College Visions College Essays, 2023-2024

OUTSTANDING STUDENTESSAYS

WRITTEN BY:

COLLEGE ACCESS PROGRAM SCHOLARS 2023 - 2024

Congratulations to the College Access Program (CAP) Class of 2024!

To Timothy, Aminata, Dayana, Judith, Olivia, Jayeola, Jaylin, Nitzalis, Felipe, Oluwakemi, and all the high school Scholars reaching for new heights--we are very proud of have far you ’ ve come and can’t wait to see where your journey takes you!

College Visions

Enrollment, Persistence, & Graduation

Student Essays Timothy Yean

Aminata Gueye

Dayana Read

Judith Coj

Olivia D’Ambra

Jayeola Ilori

Jaylin Cotto

Nitzalis Cabrero

Felipe Medina-Jal

Oluwakemi Amidu

Timothy Yean, Cranston High School East

CollegeDecision:RhodeIslandCollege

An Article About Yean’s Rise to Broadcasting

Let’s flashback to the start of this young man ’ s career Three and a half years ago, Tim Yean was an absolute nobody heading into a new school in a new district. He became a sports fan in the seventh grade, but being an athlete was out of the picture already, too late. But what the kid had was a dream, a dream to be somehow involved in sports, and it looked like he found his path. In an Algebra homework assignment, he detailed a story through the voice of the commentator following along a tortoiseand-hare story. The teacher loved it and thus sparked the beginning of an unexpected path.

While Yean had the vision, a global pandemic made it impossible to tread forth on his path during his freshman year or so he thought. After reading an email about a sports media club in Cranston East, Tim emailed Ken Simone, his greatest influence, in a huge step towards the endzone in the second big play of his career. Yean was immediately thrust into the lens of a broadcaster, learning from the leader of this sports media club, Mo Holtzman Holtzman’s calmness and clear voice outshone the “uhhs” of the rook. The experience showed when Yean was slammed with a “simple” question during his first basketball broadcast: “How has this press defense worked so far for Cranston East?” A simple read for Holtzman felt like dissecting an NFL defense for Yean, and he knew the long, winding path to the endzone of success had multiple roadblocks if this was the path he decided to take With plenty of free time due to the pandemic, he studied and watched for hours how the best announced for their games; their tones, and how they processed every single movement in detail, like a quarterback studying film for hours, looking through each play to find strengths, or an artist carefully painting a masterpiece

one stroke at a time. Throughout basketball season, Yean improved every single game, big or small. Then sophomore year came New people and terms, all under the dense pressure of Friday Night Lights. The Tim Yean show was in full swing at that point, from morning announcements to the press box of Cranston Stadium Throughout football and basketball season, it seemed to Yean he had improved tremendously, speaking clearly and fluently, even the chance to announce his first-ever playoff game. But as winter thawed into spring, volleyball was in need of not a play-by-play announcer, but a public address announcer, someone to actually announce in person. It was as if Yean was dropped off into a new country, with absolutely no knowledge of the culture and language, never having even known the existence of this country beforehand Soon, he fell in love with volleyball, the spikes, blocks, and dives. It was to the point where he had even decided to support them in their semifinal match away in North Kingstown, RI Yean found a new passion and continued finding interest in other sports.

So where is Tim Yean now? Getting paid to broadcast everything, from softball to wrestling and even field hockey He’s done public address announcing for state playoff games, something that was a rare opportunity for any high school student in the state, let alone one that started with absolutely no one knowing him from the start. Now he’s known in the entire school, to the point where his community service and dedication led him to getting nominated for the RI Civic Leadership Award At this moment right now, he’s typing away on a keyboard, writing this very college essay, for a chance that any college reads this essay and finds something in him through this essay to believe he’s a great fit, looking to help further his dream of sports broadcasting. He’s already reached the end zone once, and now he wants to run up the score.

Aminata Gueye, Classical High School

Finding Me

Aminata Mbengue was known for her kindness and compassion in her hometown of Grand Thiés, Senegal, where everybody knew everybody. I only know this from a second-hand point of view, however; she died in December 2003, three years before I was born. When I was born, I was given her name, Aminata. My father calls me Yaay Ami, or Yaay Booy, which means Mother Ami and Mother Dear. Aminata Mbengue wasn’t a random woman who lived in the same area my parents grew up in She was my father’s mother, my maternal grandmother.

