Fiona Wachera

 A house built of glass, fragile as my childhood. Cracks spread with every argument, shaping the person I’d become. This is where my story begins.

Since 2021, we’ve hosted a summer youth internship program that brings together passionate high school and college-bound students.

Writing, most days, comes easily to me. I sit with pen and spiral notebook and jot ideas, or I face the almighty blank screen of my laptop and wait for my muse to guide my words. One thought may snag my attention, and I’ll obsess over the concept until I create something. Not every piece I produce meets my inner critic’s standards of “quality,” but I ignore that negatively nagging voice and push through until I have something on the page.