Growing up, I can’t remember a time when my parents weren’t fighting. South Carolina was always dark and stormy to me. I felt safer under our porch and in my closet, where I’d press my face to the floor until my cheeks were red. All I heard was screaming, and I would curl into a ball, my breaths coming in short huffs. I was left drowning as the walls pressed in on me and I rocked on my heels. I pushed myself in my classes and absorbed myself in books. I didn’t let myself rest and would dig my fingernails into my sides when I got something wrong, leaving deep indents. I started to feel like a stranger in my skin at home when I realized that I was queer. I left all my secrets in that closet, but they still tried to bubble out. I was growing so sick of hiding. My parents grew up in conservative households and are still unable to accept those parts of me. My mother tears me away from my black identity, and my siblings whisper slurs as they pass my room. Kent School became my escape. Kent is where I’m the most me I’ve been in a long time; I’m an African-American, queer person, but I’m also a capable student, athlete, and someone who loves to learn and engage with new ideas. I had discovered the positive aspects of my community by engaging in clubs and affinity groups, but I also learned to look past my own experiences to those of others. At boarding school, we’re trapped in a predominantly white bubble, where microaggressions and ignorance, both willful and not, have been parts of my life since my freshman year. I felt like I had to prove my worth every time I walked into a classroom. I worked hard, but now I did it to prove that I was worthy of respect, a mindset that started weighing on me like when I lived at home. Activism became my outlet for the frustration I had built up. I currently lead our gay-straight alliance, called Spectrum, which I’ve been a part of since my freshman year. As a head, I organize our annual pride week project. The project combines both a celebratory aspect and an educational aspect. During my sophomore year, I founded the Community Equity Council to tackle issues of diversity and inclusion on campus. For Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I organized a workshop on colorism in art and media. The workshop started with an educational presentation with visual examples, and ended with participants making murals centering on the theme of “empowerment.” In the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement, the Kent administration remained silent until students started advocating for a statement. In the face of silence, I decided to start a social media campaign to raise money for the Know Your Rights campaign and nationwide bail funds. I enlisted a friend to create a graphic and encouraged participants to donate, repost, and tag friends on Instagram to continue the chain. The social media campaign raised $5,000, and I reached out to alums and the Kent administration to match our donations. Eventually, $10,000 was raised for the campaigns. Aside from my work in these clubs, I also head a queer affinity group and mixed-race affinity group to create a safe space on campus. I’ve always felt passionate about enacting change, but I’ve also always been interested in building things. I loved Legos and Lincoln Logs, and would beg my mom for cardboard boxes to turn into painted houses. I love the challenge of researching ways to solve a problem. The interdisciplinary nature of mechanical engineering is what really drew me to the field. Mechanical engineering is all about solving problems, but in order to them, one must understand the situation, significance, and overall nature of that problem. For instance, I hope to design environmentally sustainable solutions. However, in order to do so, I have to understand what a specific environment looks like. Engineering and environmental studies overlap heavily as one considers the environmental impact of varying technology. Furthermore, I have to understand what type sustainable energy is the most affordable and the most helpful to the surrounding culture. I would have to explore the culture, people, architecture and economics of the surrounding area. The overlap between human culture, or anthropology, and engineering is something that particularly excites me because it combines my passion for engineering with my passion for advocacy work. I believe that engineering is about benefiting the global community above all else, but first one has to understand the global community and find the problems that need to be solved. One must also understand that the global community can’t be surmised into one type of person. The same solution or piece of technology that could benefit a wealthy suburban community may hurt a low-income urban community. I want to study global cultures and American subcultures that often go unnoticed, and make sure minority and low-income populations are getting the solutions they need. When one studies engineering without studying anthropology or cultures, not everyone is receiving the solutions they need, and I intend to bring awareness to this. I’m still learning how to listen and be myself, but I’m going to keep fighting to make a constructive mark on the world.

