Finding My Voice by Sarah

Finding My Voice by Sarah - January 2025 Scholarship Essay

Growing up as a first-generation Cameroonian American, I have always dealt with the space between two cultures: my Cameroonian family at home, and my modern American life outside. In school, I always found myself being one of very few African students. I often felt isolated and different, to the point I would even lie about where I was from. I didn’t grow up understanding popular American movies or music or truly understand many American household traditions. People were shocked when I told them I didn’t know who the Beetles were or that I’ve never watched Home Alone. Although I’ve always identified as American and grew up here all my life, I was constantly made to feel different by my peers. In elementary school, I was told my food stank at lunch; in middle school, I was ridiculed for my hair growing up and not down; in high school, I was questioned for my intelligence; that I only get good grades because of the stereotype. These small microaggressions didn’t seem so micro to me and made me look down upon myself and my heritage. I begged my mom to let me bring Lunchables to school instead of the typical Cameroonian food she would pack me, I straightened my hair and grew to start hating it in its natural state, and I even dumbed myself on purpose to be “cool” like everyone else.

One day, during my sophomore year of high school, I went to the library before class to return some of my books. While checking out, our librarian Mrs. Knight – who recognized me by my frequent visits – introduced me to Black Student Union: “How come I never see you at BSU, Sarah? You should come to the meeting after school today.” “Uh… I don’t know,” I quickly responded, trying to end the conversation. “You have a voice people need to hear, even if you don’t think so. Trust me, it’ll be fun.” I was hesitant at first: I didn’t have many Black friends, and my years of trying my best to blend in backfired by me now being seen as “white-washed.” “Sure, I’ll try” I said, still unsure. I thought about it the whole rest of the day. My favorite part of every school day was finally going back home. Did I really want to waste time in a room where I felt so different? At the end of the day, however, I found myself slowly walking back into the library for the BSU meeting, being met by a huge smile from Mrs. Knight: “Sarah! I’m so glad you came. Everyone say hello to our newest member!” This type of introduction would typically scare me away, forcing me to feel embarrassed and exposed, but instead I was greeted with a warm collection of voices: “Hi Sarah!”

At the meetings we would hold meaningful discussions which helped create a more understanding and welcoming environment for all students. We held potlucks with all sorts of foods from all over the Black diaspora which sometimes brought me back to the moments I would cook with my mother. I even met other Africans (and Cameroonians!) that were just like me. Mrs. Knight’s push motivated me to embrace my identity and share a part of myself with others. I became more and more involved in Black Student Union and eventually worked my way up to becoming Vice President my senior year. My experience with BSU and the guidance from Mrs. Knight taught me that sometimes, all it takes is one person to see something in you that you might not see in yourself. The support from my teacher and the club made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere, like a family away from home. Joining BSU was a turning point for me that I had never expected. I began to feel accepted in a place I associated with judgement. Stepping into a space of uncertainty allowed me to grow, realizing that we all have the potential to make a difference simply by offering others the chance to find their own voice. As I prepare to go off to college, I hope to inspire others to not be ashamed of who they are and use the voice that was meant to be heard, just like Mrs. Knight did for me.