There are many ways lessons are taught in our world through school, reading, and most often through life. As we grow, we learn from past situations, but financial lessons are something many people only gain with age. For me, that lesson came suddenly and harshly. At the start of December, I found myself trapped in a predatory auto loan after buying a car I needed for work. My family’s financial situation has always been tight. Since I started working at sixteen, I’ve provided most of my own necessities. My father is disabled and relies on social security, and although my mother works full-time, their combined income barely covers the basics. When they fall short, they turn to me. I wanted a better job so I could help them while still saving for college and my future. I thought I was responsible, but my lack of experience made me vulnerable. I saved $3,000. $2,000 for a down payment and $1,000 for myself. Auctions were too expensive, and I felt like waiting wasn’t an option. I found a car listed for $13,000 that seemed perfect. But at the dealership, everything moved fast. Because my parents didn’t have strong credit, the bank demanded more money. I told them I only had $2,000. When I hesitated, the dealer said he would “make the rest disappear.” I didn’t ask questions. I was excited, desperate, and trusting. And I signed the contract. At home, the contract shocked me. My loan amount was $18,000 with a 24% interest rate. By the end of the term, I would have paid over $45,000 for a car worth $8,000. I felt sick and embarrassed, but I refused to let the mistake define me. I got a second job, created a strict budget, and began paying double each month so I can finish the loan in two years instead of six. Once I build credit, I plan to refinance. This experience taught me to slow down, read everything, and never be afraid to ask questions. It showed me how crucial financial literacy is, especially for young people and families like mine, because were easy to be preyed on. I also learned that financial mistakes don’t make you irresponsible they make you human. What matters is how you respond. Moving forward, I plan to use what I’ve learned to protect myself and make smarter decisions. I want to build strong credit, save intentionally, and avoid rushing into financial commitments out of fear or pressure. This experience also made me want to educate others, especially people my age, so they don’t fall into the same traps. Financial literacy isn’t just about money it’s about freedom, stability, and confidence. And now that I’ve learned this lesson the hard way, I’m motivated to use it to build a better future for myself and the family I go on to build.

Growing up, my family didn’t have much money, and my father wasn’t around during the early years of my life. All I really knew was my mother, who was constantly working to support six kids on her own. Because of that, I saw the world differently from a young age. I watched the people around me have things I could only dream about. It wasn’t luxury items, it was stability, extra help, and not being embarrassed about where you live. Those were things I didn’t have, and as a child, that difference felt huge. I wasn’t jealous, but I was aware. I realized early on that other people had advantages I didn’t, and that if I wanted a better future, I couldn’t wait for someone else to create it for me. I had to build my own stability. That understanding shaped my motivation to push through school, even though school has never been something I’m naturally passionate about. It’s hard, it’s long, and it takes a lot of dedication and commitment. But those are things I’m willing to give. I can be uncomfortable for a few years if it means a lifetime of stability, success, and happiness. I learned to be independent because I didn’t have another choice. I had to push myself, stay focused, and figure things out on my own. Over time, that survival mindset turned into determination. I want to go to college not just to earn a degree, but to create a life where I don’t have to struggle the way I did growing up. I want to be able to take care of myself, build a stable future, and never feel the kind of uncertainty I felt as a kid. My childhood experiences are the reason I’m pursuing higher education. I want to grow older and be thriving, with a career I love and a life I’m proud of. Sitting as a kid and watching others have basic needs my family couldn’t meet put a fire in me. I don’t want to continue that cycle as an adult. I know that no one else can make me successful, I have to do that for myself. And I refuse to let myself down. Education isn’t the only way to succeed, but for the level of comfort and stability I want in life, it’s the path I need. I’m going to college for Public Health while completing the required classes to become a Psychiatrist. Yes, it’s a high‑earning career, but it’s also a way for me to give back a basic necessity that many people don’t have access to. I know what it feels like to go without, and I want to be someone who helps change that for others.

As a black woman I've faced obstacles everywhere I go, either that being because of my skin color or because of my gender. But, the biggest obstacle I've faced was the racism I received in 2022 during my first year of high school. For my freshman year I went to a different high school due to the fact I faced a lot of bullying in middle school. I attended Fallston High School where I was shunned, belittled, and treated like an outsider. No one ever wanted to be my partner if the teacher was to make partner work my partner would completely just ignore me. No matter how much I tried to speak to them, they would treat me as if I had the plague and just looking my way would mean they would catch it too. In halls people would walk right into me but then swear they just couldn't see me, but no one else ever got knocked down only the people who were black. Even the teachers were like the students, I wouldn't ever get called on or I would get ridiculed ridiculously for no reason, despite me facing actual bullies who were bullying simply because I was black. I had never experienced anything like that before and it impacted me as a person. I grew self conscious, I hated to speak, and mostly I felt I wasn't seen. I reported the abuse to admin, my parents did. But, somehow I was always the one in trouble, I was always the one making something out of nothing. I came to this school because it was better than the schools my area had to offer, but instead I experienced something I hadn't ever experienced before. That is a feeling no child should have to understand, going to Fallston caused irreparable trauma that I still haven't gotten over. Not even my bullying in middle school compared to how I was treated at Fallston High School. That is why I want to be educated, that is why I want to further myself because I know my worth. Those people didn't and they were intimidated that I was comfortable being myself. This was a battle I didn't win, eventually I ending switching to my homeschool and enjoyed school way more than I did at Fallston despite me not having any friends, and being lonely just like I was at Fallston. The only difference was that I was surrounded by people like me, I was surrounded by all different races. I want to use my education to give back to children that ended up in situations like me, where there is lack of inclusion and diversity. By going to school to further my education I'm already showing children of color they can do just the same if not even more than their peers. Because the last thing we need to do is show children to be ashamed of who they are. Black is beautiful, and I wish someone told me that.