During my time at Moses Brown, I have had the opportunity to take thought-provoking courses that intrigue me both on an emotional and intellectual level. In the fall of my senior year I took Psychology of Race, which examines the ways that the field of psychology has grappled with the idea of "race" in the 20th and 21st centuries. The course considered how African American social scientists and psychologists worked to dismantle harmful constructions of race while examining the impact of "race" on American society. It also acknowledged the current understanding of identity development and the enduring problem of racial biases in schools and society. This course was taught by Dr. Kelena Reid. When I first arrived at MB freshman year, I felt lost, unaccepted by both the white and black communities. Dr. Reid took me under her wing and provided a supportive atmosphere where I could share my thoughts. She has taught me how to be proud and unapologetically black, even when I felt pressure to conform to predominantly white environments. She introduced me to Racial Affinity groups and yearly diversity conferences where I could collaborate with students who share similar situations and identifiers as myself. She has also introduced me to the literature of influential activists such as Dr. Angela Davis, Ibram X. Kendi, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. Their works depict civil rights activism and address systematic racism and African Americans’ impact on society. I would love to continue learning about those individuals, and many more pioneers for racial justice, when I attend college. Dr. Reid’s influence shaped what is important to me in a college. When looking for colleges I considered the percentage of students of color, as well as access to clubs and organizations that promote the advancements of minority students. I’ve been drawn to colleges that have initiatives that promote the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of color and help destruct institutionalized racism. I want an environment where my opinions and presence are valued and cherished like they have been by Dr. Reid at MB. I know having an institution like that will only help me further grow as an individual. Dr. Reid has always championed the rights and advancement of students of color at Moses Brown, encourages advocacy, and prompts a caring learning atmosphere. Because of Dr. Reid, I hope to study African American history when I attend college, as well as take classes on economic and social inequalities that persist in minority communities. I want to take the lessons of engaged citizenship and moral obligation that I have learned and continue to be a vocal advocate for marginalized groups by joining organizations that fight for suppressed communities and working with my peers to create social media and public campaigns within collegiate and societal environments. Dr. Reid has been much more than an educator: she has been a friend, an ally, and a mentor, and the gifts she has bestowed upon me will accompany me into all of my future endeavors.

Growing up, my father would do and say rash things and act in strange ways. There would be days I didn't know what mood I'd find him in. Sometimes he would be happy and filled with an abundance of joy, other days lashing out, and being in a blind rage for what I believed was no reason. I remember a few years ago my dad and I went whale watching. We drove down to Cape Cod and spent hours upon hours watching the magnificent creatures rise from the emerging seas and dive back in gracefully. I remember seeing the bright vivid smile on my dad's face and the look of awe and amazement on mine. We sat in the boat for what felt like hours, smiling, laughing, and filling my face with popcorn. The ride home was something very different; it was filled with an awkward silence. When we got home, he went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He stayed there for almost two days. My family and I were extremely worried about him. I felt helpless. He refused to eat or talk to anyone. I was in shock because hours prior we were having fun, laughing, and having the time of our lives. Being unable to solve what he was going through brought with it a great deal of pain. The uncertainty of my dad shifting personalities consumed a large portion of my high school years, from the time I was a freshman to early in my junior year. I would constantly be calling him in between classes to make sure he had gotten something to eat, ensuring that he was okay and checking to see if he had gotten enough sleep. On my way to work, I constantly called him, checking to see if he needed anything. I felt ashamed of myself that I could not understand or help him. Every time my family or I would bring up the topic of therapy he would say "I'm fine, I'm fine," but we all knew he was struggling with something none of us could understand. It took over a year for my father to finally go and see a therapist. Being Ghanaian-American, my community rarely talked about mental illness; they simply wrote it off as being "crazy." Having this type of mentality affected how I viewed people who suffered from mental illnesses. For such a long time, I thought that people who suffered from illness were simply crazy because that was what I was taught to believe. Constantly worrying about my father had an effect on my schoolwork. I found myself unable to be fully present in the classroom or even, at times, not able to study for assessments. I lost sleep, and before I knew it, my grades had started to decline. Every time someone would ask me what was wrong I would shake it off and say "I'm fine," even though I had so much I wanted to say and talk about, but I thought no one truly cared. I thought I could not go to anyone with what I was feeling because I was not the person suffering. However, with the help of some good friends, I found a way to talk about what I was feeling about my dad and how it had such an effect on my daily routine. I have learned to deal with the issues within my home by seeking the guidance of supportive friends and family members. Doing this helped me express the feeling of sorrow and utter lack of hopelessness that I was going through. This journey has made me more conscious and aware of the struggles mental health poses on a significant portion of our global society. I want to be more of an advocate for people who have family members struggling through mental health issues.

