What makes me a “You Got It Girl” is my resilience, leadership, and refusal to give up—no matter the obstacles. I’ve faced challenges that could have broken me, but instead, I’ve used them to build strength. I am a survivor of ten years of childhood sexual abuse. I missed the first day of 7th grade because I was in court. I was diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, and depression—and still, I showed up. For my team, my classmates, and myself. Being a YGIG means fighting through the dark to find your light. It means being dependable, supportive, and strong even when no one sees the full story. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden of college, allowing me to continue pursuing a future where I uplift others the way my community and coaches have uplifted me. My primary sport is cheerleading, and I’ve been involved for several years in both sideline and competitive settings. Cheer taught me the value of confidence, teamwork, and community. I became cheer captain, a role that allowed me to lead warmups, motivate my team, and mentor newer members. It was about far more than chants and routines—it was about building trust and showing up, especially when others needed support. I’ve also been active in 4-H as club president and youth board representative, choir as section leader, and theatre. My work ethic and ability to bring others together led to me being honored as 2nd runner-up for Mint Queen in my city. One of the greatest challenges I’ve faced was testifying in court the summer before seventh grade after surviving ten years of abuse. I missed the first day of school and carried the emotional aftermath for years. While managing PTSD, anxiety, and depression, I still held leadership positions. There were days I could barely get out of bed—but I still showed up to practices, performances, and team events with a smile. Cheerleading became my lifeline. It gave me something to belong to and helped me find my voice again. I went from barely making eye contact to leading chants in front of the whole school. That transformation is the clearest example I have of turning pain into purpose—and I carry that strength with me into everything I do. Someone I admire deeply is my cheerleading coach. She acted as a second mother to me during some of the hardest years of my life. She pushed me to be my best while also being one of the most compassionate adults I’ve ever known. She saw my potential, even when I couldn’t, and always made me feel valued. Her belief in me helped me believe in myself—and that’s the kind of presence I now strive to be in others' lives. This scholarship would support me in powerful ways. My parents are not paying for college, and I’ll be relying on student loans to complete my degree in Elementary Education. I currently work at a public school daycare and am minoring in Theatre and Interpretation, with plans to pursue a master’s in Educational Leadership. Every dollar would help me continue this path—toward training, tuition, and success as an educator. My dream is to create a trauma-informed classroom where students feel safe, loved, and empowered to thrive. My story is not just about survival—it’s about using what I’ve survived to build something better; I’m working toward becoming the kind of leader and role model that young girls can look up to—just like my coach was for me. That’s what being a You Got It Girl means to me.

Some people grow up dreaming of becoming actors, doctors, or astronauts. I grew up dreaming of becoming a teacher—not because it was glamorous, but because it was healing. For me, the classroom was one of the only places that ever felt safe. Now, I want to return that gift by becoming a teacher who not only educates but also uplifts and empowers every child who walks through my door. I’m currently studying Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. Eventually, I plan to earn a master’s degree in Educational Leadership so I can advocate for trauma-informed practices and social-emotional learning across entire school systems. My goal is to create a classroom—and one day, a school—where all students feel safe, understood, and celebrated for exactly who they are. This passion is rooted in my own experience. I am a survivor of ten years of childhood sexual abuse. I missed the first day of seventh grade because I was in court. I’ve carried the weight of PTSD, anxiety, and depression through my most formative years. On top of that, my parents divorced when I was young, and I faced much of my healing during the isolation of the COVID-19 pandemic. Despite everything, I found hope and direction in the classroom—thanks in large part to the teachers who cared for me deeply, even when they didn’t know my full story. One of those teachers was my high school choir director. Her classroom was my refuge. She made space for my emotions, taught with compassion, and helped me find my voice—literally and figuratively. She believed in me during a time when I was struggling to believe in myself. Her impact on my life is one of the biggest reasons I now feel called to do the same for others. I’ve continued to serve others through my roles as cheer captain, choir section leader, 4-H club president, and Mint Queen 2nd runner-up in my city. Currently, I work at a public school daycare, where I help young children navigate their earliest learning experiences. Whether I’m tying a shoe, wiping tears, or celebrating a new skill, I am reminded every day of the joy and responsibility that comes with being a positive presence in a child’s life. Unfortunately, pursuing this path comes with financial challenges. My parents are not paying for my college education, and I will need to take out student loans to continue. Receiving this scholarship would relieve some of that burden and allow me to focus more on my training, development, and future students rather than the weight of financial stress. It would be more than assistance—it would be an investment in the kind of teacher I strive to become. Marie Humphries believed in the power of teaching to change lives. I feel that same calling deeply. I want to be the teacher who sees each child fully, who helps them feel safe, and who reminds them they matter. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. I hope to honor Marie’s legacy by being the kind of educator who makes a lasting difference—just like she did.

