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When Aimee Allison was 14, her mother took her to see civil rights leader Jesse Jackson speak — and something changed in her.

Growing up black and biracial in a predominantly white community, Allison regularly experienced incidents of racism. And while she worked hard in school and wanted to someday attend college, it was hard to imagine herself as a leader. After all, she hadn't seen anyone in government who looked like her.

But listening to Jackson changed her whole idea of what her future could entail.

"It was the first time I heard an articulation of what was possible in our country's future by coming together across race," she says.

Image courtesy of Aimee Allison.

The experience inspired Allison to dream big: She wanted to become the first black female secretary of state. She dove into extracurricular activities to set herself up for success, and with each new challenge, she excelled. On her high school's speech and debate team, she did so well that she went on to compete at the national level. Eventually, she ran for student body president, and she won.

Then, when she was 17, she met a recruiter who convinced her that joining the Army Reserves and serving her country would bring her closer to achieving her dreams.

So she signed up and began her training — but it wasn't at all what she expected.

Image via Staff Sgt. Shawn Weismiller.

"I didn't start out as a person who wanted to pick up a gun," she explains.

The once passionate debater and leader quickly found the environment at odds with who she was. "In military training, there's two main things that you're taught," she says. "You follow orders, and you do not speak up."

So when her unit was called to fight in the first Gulf War, Allison felt the need to finally speak up. She didn't actually believe in going to war and knew her calling was elsewhere.

Image via Upworthy.

"There's an easy choice, which is to follow orders and say nothing," she says. "But my conscience, which is another way to say my heart, would not let me do it."

So instead of going to fight, she became a conscientious objector, which allowed her to be honorably discharged from the military so she was no longer expected to serve. It was a tough move to make, especially because her military training had told her not to question her orders. But she knew it was the right decision.

"Becoming a conscientious objector was my call to serving the country, to serving humanity," she says.

Image via Upworthy.

She learned in that moment that she had the ability to stand up for what she believes in.

"All of my work since my time as a teenager in the military has been to follow my heart, to do the thing that's right, and to be as courageous as I can," she says. "That's how I found who I was, and that's how I have been organizing my life ever since," she says.

Remembering how powerful an experience it had been to see Jesse Jackson speak, she realized that she, too, could use her voice to engage her community in the political process.

Image via Upworthy.

Women of color are 20% of the U.S. population and yet only 4% of elected officials.And that's why Allison is speaking out to make sure people of color get more representation.

She's the president of Democracy in Color, an organization that mobilizes black and brown voters and supports progressive candidates of color in order to diversify the government.

Allison also hosts the Democracy in Color podcast, writes articles on women of color in government, and uses social media to engage potential voters in the issues that affect the lives of people of color.

While it's taken a lot of courage for her to follow her heart, Allison's journey is an important reminder that the right path is not always the easiest to take. Now, as a fierce advocate for her community, she's showing others that when the path is unclear, it's time to blaze a new trail.

Do you know anyone making a difference in their community? Nominate them today!

In a stunning political upset, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez just made all kinds of history.

On June 26, 2018, a 28-year-old Puerto Rican Bronx native made some remarkable women's history.

In a stunning upset, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez became the first woman of color to win in New York's 14th district.

Photo by Scott Heins/Getty Images.

As the first woman of color to even run for the seat, Ocasio-Cortez unseated incumbent Rep. Joe Crowley, marking a new era for progressive politics and the far reach of women of color in American government.

In what some declared a losing battle, Ocasio-Cortez ran a campaign as far to the left as one can imagine in American politics. She boldly called for the abolition of ICE after a horrific immigration debacle at the Texas border and unflinchingly ran on a platform of economic, social, and racial justice for all without accepting any political action committee (PAC) money, a largely unheard of fundraising strategy in politics.

Ocasio-Cortez was warned not to run as many said she'd never have a career in politics again. She was told that going against someone who'd been a Democratic powerhouse for decades — and was expected to take Nancy Pelosi's place as Minority Leader of the House of Representatives — was a losing battle. Many news outlets and pundits refused to even say her name or report on her campaign.