While my family calls me Yaay Ami, most people just call me Ami, and in some cases, Aminata. My favorite between the three is Ami. I think it fits me best. Although she is my namesake, I am not, was not, and never will be my father’s mother. Yaay Ami feels nice, I suppose, but it only serves to remind me of my father’s disappointment in the fact that I am not like his mother. Aminata feels too official, the syllables clunky in the mouths of those who refer to me as such

Aminata is a mask I have put over myself because I have no other choice. Aminata is chained to a religion I don’t believe in, people I don’t know and don’t trust, and expectations upon expectations that I did not ask for. Aminata represents suppressed emotions, a lack of self-autonomy, the perfect daughter that doesn’t exist Aminata represents an endless cycle of home, school, sleep, and repeat Aminata represents not hanging out with friends, constant stress hanging over me like a personal rain cloud I can’t shake. Aminata represents getting a 99 on a test and berating myself over that missed 1 point

Aminata will be a lawyer, or engineer, or doctor who hates the job she forced herself to take on to please someone else. Aminata is a people pleaser, afraid of doing the wrong thing, even if the “right” thing feels wrong. Aminata is an idea that never came to fruition. Aminata represents a too-small cage, metal bars cutting into my being

But Ami? Ami is different. Ami represents everything Aminata can’t. Ami represents music, cats, and “ men ’ s ” clothes. Ami represents freedom, hanging out with friends, dancing in the rain, running through a meadow, belting the lyrics to a song as loud as I can, dancing like nobody’s watching. Ami has no limits, no one to tell me no Ami means success Ami means mistakes, but also learning from those mistakes Ami means loving myself as I am and not letting my flaws define me. Ami means laughter, bold and loud and unapologetic in its "lack of femininity". Ami will be a singer, or a dancer, or an artist who feels bold and free in their profession, knowing they bring joy to other people’s lives by doing something they love. Ami means loving as I do and not hiding it Ami means existing as I do and not hiding it Ami is my true form, loud and proud, unafraid and bold, happy and free

Ami…is me.

““Amimeanslaughter,boldand Amimeanslaughter,boldand lloudandunapologetic...” oudandunapologetic...”

Dayana Read, Classical High School CollegeDecision:SmithCollege

A New Legacy

19th-century European composers would be astonished to hear me play their music. They would likely be surprised by their long-lasting legacy and to find me, a Dominican woman, performing it The early makers of violins would never have pictured my hands making music with their crafts. The last thing the architects of old concert halls could have imagined is someone like me sitting first-chair on their stage. It’s hard to imagine my ancestors being the ones playing stringed instruments, writing sonatas, or fixing broken fine tuners. The Eurocentric narrative of classical music has erased marginalized bodies from history Nigerian writer and advocate Chimamanda Adichie spoke about, “the danger of the single story.” My story is the counter story to traditional classical music.

Classical music’s history is entrenched with elitism, classism, and racism. Throughout history, black and brown people have been prohibited from playing in orchestras, purchasing stringed instruments, and listening to classical performances Still today, classical music is isolated from the working class through formal dress codes, pricey reservations, and arcane rituals. In these ways, quality instruments, music lessons, and music concerts are kept from people of color as if they are lower-class citizens In order to break away from its oppressive history, classical music education and performance needs to be more easily accessible to marginalized communities That way, a myriad of perspectives can be permeated through the art of music making Luckily, I have had the privilege to join organizations that reflect my priorities, like Community MusicWorks. Here, I’ve found the tools to spend my life playing music in my neighborhood, mentoring younger musicians, and leading group discussions on social change.

I believe that music making doesn’t require a nice stage, an expensive instrument, or light skin color; it simply needs an audience In my personal story, classical music is performing in a local park next to a Del's Lemonade truck after turning a bench into a makeshift music stand. Classical music is my chamber group seeking refuge from the stormy weather under a farmer’s greenhouse, while the rain muffles every piece In my experience, classical music is vulnerable, humble, and dirty. Imagine sitting on the wooden support beam of a run-down cabin, watching barefoot musicians finish their last movement before the sun goes down. I’ve seen classical music played in muddy, tickinfested camp practice cabins. Being a classical musician is to be a community member: For me, this has looked like performing at the late-night Dominican parties, jumping into a last minute offscript middle school talent show, and subbing-in for a quartet group ' s sick violist. When I think of classical music, I remember serenading my father on his 50th birthday, the music barely audible through the cheers and applause. I remember quinceñeras and Latin music classes. I’ve transformed everyday environments into performance halls: flea markets, funerals, festivals, churches, charity events, and Chimi trucks These places have all welcomed classical music.

