If I could change anything in education, I would completely reimagine the way we define success in the classroom. I would tear down the one-size-fits-all system that pushes students into the same boxes, labels them by test scores, and forgets that every child walks into a classroom with a different story, a different brain, and a different heartbeat. Instead, I would rebuild education on the foundation of empathy, individuality, and belonging, because I believe that’s how we change lives. My perspective didn’t come from a textbook. It came from real life, from being raised by a single mom who did it all with very little, and from being the only girl in a family full of boys. Three older brothers. Two younger. All chaos, all the time. I was the built-in babysitter, the peacekeeper, the second mom. While other kids were going to sleepovers, I was making bottles and helping with bedtime routines. It wasn’t always easy, but it taught me how to lead with love, how to listen, and how to balance real responsibility with my own dreams. In a household like mine, you grow up fast. You also learn that not everyone learns or communicates the same way. My brothers were five completely different types of learners, and no two needed the same kind of help. That’s when I realized, if so many learning styles can exist in just one family, imagine the diversity of needs in a classroom of 25 or 30. And yet, schools often expect students to move at the same pace, complete the same assignments, and demonstrate success in the same narrow ways. That’s not just unfair, it’s ineffective. Later, I studied abroad in China and attended predominantly white schools, often feeling like I was living in someone else’s world. As a mixed Black woman with mostly white family members, I didn’t always feel connected to my culture. I often felt like the “only” in every room, the only Black girl, the only person with my perspective, the only one who had to explain herself just to be understood. That kind of isolation can silence a person before they even have the chance to speak. But everything changed when I chose to attend an HBCU. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t the “only.” I was surrounded by people who looked like me, laughed like me, and understood things without me having to explain. I found my tribe. I found my confidence. And most of all, I found clarity about who I wanted to become: a teacher who sees the whole child, not just the part that fits on a scantron. If I could make one major change in education, I would implement required empathy education at every grade level, from kindergarten through college. Empathy is a skill, just like reading or math. It can be taught, practiced, and refined. And yet, most schools treat it like an optional trait. I believe empathy should be at the core of every school’s culture because when students learn how to understand and respect each other’s experiences, it transforms the way they learn and live. Empathy doesn’t just make kids “nicer.” It helps them collaborate, manage conflict, and build meaningful relationships. When you teach a child to think beyond themselves, you’re not just preparing them to pass a test, you’re preparing them to lead, to love, and to make their communities stronger. But empathy isn’t enough if the system itself is broken. So in my dream school, we would also redesign how we teach. No more one-size-fits-all instruction. Instead, we’d embrace multiple teaching styles: visual learning, hands-on activities, group work, storytelling, independent exploration, and more. Teachers would be trained not just in content, but in how to identify and support different learning styles. Students wouldn’t be expected to fit a mold, they’d be expected to grow in their own unique way. Progress would be measured by actual growth, not just a test score. Success would look like confidence, creativity, and curiosity, not just straight As. In my school, students would be celebrated not for how fast they finish, but for how far they’ve come. I also believe deeply in the need for trauma-informed classrooms and culturally responsive teaching. Too many kids walk into school carrying invisible baggage—stress, grief, fear—and it affects everything they do. If educators are not equipped to understand what’s really going on behind a child’s behavior or silence, we risk missing their potential altogether. Eventually, I plan to pursue my master’s degree and step into leadership. I want to become a principal, or even open my own school, where I can make these changes a reality. I want to create a space where students feel safe, teachers feel empowered, and every member of the community feels like they belong. And yes, I want to keep the fun in learning too. I’m a naturally bubbly person, and I fully plan to bring joy, humor, and maybe even the occasional dance break into my future classroom. Because learning should feel like discovery, not punishment. At the end of the day, I don’t just want to teach curriculum. I want to teach people. I want to see the kid who never speaks suddenly light up in a group discussion. I want to help the “distracted” student find focus through a new learning method. I want to be the adult who sees a child not just for their struggles, but for their strength. Education changed my life, and I want to return the favor by helping change it for others. If I could change anything in education, I’d start by helping every student feel seen. And from there, I’d build a system where all students are not only taught, but truly understood.

