Pursuing higher education has been one of the most rewarding decisions I’ve made, but it hasn’t been a smooth or simple journey. One of the biggest obstacles I’ve had to overcome is the financial pressure that comes with being a college student without a large safety net. There have been moments when school expenses weren’t just tuition, they were books, fees, transportation, and the everyday costs that don’t pause just because you’re working toward a degree. When you come from a background where money has to be planned carefully, you learn quickly that staying in school takes more than motivation; it takes strategy and consistency. Another obstacle has been balancing responsibilities while trying to perform at a high level academically. There were times I had to work while managing a full course load, deadlines, and commitments outside the classroom. That balancing act can be draining because you’re always thinking about what needs to be done next. I’ve had to develop time management skills the hard way, learning how to plan ahead, use my time wisely, and stay disciplined even when I was tired or stressed. I also had to overcome moments of doubt, especially when I compared myself to students who seemed to have more resources or fewer responsibilities. I had to remind myself that my path is still valid, even if it looks different. Despite those challenges, I’ve stayed focused because I know what this opportunity represents not just for me, but for the people who come after me. My education is not only a personal achievement; it’s a tool I plan to use to create change. In the future, I want to give back by sharing knowledge and creating access. I’m passionate about financial education because I wasn’t taught investing or wealth building growing up, and I’ve seen how that information gap can limit people before they even realize it. I plan to use what I learn in business and finance to help students and families in my community understand budgeting, credit, saving, and investing in a way that feels practical and achievable. I also want to mentor younger students who are trying to figure out college and career paths with limited guidance. Sometimes what people need most is someone who can explain the process, encourage them, and show them what’s possible. My long term goal is to be in a position where I can support programs, workshops, and mentorship initiatives that give people the tools to build stability and long term wealth. I’ve overcome obstacles to get here, and I want my success to mean something beyond myself.

Growing up, I wasn’t taught investing. In my household, the focus was on getting by making sure bills were paid, food was in the house, and we handled whatever came next. Nobody sat me down and explained what a stock was, how compound interest works, or how to build wealth over time. Money conversations were usually about stress, not strategy. As I got older, I realized that lack of exposure wasn’t just my family’s situation it was common in a lot of communities like mine. That’s what planted the seed for who I want to become: an investment educator who makes financial knowledge normal, practical, and accessible. I’m a student who’s driven by both purpose and proof. I don’t just want to learn concepts for a grade, I want to understand how they work in real life. I’m naturally curious, and once I find something that matters to me, I lock in. Finance became that “something” because it gave me answers to questions I didn’t even know I was allowed to ask. Why do some people seem to have a head start? What are they doing differently? How can someone with an average income still build a strong future? The more I learned, the more I felt responsible to share it. I know what it feels like to start behind, so I want to be the person who helps others start sooner. As an investment educator, I plan to make a positive impact by teaching people how to make informed decisions, not emotional ones. Many people don’t invest because they think it’s only for the wealthy, or they’re scared of losing money, or they simply don’t know where to begin. My goal is to break investing down into clear steps and simple language, without judgment. I want to teach the foundation budgeting, emergency funds, credit, and saving, because investing isn’t just about picking stocks; it’s about having a plan. Then I want to teach the tools like retirement accounts, index funds, risk management, diversification, and long term thinking. Most importantly, I want to teach mindset patience, discipline, and consistency, because wealth is usually built slowly, not overnight. I also want to bring investment education into spaces where it’s rarely offered. That could mean hosting workshops at high schools, community centers, churches, and HBCU campuses. It could mean building online content that’s easy to follow, relatable, and focused on real world situations, like how to invest with your first job, how to start with small amounts, or how to avoid common financial traps. I want people to leave my sessions feeling empowered, not overwhelmed. I’m actively working toward this goal by strengthening my knowledge and staying involved in opportunities that build my credibility and communication skills. I’m intentional about learning how markets work, practicing how to explain complex ideas clearly, and putting myself in environments where I can grow professionally. I’m also learning that leadership is about service, and education is one of the strongest forms of service. At the end of the day, I want my career to change outcomes. If I can help one student start investing at 18 instead of 30, or help one family understand how to build generational wealth, that impact will multiply for decades. I wasn’t taught investing growing up, but that doesn’t have to be the story for the people who come after me.

