The first time I saw someone break down in front of me, I didn’t know what to say. It was my friend—someone who always seemed in control, always smiling. But that day, his voice cracked as he admitted, “I don’t think I can keep doing this.” We were sitting in an empty classroom, the weight of his words filling the silence between us. I wanted to help, to offer some kind of solution, but all I could do was listen. In that moment, I realized how much I had misunderstood mental health—not just his, but my own. That realization shaped my understanding of advocacy—not just as a concept but as a responsibility. Mental health struggles often go unseen, and stigma forces many to suffer in silence. Growing up in a community where resilience was praised ,but emotional struggles were rarely discussed, I knew how hard it was to ask for help. That’s why I’ve dedicated much of my time to creating safe spaces and innovative solutions to support youth, both in-person and online. At school, I noticed students praying in stairwells, rushing through worship, afraid of judgment. Faith was supposed to be a source of peace, but without a safe space, it became another source of stress. Through my work in the Advocacy Club, I campaigned for a dedicated prayer room, ensuring students had a welcoming place to practice their faith. More than a room, it was a statement: mental and spiritual well-being should never conflict. Beyond faith-based advocacy, I’ve focused on protecting youth from bullying and cyberbullying. As a member of Harvard’s National Youth Advisory Board, I worked on initiatives addressing peer exclusion and victimization. I led the “Bonding Bridges” project, which aimed to break down social cliques by encouraging inclusive interactions and preventing isolation—often the root of in-person bullying. However, bullying doesn’t stop at school doors. Online spaces, meant for connection, can become harmful. To address this, I participated in the Harvard Hacking Injustice Hackathon, where my team developed an AI-powered tool to help adolescents recognize mental health crises in their peers. The app allows concerned friends to upload chat transcripts—with consent—into a predictive model analyzing distress patterns and providing risk assessments and guidance. Cyberbullying often leaves victims feeling powerless; this tool empowers bystanders to intervene. At UC Berkeley’s Think Neuro program, I explored how neuroscience and telehealth can improve mental health education for youth. My research focused on opioid addiction in underserved communities, examining disparities in treatment access. The materials I helped develop highlighted addiction’s neurological effects and the importance of accessible care. Through this work, I saw how education can help young people recognize warning signs in themselves or their peers, reducing stigma and prompting earlier intervention. Despite my dedication, financial barriers remain a challenge as I enter higher education. My father is currently unemployed, and with my family relying on a single income, college costs are daunting. My parents have always prioritized education, making sacrifices to support me, but tuition and household expenses continue to grow. Still, I’m committed to this work. My experiences have taught me that keeping youth safe—both in-person and online—requires building environments that prevent harm in the first place. Whether through faith-based advocacy, mental health initiatives, or AI-driven safety tools, I am determined to ensure no young person feels unheard, unprotected, or alone.