One of the most defining challenges I have faced has been learning how to navigate school while managing diagnoses of PTSD, ADHD, and PMDD—conditions that often made it difficult to engage with education in the ways it is traditionally structured. For much of my academic journey, I was seen as capable but inconsistent, giving my all one week but unable to complete any work the next. It took time for me to understand that this disconnect was not a lack of discipline, but the result of learning differences that were not being adequately supported. In my community, conversations around learning differences and mental health were often minimized, misunderstood, or not taken seriously at all. As a Black student, I grew up in environments where these challenges were rarely named, and when they were, they were not always believed or addressed with care. Because of this, I learned early on to push through and to perform no matter what. By the time I reached high school, I was not only navigating academic expectations as a minority at my institution but also carrying struggles that had never been fully acknowledged. I eventually had to seek out care on my own, making doctors appointments and trips unbeknownst to my family. Without early intervention or guidance, I spent years trying to understand why certain things felt harder for me than they seemed for others—why focusing for long periods was exhausting, why emotional regulation could feel overwhelming, or why my productivity fluctuated so drastically. Receiving my diagnoses brought clarity, but it also highlighted how long I had been navigating these challenges without support. I did not receive formal ADA accommodations until my senior year of high school, after turning 18. Before that point, I relied on coping strategies that were often unsustainable. I masked my struggles, overextended myself, and internalized the idea that I simply needed to try harder. This led to burnout, frustration, and moments where I questioned my own abilities. However, finally receiving accommodations marked a turning point, showing me that I never lacking ability but access. The moment I had something as simple as a bit more time to complete things, the burden wasn't so heavy anymore. Instead of continuing to measure myself against standards that did not account for my needs, I began to redefine what success looked like for me. I learned how to advocate for myself—seeking out resources, communicating my needs, and building systems that actually supported how I learn and function. This shift required me to unlearn the idea that struggling in silence was normal and showed me that the love based solely on performance that I grew up with wasn't normal. It also made me more aware of how many students with learning differences—especially those from marginalized communities—are overlooked or dismissed entirely. Too often, students are expected to adapt to systems that were never designed with them in mind. These experiences have given me both direction and purpose as I am now committed to a career in full time social work and counseling to supporting children and young adults with learning disabilities and mental health challenges, particularly those who, like me, were not taken seriously early on. My goal is to open a series of community centers that provide accessible, culturally responsive mental health care, academic support, and early intervention services for children and families, providing mentorship and support for youth ages 5 to 25. While difficult, I am using my personal challenges as momentum to ensure that other students are seen, believed, and supported from the beginning, not as an exception, but as a standard.

My name is Kalieyah Johnson, and I am an undergraduate student at Howard University pursuing a path in social work and clinical psychology, with a commitment to making a positive impact through both direct care and systems-level change. My vision for a just future is one where every child has an equal opportunity to achieve their goals, no matter their background, gender orientation, or socioeconomic status. I have already begun working toward this vision through my professional experiences. Shortly after high school, I worked as a lead teacher at JHB Childcare Group, where I supported children from three months to twelve years old, many with behavioral disorders, learning disabilities, and emotional regulation challenges. I saw how unaddressed trauma was often misinterpreted as “misbehavior,” particularly for BIPOC children who were labeled “defiant” or “at risk.” Now, as a Behavior Technician providing ABA therapy, I help implement treatment plans that support communication, emotional regulation, and developmental goals while working directly with children and their caregivers. These experiences have reinforced my belief that meaningful change begins with supporting families and increasing access to culturally responsive care, which is how I plan to make a positive impact through my chosen field. The causes I support and am actively involved in center on mental health equity, racial justice, and advocacy for survivors of sexual and domestic violence. These causes are deeply personal. Growing up a minority in Seattle, I witnessed violence, loss, and limited access to resources in my community, and when resources were available, many did not have the understanding required to apply and retain them. At fifteen, I experienced sexual assault, followed by domestic violence and harassment, which shaped my understanding of trauma and the barriers many face when seeking help. In 2021, I began publicly addressing systemic inequalities affecting Black Americans, the normalization of rape culture, and violence in my community. Inspired by the #METOO and #BLM movements, I organized rallies and walkouts, created anonymous online spaces for survivors, and worked with local organizations to make resources more accessible. In 2023, I published Before & After You: A Guide to Healing and Recovery after Sexual Assault to support others navigating similar experiences. At Howard University, I continue this work by hosting campus events and volunteering with Title IX and student support services. These causes are important to me because I have experienced firsthand how silence and stigma prevent people from seeking help, allowing inequities in care and support to persist, and I am committed to ensuring others do not have to navigate those barriers alone. Through coursework in Psychology of Gender, Juvenile Delinquency, Social Theory & Society, and Victimology, I have examined trauma at both individual and structural levels. As I pursue graduate-level training and continue research on mental health disparities, labeling theory, and barriers to care, I am equipping myself to translate knowledge into action through both clinical practice and systems-level advocacy. In the long term, I plan to open community centers and counseling firms in diverse communities across the United States, creating accessible spaces that address trauma, expand opportunities, and implement community-based support programs. I also aim to launch a nonprofit helpline providing virtual care for survivors of domestic violence. Through my chosen field, I am committed to advancing equity and creating sustainable change—one child, one family, and one community at a time.

