Relationships form who you are because they are a part of the whole. There will always be a totally complete image of you in your head. Few others see your true face, or what's inside of you. Even you yourself can't see who you truly are. However, relationships are unions that almost force you into change. Because two people make one union, sometimes you need to compromise for it to work. From 2023 to 204, I underwent a journey of change, a change I believed would help me let go of moments that replayed in my head. Actions that could not be changed were at the forefront of my mind, and I decided to take a path of not letting those feelings impede who I am. I could go as far as I wanted, and if I failed, then that was just what happened. Eventually, even after all that, putting it into practice, I kept winning and winning at life, where others had failed, achieving what I sought through academic excellence at Morehouse College. It came at a cost; the more I won, the more the thought of failing crept up on me. My current girlfriend, Kaira, came into my life almost without warning. Our lives could not have been more different right from the beginning. What she showed me was that failure is inevitable. If I did, the world would keep spinning. The act of failure is not a crime, nor will it destroy me. More than anything, Kaira allows me to feel human, not that I believed I was never human, but that human was all that I was. Making mistakes is something you have to live with; if you can fix them, do so. The greatest change comes from accepting the world as it is. I accepted Kaira for who she was, just as she did for me. However, just because we accepted that about one another does not mean we can't both keep changing. Nothing stays in the same place as the world continues to move, and what she has brought to my professional and personal goals is the ability to branch out. My original goals were straight and narrow, safe ones I could tangibly see with the skills and knowledge I had acquired. Being a tenured African American history professor was the end-all be-all for me, and in my head, I didn't really see a way that I could divert from that. However, as graduation grew closer, and I had already applied to graduate school for my Master's of Arts in History, I realized I had more to offer than just research. I loved teaching, but I did not want to spend endless hours researching to keep doing it. The application of teaching and mentoring was what mattered most to me. From there, I found that I was capable of leading others through the realm of education, not just my students, but all those who wish to learn. In terms of personal goals and growth, being with Kaira has opened my eyes to traveling. There is more to life than work, and I want to experience those aspects of life that I would miss if I just focused on work and school for the rest of my life.

As a recent graduate of Morehouse College, I strive to embody integrity, perseverance, service, leadership, and scholarship in my daily life. These five characteristics serve as the core of my personality and inspire my desire to become an educator and institutional leader in higher education. Integrity is the compass that guides my life. Whether I'm mentoring younger students, submitting academic work, or conducting community events, I strive for honesty and integrity. Integrity entails being accountable to both my ideals and those who trust me, particularly the kids who will one day turn to me as a professor and mentor. Perseverance has shaped much of my intellectual and personal experience. As a Black student-athlete in cross country and track, fields with limited representation, I've learned to persevere in the face of adversity, whether it's cultural isolation, physical tiredness, or structural impediments. This same tenacity now propels me through the demanding course of doctoral study. I understand that long-term change does not occur easily, but I am committed to that marathon. For me, service is not an option; it is a responsibility. I've volunteered as a literacy tutor, mentored undergrads, and contributed to campus projects that promote fairness and access. My dedication to service derives from the notion that knowledge should be used to empower communities, particularly those who have historically been oppressed. Leadership, for me, entails creating settings in which others can thrive. It is not about exerting control, but rather about cultivating vision, trust, and collaborative progress. As a team captain in athletics and an academic organizer, I've learned that leadership takes both hearing and speaking, as well as a desire to bridge differences. I want to run institutions that not only create knowledge but also promote social good. Scholarship is my ultimate passion. I'm seeking a master's degree in history because I believe education, particularly historical awareness, is the most effective tool we have for changing society. History allows us to contextualize the present, question dominant narratives, and envision a more equitable future. I want to teach because I see classrooms as sacred venues for critical thought, transformation, and freedom. My ultimate objective is to become a professor and, eventually, a college president. I want to help shape the next generation of scholars and change-makers while also promoting inclusive and forward-thinking academic environments. I pursue this route not for prestige, but because I believe strongly in education's ability to foster empathy, improve awareness, and alter the world. At every level, I strive to lead with heart and purpose, building on Morehouse's ideals and continuing the heritage of service, excellence, and empowerment that the world so desperately needs.

If I could create a class that every student from kindergarten through 12th grade would be required to take, it would be called “Foundations of Self: Identity, Purpose, and Integrity.” This course would go beyond surface-level discussions of race, class, or nationality and ask deeper, lifelong questions: Who am I? What do I stand for? Why do I believe what I believe? And most importantly, how do I live a life that reflects my values with both courage and compassion? As a graduate of Morehouse College—a place that taught me not only how to think, but how to be—I understand the power of education to transform the self. But before a young person can truly change the world, they need to understand who they are. This doesn’t mean having all the answers at once. It means learning how to reflect, how to sit with discomfort, how to ask hard questions, and grow through them. This isn’t hypothetical for me. I’ve spent a decade running track and cross country—training, winning, losing, falling behind, and pushing through. There’s a strange clarity you gain in the discipline of running. Your body hits a wall, but your mind has to decide: Do I stop here, or do I find something deeper in myself? That kind of grit doesn’t just apply to athletics. It applies to life. It’s part of identity—the part built through struggle and commitment. In “Foundations of Self,” students would explore the many threads that shape who they are: family, faith, gender, geography, experience, culture, and yes, race and class—but not as end points. The goal would be to examine these threads honestly, to untangle them when necessary, and to learn how to weave them into a self that is rooted, resilient, and responsible. Students would write personal manifestos. They would practice civil discourse and learn how to defend their ideas without dehumanizing others. They would be asked, again and again, what kind of person do you want to be when no one is watching? As a Black man, I know that America often tries to reduce us to pain or performance. But identity is richer than oppression, and deeper than perception. It's spiritual. It's moral. It's built in silence and service, in relationships and resistance. This class would give every child—regardless of their background—a space to grow with intention, to develop integrity, and to realize that they are not powerless in the shaping of their character. The impact? I believe it would be generational. A society that teaches its young people to lead from within would value compassion over competition, authenticity over image, and responsibility over apathy. It would build people who don’t just follow trends but shape futures—people who know why they’re here and who they’re committed to becoming. This class would not be about giving students all the answers. It would be about giving them the tools to ask better questions. Because when you know yourself, you move through the world with purpose. And when you move with purpose, you can’t be easily broken, bought, or bent. You stand.