I was born and raised in Southeast Portland, where my family lived in a house until my dad was laid off and we lost it. We moved to an apartment in Clackamas, and that transition changed everything. I was only eight, transferring schools mid-year, and quickly went from being relatively well-off to feeling like we had nothing. I faced bullying and had a harsh teacher, but something good came out of that year. I started spending my recesses with a special needs student who had no arms or legs and no friends besides her caregiver. I didn’t do it for recognition—I just didn’t want her to feel alone. That was the first time I realized I had the heart of a nurse. Helping others has always come naturally to me. I started volunteering in the church nursery at just seven years old, alongside my mom. By 15, I was finally able to care for the babies on my own, something I’d always looked forward to. I began babysitting at 12 and continued throughout my teen years. I later became a nanny, and eventually, a lead infant teacher. Every step of the way, my love for children—especially infants—only grew. I’ve also quietly carried my own struggles. Starting at age six, I experienced panic attacks and anxiety that sometimes overwhelmed me. At one point, I couldn’t eat for three months because my anxiety was so intense. These challenges have taught me deep compassion and the importance of patience. I know what it feels like to suffer silently, and that perspective helps me be a more empathetic caregiver to others. At 21, I became a nanny for a family whose daughter had once been in my infant class. When they were expecting high-risk twins, they faced the heartbreaking possibility of terminating one to save the other. They chose not to. When the babies were born early and tiny—three and five pounds—I visited them in the NICU and held them soon after they came home. I felt completely at peace. In that moment, I knew for sure that becoming a NICU nurse was the right path for me. After working with that family for seven years, I returned to a lead infant teaching position. A few months in, I became aware of a serious safety issue: a child had left the building unnoticed. When the incident wasn’t reported and no changes were made, I knew I couldn’t stay silent. I quit my job with nothing else lined up because I refuse to work somewhere that doesn’t do the right thing. I reported the incident to CPS, informed the parents, and allowed my testimony to be used by their lawyer. I have strong integrity and believe protecting children comes before anything else. Getting into nursing school has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done—and the most rewarding. I’ve worked tirelessly and overcome so much to be here. I have a natural gift with infants, and I know I’m meant to care for them in their most fragile moments. I’m not just pursuing a career—I’m answering my calling.

My name is Alexis McKinney, and I am pursuing a career in nursing with the goal of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurse. Ever since I was 17, I’ve felt an unwavering pull toward caring for newborns—especially those born too early or too sick to thrive without medical support. At that age, though, I didn’t believe I was capable of completing the rigorous education it would take to get there. For years, I carried that dream quietly, unsure if I could ever live up to it. But today, I believe in myself. I’ve grown stronger, more confident, and more determined than ever. In May, I begin nursing school, and by next August, I plan to graduate with my Bachelor of Science in Nursing. It still feels surreal to say that out loud, but it’s finally real—and I’m ready to step into the career I was always meant for. Over the past several years, I’ve had the privilege of working closely with babies in many different roles. I’ve nannied for multiple families, including twins who were born prematurely and spent time in the NICU. These babies weighed only 3 and 5 pounds at birth and faced several complications both during pregnancy and after delivery. Caring for them was an incredibly eye-opening experience—it deepened my passion for neonatal care and allowed me to see firsthand the strength and vulnerability of these tiny patients and their families. Watching them grow stronger, day by day, affirmed for me that I want to be part of the team that helps make that possible for others. In addition to nannying, I’ve worked professionally as a lead infant teacher—twice—and every experience only confirmed what I already knew: I have a natural connection with babies. They respond to me with trust and comfort, and I care for them with patience, attention, and deep affection. I’ve always believed that babies are my calling. I’m amazing with them—not because I’ve had to be, but because it’s who I am. Helping them thrive is what gives me purpose, and I know that working in the NICU is where I’m meant to be. What draws me most to this field is the powerful mix of medical skill and emotional presence it requires. NICU nurses are not only responsible for life-saving care, but also for guiding families through some of the most difficult and delicate moments of their lives. I want to be that nurse—the one who shows up in those moments with steady hands, a calm voice, and a heart full of empathy. I’m also passionate about working in hospitals that are underserved or facing staffing shortages. I believe nurses are especially needed in those spaces, and I want to be someone who brings not only skill, but also compassion and consistency to patients and families who need it most. This scholarship would help ease the financial challenges of nursing school, allowing me to dedicate myself fully to my studies and clinical work. More than anything, it would be an investment in someone who is wholly committed to the care of our most vulnerable patients. Thank you for considering my application and for supporting my journey to becoming the NICU nurse I know I was meant to be.

My life changed forever when I was six years old. That was when I experienced my first panic attack—an overwhelming wave of fear and confusion that I couldn’t begin to understand. In the months that followed, I stopped eating almost entirely, consumed by an intense fear of choking. What was once a simple, joyful part of childhood—sharing meals with family, going to school, feeling safe—became sources of anxiety. I had developed an anxiety disorder and depression at an age when most children are still learning how to tie their shoes. I didn't have the words to explain what I was feeling, but I knew my world had shifted. Living with anxiety and depression hasn’t been a chapter in my story—it has been a constant companion. I’ve learned how to move forward despite it, how to function through panic attacks, and how to recognize the subtle signs of mental health struggles in myself and in others. It's not something I "got over," but something I’ve learned to manage. These experiences have shaped the person I am today: resilient, empathetic, and deeply committed to helping others who feel unseen or overwhelmed by the weight of their own minds. As a nanny for the past several years, I’ve often cared for children struggling with anxiety and emotional regulation. My personal experience has allowed me to support them in ways that go beyond basic caregiving. I’ve taught breathing exercises to an anxious child who was afraid to go to school. I’ve sat with children through tears and fear, helping them name their emotions and feel safe enough to express them. I’ve been able to say, “I understand,” and mean it. And that makes all the difference. My journey has also allowed me to be a supportive friend, sister, and daughter to others who have dealt with anxiety, depression, and even suicidal ideation. Mental health issues often feel isolating, especially when they start young. I know what it’s like to feel misunderstood or dismissed. That’s why I make it a point to create safe, judgment-free spaces for the people around me—spaces I once desperately needed myself. These experiences have not only shaped who I am—they’ve deeply influenced the kind of nurse I want to become. I am currently working toward my goal of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurse, and I know the empathy and emotional strength I’ve developed through my mental health journey will be some of my greatest assets. Supporting families through their most fragile moments, staying calm in high-stress situations, and recognizing when someone is silently struggling—these are skills that come from lived experience. This scholarship would allow me to continue my education without being weighed down by financial stress, giving me the freedom to focus more fully on my studies and clinical work. More importantly, it would support someone who has turned her own pain into purpose—who knows what it’s like to feel broken, and who is committed to helping others heal. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and even prouder of the person I’m becoming because of what I’ve faced. Anxiety and depression may be part of my story, but they do not define me. What defines me is the strength I’ve built through them—and the compassion I now carry into everything I do.

Being the first in my family to obtain a college degree means everything to me. It represents perseverance, sacrifice, and the hope for a better future—not just for myself, but for the generations that come after me. My parents didn’t have the opportunity to pursue higher education. They worked hard to provide for our family, often putting their own dreams on hold so that I could have the chance to chase mine. Earning a college degree is my way of honoring their sacrifices and showing that their efforts were not in vain. As a first-generation college student, I’ve had to navigate the world of higher education on my own. From financial aid applications to academic planning, I’ve learned to ask questions, seek out resources, and advocate for myself. There were moments when I felt overwhelmed and uncertain, but each challenge made me stronger and more determined. Walking across the stage to receive my associate’s degree in Healthcare Professions was one of the proudest moments of my life—not just because of the degree itself, but because of what it represented: growth, resilience, and the start of a meaningful journey. In college, I am pursuing a degree in nursing with the goal of becoming a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurse. This path is deeply personal to me. I was born prematurely and spent time in the NICU myself. My mother’s pregnancy was high-risk, and she faced numerous complications. Despite the challenges, I survived—thanks to the dedicated healthcare professionals who cared for me during those early, fragile days. I grew up hearing stories of that time and developed a deep admiration for the nurses who helped my family through such a vulnerable period. That admiration evolved into a calling. Over the years, I’ve worked extensively with infants and children, serving as a Lead Infant Teacher and a nanny, often caring for medically fragile or developmentally delayed babies. These experiences have given me a unique understanding of the physical, emotional, and developmental needs of young children—especially those born prematurely. I’ve learned how to stay calm in emergencies, recognize signs of illness, and provide both practical and emotional support to families. Every moment I’ve spent in these roles has strengthened my commitment to pursuing a career in neonatal nursing. My long-term goal is to become a skilled and compassionate NICU nurse who not only provides critical care to infants but also serves as a source of support for their families. I want to continue my education beyond a bachelor’s degree, possibly earning a master’s or even becoming a nurse practitioner specializing in neonatal care. Ultimately, I hope to give back to the same kind of community that helped me survive at the beginning of my life. I want to be the calm voice in the storm, the steady hands in a crisis, and the compassionate presence that reminds families they are not alone. Being the first in my family to pursue this path fills me with pride and purpose. My journey has not been easy, but it has been meaningful—and it’s far from over. With continued education, dedication, and heart, I plan to turn my personal story into a lifelong mission of care, empathy, and impact.

Empathy has shaped every part of my life—from the moment I was born prematurely and cared for in the NICU, to my current journey toward becoming a NICU nurse. These early experiences taught me that even the smallest acts of compassion can make a powerful impact. As someone who entered the world fighting for life, I understand what it means to be vulnerable—and I’ve seen how empathy, paired with knowledge, can create healing. I plan to use my personal journey, professional skills, and dedication to caregiving to build a more empathetic and understanding global community. My unique talent lies in my ability to connect deeply with others, especially during times of stress and uncertainty. Years of working with infants and families—as a Lead Infant Teacher, nanny, and caregiver—have sharpened my ability to read emotions, respond with patience, and remain calm in high-pressure situations. I’ve worked with healthy children, children with developmental delays, and premature infants needing extra care and attention. In each situation, I focused not only on meeting physical needs, but also on offering emotional support to both the children and their families. I’ve learned that sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is simply be present with someone in their most difficult moment. My journey into healthcare has been shaped by a deep understanding of what families go through when a child is in medical crisis. One experience that especially strengthened this awareness was working as a nanny for a toddler and her premature twin sisters. I supported the family before, during, and after a high-risk pregnancy—helping care for the twins when they came home from the NICU, each weighing less than five pounds. I saw the fear, the exhaustion, and the incredible strength it takes to care for medically fragile infants. That experience confirmed for me that becoming a NICU nurse wasn’t just a goal—it was a calling. As a first-generation college student, I’ve faced and overcome many barriers. I’ve had to figure out how to navigate college on my own, advocate for myself, and stay motivated through setbacks. Originally, I pursued a degree in early childhood education, but after gaining hands-on experience and reflecting on my passions, I changed my major and earned an associate’s degree in Healthcare Professions. This shift wasn’t easy, but it was right. It brought me one step closer to a career that will allow me to serve others with empathy and expertise. Ultimately, I hope to build a more understanding and compassionate world through my work in healthcare—one family, one infant, and one moment at a time. My dream is to not only care for vulnerable infants, but to provide hope and strength to families who feel overwhelmed or alone. By bringing both my lived experiences and professional training into the NICU, I believe I can create a ripple effect of empathy that extends beyond hospital walls and into the broader community.

