When I was 12, I watched it rain hair for the first time. As my sister snipped my damaged straight ends and started me on my natural hair journey, I watched it rain. Following that day, I would rely on wigs, synthetic braids, and hair pieces to conceal the true nature of my coily hair. It would not be until my sophomore year of high school that I embarked on the hardest part of my journey: wearing my natural hair in public. On the drive to school, I took to the internet; I looked for ways to calm my anxieties, trying to find magical 5-step guides. My hair was filled with coils whose beauty remained absent in my eyes. That day, however, my hair was met with heartwarming compliments from my peers and teachers. Feeling cheerful from the flow of compliments, I could not comprehend why I had felt so insecure. My state of perplexity remained until I realized that my insecurity was the offspring of the misogynoir and textureist behaviors that pervade society. Though filled with immense diversity, my high school was not safe from these prejudices, and so I felt apprehensive about displaying the beauty that sat on my head. With this new insight, I now felt increasingly compelled to work to eradicate these prejudices in my community.  At home and in my social circles, I fearlessly call out problematic behaviors when exhibited by friends and family. At school, for instance, I joined the Black Student Union, working to find ways to support and uplift black students at our school. It will take me a little more time to help all of society progress, however, my most profound step towards this occurred at my high school, outside my teacher's classroom.  After hearing that one of my favorite teachers had made jokes regarding Rosa Parks and the death of George Floyd, I was dumbfounded and truly hurt, but I knew I had to do something.  Standing confidently outside of my teacher's classroom, with a couple of other students who had witnessed my teacher's comments, I spoke of the mental and societal impact that their insensitivity would have on our school and students. Although my teacher persistently justified their comments, I and the other students involved did not give up in trying to convince them that their comments were inappropriate. We engaged in a passionate conversation, and soon enough my teacher recognized the inappropriate nature of their jokes and apologized. All students deserve to feel comfortable in their skin; they deserve an environment that welcomes and celebrates their identity. The feeling of being comfortable with displaying one's identity in any environment is a feeling that everyone deserves, and my experiences with being deprived of this feeling encourage me to advocate for marginalized groups by continuously trumping the bigoted behaviors I may encounter in my social and academic circles.  Racial adversity is a difficult thing to surmount and overcome. However, when we realize the power that our own voices have, we finally realize that speaking out against prejudicial behaviors can give us the boost that we need to overcome racial prejudice, and ultimately contribute to the fostering of a much more inclusive world.