My interest in pursuing a career in digital marketing and advertising as a Black woman is deeply rooted in a desire to contribute, empower, and reshape narratives in a field where people who look like me been historically underrepresented. The journey has been driven by a potent mix of personal passion, a commitment to breaking barriers, and the belief that digital platforms offer unique opportunities to amplify voices that have long been marginalized. Growing up, I was acutely aware of the disparities in representation, both in the media and the professional world. The lack of diverse voices in marketing and advertising, in particular, stood out to me. This awareness evolved into a passion for challenging the status quo and a determination to be a catalyst for change within the digital marketing sphere. The digital landscape, with its vast reach and potential for inclusivity, became the canvas on which I could paint a different narrative. Digital marketing, with its ability to engage global audiences, presented an opportunity to redefine beauty standards, challenge stereotypes, and create campaigns that resonate with diverse cultures and perspectives. I wanted to be a part of a movement that celebrated diversity, not just as a buzzword but as an intrinsic element woven into the fabric of every campaign. As a black woman in digital marketing, my ideal future job is one that embraces and champions diversity and inclusion. I envision a workplace where my unique perspective is not only acknowledged but celebrated as a valuable asset. This ideal job goes beyond mere representation; it involves actively fostering an environment where different voices are heard, valued, and contribute to the creation of campaigns that reflect the rich tapestry of human experiences. In my ideal role, collaboration is paramount. I see myself working with a team that appreciates the strength derived from diverse backgrounds, where ideas flow freely, and creativity knows no bounds. I aspire to contribute to campaigns that not only resonate with BIPOC communities but also challenge stereotypes, broaden perspectives, and foster understanding across cultures. Furthermore, I am deeply committed to being a mentor and advocate for future generations of BIPOC women entering the digital marketing field. Creating pathways for others, offering mentorship, and actively working towards dismantling barriers are integral components of my vision for an ideal future job. I want to be part of an industry that actively supports and uplifts talent, ensuring that the next generation of professionals encounters fewer obstacles and greater opportunities. In conclusion, my journey into digital marketing as a BIPOC woman is a conscious effort to be a force for positive change. It is a commitment to challenge norms, celebrate diversity, and empower others to do the same. My ideal future job is one where my unique perspective is not only welcomed but essential, where collaboration is fostered, and where I can contribute to campaigns that redefine narratives and pave the way for a more inclusive and representative digital landscape. As the digital marketing industry continues to evolve, I am excited about the prospect of playing a pivotal role in shaping a future where diversity is not just acknowledged but celebrated.

In my community I would like to see social support expanded for college students. On my college campus, at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque a lot of students drop out because they don't feel a part of anything, even with our social supports. I am fortunate to be involved in the African American Student Services on my campus and have leadership in one our of black student organizations, but it is an unfortunate fact that this is not the case for all students on my university's campus. For myself and my peers, the transition from high school to college is a significant shift in our lives, where we have to balance newfound independence and an increase in academic rigor. Without a sense of community and belonging, navigating this period of time becomes more difficult, which leads to a higher likelihood of dropping out. To address this issue and create positive change, expanding and enhancing existing support services on campus is necessary. On my college's campus, our African American Student Services is endanger of being cut as we are not currently receiving enough funding to sustain the center. This past semester, I and many of my peers who see this center as a home away from home, testified to our student government. We explained why a place like The Fro as we call it is so essential, how it helps us to prosper and grow, and provides a safe space for black people of all different types, even in an area with a smaller black community. Mentorship programs would also be incredibly helpful in fostering connections and retaining students in higher education. I was a part of a program in The Fro called BOSS Mentors (Black Overt Student Success) as a mentee this semester. This program helped me to feel more settled into the black community on campus, meet people, and inspired me to stay on track with my studies. In addition to peer mentoring, the staff at the Fro help students to feel truly supported. When you enter this space, you feel as if people there truly care if you succeed. I hope to continue a legacy of supporting each other by serving as BOSS Mentor myself, working as a counselor this summer in our Summer Bridge Program that helps to integrate black first year students to UNM, and continuing to be a representative for our center as a part of our Black Student Association. Making sure that students are informed about the available resources and opportunities for so that students never feel like they are doing college alone. My school has free therapy offered through our resource centers as well as mental health support groups. Resource centers also help to empower students financially, and often provide much needed scholarships as well as additional funding to help students afford college. I have fortunately received a scholarship from the Fro which gave my family and I have peace of mind when it came for paying for school. Many students at the university are the first in their families to go to college, much like my mom was in hers. She had close friends around her that helped her to continue on her educational journey, and everyone needs that support to keep going. These opportunities should be more widely publicized and accessible so that all students can see the benefits. Through expanding social support, the college experience can become a period of growth, connection, and shared achievement for all students, and the opportunity to thrive academically and personally will become much more of a reality.