Growing up, I can’t remember a time when my parents weren’t fighting. South Carolina was always dark and stormy to me. I felt safer under our porch and in my closet, where I’d press my face to the floor until my cheeks were red. All I heard was screaming, and I would curl into a ball, my breaths coming in short huffs. I was left drowning as the walls pressed in on me and I rocked on my heels. I pushed myself in my classes and absorbed myself in books. I didn’t let myself rest and would dig my fingernails into my sides when I got something wrong, leaving deep indents. I started to feel like a stranger in my skin at home when I realized that I was queer. I left all my secrets in that closet, but they still tried to bubble out. I was growing so sick of hiding. My parents grew up in conservative households and are still unable to accept those parts of me. My mother tears me away from my black identity, and my siblings whisper slurs as they pass my room. Kent School became my escape. Kent is where I’m the most me I’ve been in a long time; I’m an African-American, queer person, but I’m also a capable student, athlete, and someone who loves to learn and engage with new ideas. I had discovered the positive aspects of my community by engaging in clubs and affinity groups, but I also learned to look past my own experiences to those of others. At boarding school, we’re trapped in a predominantly white bubble, where microaggressions and ignorance, both willful and not, have been parts of my life since my freshman year. I felt like I had to prove my worth every time I walked into a classroom. I worked hard, but now I did it to prove that I was worthy of respect, a mindset that started weighing on me like when I lived at home. Activism became my outlet for the frustration I had built up. I currently lead our gay-straight alliance, called Spectrum, which I’ve been a part of since my freshman year. As a head, I organize our annual pride week project. The project combines both a celebratory aspect and an educational aspect. During my sophomore year, I founded the Community Equity Council to tackle issues of diversity and inclusion on campus. For Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I organized a workshop on colorism in art and media. The workshop started with an educational presentation with visual examples, and ended with participants making murals centering on the theme of “empowerment.” In the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement, the Kent administration remained silent until students started advocating for a statement. In the face of silence, I decided to start a social media campaign to raise money for the Know Your Rights campaign and nationwide bail funds. I enlisted a friend to create a graphic and encouraged participants to donate, repost, and tag friends on Instagram to continue the chain. The social media campaign raised $5,000, and I reached out to alums and the Kent administration to match our donations. Eventually, $10,000 was raised for the campaigns. Aside from my work in these clubs, I also head a queer affinity group and mixed-race affinity group to create a safe space on campus. I’ve always felt passionate about enacting change, but I’ve also always been interested in building things. I loved Legos and Lincoln Logs, and would beg my mom for cardboard boxes to turn into painted houses. I love the challenge of researching ways to solve a problem. The interdisciplinary nature of mechanical engineering is what really drew me to the field. Mechanical engineering is all about solving problems, but in order to them, one must understand the situation, significance, and overall nature of that problem. For instance, I hope to design environmentally sustainable solutions. However, in order to do so, I have to understand what a specific environment looks like. Engineering and environmental studies overlap heavily as one considers the environmental impact of varying technology. Furthermore, I have to understand what type sustainable energy is the most affordable and the most helpful to the surrounding culture. I would have to explore the culture, people, architecture and economics of the surrounding area. The overlap between human culture, or anthropology, and engineering is something that particularly excites me because it combines my passion for engineering with my passion for advocacy work. I believe that engineering is about benefiting the global community above all else, but first one has to understand the global community and find the problems that need to be solved. One must also understand that the global community can’t be surmised into one type of person. The same solution or piece of technology that could benefit a wealthy suburban community may hurt a low-income urban community. I want to study global cultures and American subcultures that often go unnoticed, and make sure minority and low-income populations are getting the solutions they need. When one studies engineering without studying anthropology or cultures, not everyone is receiving the solutions they need, and I intend to bring awareness to this. I’m still learning how to listen and be myself, but I’m going to keep fighting to make a constructive mark on the world.

Growing up, I can’t remember a time when my parents weren’t fighting. South Carolina was always dark and stormy to me. I felt safer under our porch and in my closet, where I’d press my face to the floor until my cheeks were red. All I heard was screaming, and I would curl into a ball, my breaths coming in short huffs. I was left drowning as the walls pressed in on me and I rocked on my heels. I pushed myself in my classes and absorbed myself in books. I didn’t let myself rest and would dig my fingernails into my sides when I got something wrong, leaving deep indents. I started to feel like a stranger in my skin at home when I realized that I was queer. I left all my secrets in that closet, but they still tried to bubble out. I was growing so sick of hiding. My parents grew up in conservative households and are still unable to accept those parts of me. My mother tears me away from my black identity, and my siblings whisper slurs as they pass my room. Kent School became my escape. Kent is where I’m the most me I’ve been in a long time; I’m an African-American, queer person, but I’m also a capable student, athlete, and someone who loves to learn and engage with new ideas. I had discovered the positive aspects of my community by engaging in clubs and affinity groups, but I also learned to look past my own experiences to those of others. At boarding school, we’re trapped in a predominantly white bubble, where microaggressions and ignorance, both willful and not, have been parts of my life since my freshman year. I felt like I had to prove my worth every time I walked into a classroom. I worked hard, but now I did it to prove that I was worthy of respect, a mindset that started weighing on me like when I lived at home. Activism became my outlet for the frustration I had built up. I currently lead our gay-straight alliance, called Spectrum, which I’ve been a part of since my freshman year. As a head, I organize our annual pride week project. The project combines both a celebratory aspect and an educational aspect. During my sophomore year, I founded the Community Equity Council to tackle issues of diversity and inclusion on campus. For Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I organized a workshop on colorism in art and media. The workshop started with an educational presentation with visual examples, and ended with participants making murals centering on the theme of “empowerment.” In the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement, the Kent administration remained silent until students started advocating for a statement. In the face of silence, I decided to start a social media campaign to raise money for the Know Your Rights campaign and nationwide bail funds. I enlisted a friend to create a graphic and encouraged participants to donate, repost, and tag friends on Instagram to continue the chain. The social media campaign raised $5,000, and I reached out to alums and the Kent administration to match our donations. Eventually, $10,000 was raised for the campaigns. Aside from my work in these clubs, I also head a queer affinity group and mixed-race affinity group to create a safe space on campus. I’ve always felt passionate about enacting change, but I’ve also always been interested in building things. I loved Legos and Lincoln Logs, and would beg my mom for cardboard boxes to turn into painted houses. I love the challenge of researching ways to solve a problem. The interdisciplinary nature of mechanical engineering is what really drew me to the field. Mechanical engineering is all about solving problems, but in order to them, one must understand the situation, significance, and overall nature of that problem. For instance, I hope to design environmentally sustainable solutions. However, in order to do so, I have to understand what a specific environment looks like. Engineering and environmental studies overlap heavily as one considers the environmental impact of varying technology. Furthermore, I have to understand what type sustainable energy is the most affordable and the most helpful to the surrounding culture. I would have to explore the culture, people, architecture and economics of the surrounding area. The overlap between human culture, or anthropology, and engineering is something that particularly excites me because it combines my passion for engineering with my passion for advocacy work. I believe that engineering is about benefiting the global community above all else, but first one has to understand the global community and find the problems that need to be solved. One must also understand that the global community can’t be surmised into one type of person. The same solution or piece of technology that could benefit a wealthy suburban community may hurt a low-income urban community. I want to study global cultures and American subcultures that often go unnoticed, and make sure minority and low-income populations are getting the solutions they need. When one studies engineering without studying anthropology or cultures, not everyone is receiving the solutions they need, and I intend to bring awareness to this. I intend to keep being myself, and to continue shouting to make a constructive mark on the world.