And yet, she kept going. And it worked.

It's safe to say that Ocasio-Cortez, while always confident in the platforms she was running behind, was as surprised as the pollsters were. But, she sprang into action quickly after.

Using social media to attract a mass of supporters and canvassers, Ocasio-Cortez spoke in neighborhoods, rallied at various events for underrepresented communities, and ran with endorsements from groups that aren't necessarily the most well-funded or mainstream. She did it on purpose, representing a city that wanted change — and wanted it on its on terms.

"This race is about people versus money," Ocasio-Cortez says in her campaign video. "We've got people; they've got money. It's time that we acknowledge that not all Democrats are the same."

Regardless of where you stand on the issues, Ocasio-Cortez's win is a beautiful display of the power of sticking to one's convictions in the face of adversity.

Having worked as a bartender to help with family bills just last year, Ocasio-Cortez has an up close and personal understanding of inequality, particularly for marginalized groups.

Oscasio-Cortez recently went to the Texas border to see what was happening with the current administration's disastrous immigration policy. Photo by Joe Raedle/Getty Images.

Her historic win is inspiration for women and people of color around the nation. Ocasio-Cortez reminds us all that democracy is fueled by those who believe in it. Ocasio-Cortez believed in her community, she believed in those who needed helped most, and she unapologetically carried those beliefs until the last ballot was cast.

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Delete all men from photos and see what politics really looks like. - Upworthy ›

The photo industry is changing. These 10 beautiful images show why that's a good thing.

Women of color are incredible. This company is making sure the world knows that too.

When Getty Images saw there wasn't enough positive images of women of color, they put their creativity into action.

Currently, more than 80% of photographers are white. Often criticized as only being accessible to the elite, white, and wealthy, the art community has struggled to make careers in the arts lucrative and sustainable for creatives that come from different socioeconomic backgrounds. Getty Images has spent years trying to change that.

"We've always been committed to making sure that the emerging minority photographers have the financial support they need to do their work," says Tristen Norman, head of creative insights and planning at Getty Images. "But beyond that, we're also committed to producing the right content and working with our incredibly large contributor community to do so."

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

Getty Images is amplifying beautiful imagery of diverse communities by working to put women of color both in front of and behind the camera.

To grapple with the very real glass ceiling in the art community — particularly in film and photography — that often impedes artists of color from pursuing the arts full time, Getty created two fellowships to get more women of color behind the camera. The Women Photograph Grant and the Array Grant are designed to foster and elevate female photojournalists from underrepresented communities.

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

"We're acknowledging our issues out loud, and we're taking those steps to correct the issues," Norman explains. "I'm pumped about the grant programs as they represent a more formal step that we're taking to address these challenges, specifically those for underrepresented communities of color that experience a lot of systemic and economic and inequities."

Photo by Rochelle Brock/Refinery29 for Getty Images.

One of the staff photographers currently carrying out the mission toward more inclusive artwork is photographer Naila Ruechel.

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

Ruechel has created stunning, bold, and bright images of women of color — a huge step toward representation and inclusion in the photojournalism industry.

"I think image making is a powerful tool that can really influence society," Ruechel says. "If we don't support diversity, we risk becoming more and more narrow-minded. We need diverse voices to broaden our understanding and acceptance of each other."

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

Ruechel's work serves as a powerful counternarrative to years of women of color being told they don't meet society's standards of beauty and femininity. Unsatisfied with black identity constantly being tied to slavery, she has advocated for photojournalism that shows women of color in beautiful, nuanced ways.

To achieve this goal, she knows that it requires putting women of color in front of and behind the camera to translate those diverse stories to a series of photos.

"I think if we demystify groups that are considered 'different,' we will encourage people to simply look at each other as what we are — humans," Ruechel says. "What I'm trying to achieve with my work is to humanize groups of people whose image have been largely misused, misrepresented, and/or underrepresented."

The industry's pervasive misrepresentations come from a fraught history between white photographers and communities of color.

