7 • Continued from previous page everything, absolutely everything, can change in a flash. Irma stripped us bare, but she also revealed our roots. Our resilience. Our strength. And the quiet power of community. If I could speak to the 14-year-old me huddled on that kitchen floor, knees to chest and praying beneath the howl of the storm, I’d tell her this moment won’t last forever. Life has a rhythm of its own, always flowing, always shifting. What feels like the end is usually just a passage. Even in the middle of chaos, there is beauty in motion. And that’s the lesson that’s stayed with me. Gratitude. Gratitude became my lifeline. Yes, the days were hard. Months without power. The daily struggle to find food. My mom and I traveling to random buildings just to charge our devices. Most of my classmates had already left the island. Our class of 19 became just 10. But even then, I had breath in my body and some kind of future waiting for me. I held onto that. I finished school. I graduated. I kept going. If I had the chance to speak to anyone facing a storm, literal or otherwise, I’d tell them this. Life can strip you of everything except your faith. Whether it’s faith in the Most High, the universe, or simply in the belief that things will get better, that faith is what keeps your spark alive. My generation jokes about being delusional. But honestly? It works. That deep, unwavering belief that every road somehow leads to a better ending? That’s what gets you through. That’s what carried me forward. It’s what still carries me now. Resilience Personified When I hear the word resilience, I picture a tree rooted firmly in the earth. Its trunk steady, even as the winds of life whip it back and forth. Storm after storm, you’ll see leaves fall. Branches snap. And sometimes, the wind bends it so low to the ground you’d swear it’s about to break. But it doesn’t. Instead of breaking, it bends into a new shape. One carved by every gust, every blow, every challenge it’s survived. That tree becomes a living reflection of strength, of growth, of endurance. That’s how I define resilience. The ability to bend, weep, and endure, but never stop bearing fruit. That’s exactly what I’ve witnessed in the British Virgin Islands. We’ve weathered so much. From back-to-back hurricanes in 2017 to a global pandemic just three years later. Our economy took major hits. Our population changed. And yet, the spirit of our people remains unshaken. Our numbers show recovery, yes. But more importantly, so do our stories, our voices, and our drive to move forward. What I hope this message leaves behind is simple. Don’t let your current reality dictate how you move through life. The world will always have its storms. There will always be economic downturns, disasters, grief, and uncertainty. That part doesn’t change. But you can. What does change is how you choose to face those challenges, how you grow through them, and how you use those lessons to light the way for others. That’s what community is about. Surviving, healing, and building together. Angelique Lettsome is a 22-year-old Virgin Islander and proud graduate of both H. Lavity Stoutt Community College and the University of the Virgin Islands. She holds an associate’s degree in general science and a bachelor’s degree in biology with minors in psychology and communications. Angelique is passionate about storytelling, and community resilience and believes in using her voice to spark healing and to inspire others, especially youth, to rise from challenges with strength and purpose.
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