Arriving at Moses Brown I was completely unprepared for the demanding coursework that I was about to embark on. Many of the students around me had received world-class education from a young age; most, if not all, came from wealthy families who could afford private tutoring. Receiving mediocre grades made me feel unworthy of being here, as if maybe all the kids who told me that I did not have the academic ability to thrive were right. I fought to prove my intelligence and to convince my peers and myself that I belonged. I spent countless hours studying, trying to receive perfect grades. Each time I did not perform well on assignments and assessments further amplified my questioning of my intellectual potential to succeed. I began to make time after school to see the teachers of classes that I was having trouble with, and developed better studying habits and time management skills. Looking at my Spanish quiz one day, I saw that I had gotten the highest score in the class. This accomplishment brought reassurance in my ability to flourish at MB. Performing well proved that I had the intelligence to be successful. All the struggles that I endured academically, and figuring out how to overcome them, have taught me how to think critically and advocate for myself in times of crisis. The lessons that I have gained will further help me rise up, seeking out help and guidance when necessary, during moments of uncertainty and doubt.

During my time at Moses Brown, I have had the opportunity to take thought-provoking courses that intrigue me both on an emotional and intellectual level. In the fall of my senior year I took Psychology of Race, which examines the ways that the field of psychology has grappled with the idea of "race" in the 20th and 21st centuries. The course considered how African American social scientists and psychologists worked to dismantle harmful constructions of race while examining the impact of "race" on American society. It also acknowledged the current understanding of identity development and the enduring problem of racial biases in schools and society. This course was taught by Dr. Kelena Reid. When I first arrived at MB freshman year, I felt lost, unaccepted by both the white and black communities. Dr. Reid took me under her wing and provided a supportive atmosphere where I could share my thoughts. She has taught me how to be proud and unapologetically black, even when I felt pressure to conform to predominantly white environments. She introduced me to Racial Affinity groups and yearly diversity conferences where I could collaborate with students who share similar situations and identifiers as myself. She has also introduced me to the literature of influential activists such as Dr. Angela Davis, Ibram X. Kendi, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. Their works depict civil rights activism and address systematic racism and African Americans’ impact on society. I would love to continue learning about those individuals, and many more pioneers for racial justice, when I attend college. Dr. Reid’s influence shaped what is important to me in a college. When looking for colleges I considered the percentage of students of color, as well as access to clubs and organizations that promote the advancements of minority students. I’ve been drawn to colleges that have initiatives that promote the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of color and help destruct institutionalized racism. I want an environment where my opinions and presence are valued and cherished like they have been by Dr. Reid at MB. I know having an institution like that will only help me further grow as an individual. Dr. Reid has always championed the rights and advancement of students of color at Moses Brown, encourages advocacy, and prompts a caring learning atmosphere. Because of Dr. Reid, I hope to study African American history when I attend college, as well as take classes on economic and social inequalities that persist in minority communities. I want to take the lessons of engaged citizenship and moral obligation that I have learned and continue to be a vocal advocate for marginalized groups by joining organizations that fight for suppressed communities and working with my peers to create social media and public campaigns within collegiate and societal environments. Dr. Reid has been much more than an educator: she has been a friend, an ally, and a mentor, and the gifts she has bestowed upon me will accompany me into all of my future endeavors.