Coming from a single parent, low income household taught me early that nothing is guaranteed you have to earn everything with consistency and grit. I watched my parent stretch limited resources to keep food on the table and still make sure I stayed focused on school. That environment forced me to become disciplined and solution oriented. When challenges came up transportation issues, financial stress, or needing to work while balancing classes, I learned how to adapt instead of making excuses. Perseverance wasn’t a motivational quote for me; it was a daily choice. Because of that background, I don’t just want success for myself, I want to create access for other students who grew up like I did. I plan to use my education in business management and my interest in finance to help my community understand money, opportunity, and long term planning. Whether it’s mentoring younger students, helping families learn budgeting basics, or supporting programs that connect students to internships and scholarships, I want to be someone who opens doors and shows others what’s possible. I’m actively working toward my goals by staying focused on academics, pursuing professional development opportunities, and building real-world experience through internships and leadership programs. I’m intentional about networking, sharpening my skills, and taking advantage of every resource PVAMU offers so I can graduate prepared and come back and pour that knowledge into others.

The teacher who has most profoundly influenced me is Professor Kennebrew, a Business Management professor at PVAMU. From the first time I sat in his class, it was clear he wasn’t only focused on whether students could memorize concepts, he cared about whether we could apply them, communicate them, and carry ourselves like future professionals. He taught in a way that challenged me to think bigger than the assignment and take ownership of the kind of leader I’m becoming. One of the most valuable lessons I gained from Professor Kennebrew is that professionalism is not something you “turn on” after graduation it’s something you practice every day. He paid attention to details that many people overlook: how we wrote emails, how we presented our ideas, how we showed up to class, and how seriously we treated deadlines. Instead of letting excuses slide, he pushed us to build habits that match the real world. That lesson changed how I approach my work. I learned that discipline isn’t just about being strict; it’s about respecting your goals enough to do what needs to be done even when you don’t feel like it. Professor Kennebrew also taught me the importance of critical thinking and accountability. In his class, it wasn’t enough to give a surface level answer. He would ask follow up questions that forced you to explain your reasoning, connect ideas, and defend your choices. At first, that pressure made me uncomfortable because it exposed where I was guessing instead of knowing. Over time, I began to appreciate it because it made me stronger. I learned to prepare thoroughly, to speak with clarity, and to take feedback without taking it personally. He taught me that growth requires humility being willing to learn, adjust, and improve. Another life lesson I gained from him is that leadership is built through consistency, not titles. Professor Kennebrew emphasized that leaders set the tone, whether they are in charge or not. They communicate clearly, take responsibility, and show up for their team. That mindset has shaped how I contribute in group projects and how I plan to carry myself in student organizations and professional settings. Instead of waiting to be “picked” as a leader, I’ve learned to lead through my actions. These lessons will guide my experiences at PVAMU because they give me a framework for how to move through college with purpose. I will continue to hold myself to high standards, manage my time responsibly, and treat every opportunity whether it’s an internship, a group project, or a campus job as training for my career. I will also use Professor Kennebrew’s emphasis on critical thinking to approach my coursework with more depth, asking better questions and connecting what I learn to real world business situations. Professor Kennebrew has influenced me by showing me what it looks like to expect more from yourself and others in a way that builds confidence, not fear. Because of him, I see PVAMU not just as a place to earn a degree, but as a place to develop the habits, mindset, and character that will shape my future.

