The first time my sister attempted to take her life, I rounded the corner of the second floor hallway in our childhood home to find her standing atop the banister with unshed tears and a striking look of determination in her eyes. The world was so quiet, proceeding in slow motion as I sprinted to grab her and pull her to safety. When my arms were around her and she was safe from danger, she kicked and screamed and sobbed in protest. But I didn't care. My screams were shrill over her sobs. "I LOVE YOU. I AM NOT LETTING YOU GO." I repeated the sentences until they blurred together like ink on teary pages, holding her until her cries subsided. Then, wordlessly, she trudged blearily to her bed, and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. That night, I sat outside her room for hours. All I could do was cry silently and wonder how we got here. My sister was diagnosed with depression and anxiety some months later. Every day since then, I have seen her struggle with taking care of herself. I have seen her fight to paste a smile on her face and push past the the negativity that clouds her thoughts. "I am not good enough." "They would be better off without me." "I am such a failure and a disappointment to them." Her echo chamber muffles the love and encouragement we try to surround her with. The biggest thing I've learned is that depression won't always manifest itself simply as sadness. Sometimes it appears as a lack of motivation. Or self esteem. Or care. Sometimes it means you shower in the dark. Sometimes it means you don't shower at all, for five days straight. Sometimes it means you wear the same hoodie for a week. Not because it's your favorite, or has any particular value, but because choosing something else to wear was too difficult that week. Not eating enough or overeating. Living in filth or cleaning obsessively in every free moment. Purging everything you've ever owned or buying more than your house can hold. Depression is not cute or trendy, even though media can glamorize it to appear that way. It hurts every single day, because it is always there. There is no off switch or pause button. The pain continues to lurk in every corner, linger after every sentence, tinge every moment of joy. Because I've seen my sister battle depression every day, I've made it my mission to provide awareness to people who don't understand it or need help dealing with it. I can't make the biggest differences now, but I try to donate (or purchase from businesses who donate) to foundations created specifically for that purpose: by providing free/discounted counseling for people who can't afford it, by giving educated information and advice to those who surround and support individuals who suffer from depression, etc. I also make sure that I come with a mindset of intentional awareness in my conversations with others. I do my best to help them understand and provide them with resources that will provide more clarity for them about depression and what to do to support depressed loved ones. In the future, I want to be able to do more. Whether that's volunteering for organizations like the ones I support right now, or even creating my own, I want to push for change in my community in regards to depression awareness and support. My little sister's mental health has moved me to care about mine and everyone else's more consciously, more fully, and more informedly. I can only hope that my actions can inspire others to do the same.

When I think about it, it's probably my mother's fault. Even though she doesn't consider herself one of the musical members of the family, I believe it was her mission to make me into one. She tells me that she would put headphones over her belly when she was pregnant with me, playing all her favorites. When I was a toddler, Mom would push me into rehearsal with my father, grandfather, and uncles, saying, "Go sit with your father, baby. Go listen to them sing". My parents filled me with the music they grew up on. Before my hands were big enough to hold them all, they gave me Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross, Sam Cooke, The Temptations. I danced and sang with people who left this world years before I came into it. But my absolute favorite was Stevie Wonder. His melodies were so unique and intricate. His magic and skill seemed to lie in shattering the limitations that society placed on his disability. Every album was moving and beautiful; each song had a life of its own. Stevie Wonder made me fall head over heels for music. Out of all his songs, though, 'As' stands tall above the rest. It was 'our song'. On sunny summer days, my mother and I would go to McDonalds, order two cokes and two large fries, and drive around playing our song. It wasn't extravagant or expensive, it wasn't a movie moment, and usually, it only lasted for all of fifteen minutes. But it was ours. As a little kid, I loved it because I thought it was a really silly song. Flying dolphins, ridiculous mathematics, and oceans higher than mountains? When I'd listen, my imagination took me to a land full of hilarious impossibilities. But as I got older, I learned that the impossibilities were written to portray the timelessness of love for the people we care for. Each line has always been a reminder that the love my parents and family have for me has no bounds or expiry date and my love for them is just the same.

BIPOC businesses. Though this encompasses several stores, I had to include it because shopping BIPOC businesses is always a priority for me. I find that I enjoy the product more when I know I am helping businesses that, statistically, do not get the same publicity or purchasing rates as those of white owned businesses or huge megastores. Supporting smaller, less publicized businesses is how I give back to my community. As a Black woman, I value supporting other BIPOC individuals. I have a firsthand understanding of some of the experiences and struggles that they endured and overcame to build their businesses. Amazon. The deals and options that are showcased on this website are extremely beneficial when you don't want to spend as much as you would in a store. With a Prime account, free shipping is available; with AmazonSmile, you can shop while donating to a cause of your choice. Redbubble. Various products featuring the artwork of small artists? Win. Stickers, shirts, posters, and other merchandise are available for purchase on this site. I use it to find creative, personalized gifts for family and friends. This site is also a good way to support smaller artists.