. As president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, I helped register over 60 students to vote, shaping awareness into action and making sure our voices are heard. As the public relations representative for my senior class, I expanded our social media presence, using those platforms to show the full story of who we are, not just the version people want to see. In spaces where we are underrepresented, like swimming, I have worked to create room for more people who look like me, challenging the idea of who belongs. The work I have started does not end here. As I pursue a degree in business marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising, I plan to continue on a larger scale. Through marketing and creative direction, I want to highlight underrepresented voices and challenge the way Black communities are portrayed in media. My goal is not just to succeed, but to redefine the industry by making sure that culture is respected.

Before I ever learned how to advocate for others, I had to learn how to advocate for myself. This pushed me to not just advocate for others but to give them the tools to advocate for themselves. Dyslexia whispers doubt, but I learned to shout back in defiance. I was diagnosed in the 3rd grade, and while it explained my delayed learning, it often felt like a battle between my ambitions and my challenges. Fashion became my outlet, turning frustration into creativity; my dyslexia no longer felt like a limitation but a lens that allowed me to see style, marketing, and storytelling in ways others might miss. I also utilized swimming as an outlet. Facing a sport that I was not welcomed in meant making space for myself in a place not built for me, and it changed the way I face obstacles. Adopting this mindset was a process. During my childhood I remember the arena of the small classroom, facing a spelling test with red words that grew larger than life, trapping me in a vortex of letters. Then, I first encountered bullying in middle school as most awkward black girls do. The reading got so bad my bully fractured my pinky and of couses I lied to not only protect my torture but also my pride. After being transferred out of the class my bully was in, I found friends that lifted my confidence and embraced me for who I was; they inspired me. Over time, I learned that dyslexia enhances creative thinking, problem-solving, and spatial perception. Using these strengths, I began to thrive, channeling them into my passion for fashion marketing and creative direction. Although I had gained my confidence and encountered new found success, something was missing, I felt a need to help those who had been in positions similar to mine. Inspired by how fashion gave me confidence and self-expression, I founded The Closet Project. Through our mobile closet, we empower teens to embrace individuality, creativity, and self-assurance, giving them access to clothing, shoes, and accessories regardless of financial barriers. While dealing with financial barriers of my own I was determined to not let my lack of final aid stop me from pursuing higher education. After learning to swim I advanced to my school's varsity team. I then later went on to qualify for regionals my freshman year earning my letterman jacket and continue to become the captain of the NCHS varsity swim team. I didn't stop at success after reaching my goal. I wanted to give others the opportunities to achieve it. As the captain of the swim team I contributed to opening the swim team to students who could not swim while also providing them with swim lessons and water safety classes. I also became certified as a lifeguard and volunteered in water safety classes helping minority students to break the stigma of what a traditional swimming team looks like. I don't let my financial burdens weigh down my will to help others. Just as I turned my challenges into opportunities for growth, I aim to help others do the same through fashion. My dyslexia doesn't hold me back; it pushes me toward challenges I approach with innovation and resilience. As I prepare for my final year of high school, I am grateful for the barriers that shaped me. The 3rd grader who faced dyslexia with defiance now confronts the world with creativity, confidence, and a vision to empower others through both fashion and my nonprofit. And now I chose to empower others.

