Texas Women Empowerment Scholarship

I was 12 when the ringing in my head was dismissed by the doctor. He claimed it was just a simple headache and that I could take a Tylenol and it would all feel better. I knew this couldn't be true, no headache would make me lose concentration, so caught up in the pain that I couldn't work, that speaking was too difficult. My mother agreed, and under the fluorescent lights that clouded my vision, she pleaded with the doctor to examine me. However, it was clear he would never listen to her. So, with an upset sigh and a note to excuse me from school, my mom took me home. I remember the helplessness and the frustration at the knowledge that the doctor did not listen and I could do nothing. Back then, I naively thought that if I had simply explained it better, maybe he would have offered a better solution, but I had no choice except to go to bed and hope that it would get better. The migraines still appeared, once a week, never at the same time, until one day I couldn't take it and begged to go to another doctor. My mother agreed, and when she took me to another one, it took several times to convince them that this was a constant issue, before they finally looked a bit harder, and realized that my glasses, and their prescription, were the culprit. It was a satisfying feeling knowing I was right, but back then I didn't understand why the doctors didn't believe me. Why did they assume I was exaggerating, even when my mother insisted? It was 2 years later when I understood what was going on. My father had a similar problem, however, his migraines were caused by a chronic lack of sleep. This time, he walked into the appointment, and only 5 minutes later he was back and ready to pick up his prescription. There was no pleading, no convincing. I asked him about it, and he told me it must have been the difference in doctors. I didn't quite believe that. This was a feeling I wasn't sure how to explain. It wasn't until I went online years later, and saw the multitude of women with similar experiences, of men being treated when they were dismissed, that I recognized the issue at hand. Many women, especially in areas such as Texas, are often dismissed when they go to the hospital complaining about the pain they feel. Not only that but there is a significant gap in research on women's health. So we do not have as many resources or knowledge about what goes on in women's bodies and how that may differ from men's. This is concerning, and when I learned about this, I knew that there was an opportunity for me to make a difference. Now, I intend to go into medicine, and I plan to contribute to the research on women's health. I will be an uplifting voice, motivating women to speak up about their pain, and advocating for them to be listened to by other doctors. I will give them resources, which I have already begun to do with my own nonprofit, called Naturnity. Through Naturnity, I focus specifically on pre-natal patients, and provide resources, both educational and physical, to help them through pregnancy. As this organization grows, and as my reach in the medical field expands, we will then focus on a variety of women's issues in healthcare. Bridging that gap, and making our voices heard one patient at a time.

As I prepare to attend the University of Texas, I'm reminded of the harsh realities of gender disparity in our state. The catcalls, whistles, and degrading comments from men who think they can get away with it are a constant reminder that we still have a long way to go in achieving true equality. My personal experiences with gender disparity have been a driving force in my determination to create change. I've been belittled, mocked, and sexualized by men who thought they could assert their power over me. But one incident that still resonates with me was when a guy made fun of my appearance in front of my peers. It was a moment that could have broken me, but instead, it fueled my determination to fight back. I remember feeling helpless and violated, like I was just another victim of a society that doesn't value women. But as I looked around, I saw that I wasn't alone. I saw women who had been through similar experiences, women who had been marginalized, objectified, and silenced. And I knew that I had to do something. That's why I'm committed to studying Law Studies at UT. I want to use my education to amplify the voices of women across Texas, to create a society where we're valued and respected, not objectified and marginalized. I want to be part of a movement that challenges the status quo, that demands change, and that empowers women to speak out against gender disparity. Through volunteer work with organizations like the Texas Women's Foundation and paid internships with feminist advocacy groups, I'm able to make a difference and have a voice. When I arrive at UT, I plan to continue this work. I want to create a movement that empowers women to speak out against gender disparity. I want to create safe spaces for women to share their experiences, to support one another, and to demand change. I want to show men that their actions have consequences, that their words have power, and that we won't be silenced or sexualized anymore. In the end, it's not just about me or my experiences; it's about creating a Texas where women can thrive, free from gender-based discrimination and violence. It's about showing men that we're not objects, but agents of change. And it starts now. I envision a future where women are valued and respected, where we're not judged by our appearance or our gender. I envision a future where women can walk across campus without fear of harassment or assault. And I know that with determination, hard work, and a commitment to change, we can create that future