Throughout most of my high school years, I was quiet and reluctant to participate in activities that did not involve someone that I knew. So when the opportunity came to apply to the yearly Student Diversity Leadership Conference in Seattle, Washington, I was hesitant to apply. I did not think I could travel across the country and engage with unfamiliar faces. However, with the encouragement of my elder peers of color and teachers, I decided to apply and lean into discomfort. The first day of the conference brought an abundance of rain, wind, and gloomy clouds. I bolted into the building to escape the weather and within a couple of seconds, found myself assigned to a “pod” away from the other people from my school. There, I met Asha and DJ. The group leaders matched us up to compose a poem about our life stories and journeys. Asha told us about Cocopah Indians, a tribe her family has been a part of for generations. She told us about the hardships that they face living on reservation, and other obstacles that she has witnessed and endured throughout her lifetime. DJ, who fled war, poverty, and religious persecution in Syria, came to the United States a few years prior. He told us about his time living in a refugee camp. In addition to struggles and adversities, he has had to overcome getting accustomed to a completely foreign place. I found it odd sharing details of my life that I had never told anyone else, especially sharing such personal details with individuals who I had only known for five minutes. However, it was empowering and freeing; we read our poem to the larger group and were met with applause and an outstanding level of support. By attending SDLC, I was able to become comfortable in my skin, while also interacting with people who had different life journeys. Also, this experience showed me that it is necessary to be open to trying new things in order to become more self-confident and have adventures that propel me to live, laugh, and learn.

Arriving at Moses Brown I was completely unprepared for the demanding coursework that I was about to embark on. Many of the students around me had received world-class education from a young age; most, if not all, came from wealthy families who could afford private tutoring. Receiving mediocre grades made me feel unworthy of being here, as if maybe all the kids who told me that I did not have the academic ability to thrive were right. I fought to prove my intelligence and to convince my peers and myself that I belonged. I spent countless hours studying, trying to receive perfect grades. Each time I did not perform well on assignments and assessments further amplified my questioning of my intellectual potential to succeed. I began to make time after school to see the teachers of classes that I was having trouble with, and developed better studying habits and time management skills. Looking at my Spanish quiz one day, I saw that I had gotten the highest score in the class. This accomplishment brought reassurance in my ability to flourish at MB. Performing well proved that I had the intelligence to be successful. All the struggles that I endured academically, and figuring out how to overcome them, have taught me how to think critically and advocate for myself in times of crisis. The lessons that I have gained will further help me rise up, seeking out help and guidance when necessary, during moments of uncertainty and doubt.

During my time at Moses Brown, I have had the opportunity to take thought-provoking courses that intrigue me both on an emotional and intellectual level. In the fall of my senior year I took Psychology of Race, which examines the ways that the field of psychology has grappled with the idea of "race" in the 20th and 21st centuries. The course considered how African American social scientists and psychologists worked to dismantle harmful constructions of race while examining the impact of "race" on American society. It also acknowledged the current understanding of identity development and the enduring problem of racial biases in schools and society. This course was taught by Dr. Kelena Reid. When I first arrived at MB freshman year, I felt lost, unaccepted by both the white and black communities. Dr. Reid took me under her wing and provided a supportive atmosphere where I could share my thoughts. She has taught me how to be proud and unapologetically black, even when I felt pressure to conform to predominantly white environments. She introduced me to Racial Affinity groups and yearly diversity conferences where I could collaborate with students who share similar situations and identifiers as myself. She has also introduced me to the literature of influential activists such as Dr. Angela Davis, Ibram X. Kendi, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. Their works depict civil rights activism and address systematic racism and African Americans’ impact on society. I would love to continue learning about those individuals, and many more pioneers for racial justice, when I attend college. Dr. Reid’s influence shaped what is important to me in a college. When looking for colleges I considered the percentage of students of color, as well as access to clubs and organizations that promote the advancements of minority students. I’ve been drawn to colleges that have initiatives that promote the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of color and help destruct institutionalized racism. I want an environment where my opinions and presence are valued and cherished like they have been by Dr. Reid at MB. I know having an institution like that will only help me further grow as an individual. Dr. Reid has always championed the rights and advancement of students of color at Moses Brown, encourages advocacy, and prompts a caring learning atmosphere. Because of Dr. Reid, I hope to study African American history when I attend college, as well as take classes on economic and social inequalities that persist in minority communities. I want to take the lessons of engaged citizenship and moral obligation that I have learned and continue to be a vocal advocate for marginalized groups by joining organizations that fight for suppressed communities and working with my peers to create social media and public campaigns within collegiate and societal environments. Dr. Reid has been much more than an educator: she has been a friend, an ally, and a mentor, and the gifts she has bestowed upon me will accompany me into all of my future endeavors.

