Music is a powerful tool for healing and self-expression, and I believe it can be used to make mental health awareness more accessible and affordable. As someone who has witnessed the transformative power of music, I aim to create initiatives that merge my passion for the arts with a commitment to supporting mental health. One way I can contribute is by organizing free or low-cost music therapy workshops on campus and in the community. These sessions would focus on using music to alleviate stress, boost mood, and foster a sense of connection among participants. From guided listening sessions to songwriting activities, these workshops can provide a creative outlet for people to process emotions and find support. Additionally, I could collaborate with student organizations and local mental health professionals to create events that highlight the therapeutic benefits of music. Hosting open mic nights or community jam sessions with themes centered around mental health awareness can help reduce stigma while offering a safe space for self-expression. Through these initiatives, I hope to bring the healing power of music to those who need it most, fostering a culture where mental health is prioritized and supported in a creative, affordable way.

“99 Credits and a Degree of None” is my mom’s favorite made-up song. It’s a tune about her five-college journey, filled with half-finished degrees and student loans she jokes will follow her into the afterlife. My mom’s a true jack-of-all-trades, but I know that deep down, she wants a degree. My dad, who immigrated from Jamaica in high school, never got to finish. He earned his diploma and trade certification later, and together, they’ve sacrificed to build a life for me—hoping I’ll be the first in our family to graduate. Being a first-generation college student is so much more than just a title. I’m carrying the weight of their dreams and my own. My parents gave up parts of their own ambitions so that I could have a shot at mine. They worked hard to give me chances they never had, and as much as they want me to go to college, it’s just as important to me to prove that their sacrifices mean something. I want to walk across that stage not only for myself but for them. My personal dream was set in fourth grade, the moment I took the stage as Little Red in Into the Woods. Under those bright stage lights, I found my place. My mom saw it too, and from then on, she fully invested in me. She enrolled me in a performing arts magnet school, signed me up for vocal lessons, even paid for dance classes. She’d say, “You’ve got to train like an athlete,” and I did, fully committed to the journey. When high school began, I was thrilled to join our performing arts program and auditioned for the fall show. I landed a lead role and was even nominated for Best Female Vocalist in high school musical theater. I thought I was on track, but I wanted to explore other high school activities, try new things. My theater teacher didn’t see it that way. Stepping outside of his expectations for me made me a target, and the personal attacks and bullying that followed made me lose my love for theater. I started to withdraw, and my mom says her “songbird stopped singing.” I went from being outgoing to staying in bed, crying through the days. Eventually, my mom stepped in. She transferred me out of the theater program, and I auditioned for the vocal program instead. I didn’t realize just how much I still had to learn—like reading music and advanced vocal techniques. My new vocal teacher encouraged me to tackle these challenges, and I came out of it stronger. Now, I’m regularly asked to sing at school events and community performances. I’ve even gone to therapy to help work through the tough time I experienced, and it was music that became my therapy in a very real way. Being a first-generation student shapes me in so many ways. I have their story of sacrifice and resilience guiding me, and it’s my drive to use everything they’ve given me to build a future they can be proud of. That’s why my college plans feel like such an honor—and a responsibility. I want to attend North Carolina A&T, major in musical theater, and start my path toward Broadway. After that, I’d love to perform on Disney cruises, combining my passion for theater and my dream of traveling the world. I’ve also realized that music can heal, and it’s a gift I want to give others. I plan to minor in music therapy to understand how to use my passion to help others find healing the way I did. So yes, I’ll be the first in my family to graduate, but I’ll also be carrying with me everything my parents have sacrificed and every dream they’ve had for me. When I walk across that stage, it won’t just be my achievement—it will be theirs, too.

“99 Credits and a Degree of None” is my mom’s favorite made-up song. It’s a catchy tune about her journey through five colleges, with half-finished degrees, and a pile of student loans that she jokes she’ll “pay off in the afterlife.” But I know behind her laughs, there’s a longing to hold a degree in her hands. My dad, an immigrant from Jamaica, didn’t get to finish high school here but later earned a diploma through a trade program. Together, they’ve sacrificed a lot for me, hoping I’ll be the first in our family to walk across that graduation stage. But my reason for going to college is a little different. I’ve known my dream since fourth grade, when I played Little Red in Into the Woods. That moment on stage, under the lights, I felt like I’d found my place. My family saw it too, and my mom started investing in that dream. She enrolled me in a performing arts magnet school, signed me up for vocal lessons, and even covered dance classes. She’d say, “You’ve got to train like an athlete,” and I did, fully committed. By the time I got to high school, I was thrilled to join the performing arts program and auditioned for the fall show. I landed a lead role and was even nominated for Best Female Vocalist in high school musical theater. It felt like everything was falling into place. But high school is high school, and I wanted to try other activities, explore more of myself. My theater teacher, however, didn’t see it that way. He had a vision for me, and stepping out of that vision made me a target. The bullying wasn’t just occasional remarks—it was personal, and I wasn’t the only one. I felt like I’d lost myself. My mom says her “songbird stopped singing.” I’d always been loud and outgoing, but suddenly, I was staying in bed, barely talking, and crying a lot. Eventually, my mom decided enough was enough. She transferred me out of the theater program, and I auditioned for the vocal program instead. It was the best decision we could have made. I didn’t realize just how much I didn’t know—things like reading music and advanced vocal techniques. My new vocal teacher encouraged me to jump into the deep end, and though it was a challenge, it’s made me so much stronger. Now, I’m often asked to sing at events and volunteer performances. I’ve even gone to therapy to help me work through that dark time, and music became my therapy. I realized that, beyond performing, I could use music to help others heal, too. That’s why I’m considering a minor in music therapy when I head to college. My dream school is North Carolina A&T, where I’ll major in musical theater and start my journey toward Broadway. After that, I’d love to perform on Disney cruises and travel the world while doing what I love. My parents’ sacrifices, their hopes, and even my mom’s “99 Credits” song remind me daily why I’m pursuing this path. They gave up their dreams so that I could have mine, and if I can reach the stage, I’ll know it’s all been worth it—for them and for me.

