My grandfather, Dr. Jimmy Jenkins Sr. has done more than inspire me, he has educated me. I know that change is possible and I can ignite it. In his life, he endured many trials but never allowed them to stop him from achieving his dreams. He grew up with seven siblings and his father was killed at a very young age. This means he endured the evident challenges of being a black man in the South during the era of segregation, only a few generations after the end of American slavery. His mother was not college-educated and he often took his educational and professional needs upon himself. In these specific attempts to gain knowledge, is where he faced the most abuse. He endured threats and attacks but continued to pursue education and social activism. I find this admirable due to the sheer difficulty of completing school alone, without the threat of violence. I can’t imagine being motivated to continue to achieve with the little resources I have, still being of lower quality than others. After graduating high school and attending Edward Waters University he eventually became the president. He raised my mom, aunt, and uncle with my grandmother and instilled a passion for education in them, he made sure to let them know they can. This same passion eventually reached me. He often mentions how blessed he is and doesn’t speak of his journey as if it was difficult. He rarely mentions his sacrifices or achievements. He doesn’t need to because I’ve been able to witness it and the products of what it means to have a passion for change. I’ve read about protest and educational discrimination but having my grandfather in my life has inspired me in a more personal way. Because of the strides he made, I know it's possible to go farther than ever. Sure, I have faced my own challenges but like him, I approach my education like a mission. I succeed because I want others to be able to more easily. I intentionally enter spaces as a minority or as an underrepresented party to encourage others to know it is possible for them. My grandfather taught me that to be educated is to know that you can. From his life, I know that I can. Each day I show up, present, speak, listen, or lead I want others to be educated. I want them to know that they can too.

My name is Michelle Cartwright and I am a high school senior at Salisbury High School. I’m in the top 15 percent of my class and participate in numerous community service and academic extracurricular activities. This includes being Salisbury Youth Council Secretary, Jack and Jill of America Queen City Chapter Teen Conference chair, a National Honors Society member, a Junior Civitan Club member, and a Crosby Scholar. I was also the president of Salisbury High's NAACP Club, a National American Miss State Finalist, and a Novant Health Teen Health Connection board member. I am very creative, determined and enjoy partaking in genuine service to my community. I plan to make a positive impact on the world through education on Substance Use Disorder by shamelessly holding conversations concerning this issue, establishing safe spaces in my community for resources, and keeping my peers in mind. This issue can often be an uncomfortable topic for some and when important conversations are avoided in the name of comfort, victims suffer. I want to encourage a productive and open dialogue concerning substance use. Drug use is advertised to youth as a coping mechanism and outlet for everyday stress. Through every entertainment and social media platform practices such as smoking and taking pills are sensationalized as effective and harmless ways to deal with daily trials. Talking about these realities will allow young people who are constantly exposed to these ideas to feel seen and free to ask questions about what they are seeing. Lack of conversation confuses victims into normalizing substance use and becoming ignorant of its long-term consequences and an array of legitimately effective coping mechanisms. Putting uncomfortably to the side to educate, uplift and save the lives of those who are suffering is crucial to recovering victims of substance use disorder. Resources and places of outreach are vital to the recovery of substance use victims. Many young people have limited access to trusted adults they feel can help them seek treatment. Harsh home environments may also discourage youth from recovering or acknowledging their issue. Parents and family may not always provide solutions that are helpful to their disorder. They may stifle the victim or refuse to acknowledge the problem to allow themselves to cope. As this is a very difficult matter I propose that trained professional counselors that specialize in Substance Use Disorder are appointed at all schools and advertised throughout the community. They can keep track of students and assist them by partaking in private check-ins, therapy sessions and informing them of positive methods of stress relief. Accusatory, delusional, and panicking parents can push youth toward drug use, instead of away from it. If at some point parents and youth are equipped by a trained professional to properly treat the disorder, victims can heal with the proper support system to actively promote health. Most importantly, to help those struggling with Substance Use Disorder I must keep my peers in mind. This refers to how the notions and ideas commonly associated with using drugs dehumanizes young people who are truly miserable and suffering. Rarely are youth who use drugs considered victims in any sense. They are told to never accept or use drugs but are not informed on why they might be tempted to in the first place. They are called addicts, potheads, junkies, and burnouts and become identified by a disorder they have no idea how to treat. In reality, they are simply misguided, uninformed, and just kids who are not their disorder. I will always acknowledge youth for who they are to uplift them into the healthy and prosperous life they deserve.

