This is much larger than me, this is much larger than St.Louis, and this is much larger than

America.   I am ready to take initiative to mend a broken infrastructure that systemically welds starvation and poverty into minority homes to actively promote the death of minorities. Hi, my name is Jada Iman.  I grew up in a single-parent home all of my childhood .  I have had my father abandon me onthe playground.  My father is an addict.  My brother is a recovering addict.  All of my elders and cousins have gotten pregnant or incarcerated by the age of 21.  I have heard my mother cry at night because there was not enough white rice to feed herself after she had fed her three children, one of which she adopted.  I have seen a proud grandfather work over 100 hours a week trying to own a business.  Though, he still showed up for every grandchild's graduation.  He always made time for his 14 grandchildren to maintain their education. 

I was the last grandchild.  Unfortunately, he could not make it to my graduation, but I had made it.

During an emergency health crisis, he was denied immediate healthcare treatment in a local hospital because he was an uninsured black male.  I bet a white man could work half of what my grandad worked and still be twice as successful because of his skin color.  This system was made to enforce the slavery of minorities.  Not only had I made it to graduation, but I made it as Summa Cum Laude, The President’s Education Award recipient, and Parkway School District's 2018 Humanitarian Award recipient.  I even created a diversity outreach club called Ethnicity United in which we got the principal, Patricia Aitch, to implement a Black History course into the curriculum.  

Upon graduation, I was expected to become an adult like everyone else; Yet, I had not been

properly prepared for adulthood because my mom was busy struggling to balance two jobs, two rowdy teenage boys, racism at work, abuse from her mother, and being a loving mother which she excelled at overwhelmingly.  I have been financially supporting myself since 18, and I have had a job buying myself lunch meals since the age of 16.  A school lunch compared to the same peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a turkey sandwich every day was a luxury for me, so on the weekends and one weeknight, I would work.  My peers couldn't understand why I’d rather sling outfits at Justice in the mall than hang out at the food court with them.  My mom could not afford to give me $3.50 every day which adds up to $70 per month.  That was pricey for a family of four that couldn’t afford dinner most nights.  I didn't even know that reduced lunch options even existed until the last two months of my senior year.  Alas, no one ever tried to tell me. 

 

I have a sweet face, a glorious smile, and a wise nose that can sniff out deception because I

am raised by the people, supported by the people, and I am the people.  My natural ability to perceive malice allows me to live up to my last name, Aleem.  Aleem is a direct translation of “All-Knowing” in Arabic.  By definition, I am wise; nonetheless, I may not know every abundant fact about every topic.  I may not understand the unconscious bias that plagues a democracy.   And I may not have walked in every shoe; yet, I do know how to intently listen.  The behavioral characteristic that I hold the most pride in is my diligent listening skills.  It’s the most valuable asset and my most valuable asset that I posses.  The more I listen, the more I can understand the “unsaid'',  the subliminal institutionalized discrimination that sacrifices the needs of marginalized people to uplift the supremacy of other groups.