Standing on a stage at five years old, overwhelmed by the crowd, I found my courage the moment I looked into the eyes of my mother. Her steady presence has been the one constant in a life shaped by my father’s absence as well as the inter generational trauma she worked effortlessly to break. My mother, who lost her own mother to violence at the age of two, chose to build a life for us made in resilience rather than grief. Watching her go through 20 years of single parenthood while providing for my education has not only shaped my work ethic but lighted the fire of my passion for the science of human behavior. I am currently pursuing my education at Rowan College at Burlington County with a clear professional objective: to become a Clinical Psychologist. While many view psychology through a purely social lens, I am connected by its identity as a STEM discipline. My interest starts in the clinical application of psychological science—specifically how we can use empirical research plus diagnostic tools to treat the lasting effects of trauma as well as domestic instability. I am very intrigued by behavioral neuroscience and the way environmental stressors physically and chemically alter the brain. My goal is to master the clinical methods that have helped individuals rewire these responses as well as achieve long-term mental health. As a future Clinical Psychologist, I plan to focus my career on the following three scientific and professional objectives. First is, evidence-based intervention. I intend to specialize in trauma-informed care, utilizing scientifically validated frameworks such as Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Psychodynamic theory to help patients process complex emotional histories. Another focus wil be clinical research as well as diagnostics. I am highly interested in the "how" behind strength. I want to contribute to the field’s understanding of how certain therapeutic solutions can foster neuroplasticity, allowing the brain to heal after years of prolonged stress. Lastly is, bridging the socioeconomic gap. My mother’s hard work often disqualifies us from normal financial aid, yet the reality of self-funding an education still is a significant burden. This experience has made me passionate about making high-level clinical services accessible to "gap" families who struggle to afford specialized psychological care despite working full-time. Currently, I work as a hostess to contribute what I can toward my studies, but the financial weight of tuition, housing, and books is a growing obstacle. Receiving the Harry B. Anderson Scholarship would provide the stability I need to complete my undergraduate requirements as well as move toward the doctoral training necessary for clinical practice. The little girl on that stage learned that one steady, supportive person can change the trajectory of a life. Through the rigorous study of Clinical Psychology, I intend to combine the tools of science with the strength of my lived experience to be that source of stability for others, helping them go through their scariest, darkest, chapters with the support of modern psychological medicine.

It was a Wednesday night, and I was five years old, standing on a stage I never wanted to be on. My daycare was putting on a Where the Wild Things Are play, and as the curtain rose, I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by unfamiliar faces. My chest tightened until I saw her, my mom, giving me the biggest smile and waving with quiet reassurance. At that moment, my fear shrunk completely. I knew then that she was the one constant I could depend on. That relationship has not only shaped who I am today but has become the blueprint for how I connect with the world around me. My childhood was defined by a contrast between absence as well as presence. I grew up without having a relationship with my father; by the time I was eighteen months old, my mom had to make the difficult decision to leave for our safety. The ripple effects of that transition extended into my mom’s side of the family as well, making a period of isolation from relatives I would not meet again to this day. Despite this instability, my mother has built something steady. Her own life had been marked by tragedy. Her mother was murdered when she was only two, yet she broke the cycle of grief and emotional distance to create a home rooted in love and consistency. Watching my mother navigate 27 years of her career while single-handedly providing for my education taught me that meaningful connection is an act of resilience. This relationship has influenced the way I build connections in three distinct ways such as having empathy as a priority. Isaw how much effort my mother put into making me feel seen and supported. Despite her own heavy workload, I approach every new person with the understanding that they may be carrying invisible troubles.I don’t just listen to respond; I listen to understand. Another is creating "safe stages". Just as my mother was the person in the crowd who made me feel safe on that stage at age five, I strive to be a "constant" for others. Whether in my personal friendships or my role as a hostess, I aim to provide a sense of security and validation that allows others to feel comfortable being their authentic selves. Lastly is the power of one. My relationship with my mother proved that you don’t need an army to change the trajectory of a life; sometimes, you just need one person who refuses to give up. This has shaped my professional goal of becoming a psychologist. I want to build professional connections that offer the same transformative stability my mother offered me. Currently, as a psychology student at Rowan College at Burlington County, I am learning the clinical language for the lessons my mother taught me through action. I have always been the person friends turn to for support, finding purpose in guiding others through their darkest emotional experiences. While the financial burden of my education is growing heavier, my commitment to this path remains unshaken. This scholarship would allow me to continue pursuing a career dedicated to the art of connection. The little girl on that stage learned that having just one steady, supportive person can make all the difference. Through my future work in psychology, I hope to mirror the impact my mother had on me, building a legacy of empathy and understanding for others.

