The direct impact currency has on individuals, families, and communities has always intrigued me. While pursuing my associate's degree at the Community College of Aurora, I became increasingly aware of the discipline's potential to illuminate and exacerbate social inequity. I left Community College of Aurora with my associate's degree in the Spring of 2020. I started working for the Department of Motor Vehicles under the State of Colorado Department of Revenue (DMV). During my time in this position, my interest grew into a passion. Individuals are affected by economics in several predictable (and unpredictable) ways. I worked at the DMV, where I could observe the poverty cycle up close. Most people do not simply forget when their car needs to be renewed; they just cannot afford to do it. When they eventually find the funds to renew, they discover that there are additional expenditures because of late fees. After paying their late fines they can purchase a two-week temporary tag. If they cannot pay the renewal in full by the due date, late fines start to accrue once more. If they are discovered to have expired license plates or tags, they will be subject to court-mandated fines. Vehicle registration funds road maintenance and local emergency services, from a financial standpoint, it is necessary. However, I believe that this framework ignores the disproportionately negative effect that late fees have on low-income communities. People struggling just to make ends meet are more likely to have to pay late fees; thus putting them at further risk of having to face catastrophic legal consequences. I led the effort to create a second grace period for car registration renewals in the State of Colorado. My local elected officials accepted and advanced this idea and pushed it up to the state-level government. When this policy was changed in January 2024, it gave those who didn't have the money a bit more time to come up with the money they needed. After I saw some of the systemic barriers that low-income communities experience when doing something as simple as renewing their vehicles, I felt that something needed to change. While the policy I advocated for provides a short-term period of relief, it highlights the need to address the underlying causes of poverty in a more direct manner. I am eager to apply my passion and expertise toward the development and implementation of policies that promote economic equity. My experience working at the DMV revealed to me how systems of the economy may aggravate social inequity. This experience was difficult and disheartening, but it only solidified the commitment I have to better the world around me. By getting a Bachelor of Science in Economics at Metropolitan State University of Denver, I hope that I will gain a better understanding of how economic policies influence the individual. I hope that I can make a more equitable society through research, policymaking, and encouraging community participation. I believe that by evaluating economic institutions through a humanistic lens, we can create a world that provides more chances to a broader spectrum of individuals.

Once a vague feeling, love became tangible to me the first night I cradled my newborn son, Rolland. The world seemed to center around the creaking of my rocking chair and his little snores. But our feeble sanctuary would not last. This serenity was destroyed by his father's increasingly disturbing pattern of domestic violence. My rose-colored glasses minimized the red flags, and so I disregarded them. Due to mental health problems, my ex-husband lost his job and I agreed he could stay home with Rolland while I worked. This hopeful decision to bond father and son turned into a dangerous gamble. Under the disguise of 'stress', the abuse slowly crept in. I looked up appropriate paternal postpartum behavior online because I was starting to doubt my own sanity. I felt incapable of accepting my shifting reality. Rolland's screams pierced through the peace of a quiet morning. I knew from the way he cried for me that something was very wrong. I sprinted to the nursery to find my partner towering over my baby, their features respectively twisted into expressions of horror and terror.  The loving man I thought I knew had disappeared and was replaced by a brutal stranger. Motherly instinct took control. I snatched Rolland away and told his dad to get out; when he refused, I dialed 911. I started the divorce process and immediately got a protective order. I lost my job due to an inability to find childcare quickly enough. Fear became my constant companion and I hid myself as well as my young son away in my single-bedroom apartment. I felt paralyzed. Once vibrant, I shut down and began focusing solely on day-to-day survival. This isolation continued until eviction forced me into a women's shelter. There, a stark realization hit: the inaction I had chosen to protect Rolland and me had, itself, become another danger. I began contacting the individuals who had made a positive impact on my life. My old college friend was the one I needed to change my life, and the life of my son, for the better. He offered perspective, a place to stay, and above all, emotional support. I moved our few possessions into his spare room and was filled with a sense of hope. After I found daycare, I began accepting odd jobs. When my friend encouraged me to re-enroll in college, I knew deep down that he was right.  