I'm submitted a video essay submission!

“You are my rock.” A silly yet unwavering statement that only the strongest women in my life know the significance of: My mom and my grandma. Until 69, my grandma was known for the elegance she carried like a second skin. Behind that grace, she cared for her husband and mother, juggled multiple jobs, and even pursued her studies later in life— all without letting either slip. I grew up wondering How? trying to picture how she managed everything with poise, to which the answer was a quiet secret between us — she made everything her own. Her elegance was her power that gave her the drive to do everything she did, that includes taking random cool jobs like modeling for Ebony, or nurturing her love of learning. She made sure to have fun and put her interests first. My mom took that secret of hers and did the same. Even after my father left the household, my mom—who had to take another position of head of the household as a disabled single mother—didn’t just work to keep us afloat. To my surprise, Her personal goals are to create a silver spoon that was never offered to us to begin with, continuing a legacy my grandma did everything she could to provide us. To others, they would see my grandmother’s and mother's situation and take it at face value, when in reality the underlying themes and motivations for people are precisely what makes us complex. It's left undiscovered, waiting for us to investigate and uncover our motives. Slapping "this or that" limits us from creating compromises, redefining situations, and discovering something new. Caught in the question, Who am I? I found that viewing myself as either a success or a failure, disregards the admirability that comes from my interests and passions. Stepping into uncharted territory, the “rocks” in my life showed me a path of reliance and individuality, and encouraged me to learn and submerge myself in various studies and ambitious situations. This uncovered my love for research, leading, and art, substantially more than what I could have discovered with a definitive label on who I was. I’ve been fortunate to launch a nonprofit supporting students creating and exploring career paths, and to intern with the first-ever BIPOC queer photography gallery, both of which taught me the value of community and representation. Now, as a student at the Rhode Island School of Design, I’m combining my passions to foster experiences—most recently by working with RISD’s DEI initiative and my peers to design a women’s empowerment open mic night that highlights women and femme artists while building community connections. Although labeling myself as an artist can be seen as limiting, it's an ever-evolving title that changes as I develop as a person. I owe my hopeful outlook to the women whose strength and vision shaped me, and I intend to honor that inheritance by carrying it forward post-college. I want to directly support and empower under-represented femme, black, and trans communities that fuel my current work to provide a new perspective for members in and outside the community. That being said, I take inspiration out of the nonbinary structures of the world, and by pursuing art, I look to achieve new metrics. Encouraging us to be less divisive, accept new "yes's and no's," and expose unexplored aspects of art and uncontextualized life features in the world to create an inspiring path forward.