Growing up on the south side of Chicago, I often get an inside look at all the psychological problems bubbling beneath Chicago’s surface. My city often displays issues surrounding the lack of mental health resources, homelessness, and drug abuse. Though not often, I do have the displeasure of witnessing and even being victim to hostile behavior, displayed due to a lack of emotional regulation. All of these issues are unfortunately caused by the lack of care and resources that Black, low-income communities receive. Consequently, many Black people are set up for failure from birth. This fuels my passion for becoming a clinical psychiatrist. I want to help my community avoid detrimental statistics and behaviors by aiding them in becoming emotionally healthy. Since my first year of college, I have been an active volunteer with Blue Cross and Blue Shield providing various resources to low-income communities in the Chicago area. These resources included free phones, fresh produce, and trade school opportunities. Through this experience, I had the honor of meeting many people from diverse backgrounds and witnessing firsthand how they were unable to support themselves financially, physically, and mentally. During my volunteering experience, I offered help in any way I could, including providing fresh fruits and vegetables and distributing informative health pamphlets about mental and physical health. This experience taught me the importance of community outreach and the positive impact it can have on people's lives. As I volunteered more, I quickly developed a deeper sense of empathy and care for those who were in need. The knowledge I gained has helped shape me into the woman I am today, and I am grateful for the opportunity to make a small difference in other people’s lives. While there is still much to be done about the lack of resources given to the Black community, this experience has fueled my goal of becoming a clinical psychiatrist. As I advance further in my education and future career, I see myself making a positive impact in my community within the medical field. As a clinical psychiatrist, my main goal is to help my community with their mental health in any way possible. I want to meet them where they are and create a safe place for growth. Unfortunately, statistics indicate that only 15% of Black people receive clinical psychological help. I hope to improve this number and help my community find acceptance for their trauma, and eventually inspire them to help others around them.

I was born in Harvey, Illinois, a small village located just 30 minutes away from the city of Chicago. I grew up in Lynwood, which is located a little further south from my birthplace. When visiting my grandparents in Harvey, while resting my head against my window I would look outside to see homeless, addiction-stricken, or mentally ill individuals being handed money from cars awaiting the green light. I recall driving past neglected potholes in the ground and later befriending children who were battling their own mental demons. In retrospect, I am certain that many of our struggles stemmed from growing up in toxic households, untreated ADHD, and unchecked autism. Sadly, at the time, we became accustomed to it, assuming that was just how things were for us. To the elite, villages like Harvey and the people who occupy them are viewed as hopeless, and danger lurks around every corner. However, even as a child, I have always seen the beauty within my own community. Picking apart and leaving Harvey for ruin sends a subconscious message to our community that we are not worth being invested in, both economically and mentally. As I gaze upon the once-beautiful homes, now slowly decaying ten years later from when I was younger, a feeling of despair creeps into my stomach. Providing mental health services to the Black community has been my goal since high school, as social work and psychology, have always interested me. However, I can not help but wonder if our dying communities play a significant role in the rising rates of depression and anxiety amongst Black people. The mental impacts of redlining in Chicago have been devastating for marginalized communities. White neighborhoods have access to a variety of resources such as vegan shops and libraries to keep their children engaged during summer, while Black and Brown communities often have only a single upgraded McDonald's to rely on until they are gentrified by the very people who left these communities in the first place. Additionally, numerous studies have linked poor nutrition to negative mental health. In my vision for optimal mental health in my community, I imagine locally grown produce being provided to everyone, despite their socioeconomic status. This reduces the stress levels of those who worry about their next meal while joining others together. I also envision more greenery along streets and parks as studies show that being around nature produces feelings of calmness, serenity, and creativity. Public libraries and community centers should host meditation and Pilates classes that encourage emotional processing and body movement to aid in mental health. Additionally, free psychiatric evaluations should be provided to the Black community, as studies show that only 25% of African Americans seek mental health care compared to their white counterparts at 40%. Although my goal is to become a clinical psychiatrist, I know that mental health counseling is only part of the solution. Living a mindful life starts with your daily routine and extends to your community. In America, which is a hyper-individualistic society, we often promote isolation. However, we must remember that it takes a village to support one another, which fosters a sense of unity and safety. When I was a freshman in college, I was battling depression. Communicating with others helped me overcome this, and I sought out friends who saved me from the dark pit of despair. During my sophomore year, I helped create Sisters, a safe space for Black women and non-binary students to study, exercise, and talk about mental health. I plan to continue doing this work in the future, one step at a time.

