Tenacity. That is the first word that comes to mind when I think about my family's journey to the United States. The first person from my family to immigrate to the U.S. was my maternal grandfather. Determined to give his family more than his parents could give him, my grandfather left his wife and nine children in Guyana and came to the States. On many occasions, he had to put his pride aside, having God and the hope of seeing his family prosper being his only motivation. I will never forget hearing about when my grandfather stood for hours in sewage hiding during an ICE raid at his workplace. As a girl who doesn't even like to walk barefoot in her own home, I can't even imagine the suffering he went through to bring his family to the U.S. My mother came years after my grandfather at 18 in November with nothing but a sundress, sandals, and some cash. While my mother took a leap of faith moving to a new country at 18, I spent my 18th birthday moving into my college dorm room, fulfilling a dream that developed years before my existence. My grandfather and mother have been my biggest cheerleaders regarding my education, pushing me to never settle and to always be the best version of myself. Their stories serve as a reminder that even the smallest opportunity can open the door to a better life. I aspire to be the first physician in my family and hope to spread the perseverance and love rooted in the Caribbean to my patients and their families. I am proud to be a current student at the Sophie Davis School of Biomedical Education and I will officially be Dr. Zakkiyya Fraser in 6 years thanks to my family's countless sacrifices.

I always questioned why they say the eye is the calmest part of the storm. I mean, with it being in the center of all the chaos how could it be? Growing up, I aimed to avoid the storm, focusing on the influence of the present on the future. I believed that conforming to the idea of what adults in my life perceived as the “perfect child” would keep me on an obstacle-free path. Looking back, I see how naïve I was, but it’s understandable, as my storm hadn’t reached the mainland yet. The storm’s arrival was quite unpredictable. Sunny skies one day and dark clouds the next. I had just finished getting some x-rays done at a “special” doctor and I was waiting for my results. The winds of the storm began to pick up as the doctor entered. The instant shift in mood as the images of my spine were displayed made my heart drop. The “s” on the screen made it clear that unfavorable news would follow. Thunder clapped as the words “Emergent surgery” filled the room. The storm made its presence known and my chaos had officially begun. The rain poured for months on end. The first few were full of heavy showers. I began to lose myself amidst the hazy veil produced by the series of appointments and tests. I quickly became stuck, reaching a point in my young life where I was finally forced to form an identity of my own. But I didn’t know how to handle the pressure of it all. As the days went by and the big day approached, I began to realize that the rain had the potential to turn into a hailstorm that would make its presence known. The surgery was long, and the week and a half spent afterward in the hospital were draining. But this was nothing in comparison to the recovery process that followed. As I returned to what was supposed to be a continuation of my life before the surgery, it became apparent that I would have to create a new sense of normalcy. The routine laid before me by those around me was constantly interrupted. Each day became dedicated to relearning tasks that I once took for granted. I couldn’t help but feel isolated, as no one around me could truly understand what I was going through. It was clear that I had to take time out to sit with myself and face the storm head-on. But I couldn’t do that without putting on my raincoat and boots first. I needed to embrace my true self; the version of me that was created by myself and not dictated by my desire to please those around me. The following month and a half consisted of a mix of gloomy days and bright skies. Ironically, spring was beginning to roll in, so my inner storm occasionally matched up with the weather. The good days were amazing, with progress being made physically and mentally. At the same time, the bad days were dark, and I often questioned if I would ever be able to truly find myself. But as they say, the greater your storm, the brighter your rainbow. Though the storm lasted longer than I expected, and its dark clouds decide to make an appearance now and then, I am forever grateful for its development. Dark clouds no longer faze me. I am the eye, forever surrounded by mayhem, but always grounded in myself.

Self-acceptance is a concept that takes on many different forms. For some people, it is complimenting themselves everyday. For others, it may be as simple as allowing themselves to get out of bed and face the day. For me, self-acceptance is a never-ending journey that embodies both of these things, as well as much more. Prior to freshman year, self-acceptance was a foreign idea to me. I had never thought about it before. But freshman year was harder than I expected. I began to pick my life apart, scrutinizing every detail about it. Finally, the school year came to an end. I spent about two weeks of that summer in Atlanta. I was finally able to feel the sense of relief that I had longed for during the school year, and things seemed to be moving in a positive direction. But when sophomore year rolled around, it seemed like freshman year had come back to haunt me. A new spiral had begun. I was at the lowest point of my life, with no clue of how to fix it. I felt trapped in a never-ending dark cycle. What I didn't know was that I would find an escape during one of the scariest times in modern history. When the pandemic came around, the world around me went into chaos. The unknown became the new normal, yet everyone was still searching for answers. But I decided to use quarantine to find an answer to my own question: What caused my spiral and how can I prevent myself from feeling horrible about myself again? It was hard to accept the answer at first. A mindset that I've had from the time I started school had caused the lowest point of my life. I've been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, especially when it comes to school. It took me years to realize that I had equated my self-worth with a grade on a piece of paper. I had been running on this mentality for so long that eventually the 100s were good enough anymore. I had reached about where I was simply existing and not living, causing me to have utter disgust for the person I had become. I was tired of the life I was living and decided to address the situation head on. Although it was hard, I had to change my relationship with my grades. School has always been something that I was praised for and I feared that detaching my identity from it would result in backlash. But I needed to find out who I was without the grades; the person I truly am. Although my journey with self acceptance is not over, it has definitely come a long way. I am more willing to accept my imperfections. My goal is to have a positive balance in my life by my freshman year of college. I've become more open about the challenges I face within and strive to better the way I view myself everyday.