Teaching is more than a profession—it’s a promise to serve, to uplift, and to guide others toward a future they might not yet see for themselves. I’m pursuing a degree in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation, because I want to be that kind of teacher—one who leads with heart, teaches with purpose, and leaves a lasting impact that goes far beyond the classroom. Throughout my life, service has been a core value in everything I do. I’ve volunteered through 4-H as a club president and youth board representative, mentored younger members, organized events, and helped teach leadership and life skills. I’ve also served my community as a cheer captain and choir section leader, using those roles not only to lead by example but to support others emotionally, whether it was through encouragement, a listening ear, or simply showing up when someone needed a friend. My commitment to community earned me the honor of 2nd runner-up for Mint Queen in my city—an experience that recognized both leadership and service. Currently, I work at a public school daycare where I help guide early learners through their developmental milestones. Whether I’m tying shoes, reading picture books, or helping resolve playground disputes, I’m reminded every day of the power of patience, presence, and empathy. These small moments—like comforting a child who misses their parent or celebrating a new skill—are the building blocks of lifelong impact. I want my future students to experience that same sense of support and belonging every single day. My passion for teaching is also deeply rooted in personal experience. I am a survivor of ten years of childhood sexual abuse. I carry the diagnoses of PTSD, depression, and anxiety, and I’ve walked through courtrooms, therapy, and recovery all while trying to stay grounded in school. My parents divorced when I was young, and I navigated much of my healing journey during the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic. These experiences could have left me feeling broken—but instead, they ignited a fire in me to become the teacher I always needed: someone who sees the whole child, not just their academic performance. I want to be a safe space for children who are hurting, confused, or scared. I want them to know that even if life outside the classroom feels uncertain, school can be a place of consistency, comfort, and care. Beyond academic knowledge, I hope my students gain self-confidence, emotional intelligence, curiosity, and a sense of self-worth. I want them to grow into kind, thoughtful people who believe they can make a difference in the world—because someone once believed in them. Education should not just be a system that delivers standards—it should be a force for healing, for hope, and for human connection. That’s the classroom I plan to build. And that’s the legacy I hope to leave: one student at a time, one heart at a time. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship and for supporting future educators who want to serve with purpose and passion.

My name is Anna Hagerman, and I’m currently pursuing a degree in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. I plan to continue my education through a master’s degree in Educational Leadership, with the goal of creating classrooms—and eventually entire schools—where students feel emotionally supported, academically challenged, and unconditionally loved. I grew up in a low-income household, and I’ve learned firsthand what it means to work hard through adversity. At the core of everything I do is a deep commitment to giving back to others and making a meaningful impact. I want to become the kind of educator who helps children see their worth, discover their potential, and feel safe enough to truly learn and grow. This goal is deeply personal. For ten years, I endured sexual abuse—a trauma that followed me into my teenage years. I missed the first day of seventh grade because I was testifying in court. The emotional aftermath of that time led to diagnoses of PTSD, depression, and anxiety. A year later, COVID-19 arrived. Two years before the court case, my parents had divorced. These events collided and created what felt like a storm of isolation and fear. But in the middle of it, I discovered the power of resilience—and the power of people who care. Educators and mentors helped me heal. Choir gave me a voice. Theatre gave me courage. Cheerleading gave me strength. And volunteering gave me purpose. I’ve served as cheer captain, choir section leader, 4-H club president, youth board representative, and more. I was even honored as 2nd runner-up for Mint Queen in my city. Each leadership role taught me the value of showing up, working hard, and lifting others in the process. Currently, I work at a public school daycare, gaining hands-on experience with early learners. It’s reinforced my calling—there’s something so special about helping young children take their first steps toward confidence and independence. My dream is to build a classroom where social-emotional learning is embedded into the curriculum, bullying prevention is proactive, and students learn to care not only about academics, but about kindness, empathy, and community. Receiving the Kalia D. Davis Memorial Scholarship would mean the world to me. It would ease the financial pressure of continuing my education while honoring someone whose spirit clearly embodied excellence, service, and joy. Like Kalia, I believe in doing everything with heart—whether it’s leading a group, helping a child, or finding strength in the face of hardship. Her story inspires me to keep striving, to keep giving, and to leave a legacy not just in what I achieve, but in how I treat others. Thank you for considering me. With your support, I will continue living, loving, laughing, and learning—with the intention of passing those values on to the next generation.