Being a first-generation college student, to me, means learning how to climb a ladder that no one in my family has ever even seen before, and still choosing to climb it anyway. I grew up knowing that college was the goal, but no one could really tell me what that actually looked like. There was no older sibling to walk me through FAFSA, no parent who could explain office hours or internships. I had to figure out how to apply, how to register, how to stay enrolled, and how to balance it all mostly on my own. That has been both the hardest and most empowering part of my journey. Some of my biggest challenges have been financial and mental. Financially, I’ve had to work while being a full-time student just to help cover school and living costs. That has meant late nights, early mornings, and sometimes doing homework on breaks. Mentally, I’ve fought through imposter syndrome walking into rooms where I’m the first in my family, sometimes one of the few students of color, wondering if I really belong. What’s helped me overcome those moments is remembering why I started: I’m not just here for myself, I’m here for my family and for the next first-generation student watching me. Over time, I’ve learned to turn those challenges into fuel. I ask more questions, seek mentors, and put myself out there for opportunities, internships, leadership roles, and programs that stretch me. Every step has taught me that I can figure things out, even when I don’t have a roadmap. My dream is to build a career in business and finance, especially in areas like investing and economic development, so I can help create opportunities for communities like the one I grew up in. I want to be in a position where I’m not just earning a good salary, but using my skills to help families better understand money, build wealth, and access opportunities they’ve never had before. Long-term, I see myself mentoring other first generation and HBCU students, opening doors that were once closed to people like us. This scholarship would move me closer to that vision in a real, practical way. It would lessen the pressure to work so many hours, allowing me to focus more on my classes, professional development, and leadership activities. It would help me cover tuition, books, and other school expenses without needing to take on as much debt. Most importantly, it would give me a little more breathing room space to think, plan, and grow instead of constantly worrying about how to make ends meet. Being first-generation student means carrying both the weight and the hope of my family’s future. I don’t take that lightly. I’m determined to graduate, build a meaningful career, and then turn around and lift others up. This scholarship wouldn’t just support my education; it would be an investment in everything and everyone I hope to impact along the way.

