I believe wholeheartedly that the eyes are the window to the soul. When I look into my mother’s eyes during a difficult period in her life, I did not see the warmth I once expected from her. Instead, I saw exhaustion, loss, and a quiet kind of despair. This was during the final stretch of her marriage with my father, when financial strain had become overwhelming. He had made choices that left us roughly $20,000 behind on the mortgage, and the pressure of it all destroyed our home life. My father expressed a lot of regret over decisions he made early in his life, including marrying too young, leading to his eventual break, ultimately resulting in the divorce. My mother has always been the person I am closest to in the world. She is my guardian and my first experience of unconditional love. Even now, when I am much older and much more independent, she remains a constant presence in my life. But during that period, the maternal softness in her eyes seemed to fade. She became a hollowed, worn-down version of herself, carrying burdens far too heavy for one person. Soon after we lost stability, she worked tirelessly to keep us from homelessness, never once asking for anything in return. From her, I learned what true selflessness looks like. In my senior year, I began speaking with her more openly and maturely. I allowed her space to talk about her frustrations, her exhaustion, and the weight she carried. Outside of work, she leaned heavily on her faith, but I also realized she needed emotional support from the people closest to her. We would sit together in a nearly empty room with only a mattress and a fan, and in those quiet moments, I began to understand her as a person rather than just a parent. She shared her fears, hopes, and struggles, and slowly, she seemed to feel a little lighter each day we talked. Through her work at a medical cleaning facility, I also learned about the importance of cleanliness in healthcare and the unseen labor that keeps medical environments safe. After years away from school, she returned to college while continuing to work, carrying an intense workload almost entirely on her own. Watching her persistence, I began to respect medical professionals who serve behind the scenes. I saw firsthand how vital their care can be. Inspired by my mother’s resilience, I chose to volunteer in a similar environment, helping clean the facility where she worked. I assisted with maintaining waiting areas, disposing of waste, and organizing spaces used for medical testing and care. The work mattered to me because it supported nurses and doctors who dedicate their lives to helping others. Through this experience, I learned that selflessness is not defined by grand gestures, but by consistent acts of service, even when no recognition is given. My mother showed me that strength can look like quiet sacrifice, and I have tried to reflect that same mindset in how I support others in need.

My awkward “quirk” ever since I began to speak up for myself has been my ability to debate. I grew up with selective mutism, which already made me incredibly awkward as it was. It was severe enough that during roll call, I would refuse to say “here” out of pure anxiety. There was one time when I lived in New York where I had left my snow boots in the wrong place outside my cubby. The substitute teacher was already fed up with the class. We all had candy that day, and I was clutching mine as she began demanding to know whose shoes they were and raising her voice. I didn’t speak up, but I started crying. I think I made her feel bad with my silent reaction, because I had actually been one of the only students who continuously was very good all day, and some students even tried to comfort me and give me their candy. I was known as quiet my entire life, and I received a lot of praise for a condition I could not control nor understand. I never really spoke at home either, only with my mother, but I was always listening. I was paying attention to everything, even when I didn’t say much. And over time, that turned into something else entirely. I became very opinionated. Once I began to talk, it was like something flipped. If I had something to say, I REALLY had something to say. I can talk about almost anything as long as there’s some kind of argument behind it. In school, I think this made people see me as competitive and a little weird, but I honestly didn’t care. I genuinely debated a kid about why his favorite color was wrong and why mine was superior. My reasoning was that green has too many hues and shades that can look sickly or dull, and it can also be associated with germs or sickness. I fully stood by that argument at the time. But in a strange way, this ability has helped me a lot. I’ve been told more than once that I should join a debate team, which I’m seriously considering, but it also helps me with in-the-moment problem solving. I can build an argument almost instantly based on someone’s standpoint, and I can see both sides of things pretty quickly, even when I disagree. It’s a unique, slightly awkward ability, but it’s one I’m proud of. I used to be someone who couldn’t even say “here” in class, and now I can confidently speak, argue, and express myself in a way that actually gets people to listen. It definitely makes me stand out but in a way I’ve learned to appreciate.

