The musical Hamilton, may have been what lit my fuse. In my 11 year old mind, Alexander Hamilton stood out as a heroic revolutionary – an immigrant, orphan, and neophyte. He was resented for his brashness and bold approach creating the foundation of the United States. But he kept persevering and proving that he belonged. I see myself in Hamilton. Unlike him, I have been given the tools to work hard and thrive in my environment. Even with those tools, our struggles align. Watching Hamilton approach his dreams and master his hurdles with an unapologetic zeal inspired me to stop doubting myself, even in situations where I stood out like a sore thumb. I have often found myself in the position of being the only one. The only girl on a boy’s soccer team. The only person of color in my class. The only person my age working for a political campaign. That solitude and being counted out because I am an ‘other’ was something that felt suffocating. I’ve never had the privilege of living in a diverse community, and I find that a lot of my peers don’t view their world outside of their personal bubble. While I’ve been moved by struggles across the world spanning from genocide to social justice, my peers' greatest concerns are boating and the newest Taylor Swift release. With change as my motivation, I made it my goal to enter restricted spaces, leaving my mark, and making my young voice heard. I attend the top-ranking academic high school in South Carolina. It’s a school that, while strong academically, is fraught with controversy due to its student body. Our school has been written about in our local newspaper for having issues with bringing in minority students. This fight has been met with resistance from parents, teachers, and administrators alike. The argument waged is that diversity will hurt our test scores. That is the space I walked into when I was accepted to enroll as a Freshman. I had to choose between my comfort and my ambition. It was an honor that I turned into an obligation to make a change. I met with administrators, I created a Parent-Student Association for my school, I invited the Mayor to come speak, and I became the President of our school’s Black Student Alliance. I came in to make a difference because with progress must come change. Hamilton made me realize that the heart of change often lies in politics. At the age of 16, I volunteered with a local campaign. Walking into one of the first meetings, all heads turned towards me. I was told that my presence was special because there were so few like me. The room was occupied by older individuals with perspectives rooted in the complexities that shape the world. Their voices carried more weight than my own. Despite my intimidation, I felt at home. Although I stood out, I knew I belonged in a space where I could make an impact. I only wished this room was more attainable to others like me. The term “a seat at the table” is used when describing our ability to influence events. As I enter this pivotal phase of my life, I understand this phrase’s importance. These seats represent possibilities and endless opportunities. These rooms can give power to the voiceless and strength to the oppressed. My path ahead is emblazoned with the mission to make these glass-ceilinged spaces more attainable. Because glass ceilings are meant to be broken. With the tools of my education and life experience, I will create the room where it happens.

In the chaotic year of 2020, I found myself confined to my home, endlessly scrolling through posts, each telling the story of an innocent Black victim who was betrayed by a system that was meant to protect them. Although each story appeared to be unique, they were scarily similar. Whether it was a young Black boy walking home with a toy gun, a Black man shopping, or even a Black woman sleeping in her own home, each story ended with them being brutally murdered by the police. This pattern has become dangerously common. Not only has it hardened a form of systemic oppression against African Americans, but it has further eroded the trust that Black Americans had in law enforcement agencies. To improve the relationship between police agencies and African American communities, there must be a plan that incorporates mental health agencies and promotes de-escalation within their program. In 2019, a 23-year-old Black man, Elijah McClain, was arrested and killed for "looking suspicious" during his walk home. He was restrained and pinned to the ground, in which he vomited several times. Paramedics were called to the scene and they injected Elijah with twice as much ketamine than his body could handle. He died a few days later through a combination of factors. Elijah had previously struggled with his mental health, which played a large role in his interaction with the officers. They approached Elijah without the nuance of dealing with someone who may have mental health issues, which was aggressive and confrontational. They could have benefited from a softer and more conversational interaction. Law enforcement agencies' perceived notion of Black Americans is strictly fueled by racial stereotypes assuming violent behavior. There has been a long history of an "us" vs. "them" within the Black community, so the relationship has never been strong. This cycle has continued since time immemorial. A crucial step to improving the relationship between African Americans and law enforcement agencies is training that promotes de-escalation rather than immediate force. This would give Black individuals the ability to communicate with the officer. Once they look past stereotypes that dehumanize the community members they serve, they will be viewed through the prism of a person rather than a criminal first. This method also helps lower the chances of physical confrontations that result in injury or death. It shifts the goal from arrest to assessment. Law enforcement agencies should also incorporate mental health agencies into their program and training. Initiatives like the BlueShield of South Carolina Foundation have created the Mental Health and Law Enforcement Alliance Project. This project lets those in a manic state call a mental health representative, who may accompany an officer. This allows the individual to receive adequate assistance while in that condition. The realities of racism targeted towards African Americans have created unique challenges within society, whether that be through health care, job marketing, and particularly public safety. So it is important to address this life-or-death threat. By addressing and reforming these issues, law enforcement can begin to build further trust with the African American community. Expanding mental health agencies and de-escalation techniques is a promising step toward reform. This approach can help change attitudes, reducing people's immediate defensiveness with police interactions. Building bridges within the community is an ultimate step that gives them the ability to forge trust with those who officers are meant to protect and serve.