Chosen Paragraph “You have power over your mind not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations In this sentence, Marcus Aurelius argues that real strength does not come from controlling what happens to us, but from controlling how we think about what happens and that accepting this limit is the starting point of genuine freedom. Marcus begins by drawing a sharp boundary, “You have power over your mind not outside events.” The core move here is separation. He asks the reader to divide the world into two categories, what is truly within our control and what is not. Most of us live as if this line is blurry. We worry about other people’s opinions, the job market, the weather, or random luck, as if more worrying or planning could somehow give us control over them. Marcus’s underlying point is that this confusion is the source of a lot of our misery. If we keep investing emotional energy into things that, by definition, we cannot command, we end up exhausted and disappointed. When he says “power over your mind,” he is not talking about vague positive thinking. In Stoic terms, the “mind” is mainly our capacity for judgment how we interpret events. An insult, for example, is only an insult if I decide to take it that way. A failure is only a permanent label on my character if I agree to see it as one. The event itself is just words or outcomes. The meaning comes from the story I attach to it. Marcus is pointing to that exact zone of freedom, I may not control what others say or what happens in the economy, but I do control the story I tell myself about those things. Strength, in his view, is the trained ability to rework that story instead of trying to rewrite the facts of reality. The phrase “not outside events” is equally important. He could have left that part out and simply praised the mind, but he deliberately brings in what we don’t control. That contrast exposes a common mistake: we confuse influence with control. I can influence my grades by studying, but I cannot guarantee a specific curve or a professor’s mood while grading. I can influence a relationship by communicating well, but I cannot control how the other person feels. Marcus wants us to accept that gap. The hidden claim is that emotional stability depends on where we choose to anchor our sense of agency. If I anchor it in outcomes, which depend partly on outside events, my peace will rise and fall with every change in circumstances. If I anchor it in my own judgments and efforts, I become more stable, because those are always up to me. In the second part of the sentence “Realize this, and you will find strength” Marcus shifts from description to condition. Strength is not automatic; it is the result of a “realization.” That verb signals something deeper than just agreeing with the idea. Plenty of people will casually say, “Yeah, I know I can’t control everything,” and then immediately lose sleep over things they cannot possibly change. Marcus is talking about a realization that sinks down into habit. The real test is what happens in the moment when things go wrong. Do I react by trying to grasp tighter at the external situation, or do I pause and ask, “What here is actually mine to govern?” His sentence suggests that the second response is what unlocks strength. The kind of strength he promises is also worth unpacking. It is not the strength of domination or winning every contest. A person could be powerful in the usual sense rich, famous, physically strong and still be mentally fragile, constantly thrown off by criticism, minor inconveniences, or loss. The strength Marcus points to is more like inner steadiness. If I train myself to focus on my own judgments and choices, I am less vulnerable to the chaos of outside events. I can still feel pain, disappointment, and fear, but I am not ruled by them. Underneath the line, Marcus is saying that resilience is a skill, not just a personality trait, and that the core of the skill is the ability to shift attention from what I wish I controlled to what I actually do control. This sentence also quietly challenges a modern idea of freedom. Today, we often define freedom as having more options and fewer constraints. Marcus gives a different definition, freedom is seeing reality clearly and working with it instead of fighting it. Telling someone “you don’t control outside events” can sound limiting at first, almost pessimistic. But his point is that pretending we control what we don’t is actually more limiting, because it traps us in frustration and blame. Once we accept the structure of the world that some things are simply not up to us, we can stop wasting mental energy on impossible tasks like redoing the past or forcing other people’s reactions. That acceptance doesn’t make life smaller; it frees up energy to improve the one area where progress is always possible: our own character. There is an ethical dimension to this, too. If my real power is over my mind, then my main responsibility is to cultivate it. That means watching the beliefs I allow to live in my head, the narratives I repeat, and the values I choose to live by. Marcus’s sentence quietly moves us away from a mindset of blaming others toward one of accountability. Someone may genuinely wrong me, but my response whether I become bitter, seek revenge, forgive, or learn is my own work. The underlying meaning here is not that outside harm doesn’t matter, but that my deepest dignity lies in how I respond, not just in what happens. At the same time, Marcus is not suggesting that we withdraw from engagement with the world. He was an emperor; his life was full of decisions that affected millions of people. Knowing that you cannot control outside events does not mean shrugging at injustice or refusing to plan for the future. Instead, it changes the standard by which you measure yourself. From this perspective, success is not defined by whether everything goes your way, but by whether you acted according to your principles, did your best with what you had, and kept your mind aligned with reason and integrity. You fight for what is right, but you do not tie your entire identity to the outcome of that fight. Finally, the form of the sentence matches its content. It is short, direct, and stripped of decoration. There are no excuses or comforting side notes. That bluntness is part of the lesson. To have “power over your mind” is, in part, to stop hiding behind complicated explanations and face the simple, uncomfortable truth about what you can and cannot control. The sentence itself feels like a mental exercise: first, draw the boundary; second, accept it; third, act within it. In that sense, the line is not just something to agree with but something to practice, again and again, in daily life. Taken as a whole, Marcus’s sentence is not a soothing quote to post on social media. It is a demanding instruction. He asks the reader to give up the fantasy of total control and to take full responsibility for their inner life instead. His underlying claim is that the moment we truly accept this trade less illusion about the outside world, more effort spent on our own judgments is the moment we stop living as victims of circumstance and start discovering a steadier, quieter kind of strength.

When I was younger, I thought investing just meant rich people picking random stocks on TV. It wasn’t until I watched my family stress over bills and unexpected expenses that I realized how powerful it could be to actually understand money and how different our lives might look if someone had taught us earlier. That curiosity is what fuels my plans for the future. My long-term goal is to become an investor and financial educator who focuses on everyday people, especially in communities like my hometown. I want to learn how to analyze companies, understand markets, and build long-term portfolios not just for myself, but so I can break those ideas down into simple, practical lessons. I see myself working in finance by day while building community programs in the evenings and on weekends. One of my biggest dreams is to create a free investing and financial literacy program back home. I picture high school and college students learning how to budget, avoid predatory debt, buy their first shares of stock, and think about long-term goals like retirement or starting a business. I want to host workshops where people feel safe asking basic questions without being judged. I know how it feels to want better but not know where to start, and I don’t want the next generation to feel that way. This scholarship would directly support those goals by easing the financial pressure I’m under as a student. Right now, a lot of my energy goes into working and just keeping up with expenses. With this support, I could focus more on my coursework, pursue internships in investing or asset management, and spend time building the curriculum and structure for the program I want to launch. It would also help me save for professional exams and certifications that will make me more credible when I stand in front of a room and say, You can do this, too. At the end of the day, I don’t just want to “make money.” I want to change the relationship my community has with money. This scholarship would not only move me closer to a career in investing it would help me turn that knowledge into something bigger than myself, a program that opens doors for people who were never taught how to make their money grow. I want to be the person I wish my younger self had met someone who turns confusion into confidence and fear into a clear, hopeful plan.