It was a Wednesday night, and I was five years old, standing on a stage I never wanted to be on. My daycare was putting on a play, and as the curtain rose, I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by unfamiliar faces. Then I saw her, my mom,giving me the biggest smile and waving with quiet reassurance. At that moment, my fear disappeared. My mother has been my one constant, and her strength is the reason I am now the first in my family to pursue a college degree. To me, being a first-generation student means honoring the sacrifices of the past while rewriting the future. My mother’s own childhood was marked by profound tragedy; her mother was murdered when she was only two, and she grew up in an environment shaped by grief and emotional distance. To add to this, my father’s absence due to safety concerns left my mother to build our lives from scratch. Despite never having the opportunity to obtain a degree herself, she broke a cycle of instability to provide me with a steady foundation. By obtaining my degree, I am not just earning a certification; I am solidifying her 27 years of hard work as well as ensuring that the cycle of survival ends with her, and the cycle of professional achievement's begins with me. I am currently pursuing a degree in Psychology at Rowan College at Burlington County. My interest with this field is deeply personal. Growing up, I watched my mother navigate the "ripple effects" of family trauma with such resilience she had to teach herself. I want to back that lived experience with clinical knowledge. I am dedicated to understanding the complexities of human behavior, emotional resilience, and the psychological impact of generational trauma. I want to master the tools necessary to help others find the same "steady ground" my mother created for me. My long-term goal is to become a licensed psychologist or psychoanalyst. I want to work with individuals—particularly those from backgrounds of instability—to help them navigate difficult emotional experiences. I have always been the person my peers turn to for support, and I find a profound sense of purpose in listening and guiding others through their challenges. Ultimately, I want to use my education to become a source of stability for others. Just as that little girl on the stage found courage because of one supportive person, I want to be that person for my future clients. This degree is my path to transforming a history of resilience into a career of service.

The challenge begins with the Islanders separated into two groups (typically by gender). Each person is given a list of "Vibe Traits," such as Most Trustworthy, Biggest Game Player, Most Likely to Have Their Head Turned, and Most Genuine. They must privately rank themselves and their partner on these scales. Part 2: The Reality Check The Islanders reunite at a giant outdoor "Mirror" (a large LED screen). One by one, couples stand before it. The Mirror first displays how they ranked themselves. Then, it reveals how their partner ranked them. Finally—and most dramatically—it reveals the results of a public fan vote for those same categories. The Twist: "The Blind Spot" If a couple’s rankings are perfectly aligned with each other, they win a romantic date. They get to choose the theme of the date, meaning what to serve, the itinerary, and the dress code. However, if there is a massive discrepancy between how an Islander sees themselves and how the public sees them (e.g., someone thinks they are "Most Loyal" while the public votes them "Biggest Game Player"), that Islander is presented with a "Blind Spot" clip. This is a 30-second video of their own behavior or conversations behind their partner’s back that contributed to the public’s perception. Why It Works As a psychology student, I know that cognitive dissonanc. This is the mental discomfort of holding two conflicting beliefs, is where the most authentic growth (and best television) happens. This challenge forces Islanders to confront the "persona" they are projecting. It tests the strength of a couple’s communication and forces them to have the difficult conversations that usually only happen after they leave the villa. It moves the game beyond surface-level attraction plus into the realm of true emotional intelligence as well as self-awareness.