Growing up, I can’t remember a time when my parents weren’t fighting. South Carolina was always dark and stormy to me. I felt safer under our porch and in my closet, where I’d press my face to the floor until my cheeks were red. All I heard was screaming, and I would curl into a ball, my breaths coming in short huffs. I was left drowning as the walls pressed in on me and I rocked on my heels. I pushed myself in my classes and absorbed myself in books. I didn’t let myself rest and would dig my fingernails into my sides when I got something wrong, leaving deep indents. I started to feel like a stranger in my skin at home when I realized that I was queer. I left all my secrets in that closet, but they still tried to bubble out. I was growing so sick of hiding. My parents grew up in conservative households and are still unable to accept those parts of me. My mother tears me away from my black identity, and my siblings whisper slurs as they pass my room. Kent School became my escape. Kent is where I’m the most me I’ve been in a long time; I’m an African-American, queer person, but I’m also a capable student, athlete, and someone who loves to learn and engage with new ideas. I had discovered the positive aspects of my community by engaging in clubs and affinity groups, but I also learned to look past my own experiences to those of others. At boarding school, we’re trapped in a predominantly white bubble, where microaggressions and ignorance, both willful and not, have been parts of my life since my freshman year. I felt like I had to prove my worth every time I walked into a classroom. I worked hard, but now I did it to prove that I was worthy of respect, a mindset that started weighing on me like when I lived at home. Activism became my outlet for the frustration I had built up. I currently lead our gay-straight alliance, called Spectrum, which I’ve been a part of since my freshman year. As a head, I organize our annual pride week project. The project combines both a celebratory aspect and an educational aspect. During my sophomore year, I founded the Community Equity Council to tackle issues of diversity and inclusion on campus. For Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I organized a workshop on colorism in art and media. The workshop started with an educational presentation with visual examples, and ended with participants making murals centering on the theme of “empowerment.” In the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement, the Kent administration remained silent until students started advocating for a statement. In the face of silence, I decided to start a social media campaign to raise money for the Know Your Rights campaign and nationwide bail funds. I enlisted a friend to create a graphic and encouraged participants to donate, repost, and tag friends on Instagram to continue the chain. The social media campaign raised $5,000, and I reached out to alums and the Kent administration to match our donations. Eventually, $10,000 was raised for the campaigns. Aside from my work in these clubs, I also head a queer affinity group and mixed-race affinity group to create a safe space on campus. I’ve always felt passionate about enacting change, but I’ve also always been interested in building things. I loved Legos and Lincoln Logs, and would beg my mom for cardboard boxes to turn into painted houses. I love the challenge of researching ways to solve a problem. The interdisciplinary nature of mechanical engineering is what really drew me to the field. Mechanical engineering is all about solving problems, but in order to them, one must understand the situation, significance, and overall nature of that problem. For instance, I hope to design environmentally sustainable solutions. However, in order to do so, I have to understand what a specific environment looks like. Engineering and environmental studies overlap heavily as one considers the environmental impact of varying technology. Furthermore, I have to understand what type sustainable energy is the most affordable and the most helpful to the surrounding culture. I would have to explore the culture, people, architecture and economics of the surrounding area. The overlap between human culture, or anthropology, and engineering is something that particularly excites me because it combines my passion for engineering with my passion for advocacy work. I believe that engineering is about benefiting the global community above all else, but first one has to understand the global community and find the problems that need to be solved. One must also understand that the global community can’t be surmised into one type of person. The same solution or piece of technology that could benefit a wealthy suburban community may hurt a low-income urban community. I want to study global cultures and American subcultures that often go unnoticed, and make sure minority and low-income populations are getting the solutions they need. When one studies engineering without studying anthropology or cultures, not everyone is receiving the solutions they need, and I intend to bring awareness to this. I’m still learning how to listen and be myself, but I’m going to keep fighting to make a constructive mark on the world.