Just write about HOW you were called to activism:
In my life as a half African, half Finish girl to woman, I was told subtly my whole life that the most valuable part of me is my skin, and my job was to be the smart black one. I was on calendars, posters, and brochures.
LOOK! Everyone called. WE HAVE A SMART BLACK ONE!
I was sick of it by high school. I wouldn't apply to any program for kids of color because I was SICK of being a student of color. I was sick sick sick of it.
I got to college and I realized why it mattered that I was a student, person, woman of color. It didn't matter how sick I was of being black. Everywhere I went I was perceived FIRST as black and second as something else. Also, it stopped being a valuable part of me. It was a part of me that meant I didn't REALLY have a say and I didn't REALLY belong in school because I probably didn't REALLY get in on my own.
I'm teaching in a school of black and brown students with white teachers. Many of them love the kids like they are their own, but some of them look at our students like pitiful creatures that need to be saved. BACK OFF.
I got back into being a voice of color on purpose. I am the woman of color at my school and I do speak for us and we are important and it does matter.
I am a leader in our union. I am there because I care deeply for my students, and I am there because I'm black. I am there for my students and I am there for my colleagues. I was called to be an activist. An activist of color. A woman activist of color. A young woman activist of color. A young woman activist of color from Washington.
I am a Bad Ass Teacher. Watch out.