It was a Wednesday night, and I was five years old, standing on a stage I never wanted to be on. My daycare was putting on a play, and as the curtain rose, I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by unfamiliar faces. My chest tightened until I saw her, my mom, waving with quiet reassurance. At that moment, my fear disappeared. I knew then that she was the one constant I could depend on. That realization has followed me throughout my life, serving as the foundation for my understanding of human connection. I grew up without a relationship with my father. By the time I was eighteen months old, my mom had made the difficult decision to leave due to circumstances that required a restraining order. Although I was too young to understand then, I would later learn that his absence was not a loss, but a protection. Despite the instability surrounding us, my mom built something different for me: something steady. Her own childhood was marked by tragedy. When she was just two years old, her mother was murdered. Raised by grandparents in an environment shaped by grief and emotional distance, she somehow broke the cycle. She created a life for us rooted in love and resilience—qualities she had to teach herself. Watching her navigate the world taught me my first lesson in empathy: our past may shape us, but our choices define how we impact others. As I grew older, I understood the weight she carried. She worked full-time, ensuring I was supported through every free workshop or community event she could find. What we lacked in financial ease, she made up for in presence. Even now, after 27 years in her career, she provides for us entirely on her own. While her income disqualifies us from traditional financial aid, it doesn't reflect our reality. She has single-handedly covered my education expenses, but as I progress, the financial burden is growing heavier. Currently, I am pursuing a degree in psychology at Rowan College at Burlington County. My goal is to become a psychologist or psychoanalyst. This choice is a direct response to the unique talents I have cultivated which include the ability to listen deeply and the capacity to hold space for others' pain. I have always been the person friends turn to for support, and I find profound purpose in guiding others through their challenges. To build a more empathetic global community, I intend to use these skills to bridge the gap between trauma and healing. Empathy is the universal language that allows us to see the humanity in those different from us. In my future practice, I want to focus on breaking generational cycles of trauma, much like my mother did. I believe a more understanding world starts with the individual; when one person learns to heal, the ripple effect touches their family, their community, and eventually, the global stage. This scholarship would allow me to continue a career dedicated to the stability of others. The little girl on that stage learned that one supportive person can make all the difference. My talent lies in my ability to be that steady person for those who feel lost. Through psychology, I will turn my personal history into a tool for global good, fostering a world where empathy is the standard.

It was a Wednesday night, and I was five years old, standing on a stage I never wanted to be on. My daycare was putting on a Where the Wild Things Are play, and as the curtain rose, I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by unfamiliar faces. My chest tightened as I searched for the one person who made everything feel safe. Then I saw her, my mom, giving me the biggest smile and waving with quiet reassurance. At that moment, my fear disappeared. I knew, even then, that she was the one constant I could depend on. That realization has followed me throughout my life. I grew up without a relationship with my father. By the time I was eighteen months old, my mom had made the difficult decision to leave due to circumstances that required a restraining order. Although I was too young to understand at the time, I would later learn that his absence was not a loss, but a protection. The ripple effects of that relationship extended into my mom’s side of the family as well, creating distance between us and relatives I would not meet again until I was six years old. Despite the instability surrounding us, my mom built something different for me, something steady. Her own childhood was marked by tragedy. When she was just two years old, her mother was murdered. Raised by her grandparents, she grew up in an environment shaped by grief, fear, and emotional distance. Yet somehow, she broke that cycle. She created a life for us rooted in love, resilience, and consistency, things she had to learn on her own. As I grew older, I began to understand the weight she carried. She worked full-time, often relying on before- and after-care programs and summer camps to ensure I was supported. Still, she never let me feel like I was missing out. Every free moment she had was spent with me, finding community events, free workshops, or small adventures that became some of my happiest memories. What we lacked in financial ease, she made up for in effort, creativity, and presence. Even now, after 27 years in her career, she continues to provide for us entirely on her own. Although her income has disqualified us from receiving financial aid, it does not reflect the full reality of our situation. She has single-handedly covered tuition, housing, books, and every other expense associated with my education. Watching her do this has shaped my understanding of hard work more than anything else could. Her strength is the reason I am here. Currently, I am enrolled at Rowan College at Burlington County after previously attending Stockton University. I am pursuing a degree in psychology with the goal of becoming a psychologist or psychoanalyst. My interest in this field comes from a genuine desire to help others navigate difficult emotional experiences. I have always been the person friends turn to for support, and I find purpose in listening, understanding, and guiding others through challenges. However, continuing my education has become increasingly uncertain. While I work as a hostess and contribute what I can, the financial burden is growing heavier. Without assistance, completing my degree may not be possible. This scholarship would not only ease that burden, it would allow me to continue pursuing a career dedicated to helping others, just as my mom has helped me. The little girl on that stage learned that having just one steady, supportive person can make all the difference. Through my future work in psychology, I hope to become that source of stability for others.