My dad is a businessman, yet it’s never always been that way. My dad served in the military. He was in the Army and deployed in Iraq. He began serving when I was born, back in 2008, and continued his service for 10 years after that to maintain a livable wage for our growing family. My dad is a businessman, but it’s never always been that way. I remember FaceTiming him as he was far away in another country. It was odd as a child seeing my father, a man I barely knew, talking to me through a screen, and I barely understood the weight of stress and fear behind his eyes as he waved, smiled, wished me a happy birthday, and told me how much he loved me. But I didn’t understand why, because he was so far away and I barely knew him. My father is a businessman, but it’s never always been that way. I heard stories from my mother about him, how his PTSD bothers him and how it has affected his ability to be a father. He has a fear of crowds, never knowing what to expect, so he often refrains from entering large spaces with many people like the mall. He drives abnormally. He believes he has to drive in the middle of the road because he imagines mines and relives the same exact day he watched his friend explode and die while driving. Sometimes he would bark orders at people, and sometimes he would seem to think so deeply about something that I never knew could be a thought that he would silently ponder for hours. He began going to the doctor more. It turned out he was disabled. His back wasn’t right because of the military. He became less active, simply taking his outdoor time as a chance to smoke a cigar or grill while listening to music. He prefers his alone time now. Even though he was never there before, always so far away because of his deployment. Who knows where he went? All we did was follow his tracks even when he was absent, moving all over the United States to maintain our semblance of family. So along with no dad, I had no long-term friendships, and no permanent home. In the end, he became distant. Very distant. My dad is a businessman, and I follow in his footsteps. After all of this, I still look up to him. We are very different, and I do not understand him at times, and I barely know him, but I do know he is a man who has risked his life for me and his country. I want to be fearless, motivated, and driven like him. After all of it, he still has two master’s degrees. After all of it, he works two jobs. After all of it, he is a businessman, but it’s never always been that way. I want to be a businesswoman. My father’s journey through the years he served showed me that success is not linear, and that discipline often comes from sacrifice. Even though I have had to grow up with distance and uncertainty, it has made me more observant, resilient, and motivated to create stability in my own future. Because of this, I want to pursue business not only as a career, but as a way to understand people, lead effectively, and build environments where others can succeed even through challenges.

I am known for being incredibly passionate. You could ask anybody who knows me, my mother, my siblings, my best friends, or even my acquaintances. I am known for passion. This passion has shaped many of the decisions I have made throughout my life, including my decision to begin volunteer work at a medical facility during my senior year of high school. At that time in my life, I lived in a household full of older family members, including my great-grandfather, my great-aunt, my great-uncle, and my great-aunt’s husband. Watching how essential medical services became as they continued getting older made me realize just how important healthcare facilities are and how much work goes into keeping them running smoothly. After witnessing my great-grandfather suffer a stroke and become hospitalized, I spent more time visiting medical facilities and seeing healthcare workers in action. Those experiences opened my eyes. I was amazed by how quickly and professionally the staff worked, how efficient they were, and how clean and organized the environment remained despite the constant action. I would also visit my great-aunt, who struggled with Parkinson’s disease, and hear about how helpful and dedicated the staff was in caring for her. These experiences made me realize that the quality of care my family received depended on more than just doctors and nurses. Healthcare professionals perform best when they have a clean, safe, and maintained environment to work in. An unclean workspace can affect both staff and patients, creating unnecessary risks and making it harder to provide the level of care people deserve. Realizing this inspired me to contribute in any way I could, which ultimately led me to volunteer. My mother worked at a facility at the time that provided medical care which needed deep cleaning to maintain quality care. Using her as a way to connect with the right people, I began volunteering at Advanced Urology Conyers. Stepping into that environment felt meaningful to me. I was already aware of how important clean medical spaces are for both patients and staff, and it gave me a chance to support both the healthcare team and the patients they served. So began a tradition rooted in my passion for helping others as a volunteer. I started volunteering on a regular schedule, eventually committing to cleaning the facility for 2–3 hours each shift. This included a small laboratory, multiple patient rooms, the general waiting area, and nurse workspaces every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Over time, this schedule became second nature to me. What began as volunteering at a small medical facility grew into a discipline I carry with me today. If not for my passion, I likely would never have considered volunteering, but my family helped open my eyes to the importance of helping others after I witnessed how much healthcare workers supported them. As I begin my studies in Business Management at Georgia State University, I hope to apply these same values where I can lead, organize, and create meaningful impact at my school. One of my goals is to become a human resources manager. In that role, I hope to foster positive work environments, support employees, and ensure organizations operate smoothly and fairly. This scholarship would help make that possible by reducing financial stress and allowing me to dedicate myself more fully to my academic and career development. Overall, I’m looking forward to continuing to grow, personally and professionally. I want to stay passionate and maintain my desire to help others. No matter where Business Management takes me, my goal is to create positive environments where people feel supported and valued.