I remember sitting outside the classroom, the door slammed shut in my face during a Code Red. Panic surged through me as my mind raced. I already dreaded coming to this class, but being locked out during a school lockdown was a whole new fear. I wanted to be inside, safe, but instead, I hid in a bathroom, heart pounding, wondering what might happen next. How was I going to survive the next four years? My love for theater began when I was 7 years old. I saw my first show, The Lion King. At 10, I auditioned for my first real theater role. The other kids said, “New kids never get lead roles,” but when the cast list went up, my name was right there in a lead spot. I spent every summer at camp after that. Just before COVID, I landed my dream role as Rafiki. That’s when I knew Broadway was where I belonged. At first, high school was everything I imagined. I joined the cheer team, got a lead in the fall play, and was even nominated for a Cappies award for “Best Female Vocalist.” But then, everything came crashing down. My theater mentor, the person who once encouraged me, turned against me when I joined the cheer team. Choosing to explore new things seemed to betray him. He humiliated me, shouting and belittling me in front of everyone. I was 14, and I didn’t know how to stand up to an adult who was tearing me down. My confidence crumbled, and my love for theater was slipping away. By the end of freshman year, I transferred from theater to vocal for my mental well-being. I wasn’t sure I’d ever return to theater. After soul-searching, I realized that my true passion lay not just in performing but in teaching, in making a change in lives around me. The summer before my junior year was my turning point. I received a scholarship for a pre-college theater conservatory, honestly, I didn’t want to go. When I showed up, the staff didn’t recognize me. I was broken as a performer, and it showed. Danny, one of the instructors, took me aside. He talked to me about the bullying, the self-doubt, and the moment when I’d given up on my own dreams. I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t. I broke down in front of him. I had let go of the person I once believed I could be. Danny wouldn’t let me quit. He pushed me to sing, even through my pain and tears. I confronted the hurt, reached deep inside, and found my voice again. Each note brought me closer to the Madison I used to be, the one who wasn’t afraid to dream. Despite rediscovering my love for performing, my heart still pulls me toward teaching. I mentor the JV team, teach them skills, and build their confidence. They mean so much to me because, like me, they know what it’s like to be overlooked, to feel like they’re not enough. Seeing those girls perform at every varsity event (a first in our school’s history) fills my heart in ways I never expected. I wonder how different my high school journey might have been if I wasn’t bullied. I wouldn’t go back to theater. My vocal training has opened new doors for me, and that tough chapter taught me that my real passion is in helping others find their strength. I’m not the same girl who sat outside that locked door—I’m stronger now. I’ll never let anyone shake my belief in who I am again.

“Wicked” is a powerful musical that tells the untold story of the witches of Oz, focusing on the complex relationship between Elphaba, the misunderstood green-skinned girl, and Glinda, the popular and seemingly perfect one. The themes of adversity, acceptance, and the struggle for self-identity are central to the musical, and they resonate deeply with my own journey. In many ways, I see myself in Elphaba. She is misunderstood, judged by her appearance, and often faces rejection simply because she doesn’t fit into the mold of what society expects. Like Elphaba, I have faced my own challenges and moments of feeling like an outsider. During my 9th-grade year, I was bullied by my theater teacher for joining the cheer team . The situation made me question my worth and passion for performing, but, like Elphaba, I didn’t let someone else’s opinion define who I was. I chose to channel my hurt into a positive direction, finding my voice in the vocal program and becoming even more determined to follow my dreams. Elphaba’s struggle to stay true to herself despite the pressure to conform mirrors my own desire to pursue a career on Broadway, even when others like my dad think it’s unrealistic. Like her, I know that staying true to who I am and believing in my talent and determination will eventually pay off. My love for performing began when I was just in fourth grade, playing Little Red in “Into the Woods,” and has only grown stronger since then. Despite the setbacks, I’ve continued to push forward. In the song “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba sings about breaking free from the limitations others put on her, declaring that she won’t be held down anymore. That song resonates with me because, like Elphaba, I’ve faced obstacles, doubts, and challenges that tried to hold me back. Whether it was dealing with my health issues, navigating the pressures of school and extracurriculars, or finding my place in the arts, I’ve learned to rise above them all. I’ve come to understand that sometimes adversity is the force that pushes us to new heights, helping us discover strengths we never knew we had. My dream is to be on Broadway, to use my voice to tell stories that touch people’s hearts, and to inspire others the way “Wicked” has inspired me. I know the road ahead won’t be easy, but like Elphaba, I’m ready to defy gravity and soar. No matter what others think, I believe in the power of perseverance, and I know that I have the strength and dedication to turn my dreams into reality. And if I can help others along the way, through music therapy or mentoring, then I will truly be living the legacy that “Wicked” has taught me, to embrace who you are, no matter how different or difficult the journey may be.

My love for theater began when I was seven years old when I saw my first show, The Lion King. At ten, I auditioned for my first real theater role. The other kids said, “New kids never get lead roles,” but when the cast list went up, my name was right there in a lead spot. Just before COVID, I landed my dream role as Rafiki. That’s when I knew Broadway was where I belonged. Before middle school, I attended a charter school where I struggled academically. Everything changed when I joined a summer theater program. My performance there led my mom to enroll me in a magnet performing arts school, where I became an honor roll student. The importance of arts in schools is often undervalued, especially when it comes to funding. Research shows that drama courses significantly benefit at-risk youth and students with learning disabilities, enhancing social and communication skills, self-esteem, and confidence in their academic abilities. I can personally attest to this. My confidence and communication skills improved, and focusing on subjects I was passionate about made all the difference. Having to maintain a certain GPA in core classes kept me on track. Getting kicked out of the program was not an option—I couldn’t afford to lose my lifeline. My dream is to perform on Broadway and eventually teach theater. I am a JV peer mentor for the school band. This summer, I volunteered my mornings teaching them, and I currently volunteer after school. Being with them and giving back has been an amazing journey. I now have 13 little sisters. I’ve always wanted to be a big sister, but after losing my own sister, I never had the chance to create the bonds that I now have. These girls have someone close to their age they can talk to about schoolwork, teachers, the coach, makeup, and even their relationships. I’m trying to teach them how to be young ladies who stand up for themselves and know they have the power to do whatever they want in life. I’ve given them my time, and they’ve given me their love. I am proud to say the JV team has performed at every varsity event, which has never happened in the history of my school. Watching them grow and accomplish this has made my heart feel so full. I believe performing arts should be accessible to all, especially in underfunded communities. Free or low-cost programs can provide the support and opportunities that students need to thrive. I’m committed to making these resources available through initiatives like theater in the park, which costs nothing but time. I plan to make an impact in the world and my community by helping with community projects and making arts education accessible to everyone. The arts shaped my path, and I’m determined to ensure others have the same opportunity. Empowering students through accessible arts education can ignite creativity, build confidence, and inspire brighter futures.

