Growing up, whenever my heart would feel something strongly, it would be difficult for me to find the words and confidence to say it. But I could always write or draw how I felt. That came easily. I thank my mom for instilling in me the love of books, because that is what made all the difference in me discovering my voice and myself. Picture books initially inspired me to become an artist. Once I got older, fiction and nonfiction books, over time, helped improve my vocabulary to better communicate my feelings and gain confidence in doing so. And literacy not only helped me maintain great grades in school, but also helped me advocate for myself. My first introduction to books was as a toddler. My mom amassed a mini library of children’s books for me to enjoy. Even before I could read, the way picture books visually convey plot and themes helped me comprehend complex ideas. Two of my favorite children’s books with expressive pictures are “please, baby, please,” by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee and the Sesame Street classic, “The Monster at the End of this Book,” by Jon Stone. The beautiful details drawn in these books, and many other picture books I enjoyed at a very young age, aided my comprehension of the words my mom would read to me at bedtime. This was what inspired me to get into drawing my own characters and creating their unique stories. As a child, I would see my mother constantly read news articles and nonfiction books on issues that mattered to her. She would also re-read many of her favorite fiction books she discovered in her youth. Many of them became some of my favorites too, like “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” by Mildred D. Taylor and “The Westing Game,” by Ellen Raskin. And we would discover new books to read together, such as “Children of Blood and Bone,” by Tomi Adeyemi. Every summer, we would visit the library at least once a week, and she would assign books to me, both fiction and nonfiction, that she thought I would be interested in. This influence helped me excel in school despite struggling with ADHD and generalized anxiety. My mom has always been assured and confident in voicing her opinions no matter where she was speaking or who she was speaking to, and always has the research and knowledge to back it up factually. But, because of my anxiety, I found it hard to advocate for myself. Anytime I tried to speak up for myself, I would frequently think about what the point was in wasting my energy when no one is listening or cares. So, my safe space was in reading, writing, and drawing. However, I found through books like “The Hate U Give,” by Angie Thomas, and “All The Black Girls are Activists,” by ebonyjanice, the push to not give up on myself. “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This quote by Zora Neale Hurston emphasizes the importance of using my words. Self-advocacy is not an easy feat for me; reading books that represented who I was pushed me to grow into who I am. With this award, I would fund my education in illustration and creative writing. I hope to create works of art from my experience growing up that will help kids develop a love of literacy early on, as I did, and it continues for a lifetime. And I hope I can inspire the next generation to learn about and advocate for themselves.

A trance is the best way to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a preschooler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen of my life to come. It was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, and skin tones. This issue has gained attention recently, yet many creators rely on tokenism instead of delivering genuine portrayals. As an African-American woman, I’m drained by the shallow depictions of minorities that reduce and limit us to stereotypes. I’m committed to the challenge of crafting new stories as opposed to simply diversifying existing familiar narratives. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness and value of reality. More specifically, I’m passionate about addressing the portrayal of different races in varying skin tones. It’s very common for many African Americans, Asians, and those who are ethnically Hispanic to be depicted with lighter skin tones primarily. This not only negatively impacts how these communities are perceived but also affects the self-image of those who don’t fit these limited images. I aim to challenge this norm by celebrating the full spectrum of skin tones and experiences, showcasing the beauty and diversity that exists in these communities. Additionally, I want to promote characters whose diverse sexual preferences and identities, as well as disabilities, are a significant part of their story, but not the whole of who they are and what they represent. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, where every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. My immediate future goal is to refine my skills so I can perfect the creation of multi-dimensional, relatable characters whose identities, while integral to their narratives, also connect to others outside of those who share their identities. This will promote understanding and empathy. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world. I believe putting other voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. By doing so, I hope to inspire those who don’t currently see themselves represented accurately or at all in mainstream media, one character at a time. Who knows, maybe there’s a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance, watching something I create with awe.

2. Describe a problem in your community that most people walk past. What do you notice that others don't, and what would you do if you had the resources to act? Within the Black community, I feel like there's a purposeful loss of cultural identity. The people in power take what they find interesting, new, and beautiful and claim it as their own. That leaves the negative parts of our culture to seem the most prominent and identifiable. These negative parts of our culture, such as violence, relationship statuses, and substance use, are all implanted within our communities due to systemic racism keeping our generations financially vulnerable. It deeply hurts me to see people fall into the negative cycles and be subject to living their lives in a system not built for us to thrive and live well. To see my community stuck in food deserts, which then cause health issues that we have to pay to fix; our sense of community being challenged by online discourse; children's education not being properly funded so those children are easier to manipulate, and more. I feel like my community accepts this as the way of life, even as it slowly divides and conquers us. We're only still alive because they need us for entertainment and labor. As a community, I find it vital that we rebuild our sense of community to regain our cultural identity and united strength, to protect ourselves from the system that holds us down. If I had the resources to act, I would start with our community. By funding safe spaces for our adults to converse and talk with one another, we will find that despite our differences, we can come to an understanding of one another. For our teens and youth, finding spaces where they can freely and safely connect with peers is important. In these spaces, I want mentors and adults from different backgrounds to inspire them. This way, we can start rebuilding the sense of community and identity that was lost. If there’s any way we're going to fight for a better quality of life, it’s together. We can’t achieve that goal if we’re divided and stuck in the cycles that don’t benefit us as a community.

I feel like I constantly contradict myself - always caught between a feeling. I like keeping to myself and spending my downtime alone, but I also yearn to be energized by people. There's no clean way to explain it. I'm not purely an introvert or purely an extrovert; I'm both, depending on the day, sometimes depending on the hour. At times, I can mirror a person's personality and become outgoing, easily matching their energy and keeping a conversation moving without even trying. Other times, with someone else entirely, I can't guess what they're feeling or how to interact with them. I go quiet, unsure, overthinking every response. It's strange to feel so in tune with people one moment and so lost around them the next. If someone were to try to define me using certain traits, it's always a "sometimes" or a "kind of." Am I confident? Sometimes. Am I social? Kind of. There's rarely a straight yes or no. At times, it's hard to define myself because I feel so different all the time, like I'm made up of pieces that don't always agree with each other. For a while, that bothered me. I'd watch people around me describe themselves in one word, like "the funny one," "the quiet one," "the leader.” And I wonder why I couldn't do the same without immediately thinking of the version of me that contradicted it. It felt like everyone else had a fixed identity while mine kept shifting shape. But I've started to see it differently. Maybe being in between isn't a lack of identity. Maybe it's just an identity that hasn't finished forming yet, and maybe it never will in the way I originally expected. I hope to take my years in higher education to define who I am, even if it can't be defined the way I'm exposed to right now. I don't think I'm looking for a single word to describe myself by the time I graduate. I'm looking for something more honest than that, room to keep being a "sometimes" and a "kind of" without treating it like a problem to solve. Higher education feels like the right place to do that. In new environments, with new people, and new pressures, all of it will pull different sides of me to the surface. The independent study nights that remind me how much I need my alone time. The group projects that force me to read people I don't understand yet. The moments where I'll surprise myself by being more outgoing than I expected, and the moments where I'll retreat further inward than I planned. I look forward to making new definitions that fit me, instead of trying to squeeze myself into ones that were never built with me in mind. I don't have a tidy way to sum myself up yet, and I'm okay with that. I'd rather spend the next several years paying attention to my contradictions than pretending they don't exist. I think that's where the real definition of who I am is going to come from. Not from picking a single trait and holding onto it, but from noticing the pattern in all the "sometimes" and all the "kind ofs," and finally understanding what they add up to.

The most radical thing I can do with a pencil is draw someone who has never seen themselves on screen and make them feel, for the first time, that they were always worth depicting. As an African-American woman studying illustration and visual development at the Savannah College of Art and Design, I am training to enter an entertainment industry that has made progress on diversity without always achieving it. Too often, representation means a familiar story with a different face. Identity applied like a costume rather than built into the character from the beginning. My work is driven by a different belief: that authentic representation requires constructing characters from the inside out, rooting their culture, their humor, their grief, and their complexity into the very foundation of who they are. One area I am especially committed to is skin tone. African-American, Asian, and Hispanic characters are routinely depicted with lightened complexions, a quiet editorial choice that sends a loud message about whose appearance is considered acceptable on screen. I intend to push back against that pattern deliberately, celebrating the full spectrum of these communities without softening or compromise. The impact I am working toward operates on two levels. The first is personal. When a young Black girl sees a character who shares not just her complexion but her full humanity, her contradictions, her interior life, and her worth, something real shifts in how she sees herself. The second is collective. Thoughtfully constructed characters have the power to build empathy across differences, inviting audiences into lives and communities they might never otherwise encounter. I believe art is one of the most powerful tools we have for expanding what people are able to imagine about each other. Through illustration and storytelling, I plan to contribute to a world where no one sits in front of a screen and fails to find themselves there. And where the people who do appear are rendered with the depth, specificity, and care that every human life deserves.

My love for art was born in the quiet magic of early childhood. Picture books and cartoons opened worlds beyond my imagination, and I was captivated. With the basic art supplies my mother could afford, I began creating my own worlds. Sometimes, to her dismay, directly on the bedroom floor. That creative impulse was never just about making something pretty. From the very beginning, art was my escape and my anchor. This became especially true during one of the hardest periods of my life. In my last year of elementary school, my family experienced homelessness. We moved from one temporary home to another, sustained by the love of extended family and close friends who never let us feel entirely alone. During that time, I turned to the shows and films I watched with a new kind of urgency. I was searching for myself in those stories, looking for characters who knew what it felt like to struggle, to be uncertain, to keep going anyway. When I found even a glimpse of my own experience reflected on screen, it gave me something profound: hope. That discovery changed the way I thought about art forever. I realized that representation is not a luxury; it is a lifeline. For children who feel voiceless or unseen, seeing themselves in a story can mean everything. That realization planted the seed of a purpose that has guided me ever since. I want to create that feeling for others. By the end of middle school, I had begun to take my artistic ambitions seriously, shifting my perspective from art as a hobby to art as a future. With my mother's unwavering encouragement, I pursued every opportunity available to me. I won numerous art-related competitions through 4-H in middle school and went on to earn recognition in local and national contests throughout high school. I served as President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter, and my work was awarded the Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork distinction through my high school's literary magazine. Among my proudest achievements was receiving a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design's prestigious summer program, not just once, but two years in a row. Each of these milestones reinforced what I already felt in my bones. This is what I am meant to do. Now that I’m almost through my first year of college, I’ve discovered that it has been everything I had hoped for and more: difficult but rewarding. I have found my community, not only amongst my fellow students, but also amongst the dedicated and helpful faculty. Yet, financial constraints have never fully loosened their grip. Even as my skills and recognition have grown, and I maintain a 3.67 GPA, the economic limitations that shaped my childhood continue to follow me. It is becoming increasingly difficult to pursue my education without being hindered by those pressures. This is precisely why college, and the support that comes with it, is so critical to my path. College will provide me with the formal training, mentorship, and professional development I need to translate my passion into a sustainable career. It will give me the tools to craft characters and stories with depth and authenticity, stories of resilience, struggle, and hope that connect people through shared human experience. My goal is not simply to become an artist. It is to become an artist whose work contributes to healing. I want to create the kind of representation I once searched for desperately as a child — art that reaches young people navigating their own hardships and says, quietly but clearly, “you are not alone.” The adversity I have faced has not diminished that vision; it has sharpened it and made it unshakeable. College is where that vision becomes a reality. It is where my experiences, my purpose, and my craft will come together into something I can offer the world. I am ready to do the work, meet the challenges, and honor every difficult chapter of my story by turning it into something that brings light to others. That is why I want to be in college. My goal is not just for myself, but for every child who has ever needed to see themselves in a story and couldn't find their reflection anywhere.

Some relationships do not simply exist alongside your life; they shape the very foundation of it. My relationship with my mother is exactly that. As an only child raised in a single-parent household, she has been my closest companion, my most consistent source of encouragement, and the person whose influence quietly lives inside every choice I make. The way she has shown up for me has not only shaped who I am, but has fundamentally changed how I show up for others. My mother made a choice early on that I now recognize as extraordinary: she refused to let practicality override my passion. While many parents guide their children toward traditional career paths in medicine, law, or business, she looked at my love for art and decided it was worth protecting. That decision was never passive. She actively sought out art camps, provided every supply I asked for, and when something I needed exceeded what she could offer alone, she coordinated with family members, giving them specific, art-related gift suggestions and asking for their help when the need arose. She built a support network around me with such care and intention that I always felt held, even in moments when I might have otherwise felt the absence of a two-parent household most acutely. What has stayed with me most, however, is not any single gesture but the consistency behind all of them. No accomplishment was too small for her to celebrate. She made sure that every milestone, regardless of its size, was shared with our entire family so that the encouragement surrounding me was never just hers alone; it was collective. Growing up, this taught me something invaluable: that the people who love you should know when you succeed, and that sharing someone's joy is its own form of love. That lesson has quietly rewired the way I connect with others. Because I was raised inside a relationship defined by unconditional, non-judgmental support, I have come to understand that genuine connection requires active investment. I try to carry that same quality of attention into my own relationships. Her example has also shaped how I respond to vulnerability. As a single parent, my mother could have allowed the pressures of her circumstances to create emotional distance. Instead, she remained present, open, warm, and deeply invested. That courage has made me someone who leans into relationships rather than away from them. I do not shy away from expressing gratitude, from acknowledging effort, or from telling people directly what they mean to me. I learned from her that love is most powerful when it is spoken and demonstrated, not simply assumed. Looking forward, the relationship I have with my mother continues to be both a compass and a motivation. As I pursue my creative goals, the work ethic and sense of self she helped build in me will guide every step. But beyond my individual ambitions, I carry forward her model of community; the understanding that none of us achieve anything alone, and that the most meaningful thing we can do for the people in our lives is to pay close attention to who they are and reflect that back to them through consistent, genuine support. She gave me more than encouragement. She gave me a template for how to love people well. Every meaningful relationship I build from here will carry her fingerprints, in the way I listen, the way I celebrate, and the way I refuse to let the people I care about feel unseen. That, perhaps more than anything else, is the most lasting gift she has ever given me.

Leadership is not a title. It is a responsibility. As president of my high school's National Art Honor Society (NAHS) chapter, I came to understand that truth deeply. Under my leadership, our chapter held 10 events and participated in 20 community service projects, collectively reaching over 2,300 students, families, and community members. Coordinating logistics, delegating tasks, communicating with sponsors, and filling in wherever needed, I learned that effective leadership means showing up fully, not just directing from a distance. One of my proudest achievements was increasing the visibility of the visual arts both within our school and in the broader community. From Art Spirit Week workshops and student art shows to a teacher sip-and-paint night, I helped create spaces where creativity could be celebrated, while also raising funds for our chapter. Our community work, including face painting at a feeder elementary school's fall festival and decorating the city's town square during the holidays, showed me that art is not confined to galleries. It belongs everywhere, and it connects people. Knowing that our chapter helped our school be seen positively in the community reinforced something I had always believed: student organizations can make a real difference. That belief has continued to shape how I volunteer beyond school. With HeadCount, a nonpartisan voter registration organization, I assist eligible voters at concerts and festivals, often alongside my mother, which makes the work even more meaningful. Voter registration may seem straightforward, but in practice, many people hesitate for deeply personal reasons. Helping someone work through that hesitation and take their first step toward civic participation is profoundly rewarding. Democracy functions best when everyone's voice is counted, and I feel fortunate to play even a small role in that. My volunteerism extends further. At the Center for Puppetry Arts, I guide children through the creative process as a puppet-making instructor. I’ve also educated guests about the art of puppetry and its history, managed exhibit areas and provided wayfinding assistance, and supported staff during special events and fundraisers. Through programs like Monster Mash and Atlanta Housing Authority Family Day, I have worked alongside diverse communities in meaningful, hands-on ways. Across all of these experiences, a common thread has emerged: I find purpose in service, and I grow through it. Leading my NAHS chapter taught me organization, communication, and grace under pressure. Volunteering has taught me empathy, adaptability, and the quiet power of showing up for others. Together, these experiences have not only shaped the person I am today; they have made clear the kind of person I want to continue becoming: one who leads with intention, serves with heart, and never underestimates the impact a single person can have on a community.

I plan to make a positive impact on the world through my major by changing what a child sees when she looks at a screen. As an illustration major concentrating and minoring in visual development, I'm training to do more than render beautiful images. I'm learning to construct people, fully realized, culturally grounded, unmistakably real, and to place them at the center of stories that have too long gone without them. This work is personal before it is professional. As an African-American woman living with ADHD and anxiety, I know what it feels like to watch your community appear on screen as shorthand rather than as human beings, skin lightened for palatability, dialects flattened, grief made decorative. The entertainment industry has responded to calls for diversity, but too often, representation means a familiar story with a darker face cast in a prewritten role. I intend to do something harder and more honest than that. My process begins in the world around me. Usually starting with a detail so small it almost disappears…and from it, an entire person takes shape in my mind. I build outward from that spark: family history, cultural context, the specific humor and specific sorrow of a life fully inhabited. I believe that authentic representation requires constructing characters from the inside out, so that identity is woven into who they are rather than applied afterward like a coat of paint. A character's Blackness, her queerness, her anxiety, these are not costume elements. They are the architecture of her inner life. One dimension of this work matters to me above all others: skin tone. African-American, Asian, and Hispanic characters are routinely depicted with light complexions. That quiet editorial choice accumulates into something loud. A persistent signal to entire communities that their actual appearance is too much, too specific, too dark to be worth depicting faithfully. I want to push back against that with every character I design. I want to celebrate the full, uncompressed spectrum of these communities: their looks, their domestic lives, their vernacular, their joy, and their grief rendered without apology. The impact I hope to have is both intimate and expansive. For a young African-American child, seeing a character who shares not just her skin tone but her complexity, her contradictions, her humor, and her interior life, can quietly reshape how she understands her own value. That kind of recognition cannot be faked, and tokenism cannot produce it. Genuine representation tells a person that their full self is worth depicting, worth understanding, worth celebrating. Beyond my own community, I want the work to build bridges. Illustration and visual storytelling have a unique power to invite audiences into lives they would never otherwise encounter and to cultivate empathy across real differences. One character at a time, I am working toward a body of art that makes the world of film and television a more honest mirror of the world we actually inhabit. One where no one has to search the screen and come away empty. This scholarship would be extremely helpful in helping me afford college. I could then fully invest in developing my craft, continuing my volunteer work, and participating in industry events to build meaningful connections. It may also reduce my student loan burden, freeing me to pursue roles aligned with my professional goals. Most importantly, it can relieve some of the financial stress on my mom, who has been my biggest advocate and supporter.

The Underlying Meaning of “Be Near Me” To the naked eye, this is just a beautifully written poem about love and longing in the night. Upon first reading, I concluded that the poem had an underlying theme of the night's emotional effect on the writer and how it amplified the feelings of love and longing, but I felt like there had to be more. The meaning that lies even deeper beneath the surface is based on the author's history of subjects for his poems. He often wrote political poems, and that’s what made me shift my understanding. The underlying meaning of the poem, “Be Near Me,” by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, is that love is the strongest hope in crisis. I concluded this based on the political state of Faiz’s hometown, Siakolt, his personification of the night, and his diction. To start, in 1987, Faiz published a collection of poems from that year. And with his upbringing into poetry through his father being an elite member of a social literary circle, I suspected there must’ve been something happening in Siakolt during the time of his writing. My suspicions were correct; there was high political turmoil in the region as well as ethnic tensions amongst Mohajirs, Sindhis, Punjabis, and more. Despite his chaotic environment, Faiz's poetry reflects the belief that love serves as a beacon of hope amidst negative external forces. In "Be Near Me," this sentiment suggests that the bonds of affection and connection can provide solace and strength to endure even the most challenging times. His writing reflected this sentiment well through his diction and his personifications. His personification of the night is notable in his underlying meaning. “It’s blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step,” is talking about the night, yet it seems as though it also describes a political climate that is imprisoning and hard to escape. Another quote, “When having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes,” is representative of the numbness felt from constant conflict and how the strong emotion regarding that conflict follows. These personifications reiterate the feeling of hopelessness and despair with his environment. "When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use;” near the end expresses his hopelessness toward the state of his country. He follows this up with, “Be with me,” meaning when things outside of your control take over your life and emotions, love is there as comfort and as hope. His word choice is also notable when understanding his underlying meaning. His use of diction, with words such as “lamentation”, which means the passionate expression of grief or sorrow, represents the political issues he most likely was experiencing in everyday life. Faiz also uses the words “diamond lancets.” A lancet is a blade with a sharp point, and when put together with a diamond, it can be described as glorified or beautiful pain. Typically, conflict is glorified when countries defend or offend other countries. Diamond could also refer to the strength of the pain, given that it’s one of the strongest minerals. With his depiction of the night being painful and emotionally draining for not only himself but also others around him, his source of light is his tormentor and his love. To conclude, Faiz’s beautiful poem delves deeper than just love and longing but into feelings of despair for his current political climate. This is relatable to a lot of people today who are scared, given conflicts around the world and in their homes. This poem stood out for its timelessness and adaptability to many global situations even today. For me, the depth of love being the source of hope amidst dark times is inspiring and makes me appreciate loved ones who keep me positive even more than before. I hope many more people discover his work and, more specifically, his poem, “Be Near Me.” BE NEAR ME by Faiz Ahmed Faiz “Be near me now, My tormenter, my love, be near me— At this hour when night comes down, When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes, With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets, When it comes with cries of lamentation, with laughter with songs; Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step. At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places, Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil, For hands still enfolded in sleeves; When wine being poured makes the sound of inconsolable children, who, though you try with all your heart, cannot be soothed. When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use; —At this hour when night comes down, When night comes, dragging its long face, dressed in mourning, Be with me, My tormenter, my love, be near me.” WORKS CITED: “Be near Me.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 12 Aug. 2019, poets.org/poem/be-near me. “Brass Tacks and Kashmir: India-Pakistan Military Crises in the 1980s.” Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, adst.org/2017/01/brass-tacks-india-pakistan-military-crises/#:~:text=A%20crisis%20between%20India%20and,National%20Security%20Advisor%20Robert%20Gates. Accessed 11 June 2025. “Faiz Ahmed Faiz.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 13 Feb. 2025, poets.org/poet/faiz-ahmed-faiz. Staff, Al Jazeera. “India-Pakistan Tensions: A Brief History of Conflict.” Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 20 May 2025, www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/5/9/india-pakistan-tensions-a-brief-history-of-conflict#:~:text=1980s:%20The%20rebellion%20in%20Kashmir,popular%2C%20anti%2DIndia%20politicians.