For decades, women of color have largely been ignored in the high-fashion and high-art industries. Considering them subhuman or lesser-than, many major media companies have often failed to showcase indigenous communities and people of color in normal, human ways, instead catering to stereotypical tropes and problematic typecasts to appeal to antiquated ideas of what it means to be a person of color.

Photo by Caroline Tompkins/Refinery29 for Getty Images.

Most recently, National Geographic became one of the first mainstream media publications to formally apologize for these depictions. In an article titled "For Decades, Our Coverage Was Racist. To Rise Above Our Past, We Must Acknowledge It," editor-in-chief Susan Goldberg called for much-need changes in visual depictions of people of color:

Getty has worked to create an archive of photos of strong, empowered women throughout multiple decades of history, and it wants to take its commitment to inclusion even further.

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

"The very fact someone like me — a black woman with a multitude of other intersecting identities — has joined the creative team at Getty Images is a good indication that things are moving in the right direction within the industry," Norman explains. "That an organization of this size and visibility is so committed to ensuring that diverse talent is shaping their creative both inside and out is an incredible step in the right direction. There's still so much work to do, but the opening and welcoming of my seat and many others at the table is powerful and important."

Photo by Naila Ruechel/Getty Images.

Artwork and photojournalism aren't the only ways to shift the images that people see and the way they think.

A recent British study found that minority groups are represented in less than 20% of brand campaigns.

John Antoniello, a creative director at Sapientrazorfish, thinks that advertising may be one way to continue moving this mission forward. Having worked for various social awareness campaigns, such as HeForShe and Partnership for Drug Free America, Antoniello is aware of just how powerful a role marketing can play in getting society to value diverse imagery.

"I think, at large, the advertising industry is kind of now starting to make this turn, and I think it's going to be interesting to see how these large brands deal with this sort of new world that we live in," Antoniello says. "We have so many new companies and startups that are honing in on not only the kinds of people that they want to talk to but also the values that they stand for."

Photo by Stephanie Nnamani/Digital Vision/Getty Images.

Ruechel, Norman, and Antoniello make one thing very clear: It takes a lot of key players with similar values to make real progress.

When creating diverse imagery is both a priority and a value, we get closer to normalizing this type of imagery for mass audiences.

Photo by Renell Medrano/Refinery29 for Getty Images.

When organizations challenge themselves to increase diversity in front of and behind the camera, they signal that our ideas of beauty, culture, and everyday life need to include the experiences of all people.

When we do this, not only do we get beautiful art, we also create media that is representative of our full, incredible society.

We weren't paid to write this post. (We would tell you if we were!) We just think the work that Getty Images is doing is important and very cool.

This black woman started #MeToo years ago. Now, she's paving the way toward change.

Tarana Burke has been working as an activist for years, but her work has become internationally recognized in recent months after #MeToo went viral.

A longtime advocate for sexual assault survivors, Burke has devoted her life to improving the lives of young girls from marginalized groups. Historically, women of color have often been left out or virtually ignored in conversations around sexual assault and abuse. Burke has made black and brown girls the center of her work and is a driving force in making the #MeToo movement intersectional.

Burke’s visible leadership points to an important shift in feminist causes: Women of color must participate and create, but also be elevated as leaders and innovators.

Burke talked with Upworthy about this need and the importance of intersectionality in the #MeToo movement.

(This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.)

Was there anything that affected your journey early on for working with survivors?

I'm a survivor of sexual assault and sexual violence multiple times, and that was a catalyst for sure. Seeing how much trauma there was in our community was also definitely a catalyst for wanting to use my organizing background to do something to confront this issue.

How has the public response to survivors of sexual assault changed since you began working with them?

In these last several months, it’s changed exponentially. You have to really fight to get people to pay attention to sexual violence as an issue, specifically as a social justice issue.

It’s changed exponentially since it’s become so public and there’s so much media attention to it. People now have the space and the capacity to talk about this in a different way, and those of us who do the work have been fond of taking advantage of the moment to support survivors.

