I’M A FARMER’S DAUGHTER—AND SOME PEOPLE THINK THAT

I grew up on a sweet potato farm, where long days and early mornings shaped my life. Hard work was second nature.

When I earned a scholarship to a private high school in the city, I discovered quickly that determination didn’t translate into respect.

On my first day, a classmate smirked, “Do you live on a farm or something?” Others laughed at my clothes and background, even joking about me riding a tractor to school. I stayed quiet, focused on my studies, and kept my home life hidden.

But I hated pretending. At home, I wasn’t a joke—I was Mele, the girl who could patch a tire, handle livestock, and sell produce at the market.

Everything shifted during a school fundraiser. I baked six sweet potato pies from my family’s recipe and they sold out in twenty minutes. Even Izan, one of the most admired students, asked to buy one for his mom. My guidance counselor reminded me, “This pie? This is who you are. Be proud of it.”

Inspired, I launched Mele’s Roots, a small pie business. Orders started flooding in from students, teachers, and even party planners. I baked weekly with my parents and began weaving my farm story into essays and class projects.

For my senior project, I presented a video of my farm—complete with animals, fields, and pies. The audience clapped, some even gave a standing ovation. I realized then that roots aren’t something to hide. They’re what make you strong.