At 14 years old, most children are worrying about homework or high school crushes. I was worrying about survival.

Growing up in Philadelphia with a traumatic home life, the classroom should have been my sanctuary. Instead, it became a holding cell. When I acted out—crying for help in the only way a child knows how—I wasn't met with counseling or compassion. I was met with handcuffs.

I entered the School-to-Prison Pipeline before I was old enough to drive. I sat in cells where I should have been sitting in science class. I felt the cold weight of a system designed to crush potential rather than cultivate it.

But I survived. And when I came home, I made a promise: No other child would walk this path alone. The Black Bird Organization exists because the village that was supposed to protect us has been dismantled. We are here to rebuild it, brick by brick, child by child.