We’re known for winning. Five state championships in the past two years, that’s what people choose to see. That’s what gets recognized. But that’s not all we are, and it never has been. When I think about my community, I think about the people, the families, the neighborhoods, and the generations before us who built something strong out of being overlooked. A predominantly Black school in a predominantly community like mine carries more than pride, we carry perception. Too often, that perception is shaped by stereotypes tied to the color of our skin, reducing us to what we can do physically instead of who we are intellectually, culturally, and collectively. We are celebrated for how we perform, but overlooked for who we are. “For the culture, for the city” isn’t just a slogan, it’s a mindset. It’s about reclaiming our narrative in a world that tries to define us before we even get the space to exist on our own terms. It’s about understanding that our culture is not something to be minimized or misunderstood, it is something powerful, something that shapes leaders, thinkers, and changemakers.I’ve made it my responsibility to move with that understanding. Not just to succeed for myself, but to expand what success looks like for people who look like me. I’ve stepped into leadership roles, serving as captain of the NCHS swim team, a student council executive board member, president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, a member of the Black Student Union, public relations representative for the Class of 2026, and a member of the National Honor Society. But titles are not what matter most. Impact does. My impact goes beyond titles and positions, it is measured by the people I uplift and the spaces I influence. Because of how I chose to lead, I have seen real change take shape within my community. As president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, I helped register over 60 students to vote, shaping awareness into action and making sure our voices are not just heard, but internalized. As the public relations representative for my senior class, I expanded our social media presence by raising our followers, views, and engagement, using those platforms to show the full story of who we are, not just the version people want to see. More so, I focus on mentoring future leaders and showing them what it means to not just lead but influence. In spaces where we are often underrepresented, like swimming and diving, I have worked to create room for more people who look like me, challenging the idea of who belongs. The work I have started does not end here, it evolves over time. As I pursue a degree in business marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising, I plan to continue on a larger scale. Through marketing and creative direction, I want to highlight underrepresented voices and challenge the way Black communities are portrayed in media and business. I plan to use digital platforms to show authentic stories, build brands that reflect culture with intention, and create opportunities for others to be seen in spaces where they have been overlooked. My goal is not just to succeed in the industry, but to redefine it by making sure that culture is not exploited, but respected, represented, and led by those who live it.

We’re known for winning. Five state championships in the past two years, that’s what people choose to see. That’s what gets recognized. But that’s not all we are, and it never has been. When I think about my community, I think about the people, the families, the neighborhoods, and the generations before us who built something strong out of being overlooked. A predominantly Black school in a predominantly community like mine carries more than pride, we carry perception. Too often, that perception is shaped by stereotypes tied to the color of our skin, reducing us to what we can do physically instead of who we are intellectually, culturally, and collectively. We are celebrated for how we perform, but overlooked for who we are. “For the culture, for the city” isn’t just a slogan, it’s a mindset. It’s about reclaiming our narrative in a world that tries to define us before we even get the space to exist on our own terms. It’s about understanding that our culture is not something to be minimized or misunderstood, it is something powerful, something that shapes leaders, thinkers, and changemakers.I’ve made it my responsibility to move with that understanding. Not just to succeed for myself, but to expand what success looks like for people who look like me. I’ve stepped into leadership roles, serving as captain of the NCHS swim team, a student council executive board member, president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, a member of the Black Student Union, public relations representative for the Class of 2026, and a member of the National Honor Society. But titles are not what matter most. Impact does. My impact goes beyond titles and positions, it is measured by the people I uplift and the spaces I influence. Because of how I chose to lead, I have seen real change take shape within my community. As president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, I helped register over 60 students to vote, shaping awareness into action and making sure our voices are not just heard, but internalized. As the public relations representative for my senior class, I expanded our social media presence by raising our followers, views, and engagement, using those platforms to show the full story of who we are, not just the version people want to see. More so, I focus on mentoring future leaders and showing them what it means to not just lead but influence. In spaces where we are often underrepresented, like swimming and diving, I have worked to create room for more people who look like me, challenging the idea of who belongs. The work I have started does not end here, it evolves over time. As I pursue a degree in business marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising, I plan to continue on a larger scale. Through marketing and creative direction, I want to highlight underrepresented voices and challenge the way Black communities are portrayed in media and business. I plan to use digital platforms to show authentic stories, build brands that reflect culture with intention, and create opportunities for others to be seen in spaces where they have been overlooked. My goal is not just to succeed in the industry, but to redefine it by making sure that culture is not exploited, but respected, represented, and led by those who live it. For me this journey begins at a Historically Black College or University. When coming from a family with a legacy of HBCU graduates and D9 affiliated leaders, HBCU is the only option. At first I felt pressured to make this choice and slightly resistant to the idea. But after a spring break trip to the most prestigious and illustrious HBCU’s I saw what some would say “what the hype was about”. To see people that looked like me doing the things that I was told were unattainable for people like me was the purest form of black excellence. In that moment, my perspective shifted. I no longer saw it as an expectation I had to meet, but as an opportunity I got to step into. An HBCU is more than an institution, it is a space where I can grow without limitation, where my identity is not questioned but celebrated, and where I am surrounded by a community that understands both my potential and my purpose.

