Alumni Essay 18

Reflecting on my participation in Youth Lead KC, I can confidently say that I am not the same person I was when I first walked into that room. When we were volunteering for who should lead our 20/20 project, I tried my best to stay quiet. I had always believed that I was too emotional to lead. Ever since I was young, I have felt everything deeply. Whether it was anger, jealousy, excitement, or motivation, my emotions always felt bigger than me. I thought that made me weak.

When my close friend volunteered to be the leader, we decided to co-lead. At first, I relied on her emotional stability. I assumed she would balance me out. But as time passed and she became busy with her classes, most responsibilities fell on me. I was forced into a position I never thought I was capable of handling.

Our project was to create a boutique that would provide gently used clothes, hygiene products, and winter gear to students in need. We wanted it to be more than a storage room. We wanted it to feel safe and welcoming. We met with our principal, brainstormed ideas, and set goals. Then everything stalled. The location we planned to use was no longer available. Our principal avoided us. Classmates were overwhelmed with their own responsibilities. Progress stopped.

I remember crying to our coordinator because I felt like I had failed everyone. I felt ashamed watching other groups move forward while we were stuck. During that time, I reminded myself of a Somali saying that means a finger cannot wash a face. It takes the whole hand. I realized that leadership is not about doing everything alone. It is about persistence even when support feels limited. It is about asking for help even when you are uncomfortable.

Youth Lead KC forced me to confront my weaknesses. I had to speak in front of large groups. I had to communicate with administrators. I had to follow up with people who ignored us. I learned that my emotions are not obstacles. They are the reason I care so much. My empathy and frustration were not weaknesses. They were fuel.

Now, as we prepare to open the boutique, I understand what leaving a legacy means. It is not about recognition. It is about building something that continues after you leave. Future students will have access to resources without feeling embarrassed. They will walk into a space created by students who believed they deserved support. That is a legacy to me.

In the future, I will use what I learned by continuing to build spaces that make people feel seen and understood. Whether that is through starting a nonprofit organization one day or becoming a psychiatrist, I want to create environments where people feel safe asking for help. Youth Lead KC taught me that leadership is uncomfortable, emotional, and difficult. But it is also necessary. And I am no longer afraid of it.