Incarceration has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My dad was in jail for most of my childhood, and my uncle spent years in and out of the system as well. Even though I wasn’t the one behind bars, their absence shaped my life in ways that were impossible to ignore. It affected my family emotionally and financially, and it created a sense of instability that followed me through different homes, different schools, and different stages of growing up. As a child, I didn’t always understand the full picture — I just knew that the people I loved weren’t there. As I got older, I began to see how incarceration impacts entire families, not just the individual. I learned what it feels like to carry responsibility early, to adapt quickly, and to navigate life with unanswered questions. But I also learned empathy. I learned that people are more than their mistakes, and that cycles of incarceration often come from deeper issues like trauma, lack of support, and limited opportunities. These experiences are a major reason I’m pursuing psychology and criminal justice at Texas State University. Instead of letting my past make me bitter, it pushed me toward wanting to understand people — especially those who feel overlooked or written off. I’m working toward a career in **correctional counseling** because I want to be part of the solution. I want to help people rebuild their lives, develop healthier coping skills, and break the cycles that affected my own family. Academically, my background motivates me to stay focused and committed. As a first‑generation college student, I’m determined to create a different future for myself and for the people I’ll eventually serve. My experiences taught me resilience, compassion, and the importance of rehabilitation over punishment. They shaped not only who I am, but the kind of professional I want to become. Incarceration impacted my life deeply, but it also gave me purpose. It taught me that change is possible, and I want to dedicate my career to helping others find that same possibility.

Growing up as an African American female in the United States, my perception of law enforcement has been formed through my own experiences and the narrative carried through generations within my community. The history of African Americans and the police is deep and complex, one of injustice, inequality, and violence. The majority of people within my community, as well as myself, have strong mistrust towards the police. But I do feel that there can be a change if police departments actually wish to repair their image with the African American community. The initial step towards repairing relations with the African American community is to listen to us. We have felt marginalized and neglected by law enforcement for years now. The majority of us are unfairly treated, simply because of the color of our skin. When we get news of Black men and women shot or hurt while coping with the police, it makes us even more fearful and suspicious. We don't show disrespect to the law, but to us, it appears that the police look at us as suspects before they see us as human beings. If the police actually want to improve, they need to speak to individuals like me, learn our lived experience and what makes us feel as we do. Community policing is one means of beginning that process of trust. It's about the officers building relationships with the community in between the incidents of policing. Officers must take the time to get to know the neighborhoods they patrol—going to neighborhood events, visiting schools, and sitting down with community leaders. By seeing us in non-enforcement settings, officers can begin to overcome the barriers that cause us so frequently to view them as antagonist forces rather than allies. When police show a concern for our community and for our problems, it can create a change of attitude on our part. Accountability is also crucial. Time and time again, we’ve seen instances of police misconduct. Officers are not held accountable for their actions. Without consequences, it becomes hard to trust that law enforcement will change or improve. Law enforcement agencies need independent civilian review boards that investigate complaints and ensure that officers are held responsible when they misuse their power. Without actual accountability, it's difficult for any relationship to develop, especially when the community is held in a state of constant fear. Also, police need to confront the institutional issues of policing. The racial profiling and over-policing of Black communities are among the reasons for the distrust. When police arrest or stop Black people simply because of their race, it solidifies in our minds that we are all suspects. Police officers need to be trained in bias reduction and cultural competency so that they know the communities they work for. This can lead to better, more respectful interactions, especially with youth like me who are already scared and nervous during police interactions. Finally, police must focus on investing in community solutions. These issues driving crime, such as poverty, joblessness, and poor education, disproportionately affect African American communities. By investing in initiatives that deal with these root causes, police can prevent crime and foster improved relations with the community. When communities are empowered and assisted, they're less likely to resort to crime, and tensions between police and citizens can lessen. In short, building the trust between law enforcement and the African American community requires a commitment to listening, holding officers accountable, addressing systemic issues, and investing in the community. If law enforcement can accomplish these, we can begin to rebuild and move toward a safer, more equitable future for all.

For most of my life, I have watched my mother struggle under the weight of raising two children alone after she and my father separated. Overnight, her dreams of a stable family life were shattered, leaving her to navigate a harsh reality. With no financial support from my father, she had to rely on government assistance like food stamps and health insurance just to keep us fed and cared for. Those programs were our lifeline, but even with their help, we were barely getting by. I remember her spiraling into depression when I was younger. Her weight plummeted, her once-warm smile faded, and her eyes grew hollow from sleepless nights spent worrying about how to keep us afloat. Despite her pain, she never stopped trying. She put on a brave face, desperately seeking ways to provide for us, even when her body and mind were exhausted. Her high school diploma offered little opportunity, forcing her into low-paying, demanding jobs that barely covered the essentials. When the bills piled up higher than her paycheck, she had to rely on her sister for financial support. Each call for help chipped away at her pride, but her love for us outweighed her discomfort. Her desperation grew so deep that we had to move in with her mother—my grandmother—just to have a roof over our heads. It was a crowded, uncomfortable situation, but there was no other option. Seeing her struggle pushed me to step up. As soon as I was old enough, I got a part-time job to pay for my own school clothes, supplies, and even a single pair of shoes that had to last the entire year. I learned to stretch every dollar, planning purchases carefully because I knew she couldn’t afford to help. What broke my heart most was when she had to borrow money from me just to get by until her next paycheck. Even though she always paid me back, the shame in her eyes was impossible to miss. Despite everything, my mother never gave up. She showed me that resilience isn’t just about surviving—it’s about fighting back, even when the world feels stacked against you. Watching her push through her pain to provide for us taught me more about courage and perseverance than words ever could. Her strength became my inspiration, her sacrifices a constant reminder of what love truly looks like. Now, as I work to build my future, I carry her lessons with me. I know that life can be unforgiving, but I also know that determination and resilience can push you past even the most impossible obstacles. My mother’s story is one of strength, sacrifice, and relentless hope. And because of her, I am driven to make sure that everything she went through was not in vain.