“Call 911!” Those words shattered what had been an ordinary family dinner. Moments earlier, my great-grandmother had been laughing with us. Then, without warning, she suffered a medical emergency and passed away in front of our family. I was in middle school, still trying to make sense of that loss, when someone I trusted became the source of relentless bullying. Before I had the chance to heal from one loss, another unfolded. The weight of grief, betrayal, and isolation quietly reshaped my mental health long before I had the words to explain what I was experiencing. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, my parents fought tirelessly to secure evaluations, treatment, accommodations, and support while mental health resources were stretched beyond capacity. Their advocacy changed my trajectory and revealed how difficult quality mental healthcare remains to access, even for families able to navigate the system. That experience convinced me that understanding within reach is where healing begins. While tutoring at Agape Youth & Family Center, I met an elementary student who quietly pushed her math worksheet aside because she believed she could not solve the next problem. Rather than giving her the answer, I guided her until she trusted her own thinking. Minutes later, she confidently solved the problem in front of her classmates. She solved a math problem, but what stayed with me was watching her rediscover belief in herself. For the first time, I saw how understanding, encouragement, and the right support could transform the way someone saw themselves. I began asking a different question: How many young people struggle not because they lack potential, but because they lack the understanding, support, or resources to recognize it? That was the moment I realized I did not just want to understand mental health. I wanted to devote my life to improving it. I became Mental Health First Aid-certified because I wanted to help others recognize concerns and respond with compassion. Through more than 460 hours of community service, I have worked to reduce stigma and encourage conversations that make it easier to seek help. I also founded Teen Service Connect, a youth-led nonprofit that has mobilized more than 150 youth volunteers, partnered with 17 nonprofit organizations, coordinated more than 1,000 service hours, and reached more than 18,000 individuals across Metro Atlanta. Wanting to understand mental health through both science and service led me into research as a Global Online Academy Capstone Honoree and clinical experience at the Helene S. Mills Senior Multipurpose Facility, supporting older adults living with Alzheimer's disease and dementia. Together, these experiences strengthened my commitment to combining research with compassionate, person-centered care. This fall, I will study psychology and neuroscience at Spelman College while pursuing Spelman's pathway to Morehouse School of Medicine. As a physician-scientist, I will advance adolescent mental healthcare through research, education, and equitable access to care while helping families, educators, healthcare professionals, and communities recognize concerns earlier and connect young people with evidence-based support. Jake Thomas Williams' legacy reminds us that strengthening suicide prevention requires more than responding in moments of crisis. It also requires communities that understand mental health, reduce stigma, recognize concerns, and can connect people with compassionate support. That is the legacy I will help carry forward. The Jake Thomas Williams Memorial Scholarship would invest in a mission I have already begun through advocacy, research, clinical service, and community leadership. I will honor Jake's memory by expanding understanding, improving access to compassionate care, and helping more young people and families find hope before hope has a chance to fade.

Understanding Changes Everything By Blake Davis While tutoring at Agape Youth & Family Center, I sat beside an elementary student who pushed her math worksheet away, convinced she could not solve the next problem. Rather than giving her the answer, I guided her until she trusted her own thinking. Minutes later, she walked to the whiteboard and solved the problem in front of her classmates. The answer wasn't what stayed with me. It was the transformation that happened before it. Her confidence returned before her grades did. Watching her believe in herself made me wonder how often growth begins before it becomes visible. That moment sparked a question that has shaped every meaningful experience since: How do cognition, neurological development, emotional well-being, and environment shape mental health outcomes long before challenges become visible? I didn’t expect to begin living that question myself. Living with narcolepsy transformed that question from intellectual curiosity into a personal pursuit. Before I understood what was happening, I questioned myself. Nothing appeared wrong, making it easy for others—and even me—to misunderstand what I was experiencing. Receiving a diagnosis gave me more than an explanation. It replaced uncertainty with understanding. For the first time, I wasn’t asking, “What’s wrong with me?” I was asking, “What if more young people had the chance to understand themselves sooner?” I began wondering how many adolescents struggle because they lack both understanding and early support. Answering that question became the focus of my education and service. Selected as a Global Online Academy Capstone Honoree, one of only 54 students recognized among more than 1,300 global submissions, I explored the neuropsychology of music, memory, and neurodiversity in learning. I became convinced science matters most when it helps people better understand themselves. This summer, I am interning at the Helene