I remember sitting outside the classroom, the door closed in my face during a code red. Panic set in and my mind raced. I hated coming to this class every day felt like a battle but sitting there, shut out during a lockdown, was a whole new kind of fear. I would have preferred to be inside, safe, but instead, I hid in the bathroom wondering what was going on. How was I going to survive the next for years? I couldn’t believe I was being bullied by the person I looked up to, the one who should’ve been shaping my future. I was 10 years old when I auditioned for my first theater performance. The other campers said “New kids never get lead roles.” But I remember that moment when the cast list went up, and there it was! My name in one of the leas spots. Every summer after, I landed lead roles. When I got the role Rafiki from The Lion King before covid, I knew without a doubt I wanted be on Broadway. Halfway through middle school COVID shut everything down. I attended a local conservatory to keep training. School reopened in my freshman year, and to my surprise, my conservatory instructor started working at my high school. High school was everything I hoped it would be. I joined the cheer team and got a leading role in the fall theater show. I was nominated for a Kappies award “Best Female Vocalist”for that show. Things were going well but that changed quickly. My theater mentor, who had once supported me, was furious when I joined the cheer team. I didn’t do the next show, choosing to focus on cheer, and from that moment, things changed. I was picked on, yelled at, humiliated in front of my peers. At 14, I wasn’t prepared to stand up to an adult bully. My confidence shattered. My love for theater dimmed. By the end of my freshman year, I switched from theater to vocal for my mental well being. After much soul searching i set my heart on teaching. Making a positive impact on lives was what I wanted to do. It wasn’t until the summer before my junior year that my feelings changed. A theatre conservatory awarded me a summer intensive pre-college scholarship. I didn’t want to go. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. The theatre geek in me was alive again. Although I love to perform, I still want to teach. These experiences good and bad helped me to follow thru with my desires. I am a JV peer mentor. I teach the girls a variety of skills. These girls are very special to me. In a sense they are bullied, often teased about not making varsity and not being good enough. I am proud to say that with my help the JV team has performed at every varsity event which has never happened in the history of my school. Watching them grow and accomplish this has made my heart feel so full. Looking back, I wonder how different high school might have been if my experience had gone another way. Although he is gone, I wouldn’t return to theater. My vocal training has pushed me further than I think the theater program could have. That tough period helped me discover my passion for teaching and mentoring. I wouldn’t allow anyone to shake my confidence in my skills again. I’m not the same person who sat outside that door - I’ve grown, fought through adversity, and come out stronger. This scholarship would help with school fees.

I remember sitting outside the classroom, the door closed in my face during a code red. Panic set in and my mind raced. I hated coming to this class every day felt like a battle but sitting there, shut out during a lockdown, was a whole new kind of fear. I would have preferred to be inside, safe, but instead, I hid in the bathroom wondering what was going on. How was I going to survive the next for years? I couldn’t believe I was being bullied by the person I looked up to, the one who should’ve been shaping my future. I was 10 years old when I auditioned for my first theater performance. The other campers said “New kids never get lead roles.” But I remember that moment when the cast list went up, and there it was! My name in one of the leas spots. Every summer after, I landed lead roles. When I got the role Rafiki from The Lion King before covid, I knew without a doubt I wanted be on Broadway. Halfway through middle school COVID shut everything down. I attended a local conservatory to keep training. School reopened in my freshman year, and to my surprise, my conservatory instructor started working at my high school. High school was everything I hoped it would be. I joined the cheer team and got a leading role in the fall theater show. I was nominated for a Kappies award “Best Female Vocalist”for that show. Things were going well but that changed quickly. My theater mentor, who had once supported me, was furious when I joined the cheer team. I didn’t do the next show, choosing to focus on cheer, and from that moment, things changed. I was picked on, yelled at, humiliated in front of my peers. He even went as far as calling my mother and telling her I was gay. I wasn’t prepared for that. It was my choice and he made it more ammunition against me. At 14, I wasn’t prepared to stand up to an adult bully. My confidence shattered. My love for theater dimmed. By the end of my freshman year, I switched from theater to vocal for my mental well being. After much soul searching i set my heart on teaching. Making a positive impact on lives was what I wanted to do. It wasn’t until the summer before my junior year that my feelings changed. A theatre conservatory awarded me a summer intensive pre-college scholarship. I didn’t want to go. I was pushed out of my comfort zone. The theatre geek in me was alive again. I love to perform, I still want to teach. These experiences good and bad helped me to follow thru with my desires. I am a JV peer mentor. I teach the girls a variety of skills. These girls are very special to me. In a sense they are bullied, often teased about not making varsity and not being good enough. I am proud to say that with my help the JV team has performed at every varsity event which has never happened in the history of my school. Watching them grow and accomplish this has made my heart feel so full. Looking back, I wonder how different high school might have been if my experience had gone another way. That tough period helped me discover my passion for teaching and mentoring. I wouldn’t allow anyone to shake my confidence in my skills again. I’m not the same person who sat outside that door - I’ve grown, fought through adversity, and come out stronger.

He crushed my dreams! But don't worry, it wasn't my soulmate. In my freshman year of high school, I became the target of a bully. Shockingly, this bully was my theatre teacher. He targeted me simply because I wanted to explore other activities. I wasn’t giving up on my dreams; I just wanted to try new things and broaden my horizons. At 14, I was ill-equipped to handle an adult bully. My confidence plummeted, and my passion for theatre dimmed under his relentless criticism. Eventually, my mother stepped in and removed me from his class, but by then, seven months of damage had already taken its toll on me. But enough of the gloom! I am a happy teenager now, filled with hope and enthusiasm. Can I sing you a song or two? Have you ever noticed that the happiest places usually have music playing in the background? Music has an incredible power to make people smile and relax. I want to be part of that magical world! One day, you’ll see me on Broadway, performing in front of packed audiences. I also dream of becoming a music therapist, using the healing power of music to help others. With the support of therapy, dedicated educators, and caring theatre professionals, I found my way back. A prestigious theatre conservatory offered me a summer intensive program. Although I was nervous, stepping back onto the stage reignited the spark within me. That summer, a seed was planted, and now I am blooming once again. I’ve embraced my identity as a triple threat—singing, acting, and dancing. I pushed through the concrete barriers of doubt and fear to become the rose you see today. I love to perform, but I also have a deep desire to make a positive impact on people’s lives, much like the impact others had on mine. Helping people through their tough times is my passion. Through music therapy, I aim to use my musical skills and education to support people as they strive to improve their health, functioning, and overall well-being. Every note I sing and every role I play brings me closer to my dreams. But more importantly, I want to be a beacon of hope and inspiration for others, showing them that with resilience and support, they too can overcome their struggles and find their own path to happiness.

