Once in 5th grade, one of my classmates caught me in the hallway and pointed to my assigned backpack cubby and asked "is that yours'?"- it caught me a little off guard because my name was clearly plastered above it. I took a second and finally responded "...yeah", he looked back at me with a funny look and said, "huh, so that's what your voice sounds like." and then he wandered off. I felt hot with embarrassment, this was my first year at that school after being homeschooled for the previous 2.5 years, and there was a growing rumor at the time that I was mute. I struggled to speak outside of home in general until my senior year of Highschool. Even then, I was only talkative with my closest friends - it wouldn't be until months after starting anxiety medication when I was 22 and lots of practice that I could say I was able to comfortably engage in small talk and communicate in an interactive way with my coworkers and customers. Growing up with that level of crippling social/communication skills stunted all of my relationships and made it harder to work in team environments. Now, it left me especially sensitive to others with very reserved demeanors. I know what it feels like to end up in situations where my desires and needs are not met or actively taken advantage of because I didn't know how to speak up for myself - so when I can, I try to use my experiences to help others who haven't found their own voice yet. Communication is a vital part of living - without properly making the most of it your quality of life is significantly limited. In the classroom, if a student is confused but doesn't feel safe for whatever reason to raise their question to the teacher or other classmates - the value that they get out of going to school is limited to what they can figure out on their own. At work, if an employee has questions or confusion around standards of procedure or rights, the safety of themselves and others are put at risk. Knowing the value of having professional and legal communications in writing is incredibly important, but for a person who hasn't found an assertive voice within themselves may allow the other party to convince them into giving up their legal rights and protections knowingly. Even in the personal life, the ability to be vulnerable and express yourself in a faithful representation of your inner thoughts and feelings is a requirement for building long lasting emotionally rewarding relationships. As someone familiar with these types of situations, I can ask the classmate if they're confused and give them a chance to speak, become familiar with my coworkers and ask the obvious thing to everyone (where are safety exits, what protections do we have, who do we talk to for..etc), and have open conversations when I can about situations when I have needed to be more assertive with those in power than I wanted to for my own protection. I still have a way to go in my own journey, but the more I share of it to others, the more likely that someone else struggling may realize that they too have the power to improve their communication - even if they just need a little help.

I've been born and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin - and I'm proud to call it home. But something I want to change is the culture of segregation and the level of disparity between minority majority areas of the county. Milwaukee city, the heart of Milwaukee county, is majority black at 38.5% and 22.8% of the total population lives at or below the poverty line. Only 41% homeowners are reported to live in their home, meaning it is a majority renter city, and 72% of families of color in the city are renters. Only 27.4% of residents aged 25 and older are reported to have a bachelors or higher. The average household income for the entire city is only about 54,000$ even though the average household size is at least 2 people. To paint a picture beyond the stats - if you're black and raised here - chances are you live in or near the poverty line and that alone is a significant barrier to higher education, improving quality of life, and simply trying to keep a roof over your head. I know this because I lived it, along with my family and friends who are also minorities. Because of this, I want to use my resources in the future to put more ownership and the stability and pride that comes with it into more of the families of color that already live here. I know that with my degree I will likely one day have the means to buy foreclosed properties or one of the many properties/land left in disrepair in Milwaukee city. My goal would be instead of allowing it to be bought for commercial investment purposes by those who aren't local to the community, I want to only have properties with 5-8 year rent to own agreements. Also single occupancy units, which used to be more frequently available and safe - are not common anymore even though the need is still high. It's a stretch dream - but I would love to be able to open at least one single occupancy unit housing building that will be known for being safe, clean, and affordable options for those getting back on their feet. This is especially important to me because my parents were renters, and after a particularly messy transfer period between their last landlord of 10+ years selling our place to a new owner that didn't want us there anymore - we were homeless without enough means to secure a new place in time. That was all during my senior year of Highschool. I struggled to stay focused, I had so much more on my plate than most of my classmates - finding my own way to school and back became even harder, I didn't know where or what I was going home to - sometimes it was a hotel or a friends house, until it changed again. I worked to pay for my bus pass into the school district my parents open enrolled me into, so I could have access to the schools with more resources. That single incident of losing our place to live, led to me living in unstable housing from my senior year on for about 3 years. I didn't start college until I felt just stable enough, even though I graduated with honors in the top ten percent of my class. The truth is my gpa couldn't pay the bills. I'm not a special case - there are many faced with the same hard decisions based largely on systematic issues outside of their control. So, one day I hope to provide leverage.