Opportunities like free public concerts and music lessons are essential to demolishing barriers like income inequity, education disparities, and discrimination roadblocks that drive classical music into exclusivity Playing free, accessible classical music for my community is a way that I can help demolish these restrictions. I’m thankful to live at a time where I have this opportunity, regardless of my race, gender, or socioeconomic status Playing, learning, and teaching music within my community has helped me realize there are many different systems of oppression and power. I have the tools to create meaningful and impactful change, whether that be in a concert hall, classroom, or local park My plan is to apply these tools nationally and globally, into every environment or community I inhabit, in classical music and other genres. Playing music in my community is how I’ve learned to break generational racism and classism.

Judith Coj, 360 High School CollegeDecision:RogerWilliamsUniversity

She Believed

Coming home after school is a familiar feeling I lived in the same apartment for 15 years. I knew each creak in the floorboards, which doors made sounds, and could hear the faucet when turned on Our apartment was full of sounds It was a soundtrack for my experiences growing up, although I did not always pay attention to the value of them when I was younger.

One day, I was talking with my mom, and I started to notice I had to speak up since she was having trouble hearing me. My father started to notice this too as he had to repeat things he said to mom We all thought it was just an ear infection My mom would say, “ no es nada ya mañana voy a estar bien”. She kept saying that it was nothing and it would be fine, but it did not go away. This went on for months and no matter the doctor, the result was the same; they thought it was an ear infection

One morning, I woke up for school and I saw my mom crying in the living room I asked her what happened, but my words disappeared before her She looked at me, with her eyes enveloped by tears, and said “YA NO ESCUCHO.” I understood what she told me, she said she could not hear. I could speak, silence fell from me I was eleven and I could not conceive of what was happening. I sat next to her quietly and began to cry. My mother consoled me without words exchanged.

The days became a kaleidoscope of doctor’s visits and school I became quiet and could not focus. I tried to be strong but one of my teachers noticed I was not myself. One day, Ms. Jester asked me if I was okay I could not hold it in anymore and started crying. I shared what happened and Ms. Jester checked in with

me each day. At the end of the year, she told me she was going to mail me something. Days passed and I received a keychain from her that says, “She believed she could, so she did ” This reminds me of her every time I read it. I am thankful for her and learned that to keep going I had to believe in myself.

As time passed by, my mom was finally able to get cochlear implant surgery. Every doctor’s visit became about how each number, down to the decimal, would determine how much she would be able to hear I remember the day she got home; she had her head wrapped up and was lying down. I went up to her all excited because she would be able to hear me, but it would take time for her to get implants Her strength inspires me My mother supported me in silence, enduring a scary experience and would not let me give in to doubts.

My reason for going to college is to make a future that I can share with my family. I want my parents to be proud of who I have become. I want to pursue a degree in finance because I have always found numbers interesting I know that numbers shift the scope of the world and I know that numbers determined so much to help my mother hear again, even if it wasn’t perfect. I do not want to take for granted the little words that matter most, the sound of my mother’s voice and her reaction when she hears me say thank you for believing in me when she could have just remained silent. She had every excuse to quit but watching her go through this difficult time taught me that Ms Jester’s keychain was true My mother believed she could, and so do I

““thankyouforbelievinginme...” thankyouforbelievinginme...”

Olivia D’Ambra, Trinity Academy for the Performing Arts

CollegeDecision:StanfordUniversity Lights-Up

Exposition

For most of my childhood, my family has experienced frequent homelessness Educationally, this meant that I experienced not onebut several - failing school districts throughout my state Despite the challenges we faced, my mother consistently emphasized the importance of education, and I had a natural drive to learn at a high level. I landed at a performing arts charter school not because of any particular talent or interest in the arts, but because it was the best free option to escape the Providence Public Schools. That decision influenced my trajectory: I grew from a timid 7th grader to a leader in the theater department. It is in this context, thriving in a creative community, that I share the following autobiographical screenplay.