S. Mills Senior Multipurpose Facility, supporting individuals living with Alzheimer’s disease and dementia through cognitive engagement and therapeutic activities. One program participant lights up every time we dance together or laugh over a familiar joke. Those moments remind me that even when memory fades, dignity remains. They have shown me that mental healthcare begins with understanding the whole person, not just the diagnosis. That same conviction inspired me to found Teen Service Connect, a youth-led nonprofit connecting teenagers with meaningful volunteer opportunities. Watching hesitant volunteers become confident leaders reinforced what I first learned at Agape: when young people are understood and encouraged, they flourish. Today, Teen Service Connect has mobilized more than 150 youth volunteers through 17 nonprofit partnerships, coordinated more than 1,000 service hours, and reached more than 18,000 individuals throughout Metro Atlanta. I realized that belonging and purpose are essential to mental well-being. At Spelman College, I will study psychology and neuroscience because neither discipline alone fully answers the questions that inspire me. Psychology explains behavior, resilience, and emotional development. Neuroscience reveals the biological systems underlying those experiences. Together, they will prepare me to pursue Spelman’s pathway to Morehouse School of Medicine and become a physician-scientist advancing adolescent mental healthcare through research, earlier intervention, patient advocacy, and equitable access to care. Understanding changes everything. It shaped the questions I ask, the way I serve, and the physician-scientist I am becoming. The Ernest Lee McLean Jr. World Life Memorial Scholarship invests in future mental health leaders committed to expanding compassionate care. This scholarship support would help close my college-funding gap and strengthen my preparation at Spelman as I pursue a career devoted to helping more young people understand themselves, recognize their potential, and receive the care they deserve before challenges define what they believe is possible.

Love, on purpose By Blake Davis I remember sitting at our kitchen table, excited to tell my mother about an A I earned on an essay. She smiled, congratulated me, and then asked, “What did you learn from it?” I wished she would stay in that moment with me a little longer. Instead, she was already thinking about what came next and how I could continue growing. She expected excellence, commitment, and accountability. I often experienced those expectations as pressure. It was not until my senior year that I understood they were expressions of love from a single mother determined to prepare me for life. Growing up in a single-parent household built my resilience as I watched my mother carry responsibilities most people never saw. There were months when she navigated financial strain and the countless responsibilities alone. I would wash dinner dishes while she sat at the table sorting bills and stretching every dollar. Somehow, she still made my opportunities possible. While I focused on reaching the next milestone, she figured out how to help me get there. Her example became my model of perseverance when the road was tough. During my senior year, I took greater initiative over my future. I balanced academics, scholarship applications, college preparation, and leading my nonprofit, rather than expecting my mother to carry me every step of the way. In one of the most demanding seasons of my life, I began seeing her differently. Raised by a single mother herself, she understood what it meant to build a future despite uncertainty. My grandmother poured everything she could into raising her daughter, and my mother continued that legacy with me. What I once experienced as pressure, I now recognize as preparation. Watching my mother create opportunities for me inspired me to create them for others. I launched Teen Service Connect. While contributing more than 460 service hours throughout high school, I wanted other teenagers to find meaningful pathways to serve. Today, the youth-led nonprofit has mobilized 150+ volunteers through 17 nonprofit partners, coordinated 1,000+ service hours, and reached 18,000+ individuals. Building it taught me that service-minded leadership is measured by the opportunities we create for others. My mother also taught me that love sometimes sounds like advocacy. She used her voice on my behalf, giving me the courage to use mine to benefit others. This year, I published “Teenagers Are Ready to Serve. Atlanta Should Make It Easier” in Rough Draft Atlanta, advocating for fewer barriers to youth service through systems-level change. I learned from her that meaningful change often begins when someone is willing to speak. This fall, I will follow in my mother’s footsteps to Spelman College while charting my own path studying Psychology and Neuroscience. I plan to pursue the Morehouse School of Medicine M.D./Ph.D. pathway and become a physician-scientist advancing adolescent mental healthcare through evidence-based research, earlier intervention, patient advocacy, and equitable access to care. It took me 10 years to answer my mother’s question. She was teaching me to look beyond accomplishments, find purpose in opportunities, and through stewardship, help others move forward. The greatest way I can honor my mother and grandmother is by extending the path they began. The Sola Family Scholarship would honor my mother’s strength and perseverance by easing my family’s burden as I pursue that purpose at Spelman. Love, on purpose is no longer just how I describe the way I was raised. It is how I will live, by creating opportunities, advocating for others, and helping to build healthcare systems where young people are seen, supported, and able to thrive.