Photo by Bennett Raglin/Getty Images for National CARES Mentoring.

How has social media impacted this huge change within the last few months?

Well, I mean, it’s the catalyst for the change, right? The message has been carried forward and ... has helped shape the public narrative. Mainstream media has done a lot to shape the general dialogue, but I think social media is a great tool for undoing what the mainstream media gets wrong.

When #MeToo gained traction online, many white feminists jumped on this and someone distorted the message and its origins. Social media resurrected your work on influence on this movement. Can you speak to how you felt during that experience and what your response was?

I felt concerned about what was going to happen to the body of work that I'd created, how it was going to be understood in this moment of pop culture meeting that work. But that was quickly dispelled within days ... I was able to insert myself into the conversation.

Intersectionality has been central to the movement's progression today. How do you think that your leadership as black woman visibly creating and leading this movement affects it as a whole?

I think that we have a dearth in black women’s leadership in general, and particularly in large-scale social justice movements in the country. So what we’ve seen over the last several years is that black women have been central to some of the larger social justice movements that have happened in the United States and abroad.

I think that my position as a leader of this work will contribute to that tradition of black women in leadership. Hopefully, what we'll see is a shift in people’s response to leadership.

Why did you make the decision to work with black and brown girls specifically?

Because that’s the work that I do and I’ve always done it. I’ve always worked in my community, and I’ve put my people first. The work expanded over the years and has expanded to deal with all kinds of survivors, but I have always centered the most marginalized people.

Photo by DON EMMERT/AFP/Getty Images.

How do you think making intersectionality so central to the movement impacts feminist causes overall?

Any work — social justice work, any kind of work that is involving justice — has to have an intersectional lens. I think people have learned a word, but I don’t know if they’ve learned a practice. I think the word is used abnormally at this point for people that are having conversations, sort of like white privilege. But understanding the word and being able to regurgitate the definition is very different from amplification and actual action happening. So that remains to be seen.

There’s a growing understanding around it, and I think the younger generation really has a stronger grasp of the need for that approach to doing the work than (possibly) people in my generation.

Why do you think that young people have that stronger grasp?

People from my generation have been talking about it for 20 years, and people in this generation have picked this up. And now we have things like social media, and people can create their own media to continue to push those things out so that people can learn on their own.

It’s not so much of what people are learning in school — it’s those people that are speaking out on how to do this work. They know have access to this work that other folks didn’t have access to. It’s starting to shift the way that people think and interact.

The #MeToo movement has grown quite a bit in the last few months. How do you feel about the state of the movement today?

I think that there are positives and negatives, like anything else. I think there are huge misconceptions about what this movement is about. And the biggest part of the work for those of us who are doing the work is to change the narrative. But it's also gives us an expanded platform to talk about sexual violence in ways that we have been determined to since the beginning. So we have to take advantage of that.

Some critics have insinuated (or plainly stated) that the movement has lost its way or has been diluted, even comparing it to a witch hunt. What would you say in response to that criticism?

I would say that they don’t know what this movement is.

First and foremost, not even including my body of work before this moment took place, Alyssa Milano’s tweet had nothing to do with anything but people making a declaration about what they experienced, so that the world could see the magnitude of it.

Everything else that has happened, every consequence, every fallout, has nothing to do with the work that we have to do to support survivors. And that’s all this movement is about. It’s about supporting survivors and doing the work to end sexual violence.

Burke is the founder of Just Be Inc. She has a forthcoming memoir on her life and the ways in which sexual violence impacts the lives of black and brown girls in America set for release in 2019.

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Lawyers' Committee for Civil Rights

After an intense, widely watched campaign, Democrat Doug Jones won Alabama's open seat in the U.S. Senate.

It's the first time a Democrat has held the spot in more than 20 years, and the victory cost Republicans a desperately needed seat just as the fight to pass major items on the GOP's agenda has become particularly heated.

Doug Jones' win was huge for Alabama — and the nation too — but as the exit poll data has emerged, it's very clear who pushed him over the line: black people, particularly black women. Nearly 97% of black women in Alabama voted for Jones. 97%!