It was a Wednesday night, and I was five years old, standing on a stage I never wanted to be on. My daycare was putting on a Where the Wild Things Are play, and as the curtain rose, I scanned the crowd, overwhelmed by unfamiliar faces. My chest tightened as I searched for the one person who made everything feel safe. Then I saw her, my mom, giving me the biggest smile and waving with quiet reassurance. At that moment, my fear disappeared. I knew, even then, that she was the one constant I could depend on. That realization has followed me throughout my life. I grew up without a relationship with my father. By the time I was eighteen months old, my mom had made the difficult decision to leave due to circumstances that required a restraining order. Although I was too young to understand at the time, I would later learn that his absence was not a loss, but a protection. The ripple effects of that relationship extended into my mom’s side of the family as well, creating distance between us and relatives I would not meet again until I was six years old. Despite the instability surrounding us, my mom built something different for me, something steady. Her own childhood was marked by tragedy. When she was just two years old, her mother was murdered. Raised by her grandparents, she grew up in an environment shaped by grief, fear, and emotional distance. Yet somehow, she broke that cycle. She created a life for us rooted in love, resilience, and consistency, things she had to learn on her own. As I grew older, I began to understand the weight she carried. She worked full-time, often relying on before- and after-care programs and summer camps to ensure I was supported. Still, she never let me feel like I was missing out. Every free moment she had was spent with me, finding community events, free workshops, or small adventures that became some of my happiest memories. What we lacked in financial ease, she made up for in effort, creativity, and presence. Even now, after 27 years in her career, she continues to provide for us entirely on her own. Although her income has disqualified us from receiving financial aid, it does not reflect the full reality of our situation. She has single-handedly covered tuition, housing, books, and every other expense associated with my education. Watching her do this has shaped my understanding of hard work more than anything else could. Her strength is the reason I am here. Currently, I am enrolled at Rowan College at Burlington County after previously attending Stockton University. I am pursuing a degree in psychology with the goal of becoming a psychologist or psychoanalyst. My interest in this field comes from a genuine desire to help others navigate difficult emotional experiences. I have always been the person friends turn to for support, and I find purpose in listening, understanding, and guiding others through challenges. However, continuing my education has become increasingly uncertain. While I work as a hostess and contribute what I can, the financial burden is growing heavier. Without assistance, completing my degree may not be possible. This scholarship would not only ease that burden, it would allow me to continue pursuing a career dedicated to helping others, just as my mom has helped me. The little girl on that stage learned that having just one steady, supportive person can make all the difference. Through my future work in psychology, I hope to become that source of stability for others.

Education has always been more than just a path to a career for me; it is the bridge between the instability of my past and the purposeful, structured future I am building. Growing up in a single-parent household, I witnessed firsthand how the absence of a father and the presence of generational trauma can shape a child’s worldview. My mother, who tragically lost her own mother to violence at the tender age of two, made it her life’s mission to break the cycle of grief that had defined her own upbringing. Watching her go through the world with a blend of grit and grace, working tirelessly to fund my education while providing an emotionally rich environment, has given me a clear sense of direction. I have realized that my calling is to use my education to provide others with the same emotional stability and psychological safety she provided for me. The greatest challenge I have had to overcome is the intersection of financial strain and a complex family history. My mother’s story is one of incredible resilience; raised by her grandparents in an environment marked by emotional distance as well as the weight of loss, she had no foundation for the healthy, consistent home she eventually built for me. Because she has spent 27 years building a stable career to provide for us, her income often disqualifies us from traditional financial aid. However, this "on-paper" stability does not reflect the full reality of our situation. As she single-handedly covers tuition, housing, and life’s daily expenses, the margin for error is razor-thin. Consequently, I have had to balance the intellectual demands of a psychology major with the physical demands of working as a hostess to contribute what I can. This challenge has not deterred me; instead, it has sharpened my resolve and matured my perspective. It has taught me the true definition of "rising higher", it is not about the absence of obstacles, but the determination to climb over them. My time at Rowan College at Burlington County, and previously at Stockton University, has allowed me to channel these personal experiences into the rigorous study of psychology. In the classroom, I am not just learning theories; I