Surviving multiple near-death experiences before I was even born has shaped my life in profound ways. As a premature baby born at 35 weeks via cesarean section, my earliest days were spent in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). My mother’s pregnancy was high-risk, complicated by placenta previa, endometriosis, and a history of multiple miscarriages. Despite these challenges, I survived—and my parents often remind me that it was the care, dedication, and expertise of the NICU nurses that gave me a fighting chance. Growing up hearing these stories gave me a deep appreciation for healthcare professionals and sparked a dream: to one day become a NICU nurse myself. As a first-generation college student, higher education is not just a personal goal—it’s a legacy I’m working hard to build. No one in my family had the opportunity to pursue college, so I had to learn how to navigate the academic system on my own, from applying for financial aid to choosing the right courses. I have been in college for several years now, originally starting in early childhood education. Working with babies has always been a passion of mine, so that felt like a natural first step. However, over time, my experiences pulled me closer to healthcare. I ultimately changed my major and proudly graduated with an associate’s degree in Healthcare Professions. Throughout my adult life, I’ve dedicated myself to working with babies and young children. As a Lead Infant Teacher in two daycares, I learned to care for multiple infants at once, while also becoming deeply interested in their cognitive, emotional, and physical development. I studied infant health and development in my own time and became certified in CPR and first aid, skills I used regularly to keep children safe and healthy. One of the most transformative roles I held was as a nanny for a toddler and her premature twin sisters. I began the job before the twins were born, during what quickly became another high-risk pregnancy. One twin was significantly smaller and receiving less blood flow, and doctors were uncertain if she would survive. Thankfully, both babies were born prematurely but alive and spent time in the NICU. Caring for them when they came home—at just 3 and 5 pounds—was a full-circle moment for me. It was in those quiet, careful moments of caring for them that I knew nursing, specifically NICU nursing, wasn’t just a dream—it was my calling. Pursuing higher education is how I am turning this calling into reality. It has not been an easy road, especially navigating college without the guidance of family members who’ve been through it. But every challenge has made me more determined. I’ve worked hard, leaned on mentors, and kept my purpose front and center: to give other families the kind of care and hope my own received in our darkest moments. This scholarship would bring me closer to achieving my goal of becoming a NICU nurse. It would not only help me financially, but also validate the journey of a first-generation student who’s determined to give back to her community through compassion, care, and expertise.

My greatest achievement in life isn’t something you can hang on a wall or put in a trophy case. It’s the eight years I spent working as a nanny for a family who became my second family—raising their four children and growing alongside them. I started working with them when I was 22. At the time, I was a lead infant teacher at a daycare center, and I had been caring for their daughter, Emma, since she was just three months old. We clicked instantly. Before Emma even turned one, her parents, Anna and John, found out they were expecting twins. Around the same time, I decided to leave the daycare and posted on Facebook that I was looking for a nanny job. They reached out right away, and I was hired shortly after. The fact that I already had experience caring for multiple infants was a big plus. Anna’s pregnancy was high risk. One of the twins was receiving most of the blood supply and growing faster, while the other was smaller and had a hole in her heart. Doctors gave them the unthinkable option of aborting one baby to save the other—but Anna and John chose to fight for both. When Hailey and Madison were born prematurely, at just 3 and 5 pounds, I was ready. Caring for those two tiny newborns, helping them thrive and supporting their family through such an emotional time, confirmed what I already knew deep down: my heart belongs in helping babies. That was the moment I knew I wanted to become a NICU nurse. As the girls grew, so did my bond with the family. I was there every day—through milestones, sick days, and birthday parties. Then, a few years later, they had a fourth child, a sweet little boy named Kevin. I had the joy of helping raise him from infancy too. During COVID, our bond became even stronger. We became a bubble, only seeing each other. I homeschooled the kids, created lesson plans, and did my best to give them consistency and fun during a time full of fear and uncertainty. I stayed with the family until all four children were in school. We celebrated holidays together, traveled together, and built a relationship that still continues. I still babysit for them from time to time. They look up to me, and honestly, I look up to them. Watching them grow into smart, kind, funny little people has been the most rewarding experience of my life. Being their nanny showed me what kind of mother I want to be. It taught me what I’m capable of and gave me the drive to do more. That’s why I applied to nursing school—to give the same care and compassion to more families, especially those with premature or medically fragile babies. Getting into nursing school wasn’t easy. I had an advisor tell me that my grades weren’t strong enough, and that I probably wouldn’t be accepted. That moment crushed me—but it also lit a fire. I worked harder than I ever had before. I studied, I pushed myself, and I refused to give up. Being accepted into a nursing program is something I’m incredibly proud of. Now, I’m chasing my dream of becoming a NICU nurse. I want to be the calm, caring presence for babies and families who are facing scary, overwhelming times. I want to be a source of love and hope, just like I was for Anna, John, Emma, Hailey, Madison, and Kevin. I want to help others believe in their own strength, and remind them that the smallest people can make the biggest impact. Helping raise those four amazing kids will always be the best thing I’ve ever done. But becoming a nurse and continuing to make a difference—that’s the next chapter. I’m ready for it. And with this scholarship, I’ll be one step closer to making that dream come true.

As a first-generation, low-income student, my educational journey has been shaped by determination, resilience, and personal growth. I’ve learned that achieving my goals in higher education isn’t a straight path—it’s filled with obstacles that require perseverance and adaptability. Although progress has sometimes been slow, my experiences have made me stronger, more focused, and deeply committed to my future. When I first began my college journey, my parents believed they could help with tuition. Unfortunately, the reality of rising education costs quickly changed that, and I had to take on the financial responsibility myself. I worked multiple jobs to pay for school, often balancing long hours with coursework. It wasn’t easy, but I developed a strong sense of independence and resilience that has carried me through every challenge. Initially, I pursued early childhood education because of my love for working with infants—a passion sparked by volunteering in my church’s daycare. I later worked in daycare centers and served as a nanny for several families. While these experiences deepened my love for infant care, I came to realize that the financial limitations of the field made it unsustainable for me in the long term. That realization led me to reevaluate my goals and ultimately discover a new passion: nursing. Determined to pivot, I began taking nursing prerequisites while continuing to work and self-fund my education. I eventually earned an associate’s degree in healthcare professions—a milestone I’m extremely proud of. Though I paid for most of my education out of pocket, I did rely on some student loans to help bridge the gap. Now, I’ve been accepted into a private nursing program, which brings me one step closer to my goal of becoming a NICU nurse. However, this next phase presents a greater financial challenge. Tuition at a private institution is high, and the cost of textbooks—ranging from $600 to $1,000 per term—adds a significant burden. These expenses make it difficult to focus fully on my studies and increase the stress of an already demanding program. Despite these challenges, my motivation remains unwavering. My goal is to become a NICU nurse and provide critical care to newborns and premature infants. My years of experience working with babies have equipped me with the compassion, patience, and attention to detail required in neonatal care. I believe my background has uniquely prepared me for this role, and I am excited to turn my passion into a meaningful career in healthcare. For me, attending college isn’t just about earning a degree—it’s about creating a better future for myself and my family. As a first-generation student, I see education as the key to breaking the cycle of financial hardship and opening doors to opportunities that once felt out of reach. With the right support, I am confident that I can overcome the financial barriers ahead and make a lasting difference in the lives of the families I will serve as a nurse.

From a young age, I have been deeply passionate about caring for others—whether it's helping babies, advocating for animal welfare, or ensuring the safety and well-being of children. These values have led me to pursue a STEM-related field of study, where I can blend my scientific interests with my passion for helping those in need. In particular, I am driven to become a nurse, specifically working with preemies in the NICU. I am committed to making a difference in the lives of newborns who are fighting for their lives, as well as offering critical support and comfort to their families during an incredibly emotional time. Throughout my life, I have also been deeply involved in community service, particularly in advocating for causes that directly impact people and animals. I am passionate about supporting no-kill animal shelters and promoting the importance of adoption over shopping for pets. There are so many mixed-breed animals in shelters who deserve loving homes, and I believe in the power of responsible pet ownership and making a difference for these animals. Additionally, I have volunteered at shelters and worked to raise awareness about the importance of adoption. Another issue close to my heart is affordable healthcare. I’ve personally experienced the struggles that come with high medical costs, especially when I was off my parents’ insurance at the age of 26. I had to pay over $400 a month for a steroid inhaler that I relied on daily just to breathe. The idea that anyone should have to pay such an exorbitant amount for something as essential as a prescription is unjust. This experience fuels my belief in the need for accessible, affordable healthcare for everyone, regardless of their circumstances. Furthermore, I am passionate about ensuring that children are always in safe environments. I believe that every child deserves to be protected, and that advocacy for children’s safety is crucial. I’ve seen firsthand the importance of being a responsible, mandatory reporter. I once worked at a daycare where a child—just a year and a half old—wandered out of her classroom because she was left unsupervised. She made her way down the hall, through the kitchen, and outside to an unfinished area in front of the school, where she could’ve been seriously harmed. When no one reported the incident or took action, I knew I had to speak up. I reported the situation to CPS, contacted the child’s parents, and eventually quit my job. This experience reinforced my commitment to integrity, responsibility, and being a voice for those who cannot advocate for themselves. These experiences—whether it’s helping a preemie survive in the NICU, speaking out for children’s safety, or advocating for affordable healthcare and animal welfare—are all deeply connected to my career goals in healthcare. I want to pursue a career where I can make a lasting impact on my community, not just as a nurse, but also as a strong advocate for those who need support. Through my work in the NICU, I can provide critical care to vulnerable infants and their families. Through my advocacy, I will continue to raise awareness about issues like affordable healthcare, children’s safety, and animal welfare. By pursuing a STEM-related field of study, I am not only investing in my future career as a nurse but also in a lifetime of community service. I am excited to use my education and experiences to make a meaningful impact and work toward a world where all people, animals, and children are safe, cared for, and supported.

I started experiencing anxiety at just six years old. I had panic attacks so intense and frequent that I stopped eating for almost two months. At an age when most kids are focused on playing and learning, I was overwhelmed by feelings I didn’t understand. As I got older, the anxiety didn’t go away—it grew with me. In high school, I struggled deeply with social anxiety. Even going to school felt like an uphill battle. I often felt isolated and emotionally exhausted, and it became difficult to focus on my studies or connect with others. Living with anxiety has shaped who I am today. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s given me a unique understanding of what it feels like to face invisible battles every day. There were times I doubted myself, wondered if I’d ever feel “normal,” or be able to achieve the goals I had for my future. But through it all, I’ve developed a quiet strength, one that pushes me forward even when things feel overwhelming. This journey has also given me a deep passion for helping others who are going through similar challenges. I’ve had the opportunity to be there for kids who have experienced panic attacks or struggled with OCD, just like I did. Whether it’s sitting with them during a difficult moment, talking them through their fear, or simply letting them know they’re not alone, I’ve found so much meaning in being able to support others. I know how scary it feels, and I want to be the kind of person who can bring comfort when it matters most. That same desire to help is why I want to become a nurse—specifically, a NICU nurse. I’ve always had a passion for working with babies and children, as well as supporting their families. The NICU is a place where every moment counts, and where compassion, patience, and understanding are just as important as medical skill. I want to be someone who helps newborns fight their earliest battles, while also providing reassurance and care to parents during what can be the most stressful and emotional time of their lives. Pursuing my bachelor’s degree is the next step in turning this dream into reality. It’s not just about earning a diploma—it’s about building a future where I can use my experiences, strengths, and compassion to make a difference in people’s lives. It’s also about proving to myself that I can do this, despite the challenges I’ve faced with anxiety. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than just financial assistance—it would be a symbol of how far I’ve come. It would help ease the financial burden that often triggers anxiety and allow me to stay focused on my education and goals. Most importantly, it would be a reminder that I am not defined by my struggles, but by my resilience and my desire to help others. Thank you for considering my application. I’m excited to continue this journey toward becoming a nurse, and I’m committed to using everything I’ve learned—both in and outside the classroom—to care for others with empathy, strength, and heart

