I’ve known since I was nine years old, standing on the set of Bessie playing alongside Queen Latifah, that I wanted to be a storyteller. That moment sparked something in me. Being in front of the camera felt like home, and I realized that performance was more than entertainment—it was a way to connect people, shift emotions, and make something unforgettable. That feeling has stayed with me ever since. My "why" is simple: I want to create stories that help people feel seen. Especially Black girls like me, who don’t always get to see ourselves reflected with depth, power, or softness on screen. I want to show the world that our voices, emotions, and experiences matter—and that art can be a form of healing. Even with all the advances in technology, from AI to automatic scriptwriting, I believe there’s still something sacred about human storytelling. AI can generate a story—but it can’t feel pain, experience joy, or live a life. That’s what makes my voice valuable. I bring my background, my culture, my emotions, and my point of view into every role and every piece I create. One of my biggest dreams is to create a TV series centered on a group of Black teenage girls growing up in the South—navigating friendship, identity, family pressure, and dreams bigger than their zip code. Think Insecure meets Euphoria, but for Gen Z girls who are layered, funny, complicated, and real. I want it to be part drama, part musical, part visual art—and completely unforgettable. At SCAD, I plan to learn everything I can about theater, directing, and storytelling so I can bring this vision to life. My goal is to create work that blends performance, music, fashion, and cultural commentary. I don’t just want to be part of the arts—I want to change how people see themselves through it.

Furthering my education is important to me because I want to build a life that reflects my purpose and passion. For me, that passion is art, specifically, theater. I’m attending the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) this fall to major in Theater Arts because I believe storytelling can heal, inspire, and connect people. I want to become a professional actress and director, not just to entertain, but to represent voices that often go unheard, especially those of young Black women like myself. Art has always helped me navigate the harder parts of life. When I transferred to South Paulding High School during my sophomore year, it was a big shift. I came from a predominantly Black school, and entering a space where I was one of the few Black students felt isolating. I struggled to make friends, I felt out of place, and honestly, I felt unseen. That was a really tough time for me emotionally. What helped me get through it was performance. Whether I was dancing at church, acting in school plays, or choreographing for the theater program, being creative helped me find my confidence again. Art gave me an outlet to express feelings I didn’t always have the words for. It reminded me that I still had something to offer, even when I felt like I didn’t fit in. Through art, I started building new connections. I got involved in leadership, served as Student Government President, and eventually became the second Black Miss South Paulding in nine years. That moment showed me how far I had come, from being quiet and unsure, to being a leader who other students could look up to. Art also taught me resilience. It showed me that even when the world feels confusing or heavy, I can still create something beautiful. That’s a lesson I carry into everything I do. While I haven’t been directly impacted by crime in my personal life, I know that many communities like mine are shaped by it in ways people often ignore. That’s another reason I care so deeply about representation and storytelling. I want to be a voice for the people whose stories don’t get told the right way…or at all. Education is my next step toward building that platform. I want to use what I learn at SCAD to create meaningful art, uplift others, and help the next generation see that they can turn their struggles into something powerful too.

Being part of a community has shown me that even when life feels heavy, people can still come together to lift each other up. I used to think I had to be strong all the time, that I had to carry everything by myself. But being around people who cared reminded me that it’s okay to lean on others, and even more important to be someone others can lean on too. One experience that really shaped me was volunteering from 2024-2025 at Riverdale Elementary, a Title I school where a lot of students come from families that are struggling financially and emotionally. I helped with school events, family engagement activities, and even some behind-the-scenes work most people wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t fancy or flashy, but it mattered. One night, I was helping pass out backpacks and school supplies at a back-to-school event. A little girl walked up to me, and I’ll never forget her name, Nasha. She gave me a big hug out of nowhere and told me she loved my outfit. Then she asked, “Are you a teacher?” I laughed and said, “No, I’m just a volunteer.” She looked up at me and smiled and said, “I want to be like you.” That moment hit me. In my opinion I wasn’t doing anything special, but to her, I was somebody worth looking up to. That’s when I realized that community isn’t about big gestures, it’s about being consistent, being kind, and just showing up. Helping at Riverdale also taught me what real resilience looks like. Some of the parents and kids I met were going through incredibly hard things, but they still showed up, with smiles, with hope, and with love for their families. It reminded me that strength doesn’t always look like perfection. Sometimes it just looks like being present when you’d rather disappear. That gave me hope—not just for my future, but for the future of people like me, who come from everyday communities and want to make a difference. It made me want to work harder, not just for myself, but for the kids like Nasha who are watching, even when we don’t realize it. Now, as I prepare to attend SCAD this fall, I’m taking that same energy with me. I plan to major in Theater Arts, using my creativity to tell stories that make people feel something, especially stories that reflect real communities and real people. Whether it’s through art, leadership, or just showing up for someone, I want to keep reminding people that they matter. I don’t know exactly where life will take me, but I know I’ll keep finding ways to build connection, show kindness, and be the type of person someone like Nasha can look up to.

Being part of a community has shown me that even when life feels heavy, people can still come together to lift each other up. I used to think I had to be strong all the time, that I had to carry everything by myself. But being around people who cared reminded me that it’s okay to lean on others, and even more important to be someone others can lean on too. One experience that really shaped me was volunteering at Riverdale Elementary, a Title I school where a lot of students come from families that are struggling financially and emotionally. I helped with school events, family engagement activities, and even some behind-the-scenes work most people wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t fancy or flashy, but it mattered. One night, I was helping pass out backpacks and school supplies at a back to school event. A little girl walked up to me, and I’ll never forget her name, Nasha. She gave me a big hug out of nowhere and told me she loved my outfit. Then she asked, “Are you a teacher?” I laughed and said, “No, I’m just a volunteer.” She looked up at me and smiled and said, “I want to be like you.” That moment hit me. In my opinion I wasn’t doing anything special, but to her, I was somebody worth looking up to. That’s when I realized that community isn’t about big gestures, it’s about being consistent, being kind, and just showing up. Helping at Riverdale also taught me what real resilience looks like. Some of the parents and kids I met were going through incredibly hard things, but they still showed up, with smiles, with hope, and with love for their families. It reminded me that strength doesn’t always look like perfection. Sometimes it just looks like being present when you’d rather disappear. That gave me hope—not just for my future, but for the future of people like me, who come from everyday communities and want to make a difference. It made me want to work harder, not just for myself, but for the kids like Nasha who are watching, even when we don’t realize it. Now, as I prepare to attend SCAD this fall, I’m taking that same energy with me. I plan to major in Theater Arts, using my creativity to tell stories that make people feel something, especially stories that reflect real communities and real people. Whether it’s through art, leadership, or just showing up for someone, I want to keep reminding people that they matter. I don’t know exactly where life will take me, but I know I’ll keep finding ways to build connection, show kindness, and be the type of person someone like Nasha can look up to.