After Jones' victory, social media erupted with messages thanking black women for once again carrying the Democratic party to victory.

While black women are rarely anyone's majority, we are united, consistent, and right on time. So come election night, we tend to be thanked profusely (then promptly forgotten about) or maligned, depending on how things turn out.

But Tuesday. Tuesday appeared to be our night:

But, hey, Steve's got a point.

While gratitude is always welcome, and appreciated, if you really want to show your appreciation for black women, do something tangible. Put another way: Show us the money.

Thank-yous and handclap emojis won't keep the lights on or help more people of color win elections. But you know what will? Cold hard cash.

Here are 15 ways to spend your money, power, time, and resources to thank black women for carrying the political load.

1. Support black women running for office.

Yard signs. Phone banks. Field work. And, most importantly, monetary donations. No black women running for office near you? No excuses. Consider contributing to Stacey Abrams, a black Democrat running for governor of Georgia.

2. Get serious about closing the wage gap.

You've likely heard the statistic that women earn 78 cents for dollar a man makes doing the same job. That's white women. Black women earn about 64 cents for every dollar. Connect with and contribute to groups like the 78 Cents Project and the National Women's Law Center, who work tirelessly to bring about change in this arena.

3. Push for fair districting and open, easy voter registration in your community.

Not only did black women in Alabama come through at the polls, they did it in spite of roadblocks put in place to disenfranchise them. Political gerrymandering, voter ID requirements, and early registration deadlines diminish the back vote. Get involved locally and on the national level with groups fighting for full voting rights for everyone. Jason Kander's Let America Vote is a great place to start.

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images.

4. Help fund and build a political pipeline filled with black women.

There are three black people currently serving in the U.S. Senate, including Kamala Harris, the daughter of Jamaican and Indian immigrants. We can and must do better, not just at the highest offices, but on city councils, school boards, and municipal positions. Groups like Higher Heights and the National Organization of Black Elected Legislative Women work to promote the presence of black women in all levels of government.

Photo by Drew Angerer/Getty Images.

5. Stop asking black women to work for free.

All work, even emotional and psychological labor, has dignity and deserves compensation. If you're online or in a meeting and are about to ask a black person you don't know to teach you something, share their opinion on an issue "as a black person," or ask them to explain why some other black person in the news did or didn't do something: STOP. Or at least, offer to pay them for their time. (And if you really need it, consider reaching out to the white volunteers at White Nonsense Roundup to perform that emotional labor instead.)

6. Support a living wage and the Fight for $15.

You know what else shouldn't come free? Physical labor. Even working full-time, someone earning the federal minimum wage ($7.25/hour) does not earn enough money to support themselves, let alone a small family. A living wage, $15/hour, would go a long way to pulling women of color working entry-level, retail, or food service positions out of poverty, and it could improve the health and education prospects for their children.

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images.

7. Volunteer or fund "get out the vote" efforts and field campaigns in 2018.

One of Doug Jones' keys to success was activating a large grassroots effort to reach out to communities of color — making calls, knocking on doors, putting billboards in neighborhoods often ignored. Some will (rightfully) argue he still could have done more and that the effort to get people of color involved in politics shouldn't happen only every few years. To those people, I say: Please open your wallet or your calendar and help out. These efforts are effective, but they take time and do not come cheap.

8. Start a monthly donation to your local NAACP.

Guess who's been doing work on the ground to mobilize black communities for a century? The NAACP. Find and fund your local unit or contribute at the national level. They've been doing the heavy lifting not just on political matters, but on education, civil rights, environmental justice, health care, and more.

NAACP national president and CEO Cornell Brooks joins the Rev. Joseph Darby and other local leaders for a news conference about the Charleston shooting. Photo by Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images.

9. Listen to black women when we talk about the issues that keep us up at night — or the issues that will bring us to the voting booth.