Throughout most of my high school years, I was quiet and reluctant to participate in activities that did not involve someone that I knew. So when the opportunity came to apply to the yearly Student Diversity Leadership Conference in Seattle, Washington, I was hesitant to apply. I did not think I could travel across the country and engage with unfamiliar faces. However, with the encouragement of my elder peers of color and teachers, I decided to apply and lean into discomfort. The first day of the conference brought an abundance of rain, wind, and gloomy clouds. I bolted into the building to escape the weather and within a couple of seconds, found myself assigned to a “pod” away from the other people from my school. There, I met Asha and DJ. The group leaders matched us up to compose a poem about our life stories and journeys. Asha told us about Cocopah Indians, a tribe her family has been a part of for generations. She told us about the hardships that they face living on reservation, and other obstacles that she has witnessed and endured throughout her lifetime. DJ, who fled war, poverty, and religious persecution in Syria, came to the United States a few years prior. He told us about his time living in a refugee camp. In addition to struggles and adversities, he has had to overcome getting accustomed to a completely foreign place. I found it odd sharing details of my life that I had never told anyone else, especially sharing such personal details with individuals who I had only known for five minutes. However, it was empowering and freeing; we read our poem to the larger group and were met with applause and an outstanding level of support. By attending SDLC, I was able to become comfortable in my skin, while also interacting with people who had different life journeys. Also, this experience showed me that it is necessary to be open to trying new things in order to become more self-confident and have adventures that propel me to live, laugh, and learn.

During my time at Moses Brown, I have had the opportunity to take thought-provoking courses that intrigue me both on an emotional and intellectual level. In the fall of my senior year I took Psychology of Race, which examines the ways that the field of psychology has grappled with the idea of "race" in the 20th and 21st centuries. The course considered how African American social scientists and psychologists worked to dismantle harmful constructions of race while examining the impact of "race" on American society. It also acknowledged the current understanding of identity development and the enduring problem of racial biases in schools and society. This course was taught by Dr. Kelena Reid. When I first arrived at MB freshman year, I felt lost, unaccepted by both the white and black communities. Dr. Reid took me under her wing and provided a supportive atmosphere where I could share my thoughts. She has taught me how to be proud and unapologetically black, even when I felt pressure to conform to predominantly white environments. She introduced me to Racial Affinity groups and yearly diversity conferences where I could collaborate with students who share similar situations and identifiers as myself. She has also introduced me to the literature of influential activists such as Dr. Angela Davis, Ibram X. Kendi, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. Their works depict civil rights activism and address systematic racism and African Americans’ impact on society. I would love to continue learning about those individuals, and many more pioneers for racial justice, when I attend college. Dr. Reid’s influence shaped what is important to me in a college. When looking for colleges I considered the percentage of students of color, as well as access to clubs and organizations that promote the advancements of minority students. I’ve been drawn to colleges that have initiatives that promote the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of color and help destruct institutionalized racism. I want an environment where my opinions and presence are valued and cherished like they have been by Dr. Reid at MB. I know having an institution like that will only help me further grow as an individual. Dr. Reid has always championed the rights and advancement of students of color at Moses Brown, encourages advocacy, and prompts a caring learning atmosphere. Because of Dr. Reid, I hope to study African American history when I attend college, as well as take classes on economic and social inequalities that persist in minority communities. I want to take the lessons of engaged citizenship and moral obligation that I have learned and continue to be a vocal advocate for marginalized groups by joining organizations that fight for suppressed communities and working with my peers to create social media and public campaigns within collegiate and societal environments. Dr. Reid has been much more than an educator: she has been a friend, an ally, and a mentor, and the gifts she has bestowed upon me will accompany me into all of my future endeavors.