Howard will always hold a special place in my heart because it is here that I have learned who I am outside of what everyone has always told me to be. I chose to attend Howard because I wanted to be surrounded by others who are deeply committed to uplifting our communities and advancing social change. Growing up in Seattle and attending a PWI, I was the minority and often felt the weight of being underrepresented in academic and outside spaces. The experiences I had shaped my desire to study ethnic-based psychology and sociology so I could better understand how culture, identity, and systemic forces impact mental health and community well-being. Moving in freshman year and being surrounded by people of color on and off campus demonstrated what Black excellence in scholarship and career looks like. Black management at home was rare but here it became a new normal and affirmed my passion for helping other Black kids see and achieve more. For the first time I felt like I truly had a village-- I was supported by my friends, had opportunities to pursue business endeavors on campus, and had professors passionate about their work, which pushed me deeper into mine. I aspire to open a series of counseling firms and community centers for youth of color nationwide, providing practical resources as well as career and educational opportunities, and I strongly believe Howard has kept my dream alive and shown me it is possible.

Mental health care shouldn't be a privilege, yet for too many young people in BIPOC communities, it often feels out of reach. I want to change this by creating accessible mental health resources that combine art and creative expression, psychology, and community-based approaches, meeting all youth where they are. Art has the power to heal in ways that traditional therapy sometimes cannot, and as someone who grew up immersed in studio arts, dance, and theatre, art became my lifeline when I faced adversity. My personal experience navigating trauma, stress, uncertainty, and cultural expectations has strengthened my commitment to ensuring that no young person feels isolated or silenced. As a student pursuing a career in psychology and social work, I’ve witnessed firsthand how inaccessibility and stigma prevent young people from seeking help and I aim to address this by harnessing the power of community restoration and expressive healing. My goal is to break down the stereotypes and stigmas that too often tell Black and Brown youth that asking for help is weakness, replacing them with a culture that celebrates mental wellness as strength, as well as address barriers that prevent access to treatment, such as prohibitive costs. By creating spaces where mental health is normalized and support is available through workshops, community projects, and online resources, I am confident I can make care accessible, culturally responsive, and a source of strength, while fostering a generation of Black and Brown youth who see asking for help as an act of courage.

I grew up in church with parents who were leaders in ministry and as a result was raised to take care of those around me because that is what we are called to do as believers. While I was always contributing, my personal involvement began in 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic left food banks overwhelmed and families struggling across the greater Seattle area. My church called on volunteers to step in and I answered by helping pack wellness bags and driving with fellow church members and community officials to distribute food and hygiene supplies to people experiencing homelessness and food insecurity. Those moments downtown, speaking with individuals who were often overlooked by society, shifted something in me as I began to see shared qualities between myself and the youth we encountered on the streets. It was then I realized that service is not only about meeting basic needs but also about creating space for joy and hope in which people can truly encounter Christ in and through me. Shortly after volunteering, I began a nonprofit outreach ministry offering free dance lessons to children and youth experiencing poverty, called K-dance. The name plays off the word “cadence,” symbolizing rhythm, movement, and forward momentum with a K for Kingdom and my name, Kalieyah. I was able to make a difference firsthand by instilling values and building children's confidence through something as simple as positive affirmations that spoke life over them. My goal was not just to teach choreography but to provide a safe place where children could feel seen, heard, and celebrated, even in the midst of difficult circumstances. The work I started continues to shape me as it has taught me that faith without action is incomplete, and that even small gestures—whether a bag of food, a kind word, or a dance class—can ripple outward to have a big impact. My drive comes from knowing that poverty and injustice are not struggles one person can fight alone; it takes a community and while my church gave me the foundation of service, my own faith pushed me to create something of my own that acknowledges those who are overlooked, in a way that uses the gifts given to me. Since graduating high school and moving to college across the country, I have left my parents church and joined another in Washington DC, where I continue regular community service monthly as well as lead Bible study at my school. Today, I carry that same cadence forward as I stay involved in praise dance and aim to walk in purpose, leading with love, and striving to create change wherever God calls me.

My name is Kalieyah. I'm 18 and a high school senior in Seattle. I am interested in pursuing a career in psychology and social work; I will counsel children and teens with mental illness and substance use disorders. I plan to open a series of national community centers to help get kids off the streets and give them somewhere to go. I hold a strong belief that there needs to be more education on substance use and how to both avoid it and assist others in their recovery. Unfortunately, many young people start using and abusing drugs to cope with life stressors or trauma and are never able to break the cycle they have entered. Substance use disorder is a serious condition and education about it in school curriculums would help to normalize the issue and draw awareness to it. It not only affects the people struggling but ripples out to everyone around them and those in the communities. I have many friends that I've watched become addicted to various substances. The fentanyl epidemic in Washinton state has taken a toll on youth here. Many people have either gotten laced or knowingly begun using or taking "blues" or fake per costs. Unfortunately, many students have become hooked on various drugs and developed addictive tendencies that caused many people around me to change or stop progressing positively. One of my friends that lost his battle took his own life and his sisters while using. I have seen the good in people struggling as well as the bad that tries to kill them. It is heartbreaking to watch someone you once knew to be so successful, beautiful, and/ or bright fall into substance use and lose themselves completely. I hate to watch people I know or love fall down or throw away their hard work so I aim to help them find care or treatment, and progress and recover. Education on substances, substance use and other options to replace drug use is extremely important as people are dying every day and youth are normalizing substance dependence. I want to help people recover by teaching about the use of substances and substance disorder, as well as addiction and breaking the cycle of both addiction and dependency on drugs from all aspects. This plan starts with education on what's going on, why encouraging this behavior is wrong, how to help others you see struggling, where to find resources for you or those around you and more. I hope to make a positive impact on others and society as a whole by helping to aid in recovery and present other coping options for those struggling with substance use disorders.