"99 Credits and a Degree of None" is my mother’s favorite made-up song. She attended five different colleges, exploring numerous majors, often joking about her "jack-of-all-trades" degree. Deep down, I know she wishes she had a formal one. My dad took a different path, completing a program that helped him earn a high school diploma and a trade certification. Becoming a first-generation college graduate would mean a lot to them, and their desire for me to pursue higher education is strong. However, this isn’t my sole motivation for wanting to go to college. My journey with theatre began in fourth grade when I played Little Red in "Into the Woods." This early experience ignited my passion for the stage. Recognizing my interest, I attended a magnet school for performing arts, where I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself as rigorously as any athlete. When I entered high school, I auditioned for the fall show and secured a leading role. Later, I was honored with a nomination for Best Female Vocalist in Musical Theatre for high school actresses, an acknowledgment that affirmed my dedication and talent. However, after this nomination, my life took an unexpected turn. As a curious teenager, I wanted to explore other after-school programs. My theatre teacher disapproved, interpreting my interest in other activities as a lack of commitment to theatre. He bullied and belittled me, transforming me from a star pupil into a shadow of my former self. Theatre had been an integral part of my identity, and without it, I felt lost. My passion for theatre waned as I began associating it with the negative experiences inflicted by my teacher. My mother often said that her songbird had stopped singing. I withdrew into myself, spending days in bed, overwhelmed by sadness and tears. The constant targeting and insults from my teacher echoed in my mind, drowning out any joy I once found in performing. Needing to escape, I auditioned for the vocal program, which became a turning point in my life. My strong voice earned me a place in advanced classes, where I learned techniques that enhanced my diction, strengthened my singing, and taught me to read music. This new training rekindled my sense of purpose, and I was often invited to volunteer at events to sing. Therapy helped me navigate this difficult period, but it was music that truly healed me. I realized that I could not only pursue my passion but also use it to help others through music therapy. This revelation led me to dream of attending North Carolina A&T State University to major in musical theatre. I envision a future where I travel and perform on Disney cruises and later return to graduate school to earn a master's in music therapy. My ultimate goal is to go to college, bring my dreams to life, and help others achieve theirs by creating a safe and nurturing space through music therapy. I want to give more than I take, and through this journey, I’ve gained a profound perspective on my life's goals. My parents' hopes for me and my passion for music drive me to aspire to create positive change in the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing.

**Meet Madison Brooke Fraser!** That’s me! I’m an energetic, kind, and friendly person—beautiful inside and out, or so I’ve been told! I’m a performer through and through. I sing, dance, and act—what they call a triple threat. My dream? To be on Broadway. My dad thinks it’s unrealistic, but I’m determined to make it happen. I understand that it’s a tough and competitive road, but I’m in it for the long haul. Performing is my passion, and I’m truly dedicated to my craft. But performing isn’t my only passion. Have you ever noticed how music can change your mood, lift your spirits, or calm you down? That’s why I want to minor in music therapy. With all that’s happening in the world today, I believe we all need a little help sometimes, and I think music can be that help. Music connects us, brings comfort, and can heal in ways words alone cannot. I want to combine my love for music with the desire to help others, offering them the support they need. When I reflect on my journey, it all began in fourth grade. I played Little Red in *Into the Woods*, and that early experience ignited my love for the stage. My parents recognized my enthusiasm and encouraged me to pursue performing arts more seriously. That’s how I ended up at a magnet school for the performing arts. There, I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself with the same intensity as any serious athlete. My ultimate goal is to attend college, bring my dreams to life, and help others achieve theirs. Through music therapy, I aspire to create a safe and nurturing space where people can heal and grow. My hope is to give more than I take, and I’ve come to realize that my purpose extends far beyond my personal ambitions. My parents’ support and my passion for music motivate me to make a positive impact on the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing. Funny story: When I was a kid, I used to think my name was “Madison Broke Fraser.” My mom quickly corrected me, and I’m determined not to live up to that version of my name when I graduate college! Thank you for taking the time to get to know me, and for considering me for any scholarships. I'm excited for the future and all the opportunities ahead!

First and foremost, I would like to extend my deepest condolences for B.A.B.Y L.O.V.E. I am truly honored to apply for her scholarship. I believe I embody her spirit through my dedication to volunteering and my compassionate heart. I am deeply committed to supporting and uplifting young Black girls, helping them grow as I have. Last year, I faced a significant challenge that changed the course of my high school experience. I was diagnosed with severe anemia, which drastically affected my energy levels and made it difficult for me to fully participate in school and extracurricular activities. As a result, I began missing school and practices, and my performance suffered. Being co-captain of the auxiliary team was a dream come true, but my health issues began to strain my relationships with my teammates and coaches. They didn’t fully understand how debilitating anemia could be, and to be honest, neither did I or my parents. As I struggled to keep up, I was gradually pushed out of my role as co-captain. This was devastating—I was losing the sisterhood I had built with my team and missing out on the performances I loved. My grades began to slip, and the high school experience I had once cherished was slipping away. When it came time to try out for the team again, I knew I had to make a difficult decision. I chose to step back, focusing on my health and preparing for a better senior year. My grades had suffered slightly, and that was unacceptable to me. At my school, we have a Junior Varsity team. Although I still wanted to be part of the auxiliary, I knew I couldn't participate in the capacity that was required. I took a chance and asked if I could be a peer mentor to the team of younger girls.This position has never existed but I knew if I did not ask for it I would be in the sidelines. I had already proven to be a good leader and had the knowledge and skills to teach and mentor the young ladies. Thankfully, I was allowed to do so. This summer, I volunteered my mornings teaching them, and I currently volunteer after school. Being with them and giving back has been an amazing journey. I now have 13 little sisters. I’ve always wanted to be a big sister, but after losing my own sister, I never had the chance to create the bonds that I now have. These girls have someone close to their age that they can talk to about schoolwork, teachers, the coach, makeup, and even their relationships. I am trying to teach them how to be young ladies who stand up for themselves and know they have the power to do whatever they want in life. I want them to know as young black girls they will grow into powerful black women. I’ve given them my time, and they’ve given me their love. I’ve volunteered with many organizations and have accumulated about 600 hours, not including this experience. Each opportunity has been rewarding, but nothing compares to being a big sister. I believe giving back is essential for community growth. My time with them is flying by quickly, and I’ve decided that they’ll have me next summer as well. Hopefully, I’ll be back to continue this bond with during summer breaks away from school. If life permits I’ll even return for new members or volunteer as a coach.

