My first year of high school was the worst of my life. I had only been in high school for two months. Every day I had a strict routine: wake up, brush my teeth, get dressed, and Facetime my granny as I walked to the bus stop. On this particular Thursday, she never answered. I knew that my day would disappoint me because I did not talk to my best friend like I would normally. I brushed it off and continued about my day. I arrived at school, and I had not heard from her. First period went without the notification that I was searching for. I was in AP Human Geography, and I was called out of class at 10 am. I did not think anything of it, but that call changed the trajectory of my life. My granny, my best friend, passed away. Grief is a strange feeling. It crept in quietly, almost unnoticed at first, like a shadow lurking in the corner. Her absence was an ever-present reminder of the void left behind. Each assignment felt harder, and each class felt 10x more daunting. How could I pour my heart into school when it felt so shattered? I was navigating a new reality. The everyday routine I started school with was completely broken, missing the one key factor to make my day instantly great. My attendance was slipping, and the cheerleading practices that once brought me joy began to feel like an obligation.. My team members were a blur, their laughter echoing in a space I felt disconnected from. The gym felt like home, but I was not actively a part of it. Of course, being around them put a smile on my face, but how long did the smile last? Freshman year went on, and I found peace in knowing that my granny always wanted me to succeed in anything that I put myself into. Whether it was cheer, academics, or any of my other passions, she wanted me to put my best foot forward in everything I did. Every milestone I reached reminded me that my biggest supporter would not be there to cheer me on, so I channeled all of my pain and heartbreak into bettering myself. I ended freshman year with a 4.1 GPA, which could be accredited to the developed work ethic that was attributed to making sure I would make my best friend proud. My senior year, I have transformed my pain and trauma into fuel to be a better me. Every tear that was shed filled a river of new beginnings. The once empty, emotionless 14-year-old has turned into a confident and driven 17-year-old. My cheer gym, once a place that made me feel distant, became my sanctuary again. My teammates became friends who provided support in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I learned the value of vulnerability, allowing others to see me not only as the girl who achieved big academic accomplishments but also as someone who is healing. Entering college represents a new chapter, one with even greater opportunities for learning and self discovery. College will be a chance to continue exploring my mental space, redefine how I approach challenges, and ensure that I prioritize my mental health as much as my achievements. Looking back, the journey through loss while pushing for success was not just about academic achievements or leadership roles; it was about finding strength in vulnerability.

Growing up in Atlanta, Georgia, my academic journey has been like training for a marathon, extremely demanding but rewarding. Whether I was sweating on the cheer mat as captain, finding my rhythm in dance, or harmonizing as an alto section leader in chorus, every opportunity felt like a piece of the puzzle shaping me into the young woman I am today. But just like any athlete knows, having access to the right resources and right mentors makes a huge difference. Being immersed into the Atlanta Public School System has been very beneficial to my learning, academically and socially. Dual enrollment at Georgia State has allowed me to experience the challenge of college coursework while still in high school, pushing me to develop strong study habits and time management skills. AP classes added another layer of challenges. But it wasn’t just about grades, textbooks, and tests. The fine arts programs I participated in from elementary school to high school gave me a space to explore creativity, build confidence within myself, and strengthen my leadership skills. From being lead in school musicals, to choreographing a dance routine, and guiding my section of altos to learn how to read music and create harmonies, I learned how to inspire and collaborate with others. But, not everyone in Georgia has had the same opportunities. As a cheer coach at my gym, I’ve seen how financial barriers can limit participation and access to opportunities. Some talented athletes can’t afford camps or competition fees, which makes it harder for them to pursue their passions and dreams. This also goes for students who want to take AP classes or dual enrollment courses but lack access to information, resources, or money to pay for the expensive tests. Inequalities like these can hold back students who deserve just as much of a chance to pursue their long term goals. The state of Georgia needs to address these inequalities. One solution is increasing funding for fine arts programs and extracurricular activities, especially in underfunded schools. Many music, art, and theater programs have been defunded, which isn’t right. Creative expression should not be a luxury but a fundamental part of every child’s education. Also, grants or scholarships for low income students to participate in activities like cheerleading, dance, and music would open doors for those whose talents might go unnoticed. Additionally, the state should work on increasing awareness of dual enrollment opportunities. Many students, especially those from underserved communities, are unaware of how accessible these programs can be. Many schools also only advertise the program that benefits their statistics and numbers the most. Schools could host annual workshops where representatives from local colleges explain the process, benefits, and available resources for dual enrollment..The state also needs to make sure that funding for AP courses is distributed equally. More schools should receive resources to offer these classes, and financial assistance should be available for students who cannot afford the extremely pricey exam fees. No student should be denied the chance to earn college credit simply because they can’t afford it. Creating these changes would require partnerships between school districts, state legislators, and community organizations. But if Georgia is serious about giving every student a fair shot at success, it’s worth the effort. For me, these opportunities have paved the way to be able to get into my dream schools and shaped my future goals of combining creativity, leadership, and service. This should be the story for everyone in the state.