Every day, I try to live out the qualities I say I value, not just list them on a resume. My strong leadership and communication skills show up in how I move through class, work, and campus life. At Prairie View A&M University, I’m often the one who organizes group projects, starts the group chat, and makes sure everyone understands the goals and deadlines. I’ve also had to communicate clearly with recruiters, mentors, and teammates through leadership conferences, case competitions, and career programs. Whether it’s sending a professional follow-up email, leading a study or prep session, or asking thoughtful questions in a networking conversation, I’ve learned that good communication starts with listening and ends with action. Being resilient shows up in my routine more than in any big moment. Balancing a full course load with interviews, leadership roles, and competitions hasn’t been easy. I’ve had late nights, tough grades, and positions I really wanted that didn’t work out. Instead of letting those moments define me, I use them as checkpoints. I look at what I could have done better, adjust my approach, and try again. My habit of showing up even when I’m tired, reworking assignments after feedback, and staying committed during busy weeks is how my resilience looks in real life. I try to be unselfish with what I’ve learned. When I find a scholarship, internship, or resource that could help someone, I pass it along. Friends and classmates know they can send me their resume, cover letter, or LinkedIn profile and I’ll take time to review it. I remember what it felt like to be unsure where to start, so I don’t want anyone around me to feel like they’re going through this process alone. My focus and determination show up in how I plan my days and protect my time. I keep a running list of assignments, applications, and upcoming deadlines, and I break larger tasks into smaller steps. If I have an exam, I start early and review in sections; if I have an interview, I research the company, practice questions, and study the industry. There are days when I’d rather relax or scroll my phone, but I remind myself of my long-term goals and push myself to do the work anyway. A strong work ethic ties all of this together. I take pride in being someone people can count on. That means showing up prepared, meeting deadlines, and putting in effort that reflects my name and my university. I don’t like turning in anything halfway done, so I double check my work and push myself to go beyond the bare minimum, whether anyone is watching or not. My future goals are to build a career in finance and consulting, possibly in energy or commodity markets, where I can help organizations make smarter decisions and open doors for others who come from similar backgrounds. I’m pursuing my business degree because I see it as a foundation giving me quantitative skills, problem solving tools, and the professional credibility I need to step into those roles. To me, leadership is about responsibility, not status. A leader sets the tone, serves others, and uses their position to create opportunities. Leadership means doing the work, being honest, and making sure that when you move forward, you bring other people with you. That’s the kind of leader I try to be every day.