**Meet Madison Brooke Fraser!** That’s me! I’m an energetic, kind, and friendly person—beautiful inside and out, or so I’ve been told! I’m a performer through and through. I sing, dance, and act—what they call a triple threat. My dream? To be on Broadway. My dad thinks it’s unrealistic, but I’m determined to make it happen. I understand that it’s a tough and competitive road, but I’m in it for the long haul. Performing is my passion, and I’m truly dedicated to my craft. But performing isn’t my only passion. Have you ever noticed how music can change your mood, lift your spirits, or calm you down? That’s why I want to minor in music therapy. With all that’s happening in the world today, I believe we all need a little help sometimes, and I think music can be that help. Music connects us, brings comfort, and can heal in ways words alone cannot. I want to combine my love for music with the desire to help others, offering them the support they need. When I reflect on my journey, it all began in fourth grade. I played Little Red in *Into the Woods*, and that early experience ignited my love for the stage. My parents recognized my enthusiasm and encouraged me to pursue performing arts more seriously. That’s how I ended up at a magnet school for the performing arts. There, I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself with the same intensity as any serious athlete. My ultimate goal is to attend college, bring my dreams to life, and help others achieve theirs. Through music therapy, I aspire to create a safe and nurturing space where people can heal and grow. My hope is to give more than I take, and I’ve come to realize that my purpose extends far beyond my personal ambitions. My parents’ support and my passion for music motivate me to make a positive impact on the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing. Funny story: When I was a kid, I used to think my name was “Madison Broke Fraser.” My mom quickly corrected me, and I’m determined not to live up to that version of my name when I graduate college! Thank you for taking the time to get to know me, and for considering me for any scholarships. I'm excited for the future and all the opportunities ahead!

“Obstacles don’t have to stop you. If you run into a wall, don’t turn around and give up. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it.” — Michael Jordan After I read that quote while doing research for an assignment, it changed my view on how I would navigate my situation. I knew my path would be what I made it. Last year, I faced a significant challenge that changed the course of my high school experience. I was diagnosed with severe anemia, which drastically affected my energy levels and made it difficult for me to fully participate in school and extracurricular activities. As a result, I began missing school and practices, and my performance suffered. Being co-captain of the Magnificent Majorette team was a dream come true, but my health issues began to strain my relationships with my teammates and coaches. They didn’t fully understand how debilitating anemia could be, and to be honest, neither did I or my parents. As I struggled to keep up, I was gradually pushed out of my role as co-captain. This was devastating—I was losing the sisterhood I had built with my team and missing out on the performances I loved. My grades began to drop , and the high school experience wasn’t fun anymore. When it came time to try out for the team again, I knew I had to make a difficult decision. I chose to step back, focusing on my health and preparing for a better senior year. My grades had suffered slightly, and that was unacceptable to me. Although I still wanted to be part of the auxiliary, I knew I couldn't participate in the capacity that was required. At my school, we have a Junior Varsity team. I took a chance and asked if I could be a peer mentor to the team of younger girls. This position had never existed, but I knew if I didn’t ask for it, I would end up on the sidelines. I had already proven to be a good leader and had the knowledge and skills to teach and mentor the young ladies. Thankfully, I was allowed to do so. This summer, I volunteered my mornings teaching them, and I currently volunteer after school. Being with them and giving back has been an amazing journey. I now have 13 little sisters. I’ve always wanted to be a big sister, but after losing my own sister, I never had the chance to create the bonds that I now have. These girls have someone close to their age that they can talk to about schoolwork, teachers, the coach, makeup, and even their relationships. I’m trying to teach them how to be young ladies who stand up for themselves and know they have the power to do whatever they want in life. I want them to know that as young Black girls, they will grow into powerful Black women. I’ve given them my time, and they’ve given me their love. I’ve volunteered with many organizations and have accumulated about 600 hours, not including this experience. Each opportunity has been rewarding, but nothing compares to being a big sister. I believe giving back is essential for community growth. My time with them is flying by quickly, and I’ve decided that they’ll have me next summer as well. Hopefully, I’ll be back to continue this bond during summer breaks away from school. If life permits, I’ll even return for new members or volunteer as a coach.

He crushed my dreams! But don't worry, it wasn't my soulmate. In my freshman year of high school, I became the target of a bully. Shockingly, this bully was my theatre teacher. He targeted me simply because I wanted to explore other activities. I wasn’t giving up on my dreams; I just wanted to try new things and broaden my horizons. At 14, I was ill-equipped to handle an adult bully. My confidence plummeted, and my passion for theatre dimmed under his relentless criticism. Eventually, my mother stepped in and removed me from his class, but by then, seven months of damage had already taken its toll on me. But enough of the gloom! I am a happy teenager now, filled with hope and enthusiasm. Can I sing you a song or two? Have you ever noticed that the happiest places usually have music playing in the background? Music has an incredible power to make people smile and relax. I want to be part of that magical world! One day, you’ll see me on Broadway, performing in front of packed audiences. I also dream of becoming a music therapist, using the healing power of music to help others. With the support of therapy, dedicated educators, and caring theatre professionals, I found my way back. A prestigious theatre conservatory offered me a summer intensive program. Although I was nervous, stepping back onto the stage reignited the spark within me. That summer, a seed was planted, and now I am blooming once again. I’ve embraced my identity as a triple threat—singing, acting, and dancing. I pushed through the concrete barriers of doubt and fear to become the rose you see today. I love to perform, but I also have a deep desire to make a positive impact on people’s lives, much like the impact others had on mine. Helping people through their tough times is my passion. Through music therapy, I aim to use my musical skills and education to support people as they strive to improve their health, functioning, and overall well-being. Every note I sing and every role I play brings me closer to my dreams. But more importantly, I want to be a beacon of hope and inspiration for others, showing them that with resilience and support, they too can overcome their struggles and find their own path to happiness. Theatre tells a story of resilience, love, laughter, courage and endearment. The stories tell of the good, bad and the ugly. I want to be a part of it forever. Thank you for your consideration.

He crushed my dreams! But don't worry, it wasn't my soulmate. In my freshman year of high school, I became the target of a bully. Shockingly, this bully was my theatre teacher. He targeted me simply because I wanted to explore other activities. I wasn’t giving up on my dreams; I just wanted to try new things and broaden my horizons. At 14, I was ill-equipped to handle an adult bully. My confidence plummeted, and my passion for theatre dimmed under his relentless criticism. Eventually, my mother stepped in and removed me from his class, but by then, seven months of damage had already taken its toll on me. But enough of the gloom! I am a happy teenager now, filled with hope and enthusiasm. Can I sing you a song or two? Have you ever noticed that the happiest places usually have music playing in the background? Music has an incredible power to make people smile and relax. I want to be part of that magical world! One day, you’ll see me on Broadway, performing in front of packed audiences. I also dream of becoming a music therapist, using the healing power of music to help others. With the support of therapy, dedicated educators, and caring theatre professionals, I found my way back. A prestigious theatre conservatory offered me a summer intensive program. Although I was nervous, stepping back onto the stage reignited the spark within me. That summer, a seed was planted, and now I am blooming once again. I’ve embraced my identity as a triple threat—singing, acting, and dancing. I pushed through the concrete barriers of doubt and fear to become the rose you see today. I love to perform, but I also have a deep desire to make a positive impact on people’s lives, much like the impact others had on mine. Helping people through their tough times is my passion. Through music therapy, I aim to use my musical skills and education to support people as they strive to improve their health, functioning, and overall well-being. Every note I sing and every role I play brings me closer to my dreams. But more importantly, I want to be a beacon of hope and inspiration for others, showing them that with resilience and support, they too can overcome their struggles and find their own path to happiness. Theatre tells a story of resilience, love, laughter, courage and endearment. The stories tell of the good, bad and the ugly. I just want to be a part of it forever. Thank you for your consideration.