Autumn leaves and pumpkins please; apple trees and windy leaves, double spooks and caramel scenes, my coziest scarves, long sleeves with a cup of Apple Crisp Oatmilk Macchiato (extra syrup please). My love for the fall season runs deep along with all the classic flavors (cheers to you PSL) - but anything that can carry me back to memories of picking more apples that I can hold, biting into apple spice donuts and warming my hands with fresh cider, surrounded by my favorite people, holds an incredibly dear place in my heart. Besides the Halloween display at Joann's - I know autumn is truly here when this drink and its fabulous spicy gang are available once again. To me, it's just as much a part of fall as all the candles, corn mazes, spooky reruns, and that sound of wind passing through crispy leaves that just isn't quite like any other song of the wind. It may also just be the midwestern in me - the ultimate 'basic' folks. But I do want all the cheesy epithets on kitchen towels, mugs, shirts, and fuzzy socks - and I want my favorite Starbucks drink that I will absolutely wait 15 mins for and tip an extra 2 dollars on the already 7-dollar drink, and I will be happy. I will regret the caffeine but not the warmth it sunk into my fingertips - and if I'm up later than usual watching my favorite playthrough of Fatal Frame (A paranormal horror game) then I only have my seasonal Starbucks drink of choice to thank. I highly recommend building your own memories of homemade pies made with freshly picked apples on a late September afternoon - while a party of your less culinary-gifted friends play a loud game of Monopoly, charades, or some home-grown party game. I hope this is only after spending a sizable amount of time getting lost in a corn maze, picking pumpkins, and riding the hay wagon back only once your hands have gotten just a little red from the cold so you appreciate the warmth of indoors even more. Maybe then you'll understand (assuming that you haven't already - apologies) the satisfaction that comes from the simple but still privileged pleasures of celebrating a season and its natural beauty in such relative moments of peace. Maybe then you will also be transported to the same place I am when you take your first sip of an Apple Crisp Oatmilk Latte (extra syrup, please).

Adversity hasn't been a visitor in my life, as much as it's been a house I've learned to live in. I was born into poverty to young parents with undiagnosed mental illnesses. As a child, I was passed around to family and friends who watched me when my parents didn't have a safe place for me to stay. My poverty tasted like powdered milk and malt-o-meals twice a day -- I got my first bed and mattress when I was 8 years old. I was my mom's helper in finding the cheapest WIC-approved prices and coupons at the grocery store. Eventually, I would see drugs consume a family member, then experience homelessness and abandonment. But honestly, I didn't know my experience was in the minority until much later in life. If overcoming is surviving, then I overcame the waves of adversity with the common generational coping response of my family - compartmentalizing and leaving hurt feelings unaddressed. But, finally breaking the cycle and transforming myself took lots of work, therapy, learning healthy communication, reworking thinking patterns, and medication. I didn't get there on my own either; without a collection of people and their interactions helping me, I would have never made it to this point. Even now, almost every day there is someone who is a driving force in keeping me motivated to continue. Because of this, I know just how unbelievably valuable having a support network is in life, especially for those who come from underprivileged backgrounds. That is would like to support community programs more in the future. Programs for low-income or underrepresented youth are especially important to me. Often they are understaffed with minimal resources, and even though many kids may have the ability/talent to thrive in great educational programs/camps - sponsorships and scholarships are limited so they become highly competitive to the point where only a select few are considered. I've seen firsthand how disheartening this is for these kids - they work twice as hard only to have a door closed on them because of financial need, lack of transportation, or support. I was that kid. I was accepted to two different competitive music camps but one I could not attend because I did not have transportation and the other, while I received a large scholarship, I still could not pay the remaining amount due to attend. Now as a young adult, I also see other areas that need to be improved in supporting students who have been abandoned by their parents to access government aid. According to FAFSA, if a young person does not have a determination from a court, school liaison, or shelter of the status of homelessness - they are still required to include all of the parent's personal and financial information to have a complete application. Otherwise, the prospective college financial aid office must determine the status of homelessness and lack of parental involvement themselves - which I've learned schools don't have a very clear procedure for. This is exactly my situation, I was kicked out of my parent's care while they were homeless, and at that time we were couch surfing between their friends. At no point did we go to a shelter, or get a court determination, and my parents are prideful so it was never reported to my high school while I attended. My situation is not unique--it's disturbing to think about how many other people must have gone through this exact situation and gave up because of the lack of resources. I want to advocate streamlining this verification process so there's one less barrier to education.

