Ithaca College was supposed to be the love letter the little mixed girl never got when she was growing up, when she was too hard on herself, tired of hiding who she was, and desperately wanted to find her fit in a world that never seemed to truly have a place for her. And in some ways, that was the case, but not in the way I expected. I believed the MLK Scholarship program was a start. This was the first time I truly felt seen as someone worthy of membership in the BIPOC community. A person who learned to advocate for herself and others struggling to find their voice. And yet, something was missing. 

I’m actually here and am experiencing a college lifestyle for the very first time, everything feels surreal and overwhelming in the best way possible.