Growing up, my father would do and say rash things and act in strange ways. There would be days I didn’t know what mood I’d find him in. Sometimes he would be happy and filled with an abundance of joy, other days lashing out, and being in a blind rage for what I believed was no reason. I remember a few years ago my dad and I went whale watching. We drove down to Cape Cod and spent hours upon hours watching the magnificent creatures rise from the emerging seas and dive back in gracefully. I remember seeing the bright vivid smile on my dad's face and the look of awe and amazement on mine. We sat in the boat for what felt like hours, smiling, laughing, and filling my face with popcorn. The ride home was something very different; it was filled with an awkward silence. When we got home, he went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He stayed there for almost two days. My family and I were extremely worried about him. I felt helpless. He refused to eat or talk to anyone. I was in shock because hours prior we were having fun, laughing, and having the time of our lives. Being unable to solve what he was going through brought with it a great deal of pain. The uncertainty of my dad shifting personalities consumed a large portion of my high school years, from the time I was a freshman to early in my junior year. I would constantly be calling him in between classes to make sure he had gotten something to eat, ensuring that he was okay and checking to see if he had gotten enough sleep. On my way to work, I constantly called him, checking to see if he needed anything. I felt ashamed of myself that I could not understand or help him. Every time my family or I would bring up the topic of therapy he would say “I’m fine, I’m fine,” but we all knew he was struggling with something none of us could understand. It took over a year for my father to finally go and see a therapist. Being Ghanaian-American, my community rarely talked about mental illness; they simply wrote it off as being “crazy.” Having this type of mentality affected how I viewed people who suffered from mental illnesses. For such a long time, I thought that people who suffered from illness were simply crazy because that was what I was taught to believe. Constantly worrying about my father had an effect on my schoolwork. I found myself unable to be fully present in the classroom or even, at times, not able to study for assessments. I lost sleep, and before I knew it, my grades had started to decline. Every time someone would ask me what was wrong I would shake it off and say “I’m fine,” even though I had so much I wanted to say and talk about, but I thought no one truly cared. I thought I could not go to anyone with what I was feeling because I was not the person suffering. However, with the help of some good friends, I found a way to talk about what I was feeling about my dad and how it had such an effect on my daily routine. I have learned to deal with the issues within my home by seeking the guidance of supportive friends and family members. Doing this helped me express the feeling of sorrow and utter lack of hopelessness that I was going through. This journey has made me more conscious and aware of the struggles mental health poses on a significant portion of our global society. I want to be more of an advocate for people who have family members struggling through mental health issues.

Throughout my adolescence, my Ghanaian culture and heritage have played a significant role in how I view certain situations. My parents immigrated to the United States in the early 1990s, and underwent a series of struggles and adversities. It took them years of trials and tribulations to gain citizenship. Once they arrived, they were met with extreme xenophobia and racism. They worked in factories, making less than minimum wage, in order to provide a better life for their young children. Being from a family who worked tirelessly to give their children everything they did not have growing up has taught me valuable lessons on hard work, perseverance, and empathy, all qualities that I hope to carry to college. I have learned to approach inclusivity by learning to collaborate with people from different states, countries, and backgrounds, people that I am not used to seeing or engaging with in my current environment. In addition, I see myself becoming more culturally and socially competent about our global society, and being able to lean into discomfort in times of uncertainty. My parents instilled the value of picking myself up when adversities come my way. I will take the lessons that my parents and elders within my community have taught me in order to be a voice of positivity and reason to college.