My mom, her siblings, and her parents all moved to New York, into an apartment on Flatbush. My dad, after finishing Ghanaian high school, studied in England, until he reconnected with an old friend, my mom. Then the story goes they fell in love, got married, had me, then my little brother. Texas became the land I was born and bred in as the eldest daughter and a first-generation Ghanaian American immigrant. Being the first in an African household certainly carries a whole lot of pressure, but it also made me the strong, self-sufficient, and appreciative person I am today. Every week of elementary school my mom drilled me on my spelling words and my dad sighed as I cried through my arithmetic equations. At that time, it was an incredibly painful process, but it taught me to thrive under pressure. Further, it instilled in me the very basics of hard work and persistence from an early age, which are skills I now recognize as ones you need to accomplish anything in life. My parents imparted a lot of wisdom to us kids, but the most important things they ever told us were stories about Ghana. Stories about secondary school antics, first loves, delicious chop bar meals and family. Stories about Kwame Nkrumah, Ghanaian independence, and the Akan tribe: the Ashanti, Denkyira, Akuapem, and Larteh members of our bloodline. These stories serve as a reminder that I am the descendant of resilient people and because of this I can get through any obstacle. I think my ancestors would be proud to know that their granddaughter emulated their perseverance and is going to an American university. In my life, I hope to honor my forebearers by continuing to make them proud.

At one point I wanted to be a dancer or an actress. I felt that this would be my ultimate contribution to the world, utilizing my ability to story-tell to bring people together with art. At another time, I believed I would be a medical microbiologist or immunologist. I would research and develop cures for diseases that cause tragic losses of our loved ones. My desire to change the world has always been based on my own experiences. Whether this was bringing people together, from all backgrounds, something I first saw in my theater class or eradicating diseases that have affected too many of my family members and friends. In this way, I think we have those experiences we do for a reason, they lead us to our purpose in life. For, I believe that purpose can be found in political science. I was eventually led to political science, a study that would allow me to work with and better understand people as well as build connections. It is a field that my experiences as a black woman in America could help to make policy that represents marginalized people who have historically been not regarded in policy-making decisions. My first experience with the political “real world" was an internship with a civic organization, following my freshman year in high school. We lived in a volatile political climate and a contentious situation with the COVID-19 pandemic, and I had an interest in politics, derived from debates that I had in history classes with fellow students. More significantly, I saw how more and more young people were becoming apolitical because they didn't think their government did anything for them. I would go on to engage politically in a variety of different ways, but I was still left with a desire to find why young people didn’t believe in government. And find a way to do something about this. Political science provides for a very interesting study of the world. It incorporates historical events, how cultures past have functioned, and why people live where and how they live with the lens of how they contribute to our current political climate and social organization. It discusses who holds political power, and who as a result gets to make decisions about business, healthcare, education, housing, and even how elections work. Every aspect of any decision made in the modern world is controlled by politics, so understanding it and being a part of it is an ability to affect change. It provides us insight into why we live the way we do, why poverty is increasingly cyclical, why racial tensions exist—and it doesn’t just teach you, it implores you to have discussions about what you learn. It helps us to understand why fear and fear-mongering towards groups of people exist and how this can be dismantled. There have been many political decisions that I think if the people who would be most affected by it were in the room, a compromise that serves the people affected could have been reached. If we just took time to have those conversations, we could make policy that serves more people. In political science, my views will be challenged and I will challenge the views of others. I will be able to better contextualize the world we live in and change it. Change it so the voices of people from all different walks of life are heard. Change it so information and powerful knowledge regarding individual rights are accessible to all. Change it so everyone knows their vote counts. Because when we are all represented, democracy truly works.