I can only introduce you to what memory I have of Chrissy. Christine Brooklynn Fraser, affectionately known as Chrissy, was named after our grandmother and me. I had always wanted a sister, and I dreamed of us sharing the same name. Though my mother insisted we only share the middle name, the connection further bonded us. Before my mother even knew she was pregnant, I had been telling people that she was going to have a baby. They would come to her with congratulations. Somehow, I manifested the arrival of my little sister. My mother has both type 1 and type 2 diabetes, a rare and challenging combination that made pregnancy difficult. I was born prematurely at six months, and after such a scary experience, my mother wasn't keen on going through another risky pregnancy. I was over the moon. My mother's belly grew, we shopped for baby items together. Chrissy finally arrived, but she was born with a severe heart condition. I visited her in the hospital every day. I wasn't allowed to hold her due to her condition, but I don't think I fully grasped how sick she was. Chrissy stayed in the hospital from October to December. All I wanted for Christmas was to have my baby sister home. She came home Christmas Day. I often fell asleep with her in my arms. She cried a lot because of the pain from her heart condition. Her life, though filled with love, was not easy. She had numerous medical appointments and therapy sessions. I often accompanied my mom and Chrissy on these trips. Despite knowing it was against the rules, I would sometimes take her out of her car seat while driving. Looking back, I'm glad I did, cherishing those precious moments now that she's gone. One day, Chrissy got sick. She suffered multiple heart attacks and she never made it back home. I vividly remember the night she passed away. She came to me in what felt like a dream, but it was as real as any waking moment. She said goodbye and asked me to tell our mom that she was no longer in pain. I sang at her funeral, and the memory of Chrissy remains a significant part of me. Over the years, I have sought sisterly bonds to fill the void left by Chrissy's passing. Although the pain of losing her never fades, I have found joy in mentoring others. As a junior coach, I have about fifteen girls who look up to me for advice on relationships, makeup, and school. While it can be overwhelming at times, I cherish the role of being a big sister to them. It is my way of channeling the love I had for Chrissy and ensuring her spirit lives on. No one can ever replace my Chrissy Bear. My life has felt incomplete, Chrissy’s memory helps me to be the best mentor I can be, sharing the love and support that she brought into my life.

I can only introduce you to what memory I have of Chrissy. Christine Brooklynn Fraser, affectionately known as Chrissy, was named after our grandmother and me. I had always wanted a sister, and I dreamed of us sharing the same name. Though my mother insisted we only share the middle name, the connection further bonded us. Before my mother even knew she was pregnant, I had been telling people that she was going to have a baby. They would come to her with congratulations, and she was bewildered by my certainty. Somehow, I manifested the arrival of my little sister. My mother has both type 1 and type 2 diabetes, a rare and challenging combination that made pregnancy difficult. I was born prematurely at six months, and after such a scary experience, my mother wasn't keen on going through another risky pregnancy. Yet, here we were, with her pregnant again, and I was over the moon. As my mother's belly grew, we shopped for baby items together, and I watched in anticipation. Chrissy finally arrived, but she was born with a severe heart condition. Despite her fragility and the tubes and oxygen keeping her alive, I visited her in the hospital every day. I wasn't allowed to hold her due to her condition, but I don't think I fully grasped how sick she was. Chrissy stayed in the hospital from October to December. All I wanted for Christmas was to have my baby sister home. Miraculously, that wish came true when Chrissy was discharged on Christmas Day. Holding her for the first time was a dream come true, and I often fell asleep with her in my arms. She cried a lot, and I later understood it was because of the pain from her heart condition. Her life, though filled with love, was not easy. She had numerous medical appointments and therapy sessions. I often accompanied my mom and Chrissy on these trips. Despite knowing it was against the rules, I would sometimes take her out of her car seat while driving. Looking back, I'm glad I did, cherishing those precious moments now that she's gone. One day, Chrissy became gravely ill and had to return to the hospital. She suffered multiple heart attacks and she never made it back home. I vividly remember the night she passed away. She came to me in what felt like a dream, but it was as real as any waking moment. She said goodbye and asked me to tell our mom that she was no longer in pain. I sang at her funeral, and the memory of Chrissy remains a significant part of me. Over the years, I have sought sisterly bonds to fill the void left by Chrissy's passing. Although the pain of losing her never fades, I have found joy in mentoring others. As a junior coach, I have about fifteen girls who look up to me for advice on relationships, makeup, and school. While it can be overwhelming at times, I cherish the role of being a big sister to them. It is my way of channeling the love I had for Chrissy and ensuring her spirit lives on. No one can ever replace my Chrissy Bear, but I strive to give my team the love and guidance she deserved. My life has felt incomplete without the joys of having my sister, but I have made the best of it by being a big sister to others. Chrissy’s memory helps me to be the best mentor I can be, sharing the love and support that she brought into my life.

Was COVID over? No one knew. It did not matter; school reopened. Musical theatre was my major freshman year. My journey with theatre began in fourth grade when I played Little Red in "Into the Woods." This early experience ignited my passion for the stage. Recognizing my interest, I attended a magnet school for performing arts, where I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself as rigorously as any athlete. When I entered high school, I auditioned for the fall show and secured a leading role. Later, I was honored with a nomination for Best Female Vocalist in Musical Theatre for high school actresses, an acknowledgment that affirmed my dedication and talent. However, after this nomination, my life took an unexpected turn. As a curious teenager, I wanted to explore other after-school programs. My theatre teacher disapproved, interpreting my interest in other activities as a lack of commitment to theatre. He bullied and belittled me, transforming me from a star pupil into a shadow of my former self. Theatre had been an integral part of my identity, and without it, I felt lost. My passion for theatre waned as I began associating it with the negative experiences inflicted by my teacher. My mother often said that her songbird had stopped singing. I withdrew into myself, spending days in bed, overwhelmed by sadness and tears. The constant targeting and insults from my teacher echoed in my mind, drowning out any joy I once found in performing. Needing to escape, I auditioned for the vocal program, which became a turning point in my life. My strong voice earned me a place in advanced classes, where I learned techniques that enhanced my diction, strengthened my singing, and taught me to read music. Therapy helped me navigate this difficult period, but it was music that truly healed me. I realized that I could not only pursue my passion but also use it to help others through music therapy. I envision a future where I travel and perform on Disney cruises and later return to graduate school to earn a master's in music therapy. Reflecting on my journey, I realize how each experience has shaped my resolve and broadened my vision for the future. Despite the setbacks and the bullying, these experiences taught me resilience and the importance of staying true to oneself. It was through this adversity that I discovered the power of music to heal and inspire. At North Carolina A&T State University, I aim to immerse myself in the rich traditions of musical theatre while developing my skills to become a versatile performer and compassionate therapist. My goal is to use my talents to bring joy and healing to diverse audiences, from enchanted Disney cruise audiences to individuals in therapeutic settings. Ultimately, my dream is to create a nurturing space through music therapy where individuals can find solace and strength. I want to give more than I take, and through this journey, I’ve gained a profound perspective on my life's goals. My parents' hopes for me and my passion for music drive me to aspire to create positive change in the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing. As I look ahead, I am filled with optimism and determination. The challenges I faced have only deepened my commitment to my dreams. I am excited to continue my journey, bringing my visions to life and helping others achieve theirs, all while staying true to the music that has always been my refuge and my joy.