I plan to make a positive impact on the world by changing what a child sees when she looks at a screen. As an illustration major concentrating and minoring in visual development, I'm training to do more than render beautiful images. I'm learning to construct people, fully realized, culturally grounded, unmistakably real, and to place them at the center of stories that have too long gone without them. This work is personal before it is professional. As an African-American woman living with ADHD and anxiety, I know what it feels like to watch your community appear on screen as shorthand rather than as human beings, skin lightened for palatability, dialects flattened, grief made decorative. The entertainment industry has responded to calls for diversity, but too often, representation means a familiar story with a darker face cast in a prewritten role. I intend to do something harder and more honest than that. My process begins in the world around me. Usually starting with a detail so small it almost disappears…and from it, an entire person takes shape in my mind. I build outward from that spark: family history, cultural context, the specific humor and specific sorrow of a life fully inhabited. I believe that authentic representation requires constructing characters from the inside out, so that identity is woven into who they are rather than applied afterward like a coat of paint. A character's Blackness, her queerness, her anxiety, these are not costume elements. They are the architecture of her inner life. One dimension of this work matters to me above all others: skin tone. African-American, Asian, and Hispanic characters are routinely depicted with light complexions. That quiet editorial choice accumulates into something loud. A persistent signal to entire communities that their actual appearance is too much, too specific, too dark to be worth depicting faithfully. I want to push back against that with every character I design. I want to celebrate the full, uncompressed spectrum of these communities: their looks, their domestic lives, their vernacular, their joy, and their grief rendered without apology. The impact I hope to have is both intimate and expansive. For a young African-American child, seeing a character who shares not just her skin tone but her complexity, her contradictions, her humor, and her interior life, can quietly reshape how she understands her own value. That kind of recognition cannot be faked, and tokenism cannot produce it. Genuine representation tells a person that their full self is worth depicting, worth understanding, worth celebrating. Beyond my own community, I want the work to build bridges. Illustration and visual storytelling have a unique power to invite audiences into lives they would never otherwise encounter and to cultivate empathy across real differences. One character at a time, I am working toward a body of art that makes the world of film and television a more honest mirror of the world we actually inhabit. One where no one has to search the screen and come away empty.

I'm building something that cannot be held in the hand, but can change what a child sees when she looks at a screen. As an illustration major concentrating and minoring in visual development, I'm training to do more than render beautiful images. I'm learning to construct people, fully realized, culturally grounded, unmistakably real, and to place them at the center of stories that have too long gone without them. This work is personal before it is professional. As an African-American woman living with ADHD and anxiety, I know what it feels like to watch your community appear on screen as shorthand rather than as human beings, skin lightened for palatability, dialects flattened, grief made decorative. The entertainment industry has responded to calls for diversity, but too often, representation means a familiar story with a darker face cast in a prewritten role. I intend to do something harder and more honest than that. My process begins in the world around me. Usually starting with a detail so small it almost disappears…and from it, an entire person takes shape in my mind. I build outward from that spark: family history, cultural context, the specific humor and specific sorrow of a life fully inhabited. I believe that authentic representation requires constructing characters from the inside out, so that identity is woven into who they are rather than applied afterward like a coat of paint. A character's Blackness, her queerness, her anxiety, these are not costume elements. They are the architecture of her inner life. One dimension of this work matters to me above all others: skin tone. African-American, Asian, and Hispanic characters are routinely depicted with light complexions. That quiet editorial choice accumulates into something loud. A persistent signal to entire communities that their actual appearance is too much, too specific, too dark to be worth depicting faithfully. I want to push back against that with every character I design. I want to celebrate the full, uncompressed spectrum of these communities: their looks, their domestic lives, their vernacular, their joy, and their grief rendered without apology. The impact I hope to have is both intimate and expansive. For a young African-American child, seeing a character who shares not just her skin tone but her complexity, her contradictions, her humor, and her interior life, can quietly reshape how she understands her own value. That kind of recognition cannot be faked, and tokenism cannot produce it. Genuine representation tells a person that their full self is worth depicting, worth understanding, worth celebrating. Beyond my own community, I want the work to build bridges. Illustration and visual storytelling have a unique power to invite audiences into lives they would never otherwise encounter and to cultivate empathy across real differences. One character at a time, I am working toward a body of art that makes the world of film and television a more honest mirror of the world we actually inhabit. One where no one has to search the screen and come away empty.

Sgt. Albert Dono Ware's legacy is not merely a chapter in history. It is a living challenge, a call to every generation to ask: what are you doing with your freedom? The values of service, sacrifice, and bravery that defined his life have quietly but persistently shaped my own journey, not on a battlefield, but on the ground level of civic life, standing at a registration table at a music concert, asking a stranger: “Are you registered to vote?” My most meaningful community experience has been volunteering with HeadCount, a national nonpartisan organization that provides voter registration assistance at cultural events like concerts, festivals, and live shows. I have stood at tables outside performances by Alicia Keys, at a live taping of the Urban Trivia Game, and at Quavo's annual celebrity football game. These are joyful spaces, but the work done in them carries serious weight. Every conversation at that registration table is, in its small way, an act of the same spirit Sgt. Ware embodied: showing up when it matters, even when it is easier not to. What makes this work even more personal is that I do it alongside my mother. As I prepared to leave for college, I was acutely aware that our shared time would change. These volunteer shifts are among the memories I carried with me, not just for the concerts we got to enjoy after our shifts, but for the example she sets. She taught me, through action rather than words, that service is not reserved for extraordinary moments. It is something you do on an ordinary Saturday afternoon, in a parking lot, with a clipboard. Sgt. Ware's sacrifice reminds me that the rights many of us take for granted were paid for at tremendous cost. Bravery, in his context, meant risking everything. In mine, it means something smaller but not insignificant: approaching adults who are hesitant, even resistant, and gently urging them not to surrender their voice. At HeadCount, I have encountered far too many people, particularly Black adults who have lived through the weight of systemic racism, who hesitate to even register. The political process has failed them in ways both visible and invisible, and their reluctance is not apathy. It is a wound. Recognizing that distinction is the beginning of meaningful service. This experience has sharpened my vision for what the African diaspora most urgently needs in this country. The challenges are layered: economic inequity, mass incarceration, educational disparities, and healthcare gaps. But they share a common root: political underrepresentation. When communities do not vote in numbers that reflect their size and stakes, policy continues to be written without them. The most critical reform, in my view, is not a single law but a sustained infrastructure of civic education and access. Specifically, I believe communities need investment in voter education at the local level, not only about how to register, but why it matters and what is at stake in every election, including local races that often have the most direct impact on daily life. Schools, barbershops, churches, and cultural events are already trusted spaces where this education can happen organically. Organizations like HeadCount prove that meeting people where they are, at a concert, at a festival, works. But no reform succeeds without the right people at the table. The stakeholders who must be involved include community-based organizations with deep trust in Black neighborhoods, civil rights legal advocates who can fight voter suppression laws, local elected officials who can champion accessible polling infrastructure, and young people themselves. My generation is not waiting to be handed the future. We are already registering voters, organizing online, and running for office in cities across the country. Sgt. Ware's bravery was not reckless. It was purposeful, directed toward something larger than himself. That is the model I carry into my own work. Even before I was old enough to vote, I had already helped others reclaim that right. Now that I am old enough to vote, when I cast my first ballot, it will be the product of everything I have learned standing at those tables about sacrifice, about stubborn hope, and about the long, unfinished work of building a democracy that actually includes all of us. The legacy of service does not end with one soldier, one generation, or one movement. It asks to be continued. I intend to answer that call.

Some relationships do not simply exist alongside your life; they shape the very foundation of it. My relationship with my mother is exactly that. As an only child raised in a single-parent household, she has been my closest companion, my most consistent source of encouragement, and the person whose influence quietly lives inside every choice I make. The way she has shown up for me has not only shaped who I am, but has fundamentally changed how I show up for others. My mother made a choice early on that I now recognize as extraordinary: she refused to let practicality override my passion. While many parents guide their children toward traditional career paths in medicine, law, or business, she looked at my love for art and decided it was worth protecting. That decision was never passive. She actively sought out art camps, provided every supply I asked for, and when something I needed exceeded what she could offer alone, she coordinated with family members, giving them specific, art-related gift suggestions and asking for their help when the need arose. She built a network of support around me with such care and intention that I always felt held, even in moments when I might have otherwise felt the absence of a two-parent household most acutely. What has stayed with me most, however, is not any single gesture but the consistency behind all of them. No accomplishment was too small for her to celebrate. She made sure that every milestone, regardless of its size, was shared with our entire family so that the encouragement surrounding me was never just hers alone; it was collective. Growing up, this taught me something invaluable: that the people who love you should know when you succeed, and that sharing someone's joy is its own form of love. That lesson has quietly rewired the way I connect with others. Because I was raised inside a relationship defined by unconditional, non-judgmental support, I have come to understand that genuine connection requires active investment. My mother never cheered for me from a distance. She got close, paid attention, and found specific ways to fuel what mattered to me. I try to carry that same quality of attention into my own relationships. When I care about someone, I want to know what drives them. I want to find ways to encourage the things they are building, to celebrate what others might overlook, and to show up with the kind of consistency that actually means something over time. Her example has also shaped how I respond to vulnerability. As a single parent, my mother could have allowed the pressures of her circumstances to create emotional distance. Instead, she remained present, open, warm, and deeply invested. That courage has made me someone who leans into relationships rather than away from them. I do not shy away from expressing gratitude, from acknowledging effort, or from telling people directly what they mean to me. I learned from her that love is most powerful when it is spoken and demonstrated, not simply assumed. Looking forward, the relationship I have with my mother continues to be both a compass and a motivation. As I pursue my creative goals, the work ethic and sense of self she helped build in me will guide every step. But beyond my individual ambitions, I carry forward her model of community; the understanding that none of us achieve anything alone, and that the most meaningful thing we can do for the people in our lives is to pay close attention to who they are and reflect that back to them through consistent, genuine support. She gave me more than encouragement. She gave me a template for how to love people well. Every meaningful relationship I build from here will carry her fingerprints, in the way I listen, the way I celebrate, and the way I refuse to let the people I care about feel unseen. That, perhaps more than anything else, is the most lasting gift she has ever given me. Note: I have attached one of my most recent class projects at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD).

Leadership, I learned, is not just a title. It is a choice you make every day, especially when it is hard. As President of my school's National Art Honors Society (NAHS) chapter, I discovered what truly makes a leader not in the moments of success, but in the moments I almost gave up. The beginning of my term was discouraging. Tasks I assigned went unfinished, responsibilities that seemed obvious required detailed instruction, and I often felt alone in my dedication to making the year meaningful. There were genuine moments when stepping down felt like the easier option. But what kept me going, and what I believe is at the core of my leadership, was a commitment to the people around me, not just the goals in front of me. I chose to stay, and more importantly, I chose to grow. Rather than pushing harder with the same approach, I sought advice from experienced leaders and made a fundamental shift: I stopped trying to lead everyone the same way and started leading each person as an individual. I took time to understand each officer's unique strengths and communication style. An officer with exceptional artistic creativity was encouraged to lead the visual direction of our events. Those who thrived in logistics took ownership of coordination and planning. That intentional alignment of people with purpose transformed our dynamic entirely. What had been a disconnected group of individuals became a cohesive, motivated team. What makes me a leader is not that I had all the answers, but it is that I was willing to ask better questions. How does this person think? What environment helps them thrive? How can I support them without doing the work for them? By building a culture of open communication and consistent feedback, I created a space where officers felt safe contributing, taking risks, and growing. The shift I witnessed was remarkable. Officers who had once hesitated became proactive, confident, and deeply invested. Their growth reflected something I had come to understand: a leader's greatest impact is not what they accomplish themselves, but what they make possible in others. The results spoke for themselves. Our chapter organized successful art showcases and community outreach events, including face-painting at local elementary school events, where we brought creativity and joy to younger students. We were not just completing projects; we were building a community around a shared love of art. Now, as an illustration student at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) who was selected to be a Resident Assistant (RA) for my upcoming sophomore year, I carry those leadership lessons with me. My education is sharpening not only my artistic voice but also my understanding of how to use creativity as a tool for connection and impact. I want to tell visual stories that move people, and I want to build spaces, teams, and communities that empower other artists to do the same. And as an RA, I’m sure there will be times when I have to creatively resolve conflict. What makes me a leader is resilience when things are hard, empathy when people are struggling, and the belief that the best outcomes come from lifting others up rather than carrying everything alone. I did not just hold a title…I showed up, adapted, and helped people discover what they were capable of. And I will continue to do so. That, to me, is what leadership really means.

Behind every dream is a person who believed in it first. For me, that person is my mother. As an only child raised in a single-parent household, she is not just my parent — she is my closest confidant, my loudest cheerleader, and the foundation upon which every goal I have ever set has been built. Her unwavering support of my creative passions has shaped me profoundly, and honoring her means showing up every day with the same dedication she has shown me throughout my life. Many children with artistic ambitions are quietly steered away from them, nudged toward paths deemed more practical or financially secure. My mother never did that. From the very beginning, she treated my creativity as something worth investing in, not tolerating, but actively nurturing. There has not been an art camp she did not enroll me in, an art supply I asked for that went unprovided, or an accomplishment too small for her to share with our entire family. She understood that encouragement is not only verbal; it shows up in sacrifice, in research, in the quiet effort of finding opportunities that a child cannot find for themselves. What moves me most is witnessing what those efforts have cost her. I have seen the sacrifices she has made so that I could participate in enriching experiences, build valuable skills, and form meaningful connections in my field. She never allowed her limitations to become mine. When something I needed was beyond her reach, she reached out to family members with specific, art-related suggestions, making sure that even the gifts I received pointed me further down my path. That kind of intentional, coordinated love is rare, and I do not take it lightly. Growing up without two parents can leave a child feeling as though something essential is missing. What my mother has done is ensure that I never felt the weight of that absence more than I felt the presence of her love. Because of her, I have grown into someone who feels supported rather than limited, encouraged rather than doubtful. Her belief in me has become the inner voice I carry into every creative challenge I face. I honor her by refusing to waste what she has given me. Every skill I sharpen, every opportunity I pursue, every risk I take in service of my goals is a direct reflection of her investment. As I move forward, I plan to build on her support by seeking mentors in my field, continuing to develop my craft with discipline, and one day creating a body of work that she can point to with pride. My gratitude is not passive. I look for ways to express it consistently: through my actions, my words, and ultimately, my achievements. She gave me the freedom to dream and the resources to pursue those dreams seriously. The least I can offer in return is to see them through. Everything I am working toward, I am working toward for both of us.

I have always used humor as a way to connect with people. A well-timed joke, a clever observation, a line delivered just right. These are the moments I live for. Laughter is, in my opinion, one of the most honest forms of human connection. So when someone began consistently taking credit for my jokes, it did not just feel like a minor social annoyance. It felt like a quiet erasure. It happened within my friend group, and it followed a predictable pattern. I would say something funny, a quip, a one-liner, something that came naturally in the moment. Sometimes the room was loud, the timing was off, or my voice simply did not carry far enough for everyone to catch it. But one friend always heard me. And instead of acknowledging what I said, he would repeat it, louder, with confidence, and the group would erupt. The laughter that should have been mine landed at his feet, and he accepted it without hesitation, without correction, and without ever once saying, "Actually, she said that." What made this sting deeper than it might have for someone else was the context I was already operating in. There is a persistent, frustrating cultural stigma that women are not funny. It is one of those tired assumptions that refuses to die, and I was acutely aware of it every time I opened my mouth to make a joke in a male-dominated social space. Every funny line I landed was, in my mind, a small pushback against that narrative. It was proof...quiet, personal proof...that I belonged in the conversation just as much as anyone else. When my friend repeatedly claimed that credit, it did not just feel like social theft. It felt like the stigma was winning. Like I was being edited out of my own story. Despite how much this bothered me, I never said anything. Not once. I did not pull him aside, did not call it out in the moment, did not even let my frustration show on my face. Looking back, I understand why. And I also understand the cost of that silence. I was afraid. Afraid that if I spoke up, I would be laughed at in a different way. Afraid of becoming the butt of the joke, the girl who could not take it, the one who made things awkward over something that "was not that serious." In a group dynamic where I already felt like I had something to prove, drawing attention to my own discomfort felt like handing people a reason to dismiss me further. So I swallowed it, again and again, and smiled through it. What I did instead was quieter but just as decisive. I distanced myself from that friend. Not with a dramatic confrontation or a formal ending, but with a gradual, intentional withdrawal. I stopped investing in the friendship. I came to a conclusion that has since become something I hold firmly: I cannot maintain a bond with someone around whom I do not feel safe enough to establish boundaries. If I cannot tell someone when they have hurt me or overstepped, then the relationship is not built on the kind of mutual respect I need. That realization did not make me feel weak; it made me feel clear. This experience taught me something I now carry into every relationship I choose to nurture. My time, my energy, my humor, my presence, these are things I give willingly to people who value them. I do not owe anyone my friendship simply because history or proximity has put us in the same circle. A relationship that consistently costs me more than it gives me is not one I am obligated to maintain. I learned that protecting my peace is not selfishness. It is self-respect. Do I wish I had handled it differently in the moment? Honestly, yes. I wish I had spoken up, not to cause a scene, but simply to be seen. There is a version of this story where I pull him aside and say, calmly and directly, "Hey, I've noticed you repeat my jokes without crediting me. It bothers me more than you might realize." That conversation could have gone any number of ways. But I never gave it the chance to go anywhere at all, and that is the part I carry with some regret. If I were faced with the same situation again, I would try to do it differently, at least at first. I would attempt to speak up, to name what was happening, and then pay close attention to how it was received. If I felt genuinely heard and respected, I would extend grace and give the person an opportunity to change. People do not always realize when they are doing harm, and sometimes naming the problem is enough to fix it. But if I voiced my feelings and was dismissed, minimized, or made to feel ridiculous for having them, I would not hesitate to protect my energy. I would draw that boundary quietly and redirect my investment toward people who see me fully...jokes, voice, and all. The funniest thing about this whole experience is that it was never really about the jokes. It was about visibility, respect, and the right to take up space. I have earned that right. And I refuse to ghost-write my way through friendships that were never truly mine to begin with.

My childhood battle with undiagnosed anxiety and ADHD was difficult, especially during times of financial struggles. While my mom was worried about bills and housing, I struggled with understanding what was “wrong” with me. This led to added stress and emotional turmoil, which led to problems more deeply rooted than just finances. Life was rough for me at that time, so I can only imagine how rough it was for my mom. Despite these issues, the main things that helped me rise above setbacks and obstacles were my artistic passion and my loving family. Growing up in a single-parent household, things were always rough financially, whether I knew it or not. As a child, I grew up with the magic of illustration. Whether it was books or cartoons, whimsical drawings would take me to worlds I never thought of. They’d spark inspiration I wouldn’t have even dared to imagine. And that sparked my love of drawing and film/TV. I didn’t need fancy markers or drawing utensils to continue my passion at a young age; I just needed the basics. Which was great, because that’s all I had. Throughout elementary school, signs of social anxiety and ADHD started popping up. I wanted desperately to be a good kid and help my mom, who was visibly stressed. But it seemed like everything I did to help just made things worse. I had trouble sitting still, remembering instructions, and keeping up with my things, seemingly much more than the average kid my age. I wondered what was “wrong” with me and why I was a “bad kid” even though I was trying so hard to be a good one. And then, on top of my continuing struggle of being undiagnosed, in my last year of elementary school, I became homeless. It seemed like life went from bad to worse, with no signs of relief. I didn’t know it at the time, and I only really registered it later, but we were without a home for a few years. Without my family, I would’ve felt the effects of being homeless more profoundly. We had to move from place to place, but each place was with a loving and welcoming family member. This helped soothe our financial struggles, although it was a major setback emotionally for my mom. I had to be enrolled in online school due to how frequently we changed homes, and online school isn’t effective for learning with ADHD. I struggled with distractions, and with my grades dropping, my mom was even more stressed than she originally was. I had lost contact with friends from elementary school, and I felt isolated. This cycle of getting in trouble, even though I tried very hard not to, weighed on my mental health and self-confidence during middle school. My saving grace during this time was my growing love for film/TV. I didn’t see much of myself in what I watched and loved, but when I did, it made my heart soar, a beautiful distraction but also a beautiful motivation. Seeing myself in films and TV shows made me feel like I could do anything. I could see characters who were what I wanted to be and looked up to them. I also saw characters go through hardships and how things worked out in the end for them because they didn’t give up. Because of the positive impact these forms of media had on me, I wanted to share this feeling with other people going through similar situations. Feeling seen and heard through film/TV, even if they weren’t talking to me specifically, was the emotional support I needed while my mom was occupied financially supporting us. When I started high school, my mom and I were doing better financially. Still shaky at times, yet much more stable than we were. With the help of a family member, I was able to get counseling and diagnose my ADHD properly. Outside of the classroom, clarity of my condition soothed many internal battles, and I was able to feel more helpful with my mom as we both learned how to better manage my condition. And inside the classroom, I received accommodations to help bridge the gap my condition causes. I was able to graduate with a 4.0 as a dual magnet student, taking numerous honors, AP, and dual enrollment college courses. And I was a leader at my school, as President of my chapter’s National Art Honor Society and a teaching assistant for Spanish III Honors. Through art-related classes, volunteer work, a summer job, and my free time, I continued working on my passion for drawing and won several awards for my art. Overall, this experience of emotional turmoil mixed with dealing with financial issues led me to want an escape. I learned the importance of motivation and inspiration for someone going through a dark time. Without it, I mentally would’ve had a much harder time dealing with life’s struggles. I aspire to be that motivation and inspiration for others going through tough times. Through my studies, I hope to pursue my passion for the arts and film/TV at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) as an illustration major, with a concentration in visual development, and a minor in art direction for film/TV, to pass on the feeling that kept me going. I look forward to paying my family back through my passions. Most importantly, paying my mom back for her hard work and perseverance through trials and tribulations in numerous areas of her life. By including diverse representation in the projects, such as children’s books, comics, cartoons, TV shows, or movies, I want to share the light that helped me rise above my life’s hardships.

