There is no amount of planning that could have possibly prepared me for my senior year of college. I say this not as an homage to the intense workload that I’ve accrued, or the friends that I know I won’t see for decades at a time after this year’s end, but as a reflection of the cards that have stacked up against me and my pursuit of a degree. For the past three years I have attended Wheaton College as an English Writing major, and I have enjoyed every bit of it. I’ve taken creative writing courses that have challenged my creativity, social science courses that have encouraged me to seek love and reconciliation with the people around me, and theology courses that have challenged my Christian faith for the betterment of myself and my relationships. I’ve been able to work for the school’s library as a Writing Center Consultant and Blog Editor, and serve in campus ministry for almost three years, including the current one where I am Chair of the organization. All of this I could not have done without the financial support of my school and my family, but recently the latter has not been able to show up as much as they wish. I am the first child of a black, single mother who continues to fight for the rights and well-being of her family, even when her efforts are underappreciated or unnoticed. The summer before my senior year of college, she tried her utmost to bring family together to care for my grandmother, who had recently suffered from crippling domestic abuse, and my sister who was facing recurring and life-threatening anxiety. I had sat with her many times throughout the summer, mending the bloody bruises, locking up medications and sharp objects, and seeing her fight through her own mental and emotional battles. Everything culminated at the end of the summer, where a faulty claim by a medical professional put her in an ongoing battle with the Department of social services, keeping her from being able to work her job as a teacher. This is the reality that I’ve had to struggle with amidst papers, exams, and multiple jobs: being a 12-hour drive away from my family during the most heartbreaking moments of our lives. I want to be able to support my family, but everyday I’m reminded that my mother doesn’t suffer injustices so that I can quit in the middle of my last year of college. Just days ago she called to tell me that it mattered more to her that I follow the career I love than compromise and repeat the mistakes she made at my age. Nonetheless, all that she has gone through and is going through this year prevents her from being able to help me finish strong. I have been able to pay for the bulk of my food, and I have enough money to get myself back home for extended holidays, but I do not have nearly enough money to get the financial hold off of my school account that will allow me to continue my education and finish a Bachelor’s degree in a field that I’ve grown to love. Receiving this scholarship would allow me the financial support to help my family with expenses and ease some weight from the load that my mother has been carrying all this year. Thank you for considering my application.

There’s an album by Jill Scott that reminds me of Strawberry-kiwi Capri Suns and Keebler Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies. Almost every year of my childhood my mother and I would take a trip to Tennessee or South Carolina: thanksgiving was one of the few holidays that my family would gather for celebration. My mother and I would wait in anticipation for the 24th, or the 25th, or the 26th—whatever fickle number that landed on that latter Thursday. That day we would gather around a table with all the people we loved to eat delicious foods and play all kinds of games. Once a year I would see every competitive angle of my quietest cousins while gorging on the comfort food I knew I could only get at that time of year, like my great-grandmothers caramel cake. The recipe has been passed down generation-to-generation, landing in the hands of my mother. In preparation for Thursday, she would double over the stove with a spatula in hand; the entire house would smell of lemon, vanilla, nutmeg, and browning sugar. A favorite tradition of mine was turning the hand mixer’s whisks into popsicles after my mother finished the batter. My most prized memory, though, is the road trip there, when my anticipation would bubble to a boil. Munching on my cookies and drinking my Capri Sun, I’d recall all my favorite moments from former thanksgivings while my mom played her favorite artists on the stereo: Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. Those artists became a permanent part of my favorite memories and to this day they remind me of the joys of my childhood. Experiences like these are what fuel my love for art and what inspire me to become an artist. I wish to create stories and music that comforts the lonely and inspires the hopeless; art that reminds people of their favorite moments in life. Throughout high school, I have matured drastically in my artistic abilities, but in college I hope to continue what I had started as I chase a degree in English. In my major I will be able to develop an array of skills needed to begin my career, including technical and practical skills centered around literature, journalism, and creative writing. I believe that I have plenty of room to grow creatively, and I plan to use this scholarship to help me receive the training I need for optimal growth. The wisdom I gain from college is sure to guide me as I make my way around the creative industry as a writer and musician. My hope is that, one day, my music will be as influential to someone else as Jill Scott’s album was to me, and that my songs will hold for them a tapestry of nostalgic memories: family, games, and Capri Suns.

There’s an album by Jill Scott that reminds me of Straawberry-kiwi Capri Suns and Keebler Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies. Almost every year of my childhood my mother and I would take a trip to Tennessee or South Carolina: thanksgiving was one of the few holidays that my family would gather for celebration. My mother and I would wait in anticipation for the 24th, or the 25th, or the 26th—whatever fickle number that landed on that latter Thursday. That day we would gather around a table with all the people we loved to eat delicious foods and play all kinds of games. Once a year I would see every competitive angle of my quietest cousins while gorging on the comfort food I knew I could only get that time of year, like my great-grandmothers caramel cake. The recipe has been passed down generation-to-generation, landing in the hands of my mother. In preparation for Thursday, she would double over the stove with a spatula in hand; the entire house would smell of lemon, vanilla, nutmeg, and browning sugar. A favorite tradition of mine was turning the hand mixer’s whisks into popsicles after my mother finished the batter. My most prized memory, though, is the road trip there, when my anticipation would Bible to a boil. Munching on my cookies and drinking my Capri Sun, I’d recall all my favorite moments from former thanksgivings while my mom played her favorite artists on the stereo: Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. Those artists became a permanent part of my favorite memories and to this day they remind me of the joys of my childhood. Experiences like these are what fuel my love for music and what inspire me to become an artist. I wish to write and produce music that comforts those that feel alone and inspires others to move forward; songs that remind people of their favorite moments in life. I joined the Landmark Music Academy in hopes of realizing my dream, and jump starting my career. Though it has only been under two years, I have matured drastically in my artistic abilities. In college I hope to continue what I had started in Music Academy by majoring in Commercial Music Production. In my major I will be able to develop an array of skills needed to begin my career, including technical and practical skills centered around music theory, songwriting, and music production technology. I also hope to partake in internships with local music studios so that I can familiarize myself with the inner workings of the music industry. I believe that I have plenty of room to grow technically and artistically, and I plan to make use of the empty space by receiving higher education. I will use all of the skills and wisdom I gain from college to help me as I make my way around the music industry as a songwriter and producer. My hope is that, one day, my music will be as influential to someone else as Jill Scott’s album was to me, and that my songs will hold for them a tapestry of nostalgic memories: family, games, and Capri Suns.

There’s an album by Jill Scott that reminds me of Straawberry-kiwi Capri Suns and Keebler Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies. Almost every year of my childhood my mother and I would take a trip to Tennessee or South Carolina: thanksgiving was one of the few holidays that my family would gather for celebration. My mother and I would wait in anticipation for the 24th, or the 25th, or the 26th—whatever fickle number that landed on that latter Thursday. That day we would gather around a table with all the people we loved to eat delicious foods and play all kinds of games. Once a year I would see every competitive angle of my quietest cousins while gorging on the comfort food I knew I could only get that time of year, like my great-grandmothers caramel cake. The recipe has been passed down generation-to-generation, landing in the hands of my mother. In preparation for Thursday, she would double over the stove with a spatula in hand; the entire house would smell of lemon, vanilla, nutmeg, and browning sugar. A favorite tradition of mine was turning the hand mixer’s whisks into popsicles after my mother finished the batter. My most prized memory, though, is the road trip there, when my anticipation would Bible to a boil. Munching on my cookies and drinking my Capri Sun, I’d recall all my favorite moments from former thanksgivings while my mom played her favorite artists on the stereo: Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. Those artists became a permanent part of my favorite memories and to this day they remind me of the joys of my childhood. Experiences like these are what fuel my love for music and what inspire me to become an artist. I wish to write and produce music that comforts those that feel alone and inspires others to move forward; songs that remind people of their favorite moments in life. I joined the Landmark Music Academy in hopes of realizing my dream, and jump starting my career. Though it has only been under two years, I have matured drastically in my artistic abilities. In college I hope to continue what I had started in Music Academy by majoring in Commercial Music Production. In my major I will be able to develop an array of skills needed to begin my career, including technical and practical skills centered around music theory, songwriting, and music production technology. I also hope to partake in internships with local music studios so that I can familiarize myself with the inner workings of the music industry. I believe that I have plenty of room to grow technically and artistically, and I plan to make use of the empty space by receiving higher education. I will use all of the skills and wisdom I gain from college to help me as I make my way around the music industry as a songwriter and producer. My hope is that, one day, my music will be as influential to someone else as Jill Scott’s album was to me, and that my songs will hold for them a tapestry of nostalgic memories: family, games, and Capri Suns.

There’s an album by Jill Scott that reminds me of Straawberry-kiwi Capri Suns and Keebler Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies. Almost every year of my childhood my mother and I would take a trip to Tennessee or South Carolina: thanksgiving was one of the few holidays that my family would gather for celebration. My mother and I would wait in anticipation for the 24th, or the 25th, or the 26th—whatever fickle number that landed on that latter Thursday. That day we would gather around a table with all the people we loved to eat delicious foods and play all kinds of games. Once a year I would see every competitive angle of my quietest cousins while gorging on the comfort food I knew I could only get that time of year, like my great-grandmothers caramel cake. The recipe has been passed down generation-to-generation, landing in the hands of my mother. In preparation for Thursday, she would double over the stove with a spatula in hand; the entire house would smell of lemon, vanilla, nutmeg, and browning sugar. A favorite tradition of mine was turning the hand mixer’s whisks into popsicles after my mother finished the batter. My most prized memory, though, is the road trip there, when my anticipation would Bible to a boil. Munching on my cookies and drinking my Capri Sun, I’d recall all my favorite moments from former thanksgivings while my mom played her favorite artists on the stereo: Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. Those artists became a permanent part of my favorite memories and to this day they remind me of the joys of my childhood. Throughout all of my high school career, my family has struggled with financial difficulty. I found it extremely difficult to hold on to hope, so I began to use my music as a way to release my anxieties and give myself something peace of mind. The comfort I’ve experienced because of my experiences with music is fuel my love and creativity. The pain I’ve experienced from my financial troubles is what inspired me to become an artist. I wish to write and produce music that comforts those that feel alone and inspires others to move forward; songs that remind people of their favorite moments in life. My parents pulled every dime that they could so that I could attend Landmark Christian School’s Music Academy. They hoped that the program would help me realize my dream, and jump start my career. Though it has only been under two years, I have matured drastically in my artistic abilities. In college I hope to continue what what my parents started by majoring in Commercial Music Production. In my major I will be able to develop an array of skills needed to begin my career, including technical and practical skills centered around music theory, songwriting, and music production technology. I also hope to partake in internships with local music studios so that I can familiarize myself with the inner workings of the music industry. I believe that I have plenty of room to grow technically and artistically, and I plan to make use of the empty space by receiving higher education. I will use all of the skills and wisdom I gain from college to help me as I make my way around the music industry as a songwriter and producer. My hope is that, one day, my music will be as influential to someone else as Jill Scott’s album was to me, and that my songs will hold for them a tapestry of nostalgic memories: family, games, and Capri Suns.

I wrote the song Underwater when I was in a period of great distress and uncertainty. My family had been going through a hard time financial and COVID-19 was just around the corner. I decided the channel all the anxiety and uncertainty that I was feeling by putting it in a song.

There’s an album by Jill Scott that reminds me of Straawberry-kiwi Capri Suns and Keebler Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies. Almost every year of my childhood my mother and I would take a trip to Tennessee or South Carolina: thanksgiving was one of the few holidays that my family would gather for celebration. My mother and I would wait in anticipation for the 24th, or the 25th, or the 26th—whatever fickle number that landed on that latter Thursday. That day we would gather around a table with all the people we loved to eat delicious foods and play all kinds of games. Once a year I would see every competitive angle of my quietest cousins while gorging on the comfort food I knew I could only get that time of year, like my great-grandmothers caramel cake. The recipe has been passed down generation-to-generation, landing in the hands of my mother. In preparation for Thursday, she would double over the stove with a spatula in hand; the entire house would smell of lemon, vanilla, nutmeg, and browning sugar. A favorite tradition of mine was turning the hand mixer’s whisks into popsicles after my mother finished the batter. My most prized memory, though, is the road trip there, when my anticipation would Bible to a boil. Munching on my cookies and drinking my Capri Sun, I’d recall all my favorite moments from former thanksgivings while my mom played her favorite artists on the stereo: Lauren Hill, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott. Those artists became a permanent part of my favorite memories and to this day they remind me of the joys of my childhood. Experiences like these are what fuel my love for music and what inspire me to become an artist. I wish to write and produce music that comforts those that feel alone and inspires others to move forward; songs that remind people of their favorite moments in life. I joined the Landmark Music Academy in hopes of realizing my dream, and jump starting my career. Though it has only been under two years, I have matured drastically in my artistic abilities. In college I hope to continue what I had started in Music Academy by majoring in Commercial Music Production. In my major I will be able to develop an array of skills needed to begin my career, including technical and practical skills centered around music theory, songwriting, and music production technology. I also hope to partake in internships with local music studios so that I can familiarize myself with the inner workings of the music industry. I believe that I have plenty of room to grow technically and artistically, and I plan to make use of the empty space by receiving higher education. I will use all of the skills and wisdom I gain from college to help me as I make my way around the music industry as a songwriter and producer. My hope is that, one day, my music will be as influential to someone else as Jill Scott’s album was to me, and that my songs will hold for them a tapestry of nostalgic memories: family, games, and Capri Suns.

I was about eight years old, when I first discovered a love for music. Each year around Thanksgiving my mother and I would drive to South Carolina. For three hours my mom would jam to all of her favorite music while I sat in the back seat eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking a caprisun. She would play Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, Maxwell, and Beyoncé, and we would sing each song on her playlist until I was too tired to continue. I loved all the songs she played for me, but my favorite was one “Be Without You” by Mary J. Blige because of how fun it was to yell out “I can’t be without you, baby” during the chorus. Whenever my mom played it I would immediately sing along, even now I belt out the lyrics to the song when it plays. The music I listened to in those car trips with my mom influenced the music that I listen to now. My favorite genres of music are jazz, pop, neo-soul, and rock, most of which my mom would play as we made our way to South Carolina. The songs and artists my mom had me listen to when I was younger sparked my curiosity in music. I wanted to know how to sing well, play and instrument, and maybe even how to play some of the songs I listened to. As a result of my curiosity I took up piano. My first few lessons were monotone, my instructor taught me techniques and music theory but there wasn’t much playing yet. Around my fifth week of lessons I began learning a piece of music: “Don’t wanna’ Leave You Blues”. I couldn’t play the song well at first, so I had to practice repeatedly, but I got the hang of playing the song correctly after a while, and that achievement made me feel like I accomplished something. All the hours I spend learning and playing the pieces challenges me to be patient with my own mistakes, and it’s fulfilling being able to play something beautiful with my own two hands. I find happiness in learning and playing music because it makes me feel challenged and accomplished, so I want to explore it further by learning more theory and techniques. As of recently, I have been learning more about music theory and composition in a class called Music Academy, and all the information I’ve learned has helped me develop my understanding of music like “Be Without You” and “Don’t Wanna’ Leave You Blues”. Music has always been my everything and I hope to continue to build my skills throughout college.

I was about eight years old, when I first discovered a love for music. Each year around Thanksgiving my mother and I would drive to South Carolina. For three hours my mom would jam to all of her favorite music while I sat in the back seat eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking a caprisun. She would play Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, Maxwell, and Beyoncé, and we would sing each song on her playlist until I was too tired to continue. I loved all the songs she played for me, but my favorite was one “Be Without You” by Mary J. Blige because of how fun it was to yell out “I can’t be without you, baby” during the chorus. Whenever my mom played it I would immediately sing along, even now I belt out the lyrics to the song when it plays. The music I listened to in those car trips with my mom influenced the music that I listen to now. My favorite genres of music are jazz, pop, neo-soul, and rock, most of which my mom would play as we made our way to South Carolina. The songs and artists my mom had me listen to when I was younger sparked my curiosity in music. I wanted to know how to sing well, play and instrument, and maybe even how to play some of the songs I listened to. As a result of my curiosity I took up piano. My first few lessons were monotone, my instructor taught me techniques and music theory but there wasn’t much playing yet. Around my fifth week of lessons I began learning a piece of music: “Don’t wanna’ Leave You Blues”. I couldn’t play the song well at first, so I had to practice repeatedly, but I got the hang of playing the song correctly after a while, and that achievement made me feel like I accomplished something. All the hours I spend learning and playing the pieces challenges me to be patient with my own mistakes, and it’s fulfilling being able to play something beautiful with my own two hands. I find happiness in learning and playing music because it makes me feel challenged and accomplished, so I want to explore it further by learning more theory and techniques. As of recently, I have been learning more about music theory and composition in a class called Music Academy, and all the information I’ve learned has helped me develop my understanding of music like “Be Without You” and “Don’t Wanna’ Leave You Blues”. Music has always been my everything and I hope to continue to build my skills throughout college.

I walked into the office and my heart sank. Piles of bills laid strewn across the small table, each one stamped with dark red letters. Dozens of envelopes torn and marked with “Final Notice” and “Overdue”, words that seemed to grow as I stared at them in disbelief. My mother sat hunched over the monstrosities, her eyes sullen and her hands shaking. Her shirt was soaked in tears. The air around me thickened, every breath became a weight upon my lungs and panic rose within my throat. My chest burned as if pressed against a hot iron, my eyes stung as they welled, and my feet stuck to the floor as if tethered to the carpet. I had never before seen my mother undergo so much pain and suffering. I tried to think of something, anything, that I could say or do to comfort her, but I was barely keeping my own tears from falling. I struggled keeping myself from falling apart as I dragged my feet toward her and wrapped my arms around her. As soon as I walked back into my room I felt pain and panic wash over me. I felt like I needed to do more to help my parents but had no job, nor a license, so there weren’t many ways I could help to provide for my family. Tears I tried so desperately to fight against poured out of me, and they wouldn’t stop flowing. Even after the moment ended those feelings of sadness and uselessness continued to haunt the back of my mind. Some weeks later, in October of 2019, I had just got home from school. It was getting cold outside and I couldn’t wait to enjoy the warmth of home, but when I stepped inside it was freezing. I thought that the thermostat was just turned off or that somehow it wasn’t working, but neither were the case. I looked at my mother, confused, then she smiled apologetically, saying “I’m sorry but the power’s been cut off”. I could hear the torment in her voice as she spoke those words. She had been working so hard to provide for us, and I knew that. Her words caused panic to rise up to my chest and fear to fester in my stomach. Having and preparing enough food for the household was itself a task, but the absence of refrigeration would make it far more difficult. The scene from weeks before replayed in my mind, the monstrous red letters and the tear soaked shirt, and gloom formed a cloud over me. I was filled with uneasiness and uncertainty but I couldn’t do anything about it. Night time was cold and quiet. I sat with my family near the fireplace to keep warm. For a while we sat quietly, staring at the trees outside our living room window, there was no television or rechargeable phone to distract any of us. To pass the time, we made conversation and addressed our circumstances. My mom told us how she had been job hunting for months trying to provide income, how she works so hard to do the housework so that my siblings and I can focus on school, and how she wants the best for us no matter what. She comforted me, and told me that we were going to be okay as long as we had each other to count on. All my worry and sadness and pain began to dissolve, I felt warm and at peace. My mom managed to convince me that we would make it through our hardships, that I can trust her and have hope. She helped me to overcome my worries and fears by relying on the people around me for support. Though it was painful, the challenge that I faced helped me learn to overcome my fears and to trust in the people that care for me.