When I was about nine years old, I made a mistake that ended one of my friendships. I was foolish and impulsive—thirsty for revenge. It’s likely that friend doesn’t even remember what happened on my driveway, but I didn’t realize that one piece of sidewalk chalk could cause an entire relationship to fade to dust. Reflecting on this moment, I realize that it was through this one mistake that I learned compassion, patience, and tolerance—all important facets of my personality and my goals in life. That one fateful afternoon on my driveway started out as an innocent day of hanging out with friends and drawing with sidewalk chalk. I was fleshing out my chalk illustration when my friend unintentionally drew on my precious artwork. Consumed with rage, I set my sights on ruining something near and dear to his own heart: his black flat-billed hat. I took my piece of sidewalk chalk and scribbled right on the hat on his head. In that moment, I felt satisfaction, but now I see hurt in my friend’s eyes. Soon afterwards, we went to our respective homes, tension in the air. An impulsive mistake led to the loss of a friendship I had made at a very young age. Had I been more patient and understanding, I could have remained friends with that boy. Compassion teaches me to reflect upon my sidewalk-chalk-mistake and realize that I was wrong, and it teaches patience in dealing with others and my own emotions. Along the way, my past has also taught me to be open-minded and tolerant of others. My bittersweet memory has cultivated in me the necessary traits I need to successfully navigate young adulthood and my experiences beyond. With patience, tolerance, and empathy, I can make this world better, day by day.

Red. Green. Black. White. These colors soared in the wind, their cries piercing through the air, demanding justice against apartheid and oppression. As these shades waved for hours, passersby took photos and smiled in support. The marching crowd got bigger and bigger. People of all ages, colors, and creeds were marching. Signs filled the air. Recently, I had the privilege of participating in my city's protest in support of the movement to liberate Palestine. This was the first protest I had ever taken part in. I didn't know how the protest would end, if it would turn violent, or if it would stay peaceful. But what I did see was the sheer number of people who came to support the movement, and by the diversity of those people. I was awestruck. We all were using our voices, loud and proud, to speak up for the people who had been and are being silenced. That day, I saw the power of the people, and I knew that we were unstoppable. I am not Palestinian, but I used my voice to stand in alliance with the people of Palestine. I left the rally feeling energized and empowered, and it imbued in me the importance of working to instill these feelings in silenced communities too.