Lights-Up, Sound-Cue 1

Standing in the left wing, sweating in my nurse costume, I await my entrance line. I feel my teeth start to chatter and my shoulders shake. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself, “this is not the time - you know your lines, you can trust your team, you are more than prepared ” Managing to win against the anxiety, I look up and see my friend standing in the right wing We smile at each other and she raises a hand to curl her fingers into half of a heart I make the other half with my fingers and close one eye to line up our hands from afar, forming one whole heart I see her chest rise and fall, then watch her step on the stage

Light-Cue D, Sound-Cue 3

“Everyday was the same as before,” I push out to the back of the house, ensuring not to drop a word, embodying every emotion my character feels Right now, theater shows and rehearsals are the

dominant part of my daily life. As someone who could hardly say “here!” during attendance a couple years ago, this is a big deal. My character collapses, and we hear the next sound cue go off: a heart beat followed by a flatline. Surrounded by my castmates while playing dead, I force back a smile, the transition lights come on, and we exit the stage.

Light-Cue H, Sound-Cue 7

In a quick change, my cheeks hurt from grinning while the crew is putting ghost makeup on my face My heart flutters as I giggle and one of them tells me to close my lips I’ve never considered continuing this surprising passion for theater after high school, but the thought of not waking up every morning with a script next to my bed scares me

Light-Cue K, Sound-Cue 10

“What are you going to do with that?” my scene partner asks with urgency as my character takes long, slow strides towards him I stare into his eyes, my face projecting anger: a mask on the exuberance bubbling in my core While I make my way to center, I reminisce on the past thirty minutes. Every light, sound cue, and line feeds my soul.

While becoming an engineer and astronaut is my life's dream, I realize that I may continue with passions I’ve picked up along the way. This scares me, because I have always had my entire life planned out - at least I thought I did. I didn’t account for the impact of everything I would experience in the process. Learning how to thrive as a performer at TAPA gave me qualities to tackle the challenges I face as a first-generation college applicant: courage, self-advocacy, leadership, and perseverance. So when Olivia today, Olivia the Actress, becomes Olivia the Astronaut, I hope she still has that thespian in her, and her best friends are still her world I hope she still strives for her aspirations, while staying open to opportunities for new growth, yet unknown

Olivia the Actress stays in character as the final spotlight hits her face and the crowd applauds

Lights Out

Jayeola Ilori, E-Cubed Academy

CollegeDecision:RhodeIslandCollege

Attitude & Effort

“Does not come to class prepared and does not prepare work well or on time ”

Ding! My brain rang as I checked my grades The letter F stood out on the page like a scarlet letter I wasn’t home yet, and I could already hear my Nigerian mother yelling at me in Yoruba. My stomach started to turn as the assumption of me not taking school seriously consumed my mind. This was the first time I ever got a bad grade. I was always a good student…or so I thought. Although I was afraid of what might happen when I got home, I didn’t expect to learn that my attitude was just as important as my effort.

11th grade at E-Cubed didn't start so great. My science teacher quit 2 weeks after the start of the year. That was when my problem started – a new teacher took over “You’re going to have Mr X ? He's very strict and difficult, ” was what people said when I was in 10th grade This made me afraid and nervous to take a course with him My perception was tainted by the words of my peers, which made me give up on the class from the beginning One evening, during a daily talk with my dad, I shared with him my strong disfavor for my new science teacher He advised me to give the teacher a chance or I wouldn’t put in any effort during class He knows me so well

Unfortunately, I didn’t listen. When my first progress report arrived, I felt the need to over explain myself to my parents. Everyone is expecting something from me – my mom, dad, my siblings – and receiving a poor grade was no way to reach those expectations. To my surprise, my dad did not overreact; instead, he insisted that I ask my teacher for an explanation of his grading style. The teacher wrote a letter to my dad explaining the grading system and commented on my inability to come to class prepared and submit quality work My dad felt that I should apologize, but I was

unapologetic. However, I knew I couldn’t let my emotions affect my academics.

“Commendable effort, takes pride in producing quality work and excellent study habits.”

It wasn't until I spoke with other students who took a class with him and enjoyed it, when I took a step back. Through this reflection, I finally realized that I was the problem and, because other students warned me of his strictness, I wasn't open to allowing him to prove himself before I judged him Although I saw my F as a failure, it was a learning moment While there is value in acknowledging others' experiences, I have to seek out my own to form composed opinions Though sometimes experiences may come with risks, such as taking a course with a teacher who doesn’t have the best reputation, life cannot be lived through others’ eyes or without learning from mistakes. I began putting effort into his class and soon realized that the teacher was not exactly how people described him – he wants what's best for his students, but does so with firmness. He wouldn’t let students have their As easily, we had to earn them. When I wrapped my head around this teaching method, I started to enjoy his class and accepted him for who he was and not who others made him out to be.