What I want to build isn’t just a career—I want to build a classroom that changes lives. I want to create a space where children, especially those in their earliest years, feel safe, seen, and deeply cared for. A place where learning is joyful, where creativity is encouraged, and where each student knows they matter. I believe the classroom is one of the most powerful places for change to begin, and I’m dedicating my life to building one that reflects that truth. I’m currently studying Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. Eventually, I plan to earn a master’s degree in Educational Leadership. But my goal isn’t just to teach academics—it’s to teach emotional intelligence, kindness, and self-worth. I want to create a trauma-informed, inclusive classroom that meets students where they are, especially those who carry burdens bigger than their age. This mission is deeply personal. I am a survivor of ten years of childhood sexual abuse. I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and anxiety, and I learned early on what it’s like to feel invisible. But I also learned the power of one caring adult. A teacher who sees you. A mentor who listens. These small moments of connection helped save me—and now, I want to pay that forward. With my education, I will build more than a career. I will build relationships with students that validate their emotions and help them find their voice. I’ll build a classroom culture where mental health is supported, diversity is honored, and learning is a celebration, not a struggle. I’ll build trust with families, bridging the gap between home and school. And one day, I hope to build school-wide initiatives that center social-emotional learning and support for families in need. This work will not only impact me personally—it will ripple into the community. Children who feel supported in the classroom become more confident, empathetic, and engaged members of society. Families who trust their children are safe at school feel more connected and invested. A strong classroom can become the heartbeat of a stronger, more compassionate community. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. With your support, I can continue building the future I’ve dreamed of—one where every child walks into school and knows: “I belong here,” and truly believes it with their whole heart.

If I could create a class that every K–12 student was required to take, it would be called “Emotional Intelligence and Human Connection.” This class would focus on building self-awareness, empathy, conflict resolution, active listening, and emotional regulation—skills that are just as essential as reading or math, yet often overlooked in traditional education. In a world where students face increasing social pressures, mental health challenges, and cultural division, teaching emotional intelligence (EQ) from a young age could truly transform lives, classrooms, and communities. The structure of the class would evolve by grade level. In early elementary grades, it might involve naming emotions, learning how to handle big feelings, practicing kindness, and exploring healthy ways to express oneself. In upper elementary and middle school, it would expand into resolving conflicts peacefully, understanding diverse perspectives, and navigating friendships. In high school, it would cover self-advocacy, setting boundaries, communicating in relationships, and managing stress and mental health. The curriculum would be rooted in social-emotional learning (SEL) and trauma-informed practices, with a heavy emphasis on real-life application. Students would participate in open discussions, role-playing, reflection journals, mindfulness exercises, and collaborative problem-solving. Importantly, the class would be led by teachers trained in creating safe, inclusive, and emotionally responsive environments—because these conversations need to be handled with care. As someone who endured ten years of childhood sexual abuse, I know firsthand how vital emotional support and connection are. I was diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, and depression before even reaching high school. What helped me survive and grow was having adults—educators—who made space for my feelings and reminded me I wasn’t alone. That experience not only shaped my life, but also my passion for becoming a kindergarten teacher. I want to be the kind of educator who sees beyond behavior, who knows that every child has a story, and who teaches students how to navigate both their academic world and their emotional one. This class would change the way students show up for themselves and for each other. It would reduce bullying, improve peer relationships, increase self-esteem, and create safer, more empathetic school cultures. It would also equip students with tools they’ll carry into adulthood—helping them become kinder leaders, better partners, and more emotionally aware citizens. In addition to supporting emotional wellness, this class would help create a more inclusive environment for students with neurodivergent needs or trauma histories. Too often, children are labeled “difficult” or “disruptive” when they are really struggling with emotional regulation. A mandatory EQ curriculum would help normalize talking about feelings and remove the shame surrounding mental health. It would empower students to advocate for themselves and understand others better—building more compassionate classrooms where differences are respected and connection is prioritized. As future educators, we are not only teaching academics—we are shaping humans. We are preparing students for life outside the classroom. I believe a class like this could have a generational impact, not only making school a more positive place but also helping young people grow into adults who lead with empathy and strength.

