The most impactful “movie” in my life is not a movie at all, but the series The Bear. What draws me to it is not just the chaos of the kitchen, but the quiet, internal battles each character faces. Sydney, one of the protagonists, resonates with me the most. She is driven, passionate, and constantly questioning whether she made the right decisions while navigating pressure from family, instability, and her own expectations. In many ways, her story feels like mine. I have often struggled with choosing between who I am and who others expect me to be. Growing up, I felt pressure to fit a certain mold, especially as a Black girl. I hid my love for rock music, K-pop, and film analysis because they did not fit what people thought I should like. Over time, I started living for approval instead of authenticity. I even considered pursuing a “safe” career path, not because it fulfilled me, but because it felt acceptable. That internal conflict followed me into major life decisions. When it came time to choose a college, my mother wanted me to attend an HBCU. While I understood her reasoning, I knew it was not the right fit for me. Choosing to attend the University of San Francisco was the first major decision I made entirely for myself. Like Sydney, I had to accept the uncertainty that came with that choice. But I also realized something important: it is easier to face the consequences of your decisions when they are truly yours. My journey toward self-definition deepened during one of the most difficult times in my life. After the Eaton Fire, my family and I experienced homelessness. Losing my home in thirty minutes forced me to confront instability, fear, and the reality of being treated differently because of my circumstances. At the same time, I was navigating my role on the Pasadena Rose Court, a space where I already felt out of place. Surrounded by expectations, I questioned whether I belonged. That doubt showed up again in how I presented myself. There were subtle pressures to conform to a certain image of beauty. When I wore my hair straight, I received more approval. It would have been easy to continue that pattern, to make myself more “acceptable.” Instead, I chose to show up as my full self. I wore my braids with baby hairs, knowing that decision challenged expectations. It was not just about appearance. It was about refusing to shrink myself to fit into spaces I had already earned. Watching Sydney push through doubt in The Bear helped me understand that uncertainty does not mean you are on the wrong path. It means you are growing into something new. That perspective shaped both my personal identity and my future goals. I plan to pursue mental health services as a career, becoming a therapist who supports individuals through instability and self-doubt. At the same time, I want to continue exploring film as a creative outlet. Film allows me to tell stories that reflect real experiences, especially for those who feel unseen. Representation matters, and I want to create work that challenges expectations and expands understanding. Like Sydney, I am still figuring things out. But I am no longer afraid of that uncertainty. Being bold enough to choose my own path has shown me that growth comes from trusting myself, even when the outcome is unknown.

I used to see the world like a movie, studying the lighting in a classroom, the pauses in people’s voices, and the meaning behind silence. But no matter how closely I observed everyone else, I could never figure out the role I was supposed to play. Growing up, I felt like I did not fit the expectations placed on me as a Black girl. I loved rock music, danced to K-pop, and spent hours watching films, analyzing their deeper meaning. Those interests stayed hidden behind low volume and dimmed screens because sharing them often led to confusion or judgment. Over time, I began to suppress parts of myself and replace them with what felt more acceptable. I followed trends, listened to what everyone else listened to, and slowly distanced myself from who I was. After years of doing that, I started to lose direction. I even convinced myself to pursue nursing instead of film because it felt safer, more stable, and more accepted. That mindset followed me into the Pasadena Rose Court selection process. I expected to be evaluated on how well I could represent an ideal image, but instead, I was asked to show who I was at my core. The problem was, I had spent so much time conforming that I no longer knew how to answer that honestly. Preparing for those interviews forced me to reflect and reconnect with myself in a way I had avoided for years. When I was selected as one of seven out of over 400 candidates, I still felt out of place. I compared myself to the other girls and questioned whether I belonged. I told myself I was not wealthy enough, not accomplished enough, and too different to stand in that space. But the more I sat with those thoughts, the more I realized something important. My differences were not weaknesses. They were the very reason I was there. That realization was tested when it came to my appearance. There were clear, unspoken expectations about what beauty should look like. When I wore my hair straight, I received praise and encouragement to present that look during major events. It would have been easy to conform, to present a version of myself that felt more acceptable. Instead, I made a conscious decision to show up as I truly am. I wore my braids with baby hairs, knowing that choice challenged traditional standards. Saying no to those expectations was not loud or dramatic, but it was intentional. It was a refusal to shrink myself to fit into a space that I had already earned. Standing in front of millions while representing my community, I chose authenticity over approval. That moment changed how I see myself. I am no longer trying to fit into a role written by others. I am creating my own. It also reaffirmed my passion for film. I have always believed that images carry meaning, and now I understand the power behind choosing what those images represent. I want to create stories that reflect people as they are, not as they are expected to be. Being boldly and unapologetically myself is no longer something I hide. It is something I lead with.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” is a question I have been asked countless times. My answer often surprises people. I say I want to be rich. They laugh, unsure if I am serious, but I am. To me, wealth is not about status or luxury. It is about the ability to create change, restore dignity, and provide opportunities for people who have been overlooked. This belief comes from personal experience. This past year, I experienced homelessness after being displaced by the Eaton Fire. In just thirty minutes, the home I had lived in for sixteen years was gone. I did not just lose a house. I lost my neighborhood, my sense of stability, and the place that shaped who I am. Suddenly, my family and I were driving for hours searching for somewhere safe to go, only to be turned away from hotels that claimed to accept FEMA vouchers. We were given expired food, worn clothing, and basic necessities that made us feel like we were less deserving. That experience forced me to confront a harsh reality: when people perceive you as impoverished, they often treat you with less respect. What affected me most was realizing that my situation was temporary, but for many others, it is not. There are people who endure this treatment for years. Reflecting on my own past, I recognized how normalized this behavior can be. When I was younger, my family once gave leftovers to a homeless man. At the time, I believed it was a kind gesture. Now, I understand that kindness without dignity is incomplete. No one deserves to feel like an afterthought. These experiences shaped my purpose. I plan to attend the University of San Francisco to major in sociology with a minor in psychology. After earning my master’s degree in psychology with a focus on social psychology, I intend to pursue a doctorate in counseling and become a licensed therapist. My goal is to support individuals, especially those facing homelessness, who are often unheard and underserved. Beyond my career, I am working toward something larger. I want to open a humanitarian center that provides housing, home-cooked meals, financial literacy education, mental health counseling, and job opportunities. I aim to partner with organizations to help individuals regain stability and rebuild their lives with dignity. This center will not just provide resources. It will provide respect. My experiences have also pushed me to seek opportunities that allow me to make an impact now. As a member of the Pasadena Tournament of Roses 2026 Rose Court, I am building connections with individuals who are committed to service and change. These relationships are an important step toward turning my vision into reality. I firmly believe that “homeless does not mean worthless.” Every person deserves quality, respect, and opportunity, regardless of their circumstances. When I say I want to be rich, I mean that I want the resources to give others the life they deserve. My goal is not just to succeed for myself, but to create lasting change for those who need it most.