From Fear to Freedom: A Story of Personal Liberation by Layton

From Fear to Freedom: A Story of Personal Liberation by Layton - January 2026 Scholarship Essay

“So no trains could move up. And no trains could move back. They were stuck where they were at that crack in the track!” I exclaimed in front of my classroom.

Sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, I imagined myself as a six-year-old school teacher. Turning its pages with delicacy, I passionately read my favorite book, A Crack in the Track by Wilbert Awdry. Through verbal intonation, I emphasized the quote to my students (emotionless stuffed animals), but I should have internalized the message myself. I would later realize that the “crack” reflected my own obstacle, just as it did for my beloved trains.

“I CAN’T GO!” I exclaimed.

I refused to put on my Taekwondo uniform, its unrelenting white fabric blinding my eyes. No one I know does martial arts. This is so embarrassing. Why is my mom making me go? For reasons I could not admit as a freshman in high school, I was highly concerned about the opinions of others, and this concern stuck me to the floor like sweat on my forehead after Taekwondo.
Eventually, I reluctantly moved my limbs to put on my required attire and walk out the door. Still, this chain of events repeated almost every Tuesday since the third grade, and my practice of Taekwondo remained my deepest secret. I already felt “different” as one of the few Black girls in my school community. I unnecessarily conformed by adjusting my interests and demeanor according to the spaces I entered. If my peers uncovered said secret, my young mind was convinced that their judgment would cause additional ostracism.

With the onset of the 2020 Coronavirus lockdown, I happily distanced myself from Taekwondo and the internal agony it evoked. However, as a high school student with ample time to reflect in the era of virtual school, I prioritized myself. Refusing to succumb to external opinions, I did not pressure myself to conform through a computer screen. I drew strength from my ancestors of African descent, the same individuals who carried themselves with pride and succeeded in a society that valued homogeneity. Similarly, once I embraced who I was, I finally felt free to live my truth. Building unfaltering self-confidence, I listened to my internal voice of encouragement, the strong voice that I had suppressed for so many years. While practicing Taekwondo forms in my room, a newfound appreciation for the practice replaced my resentment. As society returned to a new normal, I applied my confidence to the world around me, empowering others through scientific research, STEM competitions, volunteering, and Black Student Union engagements.

Now, I proudly retrieve my white uniform, permanently adorned with my name in Korean letters. I walk out my front door with determination, my steps filled with courage rather than contempt.

“I CAN!”

The infamous statement that ends every Taekwondo class reverberates off the walls and echoes in my mind. As I clean the facility after my Black Belt class, I remember the times I said I could not.

My unhealthy, paralyzing fear of individuality served as my own “crack.” If I had not done the mental work to allay my fear, I would have never advanced over the crack to achieve my full potential and strong sense of self. My authenticity will shine in any space I inhabit because I refuse to alter myself to please others. Taekwondo not only builds my physical and emotional strength but also defines my journey to independence from self-imposed societal pressures. While wearing my First-Degree Black Belt uniform, I celebrate the steps I took to mold the current version of myself, and I think my younger self would celebrate, too.