Statistically, if you're white in this country, you don't have a lot of black friends to listen to. No excuses. Pick up a magazine like Essence, Black Enterprise, or Ebony. Read sites like The Root, The Grio, or Very Smart Brothas. Follow black women on Twitter. (I even made you a list.) Listen, read, take notes. The black women going to the polls are not voting to save white people or the country at large; they're voting for what's best for them and their families. Maybe it's time someone asked what that looks like.

Photo by Michael B. Thomas/AFP/Getty Images.

10. Spend money at black-owned businesses.

Support black makers and entrepreneurs, authors and designers, particularly in black neighborhoods. Keeping these areas thriving and limiting gentrification will help boost black wealth; create a sense of history, place, and tradition; and keep black families together. Visit the National Black Chamber of Commerce to find black-owned businesses in your community.

11. Recruit, hire, retain, and promote black women at every level and in every industry.

Whether you're a hiring manager or an entry-level employee, you can do your part to help black women succeed at the level they deserve. You can send job announcements to black career search accounts and hashtags run by black people like @ReignyDayJobs, @WritersofColor, or @BlackFreelance1. If you're higher up in your role, ask leadership about their strategy to diversify at the senior level or what's being done to make your workplace more inclusive.

[rebelmouse-image 19475741 dam="1" original_size="750x500" caption="Photo by WOC in Tech Chat/Flickr." expand=1]Photo by WOC in Tech Chat/Flickr.

12. Stop at nothing but full enfranchisement for former felons.

A law that's more than a century old has allowed county registrars to deny the vote to thousands of former felons in Alabama, many of them black. In August, thousands of these people regained the right to vote, and many voted for the first time. Other states have not restored the vote to former felons, forever disenfranchising them well after they paid their debt to society. Find out the rules in your state and mobilize to help everyone get the right to vote.

13. Don't sit idly by when black women are disparaged, ridiculed, or made to feel less than by powerful people and corporations.

Gabby Douglas was trying to win a gold medal and people were concerned about her hair. Leslie Jones had trolls bully her off the internet. Jemele Hill was attacked by the president of the United States. And don't get me started on Dove. When things like this happen — to celebrities or regular black women in the media — speak up. Tell offenders (with your voice and wallet) that hating on black women is not OK.

Jemele Hill photo by D Dipasupil/Getty Images for Advertising Week New York.

14. Give a damn about the alarming mortality rate for black mothers.

Pregnancy and childbirth are claiming the lives of black women at a truly staggering rate. In Texas, black moms accounted for just over 11% of the births but more than 28% of pregnancy-related deaths. This is a national crisis no one is talking about. So talk about it, and ask what your doctors, nurses, and hospitals are doing to protect these vulnerable women and children.

15. Like a thing? Find a black woman doing it and put money in her pocket.

Do you like movies? Stream "Mudbound," directed by Dee Rees. Are you a foodie? Buy a cookbook written by a black woman. (May I suggest this one?). Interested in space exploration? Read this awesome book by Mae Jemison. Whatever you enjoy, black women are already there and killing it. Find them and pay them for it.

[rebelmouse-image 19475743 dam="1" original_size="750x500" caption="Mary J. Blige and Dee Rees discuss their film "Mudbound." Photo by Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images." expand=1]Mary J. Blige and Dee Rees discuss their film "Mudbound." Photo by Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images.

This country was built on the blood, sweat, and tears of black women.

And yet, we still haven't received the respect, power, and resources we deserve. Thank-yous will never be enough. Money will never be enough. But if a grateful nation ever hopes to make it right, they're a damn good place to start.

Photo by Stephen Morton/Getty Images.

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'With this episode, they see a family that looks like our family.'

For the first time ever, Amanda Deibert's daughter saw something fantastic while watching Saturday morning cartoons:

A family that looked like her own.

Deibert, a Los Angeles-based writer, was just one of many parents reacting with excitement to a new episode of Disney's "Doc McStuffins" that featured an interracial family with two moms.

In the episode, the family lives through a scary earthquake and learns the importance of having a safety plan in case of emergencies. But it's the series' decision to feature a same-gender couple — voiced by actors Portia de Rossi and Wanda Sykes, who are both lesbians — that's actually groundbreaking.