I've never been a brilliant dancer. I've never been the girl on the silver screen, dancing for TV like Nadine. But I've always been dancing. Not because I'm exceptionally good at it, not because I always look great doing it, but because it brings me joy that little else can. I've been dancing through life, but not always well. I've been dancing through life, and as you can foretell, I've grown up with dancing. I grew up in wooden studios. I grew up with counts of 1, 2, 3. I grew up wanting so badly to have a principal role, to be given importance in dance. I grew up wishing to be the best I've been dancing through life, but not always well. I've been dancing through life, and as you can foretell, I've grown up with dancing. I don't think I ever was the best. Even when it was easier to be so. I don't think I ever worked hard at it, I usually work hard, and I usually put everything I have into what I do, but I've never done such a thing with dance. Maybe I am afraid of putting everything into something I love so much and still not being good enough, maybe I am afraid the best will only lead to more critique and will lead to me potentially disliking something I care for so much, maybe I'm afraid that my joy of dance comes from doing it only for leisure. But I suppose I wouldn't know until I tried, but I suppose I can close myself off from the wonderful and truly blissful experiences that I could have, but I suppose I shouldn’t deny myself future joy. I've been dancing through life, but not always well. I've been dancing through life, and as you can foretell, I want to really dance in it now.

In my community and this country, an issue I have observed is conflict about the content of public education and the lack of student voice in these discussions. Often debates will arise, especially between parents, over what is appropriate to be discussed in American schools. While there is some information that would be irrelevant to cover in an educational environment, there is content being censored that helps students to better contextualize their world and I would like this to cease occurring. I think much of this conflict would be alleviated if actual students were in the room when these decisions were made. One way that unnecessary censorship of students’ learning material, especially at the secondary level, could be alleviated would be for conversations to be had with different members of the community, especially the students being affected. One thing that I worked on a lot last year was a committee for students’ voices in my school district in which we strived to do just that. These conversations have been replicated across the country and could continue to be until they are commonplace in school districts across the United States. By having intergenerational and meaningful conversations, we can start to approach the issue, looking beyond the surface. To follow up on these conversations and make positive changes, next action is necessary. What I would like to work to implement is access to resources for students to critically think and process information. Whether this is a course students are required to take or an abundance of information available to students in their humanities courses and the library. When it is time for us students to graduate, and even when we go on the internet, we are confronted with so much information that we must synthesize and make sense of. Equipping students with the ability to discern which information is worth listening to rather than trying to eliminate material because it could be potentially controversial will increase the autonomy we as students feel and prepare us better for the rest of our lives. The ability to critically think is a skill highly requested by colleges and employers, and if we could elevate and empower student voices in the process, wouldn’t that be great? Furthermore, student voices can make a difference in this issue, but also more broadly. As people living through American public education, we have a wealth of information to offer about the state of it. We can help suggest changes and change policies that will serve the interests of us young people, and being included in these conversations can encourage us to get further involved. In a state such as mine (Texas), where classroom censorship is common, if we were consulted in policy, we might have suggested less extreme ways that parents could monitor their children’s education. We might have suggestions that would help de-escalate the current state of public education, in which it often seems educators are at odds with parents. Rather than working against each other, our community members could all be working together for the benefit of the future of this country, us.