From the moment I discovered what a NICU nurse does, I knew it was the path I was meant to follow. These nurses care for some of the most medically vulnerable patients in the world—premature and critically ill newborns, many of whom will live with long-term health challenges and special needs. To me, there is no greater calling than to stand by these babies and their families, offering not only medical care but also compassion, strength, and hope during their most fragile moments. Working in the NICU is more than a job—it’s a commitment to serving those who cannot speak for themselves. Many of the infants in NICUs face developmental delays, respiratory complications, neurological conditions, and lifelong disabilities. Supporting them is about more than helping them survive; it’s about giving them the best possible start in life, despite the odds. I want to be part of that fight—to provide excellent care and to be an advocate for their needs both in and out of the hospital. My passion for helping those with special needs goes beyond infants. I’ve volunteered with organizations that support children and families facing medical, emotional, or financial hardships. Through these experiences, I’ve learned the importance of patience, communication, and showing up consistently for others. One particularly eye-opening experience was working at a daycare, where I witnessed a serious safety issue involving a toddler. When it was ignored by staff, I took action to report the incident and protect the child. That moment reminded me that advocacy isn't optional—it’s essential. Volunteering has also taught me that families of children with special needs often face overwhelming challenges. Whether it’s navigating healthcare systems, finding the right therapies, or affording treatment, they need support from professionals who understand and care. As a future NICU nurse, I want to be someone who not only provides medical care, but also empowers parents with resources, information, and emotional support. Yes, I do have financial need. The journey to becoming a nurse is costly, and balancing work, school, and clinical hours makes it difficult to afford tuition and living expenses. Any financial assistance I receive would help lighten that burden and allow me to focus fully on preparing for a career that will make a lasting impact on the lives of children with special needs. I believe that every life, no matter how small or how complex, is valuable. As a NICU nurse, I will dedicate my life to making sure those lives are protected, supported, and given every chance to thrive.

Living with invisible disabilities has shaped nearly every part of my life—from how I see the world to how I treat others, and ultimately, to why I chose nursing as my career path. My experiences with chronic asthma and lifelong anxiety have made things more difficult for me than many people realize, but they’ve also given me deep empathy, resilience, and a passion for advocating for those who are often overlooked. Since I was six years old, I’ve suffered from debilitating panic attacks and anxiety. For much of my life, I didn’t have the language to explain what I was feeling—I just knew I often felt like the world was too loud, too fast, and too overwhelming. Anxiety has affected my confidence, caused social anxiety, and made everyday situations like school, work, and even friendships more challenging. But over time, it’s also made me softer with others. I understand that everyone is fighting battles we cannot see. Because of that, I try to meet people with kindness, patience, and compassion—especially those who seem to be struggling the most. In addition to anxiety, I have chronic asthma, which became even more complicated when I aged out of my parents’ insurance. Suddenly, I was faced with paying over $400 a month for a single steroid inhaler—something I need just to breathe. That experience opened my eyes to the brutal reality of our healthcare system. No one should have to choose between buying groceries or being able to breathe. Healthcare is not a luxury. It is a basic human right. That belief is what fuels my passion for advocating for affordable and accessible healthcare. It’s also a major reason why I want to become a nurse. Balancing school, part-time jobs, and managing my health has never been easy. Dealing with chronic physical and mental health conditions while trying to achieve academic success takes a toll. The pressure was especially intense while applying to nursing school, a process filled with competition, high stakes, and stress. There were many moments when I doubted if I would be able to keep going, but I kept pushing forward. And now, I’m proud to say that I’ve been accepted into nursing school. The next chapter will come with even more stress and challenges, but I’m ready. I know what it’s like to feel helpless, to need someone to care, and to feel like the odds are stacked against you. I want to be the nurse who listens, who advocates, and who sees the whole person—not just their condition. In terms of leadership, I may not be the loudest in the room, but I lead through action and integrity. When I worked at a daycare and witnessed a child escape unsupervised, I reported the incident, informed the parents, and quit my job—because doing the right thing matters, especially when others can’t speak up for themselves. Living with disability has not made my life easier. But it has made me who I am—resilient, compassionate, and determined to make a difference. And as I begin nursing school, I carry those lessons with me every step of the way

There are many issues, both global and local, that I care deeply about, but they all connect through a common purpose: protecting and caring for the most vulnerable. Whether it is a newborn baby in the NICU, a homeless animal, or someone struggling to afford basic healthcare, I believe every life matters and deserves compassion, dignity, and a fighting chance. One cause I am especially passionate about is the March of Dimes. I want to become a NICU nurse, and this organization aligns perfectly with my belief that every baby deserves a chance to survive and thrive. Babies are the future, and I believe that their lives are incredibly valuable, no matter how small or how early they enter the world. I want to be on the frontlines helping premature and medically fragile infants fight for their lives, and I hope to support organizations like the March of Dimes throughout my career. I am also deeply committed to the welfare of animals. I believe in the mission of no-kill animal shelters and the "adopt, don’t shop" movement. It is heartbreaking to see animals in shelters waiting for someone to love them while people continue to purchase purebred pets. Every animal is important, and adoption is a compassionate and responsible choice that can save lives. I hope to use my platform as a healthcare professional to support and raise awareness for animal rescue efforts. Another issue I feel strongly about is healthcare access. As someone who has asthma, I experienced firsthand how difficult it can be to afford the care you need. After I turned 26 and lost coverage under my parents' insurance, I had to pay over $400 a month for a steroid inhaler. No one should have to choose between their health and their ability to pay rent or buy groceries. Healthcare should be a right, not a privilege, and I will always advocate for more affordable, accessible healthcare for everyone. Finally, child safety is something I will never stay silent about. While working at a daycare, I witnessed a terrifying incident where a toddler wandered out of the building and into a dangerous area unsupervised. The center failed to report it or take action, so I quit, reported the incident to CPS, and informed the parents. Children rely on us to protect them, and I believe in putting their safety above all else. Through my education and future work in nursing, I will continue to fight for what I believe in. I will use my voice, skills, and compassion to create a better, safer, and more just world for those who need someone to stand up for them

I have always known that I wanted to continue my educational journey through college. What I would study, however, wasn’t always clear. Looking back, there were defining moments in my life that gently guided me toward nursing as my calling. In elementary school, I was voted “Most Likely to Get a Job Helping Others.” I believe this stemmed from how I treated a student with special needs who was often left out. While some kids were unsure how to interact with her—she had been born without arms or legs—I saw someone who simply needed a friend. I played with her at recess, pushed her on the swings, and sat with her at lunch. I didn’t see her disability—I saw her heart. Later, in high school, I discovered a deep, God-given passion for caring for babies. I volunteered in the nursery at church and worked as a nanny during my senior year. These experiences brought me so much joy and confirmed that caregiving was a natural fit for me. However, my own battles with anxiety and depression affected my academic performance. My grades suffered, and I doubted whether I could realistically pursue a career in nursing. After graduation, I met with a college advisor to ask if I could take prerequisites for a nursing program. His response devastated me. He basically told me that I wasn’t smart enough and that there was no way I’d succeed. I drove home in tears, feeling like my dream had been crushed. What that advisor didn’t know is that his doubt became my motivation. I used his words as fuel. I studied harder than ever before, spent countless hours in tutoring, sacrificed my social life, and applied to multiple schools. And this year—I got in. I was accepted into nursing school. This journey has taught me more about myself than I ever imagined. I’ve learned that no one else can define my potential, and I will never again allow someone to tell me what I can or cannot do. Failures and challenges don’t define us—they shape us. Being told I wasn’t capable became the moment that transformed me. It sparked a chain reaction of resilience, growth, and determination. And now, as I prepare to become a nurse, I carry those lessons with me. I want to be the person who believes in others, especially when they’re struggling to believe in themselves—just like I once was.

For much of my life, mental health was not just a topic—it was my reality. Having lived with anxiety and panic disorder since childhood, I’ve developed a deep understanding of what it means to feel overwhelmed, isolated, and unseen. This lived experience has shaped how I support others, both personally and professionally. As a nanny, I’ve worked with children who exhibit signs of anxiety, OCD, or emotional dysregulation. Because I understand the fear and confusion they feel, I’ve been able to respond with empathy, patience, and reassurance. I’ve used age-appropriate conversations to normalize their emotions and help them build self-soothing strategies. My goal in these moments is always to make them feel safe, heard, and less alone. I’ve also supported friends and family members through their own mental health challenges. When my mom began experiencing panic attacks, I was able to talk her through them, remind her to breathe, and be the calm presence she once was for me. Whether it's offering a listening ear, sharing coping techniques, or encouraging others to seek professional help, I do my best to meet people where they are—with compassion and without judgment. These experiences have inspired my career goal of becoming a trauma-informed nurse. I want to provide not just physical care, but emotional support to patients—especially those struggling with mental health. I know how terrifying it can be to sit in a hospital bed, feeling both pain and emotional distress, and I want to be the person who truly sees the whole patient. Through my nursing studies, I plan to focus on mental health, crisis care, and patient communication. I aim to work in environments where mental and physical health intersect—whether that’s in emergency rooms, psychiatric units, or community clinics. Eventually, I hope to help create safer, more compassionate spaces within healthcare for those battling invisible illnesses. Mental health challenges have taught me that healing is not just clinical—it’s human. If I can use my story and my skills to comfort, connect, and advocate for others, then I’ll be fulfilling the purpose my experiences have given me: to turn pain into empathy, and empathy into action.

I was just a child—barely old enough to tie my own shoes—when I first met fear in its most paralyzing form. We were driving home from a family camping trip, and I was in the back seat with a Happy Meal in my lap. Without warning, a crushing wave of panic took over. My chest tightened. My throat felt like it was closing. I thought I was dying. That moment marked the beginning of a long journey I never expected to take—one that began with a six-year-old’s first panic attack and would evolve into years of learning how to live with anxiety and depression. While most kids my age were worried about recess or which cartoon to watch after school, I was consumed with fear—fear of eating, fear of choking, fear of feeling that same terror again. For months, I barely touched food, believing that starvation might prevent another attack. But it didn’t. And with every episode came more confusion, isolation, and despair. Eventually, I was diagnosed with panic disorder and anxiety. I was placed on medication, but more than that, I was handed a label I didn’t yet understand: mentally ill. For years, I saw my diagnosis as a weakness—something that made me less capable, less normal. But over time, and with the help of support systems, therapy, and self-reflection, I began to rewrite that narrative. I stopped seeing myself as broken and started recognizing the quiet strength it took to survive each day. That strength has shaped my values, my relationships, and my vision for the future. Today, I am deeply passionate about becoming a nurse—not just any nurse, but one who is trauma-informed, empathetic, and attuned to the emotional as well as physical needs of patients. I want to be the kind of caregiver who doesn’t just check vitals, but also sits beside someone and says, “I see you. I understand. You’re not alone.” Because I’ve been on the other side—scared, unseen, and desperately needing someone to care. My experience with mental health has also transformed the way I relate to others. For a long time, I struggled to put my feelings into words, even around those closest to me. But healing has taught me how to open up, how to build relationships based on trust, empathy, and shared vulnerability. That growth came full circle when my mother began experiencing panic attacks of her own years later. I held her through them, just as she had held me, and I reminded her of the same truth she once told me: “You’re going to be okay.” Whether through childcare jobs, friendships, or community involvement, I’ve found purpose in supporting others who are navigating their own mental health challenges. Children I’ve cared for who show signs of anxiety or OCD often feel comforted when I share that they’re not alone in those feelings. Just knowing someone understands can make a world of difference. Mental illness is not my identity, but it is part of my story. It’s the foundation of my resilience and the reason I believe so deeply in compassion. It’s what taught me to notice the quiet pain in others, to move through the world with patience and kindness, and to keep going even when everything feels impossible. This scholarship would allow me to continue my journey—from a scared little girl in the back of a van to a nurse who brings hope and healing to others. It would help me turn my pain into purpose, and ensure that my past serves as a beacon for someone else’s future. If I can make even one person feel seen, safe, and supported, then everything I’ve gone through will have meaning.

