When I was nine years old, my father suffered a severe work injury and was diagnosed with dementia and Alzheimer’s. He could no longer work or manage our finances, and my mother took advantage of this. She withdrew from taking rent responsibility and misused his retirement income for herself, which is how our car became our new home. Due to the home-life instability, I was out of school while the foundational subjects were taught. When I returned, I felt lost because I did not know what others knew. Everyone jumped to the conclusion that I didn’t care about school because of my absences, but nobody asked why. I couldn’t be there because I had to take care of my dad, as my mother failed to do it. My father was sick but still managed to scold me about how important education was, and my mother did not care. As my father was getting worse and we needed somewhere to go, my mother, him, and I moved from New Hampshire to Texas into my late grandmother's house. My dad's sickness progressed, and my mother became further neglectful, so I went into foster care. This was the hardest change I've ever had to go through, mostly because I was no longer there to care for my dad. I longed for the day I could finally go home so I could see him again, but I knew the chances were low, especially when I got the news that he had passed away. I blamed myself for not being there for him in his final days, and I told myself he might still be here if I were home. I felt so much pain because I didn't save him from my mother. But I knew I had to live for him and make him proud. I turned my pain into motivation, even while I was struggling. I used school as a coping mechanism, began making straight A's, and carried this strategy with me into high school, when I was placed with my older sister in Maryland. After high school, I had to begin thinking about my life afterwards, and I told myself I wanted to go into Nursing because of my dad. I want to contribute to saving good and kind people like him, and save people who cannot save themselves. I want to make up for what I couldn't do for him and put his kind legacy into the world. Although I start Nursing school this fall, I have already begun working on my professional development towards this goal. I was a Student Nurse in California this past summer. I had many patients who were often scared not only because of their health conditions but also lack of familial support. They looked for someone they felt they could trust to confide in. I was able to do this because of the years I spent taking care of my father at a young age. Due to my personal experiences, I played the role of a caregiver, an educator, and a friend in times of need. I knew I made my father proud and achieved doing things I wanted to do for my dad when my patients thanked me for being a part of a positive hospital stay and for advocating for them when no one else would.

When I was nine years old, my father suffered a severe work injury and was diagnosed with dementia and Alzheimer’s. He could no longer work or manage our finances, and my mother took advantage of this. She withdrew from taking rent responsibility and misused his retirement income for herself, which is how our car became our new home. Due to the home-life instability, I was out of school while the foundational subjects were taught. When I returned, I felt lost because I did not know what others knew. Everyone jumped to the conclusion that I didn’t care about school because of my absences, but nobody asked why. I couldn’t be there because I had to take care of my dad, as my mother failed to do it. My father was sick but still managed to scold me about how important education was, and my mother did not care. As my father was getting worse and we needed somewhere to go, my mother, him, and I moved from New Hampshire to Texas into my late grandmother's house. My dad's sickness progressed, and my mother became further neglectful, so I went into foster care. This was the hardest change I've ever had to go through, mostly because I was no longer there to care for my dad. I longed for the day I could finally go home so I could see him again, but I knew the chances were low, especially when I got the news that he had passed away. I blamed myself for not being there for him in his final days, and I told myself he might still be here if I were home. I felt so much pain because I didn't save him from my mother. But I knew I had to live for him and make him proud. I turned my pain into motivation, even while I was struggling. I used school as a coping mechanism, began making straight A's, and carried this strategy with me into high school, when I was placed with my older sister in Maryland. After high school, I had to begin thinking about my life afterwards, and I told myself I wanted to go into Nursing because of my dad. I want to contribute to saving good and kind people like him, and save people who cannot save themselves. I want to make up for what I couldn't do for him and put his kind legacy into the world. Although I start Nursing school this fall, I have already begun working on my professional development towards this goal. I was a Student Nurse in California this past summer. I had many patients who were often scared not only because of their health conditions but also lack of familial support. They looked for someone they felt they could trust to confide in. I was able to do this because of the years I spent taking care of my father at a young age. Due to my personal experiences, I played the role of a caregiver, an educator, and a friend in times of need. I knew I made my father proud and achieved doing things I wanted to do for my dad when my patients thanked me for being a part of a positive hospital stay and for advocating for them when no one else would. Additionally, I found this scholarship on Bold.org.