Willingness was never the problem. Access was. While my peers looked for ways to give back, and local nonprofits struggled to fill volunteer shifts, the bridge between them did not exist. So I decided to build it to make a positive impact on the world. Two years ago, I founded Teen Service Connect, a youth-led initiative that expands access to service through structured, consistent engagement. I built partnerships with 17 nonprofit organizations, including Atlanta BeltLine Partnership, A.G. Rhodes, and HOPE Atlanta, and designed a framework that handles the identification, communication, and execution of service opportunities. That structure makes it easier for students to participate and ensures nonprofits receive volunteers they can actually depend on. I recruited and led a team of student volunteers, coordinated logistics, and aligned each project with a real, identified community need. Through this work, Teen Service Connect has engaged more than 150 youth volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 hours of service, and reached more than 18,000 individuals across Metro Atlanta, supporting public spaces, senior communities, and organizations addressing housing stability. More importantly, I built the organization as a replicable framework, not a one-time project, so it can expand into communities beyond my own. But impact is not only measured by scale. I remain directly involved in service myself, including more than 85 hours as a certified math and literacy tutor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, where I support students whose academic progress is closely tied to their confidence and access to resources. One student, after weeks of reading support, looked up at me one day and said, "I didn't know I was smart." That single sentence reframed how I think about impact. Scale tells you how far something reaches. Moments like that one tell you whether it actually landed. Leading Teen Service Connect has shaped how I think about responsibility. I am accountable not just for outcomes, but for the people carrying them out: the volunteers who show up, the nonprofits depending on them, and the communities counting on both. I have learned to make decisions under pressure, communicate clearly when plans change, and stay committed even when progress is slow and invisible. Leadership, I have come to understand, requires consistency far more than it requires recognition. At Spelman College, I will study psychology and pursue the Morehouse School of Medicine pathway. I plan to keep expanding Teen Service Connect, strengthening existing partnerships and extending the model into additional communities so that more students have the access I once had to build from scratch. I am inspired by the legacy of Tiffany Parker Porter, who used her own leadership to expand access and create opportunity for others, and I intend to carry that same commitment forward, both through my organization and eventually through medicine. I do not just participate in service. I build access. And when access exists, impact follows. That is how I plan to make a positive impact on the world: not as a single gesture, but as a system, built once and built to outlast me.

I first understood the value of STEM not in a classroom, but in my own body. Throughout high school, I navigated narcolepsy while carrying a full course load, athletics, leadership, and entrepreneurship. Doctors could explain the neuroscience behind what was happening to me, but the biology only went so far; what I needed was care built around how a real person lives, not just a diagnosis on a chart. That gap between scientific knowledge and lived experience is what pulled me toward STEM. I am drawn to neuropsychology because the brain sits at the intersection of biology and identity. It explains how people think, and why they struggle, adapt, and sometimes go unseen by the systems meant to help them. I plan to study neuropsychology at Spelman College this fall, with a path toward the MD PhD program at Morehouse School of Medicine, because I want to be both a scientist who understands the brain and a physician who treats the person attached to it. My interest in STEM has never been abstract. It has been shaped by direct contact with young people who are often misread. As a certified math and literacy tutor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I worked with bilingual and neurodiverse students who needed more than content review. One student rarely participated and flinched at his own mistakes. He needed to trust that being wrong would not cost him anything. After weeks of consistent support, he became confident enough to volunteer answers he once kept to himself. That taught me that scientific skill is only useful when paired with the patience to actually see the person in front of you, a model I plan to scale throughout my STEM career. That belief led me to found Teen Service Connect, a youth led nonprofit that makes service more accessible to teenagers. Since launching it, I have mobilized more than 150 student volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 service hours, partnered with nonprofits across Metro Atlanta, and reached more than 18,000 people. Leading that organization showed me that uplift happens through deliberate infrastructure: recruiting volunteers, building partnerships, and creating consistent access points for people who would otherwise be left out. I intend to apply that same approach to STEM education itself, building mentorship pipelines that connect younger students, particularly bilingual and neurodiverse students like the ones I tutored at Agape, to coursework, research exposure, and college application support. Representation in STEM does not happen by accident; it requires people already inside the field deliberately opening the door behind them. My degree will also serve a more direct purpose: strengthening mental healthcare for adolescents in communities where emotional and neurological struggles are often misunderstood or caught too late. Black adolescents are frequently underdiagnosed or misdiagnosed, often because physicians lack the cultural fluency or trust needed to recognize what they are seeing. I plan to combine clinical care with neuroscience research, working alongside physicians to build screening tools and treatment approaches that reflect the populations they serve. STEM gave me language for my own narcolepsy. Tutoring and nonprofit work taught me that knowledge uplifts a community only when delivered through real infrastructure: mentorship, access, and trust. A STEM career, used deliberately, is not just personal achievement; it is a set of tools capable of reaching back into the communities that produced me, closing gaps in education and healthcare, and ensuring the next overlooked student is found sooner than I was.