If I’m given the opportunity to invest back into my community, I want to turn the kind of help I had to go search for into help that is easy to find. For me, “community” is my HBCU, Prairie View A&M University, the younger students coming behind me, and the families at home who are still trying to figure out how to turn hard work into stability and options. The first thing I would do is build a structured pipeline from our campus to high-impact careers in finance, consulting, energy, and sports business. A lot of talented students at PVAMU don’t lack ambition; they lack information, exposure, and confidence. I would organize a student-led “Pathways to Possibilities” program with three pillars: exposure, skills, and access. For exposure, I would use the relationships I’ve built through programs like the TMCF Leadership Institute, AfroTech, energy trading competitions, and internships to bring employers to us virtually and on campus. That means monthly career labs with panels, office hours style Q&A, and virtual site visits so students can actually see what these jobs look like day to day. For skills, I would host practical workshops that teach what doesn’t always show up in the classroom: how to structure a stock pitch, how to walk through a case interview, how to tell your story on a resume, and how to prepare for technical and behavioral interviews. I’d make it peer-led as much as possible, so students see people who look like them and share their experience. For access, I would set up a mentoring ladder: seniors and interns mentoring sophomores and juniors, and those students reaching back to freshmen and local high school students. Alongside that, we would build a shared bank of resources recruiter contacts, scholarship lists, interview guides, and internship trackers so nobody has to start from zero the way so many of us did. The second thing I would focus on is financial literacy for students and their families. I know what it feels like to google scholarships late at night, to worry about loan balances, and to try to decode HR language about salary and bonuses. I would partner with local churches, community centers, and campus organizations to host “Money & Momentum” sessions that cover budgeting, credit, student loans, and first job decisions in plain language. The goal wouldn’t just be to avoid debt; it would be to help families think about building wealth and using education as a launching pad, not a burden. Finally, I would help create more entry points into sports and energy careers, because those industries often feel closed off to students who don’t already have connections. Using what I’ve learned from sports and energy related programs, I’d help launch an annual “Business of Sports & Energy Day” on campus with panels, a small trading simulation, and an operations case challenge so students can see themselves in those worlds. This is important to me because I don’t want to be the exception; I want to be part of a new normal. Every opportunity I’ve been blessed with leadership conferences, internships, and offers has shown me what is possible when someone opens a door. Improving my community means becoming that person for someone else, so that talent and potential are never wasted just because opportunity was too hard to find.

I plan to build a career at the intersection of finance, consulting, and energy using rigorous, data-driven insight to expand opportunity and design smarter, more sustainable economies. I want to be the kind of leader who can read a balance sheet, advise a client, and still make room at the table for the next HBCU student who reminds me of myself. I believe success matters most when it becomes a door, not a spotlight. Being Black, to me, is carrying both history and hope. It is the rhythm of resilience and invention passed down by people who turned barriers into blueprints. Excellence isn’t optional; it’s my inheritance. That truth pushes me to move with purpose, meet pressure with preparation, and lead with integrity even when no one is watching. I chose an HBCU because I wanted an environment that saw potential before my circumstances, a place where excellence is expected, culture is celebrated, and leadership is trained every day. Prairie View A&M University gave me more than lectures and labs; it gave me community, identity, and the confidence to walk into any room knowing I belong. My HBCU taught me that representation is power. With my voice, my craft, and my career, I intend to multiply that power so the students coming behind me don’t just imagine a seat, but instead claim one, and then build more.

During the early days of the pandemic, I found myself back home in Dallas. Classes had moved online, and everything felt uncertain. One afternoon, my grandmother mentioned that many of her friends in the senior living center nearby were scared to leave their apartments, even just to buy groceries. That stuck with me. So I posted a note on their bulletin board offering free grocery runs and pharmacy pickups. What started with one trip for Ms. Geraldine’s bread and vitamins turned into weekly errands for over a dozen seniors. I coordinated schedules, handled money with care, and made sure no one ever felt like a burden. What I thought would be a temporary act of service became a yearlong rhythm. They would wait for me at their doors just to talk for a few minutes. I didn’t realize how much they missed connection until I started showing up. Through this, I learned that community is not just about where you live; it is about how you show up. These were not just errands. They were reminders that someone cared, even when the world felt like it was shutting down. In return, they taught me patience, perspective, and how to slow down and actually listen. Being part of that small but deeply connected group taught me that hope does not always look like big breakthroughs. Sometimes it looks like showing up every Tuesday with bananas, milk, and a smile. That season gave me a deeper sense of purpose and reminded me that resilience is often quiet but powerful. It is why I am more committed than ever to using my education to give back to build systems, programs, or even businesses that center people first. If a grocery run can build trust, imagine what we can do when we truly invest in our communities.