As I garnered this understanding and appreciation, my grades improved; so much so that I received an award in the spring of 11th grade during “Award Night” for academically excelling in science Going forward, especially as I navigate collegiate academic rigor and social life, I plan to apply the lessons I learned from my junior year at E-Cubed I hope to remain open minded and only judge others for who they are and not based on what others tell me

Jaylin Cotto, Cranston High School East

CollegeDecision:RhodeIslandCollege

Lost

At what point should you stop searching? It was March 26th, 2022 when I realized I lost any and all chance at telling my mother that I forgave her. I lost any and all chance of even feeling that one love we all yearned for I remember this day like it was yesterday. I mean, how could I forget? Who does?

I wish I could say I loved my mom, I mean I do, but with what terms? That sounds bad enough to say, but our situation isn't your typical mother and daughter relationship. I felt more anger than I did love. I remember telling people I didn't love my mom and that she didn’t love me I was young Sidenote: your words have power by the way.

To forgive: “stop feeling angry or resentful toward (someone) for an offense, flaw, or mistake” A Mistake? Who am I to say I have the right to “forgive” someone for a mistake? After all, who am I to pass judgment on someone ' s actions? But after a while, I realized that forgiveness is not about asserting superiority or judgment Forgiveness, in its essence, is a profound, personal journey.

I am now at a point in my life where I have to adopt a new mindset and truly forgive myself, and there's a lot that comes with it. In this process, I'm acknowledging that people make mistakes, just as I do We're all flawed and imperfect, and it's a part of our shared broken human experience

On the morning of the 26th, I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my stomach Now this was a normal occurrence for me I was sitting in my living room, lost in a book, when my phone rang.

I picked it up, and on the other end was a voice I hadn't heard in years, a distant relative, whose voice was filled with grief. With a trembling voice, they informed me that my mother had passed away unexpectedly. The words hung heavy in the air, sinking deep into my heart. It was a moment I had both feared and anticipated, a moment that brought a complex surge of emotions In that moment, I was flooded with memories, memories of the woman who had given me a life, who had shaped my existence in ways both painful and beautiful. Despite our history, her passing marked the end of an era, the closing of a chapter in the book of my life.

There was sadness for the lost opportunities, for the moments that could never be reclaimed However, there was relief, too; relief that she was finally free from the burdens that had weighed her down; relief that our shared journey of healing and forgiveness had reached a point of closure, in the most unexpected way. In the days that followed, I navigated the process of grieving, allowing myself to feel the full effect of emotions that her death had brought to me I reminisced about the little moments of connection we had shared, the laughter, and even the tears. I know the complexity of our relationship, the wounds that had scarred us both, and the love that had persisted beneath the surface despite the challenges

As I stood by her graveside, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the cemetery, I gave my silent gratitude for the lessons she had taught me within, with all of her actions Her passing had become a source for my own growth, a reminder of the importance of life, and the importance of embracing forgiveness and love. In the wake of her death, I found a sense of closure; a closure that was above the earthly realm. I carried forward the forgiveness, and understanding that her journey, like mine, had been marred by imperfections and mistakes, and that in the end, we were both human, bound in a destroyed world

Nitzalis Cabrero, Blackstone Valley Prep High School CollegeDecision:UniversityofRhodeIsland,

TalentDevelopment

Mispronounced

“Knit-sil-is? Kneetz-il-lease?”

“It's Nitzalis ”

I found myself repeating my name over and over again to no avail; my elementary teacher still could not pronounce it right. Just like the other people I interacted with from that day forward, no one seemed to know how to pronounce my name or make the effort to learn it. Instead, people would make my name more palatable to them. “I’ll just call you Nitzy.” or “Yeah, that’s too hard I’ll call you Nitz”. I allowed anyone I met to mispronounce my name so that it wouldn't burden them. The day my elementary school teacher mispronounced my name in front of the class was the day that I lost ownership of its phonetics. Overtime, I became accustomed to my incorrect label

Nitzalis, compared to other names of those around me, felt too exotic I had the unfortunate urge as a kid to rid myself of my culture I never wanted to learn the Spanish language; I never wanted to eat Latinx food in front of people; I never listened to the Latinx music my mother would play on the car radio Although I suppressed them, my mother always held our culture and music deeply in her heart. There was a struggle as a kid to fit in with my peers, no matter how much I suppressed my culture. Most of my friends around me were white, and I felt the need to fit into the American culture that they were born into. There came a point where I was too American for my family, but too different for the outside world. No matter what I did no matter who I was with, I was still different.