15 years from now, I see myself working in an environment where I'm challenged with investigative and analytical creative work. Right now, that position has a culinary light in my mind--where I will look for new methods to create delicious foods and flavors. That is why I'm currently pursuing an associate in food science technology. This career path is something that has evolved in my mind over the last 4-5 years, but I've always been fascinated by food and the science and art behind it. As a child, I would wait for the last scene of Bob the Builder to finish on PBS, so I could watch the reruns of America's Test Kitchen, Simply Ming, and Cook's Country. I loved learning about all these foods and flavors that I never knew living off government-provided food boxes. I learned to cook early, begging my parents to let me bake my first box cake on my own as soon as I could reach the top of the counter. I read all of my grandma's cookbooks over and over - earmarking the ones I would make as soon as I could afford the ingredients and supplies. Being so poor forced me and my family to cook often anyway, as it was often cheaper than eating out. I particularly fell in love with baking and pastries, and it could fill bellies cheaply so my parents kept the kitchen stocked with flour and sugar. I was very limited in what I could make because we simply did not have the money for special ingredients or tools. That did not stop me though from learning as many cheap and effective substitutions as I could. So, I was more excited than most teenagers to begin working in food service with my first job - and I never had any intention of working in a non-creative capacity. Though I wouldn't have a role in preparing food until years later - I took every opportunity to learn what I could. At that point, I wanted to go to school for pastry arts and eventually become a pastry chef. Four years after my first job running breadsticks at Fazoli's - I finally got a position where I would focus solely on mixing, baking and decorating various cookies. I loved it - but I didn't have any say in the creative process and I knew I never would there. So, a year later I would take a second position at a small kitchen - where I would be allowed to develop recipes for various cookies and sweets. Unfortunately, I found that while I have many culinary ideas and techniques now, I don't know how the end product will hold once it leaves the kitchen. This is where food science, came into the picture for me. Food science is the study of the chemical makeup and reactions of food - and that is what I realized was lacking the most in my study of culinary arts. I want to learn how to keep a chewy bite in a cookie after it travels for hours in different temperatures to its intended home. I want to learn how to make a brownie taste just like the first bite of a chocolate-covered orange slice. I realized that just making food wasn't the only enjoyable thing for me, but successfully overcoming the challenge of presenting good food in undesirable circumstances--whether it be from a lack of a certain ingredient or environmental factors like tools--was a large part of why I love what I do as well.

I am 40 years old pulling fresh cinnamon rolls out of the oven while young eyes watch the pan with awe and excitement; I am reminded of the time I watched my mother use twine to carefully twist cinnamon rolls out of an uncooked log as I stood on a chair with uneven legs to get a better look at the magic dough; I reminisce at my last 20 years, gone so quicker than the first; my life is modest, but I am happy with the knowledge I acquired and proud to pass it down to younger generations.

For me, my greatest achievement was my 22nd birthday. My first real celebrated birthday, and the first birthday I was excited for instead of simply surprised I made it this long. I spent the day with my best friend, who stayed up so late making the cake the night before, she had only gotten two hours of sleep. I would ask her out on a date a week later - that would also be the first time I asked anyone out. That day would also be the last day of my final two weeks at a job where, while it helped pay my bills, would not be possible to stay at if I wanted to go to school at the same time. It was a risk I knew I had to take because I was finally ready to go to college. My whole life I've never celebrated my birthday for religious reasons - those same reasons also convinced me that I would never be in a relationship. But, after being kicked out of my parent's care at 19 - my entire system of beliefs and what little confidence I had crumbled. I was an honor student in high school, I was in orchestra after orchestra, treasurer in NHS, volunteered in kids orchestra groups and my church, and still found time to work part-time. At the time I thought I was doing the bare minimum. My parents would not support me through most of school - I had to pay for my own transportation to school and anywhere else including rehearsals, and they wouldn't come to see any award ceremony/concert unless I was number one. On graduation day, the top ten students sit on the stage at my high school - my mom was upset that if I had only done better in gym class I would've made it on the stage and made it easier for them to see me. I was 18th in my class. When I was kicked out, I was made to feel like it was my fault - that if I had only been 'better', I wouldn't be in this situation. A friend's family took me for a while, and my parents then berated me for 'taking advantage' of their kindness instead of figuring it out immediately on my own. I started to believe that I was a problem, worse than useless, and a headache. My poor mental health spiraled worse, I even felt like I was disappointing all my teachers from high school for turning into a 'failure'. I tried to cling to my Christian beliefs, but I took a step back from some of my volunteering hours with my church to focus on my health and get on my feet. Leaders in my church felt I should've been doing more though as a young single person - and constantly checked in to see if I was making any progress towards contributing higher ministry hours as it was a 'measure of my faith'. It was one more thing I wasn't 'enough' at. I let myself completely focus on therapy and supporting myself for the next 3 years and it took the better part of that time to find confidence, self-love, pride, and an appreciation for life again. I now know that I was an amazing kid - someone many people would be proud to call their own. I was and still am talented and persistent, but more than that I know my worth is not found solely in my accomplishments. I've learned that finding joy in the mundane is sometimes worth far more than any esteemed award. I've learned that I actually wouldn't mind building a family one day if it means I have a wife. And I've learned I have time to figure things out if I don't get it right the first time. So now, I'm enrolled in a 2-year food science program that I hope to transfer into a 5-year program to get a master's in food science. I want to continue to make progress coming into myself and learning what I want out of life, and showing myself what I can do. I want to be able to support myself with a job I enjoy and bring joy to the people that are important to me. I hope I can also be an inspiration for others who've had odds stacked against them and lend a hand.