As a queer Hindu Bengali, my identity has always felt like it exists in the margins: barely recognized, often misunderstood, yet resilient. In Bangladesh, a statue of Rabindranath Tagore–the only Bengali Nobel Prize winner and a Hindu poet like myself–was desecrated amidst civil unrest this year, continuing a centuries-old pattern of violence against the Hindu minority. This erasure has followed me across both Western and South Asian communities I've been part of, compounded by my queer identity. Because of this persecution, I've felt pressured to keep my identity at arm's length. Ironically, this cultural dissociation has driven me deeper into Bengali culture's most prominent tradition: poetry. By expressing my being through poetry, I protest to keep my culture alive, to preserve its history, and to ensure its future. For me, creating media–whether it's crafting zines, composing poetry, or drawing political cartoons–is an act of resistance in a world that sometimes seems to deny my existence. In doing so, I make myself and others like me known. I've witnessed the erasure of identities directly impact the people around me. This September, my best friend Ramal went missing after being outed as transgender to his conservative Muslim family. It left an empty gap in my life and reinforced the importance of our shared vision: a world that accepts LGBTQ+ individuals from diverse backgrounds. Coming from low-income communities in New York, Ramal and I understood the financial barriers to accessing gender-affirming care. In his name, I've initiated a fundraiser selling discreet pride merchandise to provide free chest binders for transgender youth. Additionally, I organize Super Secret Queer Club meetings to create safe spaces for closeted individuals alongside public events to educate my greater school community. These experiences have taught me the power of voice in the face of erasure. I am eager to continue my activism through media by exploring poetry's history against marginalization and resistance. I aim to explore the intersections of race, sexuality, and faith by engaging with people from different backgrounds across differences. When the only out transgender freshman in my dorm shared that they wanted to "be like me" someday, I saw the impact of creating environments rooted in empathy. I plan to support marginalized communities through volunteer work, particularly in locations where I can use art to empower youth through local organizations. Building upon my experience as a dorm prefect and activist, I recognize the necessity of leadership and empathy to navigate challenging conversations. In all my future endeavors, I will carve spaces where every identity is allowed to exist.