As a young child, I recall flipping through TV channels searching for Disney Channel. One day, I tuned in to a show that was full of kids playing hilarious characters. At the end of a show I felt was comedy gold, my shoulders began to bounce up and down, and breath quickly exited my body with each bounce. I was not laughing. I was crying. My brother happened to pass by at my most embarrassing moment, and he told my parents. When my parents asked what was wrong, the sentence I quavered out was, "I'm not on Disney Channel." My outburst caused my parents to search for arts programs for me. No matter what show I was part of, one thing always rang true. I was the only black girl. This revelation caused me to notice color, or the lack of it, in the entertainment industry. There were virtually no stories about people of color on TV. I became engrossed by social issues, specifically, in regards to racial injustice. I developed a desire to fight for a society that I could be part of. The art I created would be my weapon. I began writing monologues and films to perform that featured POC artists and incorporated social justice. I define my work as “arts activism”. I am a firm believer that entertainment expands people's minds. Viewing these topics in an artistic medium forces people to reflect on their lives and biases. Each piece I created made audience members approach me overcome with emotion because of the work I presented. The gripping dialogue I used to convey the impacts of racial injustice struck a chord with everyone who encountered it. My work functioned as a launchpad for social awareness and action. I intend for my work to uplift marginalized voices on major platforms. Receiving this scholarship will aid me in my journey of inclusive entertainment. I will put this money towards my post-secondary education, where I will be surrounded by other creatives whose voices I will also work to uplift. Securing positions for minority individuals who are disproportionately kept out of influential spaces in entertainment is crucial for the industry to progress. The day I wept in front of the television gave me clarity that would guide my aspirations. "I'm not on Disney Channel," was more than me not being on TV. It was not seeing someone who looked like me in the shows I loved. It was not seeing people who looked like me accomplish what had become a lifelong goal of mine. My love of social justice merged with my goal of creating and being part of inclusive content. This scholarship will help me grow my team of artistic changemakers and create works that will reach a large audience. Though I did not know it at the time, my unpolished moment in front of the TV was my calling to ensure that no person would look at their dream and cry because they were not on Disney Channel.

As a young child, I recall eagerly flipping through TV channels searching for the holy grail of television, Disney Channel. One day in particular, I tuned in to a show that was on its final scene. My screen was full of children, my age and older, playing hilarious characters. At the end of a show I felt was comedy gold, my shoulders began to bounce up and down, and breath quickly exited my body with each bounce. I was not laughing at the show or the characters. I was crying. My brother happened to pass by at my most embarrassing moment, and in true sibling fashion, he went and told my parents. Unable to get it together, my parents found me just as my brother had described, an unhinged, sopping mess. When they asked what was wrong, the sentence I quavered out in between my desperate gulps for air was, "I'm not on Disney Channel." My outburst caused my parents to search for arts programs for me. No matter what show I was part of, one thing always rang true. I was the only cookie in the jar, a dollop of chocolate in a glass of milk, the lone Ritz cracker in a bowl of saltines. In other words, I was the token black girl. This revelation caused me to notice color, or the lack of it, in every aspect of the entertainment industry. When I flipped through television channels, there were virtually no stories about people of color. This reality is detrimental to society. A portion of society is unaware of the experiences and truths of people outside of their community. The other is deprived of validation and the high self-esteem that stems from being reflected positively in the media. Exclusive art breeds societal dysfunction and the inability to empathize with others. As I grew, artistically and height-wise, I became engrossed by social issues, specifically, in regards to racial injustice. I developed a desire to fight for a society that I could be both proud of and part of. The art I created would be my weapon. I began writing monologues and films to perform that featured black artists and incorporated social justice. I define my work as “arts activism”. I am a firm believer that entertainment expands people's minds. Individuals are more receptive to different perspectives about race and gender when topics are presented artistically. Viewing these topics in an artistic medium forces people to reflect on their lives and biases genuinely. With each piece that I created, instead of receiving common compliments, audience members would approach me, overcome with emotion, because of the work I presented onstage. The artistic manner and gripping dialogue I used to convey the impacts of racial injustice struck a chord with everyone who encountered it. When I realized the response was so strong, I created a podcast intended for black individuals in predominantly white spaces to find community. I never anticipated my podcast would grow globally or would have an audience of all races, genders, and six continents. My mission became to enable my audiences to gain insight from all my work to function as a launchpad for social awareness and action. I intend for my work to be an integral part of uplifting marginalized voices on major platforms. Diversifying the entertainment industry as an actor and content creator has made my work more meaningful, thus more fulfilling. I made the deliberate choice to construct a creative team, both the actors and the production crew, of many women and people of color. It is imperative for the work that I produce to have the nuanced experiences of individuals so that the most effective and impactful message can be conveyed. Securing positions for minority individuals, who are disproportionately excluded from influential spaces in entertainment, is crucial for the entertainment industry to progress racially and in terms of gender. This way, the content being created represents the lives of all society, not just a select few. The day I wept in front of the television provided me with clarity that would guide my aspirations. "I'm not on Disney Channel," was more than me not being on a TV show. It was me not seeing someone who looked like me in the shows I loved. It was not seeing many people who looked like me accomplish what had become a lifelong goal of mine. My love of social justice merged with my goal of creating and being part of inclusive content. From the short film I directed about sexual assault that starred black actors and had a crew made up of mostly women and people of color, to the podcast I created for black people living in white areas, arts and activism were one. Though I did not know it at the time, my unpolished moment searching for a TV show was my calling to ensure that no person would look at their dream and cry because they were not on Disney Channel.

I curated a playlist of songs that inspire me to trust my growth process. I have had many times where I'm impatient with myself or my abilities because they aren't perfect. Since identifying that trait within myself, I am taking steps to unlearn the mindset of perfection and adopt the mindset of progression. These songs help me find comfort in working to have things together rather than appearing to have everything figure out. These songs inspire me to be the best version of myself and be kind to myself as I become that person.