“The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.” This quote by Juliette Lewis resonates with me deeply. For a long time, I believed I was weak for struggling. I felt that barely forcing myself to live every day was not only meaningless, but pathetic. Summoning the strength to persevere when everything seems murky, as if looking through a clouded window with no clear image felt hopeless. It’s more than just hard. It’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to keep looking, straining your eyes and hoping that you’ll finally be able to see what’s on the other side. It’s exhausting. Since I was eleven, I have struggled with suicidal tendencies. My childhood was defined by constant conflict between my parents, which often leaned into domestic violence. Because of their struggles, I grew up believing their pain was my fault. Their anger was projected onto me, and I was frequently pulled into the middle of their quarrels, forced to choose sides while being verbally berated for simply existing. Living in an environment dictated by hostility destroyed my early understanding of relationships. Instead of learning to express myself through the typical blissful innocence of a child, I learned to connect through fear and walking on eggshells. Outside of the home, I found no refuge. I faced constant ridicule and bullying for being a young Black woman with niche interests and a quiet personality. These stressors led me down a dark path on social media where, seeking support in the wrong places, I became a victim of sexual harassment and abuse. These experiences pushed me into a darkness where I believed I could never escape. I hated who I was and felt I was an "unfit" or "repulsive" misfit who deserved this treatment. I retreated into my room, becoming a hermit. Without support, I felt entirely alone. This isolation altered my understanding of the world. I began to view society as a inherently hostile place where vulnerability was a liability. Looking back now, those moments stay with me. Not as a painful memory, but as a reminder that things do get better. To anyone struggling, "it gets better" can feel like an empty phrase, but I am living proof of its truth. My life still holds intense adversities, including displacement, financial hardship, and ongoing family mistreatment. However, these hardships no longer define how my life should end. They define how I persevere. This perseverance has completely transformed my approach to relationships. Instead of tolerating mistreatment out of guilt, I now seek out and nurture connections rooted in empathy, accountability, and emotional safety. Surviving this darkness has also rewritten my understanding of the world. I no longer see it merely through the lens of the trauma inflicted upon me, but as a complex space where pain and joy can coexist. As a senior graduating from high school, I am standing in a place I once couldn't even imagine. The obstacles I overcame have highlighted my future goals. Moving forward, I am determined to use my academic journey to empower youth who feel as invisible and unprotected as I once did, turning my lived experience into actionable advocacy. Without the bravery of continuing when all hope seemed lost, I would have never experienced the beauty and blessings of being alive today. Suicide is a real and devastating issue for teenagers, but it can be beaten through self-love, growth, and the courage to keep looking through the window until the view finally clears.

I see myself as a leader, however… I never wanted to be a leader. As a kid, I was a hermit, someone who suffered from selective mutism and always wanted to cower behind the next person ready to take control of a situation. However, as I grew up as a young Black woman, moving consistently across a multitude of states, all I want to be now is a leader. If I make a positive impact, I want it to be known and recognized. I do not want recognition for myself, but for the act itself. Actions hold more importance to me than self-recognition. Being Black is central to my identity, and as someone who identifies as such, I want to do everything I can to uplift and empower young Black women in my community. Too often, young Black women are looked down upon or held to assumptions based on harmful stereotypes. Wearing wigs and having weave is considered ghetto and lazy, naturally curly hair is deemed unprofessional, unique and flashy styles are viewed as unflattering, and simply being different is shunned. Yet, Black women are diverse and incredibly versatile in the ways they move and make things work. Our hair, style, and self-expression are not symbols of our capability or intellect, yet society routinely uses them as tools for exclusion. This narrow-minded scrutiny forces many young women to suppress their authenticity. This constant policing of our identity ignores the rich history of resilience and creativity deeply embedded in Black womanhood. Our adaptability is a PROFOUND ABILITY. We transform limitations into INNOVATION, turning personal expression into a celebration of CULTURE and STRENGTH. True inclusion means dismantling these restrictive, outdated standards so that our sisters do not have to compromise who they are to achieve success. By embracing expression, we redefine leadership on our own terms. That is why I strive to launch a personal initiative to promote economic and social inclusion by collaborating with local leaders to create mentorship programs for minority youth. By fostering professional excellence, I believe I can effectively counter the narratives that suppress Black women and other groups. I want to change the narrative about Black people, and particularly, my sisters. I may not have wanted to be a leader originally, but as I have grown and experienced life, I have realized that being a leader is now all I want to do. I want to leave an impact, and a positive one.