am searching for the clinical foundations that explain how a child can thrive despite adverse childhood experiences (ACEs). I am learning how the brain processes trauma and how the presence of even one "stable adult"—like my mother was for me this can fundamentally alter a person’s life trajectory. I hope to use my education to create a better future by becoming a licensed psychologist or psychoanalyst. I am particularly drawn to working with children and young adults who are navigating difficult family transitions, such as the absence of a parent or the ripple effects of domestic instability. My education has given me the tools to understand that while we cannot control the circumstances of our birth, we can control the narrative we create afterward. I want to be the professional who helps a child understand that their worth is not defined by who is missing from their dinner table, but by the strength they cultivate in that space. I want to help them identify their own "asynchronous development," ensuring that their high intellectual potential is not stifled by emotional burdens they were never meant to carry alone. Furthermore, my vision for the future involves community-level advocacy. I want to use my degree to bridge the gap between clinical psychology and community support systems. Having benefited from before-care and after-care programs as a child of a working single mother, I understand how vital these "third spaces" are for a child’s development. My education will allow me to design and implement programs that prioritize social-emotional learning, ensuring that the next generation of children has access to the mental health resources they need to "dream big" without the anchor of untreated trauma holding them back. By investing in my education through this scholarship, you are supporting a future where mental health care is not just a clinical service, but a compassionate response rooted in lived experience. I do not just dream of a degree for the sake of a title; I dream of a career dedicated to service and the intentional breaking of generational cycles. Just as my mother was the one constant in my life who made me feel safe on a crowded stage as a five-year-old girl, I intend to use my psychological training to be that steady, supportive presence for my community. This scholarship will ease the financial burden on my mother, allowing me to focus entirely on my clinical training and the work that matters most: rising higher so that I may lift others up alongside me. Through my studies, my work, and my faith, I am dedicated to proving that our past may inform us, but it does not have to limit us.

Community is often defined by the people we stand beside, but for me, it has been defined by the people who stood by me when the world felt overwhelming. Growing up in a single-parent household, I learned early on that resilience is not a solitary endeavor; it is a collective effort fueled by consistency and faith. This lesson has been most clearly reinforced through my active involvement in my church, which serves as the cornerstone of my life and the primary inspiration for my desire to serve others. My commitment to my community is rooted in the rhythms of my week: Wednesday night prayer services, young adult group meetings, and Sunday morning worship. Each of these experiences has paved a unique path toward my future career in psychology. On Wednesday nights, the atmosphere of prayer service teaches me the power of collective vulnerability. In those quiet moments of shared intercession, I have witnessed how burdens become lighter when they are voiced in a supportive environment. This has instilled in me a deep desire to provide that same sense of relief and safety to others as a mental health professional. Furthermore, my participation in the young adult church group has been instrumental in shaping my understanding of peer support and mentorship. Engaging with others who are navigating the complexities of early adulthood allows us to sharpen one another, providing a space for intellectual growth and emotional grounding. This group has taught me that serving a community is not just about grand gestures; it is about being present, listening intently, and offering a steady hand during times of transition. These are the exact skills I intend to bring into my clinical practice, where I hope to guide individuals through their own difficult emotional landscapes. Sunday morning worship serves as the ultimate reminder of our shared humanity and the responsibility we have to one another. It is a time for reflection and renewal, reminding me that the strength my mother showed in raising me is a strength I am called to pour back into the world. My desire to serve the community through psychology is a direct extension of this spiritual calling. I see mental health care as a form of stewardship, caring for the minds and souls of those who are struggling to find their own footing. However, the path to fulfilling this calling is currently hindered by financial obstacles. Despite working as a hostess and my mother’s tireless efforts to fund my education at Rowan College at Burlington County, the rising costs of tuition and books have created a significant burden. Receiving the Mattie K. Peterson Higher Education Scholarship would be a transformative investment in my future. It would allow me to focus entirely on my studies, ensuring that I can graduate and become a source of stability for others. Just as my church community and my mother have provided me with a foundation of hope, I am determined to spend my career building that same foundation for the community at large.