When I was seven, my mom knew she had to change. At the moment she was working at ACE Hardware. One day, she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I told her I wanted to be like her. Of course, she did not want to accept the fact that I wanted to be a cashier. So, she got her GED and became a medical assistant. She showed me that there are better opportunities in life, we have to work to get there. My point is, the women that I grew up around were not college graduates. That is not their fault. They did not know who to go to or where to start in the first place. My mom is one great example of what motivates me to confront gender disparity in Texas, other examples include disparity in classrooms, and in leadership. I am a minority and while attending a predominantly white institution, I have noticed that the majority of my classmates are white males. As an Information Technology (IT) student at Texas Tech, part of the path that I am on requires you to take a Data Visualization class. I mention this class because of the valuable things I learned from my outstanding Professor, Radha Appan. I learned that it is possible to succeed, have a family, and other businesses as a woman in IT. In this class it became more prominent to me that I was not only one of the few minorities in the class, I was one of six women, including my professor. It was really strange when I realized this. I mean, I was in the middle of watching someone’s presentation at the end of the semester. I think this happened because I had become so accustomed to learning in a classroom full of men over the past three years that it took me so long to notice. So, I would like to inspire other women to join IT and be passionate about technology like me. Often, I have seen many minority women become or want to become engineers because that is what people are pushing for. However, I think it is time to also push women into more computer science, software, or IT spaces. During my junior year, I was an officer for the Society of Hispanic Professionals (SHPE) at Tech. I loved this opportunity. Our chapter began to participate in SHPE-tinas; a mini-organization that supported Hispanic and Latina women in STEM. We wanted to start promoting this branch because of the lack of women in the organization and engineering. Although the officers comprised some women, I still wanted to see more representation. This is, again, why I think it is important that I encourage my future daughters, nieces, granddaughters, and even incoming freshman to not be afraid to major in IT. IT is not just fixing computers and laptops and telling people to turn things on and off. IT is comprised of data, science, software, artificial intelligence, etc. I think we must explain to people that there is more to Information Technology than they believe. This, however, also contributes to the gender disparity in STEM in general. I am proud of the progress women have made in terms of starting their STEM journeys. We need to encourage and empower other women to join us in classrooms and leadership positions. Let this be the beginning.

The relationship between my gender and my work has always been complicated. Politics is an inherently masculine field. I mean, there’s still never been a woman elected as president. I feel like I don’t need to say much more. Whether it’s going to a networking event, city hall, or the state capitol, comfort is the last thing I expect to feel. For a while, part of me assumed my feelings of unease would dissipate over time. But as I continue to progress and work different jobs in this field, the feeling of being unwelcome has stuck with me like gum in my hair or like a stain I just can’t get out. The parasitic otherness isn’t there because comfortability is impossible, however. It’s because these spaces were built for the same people they were built by. It’s the same people that have always been in charge: white men. Texas politics are virile, hierarchical, and aggressively ambitious to the point where “feminine” qualities like vulnerability and emotional intelligence are completely rejected. The constant competition and scarcity mindset that accompanies unchecked toxic masculinity leaves no space for diverse perspectives or community building. Lacking space for genuine connection makes it easier and easier to assign apathy as the natural state of being. When interpersonal support and compassion are viewed as weak, a waste of time, or unprofessional, we need to start looking in the mirror. We must realize that the performative hard shell of political professionalism is nothing but an excuse to reject what makes us beautifully human. Instead of letting the state of gender disparity in Texas keep me down, I choose to use it as motivation. That is why I work in politics. Because there is such a lack of support for women in Texas, we need as many women in Texas politics as possible. We must continue to push social norms until there is space for all of us. Our systems should be woven with all of our identities and practices, not just the ones we are used to seeing. It isn't fair and it is not easy, but that Is what I am called to do. The fight for gender equity is just one of many my generation needs to take on fearlessly. From climate change to the increasing wealth divide to homelessness, to the rise of anti-LGBTQIA+ propaganda, there is much to do. The only thing we can do is work from our hearts and use our power to take care of each other.