The majority of my childhood was spent in silence. While other children took this crucial opportunity to learn how to build relationships with their peers, I remained completely silent for the first eight years of my life. In this silence, I was praised for my ability to remain quiet in a learning environment, while deep down, I was being tortured by the severity of my anxiety. Roll call meant meekly raising my hand in hopes of another student speaking up for me, and my time on the playground was spent silently engaging in playtime, unable to make a peep. I never knew anything was wrong with me, and that remained the case until I moved to New York. I was assigned a speech therapist at my school who realized I had a speaking issue. This unresolved issue led to me struggling with basic pronunciation, resulting in me spending hours out of class, being taught how to create the correct sounds for letters; sounds like 'j', 's', 't', and 'p' all seemed foreign to me. However, this led to me receiving positive incentives to speak, such as showing off my new skills in saying words like “snake” and “seconds.” I received stickers for each day of the week I made progress, leading up to an end-of-the-week treat for my learning. This didn't mean all was okay, however. I succumbed to my silence often, leading to moments where my chest would tighten and I’d have heavy breathing at the prospect of simply having to speak on my own. I relied on friends and family, and since I was so young, nobody ever pushed me to try for myself, to speak up. So, I’d crumble and let everyone take over for me. Now that I’m older, I don’t have an issue with anxiety holding me back from speaking. At times I can be relatively shy, but I am proud of the progress I have made regarding my time living in silence. Using my newfound voice, I make sure to be much more extroverted, living the life that I wished I did all those years ago when childhood made connection much easier. Before, I’d be considered quiet, shy, meek, and kept to myself; now I am loud, extroverted, fun-loving, adventurous, and a leader. Pursuing a higher education, in my eyes, means taking a step that the me before, and even the me now, needs. I will be forced to make more connections and speak for myself. I won't have to rely on anybody, and I believe this will heal a part of me that was completely shut off. I want to use my voice for what I believe in. Whether that is advocacy for Black women empowerment or the dismantling of unfair stereotypes present today, I am able to use the voice I never had as a child.

Investing, investing, investing. It’s all about investing in my eyes. It doesn’t have to be just money. Investing in yourself, your skills, and your mindset is what ultimately builds the foundation for financial literacy. In my life, I have experienced the extreme highs of wealth and the jarring lows of poverty. My father was a true entrepreneur, a businessman with multiple master’s degrees who knew how to navigate management fields. His success allowed him to accumulate enough wealth to position our family in the wealthiest county in Alabama. Then, there is me now. Due to a series of poor financial decisions, my family is currently displaced. We live in a house crowded with family members who make it clear they want us gone. My father’s credit is in ruins, and he works two grueling jobs just to keep us afloat, all while becoming increasingly disconnected from the family he’s trying to support. While he invested heavily in his formal education, he fell into a dangerous trap. He felt so secure in his wealth that he stopped diversifying. He neglected to invest in other avenues and instead splurged on materialistic things like cars and shoes that look like wealth but lose value the moment you buy them. He was focused on the appearance of success rather than the sustainability of it. I finally found my own footing in financial education when I took a course in economics and personal finance. It didn’t just open my eyes, it simplified a world that always felt too "adult" for me to handle. I realized that managing money isn't a secret code… it's just a set of tools. My favorite area to explore was investing. I learned about things like Roth IRAs, which are essentially tax-free growth buckets. You put in money that’s already been taxed, and it grows quietly until retirement, at which point every penny of profit is yours to keep, untouched by the IRS. I also delved into Mutual Funds, which allow you to pool your money with other investors to buy a ton of various stocks or bonds. It’s a way to grow your wealth through diversification, ensuring that your future isn't tied to the success or failure of just one company. Why is this so important? Why does financial literacy matter so much? It’s important because it provides a shield. It teaches you the difference between an asset that feeds you and a liability that eats you. It gives you the power to make your money work for you through compound interest, rather than spending your life working for every dollar. I plan to use this literacy to ensure me now never becomes me forever. I will better my future by prioritizing long-term stability over short-term status. By understanding how to manage credit, build emergency funds, and consistently contribute to diversified investments, I am building a life that can withstand a storm. My father showed me how to earn money, but my financial education is teaching me how to make it last.