Taking on the role of President of my school’s National Art Honors Society (NAHS) chapter was an experience that not only enhanced my leadership skills but also empowered my peers to assert their own capabilities. At the beginning of my senior year, I noticed that while many of my fellow officers exhibited raw potential, they often struggled to fully embrace their responsibilities. However, I believed that with the right guidance and support, we could transition from a collection of individuals to a cohesive team, capable of achieving great things together. The beginning was rough. I felt alone in my excitement and dedication to make the year great. I’d assign tasks that would be halfway done or not at all. And simple tasks that should be obvious for the role required specific and detailed instructions. I felt defeated and, at times, wanted to step down. After getting advice from professional leaders, I focused on understanding each officer’s strengths and weaknesses. By taking the time to communicate in ways that resonated with each of them, I was able to assign tasks that played into their individual strengths. This approach fostered an environment of trust and collaboration, enabling us to support each other in areas where we each had room for growth. For instance, one officer displayed creativity and amazing artistic expression. I encouraged them to lead the artistic aspects of our events, allowing their natural talent to shine. In contrast, I took note of officers who thrived in organization and logistics, assigning them tasks that played to their strengths, such as event coordination and communication. This strategic division of labor not only clarified roles but also built trust and accountability among the officers. As we continued to work together throughout the year, I focused on promoting open communication and regular feedback. By fostering a culture where each officer felt comfortable sharing ideas and concerns, I was able to create an engaged and motivated leadership body. As a direct consequence of this supportive environment, my peers began to exhibit greater confidence in their capabilities. They became proactive in leading events, inspiring participation, and contributing creatively to our objectives. I noticed a shift in how my peers interacted with the rest of the chapter members as well. They became more confident and engaged leaders. Their transformation from hesitant leaders to empowered decision-makers has not only been rewarding to witness but also a sign of the positive impact we can have on one another. In conclusion, taking on the leadership role in the NAHS was a transformative experience, not just for me but for my peers as well. By understanding and utilizing the unique strengths of each officer, I have effectively guided and supported my team. Together, we enhanced not only our leadership skills but also created a lasting impact on our chapter and its contributions to our school and community. The lessons learned will undoubtedly carry on, inspiring future leaders long after my term. I am confident that, as we learned from our experiences that year, our chapter will continue to thrive in the future. I look forward to seeing how the skills we worked on together that year will help the underclassmen who will serve in leadership positions in the years to come.

My favorite local community event that I have participated in has been volunteering with HeadCount. HeadCount is a national organization that provided nonpartisanship voter registration assistance mostly at popular cultural events, like music concerts and festivals. Not only is the perk of being able to enjoy the event once our shift is over great motivation, but I also volunteer with my mom, so that makes it even more special. But what I value the most from the experience is being able to help my community engage in the political process. I’ve been able to volunteer at the concert of R&B singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys, a live showing of the travel game show Urban Trivia Game, as well as the annual celebrity football game of rapper Quavo from the rap group the Migos. Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voice when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a cohesive community, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. We must research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. I look forward to volunteering once I’m in college, and beyond even then. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to help more people register to vote and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for my community by voting when I am of age. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed.

Growing up in a single-parent household, while I also had ADHD and anxiety, there were constant struggles. Despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but that’s all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safeguard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school’s National Art Honor Society. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded the Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on NSHS’s literary magazine, “Echo.” I was also able to use my love for art to volunteer in my community during this time. At the Center for Puppetry Arts, I help kids create puppets and educate them on the art form. Juggling my volunteer responsibilities and my academic life is a challenge, but I maintained a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to my community. Although financial constraints still limit me, my commitment to my education, self-improvement, and helping others drives me. Attending SCAD will provide me with the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art to help my community. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most. The best advice I have for others facing the same circumstances: Embrace your talents, and use them to help yourself and others.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age, instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to evoke emotions, from a very young age, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. As I move on to the next step of my learning journey at the Savannah College of Art and Design’s (SCAD) robust art program, I hope to discover my unique place in the art community. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I’d perform puppet shows so enthralling that one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween, any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as, because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins, and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. My goal is to major in illustration, with a concentration in visual development, and minor in art direction for film/TV at SCAD, so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way that others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

There is a particular kind of vision that great literature gives you, in not just ideas, but images. When I first encountered Maya Angelou's words, I didn't simply read them. I saw them. Her language arrived in high contrast, in the stark and luminous vocabulary of shadow and light, as though she'd always been composing not just for the ear, but for the eye. It seemed almost inevitable, then, that I'd one day reach for a scratchboard, an art form that speaks entirely in black and white, and attempt to render her in the very medium her words already inhabited. Scratchboard is an unforgiving medium, and I say that as someone who has spent long hours hunched over it, stylus in hand. You begin with pure darkness, a clay-coated board lacquered in black, and you draw by removing, scratching away ink to reveal the white beneath. Every mark is an act of excavation. There is no painting over mistakes, no second chances. In this way, the medium demands a particular courage, and it's that same courage I recognized in Angelou's writing. She, too, worked through what had been laid over her, layers of silence, pain, and erasure, and carved light from beneath it all. When I first understood that parallel, I knew scratchboard was the only honest way to portray her. The inspiration came when I'd been rereading passages from "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings" one winter evening when the quality of the prose struck me differently than it ever had before. Her imagery was inherently tonal: the red Oklahoma dust, the white missionary dresses, the deep brown hands of her grandmother. But stripped of color in my mind's eye, those images resolved into something even more powerful, pure contrast, pure form. Her sentences moved like light through slats: bright, then dark, then bright again. I reached for a stylus before I fully understood why. I worked from a photograph that captured what I can only call her regalness. She sat upright, unhurried, a woman entirely at home in her own presence. I began as the medium demands, in darkness, mapping the large shapes of shadow that defined her face: the strong architecture of her brow, the composed set of her jaw, the knowing stillness in her eyes. Then, line by deliberate line, I scratched light into existence. The strokes that described her skin, the soft crosshatching of texture, the fine lines around her eyes that spoke not of age but of accumulated wisdom, each one felt less like a technical decision and more like an act of listening. I wasn't drawing Maya Angelou so much as I was trying to hear her. What emerged on that board was not simply a likeness, it was a presence. The finished portrait seemed to breathe with the same quality her writing does: something enormous held, with perfect composure, just beneath the surface. Working in only black and white, I found that her face carried everything, grief transmuted into grace, struggle transfigured into sovereignty. The absence of color, rather than diminishing her, distilled her. She appeared as she always had in her words: elemental, luminous, and inescapable. To make a scratchboard portrait is to understand in the hands what Angelou understood in the bones: that light isn't given, it's won. You must work through the dark to find it, one careful mark at a time. Her words taught me that long before I picked up a stylus. When I finally set the finished board down and looked at what I'd made, I felt, more than anything, grateful. She'd shown me how.

Growing up, whenever my heart would feel something strongly, it would be difficult for me to find the words and confidence to express it. But I could always write or draw how I felt. That came easily. I thank my mom for instilling in me the love of books, because that's what made all the difference in me discovering my voice and myself. Picture books initially inspired me to become an artist. Once I got older, fiction and nonfiction books, over time, helped improve my vocabulary to better communicate my feelings and gain confidence in doing so. And literacy has not only helped me maintain great grades in school, but has also helped me advocate for myself. My first introduction to books was as a toddler. My mom amassed a mini library of children’s books for me to enjoy. Even before I could read, the way picture books visually convey plot and themes helped me comprehend complex ideas. Two of my favorite children’s books with expressive pictures are “please, baby, please,” by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee, and the Sesame Street classic, “The Monster at the End of this Book,” by Jon Stone. The beautiful details drawn in these books, and many other picture books I enjoyed at a very young age, aided my comprehension of the words my mom would read to me at bedtime. This was what inspired me to get into drawing my own characters and creating their unique stories. As a child, I would see my mother constantly read news articles and nonfiction books on issues that mattered to her. She would also re-read many of her favorite fiction books that she discovered in her youth. Many of them became some of my favorites too, like “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” by Mildred D. Taylor, and “The Westing Game,” by Ellen Raskin. And we would discover new books to read together, such as “Children of Blood and Bone,” by Tomi Adeyemi. Every summer, we would visit the library at least once a week, and she would assign books to me, both fiction and nonfiction, that she thought I would be interested in. This influence helped me excel in school despite struggling with ADHD and generalized anxiety. My mom has always been assured and confident in voicing her opinions, no matter where she was speaking or who she was speaking to, and always has the research and knowledge to back it up factually. But, because of my anxiety, I found it hard to advocate for myself. Anytime I tried to speak up for myself, I would frequently think about what was the point in wasting my energy when no one was listening or cared? So, my safe space was in reading, writing, and drawing. However, I found through books like “The Hate U Give,” by Angie Thomas, and “All The Black Girls are Activists,” by ebonyjanice, the push to not give up on myself. “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This quote by Zora Neale Hurston emphasizes the importance of using my words. Self-advocacy is not an easy feat for me; reading books that represented who I was pushed me to grow into who I am. With this award, I'd fund my education in illustration and creative writing. I hope to create works of art from my experience growing up that will help kids develop a love of literacy early on, as I did, and it continues for a lifetime. And I hope little Black girls find my books and are inspired to advocate for themselves.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight, and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school, it was even harder because I had to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and busing in from a different school zone, my commute was around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wandering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me, leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me, holding up their being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that often seems against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment, where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities and mental health struggles.

A trance describes it best. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as “Tom and Jerry” captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a preschooler struggling with ADHD. It was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to evoke emotions, from a very young age, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Little did I know, this moment was the spark to my dream career. To achieve my goal of forming my own artistic voice to create my own unique project, I need to fail, ask questions, and experience. Failing isn’t easy. A lot of people would rather string something together that isn’t their best, but hey, better than nothing. To let go and admit that you failed is the first step to real growth. To really advance in skill and potentially develop a specialized skill, you have to fail. Without failing in some way or admitting to failure, my teacher wouldn’t acknowledge my mediocre assignment. Being mediocre doesn’t get you a job in this dwindling industry. Being at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I’m surrounded by a space of creatives that will cushion my falls and help me grow. All my failures won’t feel like a permanent setback because I’m around those who have failed in their own ways. As I fail, I feel comfortable asking those around me for further guidance on my journey towards my goal. Anxiety and asking questions in public spaces don’t mix. Unfortunately, I’m blessed with this oil-and-water mixture. In previous class settings, I would stay confused about a topic when I could simply raise my hand and ask. Asking questions for further knowledge about something is a powerful tool in education that needs to be utilized. Without asking questions, how can a teacher know what you’re confused about? Despite being used to figuring things out on my own, art is something I need to learn through an experienced person. These experienced teachers can provide more than just answers to questions, but they can also provide wise advice for my future endeavors. Some questions can’t always be answered, but they can be shown through experience. Gaining experience allows me to learn about different cultures and art techniques. Internships are the perfect opportunity for meeting new people and gaining experience in different fields of interest. I get to work and observe amongst people along my desired career path. I’m able to educate and improve further through real-world interactions and experiences. Throughout this process of reaching my goals, I need to be able to fail and realize when something isn’t for me. I also need to be able to ask questions to understand what I might not have time to experience quite yet. I feel confident that with the current path I’m on, being willing to fail, forcing myself to ask questions, and taking the necessary steps to gain experience, I can reach my goal of developing and showcasing my unique artistic voice. The spark of someone else’s animation inspired me. But I want to create art that not only inspires others to create their own art, it authentically showcases the diversity that exists in our world to inspire all people in every aspect of their lives. I know it’s a tall task and seems like a “pie in the sky” dream, but who knows, maybe there’s a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

I believe the question that we, as the collective, are failing to ask when strategizing to secure generational liberation from oppression is how to protect it. I constantly hear people list what we need to do or have never done, like work together, focus on education, or build wealth in our communities, when I don't believe any of that to be true. There a numerous examples throughout history of the collective doing everything that I've ever heard people say we need to do. But in each and every instance, we were attacked by those who benefit from our continued oppression. Sometimes those attacks came from individuals or small groups. Other times, they came from mobs of people or local institutions. And there have been times when they came from large governing bodies or federal institutions. I believe that any efforts that we work on currently or in the future should include a plan for protecting those efforts while they are being developed, implemented, and once successful, from being stopped or reversed. And it is important for us to remember that history shows us that those attacks can even come from those inside the collective, especially when they are compromised by those outside of the collective. Figuring out who would benefit from our efforts to achieve generational liberation from oppression failing, what would their likely strategy be to prevent our achievement of that goal, and how we can best protect our progress, won't be easy. But I'm convinced it is absolutely necessary.

My favorite local community event that I have participated in has been volunteering with HeadCount. HeadCount is a national organization that provides nonpartisan voter registration assistance mostly at popular cultural events, like music concerts and festivals. Not only is the perk of being able to enjoy the event once our shift is over great motivation, but I volunteer with my mom, so that makes it even more special. Because, now that I'm in college and I don't spend as much time with her, I appreciate the memories we are able to make helping others. But what I value the most from the experience is being able to help my community engage in the political process. I’ve been able to volunteer at the concert of R&B singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys, a live showing of the travel game show Urban Trivia Game, as well as the annual celebrity football game of rapper Quavo from the rap group the Migos. Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voice when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive community, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount in college, I hope to help more people register to vote and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I am very excited to be able to contribute to advocating for my community by voting now that I am of age. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed.

A trance describes it best. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Instead of a new show for kids my age, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to evoke emotions, from a very young age, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately, I once used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I’d perform puppet shows so enthralling that one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger. Throughout school, I’d constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework had doodles in the margins, and I didn’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. One of the most influential people in my life is my mom. Even though she isn’t an artist, she not only let me pursue my creative passions, but she also encouraged them. A lot of parents force their kids to pursue career paths in more traditional fields like medicine, law, or business. She has encouraged me verbally throughout my life, and through her efforts to find opportunities for art education, she helps me achieve my goals and perfect my skills. I’ve seen the sacrifices she has made so that I could participate in these opportunities and gain valuable experiences and connections. There’s not a relevant type of art camp I haven’t attended or an art supply that I’ve asked for that hasn’t been provided. Even the support that comes from my other family, she is the one who gave them art-related suggestions when they asked for gift ideas, and she would ask for their help when it was something I needed that she couldn't afford. Also, she constantly makes sure that no matter the size of the accomplishment, she informs my entire family so that they can all cheer me on or congratulate me. It’s refreshing and comforting to know that I am so supported and not made to feel like my career path is less than important or valued to her. I am extremely grateful to have that unconditional, non-judgmental support, especially from her, because as an only child, she is the closest person to me. I try to consistently look for ways to thank her and express my gratitude. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I’m majoring in illustration, with a concentration in visual development, and minoring in art direction for film/TV at SCAD. My goal is to be able to showcase my passion in a way that others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Growing up, whenever my heart would feel something strongly, it would be difficult for me to find the words and confidence to express it. But I could always write or draw how I felt. That came easily. I thank my mom for instilling in me the love of books, because that's what made all the difference in me discovering my voice and myself. Picture books initially inspired me to become an artist. Once I got older, fiction and nonfiction books, over time, helped improve my vocabulary to better communicate my feelings and gain confidence in doing so. And literacy has not only helped me maintain great grades in school, but has also helped me advocate for myself. My first introduction to books was as a toddler. My mom amassed a mini library of children’s books for me to enjoy. Even before I could read, the way picture books visually convey plot and themes helped me comprehend complex ideas. Two of my favorite children’s books with expressive pictures are “please, baby, please,” by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee, and the Sesame Street classic, “The Monster at the End of this Book,” by Jon Stone. The beautiful details drawn in these books, and many other picture books I enjoyed at a very young age, aided my comprehension of the words my mom would read to me at bedtime. This was what inspired me to get into drawing my own characters and creating their unique stories. As a child, I would see my mother constantly read news articles and nonfiction books on issues that mattered to her. She would also re-read many of her favorite fiction books that she discovered in her youth. Many of them became some of my favorites too, like “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” by Mildred D. Taylor, and “The Westing Game,” by Ellen Raskin. And we would discover new books to read together, such as “Children of Blood and Bone,” by Tomi Adeyemi. Every summer, we would visit the library at least once a week, and she would assign books to me, both fiction and nonfiction, that she thought I would be interested in. This influence helped me excel in school despite struggling with ADHD and generalized anxiety. My mom has always been assured and confident in voicing her opinions, no matter where she was speaking or who she was speaking to, and always has the research and knowledge to back it up factually. But, because of my anxiety, I found it hard to advocate for myself. Anytime I tried to speak up for myself, I would frequently think about what was the point in wasting my energy when no one was listening or cared? So, my safe space was in reading, writing, and drawing. However, I found through books like “The Hate U Give,” by Angie Thomas, and “All The Black Girls are Activists,” by ebonyjanice, the push to not give up on myself. “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This quote by Zora Neale Hurston emphasizes the importance of using my words. Self-advocacy is not an easy feat for me; reading books that represented who I was pushed me to grow into who I am. With this award, I'd fund my education in illustration and creative writing. I hope to create works of art from my experience growing up that will help kids develop a love of literacy early on, as I did, and it continues for a lifetime. And I hope little Black girls find my books and are inspired to advocate for themselves.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight, and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school, it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and busing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wandering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me, leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me, holding up their being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that often seems against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment, where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities and mental health struggles.

Growing up in a single-parent household, while I also had ADHD and anxiety, there were constant struggles. Despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but that's all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safeguard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school’s National Art Honor Society. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded the Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on NSHS’s literary magazine, “Echo.” I was also able to use my love for art to volunteer in my community during this time. At the Center for Puppetry Arts, I help kids create puppets and educate them on the art form. Juggling my volunteer responsibilities and my academic life is a challenge, but I maintained a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to my community. Although financial constraints still limit me, my commitment to my education, self-improvement, and helping others drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult not to be hindered by economic limitations. Attending SCAD will provide me with the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art to help my community. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

Community service is a grounding aspect of my life and is my outlet for using my voice to help my community. Through volunteering at the Atlanta Zoo, Center for Puppetry Arts, and Headcount, I’ve learned how to use my voice in the present while I’m still developing the skills to use my voice through my art in the future. Whether my voice is used to educate, to assist, or to care, I find it vital that I can help my community now. Education is crucial to young development and positively progressing our community. At the Atlanta Zoo, I would assist in educational scavenger hunts and relay facts about certain animals during my time. Sharing knowledge was beautiful to witness, and I hope it left a lasting impact on guests. For the Center of Puppetry Arts, I get a similar experience, educating with a more artistic twist. By making samples of puppets and instructing kids to make their own, I see their creativity work in real time, and I get the pleasure of even inspiring them with my ideas. At Headcount, the focus is more on young adults and older adults. I’m able to spread the word about our right to vote and encourage young voters to exercise that right. More people with the eligibility to vote are a way for the community to positively progress through elections. Assisting people contributes way more than one might assume. While at the Center for Puppetry Arts, I greet guests and assist them through wayfinding. I have noticed that kind and understanding assistance has made people’s day easier. This is the same case in volunteering at the Atlanta Zoo. I would help way find and help guests with any troubles they had. Knowing that parents taking their children to these establishments are already stressed makes me feel better knowing I could help them have a better experience. At Headcount, assisting people to exercise their right to vote is incredibly important to a healthy community. By assisting these people, there’s a feeling of caring for them as well. Showing that you care about a person, even if they are a stranger, is powerful. No one ever truly knows what someone is going through or how they are currently feeling. Being kind and caring towards someone can save someone’s life. With how powerful showing you care is to people, it would be incredibly powerful to have a community of people that show they care. I try my best to implement this in the way that I educate and assist people at the Atlanta Zoo, Center for Puppetry Arts, and Headcount. While doing all of these things in the present to help my community, I want to develop media that also contributes positively to my community. I want to use my voice to shine a light on those who aren’t accurately represented in the media, whether that's their race, ethnicity, skin tone, or even personality type. Being inspired by the beauty of uniqueness, I want to highlight unique traits that aren’t represented as often as I see in real life. This would give a better perspective and understanding of not only my community but also many others. Overall, currently using my voice through volunteering makes me feel as though I’m making a change in my community. The change may not be big, but the fact that I can use my voice to educate, assist, and care for others is fulfilling. I look forward to amplifying my voice through my art in the future and helping my community further.

As a little Black girl growing up with big dreams, dozens of papers filled with doodles, and a box of broken crayons, “The Princess and the Frog” movie meant the world to me. I was 2.5 years old when I first saw it in the theater on the release day. My mom said it was the first movie I watched from beginning to end in one viewing. As soon as she could, my mom bought the DVD so I could watch it anytime I wanted. Besides the humor and the magic of Disney, and sharing a similar name with the lead, I kept watching the movie for two reasons. One, the art style was beautiful. The art fully engrossed me in the world of the film and had a prominent personality. It stood apart from other films released around the same time. Two, there was a natural sense of diversity within the film. I felt represented in the best way, and little me could see myself as a hardworking and smart princess. This movie shaped what I wanted to create for the world and for my community. “The Princess and the Frog” was the second-to-last Disney movie to be animated in 2-D. Since 2011, Disney has stuck to 3-D animation for their major films. While 3-D animation is beautiful, the distinct personalities and art styles once seen as standard in animated films have slowly dwindled away. I want to revive the big media usage of 2-D animation. I grew up with other Disney films that were amazing in storytelling and had beautiful art, such as “Tangled” and “Moana.” However, it was “The Princess and the Frog” that stayed on repeat in my home. I hope to bring back the magic of 2-D animation to inspire someone, just like me growing up, with a new and different style to look at, as compared to what is available, while also introducing them to the nostalgia of an art style from the past. The diversity of the movie was amazing. The research put into the look and culture of New Orleans and of African Americans shone through, and I felt well represented. Although I’m not from New Orleans, being a southern African American girl with a similar complexion to Tiana, it meant a lot to see myself on screen. It made me feel like I could dream big, too. This led me to my big dream of wanting to share this feeling with others who are underrepresented or misrepresented. Many uses of diversity today feel forced and not accurate. It seems like the characters are checking a box instead of being an authentic part of the story. I purposefully avoid this when writing my own stories and designing my own characters. Whether it is a character with a disability, LGBTIQ+ identity, ethnicity, or other, I want those in that community to feel how I felt when I watched Tiana. Overall, “The Princess and the Frog” is a generationally great movie, and even at a young age, I recognized the impact it had on me. The art dazzled me, and the representation inspired me. The movie still means a lot to me and has helped shape my future goals. I started creating my own characters and stories only a couple of years later and still do. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I’m seeing my big dreams become a reality. I hope to inspire others from different walks of life the same way “The Princess and the Frog” inspired me.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, while I also struggled with ADHD and generalized anxiety. But my early years were also filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This became my safe space and ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but that's all I needed. Unfortunately, I once used them to draw a large dinosaur on my bedroom floor. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences and community. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. Despite my struggles, I was able to win numerous academic and art-related awards, volunteer for about 10 hours per month, and maintain a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to others. My goal is to create diverse characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. I want to provide what I’ve received, a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, while I also struggled with ADHD and generalized anxiety. But my early years were also filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This became my safe space and ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but that's all I needed. Unfortunately, I once used them to draw a large dinosaur on my bedroom floor. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences and community. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. Despite my struggles, I was able to win numerous academic and art-related awards, volunteer for about 10 hours per month, and maintain a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to others. My goal is to create diverse characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. I want to provide what I’ve received, a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, while I also struggled with ADHD and generalized anxiety. But my early years were also filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This became my safe space and ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but that's all I needed. Unfortunately, I once used them to draw a large dinosaur on my bedroom floor. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences and community. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. Despite my struggles, I was able to win numerous academic and art-related awards, volunteer for about 10 hours per month, and maintain a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to others. My goal is to create diverse characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. I want to provide what I’ve received, a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age.