If I could change one thing about education, it would be the way we respond to—and proactively prevent—bullying and trauma in schools. Education should be a safe haven, a place where every student feels valued, protected, and empowered to grow. Unfortunately, for many children, school is where they first experience cruelty, isolation, and the feeling that they are alone in the world. I want to help change that reality by advocating for and implementing social-emotional learning (SEL) initiatives as a central, non-negotiable part of school culture. My passion for this comes from personal experience. I survived ten years of sexual abuse, and the aftermath of that trauma shaped my adolescence. I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and anxiety. I missed my first day of seventh grade because I was in court, telling the truth about what had happened to me. Two years earlier, my parents had divorced. One year later, COVID-19 shut down the world. Throughout all of that, I was just a kid trying to stay afloat—and there were days I didn’t know if I would. What saved me was connection. It was the one teacher who noticed when I was withdrawn. It was the school counselor who gave me space to cry when I didn’t know how to speak. It was the choir room, the theatre stage, the daycare classroom—anywhere that gave me the freedom to just be without judgment. These moments didn’t erase my trauma, but they helped me survive it. And they planted the seed for my purpose: to become the kind of teacher who helps students feel seen, safe, and supported in every way. That’s why I believe SEL needs to be embedded in every classroom—not as an optional lesson or a single assembly, but as a daily, consistent priority. Social-emotional learning gives children the tools to identify their emotions, resolve conflict peacefully, practice empathy, and build confidence. When taught early and often, SEL can change the trajectory of a child’s life. It helps prevent bullying by fostering a culture of compassion and inclusion, and it gives students the language and courage to stand up for themselves and others. If schools had consistent SEL programs when I was younger, I believe I would have felt safer asking for help. I wouldn’t have spent so long thinking what happened to me was my fault. And I know I’m not alone in that. There are so many children carrying invisible wounds—children who act out, shut down, or struggle to connect because they’ve never been taught how to manage their feelings or ask for support. SEL gives them that foundation. Currently, I’m majoring in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. I also work at a public school daycare, where I get to witness early childhood development in action. These young learners are still forming their understanding of themselves and the world. They are learning how to share, how to ask questions, how to be kind. And every time I model patience, every time I help a child name a feeling or resolve a conflict without yelling—I see the future of education becoming more compassionate and connected. Eventually, I plan to earn a master’s degree in Educational Leadership so I can advocate for policy changes that support mental health and SEL from a systemic level. I want to be part of a new generation of educators who see students not just as test scores or behavioral reports, but as full human beings. I want to lead schools where kindness is taught as intentionally as math and where emotional intelligence is celebrated alongside academic success. Of course, there will always be challenges—budgets, time, staffing. But if we value student well-being as much as we say we do, then SEL should no longer be a luxury or an afterthought. It should be built into curriculum, modeled by every adult on campus, and supported through ongoing professional development. We cannot expect students to thrive academically if their emotional needs are unmet. Sierra Argumedo understood the importance of helping children feel seen and loved. Her life and legacy remind me why this work matters so deeply. I carry that same passion in everything I do. I want to be the teacher who remembers a child’s birthday, who notices the quiet kids, who holds space for big feelings and never makes a student feel small. I want to help build a world where no child suffers in silence and where every student learns how to treat themselves and others with compassion. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of continuing my education, but it would also honor the very mission I hope to carry forward. Like Sierra, I want to spend my life in service of students—protecting their hearts, nurturing their minds, and helping them discover the best in themselves and one another. With SEL at the center, I believe we can create schools that don’t just educate children, but empower them to grow into kind, courageous, and emotionally healthy adults.