The entire situation made the power of community more apparent. Abusers frequently wield seclusion as a weapon, they distort the real world to slowly weaken their victims over time. It feels impossible to get out when you are alone in doing so. I made a promise to myself to never let my son or I get caught in a cycle of abuse again. Family and friends are lifelines, which I will always guard and appreciate moving forward. One of the hardest roads I could take as a single mom is to go back to college. Nevertheless, my resolve is fueled by my love for my son and the iron-clad support from my community. My goal is to end the cycle of domestic abuse and provide others the tools they need to find success despite the financial and economic barriers they face. My aim is to use my degree to make the world a place where more women and children can get the help they need to stop simply existing and begin to thrive

The direct impact currency has on individuals, families, and communities has always intrigued me. While pursuing my associate's degree at the Community College of Aurora, I became increasingly aware of the discipline's potential to illuminate and exacerbate social inequity. I left Community College of Aurora with my associate's degree in the Spring of 2020. I started working for the Department of Motor Vehicles under the State of Colorado Department of Revenue (DMV). During my time in this position, my interest grew into a passion. Economics is a field that impacts individuals in a variety of predictable (and unpredictable) measures. I watched the cycle of poverty happen in a very intimate way at my position at the DMV.  Most individuals do not simply forget when their vehicle needs renewed, they cannot afford to get it done. When, finally they have the money to renew, they come in to find it costs extra due to late fees. Then, they purchase a two-week extension by covering their late fees and buying a two-week temporary tag. When that tag expires, late fees begin to build again. After they are caught with expired plates or tags, they face fines through court systems. Vehicle registration serves a utilitarian purpose: maintaining roads and facilitating emergency services. However, this framework often overlooks the disproportionate impact fines and fees have on marginalized communities. Individuals struggling financially are more likely to face late fees, accruing debt, and potentially life-altering legal repercussions. Recognizing this systemic inequity, I spearheaded a campaign to establish a second grace period for vehicle registration renewals within Douglas County. The higher-ups agreed and took this concept to a state level. This policy change, implemented in January 2024, offered a small but crucial lifeline to those facing economic hardship. After I witnessed a small portion of the systemic barriers faced by individuals struggling to pay their vehicle renewals, a passion was ignited in me to create positive change. While the policy adjustment I championed offers temporary relief, it underscores the need for more comprehensive solutions. Addressing the root causes of poverty such as income inequality and access to reliably legal transportation, requires a multifaceted approach. I am eager to contribute my passion and logistical skills towards developing and implementing policies that promote economic equity to provide opportunities for upward mobility.  My experiences at the DMV illuminated how economic systems are capable of perpetuatuating inequality. This first-hand exposure was frustrating and demoralizing - But it only solidified the commitment I have to my community. By pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Economics at Metropolitan State University of Denver, I aim to develop a deeper understanding of how economic policies shape lives. Whether through research, policymaking, or communal engagement, I aspire to create a more equitable society. I believe that by auditing economic systems through a lens of equity, we can create a world where more of us have an opportunity to thrive.

Love, once a fuzzy ideal, solidified for me the night I cradled my newborn son, Rolland. The world quieted to his soft snores and the sway of my rocking chair. But this fragile sanctuary wouldn't last. Escalating domestic violence by his father shattered our peace. Rose colored glasses blinded me to the red flags - I dismissed early warning signs. My ex, struggling with mental health issues, lost his job. Hoping to ease his burden, I agreed he could stay home with Rolland while I worked. This decision, made with optimism, morphed into a dangerous gamble. The abuse crept in subtly, disguised as stress. Questioning my sanity, I searched online to see what behavior others deemed ‘normal’ during paternal postpartum. Accepting my developing reality felt insurmountable. One harrowing morning, Rolland's cries pierced my exhaustion. Rushing to the nursery, a scene branded itself into my memory: my partner towering over our terrified infant, both faces contorted – one with rage, the other with terror. The man I knew vanished, replaced by a stranger capable of unimaginable cruelty. Instinct took over. I snatched Rolland, ordered his father out, and called the police. I filed for a protection order and began divorce proceedings. I lost my job due to an inability to find childcare quickly enough. Fear became my constant companion and I hid myself as well as my young son away in my single bedroom apartment. I felt paralyzed. Once vibrant, I shut down and began focusing solely on day-to-day survival. This isolation continued until