“The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die.” This quote by Juliette Lewis resonates with me deeply. For a long time, I believed I was weak for struggling. I felt that barely forcing myself to live every day was not only meaningless, but pathetic. Summoning the strength to persevere when everything seems murky, as if looking through a clouded window with no clear image felt hopeless. It’s more than just hard. It’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to keep looking, straining your eyes and hoping that you’ll finally be able to see what’s on the other side. It’s exhausting. Since I was eleven, I have struggled with suicidal tendencies. My childhood was defined by constant conflict between my parents, which often leaned into domestic violence. Because of their struggles, I grew up believing their pain was my fault. Their anger was projected onto me, and I was frequently pulled into the middle of their quarrels, forced to choose sides while being verbally berated for simply existing. Outside of the home, I found no refuge. I faced constant ridicule and bullying for being a young Black woman with niche interests and a quiet personality. These stressors led me down a dark path on social media where, seeking support in the wrong places, I became a victim of sexual harassment and abuse. These experiences pushed me into a darkness where I believed I could never escape. I hated who I was and felt I was an "unfit" or "repulsive" misfit who deserved this treatment. I retreated into my room, becoming a hermit. Without support, I felt entirely alone. Looking back now, those moments stay with me. Not as a painful memory, but as a reminder that things do get better. To anyone struggling, "it gets better" can feel like an empty phrase, but I am living proof of its truth. My life still holds intense adversities, including displacement, financial hardship, and ongoing family mistreatment. However, these hardships no longer define how my life should end. They define how I persevere. As a senior graduating from high school, I am standing in a place I once couldn't even imagine. Without the bravery of continuing when all hope seemed lost, I would have never experienced the beauty and blessings of being alive today. Suicide is a real and devastating issue for teenagers, but it can be beaten through self-love, growth, and the courage to keep looking through the window until the view finally clears.

Attending Georgia State University (GSU) is the catalyst that will transform my personal resilience into a professional career dedicated to systemic change. My decision to join the J. Mack Robinson College of Business is rooted in its unique history as an institution born from commerce and its deep integration with Atlanta’s growth. This environment provides the perfect intersection of people and profit, facilitating my goal to become a Human Resource Manager who champions equity. My interest in business is not merely academic; it is a legacy passed down through countless hours discussing the corporate world with my father, whose own education inspired my pursuit of this field. Higher education at Georgia State University facilitates my future by offering the stability and specialized resources I once lacked. After navigating housing instability and social isolation, I see Georgia State University’s unwavering support as the foundation for my professional evolution. I plan to fully utilize Robinson’s Career Advancement Center and its robust "recruitment pipeline" to bridge the gap between academic theory and real-world application. By joining the student chapter of the Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM)—one of the largest in the nation—I will gain the leadership training and mentorship necessary to navigate complex corporate environments. This involvement will allow me to transition from a student into a professional advocate who understands the mechanics of organizational culture. My plan for creating a positive impact begins with using these interpersonal and business skills to dismantle the harmful stereotypes that plague my community in Covington, GA. While Covington is often celebrated as the “Hollywood of the South,” it remains an enclosed bubble where minority voices are frequently marginalized. In the workplace, I intend to implement transparent "open-door" communication frameworks that allow employees to engage with leadership without fear of discrimination. By acting as a mediator who understands the nuances of systemic bias, I will ensure that minority excellence is celebrated rather than downplayed. Furthermore, I intend to launch a personal initiative to promote economic and social inclusion by collaborating with local leaders to create mentorship programs for minority youth. By fostering professional excellence, I believe I can effectively counter the narratives that suppress black women and other marginalized groups. Ultimately, Georgia State University provides the proper backing to turn my academic dedication into an impactful career. I will graduate not just with a degree, but with a platform to foster economic and social inclusion, ensuring that the workplaces of the future are as diverse and supportive as the community I strive to build.