“Would you rather have one parent or two?” A question that most would answer similarly. Growing up in a single-parent household, I became conscious of the negative portrayal of single-parent families within movies, TV shows and social media. This poor representation led to feelings of inadequacy and insecurity. While I do recognize that it’s usually ideal for children to be raised with both parents, it’s important to acknowledge that single-parent households and blended families are increasingly common. This has inspired me to create my own characters and stories to counter this negative portrayal. In an age where representation matters more than ever, it’s crucial for media to evolve and reflect the realities of modern family life, including the many diverse forms that family can take. Currently, when the media does choose to portray single-parent households, it often highlights only the struggles associated with them. Whether it be financial difficulties, emotional tolls, or negative societal perceptions. These portrayals often fail to capture the complexity and beauty of these family dynamics. Children who come from single-parent homes, like me, grow up feeling a sense of shame or inadequacy, believing that their family structure is less valid than those where both parents are present. This can also lead to guilt in parents who may feel they’re failing their children by not providing a "traditional" family structure. Positive representation in media can offer a sense of empowerment to single parents who may feel marginalized or overlooked. It’s never normally in a parent’s plans to be a single parent. Positive representation gives a sense of consoling for someone’s circumstances, whereas negative representation rubs salt into already fresh wounds. Life is not perfect, and families in life are often formed out of circumstances that exceed our control; acknowledging this reality in popular media can help to normalize single-parent households and blended families, allowing for a more positive and accepting outlook of different dynamics and circumstances within families. With my artistic talents, I aspire to create stories that illuminate these relationships, showcasing the love, warmth, and resilience that exist within single-parent households. I was heavily influenced in this goal by media that breaks this stereotype, like the relationship between Master Splinter and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Their story offers a refreshing perspective on family, portraying the bond between a father figure and his “adopted” sons amidst trials and tribulations. Master Splinter's dedication to teaching and nurturing the Turtles showcases the love, loyalty, and strength that can arise from non-traditional family settings. It served as a reminder to me that family isn’t just defined by traditional structures, but rather by the love and commitment that individuals contribute to their familial relationships. Through the guidance and mentorship of Master Splinter, the Turtles find their self-confidence through identity and purpose. Likewise, I believe my mother has been instrumental in not only helping me develop as a person and an artist, but she has connected me with other parental figures who have been just as influential in my growth. To conclude, as our world continues evolving, so should the narratives we create and consume. By promoting positive depictions of single-parent households and blended families, we can aid in dismantling negative stereotypes and shame, and instead contribute to a more inclusive society. Every child is deserving of seeing their family reflected in the stories they love, reminding them that love, commitment, and resilience are at the heart of what makes a family, regardless of its structure. I hope to create narratives in the media that I wish I saw more of growing up.

Community service is a grounding aspect of my life and is my outlet for using my voice to help my community. Through volunteering at the Atlanta Zoo, Center for Puppetry Arts, and Headcount, I’ve learned how to use my voice in the present while I’m still developing the skills to use my voice through my art in the future. Whether my voice is used to educate, to assist, or to care, I find it vital that I can help my community now. Education is crucial to young development and positively progressing our community. At the Atlanta Zoo, I would assist in educational scavenger hunts and relay facts about certain animals during my time. Sharing knowledge was beautiful to witness, and I hope it left a lasting impact on guests. For the Center of Puppetry Arts, I get a similar experience, educating with a more artistic twist. By making samples of puppets and instructing kids to make their own, I see their creativity work in real time, and I get the pleasure of even inspiring them with my ideas. At Headcount, the focus is more on young adults and older adults. I’m able to spread the word about our right to vote and encourage young voters to exercise that right. More people with the eligibility to vote are a way for the community to positively progress through elections. Assisting people contributes way more than one might assume. While at the Center for Puppetry Arts, I greet guests and assist them through wayfinding. I have noticed that kind and understanding assistance has made people’s day easier. This is the same case in volunteering at the Atlanta Zoo. I would help way find and help guests with any troubles they had. Knowing that parents taking their children to these establishments are already stressed makes me feel better knowing I could help them have a better experience. At Headcount, assisting people to exercise their right to vote is incredibly important to a healthy community. By assisting these people, there’s a feeling of caring for them as well. Showing that you care about a person, even if they are a stranger, is powerful. No one ever truly knows what someone is going through or how they are currently feeling. Being kind and caring towards someone can save someone’s life. With how powerful showing you care is to people, it would be incredibly powerful to have a community of people that show they care. I try my best to implement this in the way that I educate and assist people at the Atlanta Zoo, Center for Puppetry Arts, and Headcount. While doing all of these things in the present to help my community, I want to develop media that also contributes positively to my community. I want to use my voice to shine a light on those who aren’t accurately represented in the media, whether that's their race, ethnicity, skin tone, or even personality type. Being inspired by the beauty of uniqueness, I want to highlight unique traits that aren’t represented as often as I see in real life. This would give a better perspective and understanding of not only my community but also many others. Overall, currently using my voice through volunteering makes me feel as though I’m making a change in my community. The change may not be big, but the fact that I can use my voice to educate, assist, and care for others is fulfilling. I look forward to amplifying my voice through my art in the future and helping my community further.

There are so many different cultures, experiences, and personalities in our world. Everyone being so unique is very inspiring to me. Especially when it comes to creating my own characters. The fact that people can feel the same thing completely differently even when they’re put in the same exact situation is so fascinating and beautiful to me. Unfortunately, there are people who have beautiful and interesting things to contribute to the world who aren’t represented nearly as often as others. I’m inspired to shine a light on those who aren’t accurately represented in the media currently, whether it's because of their race, ethnicity, skin tone, or even personality type. Being inspired by the beauty of uniqueness, I want to shed light on unique traits that aren’t represented as often on screen as I see them in real life.

Building credit is essential to me as a person of color, especially as an artist who will have to become a professional in the world of AI. Given my current financial disadvantage, I want to do what I can now to ensure my financial future is stable. Experiencing homelessness in my late elementary school and early middle school years was hard on my mom and me. Seeing my mom struggle financially and learning from her mistakes motivates me to not be in that position when I have a family. It also fueled my love for art, because it was my safe place and way to escape. I understand that financial instability can result from external factors, but I want to do everything in my power to set myself up for when those external factors arise. From my experience with financial hardships, I have learned how important credit is for young adults. This is why I asked to have a credit card under my dad’s account. When I pay for books, school and art supplies, and groceries in college, all of it will count toward building my credit score. Although my purchases aren’t large, by the time I graduate after 4 years, my credit score will have a head start once I’m an adult. With more credit, I will be eligible for better housing, better vehicles, and, most importantly, better jobs. This buildup of credit over time will, in theory, give me a better chance at financial stability in a system that isn’t designed for me to thrive financially, and the uncertainty of a career in the artistic field. In addition to building credit, I am also creating interest in my savings. For graduation, I put most of my financial gifts into a CD that lasts 4 years. This way, that money would build over time. A weight will be lifted off my shoulders knowing I have emergency funds and enough money to get adequate housing on my own after graduation. Although it would be nice to immediately get into a great career in my field, I’m willing to go into teaching art as I continue to work on my own artwork as a backup. I hope that, even if I start with a low income, I will be secure enough to get my feet off the ground post-graduation. With the money that I’ve amassed, I’m also able to better save and budget for my basic needs. The combination of building credit and saving funds will help me tremendously in the future. Overall, learning from my past financial hardship growing up has taught me always to be prepared. Life is unpredictable, and while there is beauty in uncertainty that I see as an artist, there’s also conflict. When conflicts beyond my control arise, I want to be as prepared as I can to bounce back from life’s trials and tribulations. By building my credit and growing my wealth, I look forward to having a head start financially toward a better life. Regarding my financial future, I want not only to be economically stable, but also to continue fostering financial literacy for future generations in my family and positively influence others with my art.

To make mental health care affordable and accessible to anyone who needs support, I would require all wealthy companies to finance mental health counseling for members of the communities they exploit and their families. So many of our goods are made by companies that exploit people who live in underdeveloped neighborhoods or countries because many of them are desperate for ways to make money for their basic needs. These people, including children, who provide stable manufacturing and low labor costs to companies that are profiting in the millions and trillions, face dire and tragic situations while they are working demanding jobs with few resources. The stress of laboriously working and being a provider for their family and communities negatively impacts their mental health, and they are often unable to help with mental health issues present in their family and communities. Making companies pay for the benefit they receive from desperate low-income households through laws and regulations would help a significant part of the world’s workforce and their communities. They give so much to deliver us affordable phones, clothes, and more, and they need more than just low wages in return.

Collaboration leads to creation. With everyone being unique and having different experiences, styles, and ideas, collaboration is bound to make something never before seen. In my field of animated film and television, I strive to create something new and inspiring for a wide range of people. Encouraging a diverse audience and making something new requires collaboration. I also want to bring people together with my art. An example of a collaborative and creative project that brought people together was my school’s Black History Month Show. As the social media manager of my school’s Black Student Association, I was responsible for advertising, informing students, and gathering them. With this experience, I got input from many different people. This collaboration of ideas brought students together as they watched a performance that used students' talents for education. While I gathered student singers, dancers, and poets, the team gathered students who worked behind the scenes. The team collaborated with the film club to film the event, the theatre club to work on the stage lights and microphones, and the African Culture Club for dancers and music. This blend of cultures, experiences, and even expertise created an entertaining and educational show for the school. The way the show turned out, after all the trials and tribulations of its making, made me realize how powerful creative collaboration is. I also learned that to inspire, I need more than just my experiences. To inspire, I’d need to find talented storytellers and artists to pour their personal stories into characters that reflect groups of people yet to be accurately represented. My dream is achievable with the mix of different backgrounds, experiences, and ideas. Many of the people I want to specifically inspire through my art have experiences different from mine. For example, I want to shine light on minorities who are not fair-skinned. In a lot of Asian media, only those who are fair-skinned are shown, and those who are more tan aren't represented fairly. Personally, I can relate to colorism; however, I cannot relate to being Asian. With this, I would need someone with these experiences so that when the script turns to screen, it is authentic and accurate. Often, when studios create content about a culture and don’t include people from that culture in its creation, it’s not as inspiring or culturally accurate as it could be. Moana is an amazing example of a project that inspired a Polynesian culture that isn’t accurately represented often, but still served as an inspiring and beautiful movie for those outside of their culture. To conclude, I hope to use my past and future collaborative experiences to eventually create something the world can enjoy. Media has always been an important part of my life, and accurate representation has always made me feel seen and heard in times when I felt invisible. I aspire to make a change within modern media’s version of diversity and bring accurate representation for those who are still left unnoticed. I am ecstatic to meet my future team of diverse artists and creatives who will make this happen.

The Underlying Meaning of “Be Near Me” To the naked eye, this is just a beautifully written poem about love and longing in the night. Upon first reading, I concluded that the poem had an underlying theme of the night's emotional effect on the writer and how it amplified the feelings of love and longing, but I felt like there had to be more. The meaning that lies even deeper beneath the surface is based on the author's history of subjects for his poems. He often wrote political poems, and that’s what made me shift my understanding. The underlying meaning of the poem, “Be Near Me,” by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, is that love is the strongest hope in crisis. I concluded this based on the political state of Faiz’s hometown, Siakolt, his personification of the night, and his diction. To start, in 1987, Faiz published a collection of poems from that year. And with his upbringing into poetry through his father being an elite member of a social literary circle, I suspected there must’ve been something happening in Siakolt during the time of his writing. My suspicions were correct; there was high political turmoil in the region as well as ethnic tensions amongst Mohajirs, Sindhis, Punjabis, and more. Despite his chaotic environment, Faiz's poetry reflects the belief that love serves as a beacon of hope amidst negative external forces. In "Be Near Me," this sentiment suggests that the bonds of affection and connection can provide solace and strength to endure even the most challenging times. His writing reflected this sentiment well through his diction and his personifications. His personification of the night is notable in his underlying meaning. “It’s blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step,” is talking about the night, yet it seems as though it also describes a political climate that is imprisoning and hard to escape. Another quote, “When having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes,” is representative of the numbness felt from constant conflict and how the strong emotion regarding that conflict follows. These personifications reiterate the feeling of hopelessness and despair with his environment. "When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use;” near the end expresses his hopelessness toward the state of his country. He follows this up with, “Be with me,” meaning when things outside of your control take over your life and emotions, love is there as comfort and as hope. His word choice is also notable when understanding his underlying meaning. His use of diction, with words such as “lamentation”, which means the passionate expression of grief or sorrow, represents the political issues he most likely was experiencing in everyday life. Faiz also uses the words “diamond lancets.” A lancet is a blade with a sharp point, and when put together with a diamond, it can be described as glorified or beautiful pain. Typically, conflict is glorified when countries defend or offend other countries. Diamond could also refer to the strength of the pain, given that it’s one of the strongest minerals. With his depiction of the night being painful and emotionally draining for not only himself but also others around him, his source of light is his tormentor and his love. To conclude, Faiz’s beautiful poem delves deeper than just love and longing but into feelings of despair for his current political climate. This is relatable to a lot of people today who are scared, given conflicts around the world and in their homes. This poem stood out for its timelessness and adaptability to many global situations even today. For me, the depth of love being the source of hope amidst dark times is inspiring and makes me appreciate loved ones who keep me positive even more than before. I hope many more people discover his work and, more specifically, his poem, “Be Near Me.” BE NEAR ME by Faiz Ahmed Faiz “Be near me now, My tormenter, my love, be near me— At this hour when night comes down, When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes, With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets, When it comes with cries of lamentation, with laughter with songs; Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step. At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places, Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil, For hands still enfolded in sleeves; When wine being poured makes the sound of inconsolable children, who, though you try with all your heart, cannot be soothed. When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use; —At this hour when night comes down, When night comes, dragging its long face, dressed in mourning, Be with me, My tormenter, my love, be near me.” WORKS CITED: “Be near Me.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 12 Aug. 2019, poets.org/poem/be-near me. “Brass Tacks and Kashmir: India-Pakistan Military Crises in the 1980s.” Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, adst.org/2017/01/brass-tacks-india-pakistan-military-crises/#:~:text=A%20crisis%20between%20India%20and,National%20Security%20Advisor%20Robert%20Gates. Accessed 11 June 2025. “Faiz Ahmed Faiz.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 13 Feb. 2025, poets.org/poet/faiz-ahmed-faiz. Staff, Al Jazeera. “India-Pakistan Tensions: A Brief History of Conflict.” Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 20 May 2025, www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/5/9/india-pakistan-tensions-a-brief-history-of-conflict#:~:text=1980s:%20The%20rebellion%20in%20Kashmir,popular%2C%20anti%2DIndia%20politicians.

I deserve this scholarship because I was able to overcome the biggest educational barrier I’ve ever faced, my neurodivergence struggles, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I learned to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining 504 Plan accommodations, I still struggled with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. My advantage over others applying to this scholarship is that, despite these struggles, I have excelled academically in multiple difficult classes, exhibited leadership in several extracurricular activities, served my community in numerous volunteer hours, and channeled my struggles in a variety of creative ways. In class, I was easily distracted and found my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I found myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I questioned who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rang, I’d only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling, because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I then faced the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I knew it, it would be close to midnight, and I’d be frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school, it was even harder because I had to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and busing in from a different school zone, my commute was around 1 hour each way. Even worse, taking tests, especially standardized tests, seemed impossible. I frequently ran out of time because the slightest noise or movement would send my mind wandering. Plus, not being able to multitask would easily lead to boredom, which resulted in my imagination coming to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety would kick in…as EVERYone seemed to be staring at and whispering about me, holding up their being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on, but for most of it, I was undiagnosed and didn’t understand what was “wrong” with me. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining 504 Plan accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I made significant improvements in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that often seems against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. During my struggles, I was able to graduate from high school with a 4.0 GPA as a dual magnet student, taking numerous honors and AP classes, as well as dual enrollment college courses. I received an AP Scholar Award for achieving a 3 or above on 3 different AP tests. And received over 30 college credit hours with over a 3.0 college GPA while in high school. My cumulative standardized testing scores were 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. Additionally, I was a leader at my school, as President of my chapter’s National Art Honor Society, Social Media Manager for my chapter’s Black Student Association, and a teaching assistant for the Spanish III Honors teacher. In my community, I have consistently volunteered my time. I won the Atlanta Intown magazine’s 20 Under 20 Honoree during my freshman year of high school for my community service activities with the Atlanta Zoo and Center for Puppetry Arts, and was their youngest honoree that year. I also help people register to vote and educate them on the voting process with HeadCount. I created a digital art piece about modern-day slavery, commissioned by my AP Human Geography teacher for CNN’s My Freedom Day, and I was selected to be interviewed by Lynda Kinkade. I express the emotions and experiences from my neurodivergent experiences and struggles in my art. As a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I’m eager to immerse myself in a rigorous and diverse learning environment. My goal is to hone my skills in creating unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will help me afford the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, I hope to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and an inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness in my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safeguard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those who feel voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school, I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school’s National Art Honor Society. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded the Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on NSHS’s literary magazine, “Echo.” I was also able to use my love for art to volunteer in my community during this time. At the Center for Puppetry Arts, I help kids create puppets and educate them on the art form. Juggling my volunteer responsibilities and my academic life is a challenge, but I maintained a 4.0 while taking rigorous honors, AP, and dual enrollment classes. Now, as a freshman at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I remain committed to using art to both rise above my circumstances and give back to my community. Although financial constraints still limit me, my commitment to my education, self-improvement, and helping others drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult not to be hindered by economic limitations. Attending SCAD will provide me with the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art to help my community. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

The biggest struggle I’ve faced as a student is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and have significantly impacted my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I was able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and mental health counselor, I still struggled with taking notes, meeting deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. However, because of my own struggles, I’ve been able to help others who face similar struggles. In class, I was easily distracted and found my focus slipping away constantly. A smell would spark a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I would find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I questioned who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rang, I’d only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling, because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I then faced the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I knew it, it'd be close to midnight, and I’d frantically be trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school, it was even harder because I had to wake up earlier and get home later than most of my peers. As a dual magnet student and busing in from a different school zone, my commute was approximately 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seemed impossible. I frequently ran out of time because the slightest noise or movement sent my mind wandering. And then, because I was not able to multitask, I would get bored. My imagination would, of course, come to the “rescue.” Because I was constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety would kick in as EVERYone seemed to be staring at and whispering about me, holding them up from being able to leave. This cycle has been a part of my educational life since pre-school. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that often seems against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. Now that I'm at a university specifically designed for art majors and learners like me, I've been excelling academically and personally. Because I know how it feels, I help others by lending an ear. When I go to someone to express myself, they usually try to come up with a solution. But I often don’t want one. I know they’re just trying to help me, but it’s frustrating to not be able to just get something off my chest. Although I’m not a licensed therapist, I know what it means to just want someone to listen. I am able to make others feel seen and heard because I didn’t always have that for myself. The art that I create, and aspire to create as a professional, centers on those who are different in various ways and struggle mentally with being different. What I have learned is that my struggles today can help someone else tomorrow.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. I didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. As I head to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I'm excited to experience a learning environment that is more catered to my way of thinking and to use the tools I've learned to better manage my mental health and help others do the same.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. I didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. As I head to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I'm excited to experience a learning environment that is more catered to my way of thinking and to use the tools I've learned to better manage my mental health and help others do the same.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. I didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. As I head to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I'm excited to experience a learning environment that is more catered to my way of thinking and to use the tools I've learned to better manage my mental health and help others do the same. The Dylan's Journey Memorial Scholarship will allow me to focus my energy on further developing my talent.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter in my senior year. My most proud achievements so far are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD)’s summer program two years in a row, winning my high school's holiday card contest two years in a row and having my card design as the official holiday card for my school both years, being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on my high school's literary magazine, “Echo,” and receiving one of the highest award amount scholarship packages from SCAD to start this Fall 2025. I also didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county the same year I experienced homelessness. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. I didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. As I head to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I'm excited to experience a learning environment that is more catered to my way of thinking and to use the tools I've learned to better manage my mental health and help others do the same.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter in my senior year. My most proud achievements so far are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD)’s summer program two years in a row, winning my high school's holiday card contest two years in a row and having my card design as the official holiday card for my school both years, being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on my high school's literary magazine, “Echo,” and receiving one of the highest award amount scholarship packages from SCAD to start this Fall 2025. I also didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county the same year I experienced homelessness. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

A trance is the best word I’d use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I’m extremely excited to move on to the next step of my learning journey at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the SCAD Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, and skin tones. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness and value of humanity. My goal is to major in illustration and minor in creative writing. A huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my artistic journey. The Bright Lights Scholarship will allow me to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter in my senior year. My most proud achievements so far are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD)’s summer program two years in a row, winning my high school's holiday card contest two years in a row and having my card design as the official holiday card for my school both years, being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on my high school's literary magazine, “Echo,” and receiving one of the highest award amount scholarship packages from SCAD to start this Fall 2025. Although financial constraints still limit me in ways, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

A trance is the best word I’d use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I’m extremely excited to move on to the next step of my learning journey at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the SCAD Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, and skin tones. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness of humanity. My goal is to major in illustration and minor in creative writing. A huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my artistic journey. This scholarship will assist in allowing me to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced during my high school years is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. I also didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county. I maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes were honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. As I head to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I'm excited to experience a learning environment that is more catered to my way of thinking and to use the tools I've learned to better manage my mental health and help others do the same.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter in my senior year. My most proud achievements so far are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD)’s summer program two years in a row, winning my high school's holiday card contest two years in a row and having my card design as the official holiday card for my school both years, being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on my high school's literary magazine, “Echo,” and receiving one of the highest award amount scholarship packages from SCAD to start this Fall 2025. Although financial constraints still limit me in ways, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and served as the President of my high school's National Art Honor Society chapter in my senior year. My most proud achievements so far are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD)’s summer program two years in a row, winning my high school's holiday card contest two years in a row and having my card design as the official holiday card for my school both years, being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on my high school's literary magazine, “Echo,” and receiving one of the highest award amount scholarship packages from SCAD to start this Fall 2025. Although financial constraints still limit me in ways, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

A trance is the best word I’d use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I’m extremely excited to move on to the next step of my journey at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), with hopefully the assistance of the Kayla Nicole Monk Memorial Scholarship. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the SCAD Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My goal is to major in illustration and minor in creative writing. A huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my artistic journey. This scholarship will assist me in being able to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Both color and sound are perceived through waves. Color travels to the eyes through light waves; when combined, visual art is formed. Sound travels to the ears through sound waves; when combined, music is formed. But what would happen if the light waves in visual art and the sound waves in music were linked in a user-friendly way? My project, “Hear What You See...Or Cannot See: The Art of Connecting Light and Sound Waves,” started as a way to meet a mandatory requirement for a high school science project in a way that incorporated my passion for art. I started with the research question: How can I connect visual art and music using their wave frequencies? My hypothesis was, using knowledge of art, waves, and coding, I could tie each color in a painting to a music note that corresponded with that color. My goal was to code a sound board and attach it to a painting. My expected outcome was to be able to play music notes by only touching the colors on the painting, with those notes and colors paired together using their wave frequencies. And, in terms of future applications, this project could be used in art museums or galleries, schools or daycares, art and/or music therapy, and other spaces for children and adults alike, especially those with visual disabilities. This project was much more difficult to make than I originally thought it would be. The first step was the easiest, creating the painting of a fish with a rainbow-pattern of seven colors. Next, I added a dab of conductive paint to each color and connected the conductive paint dabs to nails connected to a Teensy board using soldered wires and copper tape. Selecting the sounds to correspond with the colors and programming were the most difficult parts; I learned that the difference between sound and color waves made them extremely difficult to pair and there were numerous considerations for programming, like creating a closed circuit by making sure the person touching the painting had a grounding connection or the sound would not emit. After many trials and errors, I was finally able to complete the project by corresponding the seven colors with the seven notes on the music scale in order of their frequency. I won the district fair in my category, and placed second at regionals. My project was one of the most visited, interacted with, and talked about. Children and adults lit up with joy as they pressed the colors and heard sounds, some even using it as a makeshift piano to play a song. This project is important because visual art and music can inspire people and convey world-changing messages in a unique and enduring way. Also, people who are blind would now be able to hear visual art. All ages, ethnicities, and backgrounds, could interact with powerful and influential visual art and music in an entertaining and novel way. We could connect the world by connecting visual art and music.