We’re known for winning. Five state championships in the past two years, that’s what people choose to see. That’s what gets recognized. But that’s not all we are, and it never has been. When I think about my community, I think about the people, the families, the neighborhoods, and the generations before us who built something strong out of being overlooked. A predominantly Black school in a predominantly community like mine carries more than pride, we carry perception. Too often, that perception is shaped by stereotypes tied to the color of our skin, reducing us to what we can do physically instead of who we are intellectually, culturally, and collectively. We are celebrated for how we perform, but overlooked for who we are. “For the culture, for the city” isn’t just a slogan, it’s a mindset. It’s about reclaiming our narrative in a world that tries to define us before we even get the space to exist on our own terms. It’s about understanding that our culture is not something to be minimized or misunderstood, it is something powerful, something that shapes leaders, thinkers, and changemakers.I’ve made it my responsibility to move with that understanding. Not just to succeed for myself, but to expand what success looks like for people who look like me. I’ve stepped into leadership roles, serving as captain of the NCHS swim team, a student council executive board member, president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, a member of the Black Student Union, public relations representative for the Class of 2026, and a member of the National Honor Society. But titles are not what matter most. Impact does. My impact goes beyond titles and positions, it is measured by the people I uplift and the spaces I influence. Because of how I chose to lead, I have seen real change take shape within my community. As president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, I helped register over 60 students to vote, shaping awareness into action and making sure our voices are not just heard, but internalized. As the public relations representative for my senior class, I expanded our social media presence by raising out followers, views, and engagement, using those platforms to show the full story of who we are, not just the version people want to see. More so, I focus on mentoring future leaders and showing them what it means to not just lead but influence. In spaces where we are often underrepresented, like swimming and diving, I have worked to create room for more people who look like me, challenging the idea of who belongs. The work I have started does not end here, it evolves over time. As I pursue a degree in business marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising, I plan to continue on a larger scale. Through marketing and creative direction, I want to highlight underrepresented voices and challenge the way Black communities are portrayed in media and business. I plan to use digital platforms to show authentic stories, build brands that reflect culture with intention, and create opportunities for others to be seen in spaces where they have been overlooked. My goal is not just to succeed in the industry, but to redefine it by making sure that culture is not exploited, but respected, represented, and led by those who live it.