“The diversity of the show and having an African-American little girl be the star of the show — and also being a doctor — it sends a great message,” Sykes explained in a video by GLAAD about her involvement.

“I am a fan of Doc McStuffins," Sykes said. "My kids, they watch the show. With this episode, they see a family that looks like our family."

Wanda Sykes (left) and her wife, Alex Sykes, in 2015. Photo by Jason Carter Rinaldi/Getty Images.

The inclusive episode comes amid growing demands for better LGBTQ representation across the TV landscape.

During a Television Critics Association press tour, GLAAD broke down troubling trends among queer representation on TV; among the most concerning issues was the need to feature more LGBTQ characters who are women and people of color. The latest "Doc McStuffins" episode helps in changing that status quo.

Not everyone is excited about the episode.

In response to Sykes and de Rossi's characters, conservative advocacy group One Million Moms urged supporters to email and call Disney demanding the "Doc McStuffins" episode never be seen by the public.

"If producers air this episode as originally planned, then conservative families will have no choice but to no longer watch Disney Channel Network in their homes so they can avoid previews, commercials, and reruns," the group threatened.

But Disney aired the episode anyway. And many people stood by its side.

The hashtag #StandWithDoc cropped up on Twitter in response to the backlash.

People from across the internet sent encouraging messages to Disney and the thousands of families who will be positively affected by the episode.

The outpouring of support and Disney's decision to follow through with the episode reflects society's growing acceptance of LGBTQ people and parents. To countless little kids watching in family rooms across the country, it makes a difference.

"We’re two moms, and we have a boy and girl, two kids," Sykes said. "It’s going to be very exciting for them to see that — to see our family represented.”

Get a behind-the-scenes look at the episode in this video by GLAAD:

Meet the photographer challenging stereotypes and celebrating black sisterhood.

Miranda Barnes didn't have to look far to find the inspiration for her heartwarming photography project.

In her collection, "Doubles," the 22-year-old photographer from Brooklyn captures the indelible sisterhood of black female twins, glowing with joy and affection for one another.

Photo by Miranda Barnes, used with permission.

Her grandmother was a twin and passed away in 2009. The family only has a few photos of the twins together, so Barnes pursued this project as a way to reconnect with her family history and celebrate the kinship among black women — sisters by blood or shared experience.

"When we talk about black women being celebrated for being caring and loving, it's always in a mothering way but never in a sisterhood way," she says.

Barnes' grandmother, Joyce, (left) with her twin, Jean, in 1978.

But finding black twins to photograph wasn't easy.

When the project began, she didn't know any sets of black girl twins. She met her first pair of twins through a mutual friend and a few more through chance encounters that can only be described as fate. Once, Barnes saw a mom and her twin daughters on the subway.

"She was a tired mom with two kids, and I was like, 'This is going to sound so weird,'" Barnes says with a laugh. "But she let me into her home, and we've remained friends. ... It's funny to see how I met a lot of these people."

Photo by Miranda Barnes, used with permission.

Now, with the project generating so much buzz, twins are approaching her, making the scouting process easier. She even considered expanding the project to include male twins, but after a few shoots, she just wasn't feeing the same connection to her work. For now, she's focusing her attention on women and girls.

Photo by Miranda Barnes, used with permission.

Barnes hopes her series exudes the joy and warmth she sees in black women each day.

Too often, the media represents black women with stereotypes and tired tropes of the angry black woman or the mamie-like matriarch. Shows like "Living Single" and "Girlfriends" have long been cancelled. Reality programs like "Real Housewives of Atlanta" and "Love and Hip-Hop" focus more on backstabbing and fights than genuine relationships.

Photo by Miranda Barnes, used with permission.

Undoing generations of stereotypes to celebrate black womanhood, friendship, and sisterhood is no easy task, but it's vital work.

"I don't think my photos can change that, but I do like to show a different side of black women that deserves to be shown," Barnes says.

Photo by Miranda Barnes, used with permission.