Theresa Lord Future Leader Scholarship

The start of my academic journey is, evidently, pretty common for immigrant families. My parents migrated from Trinidad and Tobago with my two older sisters and had me soon after. They believed that education would give the most opportunities in the future. Whether I pursued my love of art, science or literature in the end, they made sure I was going to get a good education first. There was a time where I didn't understand why it was so important and how education kept opened so many doors. I truly began to understand their point when I started doing research into sustainable textiles after going down a crochet-inspired rabbit hole. I wanted to make my own yarn that were cheap, sustainable and versatile. This led me to decide that I wanted to pursue research in sustainable materials and help encourage young people about the value of science and education. I am studying biochemistry and plan to pursue graduate level research in sustainable textiles and materials. Alongside that I also want to find ways to encourage students and youth to find and pursue their passion in STEM. I faced a lot of self-esteem issues when it came to science. I didn't believe that I was good enough to make any meaningful contribution to science, and that I was too disorganized and stupid for it. I struggled with undiagnosed ADHD and autism for most of my childhood. I did so terribly in my first year of high school I almost failed geometry, and I was always trying to catch up to someone or something. I had to constantly push myself to do better and felt like I was always falling short in comparison to everyone else. My parents encouraged me to keep trying and do the best I could for my future, so I kept on improved bit by bit. Still, I was afraid that I wasn't good enough no matter how much I improved. When I first started my research into sustainable textiles, there were a lot of times where my low self-esteem and academic struggles made me want made me want to stop. I thought that there must be someone smarter, more talented and more organized than me who could do it. However, I just couldn't stop coming back to it and kept taking chances, I decided to interview a scientist who had worked with bacterial cellulose, a potential sustainable textile material I was researching. He told me he wished he had been so ambitious at my age and that he hoped I pursued research and a PhD. That was the first time someone other than my own parents said something like that. Even though I wasn't able to see it in myself before, I realized I had already taken several small steps towards opportunities in the sustainability research. Even if I'm never the smartest, most talented or organized I can keep improving and do great things. Thats ultimately what led me to becoming a biochemistry major. It is so important to create opportunities and to have the courage to take them. My parents made sure I got the proper education to open all the doors I needed to, I just had to realize I had the keys. Even when other people seem like they're better and when I feel like I'm not enough. I am so lucky to have the right people push me forward on my journey and I hope that I can eventually encourage other students and youth to find the confidence and opportunities they need while making a difference in sustainable materials.

I remember the scorching summer day, sitting in the backseat of our car, surrounded by thick, tense air, as a group of people resorted to beer bottles as makeshift weapons, accusing a man of theft. Growing up in Haiti gave me a first-hand understanding of resilience amidst hardship. This vivid memory from my childhood encapsulates this: a chaotic scene at a Port-au-Prince gas station where accusations turned into violence, highlighting the challenges that define Haiti's struggles. As the country faced increasing challenges, my single mother made the courageous decision to move my sister and me to America, seeking a brighter future for us. Yet, this journey was more than seizing opportunities; it meant navigating a new identity, confronting obstacles, and facing resilience to carve out a successful path despite the odds. Leaving Haiti was a bittersweet experience, as our plane ascended, I couldn't help but feel a knot in my stomach, knowing that I was leaving behind everything familiar. The decision to move to America wasn't just about seeking a better life; it was about saying goodbye to the warmth of family gatherings, the rich cultural heritage, and the parts of my childhood that had shaped me. At that moment, amidst the anticipation of new beginnings, I carried feelings of hope, tinged with the fear of stepping into the unknown. Arriving in America, I faced the daunting challenge of being a young child with limited English, thrust into the fifth grade at a new school. I felt like an outsider, struggling with a new language, unfamiliar customs, and the harsh reality of bullying. The taunts and isolation from classmates stung me deeply, but they ignited a fire within me to prove myself. I vividly remember spending countless hours practicing English, immersing myself in books and TV shows, and seeking support from teachers and a few kind classmates who saw potential in me beyond my struggles. One of my most cherished memories is my elementary school graduation when my Language Arts teacher praised how quickly I adapted and excelled as an immigrant student who started with no English. Hearing one of my favorite teachers speak so highly of me, especially when I had struggled with self-doubt and daily taunts from classmates, was a moment of profound pride and realization. All the tears, hurt, lack of self-esteem, perseverance, learning, and trying to assimilate had all been worth it. Despite the moments of self-doubt and loneliness, her words echoed in my mind, reassuring me that I could overcome these obstacles because I had done it before and reminding me that I was more than others' perceptions. Reflecting on my journey, I realize that every challenge, setback, and triumph has shaped my values and aspirations. I have learned that obstacles are only as limiting as we allow them to be. My journey is not just about personal growth but about embracing challenges, learning from them, and using those lessons to create a better future—for myself and my family. As I move forward, I'll use the resilience and adaptability I've gained to tackle whatever comes my way, whether it's in school, work, or life in general. The perseverance I've built will help me push through any obstacles and aim for success in everything I do. I'm not just a product of my experiences; I'm a testament to the resilience and unity that define both my Haitian heritage and my American journey. I carry with me the lessons of the past, the dreams of the future, and a deep-rooted belief that obstacles are merely stepping stones to greatness.

