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Three local high school students were selected out of 475 contestants in KUHF's This I Believe Essay Competition, hosted in conjunction with the station's local This I Believe weekly broadcast. The three finalists were awarded new laptop computers, $500 and the opportunity to record their essay at KUHF for an upcoming broadcast.
The judging panel for the competition included Rich Levy, Director of Inprint Houston; Lainie Gordon with Spectra Energy; Robin Reagler, Director of Writers in the Schools; Marina Tristan, Arte Publico Assistant Director; Aaron Reynolds, head of creative writing at The University of Houston; Janice Harris, board member for the Association of Community Broadcasting; and Gay Ann Gustafson, HISD Librarian.

KUHF's essay project and local broadcast series hosted by KUHF's Paul Pendergraft is based on the 1950s radio program by the same name. Hosted by journalist Edward R. Murrow on CBS Radio, the original This I Believe invited Americans from all walks of life to stand up for their beliefs.
Our Winners:
(Please select one) Our Honorable Mentions:
Essay Contest Finalist Anoushka SinhaAnoushka Sinha

St. John's School

I believe in the power of community, though I may not always have understood it.

In fact, the word "community" was first introduced to me on a Monopoly game board. A roll of the dice landed me a yellow card from the community chest, which seized fifty dollars from my precious funds. Grumbling, I asked my brother what the word "community" even meant. He scratched his head in childish meditation and said, "Probably something or someone who takes away your stuff."

My early years in Lagos certainly resembled a board game. Every day was a new roll of the dice, a fresh opportunity to explore the city, provided I did not probe too naively the shimmering edges of our social bubble. My sugarcoated childhood felt like a candy-land filled with the most trivial of pursuits. Even on days when I grappled with a failure, I was sure of a happily ever after; it was, after all, just a game. And while I basked in boredom, I remained blissfully unaware of the hot struggles of those who toiled just outside the clean margins of our game board.

"Community" later reappeared as one of my vocabulary words in second grade. Here in Houston I found myself tossed into a brave new world and acted quickly to forge connections with its people. But some automatically branded me an outsider, and their name-calling thrust new and unprintable words into my vocabulary. Demoralized, I would often wish I could simply wash away my differences. But as I grew older I washed away instead these insecurities.

People found it much easier to accept me for who I was after I learned to accept myself. Yes, my skin was brown, yet underneath my blood was red, my bones white. I cannot claim to have stopped caring about my appearance however aside from the occasional pimple, I became comfortable in my own skin. I gave everyone a smile and made an effort to understand others before trying to make myself understood.

Despite my brother's rather ingenious definition of the word, I now believe that "community" is not about what is taken away but instead what we give. My community is the unity I feel with every person who leaves a fragrance on my life. And I will continue to reach out to others and expand that community with each new connection I form. This I believe.
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