While visiting my family in St. Louis, Missouri in July 2019, I found my maternal grandmother deceased in her bed. She suffered a heart attack and died in her sleep. It crippled my sense of being, as well as my creativity, because my grandma - Grandma Sheryl - was my best friend. She supported everything I did from animation workshops, securing the correct software, and through her funding, we traveled the world together. Even when she operated from her disciplinary side, she governed from a place of love, and not with harsh punishments. Grandma Sheryl was my North star, and without her, I had no direction. My parents tried to help as much as they could, but they couldn't do it on their own. All of it came to a head in January 2020, when my teacher discovered a suicide note that I wrote. Because of that, I was forced into behavioral therapy, which the best solution for us all. Through counseling, I gained tools to manage my depression, anxiety and actually grieve the loss of Grandma Sheryl. It wasn't easy at first, but I was able to put the tools into practice, which helped in staying grounded in my spirit. Then the pandemic happened. In addition to grieving, I had to pivot in my way of learning and socializing with friends, because of social distancing. It was a lot of change, and it was fast, yet still I rose to the occasion, and I received honors recognition during middle school graduation. In addition, I spoke to symposium of charter school teachers on how they could be better allies to students in the LGBTQ community. I myself identify as non-binary. While still managing my mental health, I skated through freshman and sophomore year of high school, barely getting by in my classes. During the summer of being a rising junior, I received an opportunity that changed my life. My cousin Kathy offered to take me into her home in Columbus, Georgia, where I finished high school. My family and I didn't enter the decision lightly, but we knew it was exactly what I needed. With her support, I turned my grades around, and gained a desire to attend college. I began participating in activities that once brought me joy, like singing, and musical theater. Through those activities, I realized how powerful my voice is, literally and theoretically. With that, I turned my sights on attending Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD. I applied to several schools, but SCAD was my top choice. I was overjoyed when I received my offer letter. Through my challenges, I managed to make the Dean's list last quarter with a 4.0 GPA. I knew that I was capable of doing anything I put my mind to. My one hundred and eighty degree experience went from being anxiety ridden to being intentional with my purpose. I am excited to become a screenwriter, and write stories for film and tv about young adults who overcome their adversity, and rise like the phoenix from the ashes. With your financial assistance, I will be one step closer to achieving my dreams.

While visiting my family in St. Louis, Missouri in July 2019, I found my maternal grandmother deceased in her bed. She suffered a heart attack and died in her sleep. It crippled my sense of being, as well as my creativity, because my grandma - Grandma Sheryl - was my best friend. She supported everything I did from animation workshops, securing the correct software, and through her funding, we traveled the world together. Even when she operated from her disciplinary side, she governed from a place of love, and not with harsh punishments. Grandma Sheryl was my North star, and without her, I had no direction. My parents tried to help as much as they could, but they couldn't do it on their own. All of it came to a head in January 2020, when my teacher discovered a suicide note that I wrote. Because of that, I was forced into behavioral therapy, which the best solution for us all. Through counseling, I gained tools to manage my depression, anxiety and actually grieve the loss of Grandma Sheryl. It wasn't easy at first, but I was able to put the tools into practice, which helped in staying grounded in my spirit. Then the pandemic happened. In addition to grieving, I had to pivot in my way of learning and socializing with friends, because of social distancing. It was a lot of change, and it was fast, yet still I rose to the occasion, and I received honors recognition during middle school graduation. In addition, I spoke to symposium of charter school teachers on how they could be better allies to students in the LGBTQ community. I myself identify as non-binary. While still managing my mental health, I skated through freshman and sophomore year of high school, barely getting by in my classes. During the summer of being a rising junior, I received an opportunity that changed my life. My cousin Kathy offered to take me into her home in Columbus, Georgia, where I finished high school. My family and I didn't enter the decision lightly, but we knew it was exactly what I needed. With her support, I turned my grades around, and gained a desire to attend college. I began participating in activities that once brought me joy, like singing, and musical theater. Through those activities, I realized how powerful my voice is, literally and theoretically. With that, I turned my sights on attending Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD. I applied to several schools, but SCAD was my top choice. I was overjoyed when I received my offer letter. Through my challenges, I managed to make the Dean's list last quarter with a 4.0 GPA. I knew that I was capable of doing anything I put my mind to. My one hundred and eighty degree experience went from being anxiety ridden to being intentional with my purpose. I am excited to become a screenwriter, and write stories for film and tv about young adults who overcome their adversity, and rise like the phoenix from the ashes.

