The day I came home to find my entire house flooded, one thought muted everything else: Will Mom be okay? As I walked over wet carpet and fallen drywall, I constantly looked over to my mother, producing more tears than I had ever seen in my life. She was sound in the knowledge that this flood would incur an extreme financial toll, but my mind gravitated toward the fact that as a single mother, she must've felt completely alone in her handling of the situation. From then on, I strove to become that shoulder to cry on, or joke to make her laugh. I accompanied my mother on trips back to the house during the cleanup and renovation process, tutored my younger sisters in school while she worked long hours, and more. It took me until our house was in shambles for me to realize that every utterance of the words "I'm okay, your Mom's got this," was a plea for help, a means for finding a light at the end of the tunnel. I aimed to be the lamp to light the way. Throughout my adolescent years, I'd made friends with those also living in a single-parent household. Their stories of parents in screaming matches over child custody and financial stress sometimes led to nightmares, but there was always the sentiment that these things were happening for a reason. It was this awakening that fostered a desire for change for me. I'd had my fair share of pressing my ear to my then-married parents' bedroom and hearing sounds of yelling, slaps across the face, and crying, but I saw how strong my mother remained through the trials and tribulations, and it communicated to me that everyone in my now-smaller family needed to be a source of strength for each other. From then on, I took value in always hearing my mother's perspective before applying for a job, taking a specific course, getting involved with social groups, and so much more. I even made time each day to ask her about work and mental health, as life's small moments became incredibly important to me. I wanted to tap into the good in people and do my best to be the factor that made someone's day a little bit better. Age brought with it more freedom to be carefree, but growing up in an unorthodox space instead steered me toward community service. I felt lucky to have even one involved parent with whom to share my life, and I wanted to assist those who didn't have parents, or perhaps didn't have access to the resources that come with parental supervision and income. I then became involved in various food and homelessness campaigns in my community. One Saturday a month for the past three years, my family and I visited local food banks and packaged and distributed food to those in need. I also worked to renovate and build homes with Habitat for Humanity, so that, one home at a time, no one will ever have anxiety over their living and familial situation. Living in a single-parent household, in my mind, simply means being able to pour out twice as much love and pride for my mother. It became my mission to achieve wherever I could, for seeing that smile on my mother's face at the end of the day was my life's greatest success. I was elected to leadership positions in my school's band and National Honor Society, attended Virginia's Governor's School for French, achieved Honor Roll throughout all of high school, and so much more with this single-parent passion behind me. I was consistently looked at as a typical Black boy without a father, expected to get nowhere in life, but it was this stigma that gave me the inspiration to silence doubts. Performing at the highest levels I could achieve has been my way of making some of my mother's painful memories, or worries about the family's future, easier pills to swallow, and I'm hopeful that my efforts in the school, home, and community, will communicate to others that facing an uphill climb should be the reason to keep going and uplift others in any way, shape, or form.