I chose to attend an HBCU because I never felt at home in the places I got an education in. I was never able to express myself without question or just be comfortable in my environment. Also, growing up, I rarely ever had doctors of color, which concerned me. Why should I, at the age of ten, have to worry or question if my White doctor would provide less medical attention to me just because I was Black? It never sat well with me, and as I grew older, I knew it was something I wanted to change. As a person of color, I see many other People of Color (POC) who need medical attention but refuse to seek help because of the lack of doctors of color. I want all people to feel safe when attending the doctor and be treated equally despite their skin color. As I progress in my education at my HBCU throughout the years and eventually become a physician, I have told myself that I will continuously be an activist for equality and make a difference for all people. I knew an HBCU would get me to my goal. Black women need to see a better representation of other Black women who are successful and educated, not just celebrities or other famous athletes. The increased representation will promote more people of color to become physicians and help them understand the desperate need for diversity in the medical field. I never want anyone to question their doctors just for their race, but be comfortable no matter who is assisting them. Attending Spelman College was the best decision I made for myself. Spelman graduates successful black female doctors that prioritize helping all people, I want to be a part of those graduating Spelman women.

Growing up, I was not sure how I would express myself. I played sports, enjoyed service work, and loved helping others. I had so many ideas in my head that needed to be expressed on paper. It was in high school that I found art. I did not have high expectations for my artwork, but with the help of my art teacher, I was able to critique my art skills and create great pieces. I attended a Catholic private school that had a hard time including their students of color and this caused a great amount of pain for me as a student. I started to express my feelings through artwork, and create pieces that were centered around African Americans. All of the built-up emotion I had from the racism I faced in school was released once I entered my art class every day. Art became a reliable source that made me feel better and showed my peers and teachers how I felt and what I was capable of. I love art because there are no boundaries when drawing, I knew my style, techniques, and creations were unique and original. I did not expect others to be drawn to my work, the art I created was for myself, but soon my art teacher expressed that my art had deep meanings and there was a soul that lived in my pieces. Black history was not talked about in my school, so I drew it in my artwork. I created many art pieces in high school and still to this day, but the art piece most important to me was a symbol of black excellence that came from breaking chains of past trauma in slavery. This piece includes only some of the African flags that were captivated during slavery. As a black woman, I have seen my family and others in the black community suffer from generational trauma and as a student who was not able to express their opinion or learn about their heritage in the classroom, I chose to draw it on paper. Creating art is an example of freedom, and through this art piece, I wanted to give a strong message. This message stated, no matter what has happened to our ancestors, the black community now has broken the chains and will always remain strong. Whether this is through one's occupation, sport, or talent, there is nothing that can hold the black community back from achieving the excellence that every person has and deserves.

Growing up, I never knew the importance of mental health; no one ever really explained it to me. I finally observed and noted that physical appearance is oftentimes not a proper reflection of someone’s mental state. As a professional athlete, it is something that is rarely taken seriously, I know from dreadful years of experience. As a little girl, I experienced emotional and verbal abuse from my coach. It was something that my teammates and I thought to be normal until it started to show in our performance. My coach did not believe in therapy or medication that could ease my anxiety; he felt it was only my fault that I was an overthinker and that his words got the best of me. My talents as an athlete had the potential to be great a lot sooner, but because of my mental block and illness, I couldn’t excel quickly. I was not seeking the help I deserved, which caused me to hide my emotions. This restraint meant I let all of my feelings build up to 100% and then released them. Sometimes it took me weeks or even months to finally explode, and in many ways, it felt great, but it also made me feel terrible. I have witnessed many athletes who love and dedicate all their time to a sport have their love for it disappear due to their neglected mental health. I believe mental health is beyond essential and should be recognized because when it doesn’t, there are many downfalls. My teammates began to quit, they became depressed, felt unworthy, and a lot of it could have been prevented by the correct mental health resources. I have severe obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), partially due to sports. It made me a perfectionist in every aspect of my life because I always had to be “perfect” when I practiced and competed in Taekwondo. Mental health has made many of my relationships hard to maintain, OCD causes me to expect everything and everyone to be perfect, and I know this is not realistic. Still, I was never given the opportunity or resources to correct this mentality. This mindset is something I want to change through my future career aspirations. As I enter college, my goal is to become a Sports Medicine Orthopedic Surgeon and also to assist those in need of sports therapy. Injuries are prevalent in sports, and along with that can come depression and suicidal thoughts. I had knee surgery last year, keeping me out for eight months. I missed Olympics qualifiers, World Championships, and many other training opportunities, but I was able to fight through it by finding people that could help me mentally. My love for sports and others has caused me to take mental health very seriously. Giving has always been my love language, and I know I can continue to provide by entering the medical field. Unnoticed mental health should not be the reason someone must quit the sport they love so much, and this all can change through increased recognition and education among athletes and sports teams.

“Why do you go here if you aren’t Catholic?” I stopped counting how many times I was asked this. I always responded with,”I came to this Liberal Arts school for an education.” Little did I know, my education would be disrupted due to the racism in my school. I didn’t understand how some Catholic white students that highly valued equality in all of humanity, could also see my skin as inhumane and less-deserving. In high school, the racial comments faculty members and white students would make to black students and I was uncontrollable. I sat in classes waiting for someone to make prejudiced comments, instead of waiting to learn the new lesson. I zoned out, cried, or simply gave up. I couldn’t focus. I was mentally exhausted and it started to show on report cards and emails sent to my mom. The amount of entitled and uneducated students was too high. I rarely told faculty about these problems, because not only did they not do anything, they were part of the issue. I always told my mom what I experienced at school and she would always say, “Your blackness is beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t.” One day I full absorbed her words and decided I wasn’t going to except this mistreatment. I started to handle these problems independently. I began to call out ignorant students and hold them accountable, it worked intermittently. I felt accomplished, but something was missing, the faculty. I have two teachers I trust wholeheartedly, they helped me understand through a white teachers perspective on their discomfort. After George Floyd’s death happened right on my back steps in Minneapolis, Minnesota, I brainstormed. It was my time to make my mark. I wanted change in my school, I met with my principal to show my activism and recommend resources that would help the school. I learned my blackness is beautiful and I taught others to see the same. My school has made progress, my grades remain intact, and my goal is to leave a permanent and successful imprint on my school when I graduate. In the future, I plan to create strong communities where everyone is able to share their experiences and challenges as a POC. I want others to learn that we are all human and we only have each other. I want to give back to other POC in predominantly white schools and create books, clubs, and group discussions to create comfort and stability.