A simple gold wedding ring sits on my finger, but within its presence lies a vitalizing, multifaceted narrative. The ring transports me to Ethiopia: Addis Ababa, 1999. My sweet mother smiles; her new ring shimmers as the beaming sun radiates upon her calm face. Becoming a Christian in an anti-Protestant society, she faced immense injustices as her father strived to kill her. Disowned by her family, she was left with a ring, a visa, and $500. While fleeing to the land of the free, fear gripped her mind as she pondered her circumstances: “Am I qualified to live in a new land?” Tears escaped from her eyes as she examined the dimming ring on her finger. However, as she took her first steps onto American soil, determination implanted within her heart. Though struggling to learn English, my mother became a US citizen and completed college. While raising two headstrong babies, she accomplished her dreams of becoming a nurse. She took the coal given to her and transformed it into a gleaming diamond. She had finally accomplished the American dream. Sixteen years after her transition, it is now 2014 in Aurora, Colorado. My mother sits me down inside of our brightly-lit home. My 10 year-old-eyes widened as she pulled off the wedding ring from her finger and slid it onto mine. She whispered, “This is why I came to America.” As I heard her story, my ears tingled with fascination. Gazing at my mother, I saw courage flicker beyond her brown eyes. Looking down at the stunning ring, I wondered: “Can I mirror the courageous tenacity my mother had formed?”Frightened by this confrontation, I resorted to isolation as my slight stutter and Ethiopian accent hindered my speaking abilities. Unknowingly, the seeds of curiosity germinated within my heart. As I continued to wear my ring, I allowed myself to explore my range of courage. When asked to lead worship and teach bible studies at my local church, I felt the roots of dauntlessness tug on my heart. I taught and led worship for three years and helped others experience the freedom of worship. As my mother’s bravery, endurance, and tenacity influenced my actions, I hoped to carry forward this impact into other children’s lives as I poured into service. Energized, I stepped into leadership roles within my community. I joined the Aurora Police Department’s Chief’s Youth Advisory Team, where I communicated with Chief Wilson and her team. I gained their perspective about police brutality and the efforts they take to decrease its presence. In an interview, I voiced my beliefs, reaching 6,000 people nationwide. I met with the Aurora mayor and discussed my viewpoints with the Arapahoe District Attorney. As I learned from my mother’s dependability, service, leadership, and patriotism, I allowed the roots of these qualities to sprout into a fruitful tree in me. Though the seeds of these qualities were small, they grew as I impacted my nation; I sought to give back to the nation that has given me so much. Throughout my life, I will continue to reflect upon the ring that writes my own narrative.