I first met a doctor at the age of five on a cartoon, Doc McStuffins. It was more than just a thrill to see a little girl in a white coat who looked like me. I did not know the word yet, but I felt seen. Soon after, I received a toy doctor’s kit, and I still remember the feeling of holding a stethoscope to my parents’ chests and listening to their heartbeats. That sound made caregiving feel tangible. It planted a seed in me that has only grown stronger over time: to protect, to heal, and to serve my community with both competence and care. This flame from childhood has been purpose-fueled by experience. I am a trained literacy tutor and mentor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, working with students who learn differently, and I have seen what it means when young people lack the resources, accommodations, and consistency in their support systems. I have also seen what it means when they do. Confidence can be restored in a flash when a student feels seen and capable. That is why policy decisions that decrease special education capacity or cut rehabilitative services affected me so deeply, because I can picture the students who will feel those impacts first and worst. My commitment to mental health and education is also personal. I fell in love with psychology as a way to understand myself. As someone who lives with narcolepsy and is neurodivergent, I have spent years learning how my brain works and how it processes stress, relationships, and expectations. Support and self-study have helped me build practical strategies, especially using Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical Behavior Therapy. Those tools did not simply give me vocabulary for my emotions. They taught me resilience, self-advocacy, and the power of recognizing patterns and rewriting them. That experience has shaped the professional I aspire to be: one who is grounded in science but driven by empathy. I plan to study psychology with a concentration on cognitive development and mental health. My goal is to become a Pediatric Psychiatrist, with a focus on working with children and adolescents, because it is in those years where identity, trauma, environment, and learning differences often intersect, and where the right support can alter the entire course of a life. I do not want to treat only individual patients, but also to reinforce the systems that inform their outcomes. I aim to uplift the voices of students, families, and educators and help to increase access to trauma-informed care, early intervention, and school-based mental health support. In college, I hope to balance research with hands-on service by studying the most promising approaches to anxiety, learning differences, and identity development while remaining grounded in the community spaces where the most support is needed. I want to be the kind of clinician and advocate who listens closely, who treats with precision, and who leads with compassion: someone who not only understands the mind but also honors lived experience and builds pathways for young people to feel safe, supported, and seen. The heartbeat I listened to at five years old has stayed with me ever since. I now know that caring for people means more than just listening. It means showing up with knowledge, it means advocating when systems break, and it means helping to create the support that allows young people not just to survive, but to truly thrive. Through empathy, I found direction. And through direction, I found a future devoted to uncovering the profound beauty of the human mind and the quiet promise that even in our deepest pain, there is room for growth, for creation, and for hope.

Lessons Beyond School Walls By Blake Davis Most people think of a backyard as a place where they play, explore, and grow. Mine stretches across Atlanta. One week, I left a tutoring session at the Agape Youth & Family Center and crossed the city to a Teen Service Connect volunteer project. Later that week, I was supporting older adults at the Helene S. Mills Senior Multipurpose Facility. As I moved between classrooms, community centers, and service sites woven through Atlanta's urban forest, I realized the city itself had become my classroom. As a certified math and literacy tutor at Agape, I learned how support shapes confidence. Through Teen Service Connect, the nonprofit I founded, I learned how opportunity shapes leadership. This summer at the Helene S. Mills Senior Multipurpose Facility, I am learning how cognition evolves across the lifespan. Together, these experiences deepened my interest in human development and strengthened my desire to understand how opportunity, support, and lived experiences influence outcomes across the lifespan. Throughout high school, I became increasingly interested in why similar opportunities produce different outcomes and how cognition, emotion regulation, neurological development, and environment shape those differences. That interest deepened through my experience navigating narcolepsy, which heightened my awareness of how neurological conditions, environments, and support systems influence daily functioning and long-term outcomes. My academic interests led me to explore the neuropsychology of music, memory, and neurodiverse learning through my Global Online Academy Capstone project. Selected as a Global Online Academy Capstone Honoree, one of 54 students chosen from more than 1,300 global submissions, I conducted interdisciplinary research examining how cognitive and environmental factors influence learning. The project strengthened my interest in understanding how cognition, lived experiences, and human development influence outcomes while revealing how much remains unanswered. College will allow me to engage in the rigorous research, mentorship, and collaboration necessary to investigate those questions more deeply. At Agape, I watched a student who once avoided raising her hand begin answering questions with confidence. I learned that confidence often