Music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. The vision of the first time I touched an instrument plays vividly in my mind as if it took place yesterday. In kindergarten, I, along with some of my fellow classmates, was selected to participate in a new program at my school. We all sat in a circle and were introduced to the instructor. He began to speak to us, but I couldn't pay attention. There was something in the corner that caught my attention: a drum. Now I had seen drums before, but this one was different. There was an unseen force that connected me to it, and my kindergarten mind couldn't figure out what it was. In order to participate in the program, we needed to get our parents' permission. I remember running to my mom as she picked me up from school with feelings of pure excitement. Before she could finish asking me how my day went, I was begging her to let me participate in the drumming program. Upon receiving her permission, I began taking lessons after school. I learned that the drums were djembes, which originated in West Africa. Through my participation in the program, I gained a connection to a culture I had never known about. This struck a curiosity in me that continues to live within me to this day. Throughout the years of my involvement, music has opened my eyes to new things about the world, as well as myself. I've learned to use music to express myself in a positive manner. Whether you are the one that creates it, or you simply listen to it on occasion, music allows people to grasp the feelings and thought of others, as well as their own. Currently, one of my favorite songs is Kendrick Lamar's "Alright". In this piece, Lamar is able to embody his feelings toward the corruption that we as African Americans face in America, while also remaining hopeful for the future. He speaks on the discrimination and injustices that our community faces on daily basis in a manner that allows him to get his point across without allowing the oppressor to have power over him. After diving into all the negativity of the system, Lamar flips it around and reminds the listener that as long as they have faith, everything will be alright. This song is special to me because it reminds me to keep my head up no matter how hard of a punch life throws at me. As a teenager, trying to navigate this crazy world that we live in can become overwhelming. There have been numerous times where I have questioned whether all of the effort is worth it but remembering the greater purpose of my actions keeps me going. Songs like "Alright" have provided me with an outlet to express the feelings I have and reinforce the fact that I am not alone in my journey.

There has been a lot of controversy over the Black Lives Matter movement since it started in 2013. Many people have labeled it as a racist and Marxist group. As a result many African-Americans have shied away from associating themselves with the movement. However, in this past year, there has been a surge in the support for the movement, especially from the younger generation. As an artist, I try to depict topics that have a great impact on my life. As a young Black student, it can sometimes feel like you will never be good enough for the world. Sadly, I know many people that feel this way. Thus, I created the attached pieces to not only promote the idea that being Black is beautiful, but to motivate and inspire other young African-Americans to stand up and fight for what they believe in. In my piece with the Black Lives Matter fist, I hoped to bring more attention to the movement in my community. We recently had an issue where a young women and her child were being harassed by their neighbors for months. The police weren’t responding to the incidents and we had to hold protests in order to bring her the justice she deserved. With this piece I wanted to let people know that African-Americans are fighting for their lives everywhere. The movement isn’t just something we see on TV, it is happening in our very own communities. My piece of the Black woman is one of my favorites. My intention with this piece was very straightforward. I wanted to promote the idea that being Black, no matter how dark or light, is beautiful. Sadly, society has made many dark-skinned women feel as though they are lesser than their light-skinned counterpart. The effect that this ideology has had on the Black community, especially those in the younger generations is not only disgusting, but dangerous. These beliefs are being passed down to our children, and there is no way for us to truly fight for racial justice if we don’t include all Black skin tones. When creating this piece, I was inspired by a beautiful dark-skinned women that I saw in the background of someone’s YouTube video. I feel that dark-skinned women aren’t as represented in the media and I wanted to do my part to change that. My final piece is based on a quote that I saw in a store. The support for the Black Lives Matter movement has surged in response to the passing of George Floyd. Many people have come together to protest and bring light to the issues of police brutality and racial injustice. However, there are people who feel like their voices aren’t being heard. These people feel like they are waisting there time fighting, and they truly don’t believe that they can make a difference. I made this piece to show those who want to give up that they may feel defeated now, but we are only moving closer to liberation we dream of. We can’t give up now. If we do then the oppressors win. I made this piece with an all black background to represent the darkness that these injustices have surrounded us with. I chose white for the wording to represent the light that we’ll break through the darkness and move us forward to a day where we are all truly equal.