People laughing and pointing at me as my eyes start to tear up on the playground is something that will live with me forever. I grew up in a wealthier community where most of my peers had more than me growing up, and I became familiar with judgement at a young age. Whether it was the outright bullying of nicknames like Bugs Bunny and Chompers because my family could not afford braces when I was younger or the more subtle exclusion as I got older, the dual realities that people judge what they do not understand and that cruelty is often disguised as humor became a part of my daily life. 

Flash forward to high school, which I had always looked forward to with the promise of my best years yet, and I’m not even comfortable enough to sit at a table with my peers. When the bell rings and it’s time to go to the lunchroom, the loud noise begins to hit me first. Then the sounds of laughter, voices, and people rushing to their next class. My chest begins to feel weird: I can’t help but think they’re laughing at me, at my outfit, maybe my face, maybe even my body. I look around the cafeteria to see if anyone I know is sitting at a table, but something in me feels empty when I realize I have no friends to sit with. When I finally find an open spot, the girls I’ve always tried to fit in with dip their conversations just long enough to remind me I don’t belong. I glance up and catch the side-eyes they send to each other, the half-hidden smirks, and this despite all these years of my best efforts to fit in. Throughout my experience in school, I‘d learned a set of unspoken rules: don’t talk too much or people will call you annoying, don’t show too much personality or people will call you weird, and don’t finish your plate of food or you’ll be labeled a “big back.”

The last part has been especially hard. What people don’t know about me is that it’s rare I even have food to eat at home. That’s why, when I get to school, I eat more, because sometimes it feels like my only chance. Some mornings I wake up and tell myself I won’t eat that day, but then the smell of food at school hits me, and I realize how impossible it is to ignore hunger. That’s the part no one sees. I’m judged for eating too much, when most of the time, I’m just grateful to have food in front of me.

Even though sometimes I feel like making myself small around my peers, becoming increasingly aware of how “other” I feel has given me a different kind of strength: the strength to keep showing up. I walk into school every day with a smile, even if I’m breaking inside.

Part of that smile comes from the fact that I have discovered my passion and have a clear path forward. Since a young age, I’ve always recorded videos of myself to express what I like and how I feel, but over time, it became more than that. Just for fun, I began interviewing people throughout the school day, asking them random silly questions. After school, I would go to work and come home excited to edit a new video to post. 

Slowly, people began to notice me, and I mean really notice me, for the first time. People began to see me as a content creator to look forward to at the end of the school day, as someone who could make them laugh and bring a little joy. Unexpectedly, one of my videos blew up out of nowhere, boosting my audience to all around the world. People from different backgrounds, countries, and schools genuinely liked the art that I was creating. 

That was the moment I realized that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. I realized that I had made something meaningful through journalism, photography, and editing: especially editing. Editing allows me to show others my personality without even having to talk because it lets me take all of these different pieces and blend them to create something bigger than myself. I joined the journalism staff at my school, and my two years on staff helped me connect with people I would have been too scared to talk to before and expand my talents even further. Photography was something I have become interested in because of journalism as well. Being able to capture moments, whether it’s at football games, school events, or even outside of school, has made me realize the importance of not caring what others think. A lot of times, people don’t even know that their picture is being taken, they’re just being their authentic selves, and that moment turns out to be beautiful. I want the photograph of my life to be more like that: candid, not posed, the real me, not the me that I’m trying to be for others. 

With just a few short months until graduation, I’m finally looking forward to something school-related: the opportunity to continue nurturing my passions at Oakland University, where I will study journalism, media studies, and digital media production as a member of their honors college.  I know that Oakland is a place where I can grow both as a writer and a creator, taking my skills in editing, interviewing, and storytelling to the next level. I come from a family where no one has ever gone to college. Going to a university isn’t just an accomplishment for me, it is a milestone for my whole family that will change the rest of my life and empower me to spend it elevating the stories and voices of others.