Living with a chronic illness has shaped how I see the world in deep and lasting ways. As someone who has suffered from asthma since childhood, I’ve experienced both the visible and invisible struggles of being part of the disabled community. What began as a manageable condition grew more severe in my early twenties, forcing me to face the reality of a body that doesn’t always cooperate with my plans. I now take high-dose steroid inhalers twice a day just to function. During wildfire seasons, my condition often worsens to the point where I need to take oral steroids like prednisone and stay in bed—completely exhausted and unable to breathe easily. I've even had panic attacks brought on by the fear of suffocating. These experiences have not only challenged me physically but have also deeply impacted how I view others, how I approach my goals, and the kind of nurse I hope to become. Being part of the disabled community has taught me empathy in a way that no textbook ever could. I know what it’s like to feel vulnerable, to be limited by something you can’t control, and to have your needs misunderstood or minimized. I also know the importance of support systems—medical, emotional, and social—and how crucial it is to feel heard and cared for. These lessons have shaped how I interact with the world. I’m more patient, more aware of invisible struggles, and more committed to building a future where people feel supported, no matter their physical or emotional challenges. My experiences with asthma, especially during flare-ups, have given me a unique perspective that I believe will make me a better nurse. I understand what it means to be on the other side of the healthcare system—not just as a patient, but as someone whose daily life is impacted by a chronic illness. I know how powerful compassion and communication can be in medical settings, and I want to be the kind of nurse who sees the whole person, not just the diagnosis. This perspective is especially important to me as I pursue a career in neonatal or pediatric nursing. Many of the babies and children I hope to care for will face serious health challenges of their own—some temporary, some lifelong. I want to be a source of comfort and stability for both them and their families. I want to advocate for their needs with the same urgency I advocate for my own health, and I want to be a voice of understanding in moments of fear. Asthma has also made me more determined. I’ve learned to navigate school, work, and caregiving while managing my condition, which has made me incredibly resilient. Even on days when my body slows me down, I don’t give up. I’ve pushed through limitations with creativity and perseverance, and I plan to bring that same strength into my future as a healthcare professional. Being part of the disabled community has opened my eyes and strengthened my heart. It has deepened my compassion and sharpened my focus. With this scholarship, I will be one step closer to using these experiences to positively impact the lives of others—especially those who are vulnerable, often unseen, and in need of the kind of care I’ve both given and received.

From a young age, I’ve known that my life’s purpose is to help others—especially babies, children, and their families. This passion has only deepened over time through a combination of personal experiences, professional roles, and community service. While my journey began as a premature baby myself—born at 35 weeks after my mother’s high-risk pregnancy—what has shaped me most is the dedication I’ve shown to children ever since I was old enough to help care for them. Over the years, I’ve worked extensively with infants and young children in both professional and volunteer capacities. As a Lead Infant Teacher in two different daycare centers, I learned firsthand how to manage a classroom full of babies with care, efficiency, and empathy. I became deeply fascinated with early childhood development, researching the stages of cognitive, physical, emotional, and language growth. I trained in CPR and first aid and learned to quickly recognize signs of illness or distress. These roles not only sharpened my instincts but confirmed my desire to go further—to become a nurse specializing in neonatal or pediatric care. Working as a nanny has been especially formative. One experience that solidified my calling was caring for a toddler and her premature twin sisters. I was there through the family’s high-risk pregnancy, celebrated the twins’ survival despite serious complications, and provided daily care as they grew from fragile newborns into thriving babies. I was responsible for their health, routines, and development—and even incorporated dance and yoga into our daily activities, drawing from my own background as a dancer and high school dance team member. Teaching movement to children has become one of my favorite ways to bond with them and support their growth. Outside of my jobs, I’ve always made time to serve my community. I’ve volunteered in my church’s childcare department, where I supported families during services and special events. I also served as an outdoor school counselor, helping guide and mentor younger students through nature-based learning and social activities. Volunteering with Habitat for Humanity has given me a broader view of what it means to care for families in need. These experiences have taught me the importance of showing up—whether with a listening ear, a helping hand, or a warm smile. Becoming a nurse is more than a goal—it’s the life I’ve been working toward, rooted in compassion, knowledge, and a drive to serve others. I am especially drawn to neonatal and pediatric nursing because it gives me the chance to support both vulnerable children and their families during times of uncertainty. My long-term vision is to work in a NICU or pediatric unit and continue advocating for children’s health both inside and outside the hospital. This scholarship will bring me closer to achieving that dream. It would support my education and training, allowing me to focus on the rigorous coursework and clinical experience needed to become the best nurse I can be. More than financial assistance, this scholarship would be an investment in a lifelong mission to care for others with empathy, knowledge, and heart.

Growing up with asthma has been one of the most defining aspects of my life, influencing not just my physical health, but also my emotional well-being. From a young age, I’ve dealt with the overwhelming feeling of not being able to breathe—feeling trapped in my own body, with each breath becoming a struggle. But asthma hasn’t just been a physical condition; it has also led to anxiety, hyperventilating, and panic attacks, especially in moments when my asthma flares up unexpectedly. When I was younger, I didn’t fully understand the impact that asthma could have on my emotional health. At first, it was simply about managing my inhaler and avoiding triggers, but over time, I noticed that the fear of not being able to breathe, or of having another asthma attack, began to take a toll on me. The panic attacks often came out of nowhere, fueled by the anxiety of wondering if I’d be able to get my breath back. The fear of suffocating during an asthma attack triggered an even deeper sense of vulnerability, and it wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. What’s been most difficult about living with asthma is the financial burden. As an individual without consistent health insurance, there have been times when I’ve had to pay out of pocket for an inhaler, and the costs were staggering. I’ve spent as much as $400 a month simply to be able to breathe. This astronomical expense is not something everyone can afford, and it made me realize just how critical it is for healthcare to be accessible and affordable. No one should have to choose between paying rent and paying for an inhaler, especially when something as essential as breathing is at stake. It’s a constant reminder of how crucial it is to advocate for healthcare reform, so that everyone, regardless of their financial situation, can access the care they need. This struggle with asthma and its emotional impact is one of the main reasons I’ve chosen to pursue a career in nursing, specifically in the NICU. I want to help babies with respiratory issues, especially those born prematurely, who face lung-related complications. Everyone deserves to breathe freely, and when I think about my own experience with asthma, I feel an immense desire to advocate for vulnerable babies who need the best care to support their lungs and their health. The NICU has always been a place of deep personal meaning to me; I was born prematurely and spent my first few weeks in the NICU, where I experienced the importance of early intervention and quality care. In addition to treating and caring for babies in the NICU, I also hope to be an advocate for healthcare access and affordability. It is unacceptable that something as fundamental as breathing can come at such a high cost. As a nurse, I will not only provide compassionate care but also stand up for families who may be struggling with healthcare costs. I will use my voice to fight for the healthcare system to be more inclusive, affordable, and accessible—because no one should ever have to struggle to breathe, whether as a baby or an adult. Asthma has taught me resilience. It’s shaped my empathy, my understanding of vulnerability, and my determination to make a difference. The experience of struggling to breathe has made me passionate about caring for babies with respiratory challenges, and it has inspired me to work towards a future where everyone can access affordable healthcare—because everyone deserves to breathe.

Music has always been a safe place for me—where emotions I couldn’t express out loud found a voice. Billie Eilish is one of the few artists who can turn vulnerability, confusion, and emotional complexity into something beautiful. Her music doesn’t shy away from darkness—it embraces it with honesty, which is why I connect with her so deeply. If I had to choose the three songs that have impacted me the most, they would be “bellyache,” “watch,” and “i love you.” “bellyache” stands out to me because of the way it captures guilt and emotional numbness through metaphor and irony. On the surface, it’s playful—even upbeat—but under that is a story about loss, regret, and feeling disconnected from your own emotions. That contradiction resonates with me because, growing up, I often masked how I felt. I experienced anxiety and panic attacks as early as six years old and had to learn how to manage emotions most kids hadn’t even learned to name. “bellyache” reminds me of those moments—when I knew something was wrong inside, but didn’t yet have the language to explain it. It helped me understand that sometimes emotions don’t make sense, and that’s okay. “watch” is the song I go to when I’m processing heartbreak—not just in romantic relationships, but in friendships, disappointments, and growing pains. The lyrics, “I'll sit and watch your car burn / with the fire that you started in me,” say so much without needing to say everything. It’s about betrayal, realization, and finally walking away from something that no longer serves you. That kind of emotional clarity is something I’ve fought for in my own life—learning when to stay, when to care, and when to let go. As someone pursuing a career in NICU nursing, emotional resilience is essential, and “watch” reminds me that healing often requires release. Lastly, “i love you” breaks my heart in the best way every time I hear it. It’s fragile, stripped down, and full of tension—the kind that exists when love and fear live side by side. To me, it captures how hard it can be to let someone in when you’ve been hurt before. It’s a song about honesty, even when it’s painful, and that vulnerability takes so much strength. It’s the kind of strength I want to embody not just in my personal life, but in my future as a nurse—because being present with someone else’s pain requires empathy, softness, and truth. These songs aren’t just music to me—they’re emotional blueprints. They’ve helped me understand myself, cope with hard moments, and grow into someone more self-aware and grounded. Billie’s ability to articulate the feelings we often keep buried has helped shape the kind of nurse, person, and listener I want to be. Music has taught me that emotional connection saves people—and I want to spend my life doing the same.

I grew up in Southeast Portland in a lower-income household where healthcare wasn’t taken for granted—it was essential. I learned early on just how much of a lifeline it can be. At only six years old, I began experiencing severe panic attacks. I was scared, confused, and overwhelmed. Fortunately, because we had access to healthcare, I was able to receive medication, counseling, and the support of a psychiatrist. That early intervention didn’t just help me manage my mental health—it changed the course of my life. Without that care, I truly don’t know where I would be today. Those early experiences shaped how I see the world. They taught me that quality, compassionate healthcare—especially for children—can be life-saving. That’s what inspired me to pursue a career in pediatric nursing. I want to be the person who shows up when a child or family feels scared or uncertain. I want to offer calm, knowledgeable, and compassionate care when it's needed most. More specifically, I am working toward becoming a NICU nurse—a path that feels not just like a goal, but a calling. I was born prematurely after a high-risk pregnancy and spent my first days in the NICU. My parents have always told me stories about how dedicated and kind the NICU nurses were, how they offered not just medical care, but comfort and strength during a very uncertain time. Those stories stuck with me. I want to give back in the same way—to be a steady, supportive presence for families in the NICU, just as others were for mine. My passion for working with babies runs deep, and so does my experience. Over the years, I’ve worked extensively with infants in both daycare and in-home settings. As a Lead Infant Teacher, I cared for multiple babies at once, managed feeding schedules, tracked developmental milestones, and learned to quickly spot signs of illness or distress. As a nanny, I cared for premature twins who came home from the hospital weighing only three and five pounds. I learned to be attentive, gentle, and responsive to every little cue—skills that are absolutely essential in neonatal care. These experiences didn’t just prepare me for the NICU—they confirmed that this is where I’m meant to be. In the future, I hope to work in a hospital NICU, supporting medically fragile newborns and guiding families through some of the hardest moments of their lives. I also want to use my degree to advocate for equitable access to pediatric care—especially in under-resourced communities like the one I grew up in. Every child deserves the chance to survive, thrive, and be surrounded by care that sees their worth and potential. This degree isn’t just about my future. It’s about paying forward the care I once received. It’s about turning a personal journey into a professional mission—and making sure that every baby, no matter how small or fragile, has someone fighting for them from their very first breath.