eviction forced me into a women's shelter. There, a stark realization hit: the inaction I had chosen to protect Rolland and I had itself become dangerous. I started reaching out to individuals who had made positive impacts on my life. A lifeline emerged through an old friend I met at college years ago. He offered support, accommodation, and most importantly, perspective. With renewed hope, I moved our few things into his spare room. I found childcare and began working odd jobs. Upon his advice, I re-enrolled in college. This experience exposed the power of my community. Abusers often wield isolation as a weapon, distorting reality into whatever they dictate. If you have nobody else, escape feels impossible. I vowed to never again allow myself or Rolland to be trapped in such a suffocating and dangerous situation. My friends and family are a lifeline that I will continue to fiercely guard and deeply appreciate. As a single mother, I'm devoted to being a positive role model for my son. My ultimate goal is to form partnerships with nonprofit organizations and government agencies with the aim of establishing and implementing effective support systems for vulnerable communities. For now, I conscientiously exemplify public service to him by continuing to lead a community-based initiative to assemble and distribute packages to the homeless on Thanksgiving every year. By involving individuals from various backgrounds, including those without financial means, I foster a sense of connectedness and shared responsibility for the people around us. Attending college while I am a single parent is one of the most challenging paths I could walk. Yet, the love I have for my son and the unwavering support of my community fuel my determination. I am committed to breaking the cycle of domestic violence and empowering others to do the same. Through my education, I aspire to create a world where more women and children have access to the support they need to stop surviving, and begin to thrive.

Love, once a fuzzy ideal, solidified for me the night I cradled my newborn son, Rolland. The world quieted to his soft snores and the sway of my rocking chair. But this fragile sanctuary wouldn't last. Escalating domestic violence by his father shattered our peace. Rose-colored glasses blinded me to the red flags - I dismissed early warning signs. My ex, struggling with mental health issues, lost his job. Hoping to ease his burden, I agreed he could stay home with Rolland while I worked. This decision, made with optimism, morphed into a dangerous gamble. The abuse crept in subtly, disguised as stress. Questioning my sanity, I searched online to see what behavior others deemed ‘normal’ during paternal postpartum. Accepting my developing reality felt insurmountable. One harrowing morning, Rolland's cries pierced my exhaustion. Rushing to the nursery, a scene branded itself into my memory: my partner towering over our terrified infant, both faces contorted – one with rage, the other with terror. The man I knew vanished, replaced by a stranger capable of unimaginable cruelty. Instinct took over. I snatched Rolland, ordered his father out, and called the police. I filed for a protection order and began divorce proceedings. I lost my job due to an inability to find childcare quickly enough. Fear became my constant companion and I hid myself as well as my young son away in my single-bedroom apartment. I felt paralyzed. Once vibrant, I shut down and began focusing solely on day-to-day survival. This isolation continued until eviction forced me into a women's shelter. There, a stark realization hit: the inaction I had chosen to protect Rolland and me had, itself, become another danger. I started reaching out to individuals who had made positive impacts on my life. A lifeline emerged through an old friend I met at college years ago. He offered support, accommodation, and most importantly, perspective.  With renewed hope, I moved our few things into his spare room. I found childcare and began working odd jobs. Upon his advice, I re-enrolled in college.  This experience exposed the power of my community. Abusers often wield isolation as a weapon, distorting reality into whatever they dictate. If you have nobody else, escape feels impossible. I vowed to never again allow myself or Rolland to be trapped in such a suffocating and dangerous situation. My friends and family are a lifeline that I will continue to fiercely guard and deeply appreciate.  As a single mother, I'm devoted to being a positive role model for my son. My ultimate goal is to form partnerships with nonprofit organizations and government agencies to establish and implement effective support systems for vulnerable communities. For now, I conscientiously exemplify public service to him by continuing to lead a community-based initiative to assemble and distribute packages to the homeless on Thanksgiving every year. By involving individuals from various backgrounds, including those without financial means, I foster a sense of connectedness and shared responsibility for the people around us.  Attending college while I am a single parent is one of the most challenging paths I could walk. Yet, the love I have for my son and the unwavering support of my community fuel my determination. I am committed to breaking the cycle of domestic violence and empowering others to do the same. Through my education, I aspire to create a world where more women and children have access to the support they need to stop surviving and begin to thrive.