One of the most defining and painful parts of my life is something I didn’t choose. For ten years, I was sexually abused—something no child should ever have to endure. The abuse ended when I was finally able to speak up, and the case went to court during the summer before seventh grade. I missed my first day of 7th grade because I was sitting in a courtroom, telling my story in front of strangers. That moment, though terrifying, marked the beginning of a long and difficult road toward healing. In the years that followed, I was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and anxiety. Simple things—like being in crowds, hearing certain sounds, or trusting people—became overwhelming. On top of that, my parents had divorced just two years before, and the world shut down due to COVID not long after. While other kids my age were worrying about classes and social media, I was learning how to survive trauma, go to therapy, and rebuild a sense of safety from the ground up. What kept me going was the belief that one day, I could take all the pain I had experienced and turn it into something meaningful. That’s what inspired me to pursue a career in early childhood education. I know what it feels like to be a child who doesn’t feel safe. I know what it’s like to carry burdens no one can see. And I want to be the teacher who recognizes that in her students and meets them with patience, compassion, and hope. Today, I’m majoring in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. I also work at a public school daycare, where I help young children learn, grow, and discover joy. Being around kids reminds me every day of why I chose this path—because every child deserves to feel protected, valued, and loved. Eventually, I plan to pursue a master’s in Educational Leadership so I can advocate for better trauma-informed policies in schools and support both students and educators on a larger scale. This hardship has shaped me in painful ways, but it’s also given me a deep well of empathy and strength. I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear and that asking for help is a form of courage. I’ve also learned how powerful it can be when someone simply shows up and cares—and that’s exactly the kind of educator I want to be. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of college, but it would also represent something greater: that who I am today—resilient, passionate, and determined—is not defined by what happened to me, but by how I’ve chosen to rise from it. I will use my past to better my future and to create a classroom where every child feels safe, seen, and inspired to dream big, no matter what they’ve been through.

From the moment a child walks into their first classroom, the world begins to expand for them in extraordinary ways. They learn to communicate, problem-solve, express their feelings, and trust others—all while discovering their own unique voice. That’s why I’m pursuing a degree in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. I believe early childhood is one of the most critical stages of development, and I want to help children feel excited about learning, confident in who they are, and safe to explore the world around them. What drove me to this field wasn’t just my love for teaching—it was my deep belief in the power of childhood. Kids are imaginative, resilient, and honest in ways that many adults forget to be. They say the funniest things, ask the most unexpected questions, and see the world with awe. I want to protect and nurture that light. I want to be the teacher who listens to their ideas, celebrates their creativity, and builds a classroom where they feel free to be exactly who they are. My current work at a public school daycare has only strengthened this calling. Every day, I get to see learning in action—when a child writes their name for the first time, helps a friend tie their shoe, or bursts into laughter over a silly story. In those moments, I’m reminded that supporting early childhood development isn’t just about teaching ABCs and 123s. It’s about guiding emotional growth, modeling empathy, and making learning feel like magic. I plan to support early childhood development by using play-based, inclusive, and emotionally responsive teaching strategies. I want to create a space where children of all backgrounds feel welcome and valued. My goal is to become a kindergarten teacher who integrates the arts, especially theatre, into everyday lessons so students learn to express themselves confidently and creatively. I also hope to eventually pursue a master’s degree in Educational Leadership, so I can advocate for systemic support for both children and educators. This scholarship would bring me closer to that dream by easing the financial burden of college and allowing me to focus more deeply on gaining the real-world experience I need. More than that, it would mean being supported by a community that believes, like I do, that children deserve to be heard and celebrated. Thank you for the opportunity to continue growing into the teacher I’ve always dreamed of becoming.