My mother loved the idea of my name being an extension of hers: “Nitza” In December of 2019, my mother and I were completing our

annual Christmas tradition. Each year, we would go from house to house to sing “Coritos Navidenos” (Christmas choruses), for all of my mother’s church friends. These songs would be accompanied by my mother on the guitar and singing, others playing bongos, maracas, cabasa, guiro, and tambourine. As we stopped at our last house, the smell of fresh food and a sense of comforting warmth wafted through the air as we stepped in. Old ladies hugged and kissed my cheeks, saying, “Hola Nitzalis, te ves tan hermosa” (“Hello Nitzalis, You look so beautiful ”) I plopped on the couch, wanting the night to be over as I sighed They saw me as an extension of my mother but I didn’t They sang along but like always, I watched from afar The whole room sang along very happily, and I felt a pull to join My mother looked at me and gestured for me to pick up the lone tambourine on the table When I decided to pick it up, we all played and sang for hours on end through the night At that moment, I felt accepted, not othered, especially the parts of myself that I had rejected. It felt like a warm hug from someone I have not seen in a long time.

It was then when I started to engage back into my Latinx culture, no longer ashamed, that I started to notice something. It was that rejecting the norm that society pressures onto different people should be why I should strive to be myself and embrace difference.

Nitzalis is the amalgam of who I am. It’s not just my name. It is a portal to my intersecting identities It is the story of my mother An extension of my culture A root that ties me to those who came before me As I prepare to transition to new opportunities through my undergraduate studies, I know this radical acceptance of my whole self and identities will enable me to be receptive to grow and embrace all that Nitzalis has to bring

Felipe Medina-Jal, Classical High School

CollegeDecision: UniversityofRhodeIsland

TalentDevelopment

The Melodies

The melodies of my violin have been a constant presence in my life. From the moment I first held the wooden instrument, I simply knew that playing the violin would play an important factor in my life Both the combination of its graceful sound and ethereal notes that it produces has always held a profound allure for me. Every time the bow draws against the strings, I embark on a musical journey.

I first started playing the violin about ten years ago, when I was seven. My mom found an organization that gave lessons to kids for free At first, I was a bit skeptical, I didn’t even know what a violin was, but eventually I agreed and the following year I was in the program. What started as a nuisance, slowly started transforming into a passion of mine. As time passed by I progressively got better, however I ran into my first challenge four years later. I broke my arm at around eleven years old and I eventually had to stop playing for around eight months. During those eight months, I didn’t have a single thought about my violin Soon, when my arm was fully recovered, I was discouraged and I seriously thought my connection with my violin was over. I stopped going to my lessons and I eventually lost contact with my teacher After almost a year of not touching the instrument, my mom eventually got me back in. My mom was definitely the main reason why I stuck to the violin. Her constant pestering is definitely a factor of why I went back but I’m glad she did that Once I was back on the violin I really started to think about how much I truly missed playing it.

At this point it was like an addiction now. After school, I’d go home and just wait for my mom to get home from work and take me to my lessons I would constantly practice at home and probably spent more time on it than anything else. As a product of my constant playing I began to notice developments in my skills such as my mental capacity When playing the violin, one has to know where to place their fingers and how to read the sheet music, which displays signs of mental capacity. Processing and storing information started coming more naturally to me and I started to see the effects influencing my academics I was able to understand information that was taught to me that I could later remember for an upcoming test. I was also able to store that information in order for me to study

Looking back, I would have never thought that such a small instrument could play such a vital role in my life. I went from being unamused to learning new skills that I can now use in my everyday academic life. I cannot wait to put these skills into use during my college experience and I hope they help me excel and become the best version of myself

““Ineverthoughtthatsucha Ineverthoughtthatsucha smallinstrumentcouldplaysuch smallinstrumentcouldplaysuch

Oluwakemi Amidu, E-Cubed Academy

The Power of Resilience

Three months after my 17th birthday I moved from Nigeria to the United States (U.S.). I waved goodbye to my mom and everything I knew. Walking towards the unknown, I stepped into the airplane, and calmly sat Prior to this long anticipated day, I was a part of a program called Modern United Nations (MUN) for a few months in Nigeria which helped students gain knowledge, public speaking skills, and global travel experiences. As a result of my performance, I was chosen by the leaders of the program to travel abroad to the U.S; however, I was unable to afford the travel expenses at the time. Not allowing our financial barriers to strip me from this opportunity, my mom scrambled to borrow money for me to come to the U.S. on my own on a visa and live with a host family. After two long years, I was able to go.