I personally decided to attend Georgia State University due to the deep-rooted educational connections to my preferred major: business, and the astonishing amounts of opportunities provided by the college. My decision to attend Georgia State is rooted in its unique history. After extensive research, I learned that Georgia State University was originally an institution of commerce, attended mainly during the evening. As the university continued to grow as its own entity, the college soon became known for Business Administration in 1955. Considering Georgia State College of Business Administration at the time, the growth documented alongside Atlanta’s own growth, gives me confidence that there is no better place to study the intersection of people and profit. My interest in business is not just academic; it is personal. Business has always been a passion for me. I'd spend countless hours talking to my father about his ties to the business world from his own education, and purposely sought out business related classes in high school just to satisfy my endless interest in the subject. Georgia State University also provides business majors with multitudinous opportunities, including a recruitment pipeline, academic specializations, and even mentorship, showing an overall dedication to their students that other colleges do not reciprocate. At the J. Mack Robinson College of Business, I plan to join the student chapter of the Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM), which is one of the largest in the nation, to further develop my leadership skills. In conclusion, I believe attending Georgia State University was the best decision I could have made for myself. In my future, I intend to fully utilize Robinson's Career Advancement Center and its "recruitment pipeline" to prepare for a career in HR Management. I am confident Georgia State University is the place to receive this education for my chosen path. Attending Georgia State University is essential for me to prove my resilient past will manifest into my future as a Human Resource Manager. After navigating housing instability and social isolation, Georgia State University's unwavering support offers the stability I have been deprived of. By joining the Robinson College of Business, I will gain access to a vital recruitment pipeline and mentorship through organizations like SHRM. This education allows me to evolve from a "new coming panther" into a professional leader dedicated to building supportive workplaces. For me, Georgia State is the proper backing required to turn my academic dedication into a stable, impactful career.

Having moved consistently throughout my life, from Hawaii to New York, and Alabama, I have never found a closer-knit community than Covington, GA. Yet, behind its "Hollywood of the South" charm, this place is stuck in a bubble plagued by harmful stereotypes that unfairly target minorities. As a Black woman, I am committed to dismantling these biases and fostering true inclusion through business advocacy. By empowering minority voices, I plan to bridge the gap between Covington’s tourist-driven image and the need for modern, equitable social progress. While attending a diverse high school, I saw firsthand how stereotypes (specifically that Black women are "loud," "obnoxious," or "ratchet") are systematically used to undermine Black excellence. I realized these unfair treatments weren't just relics of the past, they are ingrained in the community's daily culture. Instead of accepting this, I chose to use my voice and my passion for business to advocate for change. Currently, I am actively challenging these stereotypes within my school environment. I use my leadership roles to ensure diverse perspectives are heard and to foster a more supportive atmosphere for minority students. I have learned to turn difficult conversations into opportunities for learning and growth. After college, I plan to elevate this advocacy by starting a personal initiative to promote economic and social inclusion in communities like Covington. My goal is to collaborate with local business leaders to create mentorship programs and internship opportunities that empower minority youth. By fostering economic independence and professional excellence, I believe I can effectively counter the harmful stereotypes that affect my community, while continuing on my personal journey to work in human resources. I also want to expand from my personal endeavors into my professional career, allowing a place for employees to contact and engage with higher-ups about a certain issue they are facing without worry of discrimination or fear of being unheard. Utilizing my interpersonal expertise, I strive to extend these skills not only into my workplace but personal endeavors. Specifically, in my future HR role, I aim to bridge the gap between entry-level staff and leadership by implementing transparent communication. These initiatives will ensure that every individual, regardless of their background, feels safe to voice concerns. By acting as a mediator who understands the nuances of systemic bias, I will transform corporate culture from the inside out, making the workplace an inclusive community, just like the one I am building in Covington. Ultimately, I want to bridge the divide within my community, transforming it into a place that welcomes tourists and is genuinely equitable and inclusive for all residents. I am dedicated to pushing back against discrimination and supporting my community's growth, ensuring that diversity is celebrated rather than prejudiced.