I was raised by a single mom who wore every hat, provider, protector, encourager, and disciplinarian. She somehow made the impossible look manageable. Growing up in a single-mother household shaped me in more ways than I can count. It taught me resilience, responsibility, and how to stay grounded even when life feels like a storm. My mom always reminded me that we might not have had a lot, but we had love, and that was more powerful than anything money could buy. I was the only girl in a family full of brothers, three older, two younger, and from a young age, I had responsibilities that most kids my age didn’t. In a lot of Black households, the oldest daughter naturally takes on the role of “second mom,” and I was no exception. Whether it was changing diapers, helping with homework, or making sure everyone was fed while my mom was working late, I stepped up. That experience built my time management skills and, more importantly, my love for nurturing others. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those long nights juggling school and family helped shape my passion for teaching. I want to make a positive impact on the world through education. I plan to start by teaching young children, helping them build confidence, curiosity, and emotional intelligence from the very beginning. But I don’t want to stop there. I want to pursue my master’s degree, with the goal of eventually teaching older students, becoming a school leader, and one day owning or leading my own school. I want to create learning environments that are inclusive, empowering, and deeply rooted in empathy. One of my biggest dreams is to implement a required empathy class, from kindergarten all the way to college. In today’s world, kids need more than just math and reading skills; they need emotional intelligence, communication skills, and a basic understanding of how to treat others with respect and compassion. Empathy can change how students interact, how classrooms function, and how communities grow. Another change I want to bring to education is the acknowledgment that not all students learn the same way. In my dream school, there would be room for different teaching styles and learning paths. Some kids thrive with visuals, others with hands-on activities or storytelling. Yet so often, we expect every child to move at the same pace and measure their success with the same standards. That kind of system leaves too many students behind. I want to help build classrooms where individual learning styles are honored, and progress is measured by growth, not perfection. Growing up, I didn’t always feel like I belonged. I spent time in predominantly white schools and even studied abroad in China. I was often the only Black girl in the room, and being mixed-race with a mostly white family made me feel disconnected from my culture for a long time. But attending an HBCU helped change that. It gave me a sense of pride, connection, and confidence that I had never experienced before. It made me realize I’m not alone. Now, I carry all of that with me into my career goals. I want to be a role model for kids who feel overlooked. I want to lead with compassion, advocate for change, and create classrooms, and eventually schools, where every student feels safe, seen, and supported. Growing up in a single-mother household didn’t hold me back, it prepared me to lead with heart and purpose. And I plan to use that purpose to help change the world, one student at a time.

My name is Summer, and I’m a senior education major preparing to graduate this December. I’m passionate, driven, and endlessly curious about people, especially the way we learn, grow, and connect. Right now, I plan to teach children in early childhood or elementary education, but that’s only the beginning. I want to build a career that evolves with me, one that allows me to lead, advocate, and create lasting change in education from the inside out. My long-term goal is to pursue a master’s degree in education leadership or curriculum development. While my heart is currently in the classroom with younger students, I also see myself possibly teaching older students in the future, mentoring new educators, or even becoming a principal. Ultimately, I want to own my own school, or at least have a leadership role where I can directly shape school culture, structure, and student support. One of the most important things I want to implement is a class on empathy. I believe empathy is a skill just like reading or math, it can be taught, practiced, and improved. Whether it’s a kindergartener learning to share or a college student navigating group work, every age group can benefit from learning how to understand others. Empathy builds safer classrooms, better communication, and stronger communities. It’s the thread that holds together the emotional side of learning, which often gets overlooked in traditional curriculum. Another core belief I hold is that students are not one-size-fits-all, so why should their education be? In my school, there would be space for different teaching styles and learning