Growing up, my father would do and say rash things and act in strange ways. There would be days I didn’t know what mood I’d find him in. Sometimes he would be happy and filled with an abundance of joy, other days lashing out, and being in a blind rage for what I believed was no reason. I remember a few years ago my dad and I went whale watching. We drove down to Cape Cod and spent hours upon hours watching the magnificent creatures rise from the emerging seas and dive back in gracefully. I remember seeing the bright vivid smile on my dad's face and the look of awe and amazement on mine. We sat in the boat for what felt like hours, smiling, laughing, and filling my face with popcorn. The ride home was something very different; it was filled with an awkward silence. When we got home, he went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He stayed there for almost two days. My family and I were extremely worried about him. I felt helpless. He refused to eat or talk to anyone. I was in shock because hours prior we were having fun, laughing, and having the time of our lives. Being unable to solve what he was going through brought with it a great deal of pain. The uncertainty of my dad shifting personalities consumed a large portion of my high school years, from the time I was a freshman to early in my junior year. I would constantly be calling him in between classes to make sure he had gotten something to eat, ensuring that he was okay and checking to see if he had gotten enough sleep. On my way to work, I constantly called him, checking to see if he needed anything. I felt ashamed of myself that I could not understand or help him. Every time my family or I would bring up the topic of therapy he would say “I’m fine, I’m fine,” but we all knew he was struggling with something none of us could understand. It took over a year for my father to finally go and see a therapist. Being Ghanaian-American, my community rarely talked about mental illness; they simply wrote it off as being “crazy.” Having this type of mentality affected how I viewed people who suffered from mental illnesses. For such a long time, I thought that people who suffered from illness were simply crazy because that was what I was taught to believe. Constantly worrying about my father had an effect on my schoolwork. I found myself unable to be fully present in the classroom or even, at times, not able to study for assessments. I lost sleep, and before I knew it, my grades had started to decline. Every time someone would ask me what was wrong I would shake it off and say “I’m fine,” even though I had so much I wanted to say and talk about, but I thought no one truly cared. I thought I could not go to anyone with what I was feeling because I was not the person suffering. However, with the help of some good friends, I found a way to talk about what I was feeling about my dad and how it had such an effect on my daily routine. I have learned to deal with the issues within my home by seeking the guidance of supportive friends and family members. Doing this helped me express the feeling of sorrow and utter lack of hopelessness that I was going through. This journey has made me more conscious and aware of the struggles mental health poses on a significant portion of our global society. I want to be more of an advocate for people who have family members struggling through mental health issues.

Arriving at Moses Brown I was completely unprepared for the demanding coursework that I was about to embark on. Many of the students around me had received world-class education from a young age; most, if not all, came from wealthy families who could afford private tutoring. Receiving mediocre grades made me feel unworthy of being here, as if maybe all the kids who told me that I did not have the academic ability to thrive were right. I fought to prove my intelligence and to convince my peers and myself that I belonged. I spent countless hours studying, trying to receive perfect grades. Each time I did not perform well on assignments and assessments further amplified my questioning of my intellectual potential to succeed. I began to make time after school to see the teachers of classes that I was having trouble with, and developed better studying habits and time management skills. Looking at my Spanish quiz one day, I saw that I had gotten the highest score in the class. This accomplishment brought reassurance in my ability to flourish at MB. Performing well proved that I had the intelligence to be successful. All the struggles that I endured academically, and figuring out how to overcome them, have taught me how to think critically and advocate for myself in times of crisis. The lessons that I have gained will further help me rise up, seeking out help and guidance when necessary, during moments of uncertainty and doubt.