Was COVID over? No one knew. It did not matter; school reopened. Musical theatre was my major freshman year. My journey with theatre began in fourth grade when I played Little Red in "Into the Woods." This early experience ignited my passion for the stage. Recognizing my interest, I attended a magnet school for performing arts, where I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself as rigorously as any athlete. When I entered high school, I auditioned for the fall show and secured a leading role. Later, I was honored with a nomination for Best Female Vocalist in Musical Theatre for high school actresses, an acknowledgment that affirmed my dedication and talent. However, after this nomination, my life took an unexpected turn. As a curious teenager, I wanted to explore other after-school programs. My theatre teacher disapproved, interpreting my interest in other activities as a lack of commitment to theatre. He bullied and belittled me, transforming me from a star pupil into a shadow of my former self. Theatre had been an integral part of my identity, and without it, I felt lost. My passion for theatre waned as I began associating it with the negative experiences inflicted by my teacher. My mother often said that her songbird had stopped singing. I withdrew into myself, spending days in bed, overwhelmed by sadness and tears. The constant targeting and insults from my teacher echoed in my mind, drowning out any joy I once found in performing. Needing to escape, I auditioned for the vocal program, which became a turning point in my life. My strong voice earned me a place in advanced classes, where I learned techniques that enhanced my diction, strengthened my singing, and taught me to read music. Therapy helped me navigate this difficult period, but it was music that truly healed me. I realized that I could not only pursue my passion but also use it to help others through music therapy. I envision a future where I travel and perform on Disney cruises and later return to graduate school to earn a master's in music therapy. Reflecting on my journey, I realize how each experience has shaped my resolve and broadened my vision for the future. Despite the setbacks and the bullying, these experiences taught me resilience and the importance of staying true to oneself. It was through this adversity that I discovered the power of music to heal and inspire. At North Carolina A&T State University, I aim to immerse myself in the rich traditions of musical theatre while developing my skills to become a versatile performer and compassionate therapist. My goal is to use my talents to bring joy and healing to diverse audiences, from enchanted Disney cruise audiences to individuals in therapeutic settings. Ultimately, my dream is to create a nurturing space through music therapy where individuals can find solace and strength. I want to give more than I take, and through this journey, I’ve gained a profound perspective on my life's goals. My parents' hopes for me and my passion for music drive me to aspire to create positive change in the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing. As I look ahead, I am filled with optimism and determination. The challenges I faced have only deepened my commitment to my dreams. I am excited to continue my journey, bringing my visions to life and helping others achieve theirs, all while staying true to the music that has always been my refuge and my joy.

Was COVID over? No one knew. It did not matter; school reopened. Musical theatre was my major. My journey with theatre began in fourth grade when I played Little Red in "Into the Woods." This early experience ignited my passion for the stage. Recognizing my interest, I attended a magnet school for performing arts, where I immersed myself in vocal training and dance lessons, dedicating myself as rigorously as any athlete. When I entered high school, I auditioned for the fall show and secured a leading role. Later, I was honored with a nomination for Best Female Vocalist in Musical Theatre for high school actresses, an acknowledgment that affirmed my dedication and talent. However, after this nomination, my life took an unexpected turn. As a curious teenager, I wanted to explore other after-school programs. My theatre teacher disapproved, interpreting my interest in other activities as a lack of commitment to theatre. He bullied and belittled me, transforming me from a star pupil into a shadow of my former self. Theatre had been an integral part of my identity, and without it, I felt lost. My passion for theatre waned as I began associating it with the negative experiences inflicted by my teacher. My mother often said that her songbird had stopped singing. I withdrew into myself, spending days in bed, overwhelmed by sadness and tears. The constant targeting and insults from my teacher echoed in my mind, drowning out any joy I once found in performing. I mentally checked out. I could not perform normal day-to-day activities. Needing to escape, I auditioned for the vocal program, which became a turning point in my life. My strong voice earned me a place in advanced classes, where I learned techniques that enhanced my diction, strengthened my singing, and taught me to read music. This new training rekindled my sense of purpose. Therapy helped me navigate this difficult period, but it was music that truly healed me. I realized that I could not only pursue my passion but also use it to help others through music therapy. I envision a future where I travel and perform on Disney cruises and later return to graduate school to earn a master's in music therapy. Reflecting on my journey, I realize how each experience has shaped my resolve and broadened my vision for the future. Despite the setbacks and the bullying, these experiences taught me resilience and the importance of staying true to oneself. It was through this that I discovered the power of music to heal and inspire. At North Carolina A&T State University, I will study musical theatre while developing my skills to become a versatile performer and compassionate therapist. My goal is to use my talents to bring joy and healing to diverse audiences, from enchanted Disney cruise audiences to individuals in therapeutic settings. Ultimately, my dream is to create a nurturing space through music therapy where individuals can find solace and strength. I want to give more than I take, and through this journey, I’ve gained a profound perspective on my life's goals. My passion for music drives me to aspire to create positive change in the world, both on stage and in the hearts of those who need healing. I am filled with optimism and determination. The challenges I faced have only deepened my commitment to my dreams. I am excited to continue my journey, bringing my visions to life and helping others achieve theirs, all while staying true to the music that has always been my refuge and my joy.

