Annie Pringle Memorial Scholarship

Breast health education is not just important to me—it is essential to my life’s mission. I believe that the body holds stories, pain, memory, and potential for transformation. As a wellness practitioner, kinesiology graduate student, yoga teacher-in-training, and a Black woman shaped by both ancestral wisdom and lived experience, I view breast health as more than a medical concern. I see it as a deeply spiritual, emotional, and community-rooted issue that demands urgent attention, compassion, and culturally informed education. I was raised in Detroit, Michigan, in a family where health issues were often whispered about, hidden, or managed in silence. I’ve seen women I love delay mammograms, ignore pain, or minimize symptoms because they didn’t trust the system—or worse, didn’t feel seen within it. I’ve watched how systemic racism, generational trauma, and misinformation create dangerous gaps in care for Black women. And I’ve witnessed firsthand the toll it takes when access to breast health education is absent or inaccessible. This silence is not benign—it is fatal. That is why I am committed to being part of the solution. Annie Pringle’s legacy touches me deeply because she was not only a healthcare professional—she was a nurturer, a guide, a presence in the breast health community. She showed up for others with knowledge, tenderness, and strength. I want to follow in those same footsteps, not only as a student but as a future educator, practitioner, and leader in wellness spaces that center the people most often left out of the conversation. Currently, I’m working toward multiple wellness certifications including Kemetic Yoga, Vinyasa Yoga (200HR and 300HR), Somatic Healing, and Bodybuilding through NASM. I hold a BFA in Acting, a Master’s in Kinesiology, and I’m preparing to begin my MBA at the University of Michigan–Flint. On the surface, these paths may seem varied—but they are all guided by one central purpose: to help heal and empower the Black community through embodied knowledge, wellness education, and safe spaces for transformation. Breast health is a core part of that mission. Breast health is not just about detection or treatment—it’s about agency. It’s about teaching people, especially women and those with marginalized genders, how to listen to their bodies, advocate for themselves, and feel safe doing so. It’s about understanding the language of the body—how discomfort, swelling, fatigue, or asymmetry are not nuisances to ignore, but signals to respect. That type of awareness begins with education. The kind of education that is accessible, inclusive, and free from judgment or fear. For me, breast health also connects to movement, to somatics, and to healing modalities that reconnect us to our physical selves. When I teach yoga or guide a client through breathwork, I don’t just see bodies—I see sacred vessels that deserve reverence and care. The chest and heart space are often where we hold grief, trauma, and unspoken truths. I’ve seen students cry in heart-opening postures or tremble during breathwork. That is the body’s intelligence at work. And when we talk about breast health, we must include emotional and energetic health too. The body remembers. Inflammatory breast cancer, the disease that took Annie’s life, is one of the most aggressive and underdiagnosed forms of breast cancer—especially among Black women and people assigned female at birth. It doesn’t always present as a lump, which means it’s often missed or misdiagnosed. This is where education becomes life-saving. We need more professionals who know the signs, who can teach the signs, and who can do so in culturally relevant, trauma-informed ways. My goal is to build community-based wellness and education platforms that integrate breast health education into broader conversations about fitness, healing, and embodiment. I want to host workshops on breast self-exams, teach yoga flows that support lymphatic drainage and breast tissue awareness, and invite breast cancer survivors to share their stories. I want to make breast health feel approachable, empowering, and even sacred. I’m especially passionate about serving people who are often erased in traditional breast health spaces—trans and nonbinary individuals, LGBTQ+ folks, and especially Black queer women. Our needs are different. Our risks are higher. And our inclusion is non-negotiable. I want to become the kind of educator and practitioner who doesn’t just teach but listens, holds space, and builds trust. Just like Annie did. My educational path, while nontraditional, is intentionally interdisciplinary. I don’t want to only be in clinical rooms—I want to be in community centers, schools, yoga studios, wellness events, and anywhere people gather to learn about their bodies. I want to demystify breast health and weave it into everyday life. Because prevention shouldn’t be a privilege—it should be part of our cultural fabric. Receiving this scholarship would not just support my academic journey—it would affirm my calling. It would allow me to deepen my studies, invest in more certifications, and create more programming for my community. It would help me bring Annie’s legacy to life by continuing the work she championed: making breast health education accessible, powerful, and personal. I believe that breast health is an act of liberation. When we know our bodies, when we understand the systems we live in, when we’re equipped with knowledge—we are harder to silence, easier to heal, and more capable of change. That’s the future I want to build. One breast, one body, one sacred life at a time.