Having moved consistently throughout my life, from Hawaii to New York, and Alabama, I have never found a closer-knit community than Covington, GA. Yet, behind its "Hollywood of the South" charm, this place is stuck in a bubble plagued by harmful stereotypes that unfairly target minorities. As a Black woman, I am committed to dismantling these biases and fostering true inclusion through business advocacy. By empowering minority voices, I plan to bridge the gap between Covington’s tourist-driven image and the need for modern, equitable social progress. While attending a diverse high school, I saw firsthand how stereotypes (specifically that Black women are "loud," "obnoxious," or "ratchet") are systematically used to undermine Black excellence. I realized these unfair treatments weren't just relics of the past, they are ingrained in the community's daily culture. Instead of accepting this, I chose to use my voice and my passion for business to advocate for change. Currently, I am actively challenging these stereotypes within my school environment. I use my leadership roles to ensure diverse perspectives are heard and to foster a more supportive atmosphere for minority students. I have learned to turn difficult conversations into opportunities for learning and growth. After college, I plan to elevate this advocacy by starting a personal initiative to promote economic and social inclusion in communities like Covington. My goal is to collaborate with local business leaders to create mentorship programs and internship opportunities that empower minority youth. By fostering economic independence and professional excellence, I believe I can effectively counter the harmful stereotypes that affect my community, while continuing on my personal journey to work in human resources. I also want to expand from my personal endeavors into my professional career, allowing a place for employees to contact and engage with higher-ups about a certain issue they are facing without worry of discrimination or fear of being unheard. Utilizing my interpersonal expertise, I strive to extend these skills not only into my workplace but personal endeavors. Specifically, in my future HR role, I aim to bridge the gap between entry-level staff and leadership by implementing transparent communication. These initiatives will ensure that every individual, regardless of their background, feels safe to voice concerns. By acting as a mediator who understands the nuances of systemic bias, I will transform corporate culture from the inside out, making the workplace an inclusive community, just like the one I am building in Covington. Ultimately, I want to bridge the divide within my community, transforming it into a place that welcomes tourists and is genuinely equitable and inclusive for all residents. I am dedicated to pushing back against discrimination and supporting my community's growth, ensuring that diversity is celebrated rather than prejudiced.

Having moved consistently throughout my life, from Hawaii to New York, and Alabama, I have never found a closer-knit community than Covington, GA. Yet, behind its "Hollywood of the South" charm, this place is stuck in a bubble plagued by harmful stereotypes that unfairly target minorities. As a Black woman, I am committed to dismantling these biases and fostering true inclusion through business advocacy. By empowering minority voices, I plan to bridge the gap between Covington’s tourist-driven image and the need for modern, equitable social progress. While attending a diverse high school, I saw firsthand how stereotypes (specifically that Black women are "loud," "obnoxious," or "ratchet") are systematically used to undermine Black excellence. I realized these unfair treatments weren't just relics of the past, they are ingrained in the community's daily culture. Instead of accepting this, I chose to use my voice and my passion for business to advocate for change. Currently, I am actively challenging these stereotypes within my school environment. I use my leadership roles to ensure diverse perspectives are heard and to foster a more supportive atmosphere for minority students. I have learned to turn difficult conversations into opportunities for learning and growth. After college, I plan to elevate this advocacy by starting a personal initiative to promote economic and social inclusion in communities like Covington. My goal is to collaborate with local business leaders to create mentorship programs and internship opportunities that empower minority youth. By fostering economic independence and professional excellence, I believe I can effectively counter the harmful stereotypes that affect my community, while continuing on my personal journey to work in human resources. I also want to expand from my personal endeavors into my professional career, allowing a place for employees to contact and engage with higher-ups about a certain issue they are facing without worry of discrimination or fear of being unheard. Utilizing my interpersonal expertise, I strive to extend these skills not only into my workplace but personal endeavors. Specifically, in my future HR role, I aim to bridge the gap between entry-level staff and leadership by implementing transparent communication. These initiatives will ensure that every individual, regardless of their background, feels safe to voice concerns. By acting as a mediator who understands the nuances of systemic bias, I will transform corporate culture from the inside out, making the workplace an inclusive community, just like the one I am building in Covington. Ultimately, I want to bridge the divide within my community, transforming it into a place that welcomes tourists and is genuinely equitable and inclusive for all residents. I am dedicated to pushing back against discrimination and supporting my community's growth, ensuring that diversity is celebrated rather than prejudiced.