Brown’s culture fosters a community in which students challenge the ideas of others and have their ideas challenged in return, promoting a deeper and clearer understanding of the complex issues confronting society. This active engagement in dialogue is as present outside the classroom as it is in academic spaces. Tell us about a time you were challenged by a perspective that differed from your own. How did you respond?

I learned a new slur during my first day on my slam team.

The “M-word,” coined by the former president, was “melanin.” To her, Black poetry was overdone, so she advised Black teammates to avoid racial topics, fearing they would “bore the judges.”

“We get it— you’re black,” she quipped, “can you talk about anything else?” Following that meeting, I avoided Black poetry. My racial experience was a broken record— an earworm of sob stories over events only read about in history books.

However, after experiencing all the distinctive, poignant Black pieces at my first slam competition, I realized that we do art a disservice when we try to police or limit others’ creations. Moreover, I learned that seniority should never eclipse core values.

This insight stirred my young POC writers initiative years later— a global support system for marginalized creatives. Complete with virtual open mics, advice forums, and resource directories, my goal was to create a safe haven for underrepresented writers and be the mentor I craved during my first slam meeting.

However, respecting my former president’s intentions, I urge my creatives within the initiative to chase uniqueness in their art. Today, I play with several nuances of racism in my writing. In one piece, I explore Black boys as recyclables in the prison system. In another, I use evolutionary theory to hypothesize a truly “post-racial” America.

During my first day as president of my slam team, I taught my poets a new phrase: artistic freedom.