Recently I faced the adversity of remembering who I was as a person in my final year of high school. At one point this year I felt that my senior year failures would soon have a domino effect on the rest of my life. This year I failed at so many things I thought I would easily claim. I fought hard for countless opportunities that I was denied. People who I thought were my friends even rooted for me to fail. As a straight-A, athletic student who has been familiar with my classmates since elementary school, these outcomes shocked me, to say the least. I lost senior class President, and homecoming queen, stepped down from my dance captain position, and quit the team. I asked myself if I can’t be successful in simple things such as these, what will the future look like for me? I felt that I needed these roles and positions to show the fruits of my work from my entire academic career. I began to tell myself I must not have worked hard enough, maybe I was not smart enough or I am just not enough. Soon cheer tryouts were advertised at my school. I automatically dismissed the opportunity due to my discouraging losses and fear of once again falling short in the public eye. I knew that my mother was trying to encourage me to join an extracurricular activity since I ended my journey with the dance team. I called her and told her how I felt about tryouts and how terrified I was about ripping yet another piece of my self-confidence. She reminded me of my years of dance experience, bubbly personality and team members I was already familiar with. It was then that I finally realized that my ability isn’t defined by the titles I receive and failure is only that if you let it be. I tried out for cheerleading and made the varsity team, I became secretary of the Salisbury Youth Council and I won a $5,000 scholarship by a landslide at an oratorical contest and left with almost every trophy possibly for the superlative categories. I also became a state finalist in the National American Miss Pagent. All of these honors would have never been possible if I pursued them for validation of my character and talent as I did before. I almost got to a point where I let my setbacks prevent me from opportunities for further success, which would be the one true form of failure. Even though I did not become class president I made so many friends from the campaign. When I lost homecoming queen almost everyone in attendance complimented my gown, congratulated me, and even invited me to a pageant. Now that I no longer dance, I have sharpened a new skill and gained unforgettable high school experiences and true friends. Those aspects of those moments are what define who I am and how successful I am whether I’m acknowledged or not. I finally overcame the need to pursue opportunities to prove my worth. Now, I pursue them because I know exactly what my worth is.

I plan to succeed in college by knowing the true measure of success and what it means to be successful. Throughout high school, I placed an enormous amount of pressure on myself to pursue every position and opportunity to value my hard work. I felt that titles and positions would validate who I was as a student, athlete, and person. When I did not receive some opportunities I would label myself and my efforts unsuccessful. I now know that success is so much more than a certificate. To me, success is how you take advantage of a situation that may not go as planned and use it for your good. I plan on attending North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University and majoring in Pre-Law. During my freshman year, I want to maintain a 4.0 GPA and run for Miss Freshman. These goals are not easy to meet but with my worth in mind, I will not pursue them in an attempt to bestow upon me that worth. I understand exceptional grades unlock opportunities but I must achieve an excellent understanding of the material I learn because I want to be truly knowledgeable about key areas needed for my desired career. When running for Miss Freshman I want to personally speak with my peers, ignite passion in others through my views, and become a positive representation for young black girls. If I do gain that understanding of my work and encourage a little girl who looks like me to do whatever she dreams, I will be successful in college. The only way to fail is to lose sight of these objectives and strive for the title alone. I measure my success by the shift I create within myself and others. After my college journey is over I will finally receive my degree which is but a symbol of my determination and perseverance. As a young black woman, this accomplishment is vital to my professional career and opens doors for myself and others who look like me. It is not the physical paper that holds so much importance but my efforts and sacrifice that show I am set apart. So many before me were just as capable of receiving this great honor but were prevented. They were mocked, beaten, and even killed for trying to get an education. With no resources and great risk, they still built me a place to learn so that I could put in the work they did not get the chance to. A degree puts me in a position to lead in a workspace and have ownership. With that ownership, I can uplift others who look like me. Education is the one thing that may never be stripped away. I now have the privilege that so many never will though they were just as deserving. Through their sacrifice, they passed the baton of education to me to sprint to my degree and use it to kick down closed doors and tools of oppression. I will allow others to tightly grab hold of it and uplift us all to higher education and quality life.