grows before achievement becomes visible. Through Teen Service Connect, I engaged more than 150 youth volunteers, coordinated more than 1,000 service hours, and reached more than 18,000 individuals through nonprofit partnerships and community initiatives. In recognition of my leadership and community impact, I received the Georgia Youth Leadership Award, recognizing 21 of the state's top student leaders. These experiences taught me that meaningful change requires more than good intentions. It requires leadership, research, strategy, and systems capable of scaling impact. The questions that emerged from my experiences across Atlanta are the ones I will pursue through college and beyond. At Spelman College and through the Morehouse School of Medicine MD-PhD pathway, I will investigate why underserved youth experience disparities in mental health and access to care and how earlier identification and intervention improve long-term outcomes. Research will deepen my understanding of the factors that shape developmental and mental health outcomes, while medicine will translate those insights into meaningful care for individuals, families, and communities. College transforms potential into preparation. It is where I will gain the training necessary to develop earlier pathways to identification and care, improve access to adolescent mental healthcare, and help ensure fewer young people go without support until challenges become crises. The Atlanta communities that served as my backyard and classroom have shown me how profoundly lives can change when support arrives early. Through research, medicine, and community engagement, I will create systems that recognize potential sooner, expand access to care, and ensure more young people receive the support they need before challenges become barriers to opportunity.

Seen, Supported, and Called to Serve By Blake Davis The students who worried me most were rarely the ones struggling loudly. One student I tutored rarely raised her hand and almost always looked down after answering a question, even when she was correct. After weeks of encouragement, I remember the first time she raised her hand confidently without hesitation. What stayed with me most was not the academic improvement but the visible shift in how she saw herself. That moment changed the way I understand service. I realized that people grow differently when they feel safe enough to believe that their voices matter. Throughout high school, I became aware that many young people struggle because they lack support systems that help them believe in themselves early enough. I saw this while tutoring bilingual and neurodiverse students at the Agape Youth and Family Center. Many of the students I worked with needed more than academic instruction. They needed patience, encouragement, and someone willing to remain beside them so their confidence could grow. I became increasingly interested in how emotional, neurological, and environmental factors shape the way young people learn, respond, and see themselves. My understanding of these challenges also became deeply personal. Navigating narcolepsy throughout high school while balancing rigorous academics, athletics, entrepreneurship, nonprofit leadership, and service gave me insight into how neurological conditions quietly shape daily life. Living with narcolepsy taught me how easily people confuse performance with wellness. I learned that someone can function highly academically while quietly expending extraordinary energy simply to remain present. There were days when remaining alert through demanding classes felt like a private battle no one else could see. That experience sparked my curiosity about the adolescent brain and strengthened my desire to better understand the relationship between neurological health, emotional well-being, and identity development in young people. Throughout high school, I dedicated hundreds of service hours to tutoring, mentoring, and youth leadership throughout Metro Atlanta. That commitment inspired me to found Teen Service Connect, a youth-led nonprofit focused on making community service more accessible for teenagers. Through the organization, I have mobilized more than 150 student volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 service hours, and helped reach more than 18,000 individuals through youth-led initiatives and nonprofit partnerships. Watching volunteers return week after week to mentor elementary students showed me how service can transform both the person receiving help and the person giving it. My faith continues to shape the way I approach service, reminding me that care is most meaningful when it is consistent, personal, and rooted in compassion. This fall, I will attend Spelman College while pursuing the MD-PhD pathway toward becoming a physician-scientist focused on adolescent psychiatry. I will use my education to better understand and directly treat the neurological and emotional challenges affecting adolescents, particularly within underserved communities where these struggles are often misunderstood or recognized too late. Through neuroscience research, I will better understand why underlying challenges develop and how earlier intervention can improve outcomes. Through medicine, I will support adolescents and families as they navigate those challenges in real time. Managing rigorous academics, leadership roles, athletics, entrepreneurship, and nonprofit responsibilities while navigating a chronic neurological condition has already required the stamina, resilience, and sustained discipline necessary for the demanding years of medical and research training ahead. Mrs. Marion Makins dedicated her life to faith, education, and service to others. Those same values continue guiding the way I live and lead. As a future physician-scientist, I hope to combine research, advocacy, and compassionate clinical care to help more adolescents receive support and intervention before quiet struggles become lifelong barriers.

