Looking back now, I can say with certainty that I would not be here today, in the United States, pursuing an education and a dream, if not for my aunt. Her hands were roughened by work that should never have been hers. Her dreams of education were traded for a life of sacrifice. She shed her blood, sweat, and tears so my father could learn, so he could build a different future. He did just that, but unfortunately, not with her. My aunt was born five years before my father.

My Power Was Never Hard to Pronounce—Just Hard to Contain Growing up in a predominantly white community in Wisconsin, I was one of only three Indian students in my entire high school. For four years, I faced racism, bigotry, adversity, and xenophobia—experiences that made me acutely aware of my differences. My name, Alabhya, meaning "one who is invincible," was constantly mispronounced or reduced to nicknames for convenience. Instead of making the effort to learn my name, tea

Influence doesn’t always look like a grand gesture; often, it’s found in the smallest corners of our lives. From the moment we’re born, we’re shaped by the people and environments around us. The influence of others begins long before we even notice it and, as we grow, it molds our beliefs, choices, and the way we see ourselves. By the time we become mothers—or even consider the possibility of motherhood—that shaping continues, but with new layers.

My name is Nikitha Manikonda. I am currently a junior at Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) studying bioinformatics. I’ve been doing...

Every child says something to their parents that they regret and want to forget. The thing I said, I can’t forget it and I’ve come to...