My favorite local community event that I have participated in has been volunteering with HeadCount. HeadCount is a national organization that provides nonpartisanship voter registration assistance, mostly at popular cultural events like music concerts and festivals. Not only is the perk of being able to enjoy the event once our shift is over great motivation, I volunteer with my mom so that makes it even more special. Because I know that when I go off to college I won’t spend as much time with her, I appreciate the memories we are able to make helping others. But what I value the most from the experience, is being able to help my community engage in the political process. I’ve been able to volunteer at the concert of R&B singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys, a live showing of the travel game show Urban Trivia Game, as well as the annual celebrity football game of rapper Quavo from the rap group the Migos. Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voice when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. I look forward to volunteering once I’m in college, and beyond even then. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to help more people register to vote and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for my community by voting now that I am of age to vote. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed.

Growing up, whenever my heart would feel something strongly, it would be difficult for me to find the words and confidence to say it. But I could always write or draw how I felt. That came easy. I thank my mom for instilling in me the love of books, because that is what made all the difference in me discovering my voice and myself. Picture books initially inspired me to become an artist. Once I got older, fiction and nonfiction books, overtime, helped improve my vocabulary to better communicate my feelings and gain confidence in doing so. And literacy not only helped me maintain great grades in school, but helped me advocate for myself. My first introduction to books was as a toddler. My mom amassed a mini library of children’s books for me to enjoy. Even before I could read, the way picture books visually convey plot and themes helped me comprehend complex ideas. Two of my favorite children’s books with expressive pictures are “please, baby, please,” by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee and the Sesame Street classic, “The Monster at the End of this Book,” by Jon Stone. The beautiful details drawn in these books, and many other picture books I enjoyed at a very young age, aided my comprehension of the words my mom would read to me at bed time. This was what inspired me to get into drawing my own characters and creating their unique stories. As a child, I would see my mother constantly read news articles and nonfiction books on issues that mattered to her. She would also re-read many of her favorite fiction books she discovered in her youth. Many of them became some of my favorites too, like “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” by Mildred D. Taylor and “The Westing Game,” by Ellen Raskin. And we would discover new books to read together, such as “Children of Blood and Bone,” by Tomi Adeyemi. Every summer, we would visit the library at least once a week, and she would assign books to me, both fiction and nonfiction, that she thought I would be interested in. This influence helped me excel in school despite struggling with ADHD and generalized anxiety. My mom has always been assured and confident in voicing her opinions no matter where she was speaking or who she was speaking to, and always has the research and knowledge to back it up factually. But, because of my anxiety, I found it hard to advocate for myself. Anytime I tried to speak up for myself, I would frequently think what was the point in wasting my energy when no one is listening or cares? So, my safe space was in reading, writing, and drawing. However, I found through books like “The Hate U Give,” by Angie Thomas and “All The Black Girls are Activists,” by ebonyjanice, the push to not give up on myself. “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This quote by Zora Neale Hurston emphasizes the importance of using my words. Self-advocacy is not an easy feat for me; reading books that represented who I was pushed me to grow into who I am. With this award, I would fund my education in illustration and creative writing. I hope to create works of art from my experience growing up that will help kids develop the love of literacy early on, as I did, and it continues for a life time. And I hope I can inspire the next generation to learn about and advocate for themselves.

I've struggled trying to be an effective leader to more than half a dozen students in my school’s National Art Honors Society chapter. My step up from Treasurer my junior year to President my senior year just so happened to correspond with the long-standing sponsoring teacher leaving and her replacement being a teacher new to the profession who'd never sponsored a club previously. Unfortunately, the transition between sponsoring teachers left many aspects of the club in jeopardy and in need of resubmission. And a few officer positions weren't filled. Don't get me wrong, serving in this role has been an enriching experience that has not only allowed me to improve my own leadership skills, but I’ve also helped my peers develop as leaders. At just the start of the school year, our chapter had qualified officers with the potential to excel, but many hadn’t fully tapped into their skill sets to embrace their roles. It became clear that with some guidance and support, we could collectively transform into a cohesive team. As I stated, and cannot state enough, the beginning was rough. I felt alone in my excitement and dedication to make the year great. I’d assign tasks that would be half-way-done or not at all. And simple tasks, that should be obvious for the role, required my specific and detailed instructions. There were many additional steps I had to take this year that were automatic or set in place in previous years, because of the change in sponsoring teachers. And some key roles, like Treasurer, weren’t even filled. I felt defeated and, at times, wanted to step down. I even questioned my future career path, which could include a larger leadership role over time. But I refused to give up! After getting advice from professional leaders, I focused on understanding each officer’s strengths and weaknesses. By taking the time to communicate in ways that resonated with them, I was able to assign tasks that played into their individual strengths. This approach fostered an environment of trust and collaboration, enabling us to support each other in areas where we each had room for growth. For instance, an officer who struggled with organization but excelled in creativity, I rearranged roles so that officer could focus only on creative aspects of our events while another officer handled the event planning responsibilities. As we worked together, I noticed a shift in how my peers interacted with the rest of the chapter members. They became more confident and engaged leaders, showing an understanding of what it takes to effectively run events and inspire participation. This growth has been not only rewarding to witness but a sign of the positive impact we can have on one another. I'm confident that, as we learned from our experiences that year, our chapter will continue to thrive in the future. I look forward to seeing how the skills we had worked on together will help the underclassmen who will serve in leadership positions this coming school year, as I take my new skills to college.

A trance is the best word I’d use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I’m extremely excited to move on to the next step of my learning journey as an Illustration major and Creative Writing minor at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available, to be replenished every birthday and Christmas. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest that I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Being inspired by mundane objects, like a paper clip, is how my character-designing process usually begins. I then craft complex narratives to resonate with a diversity of human experiences by exploring my characters’ origin stories and environments. I develop motivations shaping their identities, to create authentic and relatable characters with depth. Through thoughtful color choices reflecting their emotions and aspirations, I aim to convey their inner struggles in a way that connects with viewers. Also, my commitment to representing diverse cultures in my work is extremely important to me. I strive to ensure that my characters reflect the rich tapestry of our world. By embracing cultural nuances, I hope to create a sense of belonging for individuals who don’t often see themselves represented on screen. This commitment to inclusivity not only informs my creative choices but also drives my desire to inspire others. Each character I develop is a testament to the multifaceted nature of humanity, and I envision a future where my creations resonate deeply, encouraging viewers to embrace their own dreams while recognizing our shared experiences. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the SCAD Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. Overall, this aspect of my artwork has greatly impacted me. Character creation isn’t just my hobby, it’s a powerful exploration of my dreams. I approach my art with the knowledge that it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. My pursuit of an arts education is fueled by my belief in the power of art to influence change. I aspire to harness my creative abilities to promote inclusivity and understanding while inspiring communities in the process. The dynamic learning environment that SCAD supports will provide me with the tools and mentorship necessary to refine my craft and explore novel approaches. Its emphasis on innovation and collaboration aligns perfectly with my artistic vision. I am exciting to attend college to not just hone my craft, but connect with the vibrant, creative community it offers that will challenge me to grow as an artist. I’m committed to making a difference in the world, one character at a time. And although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, I’ve never had an artist close to me to look up to and learn from. I hope to be inspired by like-minded students, taught by experienced professors, and mentored by successful professionals who share my passion, enabling me to grow and contribute meaningfully to the art community. Despite not knowing what my future holds, I do know that I’ll always have this special love for illustration and story-telling. My goal is to further develop my skills so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others and hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Since a young age, I’ve always been creating, whether it be creating plots with my dolls, drawing up characters with my crayons, or simply doodling. During middle school, I went through homelessness and I experienced stress for the first time. I didn’t know it yet, but I had undiagnosed anxiety and Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) which contributed to my stressors during that period. One thing that helped ease my inner turmoil was consuming media. Media helped me realize my mental health and provided a way to have a healthy outlet for my external and internal issues. Finding a way to prioritize my mental health eventually led to finding my passion. The media I consumed was primarily movies and it helped during the time but didn’t exactly get to the root of my issues. Looking back, the movies and shows I noticed helped me the most through processing my emotions were the ones I related to on a deep level. A common pattern I caught on to was that I found the greatest comfort in the stories that covered uncomfortable topics because they were relatable. Being able to feel understood in a time when I didn’t have many people around me to understand helped me a lot. As my mental health continued to decline, I was still creating art. Luckily, at the end of middle school me my mom and I were able to find a home, but I was still struggling with unresolved internal issues. Around the same time as we moved in, I was able to be diagnosed by a counselor. There was a sense of relief to know what exactly was wrong with me and that I wasn’t the only person to experience it. There were also feelings of “so what now?” How did I deal with this diagnosis, how did I improve my mental health over time? And my mom couldn’t afford extended counseling at the time so I felt as if I was on my own. This led me back to the start, art. I never before realized that I could be the one who makes stories for kids to relate to in times of need. This suddenly became my goal with my art and I could express myself and my emotions within my creations. Now, my mom can afford mental health counseling and I’m able to use what I learn in those sessions within my art. This fall, I will be attending the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) to pursue my passions by majoring in illustration and minoring in creative writing. In my future, I look to create stories and dynamic characters that not only are diverse ethnically, but also are diverse emotionally. I want to contribute to the kids' side of media that helped me go through tough times before I knew a proper way to prioritize my mental health. Children who experience early hardships may not have access to mental health resources but I hope to help them not feel alone with their issues. I want to connect and inspire people through my art the same way I craved connection and gained inspiration.

My favorite piece that I have created is “Enervated”. It is the piece with the tired blue eyes and the contrastingly red collage of homework papers. With this piece, I was able to express my exhaustion from schoolwork. I attempted to convey my feelings of being overwhelmed by tearing up and collaging old homework. I dyed the pages red to exaggerate the feeling of strong negative emotions. I painted the eyes blue to communicate the feeling of being tired. I found that a lot of my classmates were able to relate to the piece. This artwork became my favorite because I was successfully able to visually convey my feelings in a way that resonated with others.

Since a young age, I’ve always been creating, whether it be creating plots with my dolls, drawing up characters with my crayons, or simply doodling. During middle school, I went through homelessness, and I experienced stress for the first time. I didn’t know it yet, but I had undiagnosed anxiety and Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), which contributed to my stressors during that period. One thing that helped ease my inner turmoil was consuming media. Media helped me realize my mental health and provided a way to have a healthy outlet for my external and internal issues. Finding a way to prioritize my mental health eventually led to finding my passion. The media I consumed was primarily movies, and it helped during the time, but didn’t exactly get to the root of my issues. Looking back, the movies and shows that helped me the most in processing my emotions were the ones I related to on a deep level. A common pattern I noticed was that I found the greatest comfort in stories that covered uncomfortable topics because they were relatable. Being able to feel understood in a time when I didn’t have many people around me to understand helped me a lot. As my mental health continued to decline, I was still creating art. Luckily, at the end of middle school, my mom and I were able to find a home, but I was still struggling with unresolved internal issues. Around the same time as we moved in, I was able to be diagnosed by a counselor. There was a sense of relief to know what exactly was wrong with me and that I wasn’t the only person to experience it. There were also feelings of “so what now?” How did I deal with this diagnosis? How did I improve my mental health over time? And my mom couldn’t afford extended counseling at the time, so I felt as if I was on my own. This led me back to the start, art. I never before realized that I could be the one who makes stories for people to relate to in times of need. This suddenly became my goal with my art, and I could express myself and my emotions within my creations. Between writing and illustration, I was able to successfully prioritize my mental health during the time I’d already spent creating. Now, my mom can afford mental health counseling, and I’m able to use what I learn in those sessions within my art. This fall, I will be attending the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) to pursue my passions by majoring in illustration and minoring in creative writing. In my future, I look to create stories and dynamic characters that not only are diverse ethnically, but also are diverse emotionally. I want to contribute to the media that helped me go through tough times before I knew a proper way to prioritize my mental health. Everyone goes through rough patches in their life, and the more we see that we aren’t alone, the more motivated we feel to get through it. I want to connect and inspire people through my art, the same way I craved connection and gained inspiration.

A trance is the only word I could use to describe it. I was glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that would change my life. Instead of watching a popular show for kids my age, I was entranced by Tom and Jerry. With its strictly 2D animation and classical music guiding the emotions within the story, a fire had been ignited within me. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to pursue a career in visual storytelling, though I wasn’t sure how. Growing up, using the same art box I received every Christmas, I continued to practice and develop my art skills. With each stroke of a colored pencil or crayon, I created characters born from my imagination. As I grew up, I fell in love with film. I became enamored with the beauty of visuals, complex character development, and the depth of storytelling. This led me to create mini comic books, often explaining my original Halloween characters. Now, my art is a mix of my childhood passions of storytelling and my love for character design. Books have been one of my sources of inspiration and motivation. They have taught me about diverse narratives and have shaped my desire to create art that reflects a multitude of perspectives. Works like The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron inspired and instructed me on how to unlock my creativity, whilst graphic novels from Marvel served as inspiration as a medium for powerful visual storytelling. Both demonstrated how art could shape the world by speaking about experiences that can otherwise remain unheard. They’ve pushed my aim to create visual stories that inspire, empower, and spark a positive change within society. Through my artistic journey, I recognized that 2D animation holds a special place in my heart. Even with the dominance of 3D animation in film today, I long for the mass media return of 2D animation. I find myself longing for more characters that I can relate to not only through personality but through cultural experiences. A lot of representation for African Americans in modern media enforces negative recurring stereotypes. These lazily put-together characters aren’t relatable and affect the quality of the work. Arcane and Spider-Man Across the Spider-verse are examples of good strong representation. I strive for fluid representation to be the norm and not something rare. Ultimately, I aim to use visual storytelling to highlight diversity and stimulate change. I aspire to create art that not only entertains but also reflects shared humanity, inspires those previously neglected by mass media, and normalizes a wider range of people being shown. Between race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, skin tones, and more, there is a whirlwind of characters that can be made to enhance stories for viewers. If someone feels directly inspired to obtain their goals because they saw themselves in a character my job is complete. My vision of a successful art career is to ignite the creative fires in others through my work, leaving a lasting impact on both individuals and communities, and making the world a more expressive and understanding place.

Why work for free? That’s what 11-year-old me was wondering. Why do I dedicate my time melting in my Atlanta Zoo volunteer shirt under the Georgia heat? Why do I sacrifice my Saturday to make puppets at the Center of Puppetry Arts? Why do I use hours of my life for Headcount to sign people up to vote? 6 years later, I know the answer. The change I can make in my community outweighs the money I’d earn from a minimum wage job. Life is short, and those 6 years flashed. Now, with recently turning 18 and being released into the world with training wheels, I don’t want another 6 years to flash by without me positively contributing to my community. I am dedicated to educating, inspiring, and serving my community for the hope of a better future. Education is crucial to young development and to keeping our community progressing. In the Atlanta Zoo, I saw the eyes of guests of all ages light up in awe at learning new things about animals. I would assist in educational scavenger hunts and even assist in giving facts about certain animals during my time. Being able to share knowledge was beautiful to witness, and I hope it left a lasting impact on them. At Headcount, the focus is more on young adults and older adults. I can spread the word about our right to vote and encourage young voters to exercise that right. More people being able to vote is a way for the community to progress through elections. For the Center of Puppetry Arts, I get a similar experience, educating with a more artistic twist. By making samples of puppets and instructing kids to make their own, I see their creativity work in real time, and I get the pleasure of even inspiring them with my ideas. On that same thought, inspiring is something that leads to beautiful creations and ideas. The fact that I can inspire kids through my art is extremely fulfilling and is another reason why I find community service to be worth my while. At the zoo, I encourage children and adults alike to explore. Through way-finding and helping with activities, I get to see kids be kids and adults tap into their own inner child. Being with my community at the Center of Puppetry Arts inspires me. There is an unspoken exchange of ideas that fuels both my and a guest's creativity when I’m of assistance. With Headcount, many people pass me and other volunteers off. People who I assume most likely aren’t exercising their right to vote. This inspires me to use my voice and my right to make up for those who don’t. With my life, even if it’s small I strive to make a positive impact. With this, I am glad to serve my community to nurture its future. Mundane tasks like cleaning, organizing, and greeting seem small but, I never know what someone is going through. Whether they have a rough home life, medical issues, financial problems, or are just having a bad day. Servicing guests with a smile on my face and receiving a smile in return at the Zoo, being able to see an exhausted parent take a break while their child smiles with glee at the Center for Puppetry Arts, or even assisting a young adult with their newfound freedom to vote, reassures my mission. With proof I’m making a difference in the present, I look forward to the positive difference in the future.

Dwindling my influences down to one person is challenging. If I could, I’d write about my family. The family that’s been supporting me since my first steps. 600 words isn’t enough to accurately describe how much they’ve influenced my passion for art. 600 words is just enough to cover my grandma, Mimi. Every phone call conversation riddled with life advice and laughter, every source of encouragement through art materials and showing up to my events, every ounce of love poured into me strengthened my drive. My Mimi is healing the generational trauma she received and gave to my mom through me, and I hope to do the same through my art. Although the generational trauma between mothers and their daughters is a bit different than the one I hope to aid, it’s still a topic I’d like to shine light on. The specific generational curse I want to cover is inaccurate representation. Through the years of media, they’ve shown a very limited range of diversity. Now, in the age of people being more aware of the harm of the lack of diversity, companies have started to combat that. The only issue here is it’s not authentic. Stories such as generational trauma from mothers to daughters haven’t been covered nearly as much as the struggling single mother stories or the gang violence stories. Even the differences in personality and interests aren't that diverse. Not to mention, whenever the media does add people of color to a story, it feels like a mark off a check box more than a well-rounded character that is more than their ethnicity/race. I want to cover these stories and write in seamless diversity that doesn’t feel forced or inauthentic. I want to show that black women can be more than the sassy side character that I’d see growing up. With the encouragement I received from my Mimi and the education I gained from the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I look forward to shining light on untold stories. Through majoring in illustration, I hope to make authentic diversity mainstream and put an end to the cheap side character or throwaway character that happens to be a person of color. I hope to make those characters and their background aid the story. Minoring in creative writing will allow me to smoothly and successfully write the characters I create into a story I create for them. I strive to eliminate the fatigue of sequels and projects with no passion. My skill is being able to pull inspiration from my background and my experiences into a story with original characters. I can also pull from others' backgrounds through research and learning more about their culture. Mimi helped me build this skill with her being the first person I could pull inspiration from through the stories of her life. I am eternally grateful for the support of my Mimi, but the fact that she helped me recognize the gift that I can give the world..

I’ve heard the argument that women are naturally better at childcare. I’d agree that part of our nature is designed that way, but there’s more than just our nature. The typical child grows up knowing the difference between a “girl toy” and a “boy toy”. Girls are given play kitchens or baby dolls with strollers and bottles. Boys are handed power tools and cars. The fact that boys aren’t growing up with baby dolls, strollers, and bottles as if they aren’t going to be the next generation's fathers is a longer conversation. The conversation I wanted to touch on is why women have grown up thinking we have one sole purpose in our lives: motherhood. I don’t know if it’s society talking, but I’d love to be a mother. The only thing is, that’s not all that I want my life to amount to. I want to explore, learn, and find what my purpose is beyond being a mother. Now that I’m older, I’ve learned that a big contributor to this mindset is the media we consume. Take princesses, before 2012, there weren’t any mainstream princesses without a traditional “happily ever after”. Time and time again, Prince Charming swooped a princess off their feet and whisked them away before the princess ever really got to do anything with her life. Mulan and Princess and the Frog are positive examples of women who got to pursue their passions whilst also meeting their love, but that’s so few compared to how many princesses there are. This phenomenon is seen in many other pieces of media across generations. Only recently has there been a switch, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. The sheer number of women who give up their passions to start a family makes me think of a world where we get to see their potential. I believe everyone has a gift to the world, no matter how big or how small that gift may seem. So when I see creative fields that are historically male-dominated, it makes me wonder, why? In visual arts such as film, painting, animation, fashion, and other creative careers such as music, men are dominant. Of course, this isn’t factual, but it isn’t crazy to claim that the average woman is more creative and eloquent in expressing their emotions than the average man. It surprises me that fields, which are mostly about expressing emotions, aren’t even equal, let alone female-dominated. As an awaiting college student who will be majoring in Illustration and minoring in Creative Writing, it was discouraging to learn about the industry I'm getting into. I pursued art because I wanted to make media that authentically highlighted those who were underrepresented. I’m now learning just how much women need that representation. So the question arises, why am I worth the dreams I aspire to achieve? Because every woman is worth reaching their highest potential. If their highest potential is motherhood, then by all means, but what I want to avoid is them thinking that’s all they can achieve. Women are mathematicians, scientists, politicians, explorers, writers, lawyers, lieutenants, artists, and so much more. I deserve, and all women deserve, the right to see ourselves on screen having a “happily ever after” that isn’t just marriage or a family. We all deserve to live in a world where women can contribute their full potential.

