TRAM Resilience Scholarship

Some wounds you can see. Others you carry beneath the surface. I live with both. As a disabled U.S. Army veteran, I carry the scars of war—some visible, like the mobility impairments I sustained from an IED blast in Afghanistan, and others less obvious, like the chronic pain and psychological trauma that linger long after the battlefield has quieted. But these challenges have not defined my limitations; they have defined my purpose. In 2009, while deployed in Helmand Province, my convoy struck an improvised explosive device. I was the only survivor. I suffered extensive orthopedic injuries, underwent numerous surgeries, and began a long, painful road of physical rehabilitation. Even today, I live with permanent mobility impairments that affect everything from how I walk to how long I can sit in a classroom chair. But the biggest impact of my disability has not been on my body—it’s been on how I see the world and what I believe I’m called to do within it. Navigating life after combat as a disabled veteran was not easy. Simple tasks became complex. My identity as a soldier had to evolve into something new. I became a single father to my daughter, Adysen, who has been my greatest source of strength and motivation. I also became a mentor to other veterans, helping them navigate their own healing journeys. These experiences helped me realize that while I could no longer serve on the frontlines, I could still serve—just in a different uniform. That realization led me back to school. I’m currently pursuing my Master’s Entry in Nursing Practice (MENP) at Elmhurst University. My goal is to become a psychiatric nurse practitioner, specializing in trauma-informed care for veterans, first responders, and underserved populations. I believe that those of us who have endured the deepest wounds are often best positioned to help others heal. I want to turn my lived experience into professional expertise—combining clinical skill with hard-earned empathy to walk alongside others through their pain. Living with a disability has taught me patience, adaptability, and relentless determination. I've had to advocate for accommodations, adjust to physical limitations, and prove—again and again—that I am capable, even when the world sees my disability before my ability. It’s also taught me compassion. Whether volunteering with a local veteran support group or mentoring first-generation students with disabilities, I’ve committed myself to lifting others up, just as others once did for me. The financial burden of graduate school is heavy, especially as a single parent living on a fixed income. Scholarships like this one don’t just make education possible—they affirm that stories like mine matter. Receiving the TRAM Resilience Scholarship would help me cover tuition, purchase adaptive equipment, and reduce the stress that comes from balancing medical bills, school fees, and parenting responsibilities. More importantly, it would empower me to keep moving forward toward a future where I help others rise from their own brokenness. My disability may have changed the way I walk, but it never changed my direction. I walk now with greater purpose—toward a life of service, healing, and hope. With your support, I will continue this journey, not as a victim of circumstance, but as a leader shaped by resilience.