After my grandmother passed away, I struggled to use my voice in ways I never had before. She was my emotional safe place—the person who encouraged me to speak honestly, ask questions, and trust that my words had value. Losing her didn’t just bring grief; it brought silence. I didn’t realize how deeply connected my confidence was to her presence until she was gone. The moment that stays with me most happened at her memorial service. Family members were invited to share memories, and several people urged me to speak because they knew how close we were. I stood up, holding pages of notes I had carefully written the night before. But as I looked out at the room, my throat tightened, my chest felt heavy, and my mind went blank. The words that meant everything to me suddenly felt impossible to say out loud. I sat back down, overwhelmed by grief and shame, feeling like I had failed her and myself. That experience didn’t end when the service did. In the weeks that followed, I noticed myself shrinking in conversations. I avoided sharing opinions, hesitated to speak up in group settings, and constantly second-guessed my thoughts. I was afraid of being too emotional, of saying the wrong thing, or of being seen as weak. Losing my grandmother felt like losing my strongest supporter, and without her reassurance, my confidence faltered. Over time, I began to understand that silence was part of my grief—not a personal flaw. I started writing letters to her in a journal, saying everything I couldn’t say that day. Slowly, those private words helped me process my emotions and rebuild my voice. I learned that communication doesn’t always have to happen in the moment. Sometimes, strength comes from allowing yourself time to heal before speaking. That experience reshaped my understanding of confidence. I used to believe confidence meant being composed and articulate at all times. Now I know it can also mean vulnerability, honesty, and courage—even when your voice shakes. My grandmother’s death taught me that my voice is not defined by perfection, but by authenticity. Looking forward, I hope to use my voice to create impact by speaking with empathy and intention. I want to tell stories that make space for grief, resilience, and growth—especially for people who feel unheard or uncertain. Losing my voice after my grandmother’s death ultimately helped me find a deeper one, rooted in compassion, purpose, and the courage to speak even when it’s hard.

While visiting my family in St. Louis, Missouri in July 2019, I found my maternal grandmother deceased in her bed. She suffered a heart attack and died in her sleep. It crippled my sense of being, as well as my creativity, because my grandma - Grandma Sheryl - was my best friend. She supported everything I did from animation workshops, securing the correct software, and through her funding, we traveled the world together. Even when she operated from her disciplinary side, she governed from a place of love, and not with harsh punishments. Grandma Sheryl was my North star, and without her, I had no direction. My parents tried to help as much as they could, but they couldn't do it on their own. All of it came to a head in January 2020, when my teacher discovered a suicide note that I wrote. Because of that, I was forced into behavioral therapy, which the best solution for us all. Through counseling, I gained tools to manage my depression, anxiety and actually grieve the loss of Grandma Sheryl. It wasn't easy at first, but I was able to put the tools into practice, which helped in staying grounded in my spirit. Then the pandemic happened. In addition to grieving, I had to pivot in my way of learning and socializing with friends, because of social distancing. It was a lot of change, and it was fast, yet still I rose to the occasion, and I received honors recognition during middle school graduation. In addition, I spoke to symposium of charter school teachers on how they could be better allies to students in the LGBTQ community. I myself identify as non-binary. While still managing my mental health, I skated through freshman and sophomore year of high school, barely getting by in my classes. During the summer of being a rising junior, I received an opportunity that changed my life. My cousin Kathy offered to take me into her home in Columbus, Georgia, where I finished high school. My family and I didn't enter the decision lightly, but we knew it was exactly what I needed. With her support, I turned my grades around, and gained a desire to attend college. I began participating in activities that once brought me joy, like singing, and musical theater. Through those activities, I realized how powerful my voice is, literally and theoretically. With that, I turned my sights on attending Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD. I applied to several schools, but SCAD was my top choice. I was overjoyed when I received my offer letter. Through my challenges, I managed to make the Dean's list last quarter with a 4.0 GPA. I knew that I was capable of doing anything I put my mind to. My one hundred and eighty degree experience went from being anxiety ridden to being intentional with my purpose. I am excited to become a screenwriter, and write stories for film and tv about young adults who overcome their adversity, and rise like the phoenix from the ashes.