I often fall victim to comparing myself to others and telling myself that I'm not doing enough, but it turns out I'm doing exactly what I need to be. This past semester, I was attending a conference on campus for leaders in HBCU newsrooms when a professor came up to me and said how much she admires the work that I do and the stories I produce. This took me aback because I had never taken one of her classes, nor had we ever spoken to one another before, but this moment meant so much to me because it meant that I was doing something right. Out of the blue, someone who I didn't even know if they knew I existed complimented me on some of the work that I'm most proud of and whenever I need a pick-me-up, that is the moment that I think of. Although a rather recent memory from a few months ago, since then I have gained more confidence in displaying my work and have gotten better at actually accepting compliments and praise from others. I will eventually have this professor later on as she teaches the capstone class for journalism majors, so I'm glad I've already made a good impression but I'm ready to put in the work to stand out even more.

I chose to attend an HBCU, Howard University, because I knew that I would not be able to thrive in any other academic institution. Although my high school was diverse, I never saw any of that. I was in the band program for four years and I could count on one hand how many Black people were in the program, including my brother and I. I was in all honors and AP courses throughout high school and there was never another Black person in those classes, and very rarely would there be another person of color. I succeeded in high school because I knew that I was the only representation that the younger Black kids in my school district had. I worked hard in hopes that they would not have to work as hard to be seen, acknowledged, and appreciated. Now that I am at an HBCU, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. No longer do I have to be actively aware of my Blackness and how everyone else perceives me. My whole life, I always felt like I was competing with my peers, but that is no longer the case. My experience at Howard has been nothing but supportive. Students cheer for other students regardless of whether they know them or not. Everyone talks about how familial an HBCU is and that is one truth that will stick with me forever--it is because of my HBCU that I have found my family.

So many of today's youth are being failed by the juvenile justice system as it stands and operates today and in every aspect of my career, I want to change that. Too many youth, especially youth of color, do not have access to the necessary resources to thrive and succeed. Sometimes this is due to a lack of funds, but many times it is also due to a lack of knowledge. I have been doing youth advocacy work since I was a sophomore in high school as a founder of the Student Equity Advisory Council. I have spoken to my county and state's Juvenile Justice Council, and I even became the youngest member of the Coalition for Juvenile Justice's Emerging Leaders Committee (ELC). While I do not have any lived experience, as a Black person in America, many of my peers and family members have been impacted by the system. I grew up with extreme biases because, from an early age, I was told I better not find myself hanging out with the wrong crowd--namely those who were getting in trouble at school, and especially those getting in trouble with the law. In that sense, I was very sheltered but when I started working with the ELC and currently incarcerated youth my entire perspective changed. These were some of the most intelligent, well-rounded, and passionate individuals I had ever met. They have taught me so much, and something I will always remember is when one told me my presence means everything. He told me that because I was carrying their voices into rooms that they could not stand in, I was doing everything and more. This truly meant a lot because, in the world of advocacy, positive outcomes can seem far and few but this conversation affirmed that I was having a true impact. Although I am not pursuing a career in criminal justice or a related area, youth advocacy and juvenile justice work will always be part of my career. One day I would love to create a youth nonprofit organization. It will emphasize self-advocacy, mentorship, and the pursuit of education. I hope to provide programming and resources to all marginalized youth so that they can succeed in ways they may have never thought possible. I additionally want to provide resources for community members because I strongly believe that if youth are not receiving external enforcement from those who see them every day, then they are less likely to achieve their full potential. Most families want what is best for their children, but a lot of times they just do not know how to help support their dreams, and I want to change that. It shouldn't be scary to ask for help and my nonprofit will help dismantle all of the myths floating around in marginalized communities. I also want to pursue investigative journalism that focuses on corruption and emphasizes community building and local accountability work. This ties right into my nonprofit because I want to be able to go into communities, report on the problems that they are facing, and then help them fix them. It would be unethical for me to do anything less than that, and I would be restricting other communities from learning different methods to also better their spaces. Reforming the juvenile justice system, that takes so many of our youth hostage, must start in the places youth are brought up. With my investigative journalism and nonprofit, I will help educate others and give access to resources to youth and their communities so that they can change the world for the better.

