Growing up as a young black man in a predominantly white community, I certainly believe that injustice exists in the world, but I also believe that without an actionable plan to mitigate that injustice, the oppressed is just as much to blame as the oppressor.

As you can imagine, being one of the few black men in a predominantly white community had its share of challenges. "Jokingly" being sent pictures of the Ku Klux Klan or being told I'm "not like the rest of them" simply because I don't fit the stereotypes imposed on black men by the media, are common experiences that I've faced growing up on the south shore of Long Island, yet I reflect on these experiences with gratitude. They've given me the strength to start the Student Diversity Council — a student-led group committed to promoting diversity, inclusion, and most importantly, understanding. Sure, some people simply have hate in their hearts, but the majority of time, racism comes from a place of ignorance and a lack of understanding. My council seeks to promote understanding through weekly meetings where a new influential person from a marginalized group is discussed. Each member has the opportunity to share their story with the group, promoting tolerance and understanding. In addition to understanding our classmates, we also explore the stories of others – particularly marginalized groups or those in need. Most recently, and in support of Women's History Month, I organized a fundraiser to give back to those in need. Together, our club raised hundreds of dollars for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation to fund hours in the lab searching for a cure.

The Student Diversity Council inspired my community to start the District-Diversity Council, in which I lead by presenting speeches and actionable plans to ameliorate racial tension within the community by curriculum changes. My oratory and leadership skills, fine-tuned by both councils gave me the ability to mitigate disputes between community members. At our last meeting, the community was divided by a memorial dedicated to two fallen officers from our community that was represented by black and blue balloons in the high school's hallways. Some were outraged that they were up at all, given the current tension between the black community and police officers. Some were upset that it was considered for removal after the backlash. As the president of the District Diversity Council, it is my job to mitigate those disputes. I reminded everyone that support for those who protect us and support for Black Lives Matter can coexist, and I proudly exemplify that possibility. After all, we all share the same goal — to be understood and heard. But what separates those who get things done from those who spew 'meaningful talk' are those who have the humility to listen.

My proclivity for business and commitment to promoting diversity and inclusion intertwine. One must know how to make connections with others, regardless of race and promote inclusion in the workplace. My leadership skills, refined by the Diversity Council's prepare me for a career in business and it taught me management, planning, and oratory skills.

I cannot say that being a young black man in a predominantly white community was easy, but I look back at my experiences at Lynbrook High School with gratitude. Fine-tuned by my desire to make change, the obstacles I have faced and the subsequent leadership skills that resulted from said obstacles, have given others the voice they needed to feel included in a world where that freedom eludes them. It gave my community the willingness to accept a 'District-Diversity Council' and forces those to admit we aren't perfect. But conversation, and more importantly, listening to one another, is the first step in the right direction. My legacy and commitment to ensuring that every person – regardless of how "different" they may be -- will continue years after I leave my small town high school and I'm glad my far-fetched idea will have a positive impact on my community forever.