When I was 14, I helped my mother sell homemade candles at a local flea market in South Dallas. We didn’t call it a “business,” but looking back, that table covered in wax-stained cloth was my first lesson in entrepreneurship. I watched how her creativity and grit turned a small idea into real income, enough to help pay bills when times were tough. That experience opened my eyes to the power of business as a tool not just for profit, but for survival, dignity, and ultimately, transformation. Today, as a senior business management major at an HBCU, my vision is to create systems that allow stories like my mother’s to become the rule, not the exception. I believe economic empowerment and business innovation are essential for uplifting underrepresented communities, especially Black and brown neighborhoods that have long been excluded from access to capital, quality education, and opportunity. True economic empowerment begins with education and ownership. Too often, underrepresented communities are kept out of the loop when it comes to financial literacy and entrepreneurial strategy. Through my studies and experiences, I’ve learned how business can be used not just to generate income, but to build community wealth. I envision a future where business accelerators are built within urban schools, where minority owned startups receive real mentorship and funding, and where technology is leveraged to democratize access to markets. Business innovation also plays a key role in creating lasting change. In a world dominated by automation, artificial intelligence, and e-commerce, underrepresented communities deserve a seat at the table of innovation. I want to help build that table. Whether it’s launching mobile platforms for minority freelancers, investing in sustainable local food systems, or supporting tech education for inner-city youth, my goal is to make innovation accessible, equitable, and community-driven. My career goal is to become a strategic consultant and eventually an investor focused on social enterprises. I want to help small business owners scale their ventures in ways that create jobs, retain cultural identity, and circulate dollars within their communities. Long-term, I aim to establish a fund that backs minority-led businesses with not just capital, but mentorship and ecosystem support. To me, business is not simply about maximizing shareholder value it’s about maximizing human potential. This scholarship will help me continue my education, deepen my understanding of ethical leadership, and sharpen the tools I need to serve. As I prepare to graduate and step into the world of business, I carry with me not just textbooks and case studies, but the memory of that flea market table and all it represents. In the end, economic empowerment is about ownership of businesses, of futures, and of the narratives we write for our communities. Through business innovation, I believe we can build systems that don’t just create wealth, but restore justice. I’m committed to being part of that change.

I'm not passionate about much, but I will always have a passion for sports, and here's why. Sports is the most excellent form of entertainment and competition ever invented. My first reason for loving sports is that I love all of the steps that go into a game or a match and watching it all pay off in the end. Another reason I love sports is because of the competition factor; I love to watch two completely different systems match up and go back and forth until the best comes out on top. Also, sports are just simply there for you when you are in any mood, happy, sad, excited, etc. Lastly, I love how different sports can bring people together no matter how you look, where you're from, or what you believe in. It's a beautiful thing; sports will continue to strive and have a more significant impact on many more people's lives in the future

One of my favorite pleasures is I really enjoy working out and exercising, and here's why. First, working out helps me stay in shape and is very important for my health and wellbeing. Another reason working out is a pleasure of mine is because while you're doing it, you're not worried about anything else in the outside world; I put my earbuds in and listen to my music, and I'm just focused on completing the workout session. Also, working out gives me a feeling of relief when I have completed my exercises for the day, and there's no feeling like it. Lastly, I enjoy how working out teaches me about myself and helps me bring out the best version of myself during every workout I do; it teaches me hard work, grit, and self-control. In conclusion, those are some of the main factors why working out is my favorite pleasure that affects my daily life.

Making timeless music beat , I’m improving on this by watering my seed (which is beats) everyday until I have the best timeless music.

Giving them something that will help them for a long period of time and not just for that short period of time your helping them.

The thought of waking up 5 years from now and being truly happy.

I can control my destiny I just have to keep taking steps forward to achieve it.

Someone who was looked at as a person who wanted to see any and everybody accomplish they’re dreams.

We are much stronger if we come together than we are divided.

Happinesses is the most important, but yet the most ignored piece of life. A time I was happy was when my entire family was on a cruise and there was nothing to worry about, but of course I didn’t realize I was happy until after the moment was gone. As I look back on the trip some of my family members on the trip passed away and some I haven’t seen in a long time, that’s why now I try my hardest to stay in the moment and cherish it, because you never know what’s good until it’s gone.