I didn’t always picture myself in STEM, but I’ve always known I wanted to help people. Losing both of my grandmothers and my grandfather to cancer changed the way I see health care forever. I saw how much fear, confusion, and hope families carry during medical appointments. I also saw how much it matters when a medical professional takes the time to explain things, show compassion, and help guide patients through the unknown. Those experiences are a huge part of why I’m driven to become an ultrasound physician. Right now, I’m a communications major with a kinesiology minor at the University of North Texas. My path may look different, but it reflects exactly what I bring to the table. Communication has taught me how to connect, listen, and speak with clarity, skills that are essential when patients are scared or overwhelmed. Kinesiology gives me the scientific foundation to understand the body behind the images I’ll one day interpret. Together, these strengths allow me to approach STEM with both technical curiosity and genuine empathy. Ultrasound is a field where technology and humanity meet. You’re not just capturing images, you’re often the first person helping a patient understand what’s happening inside their body. I want to be that person who explains things honestly, who brings comfort during tough moments, and who supports people the way I wish my own grandparents had been supported. Their experiences motivate me every single day to pursue this path and to be someone who makes a difference in the patient experience. As I’ve continued on this journey, I’ve realized that STEM isn’t just about science, but it’s about using knowledge to serve others. Every class I take reinforces how important it is to have healthcare professionals who care as much about the individual as they do about the diagnosis. I want to be the person who blends skill with compassion, who treats every patient with dignity, and who makes medical care feel less intimidating. Overall safe!! My goal is to show that women in STEM are not only capable but essential to pushing the field forward in a more human-centered direction. To be a woman in STEM, I also know how important representation is. Women bring perspectives that strengthen the field, especially in areas where communication, empathy, and precision matter. I want to help create a more inclusive STEM environment—one where young women feel confident pursuing careers they may have been told aren’t “for them.” I want to be proof that your journey can be unique and still lead you exactly where you’re meant to go. This scholarship would help ease the financial challenges of continuing my education, allowing me to stay focused on my goal without unnecessary stress. More importantly, earning this scholarship would show that my passion, dedication, and lived experiences matter—that I have something meaningful to contribute to STEM. I’m committed, motivated, and ready to make a real impact as a future ultrasound physician. Thank you for considering my application.

1: I grew up in a close-knit community around Dallas, where support, teamwork, and encouragement shaped who I am. Sports were central to my life; I ran in multiple events, swam for four years, and played soccer for two. These experiences taught me discipline, perseverance, and how to work with people from all backgrounds. When a hip injury forced me to step away from soccer, I shifted my focus to swimming and found new strength in adapting to change. I also volunteered many hours timing swim meets, which helped me understand the importance of service and showing up for others, even when you’re not in the spotlight. A major turning point in my life was the passing of my grandfather in New Orleans. Being able to say goodbye the day before he passed taught me how precious time is and how deeply people need compassion during vulnerable moments. That experience strengthened my desire to help others feel supported, understood, and empowered. Now, as a Communications major exploring kinesiology, I want to use my background in athletics and my personal experience with injury to help people rebuild confidence, restore their health, and realize their physical potential. Those values—empathy, resilience, and service—guide everything I hope to do. 2: Empathy, to me, is the ability to see people not just for what they are going through, but for who they are as human beings. It means listening deeply, understanding their fears and motivations, and recognizing the stories that shape them. My experiences in sports, volunteering, and personal loss have taught me how powerful empathy can be, especially in moments when someone feels discouraged, vulnerable, or unsure of their abilities. My own hip injury played a huge role in this understanding. I had to face physical limitations for the first time, and I felt the frustration and fear that come with not knowing if my body will bounce back. It made me realize how important emotional support is during physical recovery. Because of that, I want to pursue a health-related career in kinesiology, either as a personal trainer or a physical therapist. I want to be the kind of professional who understands both the physical and emotional challenges people face, especially when they’re dealing with pain, setbacks, or self-doubt. Empathy is essential in these careers because healing is never just physical. People need encouragement, patience, and someone who believes in their potential even when they don’t. A trainer or therapist who listens, adapts, and cares can make someone feel capable again. That connection can be the difference between giving up and pushing forward. Practicing healthcare through a human-centered lens means making every decision with the person, not just the condition, in mind. It means valuing their experiences, respecting their goals, and creating an environment where they feel heard and supported. In my future work, I plan to approach every client or patient as an individual with their own background, culture, and comfort levels. This includes adjusting communication styles, tailoring recovery or training plans, and making sure each person feels safe and understood. Human-centered care also means recognizing that progress looks different for everyone. Some people need slow, steady guidance; others need motivation and structure. My background in communications will help me build trust, ask meaningful questions, and communicate in ways that empower people to take charge of their wellness. Lastly, empathy in healthcare creates hope. My grandfather’s passing taught me that people remember how you made them feel valued. I want to bring that compassion into every interaction in my future career. Whether I’m helping someone regain mobility after an injury or guiding them toward a healthier lifestyle, I want my work to reflect kindness, understanding, and a deep belief in their strength.

