Before I had the words to explain what I was emotionally carrying, I had movement. I grew up with a single mother, all brothers, and a father who left my life to start a new family. We lived in a low income neighborhood and attended government funded schools where opportunities felt distant. The world didn’t always feel like it had a place for someone like me. I watched other kids in my city get opportunities I could only dream of. Dance became that space where I could finally exist on my own terms. My teacher, Ms. Jenkins taught me that movement could hold emotion. If I was mad, I could turn it into choreography, and if I was sad I could pour it into motion. In her studio, I learned that dance wasn’t just performance, it was identity. MJDA, Ms. Jenkins Dance Academy, provided training that would have been financially out of reach anywhere else. Without that accessibility, I know my journey would have been different. I began with ballet and gradually explored other styles of dance. I spent hours copying music videos and memorizing every step of my favorite artists’ performance. Dance began to give me a voice in a household where so many voices competed for attention. Throughout grade school and high school, I stayed committed to dance, participating in the talented and gifted arts programs. Yet, it wasn’t until college that I realized dance was my true calling. I tested different majors, Mass Communications, Education, but one college dance class changed everything for me. I began to get selected for performances, invited to other students’ pieces, even featured in dance videos. In those moments, I felt seen. I realized dance was not just something that I loved but it was who I was meant to be. My Africana Studies minor has deepened my understanding of how dance connects to culture, history, and identity. My interests in political sciences and social sciences allow me to see dance as part of broader social systems. Through my current research program, I’ve explored how inequities in the public education system limit access to arts opportunities for low income students. Since I’ve lived that reality, I want to be a part of changing it. When no one else saw me, Ms. Jenkins gave me the space to exist when it felt like everything was working against me. She was the mentor who believed in me before I fully believed in myself. Not only did she nurture my technical skill, but my emotional growth as well. She showed me what a teacher could do to transform a life. Now, I want to offer that same guidance to students who are growing up just like I did. My future career dream is to own a dance student with a nonprofit section that gives underprivileged students access to dance education without the financial barriers that often block opportunity. I want students to step into a student and feel that someone believes in them and their talent, no matter where they come from. Talent exists everywhere, but opportunity does not. Dance saved me, shaped me, and showed me how to create change. I want to use what I’ve learned to open doors for students like me. Every child who loves movement should have the opportunity to feel seen, valued, and capable of reaching their dreams. I know what it feels like to love something you might never have the chance to pursue, and I will fight to make sure every child who wishes to feel seen, heard, and unstoppable.

Being a Black woman in the world of dance means immersing yourself in an environment that has historically been unwelcoming and exclusive. Despite my profound passion for dance, words can hardly capture its depth. Though I've explored other art forms like poetry, drawing, painting, and music, dance always pulls me back. Through movement, I can convey emotions and thoughts that words cannot articulate, making it a powerful outlet for expression. Yet, alongside its beauty, the struggles I faced as a Black dancer during my upbringing continue to impact me profoundly. As a dark-skinned Black woman pursuing higher education in dance, I encounter both racism and colorism in the dance world. Locating tights and shoes that match my skin tone is a constant challenge, as the dance attire often fails to be inclusive. Stepping into a studio and not finding anyone who looks like me can be disheartening, and I've faced missed opportunities due to not fitting the perceived image of a dancer. These challenges led me to question whether dance was truly my calling, given the lack of representation for individuals like me. Nevertheless, at 21 years old, I haven't allowed these obstacles to deter me from pursuing my passion. Dance has become my calling, one that involves uplifting others who share my experiences while using movement to tell meaningful stories. My choreography aims to foster inclusivity, showcasing the cultural richness that was previously ignored in various dance styles. I aspire to inspire little Black girls who, like me, may feel invisible in the dance world, offering them the chance to express their cultural heritage through any dance style, be it ballet, contemporary, or modern dance. I am Jayla Jamison York, a 21-year-old undergraduate student at Winthrop University, majoring in Dance and minoring in African American Studies. As a Black dancer in a predominantly white institution, I dedicate every moment of my day to infusing my passion with pieces of my cultural background. My goal is to create a more inclusive and representative space within the dance community, one where Black dancers can thrive and celebrate their unique identities.

Utopian: modeled on or aiming for a state in which everything is perfect; idealistic. In the pursuit of a more just and equitable society, the need to address mental health disparities within the Black community stands at the forefront of change. In my utopian vision, mental health care and advocacy play a significant role, in nurturing the well-being of all individuals, irrespective of their race, background, or privilege. This vision has the potential to profoundly impact social justice for Black people and communities of color. Throughout history, the Black community has displayed remarkable resilience in its fight against racism, but enduring challenges of discrimination, oppression, and generational trauma have deeply impacted mental health. The prevalence of mental health issues is worsened by the psychological stress of systemic racism, causing higher rates of serious psychological distress among African American adults compared to their white counterparts. Regrettably, seeking mental health care remains stigmatized within many Black communities, leaving many without the necessary treatment. The World Health Organization reports that one in four individuals will experience a mental illness during their lives. Within the Black community, mental health challenges are compounded by the psychological stress of systemic racism. As a result, African American adults are 20 percent more likely to report severe psychological distress compared to their white counterparts. Tragically, mental health care is stigmatized in many Black communities, leading to only one in three African Americans with mental health issues receiving proper treatment. These factors perpetuate disparities in accessing mental health care and worsen the stigma surrounding seeking help. An urgent shift in mental health care and advocacy is needed. In my utopian society, we change the narrative for Black children facing mental health challenges. Therapy becomes the central focus and key to breaking the stigma. All Black women, men, and children deserve the opportunity to seek therapy without judgment. Ideally, therapists would share the same cultural, socioeconomic, and racial background as their patients, providing understanding and effective guidance. Just as Black children thrive with Black teachers in public education, the same support is expected in therapy, fostering a positive and empowering experience. However, my vision for mental health transcends the boundaries of therapy rooms; it encompasses the very fabric of society. Mental health becomes a paramount priority across various sectors, including educational institutions, workplaces, and community spaces. I envision educational programs on mental health awareness becoming widespread and readily accessible, empowering individuals of all ages to recognize early signs of distress and mental health challenges in themselves and others. In this utopian world, breaking down barriers to mental health care becomes a priority, especially for Black men who have often faced unique challenges in accessing support. Accessible and quality services are made available throughout the community, ensuring that historically underserved individuals can access the help they need. Recognizing the profound connection between mental health and social justice, our vision advocates for mental health care and actively encourages seeking help within the Black community, empowering individuals, especially Black men, to challenge systemic injustices. By addressing mental health stigmatization, we foster inclusivity and compassion while challenging racial stigmas and inequality. In this utopian world, Black men's mental well-being is prioritized, promoting understanding and support. Together, we destigmatize mental health, breaking barriers and nurturing the well-being of all individuals, irrespective of their background. In conclusion, my utopian vision embraces culturally competent care, accessible resources, and a strong commitment to social justice. By acknowledging the interconnectedness of mental health and social well-being, we pave the way for a brighter, more equitable future. Let's act now to transform lives and society as a whole.