I pull myself back to my community’s history–de facto segregation floats around as a haunted ghost wandering the streets of Long Island with a singular motive. Day in and day out, surrounding communities lack diversity and representation.

My school district is dissimilar to others on Long Island, embodying a diverse community as the first district in New York to possess a state-designed integration order. Discrimination towards the Lakeview community within our community sustains continuously.

I stepped onto the wooden platform at Malverne Village Hall, immediately faced the panel of board members, positioned the microphone to my face, and placed the notecard jotted with points I thought I’d needed into my pocket.

Months of preparation and research gave me the confidence to confide in the horrifying history of a name that sounds so simple yet is so detrimental.
To me, commemorating should be done to honor an individual for their righteous legacy, character, and unceasing sacrifices that infiltrate our society today.

Lindner Place, the street name of our primary school where hundreds of children including once I, once walked down daily, is named after Paul Lindner, who was a prominent Ku Klux Klan leader on Long Island, igniting various acts of hate, racism, and violence. He initiated the burning of mi

nority-orphanages, led hateful marches with thousands of attendees, and cross burnings across my own peers' homes.

The name "Lindner Place" commemorates hate and violence, something our distinct school community and learning atmosphere doesn't condone.
In utter disbelief, determined to instill change, my friends and I created a documentary on the history of racism within the Malverne community and schools, exposing the chilling truth during our research journey.

I prepared a speech and documentary that I presented at a Malverne Village Hall meeting, school speak-out, and to the local NAACP Lakeview Branch attempting to convince the Malverne Town Board to change the name through my own voice, viewpoint, and activism.

Especially as a minority, being a catalyst for change and standing firm before my own morals makes me who I am, and of course, strengthens me with history, lessons, and inspiration by my side. My mother, a 9/11 survivor inspires me to break through substantial obstacles that may seem immense at first sight but come with ease to decimate through passion. MLK, 56 years ago, standing by a crowded street in Lakeview, a piece of our school community that embodies diversity, asserts his message that we shall overcome hate. I joined a committee with an abundance of activists ranging from public speakers to NAACP Lakeview Branch members outside my school community to further this grassroots, community-driven effort.

This all instituted as an AP US History project, behaving as a catalyst of grassroots activism. As of April 2022, we erased hate as the Malverne Board members voted unanimously to eradicate the street name. As senior year flies by, I realize education grew me a voice to accelerate change– and I’m exhilarated to continue at Duke University this fall.