This Crown Is Armor: Miss Black United States on Service, Struggle, and Strength

What happens when brilliance meets purpose... and is handed a crown?

For Ilahi Creary, newly crowned Miss Black United States 2025, the answer isn’t just about pageantry. It’s about public service, policy, and the power of taking up space unapologetically. As a Harvard health policy scholar and proud Howard alumna, Ilahi is blending intellect and impact to champion health equity and cultural empowerment for communities that have been historically ignored.

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In this exclusive Q&A with Women for the Culture, Ilahi gets candid about the weight of the crown, the layers of her identity, and the little Black girls she's fighting for every time she enters the room. Her reign is set to be on that extends beyond the spotlight and into real, systemic change.

W4TC: How does it feel to wear the crown not just as a symbol of beauty, but as a platform for advocacy?

IC: It feels like a responsibility that extends far beyond pageantry. This crown isn’t just something I wear, it's something I carry. It represents every girl who was ever told she was “too much” or “not enough,” every woman navigating systems that were never built for her. Wearing it means showing up unapologetically, even when the room feels too quiet for your voice. It’s a constant reminder that beauty without impact is empty, and advocacy without visibility is often ignored. This crown gives my purpose a platform.

W4TC: You represent so many spaces... Black/Brown woman, scholar, advocate, beauty queen. How do you carry all of those identities with you in rooms that weren’t designed for us?

IC: I don’t shrink. I show up with all of it. Because every time I’m told to “tone it down” or “pick one lane,” I remember that I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams. I’ve learned over time that my identities aren’t in conflict, they’re allowed to exist in harmony. They’re why I get invited into the room in the first place. I walk in with my Howard fire, my Harvard discipline, my softness, my strength, my stories, and my truth. Because representation with depth is how we build something new.

W4TC: What does the title Miss Black United States mean to you, beyond the sash and spotlight?

IC: It means visibility. It means possibility and creating tangible change. It means rewriting what a pageant “Miss” can look like, sound like, and stand for. This title is not about perfection or pageantry, it’s about using my power to amplify the voices of the unheard. The power to represent every girl who was ever told to shrink herself or abandon her dreams because her background, body, or brilliance didn’t “fit.” It’s a reminder that we can carry stories of struggle, resilience, and healing and still arrive in the spotlight whole. I don’t wear this crown for applause. I wear it as armor for every moment I thought I wouldn’t make it and as a mirror for those still fighting their way forward.

W4TC: You’re studying health policy at Harvard and proudly repping your Howard roots. How have those two institutions shaped your mission to fight for health equity? Tell us more about your platform, 'Championing Health Equity.'

IC: Howard molded me into who I am. Harvard is teaching me how to fight. My time at both has shown me that equity doesn’t happen by accident—it’s built through intention, policy, and pressure. ‘Championing Health Equity’ isn’t just a slogan. It’s the thread that connects every experience I’ve had, from building clinics in Kenya to increasing vaccination access in Argentina. It’s about redesigning systems so that our communities are not just surviving, but thriving.

W4TC: The phrase on your profile, public health + purpose, is powerful. What does that purpose look like for you in real-time, and how do you hope to turn policy into impact?

IC: Purpose for me means knowing that every decision I make has to serve someone beyond myself. It’s working with people who don’t have access, don’t have trust in the system, and don’t have time to wait for change. My goal is to create policies that actually translate into care. That means getting into the rooms where decisions are made and staying grounded in the people who can’t afford for those decisions to be wrong. Real impact lives at that intersection.

W4TC: In what ways are you using your title to spotlight the health disparities that still affect Black and Brown communities, especially Black and Brown women?

IC: By telling the truth. By using the visibility this title gives me to shed light on what we already know but too often ignore. Maternal mortality, environmental racism, access to mental health services. I show up in advocacy spaces and cultural spaces alike because we deserve to be at both tables. And I’m always centering the stories of people who get left behind in the data.

W4TC: You mentioned a passion for cultural empowerment and elevating underserved voices. What stories or people do you feel still aren’t being heard and how are you using your platform to shift that?

IC: We don’t hear enough from the girl who had to grow up too fast, the one holding her family down while chasing a dream no one believes in but her. We don’t hear enough from people navigating invisible battles while still showing up with excellence.

I carry the stories of girls who grow up in chaos but still dream big. Girls whose homes were filled with silence or shouting. Girls navigating domestic abuse, alcoholism, generational trauma, or loved ones lost to addiction… Girls like me. Our stories are often erased or sanitized, but they matter. We are more than the pain we grew up in. I use my platform to speak directly to those living that reality. I bring these stories into the room so we can dismantle the shame, normalize resilience, and build policy solutions rooted in real lived experience. I show up for them because I am them. My presence is proof that your past doesn’t disqualify your future.

W4TC: What does representation mean to you in 2025? And why is it still such a radical act for a Black and Brown woman to take up space in rooms like these?

IC: Representation means possibility. It means someone gets to dream a little bigger because they saw someone who looked like them do it first. It’s radical because we’re still fighting for permission to be seen as full human beings that are intelligent, soft, capable and powerful. It shouldn’t be revolutionary, but it is because we still have to work 10x as hard to prove why we should have the ability to represent in the first place. Every time I take up space, I do it with that in mind and try to keep the door open behind me.

W4TC: What would you say to the young Black girl who sees you and dreams of being in your shoes one day but doesn’t know if her path will be accepted?

IC: Your path doesn’t need to be accepted. It just needs to be yours. The world will try to shrink you, label you, redirect you but your purpose will always find a way through. Keep dreaming even when it feels too big. Keep going even when it feels too hard. You don’t have to change who you are to fit in. You have to become more of who you are to stand out. And when you do, I’ll be cheering you on!

W4TC: What do you want to be remembered for... not just as Miss Black United States, but as Ilahi Creary, the woman, the visionary?

IC: I want to be remembered as someone who broke barriers with heart. Who stayed rooted in her people while reaching for the stars. Someone who dared to build new blueprints where none existed. A woman who didn’t just wear the crown but used it to unlock doors for others.

As a first-generation student, creating legacy and paving the way for other people like me to follow is extremely important. It’s at the core of everything I do. I want young Black kids to know it’s okay to be delusional in your dreaming. Even in moments where their path might not be clearly laid out or is full of obstacles, it’s okay to find your way through.

W4TC: How can platforms like Women for the Culture support women like you beyond the moment and into the movement?

IC: Visibility is a start, but sustainability is the goal. Women like me need more than a spotlight, we need infrastructure. Long-term investment in our voices, our projects, and our leadership development. Support can look like funding our community work, helping us build networks, pairing us with mentors, and amplifying us when the crown is no longer trending. It’s about giving us the tools to keep going once the cameras stop flashing.

My work will continue after my reign concludes, just like how it did before it ever started. That’s what matters and investment in our passions shouldn’t require a major platform for it to matter. Movements are built on momentum, and platforms like Women for the Culture can ensure that momentum becomes a legacy.

My crown is not just for show, it’s for every girl still learning that her voice, her vision, and her story deserve a spotlight.

Ilahi Creary isn’t just holding a title... she’s holding the door open. In every answer, she reminds us that true representation goes beyond the moment; it lives in the movement. As she continues her reign, we’re reminded that crowns aren't just symbols of beauty... they're blueprints for change. And thanks to women like Ilahi, the next generation knows that they too belong in the rooms they once dreamed of.

Make sure you're keeping up with Ilahi and her platform; follow her on Instagram @diosa.sol and @missblackunitedstatespageant.