Some careers are chosen. Others feel like they choose you. My journey into pediatric medicine began long before I could speak it into words. I was born prematurely after my mother endured a high-risk pregnancy filled with complications—endometriosis, placenta previa, and a long history of miscarriages. My parents were bracing themselves for loss. But instead, they were introduced to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU)—a place that would forever shape the direction of my life. Thanks to the NICU nurses and pediatric specialists who cared for me, I not only survived but thrived. As I grew, my parents often told me stories about the care, comfort, and expertise those medical professionals gave us during our most vulnerable moments. Their stories became part of me, planting a deep respect for pediatric caregivers and a burning desire to one day be one of them. That desire evolved into action. As an adult, I’ve spent years working with infants and young children, including as a Lead Infant Teacher and as a nanny for families with high-needs children. I’ve cared for healthy babies, sick babies, and premature twins who came home weighing only three and five pounds. I’ve celebrated milestones, calmed fevers, responded to emergencies, and held space for worried parents. Each experience reaffirmed what I already knew: pediatric medicine is my calling. But what truly inspires me to pursue this field is the unmatched strength and resilience of children—especially those who face serious illness. While I haven't worked directly with children battling cancer, I’ve seen the emotional toll that pediatric illness can take on families. One family I worked with faced a high-risk twin pregnancy where one baby’s life hung in the balance. Against all odds, both girls survived. Supporting them through their early challenges was an honor, and it showed me just how vital compassionate pediatric care is—not just for patients, but for their families too. That’s why this scholarship, given in memory of a child who faced cancer, means so much to me. I cannot begin to imagine the depth of that loss, but I do know what it feels like to be on the edge of hope. I know what it means for families to put their trust in doctors and nurses to carry them through the darkest days. And I want to be part of that team—the one that brings comfort, courage, and care to children fighting unimaginable battles. Pediatric medicine is not just about treating illness; it’s about protecting innocence, restoring hope, and honoring the strength of children who fight harder than most people ever will. I want to be a nurse who doesn’t just administer care, but who listens, advocates, and stands strong beside patients and their families. This scholarship will bring me closer to that future. It will support my education, lighten my financial load, and most importantly, allow me to carry forward the legacy of the child in whose name it was created. I will honor their memory in the most meaningful way I know—by dedicating my life to helping other children live.

My journey to nursing began before I could walk, talk, or even breathe on my own. Born prematurely after a high-risk pregnancy, I came into this world surrounded by uncertainty. My mother had experienced multiple miscarriages, battled endometriosis, and was diagnosed with placenta previa while pregnant with me. At just 30 weeks, she was admitted to the hospital and placed on strict bed rest. Five weeks later, I was delivered via cesarean section. It was the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) nurses who stepped in during those first critical moments of my life, providing care not only to me, but comfort and hope to my parents. Growing up, I was raised on stories of survival and strength—stories that always ended with deep gratitude for the nurses who helped save my life. Those stories planted a seed in me: a desire to become one of those nurses, to return the care that was once given to me. Nursing is not just a career path for me—it’s a calling rooted in lived experience. Over the years, that calling only grew stronger. I spent my early adulthood working closely with babies and young children, first as a Lead Infant Teacher in two daycares and later as a nanny. These roles weren’t just jobs—they were hands-on learning experiences that deepened my understanding of infant health, developmental milestones, and the unique care that children require. I learned to recognize signs of illness, respond to emergencies, and prioritize safety above all else. I earned CPR and first aid certifications, but more importantly, I learned how to listen, observe, and advocate for those too young to speak for themselves. One of the most impactful experiences of my life was caring for premature twin girls. I had been hired by their family before the babies were born, and I witnessed the rollercoaster of a high-risk pregnancy. One twin was significantly smaller, and there was a real fear she might not survive. Miraculously, both girls were born early—but alive—and spent time in the NICU. Caring for them at home, when they were only three and five pounds, was a deeply emotional and transformative experience. I saw firsthand how fragile life could be and how essential skilled, compassionate care is in those early days. These experiences solidified my commitment to pediatric nursing, especially in neonatal care. I want to be the person who shows up when families are scared, uncertain, and overwhelmed—the way someone once did for my family. I want to care for the tiniest patients with both clinical excellence and heartfelt compassion. Pediatric nursing is where my passion, purpose, and personal history all come together. This scholarship would allow me to continue my education and move closer to my goal of becoming a NICU nurse. It would not only ease the financial burden but also empower me to fulfill a mission that began the day I was born. I hope to one day offer families the same comfort and care that saved my life—and to be part of the stories they tell for years to come.

Some people discover their calling later in life—mine was with me from the very beginning. My story starts before I was even born, when complications during my mother’s high-risk pregnancy led to my premature birth at 35 weeks. The odds were stacked against us. My mother had suffered multiple miscarriages, faced placenta previa, and was hospitalized on bed rest for over a month. When I was finally delivered via cesarean section, my family braced for the worst—but thanks to the expert care of NICU nurses, I made it through. For as long as I can remember, my parents told me stories about that time. I didn’t just hear about the fear and uncertainty they experienced; I also heard about the unwavering support they received from healthcare professionals who made sure their baby had a fighting chance. Those stories planted a seed in me that has grown stronger every year: a desire to work in healthcare, specifically in neonatal care, where even the smallest actions can change the course of a life. That desire has been a consistent thread throughout my personal and professional journey. Over the years, I’ve gravitated toward working with babies and young children, especially in roles that required care, attention, and emotional sensitivity. As a Lead Infant Teacher, I learned how to care for multiple infants at once, track their developmental milestones, and respond quickly to signs of illness or distress. I developed not just knowledge, but instincts—how to soothe, how to protect, how to communicate without words. One of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had was working as a nanny for a toddler and her twin sisters. The twins were born prematurely after a high-risk pregnancy that nearly ended in tragedy. I began caring for them shortly after they came home from the NICU—each weighing just a few pounds. Being part of their lives from such a vulnerable stage reminded me of my own beginning and made my career goals feel more urgent and real. I saw firsthand how fragile life can be—and how powerful the role of a caregiver truly is. Nursing is more than a profession to me—it’s a purpose. I want to be the person who shows up when families are at their most uncertain, just like those NICU nurses did for mine. I want to provide not only excellent medical care, but also the compassion, reassurance, and calm that every parent deserves when their child is fighting to survive. Receiving this scholarship would bring me one step closer to making that vision a reality. It would allow me to pursue the education and training I need to serve others in the same way I was once served. My journey began in a NICU, and I hope it will come full circle—so I can be there for other families at the start of theirs.

I was about six years old the first time I came face to face with the confusing, heartbreaking reality of Alzheimer’s Disease. I remember visiting my Great-Grandparents with my mom and being curious about why my sweet Great Grandma Juanita was rocking, snuggling, diapering, and even feeding a baby doll. I had the exact same one at home, so when I tried to play with hers, I was shocked when she became upset and wouldn’t let me touch it. That day, my mom gently explained to me what Alzheimer’s and dementia were—that Great Grandma thought the doll was a real baby, and that sometimes she couldn’t recognize people or remember who they were. At six years old, I didn’t fully understand. I just knew that the woman who used to smile at me with warmth now seemed like a stranger, and it scared me. Later, I experienced that fear again—this time more deeply—when someone even closer to me was affected: my grandfather, my Pop-Pop. He was my best friend growing up. He played with me and my brothers, took us to the park, and even let me eat ramen with a round spoon—something so small, but a memory I still cherish. I was eight years old when I heard the words that would change our family: Pop-Pop had suffered a stroke while at work. He was clinically dead for 20 minutes before being revived, but the lack of oxygen had caused irreversible brain damage. He was later diagnosed with dementia and memory loss. My mother was heartbroken. He had always been her rock, and now the man she leaned on had become someone unfamiliar. We took him into our home, even though my parents were already caring for three young kids—me and my two younger brothers. I remember one terrifying night when he wandered out of the house, completely disoriented. My mom woke up and couldn’t find him. She called the police, and luckily he was brought home safely. But the risks were too great, especially in the neighborhood we lived in, and my parents made the painful decision to move him into a care facility. Visiting him there was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Sometimes he was cheerful, and other times he was lost in delusions. I vividly remember one moment when he told me there were vampires in the hospital. It scared me terribly, but my mom explained that his mind was confusing TV with reality—another heartbreaking side effect of dementia. Watching both my Great Grandma and my Pop-Pop fade in and out of the people I once knew has left a lasting impression on me. I’ve seen how memory loss can fracture not just the person suffering, but everyone who loves them. These experiences have made me deeply aware of how dementia affects entire families, not just individuals. It brings fear, confusion, guilt, and grief—but it also taught me empathy, patience, and how to show love even when it isn’t always returned in the way you expect. Knowing that Alzheimer’s and dementia run in my family terrifies me. I pray that my parents never have to endure such a confusing and debilitating disease. But if they do, I now know how to love them through it. I’ve seen firsthand how important support and understanding are. And that’s a lesson I will carry with me forever.

Two years ago, I was working as a Lead Infant Teacher at a daycare and after-school center, primarily caring for children between the ages of three weeks and one year. Childcare has always been a part of my identity—I started babysitting at twelve, volunteered with children at my church throughout my teenage years, worked as a nanny for five different families, and held Lead Infant Teacher roles at two daycare centers. I loved what I did. Caring for children wasn’t just a job to me—it was a responsibility I took to heart. But one afternoon at work, I experienced a moment that changed my life and tested every value I held. I noticed one of my coworkers in a state of panic. She had found a one-year-old girl, who had recently transitioned out of my infant class, alone—outside the building. The area wasn’t fenced, and just beyond the lot was a busy road in Gresham. The assigned teacher had reportedly stepped away to use the restroom, leaving the room unsupervised. Somehow, during that short period, the toddler had wandered outside. What shook me even more than the incident itself was what followed: nothing. No incident report was written. The child’s parents weren’t informed. State licensing wasn’t contacted. The teacher who had left the child unattended was still working as though nothing had happened. Days passed, then weeks. As someone who had spent years advocating for child safety, this was more than unsettling—it was unacceptable. I voiced my concerns to management and coworkers, hoping for accountability. But when I realized no action would be taken, I knew I had to do something, even if it meant facing consequences myself. I reported the incident to Child Protective Services, contacted the state licensing board, and informed the child’s parents. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. I resigned from my position without another job lined up and feared retaliation. My financial future was uncertain, but morally, I knew I couldn’t stay silent. That child couldn’t advocate for herself—but I could. This experience fundamentally shifted my perception of life and solidified my desire to become a NICU nurse. Working in neonatal care means protecting some of the most vulnerable lives—infants who rely on nurses to not only provide critical care but to advocate for them when they cannot speak. In that daycare moment, I found my voice. As a future NICU nurse, I plan to use that same voice to speak up for my patients, ensure their safety, and stand firm in moments where doing the right thing might be the hardest choice. While the experience was traumatic, it ultimately reinforced my purpose. I am now more committed than ever to creating safer, more ethical environments for children. It reminded me that adversity isn’t just something to endure—it’s something that, when faced head-on, can define who you are and the kind of change you're willing to make in the world.