No one knew if COVID-19 was truly over, but it didn’t matter. Schools had reopened, and life began to inch towards normalcy. Musical theatre was my major, and I was balancing my time between performing and cheerleading. It was a hard balance, one that I cherished deeply. Then, my theatre teacher gave me an ultimatum: focus solely on theatre or be excluded. I wanted to be well-rounded and refused to give up cheerleading. As a result, he stopped casting me and instead, resorted to bullying. My transition from a star pupil to a shadow cast a seed of insecurity within me. I dreaded school, getting out of bed, even eating. I hated life. I needed therapy to deal with situation. Determined not to let one person's negativity define me, I transferred to the vocal department. It was a challenging decision, but I found peace in my new environment. I joined auxiliary, cheerleading, and student government, eventually becoming an Auxiliary Junior Coach. My sophomore year was better—I learned voice techniques, sight reading, and other essential skills for a career in theatre. Each day, I worked hard to rebuild my confidence and rekindle my passion. Last summer, a significant opportunity arose. I was awarded a scholarship to attend an intensive theatre program at a conservatory, based on my freshmen -year audition. This experience was nothing short of magical. Surrounded by talented peers and inspiring mentors, I felt the spark of my dream reignite. For a time, I thought that dream had withered away under the weight of my teacher's harsh words and actions. However, the conservatory replanted the seed of hope and ambition in my heart. This year, that seed has bloomed spectacularly. I have decided to again pursue musical theatre in college. The stolen dream is no longer part of my story. Stepping on stage as a junior, I rediscovered my love for performance. The thrill of the spotlight, the rush of emotion, and the sense of belonging were all-encompassing. I realized that musical theatre is not just a career choice; it is my calling. My journey is far from easy. My father is disappointed. He believes that pursuing a career in singing is foolish and refuses to support my dream. This lack of support is a heavy burden. Growing up, my father was my hero, and his disapproval cuts deep. I have learned that true courage is about pushing forward, even when the path is full with obstacles and uncertainty. Having the courage to step out and grow without his support is daunting, but necessary. I am applying for this scholarship because I cannot afford for my dreams to diminish again due to lack of belief or financial support. Winning this scholarship would enable me to show my father that I am serious about financing my education and following my passion. It would provide the financial stability I need to focus on my studies and performances, rather than being consumed by the worry of how to pay for my education. This scholarship would be a testament to my resilience and dedication. It would validate my hard work and perseverance in the face of adversity. You never know when seeds are planted, with the right nourishment, they can be fruitful. The conservatory showed me that, and now I seek to continue growing and thriving in a supportive college environment. Courage to grow is a seed that grows forever. My journey has taught me that setbacks and challenges can be the very soil from which our strongest dreams grow. I am ready to embrace my future, confident in my abilities and determined to succeed. This scholarship is not just financial aid; it is a beacon of hope and a stepping stone towards my dream of a career in musical theatre. With support, I can turn my aspirations into reality and prove that with courage, anything is possible. Thank you for your consideration.

I sat in my bed with tears running down my face. Nonstop voices in my head. I couldn't see the future, obsessed with the past. I couldn't find a way to make the sadness stop. If I could use one word to describe that feeling, the word would be maddening. My teacher had been bullying me for months. My mother went to the school and nothing was done. We had to wait until the new school year for me to get away from him. That time in my life was not only hard for me but also for my mom. She could not sleep at night. Checking on me constantly to make sure I did not do anything to harm myself. It was bad. She could not enjoy life. She was sick with worry over me. Eventually, it became too much for her. She went to therapy. She thought she had gotten past it on her own but the fear of me being sad like that again would not go away. Her therapist helped our relationship get stronger. She helped my mom heal and learn to express what she feels. We were never in a bad relationship but therapy helped us bond more. As hard as that time was for me, I have to say I came out with a new understanding of life and healing. The experience opened my eyes to what I could do to be a more productive person in society. This teacher was my theatre teacher. He was someone I looked up to. I stopped dreaming my dream. I stopped singing. I allowed him to steal my dreams. But I took them back! I will be going to college for musical theatre and music therapy. I want to make a difference. I do believe that music is joyous. But music can also be healing. I went to therapy during this dark period. The techniques the therapist wanted me to incorporate into my life did not work for me. It wasn't the therapy I needed. I started reading up on different methods and I discovered music therapy. My healing came from this technique. We are all different in what we need as individuals. The same goes for therapy. It is not a one-size-fits-all method. It needs to be tailored to individuals. It is only because I experienced this, that I changed my goals to integrate music therapy. I still get sad at times. Sad that the world we live in is filled with hate. That there are many disappointing days. Sad that our expectations of how our life should be are often not. I have learned from an early age that people will project their hurt. My mother often says “Hurt people hurt people”. Because of this, I promise to always choose to heal myself and others around me. I don't want to be a person that hurts people with my words, my actions or hurt by my absence because I couldn't heal from the hurt. I am an artist ” The show must go on”. Therefore I must keep myself mentally healthy to keep performing on and off the stage.

When I see beauty, I see more than a face. Zendaya is a beauty! Zendaya is an icon! Zendaya is a legend for my generation. She is a feminist. She is an activist! Her beauty radiates from the inside out and vice versa. Zendaya’s beauty is more than skin deep. Her beauty is defined by her many talents and her passions. Her willingness to be vulnerable and honest about her life and struggles. The thing I admire is her activism on topics that are shaping our society in real-time. Racial justice, body positivity, and diversity are a few of her passions. Her successes on these issues are constantly displayed. Racial inclusivity is a topic that she is not shy about discussing. During the Black Lives Matter protest, she allowed Patrisse Cullors (co-founder of the Black Lives Matter movement) to use her Instagram to share anti-racism resources. Zendaya has used her social media platform to advocate for inclusive representation. In one of her interviews, she discusses that she is part of the movement that advocates for underrepresented individuals. She uses her platform to create content and amplify the voices of marginalized communities. A few years ago, when she created her collaborated fashion line with Tommy Hilfiger, she made it a point to say that she was making a collection that would appeal to an array of body types that she sees in her family. She also shared that the clothes would be a tribute to working women. We live in a generation where women are taking over different career fields and should have options to represent them properly and fashionably. In an article in Teen Vogue, she talked about Beverly Johnson, the first black woman to be on the cover of Vogue. She attributed her success for her Vogue cover to her. Zendaya expressed it was her duty to say thank you and do the same by continually opening doors. She stated “That’s the only way doors are going to continue to be open - If we keep inviting people who look like us, and other people who don’t look like us, to come through the door”. This is another example of how she advocates for diversity. I am a musical theatre student and seeing someone like myself being represented on a huge platform is encouraging. It keeps hope alive for me. In an industry that doesn’t have a lot of representation for people like myself, I can see my future possibilities through her successes. She has proven that her skills are not limited because of her background. She is not ashamed of who she culturally represents. She has continuously created opportunities for young people like myself while paying homage to those before her.