A spark is what got us here today. There is a claim that the spark of the first fire led to the advancement of our civilization as we know it. That spark of fire ignited the creativity of others and encouraged further advancement in numerous areas. The apple was Isaac Newton’s spark, and oppression was Martin Luther King’s, not to mention many other trailblazers in vastly different fields. My spark was Tom and Jerry. More specifically, I was infatuated with the show’s visual storytelling. The fact that I could understand exactly what was happening with no words and just music sparked my love for art in media. As I watched more movies and TV, both animated and live-action, I noticed that, specifically in animation, I didn’t see myself represented that often. My why was to make an influential passion project that inspires everyone, but specifically those who aren’t commonly represented. Whilst discovering my why, I also bounced around how I’d apply my passions. First, I started with the basics, drawing and coloring. Then, I sprouted into wanting to animate. I learned very quickly that drawing frame by frame wasn’t my style. I moved over to character design and writing out plots. Since moving, this is what I’ve stuck with and look to pursue in college. I love creating characters for not only black girls like me, but also groups who are commonly underrepresented. With writing, I strive to seamlessly integrate diversity within interesting and original plots. One common flaw of media today is that although there technically is “more” diversity, it’s not quite authentic. Sure, there are new characters such as Princess Tiana, but there is less range in the personalities and interests of these non-white characters. Oftentimes, a character of color feels like a mark off a checklist and not a carefully thought-out addition to a cast. The character will either mainly talk about how they’re such and such race/ethnicity, or they’ll be a manifestation of a stereotype. With my stories, I want to eliminate this and make compelling stories where diversity doesn’t feel forced. So, my goal through this process of discovering how I want to create art became creating media that not only has fluid diversity but also ignites a spark in others. With the rising competition of AI, I feel confident that this will be a key differentiating factor. Furthermore, there’s no denying that AI is threatening the art industry. Sadly, true art is so overlooked and underappreciated that people think a robot can easily recreate it. It wasn’t robots or artificial intelligence that created fire; it was the intelligence of a human. AI can produce faster or produce more than a human can, sure, but we will always be able to tell the difference between the quality of AI and artists. We can even tell the difference between a passion project and a lazily slopped-together sequel. The key difference? That spark. AI can’t replicate spark, the combination of unique human experiences, language, and creativity. AI can recreate, but only we can create. So, although I’m saddened and worried about my future beyond graduating, to ease my anxiety, I can focus on my goal and my why. To conclude, I feel confident that I can build up my skills that differentiate me from others at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). I look to major in illustration and minor in creative writing. To make my goal come true, I look forward to collaborating with other passionate artists and combining our skills and experiences to bring a project to the world. I hope that big-name companies that are over our media today realize that they cannot replace artists to cut corners and save money. People are craving real art from studios, and I want to be the one to provide it. Besides proving to companies that media by artists is still valuable, I want to prove to underrepresented groups that they can still see themselves without it feeling cheap and inauthentic. A piece of art that not only inspires others to create but also showcases diversity is my ultimate goal with my higher education, and spark-less AI will not take that away from me.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, skin tones, and genders. This issue has gained attention recently, yet many creators rely on tokenism instead of delivering genuine portrayals. As an African-American woman, I’m drained by the shallow depictions of women and minorities that reduce and limit us to stereotypes. I’m committed to the challenge of crafting new stories as opposed to simply diversifying existing familiar narratives. For example, I love watching anime, but it is notarious for limiting most female characters to plot devices for the lead male characters. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness and value of reality. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, where every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. I make sure my visual art and writing for my female characters are just as compelling and significant as my male characters. My immediate future goal is to refine my skills at Savannah College of Art and Design, by majoring in illustration and minoring in Creative Writing, so I can perfect the creation of multi-dimensional, relatable characters whose identities, while integral to their narratives, also connect to others outside of those who share their identities. My ultimate goal is to promote understanding and empathy. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world. I believe putting other voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. By doing so, I hope to inspire those who don’t currently see themselves in mainstream media represented accurately or at all, one character at a time. Who knows, maybe there is a little girl waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, and skin tones. This issue has gained attention recently, yet many creators rely on tokenism instead of delivering genuine portrayals. As an African-American woman, I’m drained by the shallow depictions of minorities that reduce and limit us to stereotypes. I’m committed to the challenge of crafting new stories as opposed to simply diversifying existing familiar narratives. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness and value of reality. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, where every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. My immediate future goal is to refine my skills at Savannah College of Art and Design, by majoring in illustration and minoring in Creative Writing, so I can perfect the creation of multi-dimensional, relatable characters whose identities, while integral to their narratives, also connect to others outside of those who share their identities. My ultimate goal is to promote understanding and empathy. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world. I believe putting other voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. By doing so, I hope to inspire those who don’t currently see themselves in mainstream media represented accurately or at all, one character at a time. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

The Underlying Meaning of “Be Near Me” To the naked eye, this is just a beautifully written poem about love and longing in the night. Upon first read, I concluded that the poem had an underlying theme of the night's emotional effect on the writer and how it amplified the feeling of love and longing, but I felt like there just had to be more. The meaning that lies even deeper beneath the surface is based on the author's history of subjects for his poems. He often wrote political poems and that’s what made me shift my understanding. The underlying meaning of the poem, “Be Near Me,” by Faiz Ahmed Faiz is that love is the strongest hope in crisis. I concluded this based on the political state of Faiz’s hometown, Siakolt, his personification of the night, and his diction. To start, in 1987, Faiz published a collection of poems from that year. And with his upbringing into poetry through his father being an elite member of a social literary circle, I suspected there must’ve been something happening in Siakolt during the time of his writing. My suspicions were correct, there was high political turmoil in the region as well as ethnic tensions amongst Mohajirs, Sindhis, Punjabis, and more. Despite his chaotic environment, Faiz's poetry reflects the belief that love serves as a beacon of hope amidst negative external forces. In "Be Near Me," this sentiment suggests that the bonds of affection and connection can provide solace and strength to endure even the most challenging times. His writing reflected this sentiment well through his diction and his personifications. His personification of the night is notable in his underlying meaning. “It’s blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step,” is talking about the night, yet seems as though it also describes a political climate that is imprisoning and hard to escape. Another quote, “When having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes,” is representative of the numbness felt from constant conflict and how the strong emotion regarding that conflict follows. These personifications reiterate the feeling of hopelessness and despair with his environment. "When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use;” near the end expresses his hopelessness toward the state of his country. He follows this up with, “Be with me,” meaning when things outside of your control take over your life and emotions, love is there as comfort and as hope. His word choice is also notable when understanding his underlying meaning. His use of diction, with words such as, “lamentation”, which means the passionate expression of grief or sorrow, represents the political issues he most likely was experiencing in everyday life. Faiz also uses the words “diamond lancets.” A lancet is a blade with a sharp point and when put together with a diamond, it can be described as glorified or beautiful pain. Typically, conflict is glorified concerning countries defending or offending other countries. Diamond could also refer to the strength of the pain given that it’s one of the strongest minerals. With his depiction of the night being painful and emotionally draining for not only himself but others around him, his source of light is his tormentor and his love. To conclude, Faiz’s beautiful poem delves deeper than just love and longing but into feelings of despair for his current political climate. This is relatable to a lot of people today who are scared given conflicts around the world and in their homes. This poem stood out for its timelessness and adaptability to many global situations even today. For me, the depth of love being the source of hope amidst dark times is inspiring and makes me appreciate loved ones who keep me positive even more than before. I hope many more people discover his work and more specifically his poem, “Be Near Me.” BE NEAR ME by Faiz Ahmed Faiz “Be near me now, My tormenter, my love, be near me— At this hour when night comes down, When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets, When it comes with cries of lamentation, with laughter with songs; Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step. At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places, Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil For hands still enfolded in sleeves; When wine being poured makes the sound of inconsolable children who, though you try with all your heart, cannot be soothed. When whatever you want to do cannot be done, When nothing is of any use; —At this hour when night comes down, When night comes, dragging its long face, dressed in mourning, Be with me, My tormenter, my love, be near me.” WORKS CITED: “Be near Me.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 12 Aug. 2019, poets.org/poem/be-near me. “Brass Tacks and Kashmir: India-Pakistan Military Crises in the 1980s.” Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training, adst.org/2017/01/brass-tacks-india-pakistan-military-crises/#:~:text=A%20crisis%20between%20India%20and,National%20Security%20Advisor%20Robert%20Gates. Accessed 11 June 2025. “Faiz Ahmed Faiz.” Poets.Org, Academy of American Poets, 13 Feb. 2025, poets.org/poet/faiz-ahmed-faiz. Staff, Al Jazeera. “India-Pakistan Tensions: A Brief History of Conflict.” Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 20 May 2025, www.aljazeera.com/news/2025/5/9/india-pakistan-tensions-a-brief-history-of-conflict#:~:text=1980s:%20The%20rebellion%20in%20Kashmir,popular%2C%20anti%2DIndia%20politicians.

I would make representation in the film and tv industry the focus of my efforts to effect change and a positive impact on the world. Representation in film and tv has been a critical topic of discussion lately, especially since 2020. While many creators succeed in including diverse characters, often times the execution falls short, resulting in representation that feels more like a checkbox than an authentic portrayal. My focus would be on creating works of visual storytelling that prioritize natural and accurate representation, going beyond mere tokenism to create characters whose identities—be it race, ethnicity, sexuality, or disability—are integral to their narratives. As an African American woman, I find myself frustrated by the lack of depth in characters who are supposed to serve the purpose of representation. I’ve noticed a pattern where characters are reduced to stereotypes that don’t accurately represent the diverse personalities of the minority they’re representing. My goal would be to create stories that include multi-dimensional and relatable characters. Additionally, I’m passionate about addressing the portrayal of different races in varying skin tones. It’s very common for many African Americans, Asians, and those who are ethnically Hispanic, to be depicted primarily with lighter skin tones. This not only impacts how these communities are perceived but also affects self-image among individuals who don’t fit these limited representations. I aim to challenge this norm by celebrating the full spectrum of skin tones and experiences within these communities, showcasing the beauty and diversity that exists in reality. I am also committed to creating new stories with new characters, rather than recreating old narratives to lazily fit a more diverse cast. Ultimately, my aspiration is to create characters in stories that promote understanding and empathy, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world within film, where diversity is accurate and detailed. I believe putting authentic voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society. Through my studies at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I hope to refine my skills and bring my vision to life, creating art that inspires and uplifts those who see themselves in my characters. Authentic representation matters, and I am dedicated to contributing to a film and tv industry where everyone can find stories that reflect their realities and aspirations.

I would make representation in the film and tv industry the focus of my efforts to effect change and a positive impact on the world. Representation in film and tv has been a critical topic of discussion lately, especially since 2020. While many creators succeed in including diverse characters, often times the execution falls short, resulting in representation that feels more like a checkbox than an authentic portrayal. My focus would be on creating works of visual storytelling that prioritize natural and accurate representation, going beyond mere tokenism to create characters whose identities—be it race, ethnicity, sexuality, or disability—are integral to their narratives. As an African American woman, I find myself frustrated by the lack of depth in characters who are supposed to serve the purpose of representation. I’ve noticed a pattern where characters are reduced to stereotypes that don’t accurately represent the diverse personalities of the minority they’re representing. My goal would be to create stories that include multi-dimensional and relatable characters. Additionally, I’m passionate about addressing the portrayal of different races in varying skin tones. It’s very common for many African Americans, Asians, and those who are ethnically Hispanic, to be depicted primarily with lighter skin tones. This not only impacts how these communities are perceived but also affects self-image among individuals who don’t fit these limited representations. I aim to challenge this norm by celebrating the full spectrum of skin tones and experiences within these communities, showcasing the beauty and diversity that exists in reality. I am also committed to creating new stories with new characters, rather than recreating old narratives to lazily fit a more diverse cast. Ultimately, my aspiration is to create characters in stories that promote understanding and empathy, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world within film, where diversity is accurate and detailed. I believe putting authentic voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society. Through my studies at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), I hope to refine my skills and bring my vision to life, creating art that inspires and uplifts those who see themselves in my characters. Authentic representation matters, and I am dedicated to contributing to a film and tv industry where everyone can find stories that reflect their realities and aspirations. My hope is to inspire others to embrace their identities and understand that they are more than just stereotypes needed for entertainment.

My experience with mental health has been difficult yet rewarding in all aspects of my life. The biggest barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, and my personal life as I struggle with over-thinking and self-esteem issues related to these struggles. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is over an hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life my whole life. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and over-thinking, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

My experience with overcoming mental health has been difficult yet rewarding in all aspects of my life. The biggest barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, and my personal life as I struggle with over-thinking and self-esteem issues related to these struggles. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is over an hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life my whole life. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and over-thinking, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

My favorite local community event that I have participated in has been volunteering with HeadCount. HeadCount is a national organization that provided nonpartisanship voter registration assistance mostly at popular cultural events, like music concerts and festivals. Not only is the perk of being able to enjoy the event once our shift is over great motivation, I volunteer with my mom so that makes it even more special. Because I know that when I go off to college I won’t spend as much time with her, I appreciate the memories we are able to make helping others. But what I value the most from the experience, is being able to help my community engage in the political process. I’ve been able to volunteer at the concert of R&B singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys, a live showing of the travel game show Urban Trivia Game, as well as the annual celebrity football game of rapper Quavo from the rap group the Migos. Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voice when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. I look forward to volunteering once I’m in college, and beyond even then. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to help more people register to vote and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for my community by voting when I am of age. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed.

A trance is the best way to describe it; that’s how the journey to my current professional aspirations began. I was glued to the couch in awe as “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” captured my attention, which wasn't easy for a preschooler struggling with ADHD. It was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over with strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions. Little did I know, this moment was an omen of my life to come. From that very young age, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My professional aspirations center around creating authentically diverse characters in the film/tv industry. I strive to bring depth and complexity to representations of underrepresented races, ethnicities, skin tones, disabilities, and lifestyles. I am driven by the belief that accurate diversity goes beyond than just the appearance of a character. It entails creating characters that resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, styles, home lives, and personality traits. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, where every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. A key motivation for my work is the desire to see accurate and relatable representation on screen. Many "diverse" characters seen in film often feel like hollow shells of diversity. They lack the nuances that come from real-life experiences. I am determined to challenge this commonality within the film industry by developing fleshed-out characters who embody the complexities of their backgrounds. By doing so, I hope to inspire others who may not see themselves represented in mainstream media. Ultimately, my aspiration is to create characters in stories that promote understanding and empathy, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world within the film/tv industry, where diversity is accurate and detailed. I believe putting authentic voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society. Ultimately, by creating diverse, nuanced characters and stories I hope to promote understanding and empathy, allowing all individuals to feel seen. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive society. I believe putting authentic voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people in a positive way. However, a huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my artistic journey. This scholarship will help me have the funds needed to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Taking on the role of President of my school’s National Art Honors Society (NAHS) chapter has been an experience that has not only enhanced my leadership skills, but has also empowered my peers to assert their own capabilities. At the beginning of the year, I noticed that while many of my fellow officers exhibited raw potential, they often struggled to fully embrace their responsibilities. I understood that with the right guidance and support, we could transition from a collection of individuals to a cohesive team, capable of achieving great things together. The beginning was rough. I felt alone in my excitement and dedication to make the year great. I’d assign tasks that would be half-way-done or not at all. And simple tasks that should be obvious for the role required my specific and detailed instructions. I felt defeated and, at times, wanted to step down. After getting advice from professional leaders, I focused on understanding each officer’s strengths and weaknesses. By taking the time to communicate in ways that resonated with each of them, I was able to assign tasks that played into their individual strengths. This approach fostered an environment of trust and collaboration, enabling us to support each other in areas where we each had room for growth. For instance, one officer displayed creativity and amazing artistic expression. I encouraged them to lead the artistic aspects of our events, allowing their natural talent to shine. In contrast, I took note of officers who thrived in organization and logistics, assigning them tasks that played to their strengths, such as event coordination and communication. This strategic division of labor not only clarified roles but also built trust and accountability among the officers. As we continued to work together throughout the year, I focused on promoting open communication and regular feedback. By fostering a culture where each officer felt comfortable sharing ideas and concerns, I was able to create an engaged and motivated leadership body. As a direct consequence of this supportive environment, my peers began to exhibit greater confidence in their capabilities. They became proactive in leading events, inspiring participation, and contributing creatively to our objectives. I noticed a shift in how my peers interacted with the rest of the chapter members as well. They became more confident and engaged leaders. Their transformation from hesitant leaders to empowered decision-makers has been not only rewarding to witness but a sign of the positive impact we can have on one another. So far, our chapter has embarked on several successful projects, including organization of art showcases and community outreach initiatives, where students from various disciplines collaborated to celebrate diverse arts. The growth I have observed isn’t just limited to individual capabilities, it extends to the overall effectiveness of our chapter as a whole. We aren’t just completing projects, we are cultivating a vibrant community of artists eager to share their talents and foster a love for the arts among everyone in our school and community. In conclusion, taking on the leadership role in the NAHS has been a transformative experience, not just for myself but for my peers as well. By understanding and utilizing the unique strengths of each officer, I have effectively guided and supported my team. Together, we have enhanced not only our leadership skills but also created a lasting impact on our chapter and its contributions to our school and community. The lessons learned will undoubtedly carry on, inspiring future leaders long after my term. I am confident that, as we learn from our experiences this year, our chapter will continue to thrive in the future.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining 504 Plan accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining 504 Plan accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that seems often against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities. I’ve learned to live in the moment. My struggles cause a disaster in my brain. Any small interaction can lead to over-thinking to the point I can’t even enjoy myself. I’ve noticed that in my brain I’m criticizing my actions much more than people interacting with me are doing. In their minds I did a great job, in my mind I’m hyper fixated on the mistakes I made. Thinking of all the possibilities for failure in the future and every mistake I couldn’t change from the past almost led me to ruining my present. The future is unknown and the past is gone. The only thing I can do and control is the present, which is the only place I should be.

My favorite local community event that I have participated in has been volunteering with HeadCount. HeadCount is a national organization that provided nonpartisanship voter registration assistance mostly at popular cultural events, like music concerts and festivals. Not only is the perk of being able to enjoy the event once our shift is over great motivation, I volunteer with my mom so that makes it even more special. Because I know that when I go off to college I won’t spend as much time with her, I appreciate the memories we are able to make helping others. But what I value the most from the experience, is being able to help my community engage in the political process. I’ve been able to volunteer at the concert of R&B singer, songwriter, and pianist Alicia Keys, a live showing of the travel game show Urban Trivia Game, as well as the annual celebrity football game of rapper Quavo from the rap group the Migos. Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voice when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. I look forward to volunteering once I’m in college, and beyond even then. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to help more people register to vote and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for my community by voting when I am of age. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed.

A trance describes it best. There I was, glued to the couch in awe…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment would reveal the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, with every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. My professional aspiration is to create authentic, diverse representations of characters and stories in film/tv. I strive to bring depth and complexity to depictions of underrepresented races, ethnicities, and skin tones. This issue has gained attention recently, yet many creators rely on tokenism instead of delivering genuine portrayals. As an African-American woman, I’m drained by the shallow depictions of minorities that reduce and limit us to stereotypes. I’m committed to the challenge of crafting new stories as opposed to simply diversifying existing familiar narratives. I believe that accurate portrayals of diverse characters go beyond their mere appearance. It entails creating characters who resonate with audiences through their unique dialects, cultural styles, home lives, and personality traits. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I hope to showcase the richness and value of reality. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world. I believe putting other voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. By doing so, I hope to inspire those who don’t currently see themselves in mainstream media represented accurately or at all, one character at a time. My immediate future goal is to refine my skills at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) so I can perfect the creation of multi-dimensional, relatable characters whose identities, while integral to their narratives, also connect to others outside of those who share their identities. This will promote understanding and empathy. The Alexis Mackenzie Memorial Scholarship for the Arts will allow me to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

I’m very lucky to have a mom who instilled financial education throughout my life. Having me during a major recession, budgeting was essential. In 5th grade, my mom and I experienced homelessness. During this time, knowing the difference between wants and needs helped appease me whenever I wanted something I couldn’t get. Although we are in a better financial position now, we aren’t wealthy; so, having a savings plan has allowed us to pay for senior year expenses. Through my mom’s financial ups and downs, I was taught the three essentials to managing my finances: budgeting, identifying, and saving. To start off, budgeting is vital to control how income is spent. As early as my pre-school years, I remember my mom helping me budget how I spent my gift money and seeing her budget her money as an entrepreneur in industries hit hardest by the recession. Now that I’m older and I spend money on more than just toys and art supplies, I’m constantly considering the best way to divvy the income I earn from working and gifts from family. For example, last month I had a $50 limit on extra food because I spent $100 on clothes. But regardless of my budget, I also had to learn how to allocate money based on what’s most and least important. My mom taught me the importance of identifying my level of necessity as opposed to want for items in my budget. As a child, I sometimes confused something I strongly wanted with a feeling of needing it. Going through financial struggles in elementary school forced my mom to be more thoughtful in helping me weigh wants in proportion to costs. We were blessed to have loving family and friends to stay with as we got back on our feet, but it was a difficult time that required difficult questions. Like, would I only use what I think I need a few times before casting it aside? Or is this something I actually need? The quality of the item, which impacts how long it will last, was also important. My mom taught me it’s not always best to get the cheapest. Despite mastering wants vs needs, emergencies are bound to happen, so that’s where saving comes in. Having savings are essential for emergencies, as well as future plans. As early as 4th grade, my mom had me in 4-H. The first contest I participated in, I won. I learned about savings and created my own piggy bank to encourage others to save. In middle school, once we were in a better financial position, my mom took me to her credit union to open a savings account. Because of our savings, we were in a better financial position to handle the emergencies that came with COVID-19. And I was able to save money that I now use for senior expenses, like prom and graduation. My mom used her savings to pay for my senior dues, cap and gown, and other required senior expenses. It also helps us budget better, afford needs, and get a few wants now and again. All in all, I’ve been set up for success financially through the foundation of my mom’s teachings. As a sophomore, I added to that foundation by learning more complex lessons in my Personal Finance class. I feel very prepared for managing my finances in college and adulthood, as I continue to budget, identify wants versus needs, and save. I look forward to passing my knowledge on to my children!