Mental health is important to me as a student because of my own personal journey with anxiety and panic disorder. At just six years old, I experienced my first panic attack, which marked the beginning of a long struggle with mental health. I didn’t understand what was happening to my body at the time—why my throat felt tight or why I couldn’t breathe. This invisible battle continued throughout my childhood, leading to months of refusing to eat and eventually being diagnosed with anxiety and panic disorder. I was placed on antidepressants at a young age, and for many years, I felt different, as though something was wrong with me. But over time, I’ve come to see my mental health journey not as a weakness but as a source of resilience and strength. As a student, I now see mental health as an essential part of my overall well-being, and I advocate for mental health by sharing my experiences and supporting others who might be going through similar challenges. I know firsthand how isolating mental health struggles can be, which is why I try to create a space where others feel comfortable discussing their feelings and seeking help. Whether in my school community, at home, or in my personal relationships, I make an effort to normalize conversations about mental health. In doing so, I hope to reduce the stigma that often surrounds mental illness and encourage others to reach out for support when needed. Additionally, my experiences have allowed me to support those around me in meaningful ways. When my mother began experiencing panic attacks, I was able to use my understanding of mental health to offer her comfort and reassurance, reminding her that things would be okay. I’ve also worked with children who showed signs of anxiety or obsessive-compulsive behavior and shared parts of my own story to help them feel understood and less alone. By offering empathy and creating an environment where others feel safe to express their emotions, I hope to help others feel seen and supported. Advocating for mental health also means being patient and compassionate, recognizing that everyone faces their own invisible battles. I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear, and mental health struggles are not something to be ashamed of but rather a part of the human experience. This perspective shapes everything I do—from the way I interact with others to my academic and professional goals. I am committed to becoming a trauma-informed nurse, where I can use my experiences and empathy to care for others, ensuring they feel understood both physically and emotionally. This scholarship will help me pursue my nursing degree and continue advocating for mental health in meaningful ways. It will allow me to turn my personal struggles into something positive—helping others who are facing their own mental health challenges. If I can provide the same level of care, understanding, and compassion that I received during my darkest times, I will have fulfilled my purpose and made a lasting difference. Mental health doesn’t define me, but it has shaped who I am and drives my desire to make a positive impact in the world.

Surviving multiple near-death experiences as a premature baby has profoundly shaped my life in ways I am only beginning to understand. At 30 weeks pregnant, my mother was admitted to the maternity ward and put on strict bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. Five weeks later, she delivered me via cesarean section due to complications with her high-risk pregnancy. My mother had a history of multiple miscarriages, endometriosis, and additional complications, including placenta previa. Because of this, my parents became familiar with the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), where many premature babies, including me, were cared for. Thanks to the dedication of the hospital staff and NICU nurses, I was born prematurely but relatively healthy. Growing up, I often heard stories about my parents’ struggles to have me, which instilled in me a deep respect for nurses and sparked my dream of becoming a NICU nurse to help families like mine. The care and support I received in the NICU ignited a passion for nursing, and I knew I wanted to make a difference in the lives of vulnerable infants. Throughout my adulthood, I have focused on working with babies and young children, which has been incredibly rewarding. In my role as a Lead Infant Teacher in two different daycares, I learned the importance of multitasking and caring for multiple babies at once. I also developed an interest in understanding infant developmental milestones, including cognitive, physical, emotional, and language growth. My experiences deepened my understanding of infant health, and I became more attuned to recognizing signs of illness, prioritizing safety, and responding to emergencies. I was trained in CPR and first aid, essential skills that helped me ensure the well-being of the children in my care. These experiences reaffirmed my desire to pursue a nursing career where I could combine my passion for working with babies and my desire to help families in need. One role that significantly fueled my passion for nursing was working as a nanny for a toddler and her premature twin sisters. I began caring for them before the twins were born, and the pregnancy soon became high-risk. One twin was much smaller and at risk of not surviving. The parents faced the difficult choice of whether to abort the smaller twin to save the other, but they decided to let both twins fight for their survival. They were born eight weeks early, and both spent time in the NICU before coming home at just 3 and 5 pounds. Caring for these tiny premature twins reinforced my dream of becoming a NICU nurse and cemented my commitment to providing care for vulnerable infants. These life experiences have made becoming a NICU nurse more than just a career goal—it’s a calling rooted in my personal journey and desire to give back to the community that supported me during my earliest moments. I am dedicated to providing care and comfort to infants and families in the NICU, ensuring they receive the same dedication and expertise that I was fortunate to receive. This scholarship will help me achieve my academic and professional goals, bringing me closer to making a meaningful impact in the lives of others, just as healthcare professionals did for me and my family.

From the very beginning of my life, the medical field has played a significant role in shaping who I am and what I feel called to do. I was born prematurely after my mother experienced a high-risk pregnancy, and I spent the earliest days of my life in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). While I don’t remember that time, my parents often shared stories about the incredible nurses who not only cared for me but also supported them through uncertainty and fear. Those stories never left me. The compassion, calm, and dedication shown by those nurses became something I deeply admired, and over time, their example became my inspiration. As I grew older, I began working closely with infants and families, gaining real-world experience that strengthened my desire to pursue a medical career. I worked as a Lead Infant Teacher in two different daycare settings, where I was responsible for the health, safety, and development of several babies at once. Through these roles, I learned how to recognize signs of illness, stay calm in emergencies, and support both the physical and emotional needs of infants and their families. I became certified in CPR and first aid and developed a strong interest in infant development and health. Later, I had the opportunity to work as a nanny for a family expecting premature twins. From the time the pregnancy became high-risk, I was closely involved in supporting the family, and when the babies were born early, I helped care for them after their NICU stay. Caring for premature infants at home—monitoring their growth, assisting with feeding, and watching them reach milestones—brought my personal story full circle. I realized this wasn’t just something I wanted to do; it was something I felt deeply called to do. What inspires me to pursue a career in the medical field is the opportunity to make a real, lasting impact. I plan to specialize in neonatal or pediatric nursing, where I can combine clinical knowledge with emotional support to help families during some of the most critical moments of their lives. I want to be the nurse who not only provides expert care but also offers reassurance, listens without judgment, and stands beside families when they need it most. In the long term, I hope to take my passion further by advocating for greater access to healthcare and education for families, particularly those with premature or medically fragile infants. I also see myself possibly mentoring future nurses, sharing the lessons I’ve learned from both personal and professional experiences. My goal is to be a part of a medical system that not only treats illness but also empowers and supports every patient and family. This path was inspired by the care I received as a newborn and strengthened by the many children and families I’ve worked with since. I am ready to dedicate my life to giving back through a career in the medical field—one that allows me to bring hope, healing, and heart to every patient I serve.

I am someone who finds purpose in service, especially in caring for others during vulnerable moments. I’ve always been a deeply empathetic person, motivated by connection and compassion. I didn’t grow up dreaming of a specific job title, however I knew I wanted to help people in a meaningful way. Over time, that drive found a home in the field of nursing. I was born prematurely after a complicated pregnancy that involved multiple medical risks and uncertainties. I spent the first days of my life in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, while my family leaned heavily on the support and expertise of NICU nurses. Though I don’t remember those moments, the stories my parents shared stayed with me. The nurses who cared for me weren’t just tending to a baby—they were supporting a family through fear and uncertainty. That idea stuck with me, and in many ways, planted the earliest seed of my calling. As I grew older, I gravitated toward roles that allowed me to work with infants and young children. I became a Lead Infant Teacher in multiple childcare centers, responsible for the safety, development, and emotional well-being of babies. I took CPR and first aid training seriously and began to develop an interest in infant health and developmental milestones. I eventually worked as a nanny to a toddler and her premature twin sisters, both born after a high-risk pregnancy and NICU stay. Helping care for these tiny newborns—monitoring feedings, tracking growth, and watching them overcome early medical challenges—was the moment everything clicked. I realized that I didn’t just want to care for children. I wanted to be trained to make critical medical decisions. I wanted to be a nurse. If I could do anything with my life, I would become a NICU nurse who not only supports infants but also helps guide families through some of the hardest moments they will ever face. I want to be someone they can trust—someone who offers both knowledge and comfort. Eventually, I’d love to mentor or educate future NICU nurses, passing on the same inspiration that has driven me. While my focus is on healthcare, I also have a strong interest in STEM and, in particular, the role that technology plays in advancing medicine. What excites me about STEM is its potential to evolve and solve real problems. Every breakthrough in STEM—whether in biology, engineering, or computer science—has the power to make someone’s life better. That’s powerful. In my own career, I see how important information technology is to healthcare. Electronic health records, diagnostic tools, and telemedicine platforms are all becoming integral parts of modern care. I’m fascinated by the way tech and healthcare are blending. I believe that by combining my interest in nursing with a strong foundation in information systems, I could be part of that future—perhaps working in health IT, helping to design better tools for nurses, or improving the systems that store and protect patient data. I see myself one day contributing to innovations that make care safer, faster, and more personalized. For example, how can we use technology to better monitor premature infants? How can we create smarter alert systems for nurses in busy units? These are the kinds of questions that inspire me—and ones I hope to work on in the future. Of course, the road to where I am now hasn’t been simple. One of the greatest challenges I’ve faced is navigating a nontraditional path to higher education. After high school, I didn’t go directly to college. Instead, I entered the workforce and began supporting myself while gaining experience in early childhood care. While I learned a lot in those years, I also struggled with a sense of being “behind.” Watching peers pursue degrees and launch careers while I was working long hours made me question whether I had missed my chance. What helped me move forward was recognizing the value in my journey. I realized that the years I spent working hands-on with infants weren’t wasted—they were foundational. They taught me how to communicate under pressure, how to recognize health concerns in babies, how to comfort anxious parents, and how to lead with patience and empathy. These aren’t just life skills—they’re nursing skills. When I reframed my experience in that light, I found the confidence to return to school and commit fully to my goal of becoming a nurse. Going back to school as an adult wasn’t easy, but it was empowering. I developed time management skills, sought out mentors, and used every available resource to stay on track. I learned that success doesn’t always come on a linear timeline—and that resilience often comes from the detours we take, not the shortcuts. Now, I’m more motivated than ever. I see each class and clinical as a step toward a future where I can truly make a difference. Whether it’s through bedside care in a NICU or helping develop better healthcare technology, I am committed to improving lives. I want to be a nurse not just because I care, but because I’m ready to act—to take all the lessons life has taught me and use them in service of others. In the end, everything I’ve done—my early experiences, my challenges, and my passions—has led me here. And I’m ready to take the next step toward a career where I can give back, innovate, and care deeply.

I didn’t always know I wanted to be a nurse—but I’ve always been a caregiver at heart. Whether it was babysitting, working in childcare, or supporting families in challenging situations, I was always drawn to the role of helping others feel safe, cared for, and understood. Over time, that instinct evolved into a clear and passionate desire to pursue a career in nursing. My first introduction to nursing came through a story I’ve heard my whole life—my own. I was born prematurely after my mother experienced a complicated and high-risk pregnancy. Her history of miscarriages and a diagnosis of placenta previa made every week a challenge. I was delivered via cesarean section at 35 weeks, and spent the beginning of my life in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. I was too young to remember those days, but my parents never forgot. The NICU nurses weren’t just medical professionals to them—they were a source of strength and comfort during a terrifying time. The way they supported my parents while keeping me alive and thriving became a story that shaped how I saw the world and what kind of person I wanted to be. As I grew up, I naturally found myself drawn to working with infants and young children. I spent several years as a Lead Infant Teacher in daycare settings, responsible for the care, safety, and developmental growth of multiple babies at once. I learned how to manage emergencies, track physical and emotional development, and communicate effectively with both children and parents. I pursued CPR and first aid training, which deepened my confidence in handling unexpected situations. These experiences gave me a solid foundation in caring for others and sparked my curiosity about health, development, and how the body responds in early life. A pivotal moment came when I worked as a nanny for a family expecting premature twins. Their pregnancy was high-risk, and the family faced incredibly difficult decisions about the survival of both babies. When the twins were born eight weeks early, I supported the family through their NICU experience and later helped care for the babies at home. One weighed only three pounds, the other five. Assisting with their care—learning their feeding schedules, monitoring their health, and supporting their development—felt like a full-circle moment. It reminded me of my own beginnings and solidified my desire to become a NICU nurse. I want to pursue nursing because I want to combine compassionate care with clinical expertise. I want to be the person who can both ease a parent’s fear and take decisive action to help a struggling infant. I see nursing not just as a job, but as a calling—one rooted in my own survival story, shaped by years of experience with children, and confirmed through moments of real emotional and physical caregiving. Nursing will allow me to give back in a way that feels deeply personal and profoundly meaningful. I am ready to step into this role, not only to fulfill a dream, but to become the kind of nurse who made all the difference in my life and in the lives of so many others.