Standing on a stage at five years old, overwhelmed by the crowd during a daycare play, I found my grounding in a single source of stability: my mother. As the curtain rose, the sea of unfamiliar faces felt like an encroaching tide, and my chest tightened with a paralyzing fear. Then I saw her, giving me the biggest smile and waving with a quiet reassurance that anchored me to the floor. Her consistent support rescued me from my anxiety that night, and it has remained the blueprint for my life ever since. Growing up in a single-parent household shaped by a complex history of family trauma and the absence of a father, I learned early on that resilience is not an innate trait one is born with; rather, it is a quality fostered through steady, empathetic support. This profound realization is what drives my career goal to become a psychologist specializing in the social-emotional well-being and intellectual development of gifted children. Gifted children are often profoundly misunderstood by the world around them. Their high intellectual aptitude can frequently mask deep-seated social anxieties, sensory overexcitabilities, and intense emotional sensitivities. Just as I felt "wild" and overwhelmed on that stage, gifted students often experience "asynchronous development," a state where their cognitive abilities far outpace their emotional maturity. This gap can lead to a sense of alienation, as they may be able to contemplate complex global issues while also struggling to regulate the frustration of a misplaced pencil. My goal is to provide the same "quiet reassurance" my mother gave me, creating a clinical space where gifted children feel safe to navigate the crushing pressures of perfectionism as well as the profound isolation that often comes with being "different." Intellectually, gifted children require much more than just an accelerated or advanced curriculum; they need an environment that validates their intense curiosity and that accommodates their complex patterns of thinking. In my future practice, I intend to meet these intellectual needs by advocating for holistic educational approaches that challenge their minds while strictly protecting their mental health. Many gifted programs focus solely on academic output, often ignoring the "twice-exceptional" student who may have a learning disability alongside their high IQ. I want to help these students channel their high potential into a sustainable sense of purpose rather than allowing it to become a primary source of chronic stress or burnout. My mother broke a multi-generational cycle of grief and instability to provide me with a life rooted in love, consistency, and hard work. However, as she has single-handedly funded my education for years without the help of financial aid, the mounting financial burden has become a significant barrier to my completion of a psychology degree. This scholarship would allow me to transition from a student who understands the weight of struggle into a professional who actively lightens the load for others. By becoming a psychoanalyst focused on the unique needs of the gifted community, I hope to be that steady, supportive presence, the person in the front row, who helps a child turn their overwhelming world into a place where they can truly, safely thrive.

Attending College will provide me with the necessary training to develop expertise in the field I am interested in. Attending college also opens my eyes to diverse perspectives and experiences that can help me address complicated or complex issues in the future. Colleges also offer opportunities such as internships, research projects, and extracurricular activities that I could join that offers volunteering jobs that will furthermore help my community. The major that I will be studying is Psychology and that can help many people in the community as well as the country. When studying this major you are able to understand how the mind works in a way. You are able to identify certain markets in one's brain and determine if they have a mental illness, brain injury, or anything else. Knowing how the brain works can help people physically and mentally. Physically by brain surgeons knowing how to identify the problem and what repairs they need to make if any, and then their is psychologist. These are the people who will fix the emotional part of you brain. Wether it's therapy or with some form of medication. Majoring in psychology will help people understand the importance and complexity of the brain and preventions we can make to help either mentally or physically. Once I am done school, I want to work with people either if it's face to face or the one behind a "screen" I just want to help people anyway I can no matter how small the part is. I also want to make it easier to identify the markets of certain mental disorders and how to either relieve the symptoms or stop them completely. I will do this by scanning and analyzing brain scans, looking into many articles of research on the progression of the disease, and many other things that can further the understanding of a human brain. I believe that main people have a mental disorder. Some could be small like adhd or OCD, but others could be worse such as schizophrenia. I want to come up with a way to explain on why we can't come up with a solution and not hear the same "The brain works in mysterious ways" This is how I plan on making my lasting effect on the community, by helping others. By caring and by listening. Many others could also join the cause and help come up with a way to help others who think they will never find a solution to their illnesses.