I believe in the beauty of representation. When I was a little girl, my mother would do my hairstyle for the day, the night before. I would sit in front of her on the floor as she would section my hair out into different parts. Our number one evening, we were watching the nightly news. I stared as the two anchors interacted with one another. Their porcelain skin jumping off reflecting onto my own. It was in this moment that I realized they did not look a lot like me. They did not have skin the color of toffee, or hair that rebelled against whatever product was being used on it. I remember another instance when I was in school, and a classmate of mine tugged lightly on the strand of my hair. Her hair was big and funny. That’s what she told me as she giggled. I stared at her. Her brunette mane was pulled into a ponytail. Sure we were different, but at this point it wasn’t something that I cared to acknowledge. I had come to term with our differences. Yet here I was being confronted with a statement that I didn’t have a response to. I didn’t think my hair was funny. Had she never seen hair like mine before? I saw hair like hers all the time. I saw it everywhere that I went. We live in a world where for black and brown children, being exposed to white beauty standards is unavoidable. Lucky enough for me, I came from a home that told me on a daily basis just how beautiful and important I was. I’m telling you all this story to tell you that representation is everything. Growing up in America shows you that representation is everything. If a child does not have the right representation, they can easily be swallowed up into the society that tells them there is no room for you here. This summer I noticed how much that was changing, one Mary’s Center at a time. Maria Gomez created Mary’s Center in 1988. She did it with the intention of making room for people, creating a safe space. Mary’s Center’s hires graduates from its teen programs and recruit people at community outreach events. They implement this so that the staff reflects the center’s participants. This reflection, this representation is what community outreach looks like. In a culture that perpetually belittles the accomplishments and gains of minorities, there are places like Mary’s Center who use representation to consistently lift up the surrounding community. There is fulfillment in being accepted. There is fulfillment in feeling happiness and joy in a place that’s supposed to be home. How do we expect children to reach their full potential when society hinders their growth and breaks down their pride? See what I’ve noticed is that pride and representation go hand in hand. Eight-year-old me didn’t cry and break down when a child was all too aware of our differences. I thought about it. Believe that one day she would see things from my perspective and then continue to follow on the footsteps of my mother who ingrained in me the importance of loving oneself. As I grew older, these instances occurred more and more, from middle school to high school than to college. But with each occurrence, my pride grew. The challenge is not every child is giving the love and support of family, and they may not have the support of the Mary’s Center of the Nation. Through my years, I’ve noticed that there is power and beauty and so much influence in being represented. This summer taught me that no matter what I end up doing, whether it’s working at a nonprofit or writing news stories for an organization, my personal mission will always be to be the voice of the underrepresented. The good news is, black and brown children are beginning to see people who reflect themselves. I mean, look at the door melange of Black Panther. What little black girl wouldn’t look at that and say, ooh. But that’s it. It’s just the beginning. I know that somewhere, there is still an eight-year-old who is being told that they are too different. My hope is that the teachers, the mentors, the parents, the Mary’s Centers of this Nation will all come together and give this new generation the same guidance that my mother provided me with. I plan, through my storytelling and through my journalism and through being a journalist, to change the narrative. And I challenge you all to do the same. Thank you. Thank you.