When I first arrived in the U S , little did I know that I was entering into the worst nightmare of my life. I began living with a host family who cornered me into taking care of their children and doing house chores They took advantage of my vulnerability and desire to live in the U S until 10 months later the neighbors started to question them. “Why has she been home without going anywhere?, ” they demanded answers. Frightened by the attention that they were getting for confining me to their home, my host mom convinced her husband to enroll me at a local high school.

I was excited when my host family enrolled me at E-Cubed Academy since pursuing a better education was my purpose behind living with them. On my first day of school, I stood outside the building confused and clueless I remember my first interaction with a student; they asked, “Were you here last year or are you new to the school?” I froze. My lips remained still but

my heart raced as I pondered how to respond to their question. It wasn’t until I met my best friend several weeks later, who helped me transition into this new high school that later became my family, when I felt confident and comfortable. One day, I gathered the courage to approach her because my instincts told me that she, too, was Nigerian Upon confirmation, and because she was one of few who understood my accent, we became inseparable.

Soon thereafter, I sought out the support and resources that I needed from teachers and staff. I felt invigorated with my best friend by my side as my biggest support system. It was important for me to develop a village since mine was 5,000 miles away Since arriving at E-Cubed on that chilly morning in September of 2021, my English has excelled and so has my public speaking skills. As a member of the E-Cubed Debate Club and Justice League, I’ve developed critical thinking skills and evolved as someone who isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in. The Justice League has empowered me to become more politically conscious and value differences across opinions Three years ago, when I was living with my initial host family, I would’ve never thought that I would gain a community that loved and cared for me in ways that I needed. For the past two years, E-cubed has nurtured me, both personally and professionally, to become who I am today.

Looking back, I used to be someone who doubted success–my parents never graduated from high school and the cards were stacked against me. I have learned that by working hard, and with the proper support system, I can overcome obstacles and adapt to new environments As a first-generation student, college excites me because I have found who I truly am, know my worth, and will make my parents proud.

THANKYOUFOR INVESTINGIN OUR FUTURE OUR FUTURE

“I joined CV because of the College Visions Summer Prep program. Through CV Summer Prep, I realized that CV would be a really good way in preparing for the college process And being in CV, I've gained much more than my initial reason for joining. CV has made college preparations much easier, as I was given the tools and resources needed for my college applications and everything surrounding college in general. For example, my advisor was a great help when filling out my FASFA and he was always ready to answer my questions regarding college ”

“CV really gave me a sense of assurance as it equipped me with knowledge, confidence, and the support needed to get me through the college process. I also really loved how CV gave me a sense of community as they always find ways to include everyone in the events they have planned, asking how everyone one is in their life, and building connections with everyone. Overall, College Visions helped me not only with the college process, but also built a support group I can rely on. ”

Susanah Lawal University of Rhode Island ‘28 Talent Development

CVSCHOLAR CVSCHOLAR STATS STATS

of participants complete the admissions process and enroll in college, making informed choices that support degree attainment compared to 51% of low-income students in Rhode Island

persist to the second year of college compared with only 66% of Providence students, and 64% of students in Rhode Island’s 4 core cities.

graduate from college within 6 years of enrollment compared to 43% of low-income Rhode Island students.

ABOUTCOLLEGEVISIONS:

College Visions empowers low-income and first-generation college students to achieve the promise of higher education, while leading the way for innovative college planning and advising.

Founded in 2004, College Visions guides more than 500 high school and college students each year in our CV Summer Prep, College Access, and College Success Programs. We will celebrate our 530th college graduates this year. CV alums are teachers, nurses, business owners, financial analysts, designers, pharmacists, software engineers, and they also give back through volunteering and board services. Thank you for investing in young people so that they can invest in themselves, their families, and our shared communities!

STAFF

Susan Anderson Director of Programs

Dionna Jenkins College Access Advisor

Darwin Morales College Access Advisor

Joshua Santos College Access AdvisorWoonsocket High School

Jennifer Santos College Success Advisor

Lamont Gordon Executive Director

Moira Hinderer Director of Development & External Relations

Fernando Mendes Finance & Operations Manager

Monephia Nembhard Development Associate