From the moment I stepped into a kindergarten classroom as a student, I knew school was more than just a place to learn—it was a place to feel safe, seen, and valued. That sense of belonging has shaped every step of my educational journey, and now, as a future kindergarten teacher, I want to give that same experience to the next generation. I believe teaching is one of the most powerful forms of service, and I’m committed to using my life to make students feel supported, inspired, and empowered. My passion for teaching began in early childhood, but it deepened through the mentors and teachers who guided me through challenging seasons. I’ve had educators who stayed after class to help me, who encouraged me when I doubted myself, and who reminded me that I was capable of achieving great things. Their belief in me changed the course of my life—and I want to be that person for someone else. I want to be the reason a student chooses to keep trying, keep learning, and keep believing in their own worth. I’m currently majoring in Elementary Education: Teaching PK–3, with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation. I plan to eventually pursue a master’s degree in Educational Leadership. My goal is to become a kindergarten teacher and a theatre director—a blend that allows me to foster academic growth while nurturing creativity, self-expression, and joy. I also work at a public school daycare, where I care for young children and assist in their early development. These daily, real-world experiences have only strengthened my desire to be in the classroom full-time. I was inspired not only by my teachers, but by my own experiences as a student leader. I’ve served as cheer captain, choir section leader, 4-H club president, and youth board representative. I’ve led teams, mentored peers, and represented my community as 2nd runner-up for Mint Queen in my city. These roles taught me how to lead with empathy and how important it is to show up for others. Whether I was cheering at a game or helping organize a 4-H event, I learned how impactful it is to simply care—and to act on that care. Like Dr. Reece, I believe in going the extra mile. That may mean staying after school with a struggling reader, running a school play to give students a creative outlet, or stepping into leadership to improve school culture. I’ve seen how education can transform not only individual lives but entire communities. I want to be a teacher who does more than teach curriculum—I want to be the kind of teacher who helps kids discover who they are and who they want to become. Coming from a low-income background, I understand the barriers that students—especially young children—can face. It’s part of why I’m so passionate about building safe and supportive learning environments. Many children carry burdens they don’t always have the words to express, and I want my classroom to be a refuge—where they’re not only learning, but healing, growing, and feeling seen. Receiving this scholarship would mean the world to me. It would allow me to continue pursuing my education without the overwhelming weight of financial strain. It would give me more freedom to focus on the hands-on experiences that will shape me into a more effective teacher. And most importantly, it would be a powerful reminder that I’m not alone on this path—that there are people, like Dr. Reece, who believe in supporting the next generation of educators. I hope to carry her legacy forward by being the kind of teacher who sees the whole child, who leads with love, and who believes in every student’s potential. Education changed my life—and I plan to spend my life giving that same gift to others. Thank you for considering me for this incredible opportunity.

As someone pursuing a degree in Elementary Education (PK–3) with a minor in Theatre and Interpretation, my ultimate goal is to become a kindergarten teacher and a theatre director. I also plan to pursue a master’s degree in Educational Leadership so that I can continue to grow and one day take on a leadership role within the school system. I believe that the earliest years of education are not only formative but foundational—and I want to create a classroom where children feel safe, seen, and excited to learn. Education is more than a career choice for me—it’s a calling. I’m passionate about building safe, inclusive spaces where creativity and curiosity are encouraged, especially for students who may not always feel like they belong. I want every child who walks into my classroom to know they matter and that they are capable of amazing things, even at a very young age. However, the rising cost of college makes that dream more difficult to reach. Tuition, textbooks, transportation, and living expenses quickly add up. I’ve always been resourceful and hardworking, but the financial strain is real. Receiving this scholarship would significantly relieve that pressure and allow me to focus more fully on my studies, classroom experience, and future as an educator. Instead of dividing my time between school and working long hours, I would be able to continue gaining experience through student teaching, volunteering, and childcare work—all of which directly contribute to the kind of teacher I strive to be. My background has prepared me to lead. I’ve been a cheer captain, choir section leader, and active participant in theatre. I was honored as 2nd runner-up for Mint Queen in my city, and I’ve served as both 4-H club president and youth board representative. Currently, I’m a public school employee, working in a daycare where I help care for and teach young children each day. These roles have shaped my work ethic, empathy, and commitment to service. They’ve also shown me how powerful a trusted adult can be in the life of a child. This scholarship would not only help fund my education—it would help fund the future classrooms I will lead. It’s an investment in a lifelong educator who is determined to give back to her community, one student at a time. I’m committed to making a lasting impact in Michigan’s schools and shaping the next generation with care, creativity, and heart. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity.