I am fortunate in this lifetime to have many influences—my mother and her resilience, my uncle and his lengthy list of awards, my aunt who found joy in acting—but above all, my grandmother, Alma Ramsey, shines as the exemplary example of everything I desire to be. She was a Sigma Gamma Rho, a lifelong educator, a church deacon and elder, a community pillar, and the director of education for Head Start. A mother of five, she still found the determination to return to college and earn her master’s degree in 1977—at the age of 66. Her life was not only marked by service and leadership but by an unwavering belief in the power of education, family, and faith. Like her, I’m returning to school to finish what I started, completing my degree in graphic design and honoring the legacy of perseverance she left behind. My grandmother’s impact is visible in the way I serve my community through the arts. I am the founder and president of Black Artist Forward, a nonprofit in Cumberland County, NC, dedicated to empowering African American artists with access to grants, job opportunities, and professional development. We’re launching a microgrant program this year—the Thrive Fund—to help artists in emergency situations and unexpected transitions. I’m also developing a large-scale, immersive installation titled Onyx, which will take the form of a maze filled with suspended banner artwork, ancestral symbols, and photographic portraits. It explores adornment as a sacred practice—one that connects us to culture, healing, and identity. The exhibit will include a portrait station where guests can be styled and photographed, followed by miniature oil paintings created in real-time as keepsakes. Onyx is not just a visual experience; it’s a living space of cultural memory and communal reflection. After graduation, I plan to continue blending art and advocacy, creating spaces for minority artists to be seen, supported, and celebrated. My work bridges digital and physical forms—fine art, illustration, and design—with a focus on storytelling and cultural preservation. What makes my artistic voice unique is the way it’s rooted in lived experience, heritage, and healing. I don’t create just to be recognized; I create to reconnect people to themselves and their history. Like Christian ‘Myles’ Pratt, I am devoted to refining my craft and honoring the details that matter. Receiving this scholarship would not only help me complete my degree—it would affirm a generational dream and fuel the work I’m doing to uplift others through art.

Art is the language I was born speaking. Long before I had words for what I felt, I had lines, color, and rhythm. In college, a professor once asked, “What is art?” And the answer came to me—not as a definition, but as a feeling: art is the soul made visible. It's in everything we touch, design, or choose. A logo. A flyer. Even the blue on an office wall. Art is everywhere we decide to see it. I began as a painter—oil and watercolor—then moved into digital media, drawn to the challenge of blending fine art into everyday spaces. I once enrolled to study graphic design, dreaming of reshaping how the world experiences visual storytelling. But back then, I didn’t know my brain worked differently. ADHD, undiagnosed, drained my energy and buried my confidence. I dropped out and carried that failure like a quiet weight. Now I’m a mother, an arts advocate, and an organizer who helps other artists thrive. I’ve learned how to support my mind and nurture my calling. I’m ready to finish the journey I began—to earn my degree, not for prestige, but for power: the power to do more, serve more, and show my sons that healing and success are both possible. This scholarship would lift a heavy burden. I no longer qualify for aid, and as a single mother, every step forward must be carefully measured. But with support, I can finally walk this path without looking over my shoulder—creating, learning, and leading as the artist I was always meant to be. My sons proudly tell people, “My mom works in an art gallery.” I want them to say, “My mom earned her degree—and she never gave up.”

Twenty-four years ago, I graduated from high school and, following the guidance of my elders embarked on a college journey. However, I quickly found myself spiraling into a mental health crisis leaving school only one year into the program. This was 2001, and the transition to adulthood came with a myriad of responsibilities, from basic self-care to crisis management. Many things I had previously depended on my mother for. I was alone, overstimulated, and had not yet discovered the tools I needed as a young woman with ADHD. You see in 2001 mental health tools were not as accessible or socially accepted as they are today. It wasn't until 2024 that I was diagnosed with ADHD. In fact, because of my lack of diagnosis and tools, I ended up spending six years trying and failing to complete college, not understanding what was wrong with me. I knew I was smart enough, but I felt like I was trudging through the mud in each class. It was like each class assignment compiled with every physical need and mental lack I had, and I eventually gave up to forge my own path. I became resourceful, building a creative agency on my own that thrived for 11 years, and collaborating with remarkable organizations that awoke my desire to work in the nonprofit sector. Despite the odds, I became an advocate for artists and launched my non-profit, Black Artist Forward. At the time, I believed I had made the right choice, often declaring that college was unnecessary, using myself as proof. Yet, as a single mother, watching my children grow, I felt a deep sense of guilt for abandoning my education. Beyond financial stability, I wanted to model resilience and achievement for them, to teach them how to succeed. Now equipped with systems and resources to manage my ADHD, I am confident in my ability to not only complete my education but also to create a valuable resource for my children. My two inquisitive sons, Nehemiah, 11, and Orion, 6, brim with talent and potential. Nehemiah crafts intricate storylines for video games in his mind, while Orion devours history books, reciting facts about the Victorian era. I want to show them that while anything is possible, a college education can make the journey smoother. My goal is to demonstrate to them that achieving this is within reach. If their mom, with all her imperfections, can do it, so can they. Balancing my roles as a student and a mother, I prioritize quality time with my sons. Just as I do in my work, I balance the quiet time needed for study with engaging, exploratory activities. We enjoy walks in nature preserves, identifying plants, and spending hours in the library. Through these experiences, I aim to teach them the value of curiosity and learning. Beyond that, I can make them feel a sense of deep connection with me, with focused time shared together. Returning to college is not just about personal fulfillment; it's about setting an example for my sons, empowering them with the belief that they can achieve their dreams. This journey is as much for them as it is for me.