environments because all students are not the same. Some learn best through hands-on activities, others through visual aids, discussion, or independent exploration. I want to create a system where students are given the opportunity to learn in a way that actually fits how their brains work. They shouldn’t be expected to progress at the same speed or meet the same standards when they’re all on completely different wavelengths. I believe in personalized growth over forced uniformity. When students feel like they are being taught with them in mind, they thrive. Growing up as the only girl in a house full of brothers, raised by a single mom, I took on a lot of responsibility early. I often felt like a second parent while balancing schoolwork and helping care for my younger siblings. That taught me how to lead with both structure and compassion. Later, studying abroad in China and attending an HBCU gave me two completely different perspectives on identity and culture. Those experiences made me realize how much connection and understanding can transform a person’s sense of self, and how important it is to bring that same sense of belonging into the classroom. I want to make a positive impact on my community by being more than just a teacher, I want to be a role model, a safe space, and a force for change. I plan to stay involved in community outreach, lead after-school mentorship programs, and help students and families navigate academic and emotional challenges. Education doesn’t stop at the school doors, and I believe educators have the power to create real ripple effects in their communities. My dream school wouldn’t just teach the basics, it would teach kids how to be kind, emotionally intelligent, and self-aware. It would embrace different learning styles, honor individuality, and create space for every student to succeed in their own way. I want to help build a system where students don’t just pass tests, but grow into strong, empathetic individuals ready to handle the world with confidence and care.

I’ve always believed that the early years of a child’s life are the most important. So much of who we are is shaped before we ever walk into a high school classroom. That’s why I chose to pursue a career in early childhood education, because I want to be one of the first people who helps a child feel confident, curious, and loved for exactly who they are. My journey into this field wasn’t traditional, but it was deeply personal. I grew up as the only girl in a house full of brothers, three older and two younger, raised by a single mom who did everything she could to give us the world. As the only daughter, I naturally stepped into a caretaker role early on. In many Black households, the oldest girl often becomes the second mom, and I was no exception. I was changing diapers, helping with homework, and trying to balance my own school life all at once. As chaotic as it was, that experience showed me how much I genuinely love caring for others, especially children. I’ve also studied abroad in China, attended predominantly white schools, and spent much of my childhood feeling like I didn’t fully belong anywhere. It wasn’t until I got to my HBCU that I found my people, my tribe. That experience changed everything. I saw firsthand how crucial it is for kids to have spaces where they feel represented and understood. I want to create that kind of environment in the classroom, starting with our youngest learners. To support early childhood development, I plan to focus not just on academics, but on emotional growth, communication, and confidence building. I want to be the kind of teacher who listens, who celebrates differences, and who recognizes that every child learns differently. My classroom will be a safe space for creativity, expression, and joy. I’ll incorporate cultural learning, social emotional activities, and interactive play based lessons that support development across all areas, because kids don’t just need information, they need connection. Representation also matters deeply to me. I want my students, especially Black and brown children, to see someone who looks like them and believes in them from day one. Growing up, I didn’t have many teachers who reflected my identity, and I know how that impacted my self-esteem. I want to change that for the next generation. And yes, I plan to keep the classroom fun. I’ve always been a bubbly person with a big laugh, and I believe kids learn best when they feel safe and happy. Whether it’s through silly songs, hands on activities, or a mini dance party during brain breaks, I want my students to enjoy learning and feel excited to come to school. At the end of the day, I chose this field because I want to be a part of a child’s foundation, the part that helps shape who they become. Early childhood development isn’t just about preparing kids for school, it’s about helping them develop a love for learning, a belief in themselves, and the tools they need to thrive in life. That’s the kind of impact I want to make, one little smile and one tiny breakthrough at a time.