The most defining moment of my life didn’t happen when I was at my best; it happened when I lost my grandfather. My grandfather lived in New Orleans, Louisiana, and his passing was the first time I truly confronted the permanence of loss. I was lucky enough to see him one final time, to hold his hand and say goodbye the day before he passed. That moment is something I’ll never forget: the quiet in the room, the heaviness of knowing it would be our last conversation. His death shook me in a way I didn’t expect. For a while, I felt lost. The person who always offered me wisdom, laughter, and encouragement was suddenly gone. In the weeks after his passing, I found myself reflecting on the things he taught me—not through words, but through the way he lived. He faced life with grace and generosity, always putting others first, and was incredibly witty and funny. Losing him made me realize how fragile time is and how important it is to live with intention. I began to see that strength isn’t just about what you can do physically, but how you rise after something breaks you. That realization changed everything for me. It shaped the way I approach challenges, relationships, and my future. It taught me to appreciate the present and to make a difference wherever I can. His passing gave me a deeper sense of empathy—a desire to help people heal, not just physically, but emotionally too. Now, as a Communications major at the University of North Texas, I’m exploring how to connect, motivate, and uplift others. I’m also considering a future in kinesiology to become a personal trainer or physical therapist. My background in sports and my own experiences with injury connect naturally to that path, but my grandfather’s loss gave it deeper meaning. I don’t just want to help people build muscle or recover from pain; I want to help them rediscover hope, resilience, and confidence. His death taught me that we all face moments that change us forever. But it also taught me that from loss can come purpose. I carry his memory with me every day—as motivation to live fully, love deeply, and help others do the same. Whether I’m encouraging someone to keep pushing in the gym or helping a patient take their first steps after an injury, I want to be a reminder that healing is always possible. My grandfather’s passing showed me that even in loss, there is light. It shaped me into someone who values connection, compassion, and perseverance above all else. And it’s the reason I want to dedicate my life to helping others rebuild theirs.

My story begins in a community that shaped who I am today. At Sachse High School, I grew up surrounded by support, encouragement, and opportunities that allowed me to thrive. High school was one of the most formative times of my life. I was deeply involved in athletics, competing in lots of runs, the swim team for all four years, and playing soccer for two. Sports gave me discipline, taught me teamwork, and pushed me to improve constantly. After a hip injury forced me to step away from soccer, I devoted myself to swimming. I also got many hours of volunteering as a timer for the high school swim meets that I did not swim in. Not long after high school, I faced a different kind of challenge when my grandfather passed away in his hometown of New Orleans, Louisiana. His loss reminded me of how quickly life can change, but I was grateful to have said goodbye the day before. That moment made me reflect on the value of time and the importance of using it to better the lives of others. Those experiences influenced my current direction in higher education. I am majoring in Communications at the University of North Texas and considering a future in kinesiology to become either a personal trainer or a physical therapist. My background in sports, combined with my own experience with injury, has inspired me to help others rebuild strength, recover from setbacks, and feel empowered in their bodies. I know firsthand how discouraging it can be to deal with pain or physical limitations. But I also know the joy and confidence that come from movement, progress, and perseverance. I really believe my purpose in life is to spread light and help others. So, as a personal trainer, I would use my communication skills to motivate and guide clients toward healthier lifestyles, creating fitness plans tailored to their goals. As a physical therapist, I would help patients recover from injuries, regain mobility, and rebuild confidence in themselves. Both roles allow me to combine technical knowledge with empathy, offering not just physical recovery but emotional support as well. My ultimate goal is to create a positive, lasting impact by helping people live stronger, healthier, and more fulfilling lives. My grandfather’s passing gave me a new perspective: life is short, but it can be lived with purpose. By choosing a career in kinesiology, I want to dedicate myself to giving people hope, strength, and a renewed belief in what their bodies are capable of. Whether it’s guiding someone through recovery or helping them achieve a fitness milestone, I want to be a source of encouragement and transformation in their journey.