Currently, I am an Honors student at Salisbury high school ranking #15 in my class. I am a 2-year member of is National Honors Society, a Junior Civitan Club Member, and a Crosby Scholar. I am the Secretary of the Salisbury Youth Council and the Queen City Chapter of Jack and Jill of America Teen Conference Chair. I was also recently selected as the regional artist of the year for my chapter. This year I became a Varsity cheerleader, captain of the dance team, a Key Club member and a member of the women’s empowerment club at Salisbury High School called Sheros. Throughout high school, I became the President of Salisbury High School’s NAACP Club, a member of the Young Black Leaders Alliance, and a Novant Health Teen Health Connection Board Member. I was also a National American Miss State Finalist. I regularly volunteer at my church by face painting at community events and serving food to church members. I’m also a choir member and a praise dancer.

Kids who struggle and believe they have no future are what inspire me to get involved in my community. Often when groups discuss community service and carry out tasks they seem impersonal. They receive volunteer hours and get nice pictures but I often wonder if they truly feel compelled to fight for the causes they are representing. When I see kids at my school wearing the same clothes and outside of establishments begging for meals, my heart aches. I and others see these people every day, sit in the same classrooms, and inhabit the same town, yet we experience life so differently. This makes me want to make a more personal change. I believe I am someone who possesses immense determination, and drive and has a plan for my young adult life. Many of my peers do not because they do not have the support system needed to motivate them into taking the initiative that I do. As other kids drive brand-new cars into the student parking lot, talk to friends in class, and plan for their future other students are simply trying to make it to the next day. They are out on the street; rain or shine, snow or rain. Children have to sleep in these conditions while others are in warm comfy beds and air-conditioned houses. These circumstances are inflicted rather than directly caused by their own doing and they deserved to be personally cared for. To make a change in my community I joined the Salisbury Youth Council and became the secretary of the organization even as a first-year member. I assist other leaders in community service activities that I feel will help our community but most importantly personally impact those being helped and inspire members to truly connect with those in need. I also joined the Junior Civitan Club, an organization that also focuses on community service and overall good citizenship. When making holiday cards for veterans I write personal notes and messages instead of following the suggested template. When donating clothes, I select clothes of quality or purchase clothes that others may appreciate instead of turning in discarded and worn-down outfits. More importantly, I’m beginning to take matters into my own hands On my own, I volunteer at Rowan Helping Ministries and face paint at community events for Mount Zion Baptist Church. When I serve food I talk to each person who receives a plate and often they confide in me. They express that they normally don’t even get eye contact from those who serve them. When I paint faces, I try to make each person laugh and feel excited about the design they chose. In the halls of my school, I compliment those who seem to be unhappy and watch a smile stretch across their face. I advocate for less fortunate kids and never allow them to be labeled as lazy, dirty, or unintelligent. All they need is a community that believes in them. What makes up a community is people with lives, thoughts, and feelings. When I do work to improve my community I’m sure to keep that in mind to make the most effective change.