From the very beginning, my life has been defined by resilience. I was born prematurely after my mother faced a series of complex pregnancy complications, including placenta previa and a history of miscarriages. Despite the odds, I survived—and the NICU became my first home. Though I was too young to remember it, the stories shared by my parents about those early days made a lasting impression on me. They spoke often of the NICU nurses whose skill, compassion, and dedication helped guide them through one of the most challenging times of their lives. Even as a child, I knew I wanted to give that same kind of support to others. I’ve always been aware of my love for helping others, from an early age. When I was 12 years old I won an award for “most likely to get a job helping others”, because of my behavior in elementary school helping with some of the special needs children. I have also spent the majority of my life helping children through school settings, and nanny jobs. Over the years, this early sense of purpose only grew stronger. I found myself drawn to working with infants, both professionally and personally. As a Lead Infant Teacher in childcare centers, I developed an understanding of early childhood development, health, and safety. My experiences caring for large groups of infants taught me how to multitask, stay calm under pressure, and notice the subtle signs of a baby’s needs. I also became certified in CPR and first aid, sharpening my ability to act quickly and effectively in emergency situations. One of the most defining chapters of my story was working as a nanny for a family expecting premature twins. The pregnancy was high-risk, and the survival of both babies was uncertain. After their early arrival and NICU stay, I had the privilege of helping care for them at home. Supporting these tiny newborns through their early milestones reminded me just how fragile—and how strong—life can be. It reaffirmed my belief that NICU nurses are not just caregivers, but lifelines for families in crisis. Nursing, to me, represents an opportunity to transform personal experience into meaningful impact. I hope to become a NICU nurse who offers reassurance, stability, and excellent care to families facing the same fears mine once did. This path is more than a professional ambition—it’s a mission rooted in gratitude and empathy. By earning my nursing degree, I’ll be able to give back to my community in the most meaningful way I know: by helping its tiniest members grow stronger every day.

At six years old, I had my first panic attack. Sitting in the back of our family van after a summer camping trip, I suddenly felt an overwhelming fear I couldn’t explain. My throat tightened, and I struggled to breathe, thinking I was choking. This was the beginning of my ongoing battle with anxiety and depression. In the months that followed, I faced frequent panic attacks and didn’t understand why. Eating became a trigger, so I stopped eating to avoid feeling fear. I was starving myself, yet the panic didn’t stop. At such a young age, I was dealing with emotions that most children never experience. Eventually, I was diagnosed with anxiety and panic disorder and prescribed antidepressants. I felt different from my peers, thinking something was wrong with me. But over time, I realized that my struggles were part of who I am, not something to be ashamed of. I learned that mental health is not a flaw, but a part of my journey. My experiences with mental health have shaped my beliefs. I now believe mental health is just as important as physical health. Through my own struggles, I’ve learned that mental health challenges are real, and seeking help is an act of strength. I’ve come to understand that healing is not linear. There will be setbacks, but it’s important to keep moving forward. Mental wellness should be a priority for everyone. Most importantly, I’ve learned that vulnerability is powerful. Talking openly about mental health reduces stigma and creates understanding. My relationships have also been deeply shaped by my mental health journey. For years, I kept my struggles hidden, afraid no one would understand. But over time, I learned to communicate my feelings and ask for help when needed. This shift allowed me to build deeper relationships. When my mother began experiencing panic attacks, I was able to comfort her, knowing exactly what she was going through. I was there for her, just as she had been there for me. In my work as a nanny, I’ve also supported children struggling with anxiety and OCD. Sharing my own experiences helped them feel less alone and more understood. I’ve come to realize that emotional support is just as important as physical care. Sometimes, just being there for someone can make all the difference. Most significantly, my experiences with mental health have shaped my career aspirations. Having faced the fear of feeling misunderstood, I want to pursue a career in nursing. I want to help people navigate health challenges, especially related to mental health. Through my experiences, I’ve learned that healing is about more than just physical care—it’s about emotional support and empathy. I hope to become a trauma-informed nurse who not only provides medical treatment but also offers understanding and compassion. I want to create a safe space for patients, where they feel comfortable expressing their fears and concerns. This scholarship will allow me to continue my journey toward becoming a nurse, helping others manage both physical and mental health challenges. Through my personal experiences, I hope to offer the same support I once needed, ensuring others never feel as alone as I did. Mental illness doesn’t define me, but it has shaped me. It has made me stronger, more compassionate, and more determined to help others facing their own mental health journeys.

I was sitting in the back of our family van on the way home from a summer camping trip. Holding my Happy Meal box in one hand and my burger in the other, something inside me suddenly snapped. For the first time ever, I thought about dying. I was only six years old, and I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to choke. That was the day I had my first panic attack. At an age when most kids were focused on playtime and cartoons, I was fighting invisible battles just to make it through the day. I didn’t understand what was happening in my body—why my throat felt so tight, why I couldn’t breathe properly, or why waves of fear would crash over me without warning. The aftermath of that first panic attack was two terrifying months during which I refused to eat. Eating had become a trigger for my panic attacks, and in my young mind, starving myself felt like the only way to avoid them. I was slowly wasting away, and still, the panic attacks came. I began to experience depression at just six years old—something no child should ever have to go through. Eventually, I was diagnosed with anxiety and panic disorder. I was placed on antidepressants at a young age, and for a long time, I felt different—like something was wrong with me. But over the years, I’ve come to see my mental health journey not as a weakness, but as a source of strength and resilience. This experience has shaped my life and career goals in profound ways. I want to pursue a career in healthcare—specifically in nursing—because I know what it feels like to be scared, to feel unseen, and to wonder if things will ever get better. I want to be the person who says, “I’ve been there, and I care.” Mental health has taught me that healing isn’t linear and that compassion is just as vital as any treatment. My ultimate goal is to become a trauma-informed nurse who supports patients not only physically but emotionally—someone who truly listens and understands. My relationships have also been shaped by my journey. For a long time, I struggled to explain how I was feeling, even to those closest to me. But over time, I’ve learned how to open up, ask for help, and build meaningful connections based on empathy and trust. My experiences have also allowed me to support others. When I was around 11, my mom began having panic attacks—something she had never experienced before. Because she had been there for me through my darkest times, I was able to hold her and tell her, “It’s going to be okay.” I’ve also worked with children through nanny jobs who showed signs of OCD, intense anxiety, or panic, and I’ve been able to share parts of my own story to help them feel understood and less alone. I value people deeply because I know how powerful it is to have even one person in your corner when life feels overwhelming. I’ve become more patient and compassionate, recognizing that everyone is fighting battles we often can’t see. Most of all, my experience with mental health has changed the way I see the world. I now understand that mental wellness is important for everyone, not just those with diagnoses. I see strength in vulnerability and courage in those who keep going despite it all. That perspective shapes everything I do—from my personal relationships to my academic and professional goals. This scholarship would help me build a future rooted in care, empathy, and resilience. It would allow me to pursue a nursing degree and turn my own struggles into something meaningful—a way to give back, to lift others up, and to make sure no one feels as alone as I once did. Mental illness doesn’t define me, but it has shaped me. It’s made me stronger, more compassionate, and more determined to make a difference in the world. If I can help even one person through their mental health journey, then everything I went through as a child will have been worth it.

Surviving multiple near-death experiences before I was even born has shaped who I am and the path I’ve chosen. I was born prematurely at 35 weeks after my mother endured a high-risk pregnancy filled with complications, including placenta previa and a history of multiple miscarriages. At just 30 weeks, she was hospitalized and placed on strict bed rest. Five weeks later, I was delivered via cesarean section and admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). My parents often tell the story of the overwhelming fear they felt—balanced only by the compassion, knowledge, and dedication of the nurses and doctors who cared for us. That experience, even though I was too young to remember it, laid the foundation for my desire to pursue a career in STEM through nursing. Growing up, my parents shared stories of their journey to bring me into the world, which helped me understand just how critical the NICU was in our lives. Over time, those stories ignited a deep respect for healthcare professionals and planted the seed of a dream: to become a NICU nurse myself. That dream has only grown stronger through personal and professional experiences. I have spent years working with infants and young children—as a Lead Infant Teacher in daycare centers and later as a nanny. These experiences didn’t just confirm my love for working with babies; they gave me practical skills and insight into early childhood development, health, and wellness. I became certified in CPR and first aid, learned to respond calmly in emergencies, and developed a strong intuition for recognizing signs of illness in infants. One experience that deeply affirmed my path was caring for premature twin girls, born eight weeks early. I began working with their family while the mother was still pregnant, during what quickly became another high-risk pregnancy. Doctors warned that one twin was receiving more blood than the other and that survival wasn’t guaranteed. The parents made the brave decision to continue the pregnancy, and both babies were born early but alive. At just 3 and 5 pounds, they came home from the NICU, and I had the honor of helping care for them in their earliest, most fragile days. Watching their strength, and supporting their family through the journey, reignited my commitment to nursing and reminded me that this isn’t just a profession—it’s a calling. As a woman entering the STEM field, I hope to bring not only clinical knowledge but also deep empathy and lived experience to my work. I want to be the kind of nurse who helps families feel seen, supported, and understood—especially when facing the fear and uncertainty that often come with premature birth. I also want to serve as a role model for other women and girls, showing that science, compassion, and leadership can coexist in powerful ways. This scholarship will help me reach my academic and professional goals and bring me closer to making a real difference in healthcare. I am excited to join the next generation of women in STEM—where I can help shape a more inclusive, empathetic, and impactful future in medicine.

From the very beginning of my life, healthcare played a critical role in my survival. I was born prematurely at 35 weeks via cesarean section after a high-risk pregnancy complicated by placenta previa, endometriosis, and my mother’s history of multiple miscarriages. At 30 weeks, she was hospitalized and placed on strict bed rest until my delivery. Despite the risks, I was born relatively healthy, thanks to the dedication of the hospital staff and NICU nurses. Their care not only saved my life—it became the inspiration behind my own caregiving journey and my dream of becoming a NICU nurse. Over the past 14 years, caregiving has been at the heart of my life. I have worked as a nanny for five different families and served as a Lead Infant Teacher at two childcare centers. While my work has involved children of all ages, my focus has always been on infants and toddlers. Caring for multiple babies at once taught me how to multitask efficiently while maintaining a calm, nurturing environment. I developed a keen eye for infant cues, early developmental signs, and behaviors that require additional support or medical attention. Throughout my caregiving career, I have cared for children with a wide range of needs, including several with autism and ADHD. These experiences have taught me the value of patience, adaptability, and individualized care. I’ve learned to create sensory-friendly routines, use nonverbal communication strategies, and build trusting relationships that help children feel safe and understood. My goal has always been to support not only the child but the entire family, meeting each unique situation with empathy and professionalism. In addition to developmental care, I’ve also cared for many children while they were sick—some with fevers, respiratory issues, or recovering from surgery. I was often responsible for administering medications, monitoring symptoms, and deciding when to alert parents or seek medical guidance. These experiences gave me a practical foundation in health and safety protocols, which I supplemented with CPR and first aid training. I learned how to remain calm in emergencies, prioritize safety, and make informed decisions under pressure. One of the most defining moments in my caregiving journey was working as a nanny for a family with a toddler and premature twin sisters. I started before the twins were born, and the pregnancy quickly became high-risk. One twin was receiving most of the blood supply, while the other struggled to survive. Against the odds, both babies made it through and were born eight weeks early. They spent time in the NICU before coming home—one weighing just 3 pounds, the other 5. I was entrusted with their care from those fragile early days, providing round-the-clock support, tracking their feedings, administering medications, and closely monitoring their growth and development. It was during this time that I realized caregiving wasn’t just my job—it was my calling. Becoming a NICU nurse means taking all of the skills, knowledge, and compassion I’ve built over the past 14 years and applying them in a clinical setting where they’re needed most. As a woman in healthcare, I hope to make a lasting impact by supporting families during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives—just as nurses once did for mine. This scholarship will help me take the next step toward earning my nursing degree and turning a lifelong passion into a lifelong purpose. I am ready to bring my experience, empathy, and dedication into the NICU—and give back to the healthcare community that gave me my start.