During my time at Moses Brown, I have had the opportunity to take thought-provoking courses that intrigue me both on an emotional and intellectual level. In the fall of my senior year I took Psychology of Race, which examines the ways that the field of psychology has grappled with the idea of "race" in the 20th and 21st centuries. The course considered how African American social scientists and psychologists worked to dismantle harmful constructions of race while examining the impact of "race" on American society. It also acknowledged the current understanding of identity development and the enduring problem of racial biases in schools and society. This course was taught by Dr. Kelena Reid. When I first arrived at MB freshman year, I felt lost, unaccepted by both the white and black communities. Dr. Reid took me under her wing and provided a supportive atmosphere where I could share my thoughts. She has taught me how to be proud and unapologetically black, even when I felt pressure to conform to predominantly white environments. She introduced me to Racial Affinity groups and yearly diversity conferences where I could collaborate with students who share similar situations and identifiers as myself. She has also introduced me to the literature of influential activists such as Dr. Angela Davis, Ibram X. Kendi, and Ta-Nehisi Coates. Their works depict civil rights activism and address systematic racism and African Americans’ impact on society. I would love to continue learning about those individuals, and many more pioneers for racial justice, when I attend college. Dr. Reid’s influence shaped what is important to me in a college. When looking for colleges I considered the percentage of students of color, as well as access to clubs and organizations that promote the advancements of minority students. I’ve been drawn to colleges that have initiatives that promote the voices of Black, Indigenous, and people of color and help destruct institutionalized racism. I want an environment where my opinions and presence are valued and cherished like they have been by Dr. Reid at MB. I know having an institution like that will only help me further grow as an individual. Dr. Reid has always championed the rights and advancement of students of color at Moses Brown, encourages advocacy, and prompts a caring learning atmosphere. Because of Dr. Reid, I hope to study African American history when I attend college, as well as take classes on economic and social inequalities that persist in minority communities. I want to take the lessons of engaged citizenship and moral obligation that I have learned and continue to be a vocal advocate for marginalized groups by joining organizations that fight for suppressed communities and working with my peers to create social media and public campaigns within collegiate and societal environments. Dr. Reid has been much more than an educator: she has been a friend, an ally, and a mentor, and the gifts she has bestowed upon me will accompany me into all of my future endeavors.

Growing up, my father would do and say rash things and act in strange ways. There would be days I didn’t know what mood I’d find him in. Sometimes he would be happy and filled with an abundance of joy, other days lashing out, and being in a blind rage for what I believed was no reason. I remember a few years ago my dad and I went whale watching. We drove down to Cape Cod and spent hours upon hours watching the magnificent creatures rise from the emerging seas and dive back in gracefully. I remember seeing the bright vivid smile on my dad's face and the look of awe and amazement on mine. We sat in the boat for what felt like hours, smiling, laughing, and filling my face with popcorn. The ride home was something very different; it was filled with an awkward silence. When we got home, he went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He stayed there for almost two days. My family and I were extremely worried about him. I felt helpless. He refused to eat or talk to anyone. I was in shock because hours prior we were having fun, laughing, and having the time of our lives. Being unable to solve what he was going through brought with it a great deal of pain. The uncertainty of my dad shifting personalities consumed a large portion of my high school years, from the time I was a freshman to early in my junior year. I would constantly be calling him in between classes to make sure he had gotten something to eat, ensuring that he was okay and checking to see if he had gotten enough sleep. On my way to work, I constantly called him, checking to see if he needed anything. I felt ashamed of myself that I could not understand or help him. Every time my family or I would bring up the topic of therapy he would say “I’m fine, I’m fine,” but we all knew he was struggling with something none of us could understand. It took over a year for my father to finally go and see a therapist. Being Ghanaian-American, my community rarely talked about mental illness; they simply wrote it off as being “crazy.” Having this type of mentality affected how I viewed people who suffered from mental illnesses. For such a long time, I thought that people who suffered from illness were simply crazy because that was what I was taught to believe. Constantly worrying about my father had an effect on my schoolwork. I found myself unable to be fully present in the classroom or even, at times, not able to study for assessments. I lost sleep, and before I knew it, my grades had started to decline. Every time someone would ask me what was wrong I would shake it off and say “I’m fine,” even though I had so much I wanted to say and talk about, but I thought no one truly cared. I thought I could not go to anyone with what I was feeling because I was not the person suffering. However, with the help of some good friends, I found a way to talk about what I was feeling about my dad and how it had such an effect on my daily routine. I have learned to deal with the issues within my home by seeking the guidance of supportive friends and family members. Doing this helped me express the feeling of sorrow and utter lack of hopelessness that I was going through. This journey has made me more conscious and aware of the struggles mental health poses on a significant portion of our global society. I want to be more of an advocate for people who have family members struggling through mental health issues.