When my cousin first moved to town I thought she hated me. One elementary summer I learned that my cousin would be moving to North Carolina from New Jersey, going to my school, and living in my neighborhood. My cousin and I dreamed of this moment for so long never believing it would come to pass. My family spent that summer in New Jersey and when we all came back to North Carolina for the beginning of the school year I decided I would always help her any way I could. When school started things quickly took a turn for the worst. I offered to show her around and she frustratingly declined. She looked right through me when I waved at her in the hallways. After school, I headed to her house to help her unpack and she forbade me from touching anything she owned. I tried talking to her about a boy she liked and she became livid. With her bashful yet frustrated expression, she roared for me to leave her alone. She did not want my help and finally, I was no longer willing to give it. If I wasn’t going to be appreciated I did not want to help anymore. When my mother discovered our argument she disappointingly confronted me. Feeling attacked, I frantically explained my efforts to help my cousin adjust and how I felt rejected by her. She informed me the real reason they moved to town was that my aunt and uncle got divorced. We stayed with them over the summer for comfort, not a vacation. She also had type 1 diabetes and was extremely insecure about taking medicine, giving herself shots and her insulin pump being revealed around new people. My mom reminded me how much I dislike change and how I’m comfortable where I am as she once was in New Jersey. Finally, my mom reassured me that my perspective was understandable but I should try my best to show compassion and help anyway. Later, at my house, my cousin and I went up to my room facing away from each other. My mother’s words swarmed my thoughts, her quotes disrupting each other and the weight of each one pushed down on my heart. The sorrow I felt for my cousin lumped in my throat and began to pump tears out of my eyes. Before I lost all composure and she reacted to the drips falling onto my clothes, I spun around and hugged her. I hugged her as tight as I could with the fear she would push me away, the risk of being laughed at and most of all the regret I had for almost deciding to stop helping anyway. She paused for a moment and with my eyes closed tightly, bracing for the impact I felt her embrace. The shock of this opened my eyes to her teary face. We both sniffled “I’m sorry” accidentally at the same time. We laughed at this and talked for the rest of the evening. It was then I learned helping people isn’t something you do to get the validation of being a good person. Sometimes it will feel like rejection, embarrassment and frustration. Helping has to be for that other person, not yourself. I learned to never be discouraged from showing compassion because someone else may be impacted the most by receiving kindness when they know they were unkind. Those are the acts that heal the wounds within those who may not initially accept help. They will pass on that compassion and always remember how you helped anyway.

I plan on attending A&T State University and majoring in Pre-Law. As a freshman, I plan to receive high honors, maintain a 4.0 and become Miss Freshman. These educational goals will set the tone for the rest of my college experience and shape my professional relationships that will affect my grades. Recently I faced the challenge of remembering who I was as a person in my final year of high school. At one point this year I felt that my senior year failures would soon have a domino effect on the rest of my life. This year I failed at so many things I thought I would easily claim. I fought hard for countless opportunities that I was denied. People who I thought were my friends even rooted for me to fail. As a straight-A, athletic student who has been familiar with my classmates since elementary school, these outcomes shocked me, to say the least. I lost senior class President, and homecoming queen, I stepped down from my dance captain position and quit the team. I asked myself if I can’t be successful in simple things such as these, what will the future look like for me? I felt that I needed these roles and positions to show the fruits of my work from my entire academic career. I began to tell myself I must not have worked hard enough, maybe I was not smart enough or I am just not enough. Soon cheer tryouts were advertised at my school. I automatically dismissed the opportunity due to my discouraging losses and fear of once again falling short in the public eye. I knew that my mother was trying to encourage me to join an extracurricular activity since I ended my journey with the dance team. I called her and told her how I felt about tryouts and how terrified I was about ripping yet another piece of my self-confidence. She reminded me of my years of dance experience, bubbly personality and team members I was already familiar with. It was then that I finally realized that my ability isn’t defined by the titles I receive and failure is only that if you let it be. I tried out for cheerleading and made the varsity team, I became secretary of the Salisbury Youth Council and I won a $5,000 scholarship by a landslide at an oratorical contest and left with almost every trophy possibly for the superlative categories. I also became a state finalist in the National American Miss Pagent. All of these honors would have never been possible if I pursued them for validation of my character and talent as I did before. I almost got to a point where I let my setbacks prevent me from opportunities for further success, which would be the one true form of failure. Even though I did not become class president I made so many friends from the campaign. When I lost homecoming queen almost everyone in attendance complimented my gown, congratulated me, and even invited me to a pageant. Now that I no longer dance, I have sharpened a new skill and gained unforgettable high school experiences and true friends. Those aspects of those moments are what define who I am and how successful I am whether I’m acknowledged or not. I finally overcame the need to pursue opportunities to prove my worth. Now, I pursue them because I know exactly what my worth is.