From the very beginning of my life, healthcare played a critical role in my survival. Born prematurely at 35 weeks via cesarean section, I was the product of a high-risk pregnancy that nearly ended before it began. My mother had endured multiple miscarriages, suffered from endometriosis, and faced serious complications during her pregnancy with me, including placenta previa. At 30 weeks, she was admitted to the hospital and placed on strict bed rest until I was delivered five weeks later. Despite the risks, I was born relatively healthy, thanks to the unwavering support and expertise of the hospital staff and NICU nurses. Their care saved my life and gave me the chance to grow up hearing stories of resilience, hope, and compassion. These stories didn’t just shape my childhood—they sparked my passion for healthcare and my dream of becoming a NICU nurse. I chose to pursue a degree in healthcare because I know firsthand how life-changing the care of medical professionals can be. My earliest moments were supported by a team of individuals whose dedication inspired a deep respect for the work they do. As I grew older, that inspiration turned into a mission: to be that support system for others. I have spent my adult life working with infants and young children, nurturing a love for caring for others and gaining invaluable experience along the way. Whether serving as a Lead Infant Teacher in daycares or as a nanny to a toddler and her premature twin sisters, I have been continuously drawn to supporting babies and families—especially those facing the same challenges my own family once endured. One of the most impactful experiences I’ve had was caring for premature twins born eight weeks early, both of whom spent time in the NICU after a complicated pregnancy. Being entrusted with their care once they came home—at just 3 and 5 pounds—solidified my calling. I saw up close the vulnerability of premature infants and the strength required to care for them. My training in CPR, first aid, and early childhood development became tools I relied on daily. It was during this time that I realized nursing wasn’t just a goal for me—it was a personal mission. As a woman in healthcare, I hope to make a positive impact by being a source of strength and comfort to families during some of the most difficult moments of their lives. I want to represent compassion, skill, and resilience in the NICU—qualities I saw reflected in the nurses who once cared for me. Representation matters, and I hope to inspire other women, especially those with personal experiences of adversity, to pursue careers in healthcare. I want to break barriers, lead with empathy, and continue learning so I can provide the best care possible. Receiving this scholarship would bring me one step closer to fulfilling this lifelong dream. It will allow me to pursue my nursing degree and use my personal story and professional experiences to make a lasting difference in the lives of others. I am committed to giving back to the healthcare community that gave me my start and to being the kind of nurse who helps families find hope, even in the most uncertain moments.

Surviving multiple near-death experiences while still inside the womb as a premature baby has shaped my life in ways I am only beginning to understand. At 30 weeks pregnant, my mother was admitted to the maternity ward and put on strict bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. Five weeks later, she delivered me prematurely via cesarean section due to her high-risk pregnancy. My mother had a history of multiple miscarriages, endometriosis, and multiple complications- including placenta previa, during her pregnancy with me. Because of this high-risk pregnancy, my parents became familiar with the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and the premature babies admitted there. Thanks to the dedicated hospital staff and NICU nurses, I was born prematurely but relatively healthy. My childhood was filled with stories of my parents' struggle to have me. I gained not only a deep respect for nurses but also a dream of becoming a NICU nurse and helping families like mine. The care and support I received in the NICU ignited my passion to pursue a career in nursing and make a difference in the lives of vulnerable infants. Working with babies has always been a priority in my life. I have spent my adulthood working with babies and young children. These experiences have been incredibly rewarding, and I have developed a passion for working with babies, especially multiples. Working as a Lead Infant Teacher in two different daycares taught me the importance of multitasking and caring for a high number of babies at once. I also became deeply interested in the developmental milestones of infants. I began researching cognitive, physical, emotional, and language development, as well as infant health. During my time working with babies, I became more attuned to their individual health and wellness. I learned to recognize signs and symptoms of illness, prioritize safety, and respond appropriately in emergencies. I was trained in CPR and first aid, which became essential as I took on the responsibility of ensuring the well-being of infants. This hands-on experience confirmed my desire to pursue a nursing career, where I could continue to learn and use my knowledge to help families in need. One role that truly fueled my passion for nursing was working as a nanny to a toddler and her premature twin sisters. I began this job before the twins were born, and shortly after, the pregnancy became high-risk. One twin was larger and receiving most of the blood supply, while the other was much smaller and at risk of not surviving. The parents were given the difficult decision of whether to abort the smaller twin to save the other. They chose to let both twins fight for survival, and they both survived; born 8 weeks early, and spending some time in the NICU. As their nanny, I helped care for the twins once they were home, at 3 and 5 pounds. Caring for these tiny premature twins confirmed my dream of becoming a NICU nurse. These experiences have made becoming a NICU nurse more than a career goal for me—it’s a calling rooted in my personal journey and a desire to give back to the community that supported me in my earliest moments. I am dedicated to providing care and comfort to infants and families in the NICU, ensuring they receive the same dedication and expertise that I was fortunate to experience. This scholarship will help me achieve my academic and professional goals and bring me closer to making a meaningful difference in others’ lives, just as healthcare professionals did for me and my family.

My educational journey started right out of high school. I began going to college for early childhood education, then decided to switch to nursing years later. The past 6 years have been life changing for me. I decided to go back to school to pursue nursing, during the initial coronavirus outbreak. I then completed all 40 credits of prerequisites toward nursing programs in my area, and began applying to different nursing schools. I finally was accepted into a university nursing program which starts this May. I honestly have not spent as much time and effort working toward anything else in my life. Growing up, I always knew I wanted to go to college. However, I was unaware of what career I wanted to work toward. After developing a love for working with children in my teen years, I decided to go to college to complete a degree in early childhood education. I nannied for a couple years out of high school, and then began working as a lead infant teacher at the age of 20. This is when I decided I wanted a degree in early childhood education so that I could continue working with babies in a daycare setting. I slowly took courses, and paid out of pocket for them. I ended up changing my mind about getting my degree, and switched from workin at a daycare to working as a nanny. At age 26, I decided to go back to school once again to pursue a nursing career working with babies. I got my associates degree in healthcare professions using the basic classes and electives I had completed previously, and then began my prerequisites for nursing. The “aha” moment that made me want to become a nurse was when I was nannying for a family who had twin premature babies. I got to hold their tiniest twin for the first time, and instantly felt completely satisfied and as if I was exactly where I was meant to be. This made me realize that I want to work with premature babies and help nurse them back to health. The fact that I could still work with babies, like I had been doing for years prior, but in a healthcare setting was exactly what I was needing. I helped to raise these babies for 7 more years while working to become a nurse, and now I get to share my journey with them and help inspire them to follow their dreams.

My name is Lexi, and I have always had a natural gift for helping others. I wasn’t aware that I was interested in pursuing a career in nursing until I was a high school senior, but I also didn’t understand how capable I was of completing the schoolwork (especially science) required to apply for nursing school. I’ve had a few specific experiences in life that lead to me wanting to become a nurse. One of the experiences in life that helped me become interested in nursing was when I was in the sixth grade. During recess one day I noticed a younger girl who was in the special education class, and who had both mental and physical disabilities. She was missing both her arms and legs, and also had a severe speech impediment. Specifically, I noticed how she would always be with a caregiver, and didn’t have any friends. I felt a strong sense of empathy for this student and started hanging out with her and talking to her during recess and at lunch time. My experience with this sweet girl was one of the first instances in which I exhibited a natural capability of nursing or caregiving. My parents were later approached by her mother, who was grateful that her daughter had a friend. I made both her and her mother happy. Being able to make an impact at such a young age is one of my proudest memories. As I grew older I developed an absolute love of babies and little ones. I started my first babysitting job at age 12 and told the family that they didn’t need to pay me anything because I loved caring for children so much. My mother then informed me that I should charge an hourly rate, so I requested .25 cents per hour. I later worked as a nanny in the summer during high school, and nannied full time after graduating. I then worked in 3 daycares, primarily in the infant rooms, and nannied for 5 more families thereafter. One of the most influential experiences I have had that lead me toward my pursuit into nursing was working as a nanny for a family who had a toddler and were expecting twins. When the twins were born, they were premature. Hailey weighed 5 pounds, and Madison weighed 3 pounds. I had known for a while that I wanted to work as a nurse, specifically with babies, but helping to raise two premature babies who were so fragile was the moment it clicked in my head that I not only wanted, but needed to become a nurse in the NICU. At about 26 years old, I decided I was done waiting. I enrolled in nursing prerequisites at my local community college while still working full time. It took me a few years to finish these prerequisites, but once they were finished, I began applying to nursing schools in the area. It took me about 2 years to finally get in to nursing school- after retaking a couple of classes to further raise my gpa. I worked harder than I have ever worked for anything in my life. Because of this, I know I’m ready for nursing school, and am so excited to start this May.

There has always been a special place in my heart for babies. Taking care of babies and their families has been my biggest passion from the time I was a child. I first noticed this at church while volunteering in the daycare with my mother. I always wanted to work in the baby room at church, but had to wait until I was 15. Once I was 15, I was in absolute heaven and realized that I could calm any baby down, as well as figure out exactly what they were needing. While growing up, I worked a handful of jobs involving babies and young children throughout high school and in the years following. From babysitting jobs, to being a daycare assistant, to working as a nanny, and then working at another daycare as the lead infant teacher. I knew that I wanted to work with babies. What I didn’t know however, was exactly what career choice involving babies I wanted to pursue. A turning point for me that made my interest to pursue nursing abundantly clear, was when I began working as a nanny for a family with a toddler as well as twin babies on the way. I not only got to help raise these babies from the time they were born, but also was given the privilege of working for their family even before they were born, when their mother was still pregnant. During this pregnancy that I witnessed, issues with the pregnancy took place. One of the babies was getting most of the blood supply, while the other was getting very little. Because of this, one of the twins was larger than the other. The smaller twin also ended up with a hole in her heart. Because of both of these factors, the parents were given the option to abort one of the twins (the smaller one), in an effort to save the other twin. Both of these twins miraculously survived, and were born premature. The twins spent some time in the NICU, because of complications involving their lungs. The exact moment that I knew I had to pursue nursing was when I first got to hold the premature twin baby girls I was nannying. The twins weighed only 3 and 5 pounds. They were so fragile and helpless that I knew I had a duty to do the best job as their nanny that I could, to keep them healthy and happy. I realized that I wanted to pursue nursing as a NICU nurse. I wanted to help as many newborn premature babies as possible, as well as help their parents during such a difficult time. I worked as a nanny for that family for 7 years, and have been given the luxury of being able to have watched those twin premature babies grow up, happy and healthy. Being able to witness premature babies from the time they are in the NICU, to them now being 9 years old 100% makes me sure about pursuing a career as a NICU nurse.