The year 2020 was hard on everyone. Schools were shut down, face masks were mandatory, and holidays were spent in the house away from family. I remember it being my senior year in high school, and like everyone else in my grade I never expected a pandemic to take away the milestones that come with having a senior year. I spent the majority of that year in my room attending virtual classes and having little to no interaction with anyone my age. Though the time away from my high school was nice, I begin to feel a strong sense of anxiety and depression from being inside for long amounts of time. The news about hearing covid spread became detrimental to my mental health and I did everything I could to keep away from it. I reached out to as many friends as possible, still processing the fact that this pandemic will be a little longer than expected. Prom is gone. Senior trips are gone, and on top of that, I had to worry about finding a college to go to. I had nobody to talk to about this and felt like I had little support. Nobody older than me understood how left out I felt, like the last piece of my childhood was being taken away from me. My experience going virtual during the pandemic threw my mental healthy completely off and finally speaking to my school’s psychiatrist helped open my eyes to the events that were going on around me. By the time applying for colleges came, I knew exactly what I wanted to major in. Psychology. I choose psychology as a major because I saw the changes impacted on me by the pandemic and can only imagine how others in worse situations were struggling mentally. Especially young adults who are people of color. Many struggled with finding jobs and getting laid off, while essential workers were working overtime to provide for everyone else. I believe that low-income, BIPOC people deserve attention when it comes to their mental health. As a psychology major, I aim to learn more about these vulnerable people who were often forgotten about and discarded still to this day. These types of people are the ones I aim to help and cater to the way others have failed to do so. I hope to find solutions and be a guide to young black women like myself when the pandemic started, that way our mental health is taken more seriously. This scholarship would help me a lot, as my school does not provide me with any financial aid. I also am not a part of any school grants this year to help me financially. As the student engagement coordinator for an organization at my school named Sisters, it is a requirement to live on campus which much of my money is going into. I also plan on going to medical school, which is also costly. This scholarship would help me continue my pursuit of helping young people of color with their mental health and making them feel seen. I believe that to solve an issue within our community, we must be the ones to first act upon it. I plan on aiding Black women with their mental health to not play into the “strong black woman” stereotypes. I want others to know that it is ok to not be ok, which fuels my passion for mental health and psychology for people who look like me.

Growing up, I wanted to be everything in the book. I remember one of the first things I wanted to be was a teacher because I saw how focused and dedicated my kindergarten teacher was. That quickly shifted when I went to middle school, changing my mind to become a marine biologist instead, an astronaut, or maybe a civil rights attorney. I knew immediately that to achieve my wild variety of goals, I had to take my studies seriously. Going to college has always been a non-negotiable for me in my household, as my parents never got their degrees to care for my brothers and me. They always wanted better for me, so they invested a lot of time and money into my education. This led to me going to many tutoring sessions, sleepless nights of studying, and being a part of school sports like volleyball and track to keep my mind stimulated and away from trouble. I have been in several AP, honors, and dual credit courses in high school. To me, going to a good college to become a doctor was my main goal, and if I had to let go of any social outings or even team practices to study for a test, I would do so. Being in high school was an opportunity for self-discovery and finding my voice. While in classes, I would often face the harshness of bullying by my female peers because of how quiet I was. I remember being harassed by a number of girls over the length of my hair, my shy demeanor, or whoever I associated myself with at the moment. Some of these encounters even turned dangerous, as they would confront me over ludicrous situations that did not have to result in me being attacked. I begin to fall into a deep depression after being sexually harassed by one of my male classmates. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, leading me into a downward spiral as I began to lose weight and focus on my classes. I begin seeing my school’s psychiatrist and talking things through with her. She validated my feelings, which was something I never knew I needed as I thought I was unworthy of receiving it. Seeing her gave me the strength and softness I needed when processing my own emotions while learning to stick up for myself when going through tough situations in life. My time with her inspired me to pursue an education in psychology so that I can help young black girls with their mental health like myself. Slowly, but surely, I begin to find enjoyment in my education and social life again. I kept pushing through until I got my diploma and was accepted into my current school UIC. I now take pride in socializing with others while still holding my own and creating boundaries with anyone who makes me uncomfortable. I know when to stand up for myself and take pride in what I believe in, and know how to divide my time between work and play. Being bullied and harassed is not an ideal thing to go through, but the lessons that come with it turned me into a strong woman going into my adulthood.