The blue in the bags under my eyes wear Teachers hand out endless packets from the comfort of their chairs While we stress They decompress So while you swear by punishment for lack of punctuality You fail to praise what you preach and those expectations begin to tear Our papers are left on your desk ungraded and bare

My top 3 Billie Eilish songs are songs that have got me through my battles with mental health. The songs, “wish you were gay”, “everything i wanted”, and “my future” have been on repeat when I only had myself to cry with. First, “wish you were gay,” has helped me express my sadness when it came to feeling alone after I lost a friend or didn’t understand why I couldn’t find someone important to me that stayed. Ever since I was in kindergarten, my closest friend at school would move out of town the following year. And even later on, when they didn’t move, we would grow apart; even though we would still be cool, we wouldn’t be as close. Although the topic of the song is about romantic rejection and how Billie wishes the reason her love interest isn’t interested is sexual preference, it still represented my feeling of platonic rejection and longing to understand why. As I continued my struggle through mental health, “everything i wanted,” represented my conflicting ideas around suicide. With the song explaining the story about how Billie had a dream about ending her life and feeling like those around her wouldn’t care, she knows there’s at least someone (her brother) who loves and would miss her. This resonated with my ideology that I didn’t want to commit suicide and hurt those I love, but I didn’t like living. I had wished that I was instead never born and that no one got the chance to be attached to me. Despite my mental health improving a lot, when times are tough, I resort to this thinking and hearing Billie’s experience being similar to mine is soothing. Lastly, as my mental health has gotten better, the song “my future” was a light at the end of the tunnel. This song was released in my last year of middle school and was extremely encouraging for me. In high school I was able to get a therapist and I found my best friend along with some other close friends. With her newest album, “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT,” I was able to get through a mentally straining summer of 2024. Through thick and through thin, Billie Eilish’s music has gotten me through a lot mentally confusing times, and continues to do so.

At North Springs High School, the teacher who influenced me and my life the most is my freshman-year AP Human Geography (AP HUG) teacher, Mrs. Olson. Her class and teaching style was the foundation for my high school career in terms of education, community, and discipline. And I know her influence will continue to guide me as I graduate and attend college. Educationally, I was able to effectively apply what I learned in AP HUG to the real world. In the news, I recognized the language and geographical patterns I learned in class. Mrs. Olson’s teaching method was engaging and relatable, so making connections to the world around me was easy. I didn’t have to rely on memorization because she structured the material in such a way that I was able to truly understand it. However, because of the volume of information, I had to use some method to remember the vocabulary and terms. I practiced a method of applying a story or a phrase to help because that is how she taught us. She’d tell us an interesting personal story or give us an acronym that we could associate with the vocabulary or term. This method has helped in my other classes. It’s been a lifeline for me as a senior in AP Art History, which has an even higher volume of information I must recall. AP HUG taught me a sense of community. Mrs. Olson would hold numerous class discussions so we could hear differing viewpoints. And she required several group assignments and projects so we could learn how to collaborate with others. This allowed me to get closer with my classmates. I was able to connect with students of different interests and backgrounds. This sense of community helped me feel more connected to North Springs, which was particularly important for me because I didn’t attend the feeder middle school and it was the first year we were back in physical classrooms after COVID-19. This community helped me both educationally, through group study sessions, and socially, by taking mental breaks at social events and get-togethers. Most important, AP HUG was the first class that really taught me discipline. As much as I wanted to spend a lot of time with my friends after spending almost two years in isolation due to COVID-19, I knew if I didn’t study that would reflect in my grades because of the pace of the class. Mrs. Olson would assist us in creating a study outline each week. This method helped me divide my work in other classes as well, to minimize the stress that often comes from procrastinating. She also helped me gain leadership skills and learn how to appropriately allocate tasks. This sense of discipline has helped me inside and outside the classroom. As the president of North Spring’s chapter of the National Art Honor Society (NAHS) and as an assistant counselor at a summer youth art camp, I’ve used many of these skills. AP HUG was the first AP test that I took, and I received a 4. I believe my results were in large part due to Mrs. Olson’s teaching style which helped me reach the right balance of education, community, and discipline. Her method of teaching was the backbone of my success throughout my high school years at North Springs, where I’m graduating as a principal’s list honors student in the dual magnet program. And, I believe, will continue to help me when I leave high school to attend college at Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD) in the fall. For this, I thank Mrs. Olson.

Georgia is a state rich in higher educational opportunities catering to a wide range of interests. There are several Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) for those seeking community. There are diverse technical colleges for those focused on a particular trade. There are a lot of community colleges for those with financial need. There are many top ranked state and private schools for those seeking prestige. There are even specialized colleges for particular interests, like mine, the arts. These opportunities have given Georgia students the freedom of choice in how we shape our academic journeys and future career goals. The flexibility and variety of educational experiences is the highlight of Georgia’s educational opportunities. As a passionate visual arts student, I’m grateful that Georgia has several colleges with strong and diverse art programs. I’m born and raised in Atlanta, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. It’s assuring to know that from the comfort of my own home, I can seek quality education for my passion. I can attend an HBCU, like Spelman College or Clark Atlanta University. I can attend a state school, such as Georgia State University or Kennesaw State University. Or I can attend a top ranked private art college, like Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Any of these universities, and more, offer impressive curriculums that assist students in building unique creative expressions with tried and true technical skills. Their students are set up for success in any of the artistic fields they’re trained in. I’ve been blessed to be accepted to all five, but SCAD is my dream school. I was drawn by the large diversity of majors and global opportunities. But the availability of these diverse programs has given me a sense of direction and confidence when planning my academic journey. My future goals of inspiring others through my art have always felt attainable; however, it does come with some stress. A significant cause of stress for many students, including myself, is the rising cost of education. While there are many financial aid options for Georgia residents, the cost over the available aid compared to most household incomes makes higher education feel more like a luxury than a necessity. And although scholarships can help, many students, between keeping up their grades and having jobs, don’t have time to fill out a lot of applications. Many students are promising and have passions they can’t fully pursue due to finances. This limits how many amazing and educated leaders, workers, and creators Georgia curates. I believe that improving the affordability of higher education is crucial for ensuring that all students have access and Georgia is positioned as a state that produces leaders. A potential solution could be allocating sales tax collected from the purchase of school supplies to fund financial aid for Georgia students attending a college in Georgia. This would increase the available aid while not further hurting those families who need that aid with a tax increase. Georgia's variety of educational opportunities has heavily influenced my academic journey and career aspirations. However, addressing the financial barriers to education is essential in ensuring access to education for all promising students. Through tax money being specifically set aside for financial aid, I hope the educational opportunities within Georgia become more financially attainable for future Georgia students.

As a little Black girl growing up with big dreams, dozens of papers filled with doodles, and a box of broken crayons, “The Princess and the Frog” movie meant the world to me. I was 2.5 years old when I first saw it in the theater on the release day. My mom said it was the first movie I watched from beginning to end in one viewing. As soon as she could, my mom bought the DVD so I could watch it anytime I wanted. Besides the humor and the magic of Disney, and sharing a similar name with the lead, I kept watching the movie for two reasons. One, the art style was beautiful. The art fully engrossed me into the world of the film and had a prominent personality. It stood apart from other films released around the same time. Two, there was a natural sense of diversity within the film. I felt represented in the best way and little me could see myself as a hardworking and smart princess. This movie shaped what I wanted to create for the world and for my community. “The Princess and the Frog” was the second to last Disney movie to be animated in 2-D. Since 2011, Disney has stuck to 3-D animation for their major films. While 3-D animation is beautiful, the distinct personalities and art styles once seen as standard in animated films have slowly dwindled away. I want to revive the big media usage of 2-D animation. I grew up with other Disney films that were amazing in story-telling and had beautiful art, such as “Tangled” and “Moana.” However, it was “The Princess and the Frog” that stayed on repeat in my home. I hope to bring back the magic of 2-D animation to inspire someone just like me growing up with a new and different style to look at compared to what is available, while also introducing them to the nostalgia of an art style from the past. The diversity of the movie was amazing. The research put into the look and culture of New Orleans and of African Americans shined through and I felt well represented. Although I’m not from New Orleans, being a southern African American girl a similar complexion to Tiana, it meant a lot to see myself on screen. It made me feel like I could dream big too. This led me to my big dream of wanting to share this feeling to others who are under- or mis-represented. Many usages of diversity today feel forced and not accurate. It seems like the characters are checking a box instead of being an authentic part of the story. I purposefully avoid this when writing my own stories and designing my own characters. Whether it is a character with a disability, LGBTIQ+ identity, ethnicity, or other, I want those in that community to feel how I felt when I watched Tiana. Overall, “The Princess and the Frog” is a generationally great movie, and even at a young age I recognized the impact it had on me. The art dazzled me and the representation inspired me. The movie still means a lot to me and has helped shape my future goals. I started creating my own characters and stories only a couple years later and still do. Now, as I plan to attend Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) for the upcoming fall semester, I’m seeing my big dreams become a reality. I hope to inspire others from different walks of life the same way “The Princess and the Frog” inspired me.

A trance describes it best. I was glued to the couch in awe as “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” captured my attention, which wasn't easy for a preschooler struggling with ADHD. Starting young, I'd draw characters and give them a voice. Becoming more than just a hobby, it's now a powerful exploration of my dreams and talents. I hope to hone my skills through a robust collegiate art program with the help of the Sunshine Legall Scholarship. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or a bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually begins. I then give them a voice by crafting complex narratives, exploring my characters’ origin stories, environments, and motivations. By embracing cultural nuances, I strive to give a voice to a variety of communities who often go unheard by representing them authentically in my art. I approach my craft with the knowledge that art can spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. I’m committed to making a difference in the world, and giving a voice to the voiceless, one character at a time. In addition to being influenced by my love of art, volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voices when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive, I find that many individuals, especially in BIPOC communities, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our communities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to help more people register and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for BIPOC communities by voting when I am of age and using my art to ensure BIPOC-community concerns and needs are heard and addressed. My academic goal is to major in illustration and minor in creative writing. A huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my journey. This scholarship will help me be able to focus my energy on further developing my talent so that I’m able to showcase my passion in a way others will hopefully see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to their couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends, and being grounded spiritually. While I was fortunate to have those emotional safe guards, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school and various art-related contests in high school. I now serve as President of my school's National Art Honor Society chapter. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my artwork in my school's literary magazine, “Echo.” I also didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county the same year I experienced homelessness. I have maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes have been honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding from the Achieve Potential Scholarship, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school and various art-related contests in high school. I now serve as the President of my high school’s National Art Honor Society (NAHS). My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my artwork in my school’s literary magazine, “Echo.” But my most impactful accomplishment is leading my NAHS chapter. Serving as NAHS President has enriched my leadership skills. At the beginning of the year, while my fellow officers showed potential, many struggled to embrace their roles. I recognized that with guidance and support, we could transform into a cohesive team. By understanding each officer’s strengths and weaknesses, I assigned tasks that utilized their abilities, creating a trusting and collaborative environment. For example, I encouraged an officer who excelled in creativity to focus on the artistic elements of our events while assigning organizational tasks to others who thrived with logistics. As we worked together, my peers became more confident and engaged leaders, learning to effectively run events and inspire participation. Witnessing their growth has been rewarding, and I am excited to see how the skills we've developed contribute to the success of the chapter long-term. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding from the Resilient Scholar Award, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

The biggest struggle I’ve faced as a student is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up earlier and get home later than most of my peers. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and mental health counselor, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that seems often against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. Because I know how it feels, I help others by lending an ear. When I go to someone to express myself, they usually try to come up with a solution. But I often don’t want one. I know they’re just trying to help me, but it’s frustration to not be able to just get something off my chest. Although I’m not a licensed therapist, I know what it means to just want someone to listen. I pride myself on making others feel seen and heard. I don’t always have that, so I want to be that for others.

CREATING LIFE A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available, to be replenished every birthday and Christmas. Unfortunately for my mom, at 4 years old I drew a 5’ x 3’ brontosaurus across my bedroom floor carpet in marker after watching a tv show where drawings came to life. She was of course livid, but she says she had to hold in how impressed she was at how well I had drawn it at my age, especially considering the scale and medium. Why, of all creatures, I wanted a dinosaur to come to life in my bedroom I couldn’t tell you. Drawing wasn’t the only artistic interest that I showed early on. I also thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives, usually using my dolls and stuffed animals as actors. Another story my mom tells every chance you give her, also at 4 years old and while at pre-school, I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of the teachers enthusiastically told my mom that she needed to get me in acting and/or puppetry art classes because she was so impressed by how invested she was in my stories. My mom laughs to this day at how serious she was and how much she said she looked forward to hearing and watching my shows. As I entered my elementary school years, I would continue to use my art supplies to create my own characters and/or story lines. From the intricate relationships between my Barbie and Ken dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Character Day on Halloween each year because I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as and we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Near the end of elementary school and going into middle school is when film became more important to me. I valued the beauty of the visuals, the complexity of the characters and the dynamic interactions between them, the plot and its twists, and the way each movie in cinematic universes such as Marvel would feel like a puzzle piece connecting it to the next movie and to previous movies. I even thought I wanted to be an actress for a while. My first role was an extra in an independent film of a student at Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) for her senior project. I would go on to be an extra in several other films, including Marvel’s “Ant Man and The Wasp” and “Uncle Drew,” and tv series like ABC’s “Dynasty” and FaceBook TV’s “Queen America.” When I reached the end of my middle school years and started high school, I realized the pull to illustrate my own characters and create their unique stories were just too strong and completely overshadowed any interest I had in acting. Now, I yearn for the age of 2-D animation again. In a world where 3-D animation is dominant in the industry, I miss the magic of 2-D animation and the feeling films like “The Chipmuck Adventure” and “The Princess and the Frog” gave me even after the umpteenth time watching them. I decided illustration and character and world developing would be the best way to express myself. Throughout high school, I always lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different plots with them. When I’m stuck on a part of a test or homework assignment, or my ADD gets the better of me, I doodle in the margins. I don’t go anywhere without a sketch pad…or turning something into one. No matter where I go from here, I know my characters will follow.

The biggest mental health struggle that I’ve faced is dealing with my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, and my self-esteem. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up earlier and I get home later than most of my peers. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. Additionally, not being able to multitask easily bores me, leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Then, because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and mental health counselor, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. What my experiences with these struggles have taught me more than anything is to learn to live in the moment. Thinking of all the possibilities in the future and about what I couldn’t change in the past has often almost led me to ruining my present. The future is unknown and the past is gone. The only thing I can do and control is the present, which is exactly where I am. I express the emotions and experiences from my struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. The Camille Donaldson Memorial Scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their mental health struggles.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available, to be replenished every birthday and Christmas. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume...and because I often created my own character. My trademark was always ending my stories on a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All my tests and homework have doodles in the margins, and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. I approach my art knowing it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist, so I’ve never had an artist close to look up to and learn from. By enrolling in a diverse and robust collegiate art program, I hope to connect with students and professors who share my passion for art, enabling me to grow and contribute meaningfully to the art community. I will use funds from the Al Luna Memorial Design Scholarship to further develop my skills so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others and hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available, to be replenished every birthday and Christmas. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume...and because I often created my own character. My trademark was always ending my stories on a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All my tests and homework have doodles in the margins, and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. I approach my art knowing it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist, so I’ve never had an artist close to look up to and learn from. By enrolling in a diverse and robust collegiate art program, I hope to connect with students and professors who share my passion for art, enabling me to grow and contribute meaningfully to the art community. I will use funds from the Christal Carter Creative Arts Scholarship to further develop my skills so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others and hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends, and being grounded spiritually. While I was fortunate to have those emotional safe guards, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and now serve as the President of NSHS’s National Art Honor Society. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on NSHS’s literary magazine, “Echo.” I also didn't allow my circumstances to stop me from achieving academic excellence. I qualified for the Talented and Gifted classification for my county the same year I experienced homelessness. I have maintained a 4.0 throughout high school, in the dual magnet program with the concentrations of visual/graphic arts and math/science. Most of my classes have been honors, accelerated, Advanced Placement, or college Dual Enrollment courses. I scored a superscore of 26 on the ACT and 1180 on the SAT. And I've been named Student of the Week and Student of the Month. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding from the Chidubé Bobby Lee Green, Jr. Nkiruka Memorial Scholarship, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. At the end of middle school is when I started taking my art seriously. I started seeing it as a future profession instead of just a hobby. My mom has been very supportive and tries her best to get me involved in many opportunities to strengthen my skills and gain exposure. I won many art-related contests in 4-H in middle school, various art-related contests in high school, and now serve as the President of NSHS’s National Art Honor Society. My most proud achievements are receiving a full scholarship to Savannah College of Art and Design’s summer program two years in a row and recently being awarded Georgia Scholastic Press Association's Superior Artwork for my work on NSHS’s literary magazine, “Echo.” Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding from the Julius Quentin Jackson Scholarship, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

I am most inspired by Jack Terry’s success despite the loss of his family. He used the horrific circumstances during his upbringing as fuel to make so many positive contributions to society. Adversity didn’t stop him from living his life to the fullest and aiding others in the process. Although, I’m not particularly interested in the wonders of geological engineering, psychoanalytic, or the military, as he was, I am interested in the arts and how they can be used to influence and motivate people. I hope to create art that inspires people to push past their past, as Jack did. Growing up in a single-parent household, there were constant financial struggles, despite not fully understanding the extent of them as a child. My early years were filled with the magic of picture books and cartoons, transporting me to worlds beyond my imagination. This ignited in me a passion for the arts. My mom could only afford the basic art supplies, but the basics were all I needed. Unfortunately for her, I once used them to draw a dinosaur on my bedroom floor while watching a show where drawings came to life. This love for art served as both an escape and inspiration, especially during a particularly difficult time when I experienced homelessness my last year of elementary school. During that year, we moved from one temporary home to another. Luckily, we always had the support of a loving extended family and close friends. That’s why I was most touched by the fact that Jack lost his family. Without my family, I would’ve really felt the effects of being homeless. While I was fortunate to have that emotional safe guard, the experience deepened my understanding of financial adversity and its impact. To cope, art became a beautiful distraction, and also a beautiful motivation. In the shows and films I’d watch, I often sought reflections of my own experiences. The moments when I’d see parts of myself in characters brought me a sense of hope. It made me realize how powerful representation can be for those feeling voiceless or unseen, and this fueled my desire to create art that could uplift and empower others in similar situations. I want to provide that same emotional support I’d received, offering a light to those navigating their own life struggles at a young age. Although financial constraints still limit me, commitment to my education and self-improvement drives me. However, it’s getting more difficult to not be hindered by economic limitations. Attending college will provide me with the knowledge necessary to hone my craft and transform my passion into a career that’ll contribute to a better society. I aim to create characters with stories of resilience and hope through adversity, like Jack’s story, connecting individuals through shared experiences. With funding from the Jack Terry Memorial Scholarship, I can focus on my studies without the burden of financial stress. The adversity I’ve faced has shaped my aspirations and solidified my commitment to using my voice through art. Ultimately, my goal is to create representation in the arts that contributes to healing, inspiring hope, and bringing joy to those who need it most.

Death to Bliss The death of my childhood marks the end of my blissful ignorance. One of my favorite digital art pieces that I have created is titled, “Death to Bliss.” It represents my perspective on the current state of America. As I’ve grown up, I’ve become increasingly more aware of the complexities of the world around me. While that is a crucial aspect of growing up, I often miss the simplicity and magic of my youth. My nostalgia is refreshed whenever I immerse myself in animated films crafted with love and passion. Animation ignited my passion for the arts and provided an escape from the harsh realities of experiencing homelessness and the state of economic turmoil within America at the time I was becoming of age. In a society where I often feel so helpless politically, I aspire to empower others through representation in animated film and media. Creating art allows me to visualize my emotions and experiences, ensuring that those who share similar feelings feel heard and understood. In the foreground, there is a calm natural scene juxtaposed with tennis shoes hanging from a tree. In many urban, minority populated areas, shoes hanging from a wire can mean a marker for someone’s death, especially that of a child. In my piece, it signifies a marker for my childhood dying in general; and more specifically, not knowing what this meant as a kid seeing it in the city I grew up, Atlanta, GA, but knowing the grim truth behind it now. The waves represent not only global climate change effecting the weather, but also a reference to Noah’s Ark. The waves represent the need to restart amongst the chaos. The buildings represent industrialization and city life contributing the global climate change through smog. The torn American flag represents my feelings about the direction of the country and how the positive perception of America globally is coming apart at the seams. The intact plane represents that although there is a recent stigma about the increase of plane crashes, it turns out, according to the National Transportation Safety Board, this past year has not had a significant uptick in crashes so far when compared to the period between 2014-2024. Despite that fact, there is a lot of fear centered around traveling due to plane accidents being publicized more than usual. In conclusion, “Death to Bliss,” serves as both a visualization of the US in my perspective and a call to action through which I can advocate for representation, connection, and understanding in a world that often feels divided. Art has the power not just to represent reality, but to inspire change; and it is in this spirit that I vow to continue to create. As a Black girl, it has been challenging to find authentic and appropriate representation of myself in the arts. There's a persistent struggle to amplify our voices within the narratives that shape society. Through my art, I want to carve out a space not only for my own voice, but also for others who resonate with my journey. I hope to inspire kids like me, showing them that a place exists where they can express themselves and be seen for who they truly are. With, “Death to Bliss”, my hope is that this piece, alongside my continued work in art media, can foster a sense of community and understanding among those who view it. Through art, I strive to create a narrative that educates while empowering and uplifting, giving voice to stories often left untold.

