I came to the camera
after I lost the rest.

The room was quiet except for the rhythmic beep…beep…beep of the monitor beside my hospital bed. An IV tube pressed against my skin, with the taste of saline in my mouth. I stared at the ceiling, wondering if I had given everything I could to the world — unsure whether the next day would bring death or a return to the life I once knew.

During that period, multiple events stripped me of what I believed defined me. I had to medically retire from athletics — the core of my identity since childhood — and step back from leadership roles I had poured myself into. My nearly 4.0 GPA fell as I fought complications from surgery and struggled to attend classes in person without the option of remote learning.

Losing those identities forced me to look in the mirror and reconstruct who I was through the lens of intentionality and an immense appreciation for life. Even when I felt powerless and at the mercy of life, my desire to make an impact grew stronger. I learned how it feels to be vulnerable, afraid, and uncertain. I gained a priceless perspective that allowed me not only to be empathetic but to truly understand the role of a photographer and cinematographer: meeting people at their lowest and helping them find identity, hope, and purpose. Healing not only physical wounds, but the invisible scars — bringing critical thinking, adaptability, resilience, and empathy to every interaction.

I often reflect on experiences from before my injury that still guide me. Through the Student-Athlete Advisory Committee, we partnered with Special Olympics and watched how an effort to platform voices muffled by barriers can make hidden communities feel empowered. That experience deepened my commitment to building trust by learning cultural nuance and confronting the fears shaped by discrimination, past mistreatment, or misunderstanding.

Being African American, I have also seen how learned hopelessness can affect communities. This work offers the chance to meet someone at the moment they are building the foundation of their sense of self — and to have a positive, lasting influence on their trajectory. Guiding even a few toward confidence and opportunity can change not only lives, but the trajectory of families and communities.

When my own life draws to a close and I hear that familiar beep…beep…beep again, I hope to look back with the peace of knowing “I’ve fulfilled my purpose and helped other people find theirs.” I refuse to let those challenges define me; instead, I aim to make these obstacles the best thing that ever happened to me — using what were once barriers as a utensil to write my story. My accomplishments despite those setbacks will make my story worth listening to, and it would be an honor for you to be part of it.