In the future, I want to become a teacher who makes students feel seen, safe, and inspired. My dream is to work in underserved communities and be the consistent, uplifting presence I wish I had at times growing up. To me, education is empowerment, it’s how you show someone they matter, that their voice counts, and that their future is worth investing in. Being Black means strength, pride, and connection, but I didn’t always feel that. I’m mixed, Black and white, and I grew up mostly around my white family. I attended predominantly white schools and even went to high school overseas. I always felt like the “different one,” like no one quite laughed the way I laughed or thought the way I thought. I didn’t know how much I was missing until I got to my HBCU. Choosing to attend Huston-Tillotson University was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Being surrounded by people who look like me, who just get me, has been healing and empowering. I’ve learned things here I never could’ve overseas, about my culture, my history, and myself. And let’s be real… it’s opened me up in other ways too. Growing up, I never had seasoned food. At my HBCU, I went to a Jamaican food truck and tried Jamaican food for the first time. It was spicy. It was intense. I panicked a little. But now? I eat it everyday. My HBCU gave me more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

If I could create a class that every student in grades K-12 was required to take, it would be a class on empathy. In a world that’s more connected than ever, we’re also seeing more division, misunderstanding, and judgment. I truly believe that if more people were taught how to understand each other, listen without judgment, and recognize the humanity in others, our communities, and our classrooms, would be stronger, kinder, and more inclusive. Empathy isn’t just about being “nice.” It’s about seeing life through someone else’s eyes, even if their experiences are completely different from your own. I learned the power of empathy growing up as the only girl in a house full of boys, raised by a single mom. In our household, emotions weren’t always easy to talk about, but I became the “emotional translator” the one who tried to understand what everyone was feeling and help make peace. That role taught me how powerful it is when someone feels seen and heard, and it’s something I carry with me in everything I do. I also had the opportunity to study abroad in China, where I was surrounded by people who didn’t speak my language and didn’t share my background, but still welcomed me with warmth and curiosity. That experience showed me that empathy crosses cultures, borders, and even language barriers. It confirmed what I already knew deep down: we’re all more alike than we think, and learning to connect with others on a human level is one of the most important skills a person can have. In my empathy class, students would learn how to identify their own emotions, actively listen to others, and think critically about perspectives different from their own. The curriculum would include storytelling, collaborative problem-solving, and real-world scenarios where students practice putting themselves in someone else’s shoes. We’d cover topics like mental health, cultural sensitivity, emotional intelligence, and how to have respectful conversations, even when we disagree. The impact of this class could be massive. Kids would grow up with stronger emotional skills, better communication habits, and more compassion. Bullying would decrease. School culture would shift. And beyond that, students would take those skills into adulthood, becoming more empathetic coworkers, friends, partners, and leaders. As a future educator, I want to help build a generation of emotionally intelligent students who can change the world not just with their knowledge, but with their hearts. I don’t just want to teach reading or math, I want to teach humanity. That’s why I believe an empathy class should be required for all students. Because once you can understand someone else’s feelings, everything else, conflict, miscommunication, injustice, starts to make more sense, and becomes something we can work through together.

I was raised by a single mom and grew up surrounded by brothers, three older, and two younger that my mom had by the time I was twelve. Being the only girl in a house full of boys came with a lot of responsibility. In many Black households, the only or oldest daughter often steps into a second-parent role, and that was definitely true for me. I was helping with homework, meals, diaper duty, you name it—all while trying to keep up with my own schoolwork. It wasn’t easy, but it taught me how to manage my time, stay organized, and most of all, how deeply I care about supporting others. That foundation of caretaking is actually what led me to discover my passion for teaching. I got a life-changing opportunity to study abroad in China, and it opened my eyes to the beauty of different cultures and how learning connects us all. Even when we don’t speak the same language or come from the same background, education is the one thing we all share. Everyone learns, and everyone needs a teacher. Now, I’m in my last semester of college, working toward my degree in education and preparing to graduate this December. I’m balancing summer classes, part-time work, and teacher prep programs while continuing to mentor and volunteer with kids in my community. Coming from a low-income, single-parent household didn’t hold me back, it gave me the strength, heart, and drive to uplift others. I want to be the kind of teacher who helps every student feel seen, understood, and capable of greatness. If I can be that person for even one student, then all the challenges I’ve faced will have been more than worth it.