We’re known for winning. Five state championships in the past two years, that’s what people choose to see. That’s what gets recognized. But that’s not all we are, and it never has been. When I think about my community, I think about the people, the families, the neighborhoods, and the generations before us who built something strong out of being overlooked. A predominantly Black school in a predominantly community like mine carries more than pride, we carry perception. Too often, that perception is shaped by stereotypes tied to the color of our skin, reducing us to what we can do physically instead of who we are intellectually, culturally, and collectively. We are celebrated for how we perform, but overlooked for who we are. “For the culture, for the city” isn’t just a slogan, it’s a mindset. It’s about reclaiming our narrative in a world that tries to define us before we even get the space to exist on our own terms. It’s about understanding that our culture is not something to be minimized or misunderstood, it is something powerful, something that shapes leaders, thinkers, and changemakers.I’ve made it my responsibility to move with that understanding. Not just to succeed for myself, but to expand what success looks like for people who look like me. I’ve stepped into leadership roles, serving as captain of the NCHS swim team, a student council executive board member, president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, a member of the Black Student Union, public relations representative for the Class of 2026, and a member of the National Honor Society. But titles are not what matter most. Impact does. My impact goes beyond titles and positions, it is measured by the people I uplift and the spaces I influence. Because of how I chose to lead, I have seen real change take shape within my community. As president of the Student Voting Empowerment Club, I helped register over 60 students to vote, shaping awareness into action and making sure our voices are not just heard, but internalized. As the public relations representative for my senior class, I expanded our social media presence by raising out followers, views, and engagement, using those platforms to show the full story of who we are, not just the version people want to see. More so, I focus on mentoring future leaders and showing them what it means to not just lead but influence. In spaces where we are often underrepresented, like swimming and diving, I have worked to create room for more people who look like me, challenging the idea of who belongs. The work I have started does not end here, it evolves over time. As I pursue a degree in business marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising, I plan to continue on a larger scale. Through marketing and creative direction, I want to highlight underrepresented voices and challenge the way Black communities are portrayed in media and business. I plan to use digital platforms to show authentic stories, build brands that reflect culture with intention, and create opportunities for others to be seen in spaces where they have been overlooked. My goal is not just to succeed in the industry, but to redefine it by making sure that culture is not exploited, but respected, represented, and led by those who live it.

Before I ever learned how to advocate for others, I had to learn how to advocate for myself. This pushed me to not just advocate for others but to give them the tools to advocate for themselves. Dyslexia whispers doubt, but I learned to shout back in defiance. I was diagnosed in the 3rd grade, and while it explained my delayed learning, it often felt like a battle between my ambitions and my challenges. Fashion became my outlet, turning frustration into creativity; my dyslexia no longer felt like a limitation but a lens that allowed me to see style, marketing, and storytelling in ways others might miss. I also utilized swimming as an outlet. Facing a sport that I was not welcomed in meant making space for myself in a place not built for me, and it changed the way I face obstacles. Adopting this mindset was a process. During my childhood I remember the arena of the small classroom, facing a spelling test with red words that grew larger than life, trapping me in a vortex of letters. Then, I first encountered bullying in middle school as most awkward black girls do. The reading got so bad my bully fractured my pinky and of couses I lied to not only protect my torture but also my pride. After being transferred out of the class my bully was in, I found friends that lifted my confidence and embraced me for who I was; they inspired me. Over time, I learned that dyslexia enhances creative thinking, problem-solving, and spatial perception. Using these strengths, I began to thrive, channeling them into my passion for fashion marketing and creative direction. Although I had gained my confidence and encountered new found success, something was missing, I felt a need to help those who had been in positions similar to mine. Inspired by how fashion gave me confidence and self-expression, I founded The Closet Project. Through our mobile closet, we empower teens to embrace individuality, creativity, and self-assurance, giving them access to clothing, shoes, and accessories regardless of financial barriers. While dealing with financial barriers of my own I was determined to not let my lack of final aid stop me from pursuing higher education. After learning to swim I advanced to my school's varsity team. I then later went on to qualify for regionals my freshman year earning my letterman jacket and continue to become the captain of the NCHS varsity swim team. I didn't stop at success after reaching my goal. I wanted to give others the opportunities to achieve it. As the captain of the swim team I contributed to opening the swim team to students who could not swim while also providing them with swim lessons and water safety classes. I also became certified as a lifeguard and volunteered in water safety classes helping minority students to break the stigma of what a traditional swimming team looks like. I don't let my financial burdens weigh down my will to help others. Just as I turned my challenges into opportunities for growth, I aim to help others do the same through fashion. My dyslexia doesn't hold me back; it pushes me toward challenges I approach with innovation and resilience. As I prepare for my final year of high school, I am grateful for the barriers that shaped me. The 3rd grader who faced dyslexia with defiance now confronts the world with creativity, confidence, and a vision to empower others through both fashion and my nonprofit. And now I chose to empower others.