As I start, my mind first wandered to the 1st place 4-H metal I received for Project Achievement, after a year of preparation and overcoming public speaking anxiety. This was my first definition of success: having a goal, working hard at it, then accomplishing it. But as time changed, so did I, as did my definition of success. While success has one definition, “accomplishing an aim or a purpose,” I don’t believe how success looks is universal. Usually, when someone is called “successful,” it correlates with material wealth, fame, and/or dominance. I’ve grown to see success as defined by the philosophy Epicureanism. To be happy physically, mentally, and socially would make my life a success. With that successful life I’d inspire the next generation using art. Receiving the Redefining Victory Scholarship, added to the maximum Academic Honors Scholarship I received from my school of choice, would help me achieve it. What’s Epicureanism, you ask? I can assure you it’s not a new method of self-care combining a manicure with a pedicure. It’s actually not new at all; it was developed in 370 BCE by the Greek philosopher, Epicurus. To describe his philosophy in my own words, true happiness is a life in moderation and balance. Being happy all the time is unrealistic, but it’s possible to be content overall. Epicurus spoke on pitfalls of materialism. The natural things that make a person happy provide a sense of peace. His view, and I agree, is that basing success on material gains will never lead to happiness because it’s insatiable. That’s unsuccessful in my eyes. To be physically happy, my body would be healthy, yet I still being able to have “cheat days” on occasion. Limiting myself from all “unhealthy” foods indefinitely wouldn’t make me happy, however indulging without limit wouldn’t either…at least the consequences wouldn’t. The balance I learned from my mom is combining foods I do like with foods I need. Like having a burger with a salad. Another example, working out in moderation. Of course, my body would thank me for the exercise; however, I don’t need to overexert myself by longing of a specific body shape. Maintaining the right balance to be physically happy spills over to my mental wellbeing. Mental wellbeing is a huge part of happiness for me. Positive mental health can be a result of a lot of actions. Learning to let go of past traumas and grievances is a big issue I look to get better at tackling as I mature. Continuing to gain emotional intelligence when it comes to not only my own emotions, but handling those of others is just as important. And being able to recognize when I’m too stressed and need a break versus needing to be more productive and less distracted will serve me well through life. Beyond my own mental health habits, being surrounded socially by likeminded people who have positive mental health habits is another aspect of a successful life in my opinion. Socially, I aspire to have a nontoxic immediate family and positive group of close friends. The health of my family is the most obvious sign that I’ve been successful in my life. Having seen a lot of broken families growing up, including my own, I’d love to break that generational curse and have a loving family unit who stays together. I’ve been blessed to have some great childhood friendships, but they have been few. I look to grow my friendship group as I grow, while strengthening the bonds I currently have. Resilient love and honest friendships cannot be bought with money. Although, money can buy good healthcare and counseling services, the people you love and enjoy spending time with are the ones worth living a good life for. Having people worth living for is the biggest part of what I deem as being successful. Having a balanced, healthy, and happy life not only helps me. My goal is to have a career helping and inspiring others through my creativity and art, especially connecting with children and amplify their voices. I plan to major in illustration and minor in creative writing at Savannah College of Art and Design. A huge source of stress for me is affording this necessary step of my journey. This scholarship will allow me to focus my energy on further developing my talent with one less barrier to my happiness. To conclude, happiness in moderation through the physical, mental and social aspect of life is my definition of success. With a balanced, healthy, and happy life, I hope to inspire others through my art and I’d use this scholarship to do fund my education to do so. Who knows, I may help a generation find their own definition of success and the world will be a better place because of it!

Growing up, whenever my heart would feel something strongly, it would be difficult for me to find the words and confidence to express it. But I could always write or draw how I felt. That came easy. I thank my mom for instilling in me the love of books, because that is what made all the difference in me discovering my voice and myself. Picture books initially inspired me to become an artist. Once I got older, fiction and nonfiction books, overtime, helped improve my vocabulary to better communicate my feelings and gain confidence in doing so. And literacy has not only helped me maintain great grades in school, but has helped me advocate for myself. My first introduction to books was as a toddler. My mom amassed a mini library of children’s books for me to enjoy. Even before I could read, the way picture books visually convey plot and themes helped me comprehend complex ideas. Two of my favorite children’s books with expressive pictures are “please, baby, please,” by Spike Lee and Tonya Lewis Lee and the Sesame Street classic, “The Monster at the End of this Book,” by Jon Stone. The beautiful details drawn in these books, and many other picture books I enjoyed at a very young age, aided my comprehension of the words my mom would read to me at bed time. This was what inspired me to get into drawing my own characters and creating their unique stories. As a child, I would see my mother constantly read news articles and nonfiction books on issues that mattered to her. She would also re-read many of her favorite fiction books she discovered in her youth. Many of them became some of my favorites too, like “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry,” by Mildred D. Taylor and “The Westing Game,” by Ellen Raskin. And we would discover new books to read together, such as “Children of Blood and Bone,” by Tomi Adeyemi. Every summer, we would visit the library at least once a week, and she would assign books to me, both fiction and nonfiction, that she thought I would be interested in. This influence helped me excel in school despite struggling with ADHD and generalized anxiety. My mom has always been assured and confident in voicing her opinions no matter where she was speaking or who she was speaking to, and always has the research and knowledge to back it up factually. But, because of my anxiety, I found it hard to advocate for myself. Anytime I tried to speak up for myself, I would frequently think what was the point in wasting my energy when no one is listening or cares? So, my safe space was in reading, writing, and drawing. However, I found through books like “The Hate U Give,” by Angie Thomas and “All The Black Girls are Activists,” by ebonyjanice, the push to not give up on myself. “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” This quote by Zora Neale Hurston emphasizes the importance of using my words. Self-advocacy is not an easy feat for me; reading books that represented who I was pushed me to grow into who I am. With this award, I would fund my education in illustration and creative writing. I hope to create works of art from my experience growing up that will help kids develop the love of literacy early on, as I did, and it continues for a life time. And I hope little Black girls find my books and are inspired to advocate for themselves.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available, to be replenished every birthday and Christmas. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume...and because I often created my own character. My trademark was always ending my stories on a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All my tests and homework have doodles in the margins, and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. I approach my art knowing it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist, so I’ve never had an artist close to look up to and learn from. By enrolling in a diverse and robust collegiate art program, I hope to connect with students and professors who share my passion for art, enabling me to grow and contribute meaningfully to the art community. My goal is to further develop my skills so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others and hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized social anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

My professional aspiration is to create authentically diverse characters in the film/tv industry. I strive to bringing depth and complexity to representations of underrepresented ethnicities, skin tones and lifestyles. I am driven by the belief that accurate diversity goes beyond the appearance of a character; it entails characters who resonate with audiences through their unique cultures, lifestyles, and personalities. I find inspiration for character designs in the most mundane objects and transform those ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience. A key motivation for my artwork is the desire to see accurate and relatable representation on screen. Representation in film and tv has been a critical topic of discussion lately, especially since 2020. While many creators succeed in including diverse characters, often times the execution falls short, resulting in representation that feels more like a checkbox than an authentic portrayal. My focus would be on creating works of visual storytelling that prioritize natural and accurate representation, going beyond mere tokenism to create characters whose identities—be it race, ethnicity, sexuality, or disability—are integral to their narratives. As an African American woman, I find myself frustrated by the lack of depth in characters who are supposed to serve the purpose of representation. I’ve noticed a pattern where characters are reduced to stereotypes that don’t accurately represent the diverse personalities of the minority they’re representing. My goal would be to create stories that include multi-dimensional and relatable characters. Additionally, I’m passionate about addressing the portrayal of different races in varying skin tones. It’s very common for many African Americans, Asians, and those who are ethnically Hispanic to be depicted with lighter skin tones primarily. This not only impacts how these communities are perceived but also affects self-image among individuals who don’t fit these limited representations. I aim to challenge this norm by celebrating the full spectrum of skin tones and experiences within these communities, showcasing the beauty and diversity that exists in reality. I am committed to creating new stories with new characters, rather than recreating old narratives to lazily fit a more diverse cast. Through my studies at a robust collegiate art program, I hope to refine my skills and bring my vision to life, creating art that inspires and uplifts those who see themselves in my characters. Authentic representation matters, and I am dedicated to contributing to a film and tv industry where everyone can find stories that reflect their realities and aspirations. My hope is to inspire others to embrace their identities and understand that they are more than just stereotypes needed for entertainment. Being inspired by seemingly mundane objects, like a paperclip or bracelet, is how my character-designing process usually starts. I then craft complex narratives by exploring my characters’ origin stories, motivations, and environments. Getting lost in transforming those initial ideas into characters who reflect the richness of our shared human experience, the entire character creation process captivates me. The exploration of the breadth of the human experience sparks my creativity. Each of my characters is a unique puzzle, where every piece contributes to a cohesive and compelling narrative. Ultimately, my aspiration is to create characters in stories that promote understanding and empathy, allowing individuals to feel highlighted. Through my illustrations and storytelling, I want to build a more inclusive world within film, where diversity is accurate and detailed. I believe putting authentic voices and experiences in the spotlight will inspire a broader spectrum of people throughout our society. By doing so, I hope to inspire underrepresented people, like myself, who may not see themselves in mainstream media often.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that seems often against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I maintain a regular schedule of attending counseling sessions to get professional help with my mental health struggles. And I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. Both have helped me immensely. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities and mental health struggles.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that seems often against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities and mental health struggles.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom, as well as my mental health. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines, taking tests, and my self-esteem. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. It has led to my struggles with mental health and self-confidence. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing and my self-esteem, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and a world that seems often against me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence and mental health struggles, turning them into a source of strength and inspiration rather than barriers to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities and mental health struggles.

The biggest educational barrier I’ve faced is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions feed off of each other and significantly impact my academic life, both inside and outside the classroom. Although I’ve been able to manage them better after understanding my diagnosis and obtaining accommodations, I still struggle with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. In class, I’m easily distracted and find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks a thought to wander to dinner. All of a sudden, I find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling because art has always been a source of comfort for me. At home with sparse notes, I now face the task of completing my homework or studying. Before I know it, now it’s close to midnight and I’m frantically trying to finish my homework and/or studying to get ready for bed. In high school it has been even harder because I have to wake up extra early. Due to being a dual magnet student and bussing in from a different school zone, my commute is around 1 hour each way. And taking tests, especially standardized tests, seems impossible. I frequently run out of time because the slightest noise or movement sends my mind wondering. And then not being able to multitask easily bores me leading my imagination to come to the “rescue.” Because I’m constantly the last one still working on the test, my anxiety then kicks in as EVERYone seems to be staring at and whispering about me holding up them being able to leave. This cycle has been my educational life from pre-school on. However, after being diagnosed, obtaining accommodations, and getting help from my family, teachers, and counselors, I’ve made a significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success. I express the emotions and experiences from my experiences and struggles in my art. I’m eager to immerse myself in a robust collegiate art program’s diverse and learned environment; where I hope to contribute as much as I will receive, honing my skills to create unique and authentic visual narratives that resonate and inspire positive change globally. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education in the arts, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. With these skills, my goal is to help others like me embrace the positives and overcome the negatives of their disabilities.

“Would you rather have one parent or two?” A question that most would answer similarly. Growing up in a single-parent household, I became conscious of the negative portrayal of single-parent families within movies, TV shows and social media. This poor representation led to feelings of inadequacy and insecurity. While I do recognize that it’s usually ideal for children to be raised with both parents, it’s important to acknowledge that single-parent households and blended families are increasingly common. This has inspired me to create my own characters and stories to counter this negative portrayal. In an age where representation matters more than ever, it’s crucial for media to evolve and reflect the realities of modern family life, including the many diverse forms that family can take. Currently, when the media does choose to portray single-parent households, it often highlights only the struggles associated with them. Whether it be financial difficulties, emotional tolls, or negative societal perceptions. These portrayals often fail to capture the complexity and beauty of these family dynamics. Children who come from single-parent homes, like me, grow up feeling a sense of shame or inadequacy, believing that their family structure is less valid than those where both parents are present. This can also lead to guilt in parents who may feel they’re failing their children by not providing a "traditional" family structure. Positive representation in media can offer a sense of empowerment to single parents who may feel marginalized or overlooked. It’s never normally in a parent’s plans to be a single parent. Positive representation gives a sense of consoling for someone’s circumstances, whereas negative representation rubs salt into already fresh wounds. Life is not perfect, and families in life are often formed out of circumstances that exceed our control; acknowledging this reality in popular media can help to normalize single-parent households and blended families, allowing for a more positive and accepting outlook of different dynamics and circumstances within families. With my artistic talents, I aspire to create stories that illuminate these relationships, showcasing the love, warmth, and resilience that exist within single-parent households. I was heavily influenced in this goal by media that breaks this stereotype, like the relationship between Master Splinter and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Their story offers a refreshing perspective on family, portraying the bond between a father figure and his “adopted” sons amidst trials and tribulations. Master Splinter's dedication to teaching and nurturing the Turtles showcases the love, loyalty, and strength that can arise from non-traditional family settings. It served as a reminder to me that family isn’t just defined by traditional structures, but rather by the love and commitment that individuals contribute to their familial relationships. Through the guidance and mentorship of Master Splinter, the Turtles find their self-confidence through identity and purpose. Likewise, I believe my mother has been instrumental in not only helping me develop as a person and an artist, but she has connected me with other parental figures who have been just as influential in my growth. To conclude, as our world continues evolving, so should the narratives we create and consume. By promoting positive depictions of single-parent households and blended families, we can aid in dismantling negative stereotypes and shame, and instead contribute to a more inclusive society. Every child is deserving of seeing their family reflected in the stories they love, reminding them that love, commitment, and resilience are at the heart of what makes a family, regardless of its structure. I hope to create narratives in the media that I wish I saw more of growing up.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. From a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. And in elementary school, I would create graphic novels each year for Halloween because we were required to bring a book to match our costume, and my costume-characters were my own creation. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. Books have been my guiding light in this journey. They have taught me about diverse narratives and have shaped my desire to create art that reflects a multitude of perspectives. Works like “The Artist’s Way,” by Julia Cameron inspired and instructed me on how to unlock my creativity, whilst graphic novels from Marvel served as inspiration as a medium for powerful visual storytelling. Both demonstrated how art could shape the world by speaking about experiences that might otherwise remain unheard. They have strengthened my passion and elevated my skills for creating visual stories that inspire, empower, and spark social change. In the summer last year, I worked at an art-based youth summer camp for two months as an assistant camp counselor. I was able to lead kids from age 3 to 7, around the age I first discovered my love of art. And this year, my senior year, as President of my National Art Honors Society chapter, I’ve not only grown as a leader, I’ve helped my peers as officers develop as leaders as well. The beginning was rough, so I sought advice from professional leaders. After rearranging officer roles based on their strengths and weaknesses, we’re now a cohesive team. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom as a single-parent, no one close to me is an artist. My goal is to further develop my skills at a robust collegiate art program so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others. This scholarship will be a crucial step in helping me gain the opportunity to further my education, giving me the tools to refine my skills and broaden my knowledge. I strive to create art that doesn’t only entertain, but also reflects our shared humanity, explores critical social issues, and fosters connection in an individualistic world. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. From a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist so I’ve never had one close to me to look up to and learn from. Despite not knowing what my future holds, I know I’m enthralled by illustration and story-telling. My goal is to further develop my skills at a robust art collegiate art program so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

In college, my focus will be on learning how best to display authentic representation of diverse communities in film/tv. This issue has gained attention recently, yet many creators rely on tokenism instead of delivering genuine portrayals. As an African-American woman, I’m drained by the shallow depictions of minorities that reduce and limit us to stereotypes. My goal is to refine my skills in a robust art program and perfect how to create multi-dimensional, relatable characters whose identities, while integral to their narratives, also connect to others outside of those who share their identities. By celebrating the full spectrum of under-represented communities and experiences, I aim to showcase the richness and value of reality. And I’m dedicated to the challenge of crafting new stories as opposed to simply diversifying existing familiar narratives. The biggest barrier I’ve faced in my life is my neurodivergence, specifically being diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and generalized anxiety. These conditions significantly impact my life, both academically and personally. Before I understood my diagnosis and learned about accommodations I had access to, I struggled immensely with taking notes, meeting assignment deadlines and taking tests. Difficulties in school would make me even more anxious in my personal life and my view of myself was negatively impacted. In class, I always find my focus slipping away constantly. A smell sparks my thoughts to wander to dinner. I suddenly find myself wondering how to pronounce “Worcestershire” sauce; from there, I question who invented it and what it’s actually made of. By the time the bell rings, I’ve only managed to write down a few words in my notes to accompany a bunch of doodling. At home with sparse notes, I face the task of completing my homework or studying, which I’m constantly not able to do in enough time to get to bed at a good time. Taking tests, especially standardized tests, often seems impossible. Before obtaining extended time accommodations, I’d always run out of time. And before obtaining small group accommodations, because I was constantly the last one, my anxiety would kick in as EVERYone seemed to be staring at and whispering about me holding them up from being able to leave. This cycle has been my life from as long as I can remember. Obtaining 504 accommodations, getting help from my family and teachers, and regular mental-health counseling has allowed me to make significant improvement in being able to manage it. Although I still encounter challenges, especially with standardized testing, I’m slowly learning how to navigate an educational environment that isn’t suited for learners like me and to practice self-love in a world that seems very antagonistic at times. I’m determined to embrace my neurodivergence, turning it into a source of strength and inspiration rather than a barrier to my success, and love myself in the process.

Volunteering at HeadCount has opened my eyes to how many people are reluctant to use their voices when it comes to voting. At HeadCount, my role is to ensure that people are registered to vote and guide those who are not through the registration process. In my experience, I’ve encountered many adults who hesitate to even register to vote, especially those affected by systemic racism. This deep issue complicates the voting process and deters many from participating in what should be a fundamental right. Despite the importance of using our voices to create a community that is cohesive, I find that many individuals, especially within the African American community, lack awareness of the significance of voting. Our voices are often silenced, which makes the opportunity to vote even more crucial. I believe that fighting for our right to vote will create long-term benefits for our community and other communities of minorities. It’s essential that we research and vote in elections because our votes are the loudest way of advocating for ourselves and our communities. Through my experience, I’ve come to realize that education about the voting process and why it matters, how to register, and when to vote, is more necessary than ever. By continuing to volunteer at HeadCount, I hope to see more people to register and engage in the electoral process as time goes on. I hope to contribute to advocating for my community by voting when I am of age. Together, I believe my community can work toward a representative democracy that ensures our community's concerns and needs are heard and addressed. In addition, serving as the President of my school’s National Art Honors Society has been an enriching experience that has not only allowed me to improve my own leadership skills, but I’ve also helped my peers develop as leaders. At the start of the school year, our chapter had officers with potential to excel, but many hadn’t fully embraced their roles. It became clear that with some guidance and support, we could collectively transform into a cohesive team. The beginning was rough. I felt alone in my excitement and dedication to make the year great. I’d assign tasks that would be half-way done or not at all. And simple tasks that should be obvious required my specific and detailed instructions. I felt defeated and, at times, wanted to step down. After getting advice from professional leaders, I focused on understanding each officer’s strengths and weaknesses. By taking the time to communicate in ways that resonated with them, I was able to assign tasks that played into their individual strengths. This approach fostered an environment of trust and collaboration, enabling us to support each other in areas where we each had room for growth. For instance, an officer who struggled with organization but excelled in creativity, I rearranged roles so that officer could focus only on creative aspects of our events while another officer handled the event planning responsibilities. As we worked together, I noticed a shift in how my peers interacted with the rest of the members. They became confident and engaged leaders, showing an understanding of what it takes to effectively run events and inspire participation. This growth has been not only rewarding to witness, but a sign of the positive impact we can have on one another. I'm confident that, as we learn from our experiences this year, our chapter will continue to thrive in the future. I look forward to seeing how the skills we have worked on this year will help the underclassmen who will serve in leadership positions next year.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. From a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I approach my art knowing it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design's Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist so I’ve never had one close to me to look up to and learn from. My goal is to further develop my skills with the help of peers and professors at a robust collegiate art program so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others. And hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL of my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way “Tom and Jerry: Classics Collections” visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. From a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I approach my art knowing it holds the potential to spark conversations, inspire empathy, and celebrate diversity. Before I could read, I had every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet after watching a show where drawings came to life. Illustration wasn’t the only artistic interest I showed early; I thoroughly enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls, including a few cheating scandals, to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come dressed as because we were required to bring a book to school to match our costume. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All of my tests and homework have doodles in the margins and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art and Design's Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. Although I’m grateful for the consistent support from my mom, no one close to me is an artist so I’ve never had one close to me to look up to and learn from. My goal is to further develop my skills with the help of peers and professors at a robust collegiate art program so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others. And hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.

A trance is the best word I could use to describe it. There I was, glued to the couch in awe as I watched something that captured ALL my attention…which was pretty hard to do for a toddler struggling with ADHD. Little did I know, this moment was an omen revealing the course my life would take. Although I could’ve been watching any new show for kids my age; instead, I was mesmerized by the timeless “Tom and Jerry.” Not even the newer version, the “Classics Collection” is what commanded my full concentration. Of course, I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but it was the way the show visually and audibly conveyed plot and character that won me over. With strictly 2-D animation to dazzle the eyes and classical music to shore up emotions, from a very young age I knew that’s what I wanted to do. Before I could read, I had an art desk fully stocked with every age-appropriate art supply available. Unfortunately for my mom, I used them to draw a 5’x4’ brontosaurus across my bedroom carpet. I also enjoyed creating narratives. I would perform puppet shows so enthralling one of my preschool teachers demanded my mom enroll me in puppetry-art classes because she was so invested in my stories. As I entered elementary school, I continued to design characters and construct plotlines. From the intricate relationships between my dolls to the graphic novels I created for Halloween any year I didn’t own a book of the character I wanted to come to school dressed as. My trademark was always ending my stories in a cliffhanger to be picked up for the next time I played or in anticipation of the next book. Still today, I constantly lose track of time sketching characters, writing their back stories, and theorizing about different scenarios involving them. All my tests and homework have doodles in the margins, and I don’t go anywhere without my sketch pad and iPad Pro. Through a full scholarship to the Savannah College of Art & Design Summer Seminars program two summers in a row, I got a taste of what it would be like to attend college as an art student. It further solidified that this is the path for me. My creations aren’t just a hobby, they are powerful explorations of my dreams. By enrolling in a robust collegiate art program, I hope to connect with students and professors who share my passion for art, enabling me to grow and contribute meaningfully to the art community. My goal is to further develop my skills so that I’m able to showcase my passion to others and hopefully they too can see the beauty and magic of visual storytelling that I fell in love with as a little girl. Who knows, maybe there is a little one waiting to be glued to the couch in a trance watching something I create with awe.