I chose to attend an HBCU to experience the atmosphere created by my ancestors to empower me within my culture and allow my individuality to thrive. Growing up in the south included harsh opinions about HBCUs. Either they were considered very impactful and influential or mediocre and unqualified. Even my peers selected their schools based on whether it was a PWI or HBCU before deciding on specific institutions to attend. I have decided to attend North Carolina A&T State University. I couldn’t be more excited to finally experience a learning environment where there is no token black student. I can receive an education without having to use my academic success as a tool to gain respect and visibility from non-black peers. For the first time, my peers and I will have a common goal of comradery and education without being mocked for it. For all of these reasons, I couldn’t choose a better institution to enrich my educational, professional, and social endeavors. Just as with all things associated with blackness, many will adopt negative and simply false connotations about HBCUs and refuse to recognize it as racist rhetoric that must be unlearned. Historically Black colleges and universities have bred the marriage of my parents, the education of Oprah Winfrey, and very soon my path of discovery that I couldn’t be more honored to walk. So many sacrifices have been made by my people to create a place free from the discrimination that they endured so I can stand proudly protected from it. Because of their struggle to merely survive I will get the chance to live. At an HBCU I’m not defined by my blackness nor is it measured by my interests, intelligence, or conversation. I chose to attend an HBCU because there, I can finally be myself.

At one point this year I felt that my senior failures would soon have a domino effect on the rest of my life. This year, I fought hard for countless opportunities that I was denied. People who I thought were my friends even rooted for me to fail. As a straight-A, athletic student who has been familiar with my classmates since elementary school, these outcomes shocked me, to say the least. I lost senior class President, homecoming Queen and stepped down from my dance captain position, and quit the team. I asked myself if I can’t be successful in simple things such as these, what will the future look like for me? Throughout all of these trials my family witnessed it all. They always supported me in these endeavors and loved me no matter what. Most importantly my little sister had seen it all, the frustration, the tears, and the burnout. After my homecoming campaign ended I took time to reflect on everything that had happened and how it made me feel to know that I won’t always get everything I think I deserve. I questioned if I lacked, if my peers were envious, or if I just didn’t deserve anything I applied myself to. Soon cheer tryouts were advertised at my school. I didn’t even consider it because of all of my losses. I even talked to my sister about it and nonchalantly addressed the matter. She agreed. She explained she would not even attempt the line leader position in her class, hall monitor, or even student of the week because even if she does everything right she could still walk away with nothing. Hearing such a discouraging attitude from her catapulted me into a pool of realization and concern for my sister. I sat silently for a while then explained as if I was being enlightened as I spoke. I told her that success isn’t defined by the titles you receive and failure is only that if you let it be. Instead of lecturing her, I decided to lead by example. I tried out for cheerleading and made the varsity team, I became secretary of the Salisbury Youth Council and I won a $5,000 scholarship by a landslide at an oratorical contest and left with almost every trophy that I could’ve possibly won there. Through it all my sister saw that I got back up. I waved at her from the bleachers with my pom poms, I winked at her as I repeated my oath at my inauguration as secretary, and she saw the 1st prize medal placed around my neck as I claimed the oratorical contest victory. Those moments showed her if you let setbacks prevent you from opportunities for further success, you have truly accomplished failure. If you regret the pursuit of the positions you lost you will label yourself unsuccessful. Even though I did not become class president I made so many friends from the campaign. When I lost homecoming Queen almost everyone in attendance complimented my gown, congratulated me, and even invited me to a pageant. Now that I no longer dance, I have sharpened a new skill, gained high school experiences, and true friends. Those aspects of those moments are what define who I am and how successful I am whether I am acknowledged or not. My resilience inspired my sister to pursue anything she puts her mind to because if she does her best, knows her worth, and sees the good in all she attempts she knows now she can never truly fail.