Everyone asks this question, but given the state of things maybe they can't. We want to foster and environment where everyone feels as if they belong, but it's impossible because in the spaces and communities where one is "supposed" to feel supported, they don't because of intersectionality. If a black queer individual were to express their queerness to their family, they have a good chance of being shamed and disowned due to the deeply rooted homophobia in black culture. Then, if that same person were to go to a queer space, they'll most likely be faced with racism and microaggressions because even though black trans women were the the first queer advocates, the community has been overrun by mainly white gay males who have stolen from the black culture and refuse to acknowledge true queer history. So, for organizations and schools to create truly diverse and equitable community, they have to break down the community and rip it from its roots. That may mean figuring out what communities lie within their population and separating individuals into as fitting groups as possible on a small scale. From there, finding public representation that not only can go around sharing their identities with other groups, but also can act as a role model and important figure to those who they are similar to. Everyone says representation matters, but no one ever does anything about it. I have been in my school district since 1st grade, almost 12 years, and my high school alone has almost 4,000 students, yet I can name only two black educators. The school does not have a small black population, as in many scenarios, we are a minority, but we are not the minority; and the problem with these statements, the reason why I even have to mention that no one ever does anything about representation, especially in school, is because organizations expect the representation to come to them. With that kind of thinking, it shows how much ignorance is around us. To foster a truly diverse and equitable community, the representation that everyone so desperately needs and deserves, must be sought out. Organizations need to look into the demographics of their current employees and see where they are lacking. They need to take risks and hire the person of color who will need a little extra training and support over the non-person of color who is perfectly qualified because perfection is a figment of our imagination and those of us with set-back after set-back deserve our chance. Schools need to actively seek out teachers of color. The staff needs to represent the student body, and for this purpose, staff = teachers. Just because all of the people that are in positions of service (cafeteria workers, security, custodians, etc.) are people of color, that does not equate to try diversity because these are not the individuals that students are regularly interacting with for multiple hours every week. If the student body has 20 percent Hispanic students and 12 percent black students, then the teachers should 25 percent Hispanic and 15 percent black because students of color should not be the only ones with teachers of colors. For true equity, everyone needs to have access to interact with and work with individuals that do not look like them, act like them, behave like them, or even live like them.

As a freshman when schools were first closed due to the COVID-19 pandemic, I did not know what to expect. I was in the midst of studying for my first AP Exam, I was preparing for band concerts, and I was still just trying to survive my first year in a new academic environment with new individuals, and new expectations. Finishing off that second semester with a little over two months to go, I thought I was fine. My grades were still A’s, no one in my family was sick, and I was fine with an extended break as I am a true introvert at heart. But reflecting back on that time, I realized that I was indeed slipping through the cracks. My academics were fine, but only by default. I did not go to every single one of the additional Zoom meetings that I probably should have. I did not complete all my assignments to the best of my ability because they were graded on completion. I did not put in as much effort as I had been known to put in ever since the fifth grade. The cause was: my mental health struggles that everyone had previously dismissed. Moving on to sophomore year, starting the year off completely virtual, everyone was under the impression that any type of mental health struggle was a result of the pandemic. Yes, it added to the stress, but by learning at home, working at my own pace, and being in the comfort of my favorite flannel pajamas, I was thriving. Maybe not mentally, but indeed academically. I was able to maintain my academic intensity because my sophomore year was the first year that I personally reached out for help, and told someone exactly what I needed. I talked to many counselors and many therapists, and I was able to find routines and outlets that worked for me. I was able to discover my personal perfect balance of academics, social life, and self-care. Now as a junior I continue to learn about myself as I navigate what seems to be a never-ending pandemic. I realized that unless articulated, I will always be the only one who knows what I want and need so that I can succeed. So by learning who I am, I am preparing for “college life” so I can determine what exactly I need to do to continue to thrive. I am continuing on my never-ending self-discovery journey so that the next time I change environments, the next time I come across the unexpected, the next time I need additional guidance, I will know how to succeed and be my best self.