Seen, Heard, and Understood By Blake Davis Some of the most meaningful changes in a young person’s life begin when they feel genuinely understood. That belief has shaped my goals in medicine, research, and community leadership, and it continues guiding my commitment to psychiatry and neuroscience. This fall, I will attend Spelman College to study neuropsychology while pursuing the Morehouse School of Medicine MD-PhD pathway toward becoming an adolescent psychiatrist and physician scientist. My long-term goal is to strengthen systems of mental healthcare for young people, particularly in communities where emotional and neurological challenges are often misunderstood or recognized too late. I hope to combine clinical care, neuroscience research, and advocacy to improve how adolescents are supported both within and beyond healthcare settings. My work will focus on helping young people feel understood before they begin questioning their own potential. My interest in this path is deeply connected to both personal experience and community service. Navigating narcolepsy throughout high school while balancing rigorous academics, leadership, athletics, entrepreneurship, nonprofit leadership, and service commitments required discipline, adaptability, endurance, and strategic time management. Balancing those responsibilities sharpened my ability to lead under pressure and reinforced the consistency and resilience needed for a demanding medical and research career. I learned early that high achievement does not prevent people from struggling quietly. Those experiences deepened my understanding of how profoundly support, patience, and early intervention shape confidence, healing, and long-term opportunity. That understanding became even more meaningful through my community work. Over the past four years, I have contributed hundreds of service hours through tutoring, mentoring, leadership initiatives, and nonprofit service. As a certified math and literacy tutor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I worked closely with bilingual and neurodiverse students who often needed more than academic instruction. Many needed structure, encouragement, consistency, and someone willing to believe in them before they fully believed in themselves. One student I worked with rarely participated and often seemed discouraged by mistakes. After weeks of individualized support and encouragement, I watched that same student begin volunteering answers confidently and engaging more fully in class. The academic improvement mattered, but what stayed with me most was the visible shift in confidence. That experience reinforced something I continue to see in both leadership and service: many young people begin changing the moment they feel genuinely seen, heard, and understood. That realization inspired me to found Teen Service Connect, a youth-led nonprofit organization focused on making service more accessible and meaningful for teenagers. Since launching the organization, I have mobilized more than 150 student volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 service hours, and reached more than 18,000 individuals through youth-led impact initiatives. More importantly, the organization reinforced my belief that leadership is most meaningful when it creates opportunities for others to feel valued, supported, and capable of contributing to something larger than themselves. What motivates me most is not only the opportunity to become a physician-scientist but also the ability to help pioneer clinical frameworks in which young people are recognized earlier, supported more compassionately, and encouraged to fully realize their potential before they begin to question it themselves. The values reflected in Abigail Adewunmi’s life, perseverance, faith, curiosity, compassion, and service, deeply resonate with the systemic changes I hope to help establish throughout my career. Like Abby, I believe education carries both opportunity and responsibility. I hope to use mine to create meaningful impact in the lives of others while continuing to lead with purpose, humility, grace, and care.

Maddie’s Way Memorial Scholarship Essay By Blake Davis There was a time when I was doing everything I was supposed to do, going to school, staying involved, keeping up with my work, but still felt completely overwhelmed in ways I did not know how to explain. That time was during middle school, especially throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. As an only child entering a new school, when connections felt limited, I was navigating anxiety and depression in a way that was mostly invisible to the people around me. I learned quickly that it was possible to appear okay while still carrying emotions I did not fully understand. What changed things for me was not one moment, but a process. With the support of my family and a consistent care team, I began to understand what I was experiencing and how to manage it. It was not about everything suddenly becoming easy. It was about learning how to move through each day with structure, awareness, and support. Over time, I realized how much of a difference it makes to feel understood, not just treated. That experience is what drew me to study psychology in high school. I am now a high school senior with a 3.98 GPA, and I plan to major in psychology with a concentration in neuroscience in college, ultimately pursuing a career in psychiatry. More than that, I am someone who has seen how important it is for people to have access to care and to feel supported in ways that meet them where they are. Through my work as a tutor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I have worked with students who remind me of that feeling of not always being fully seen or understood. I have watched their confidence grow when someone takes the time to be patient, consistent, and present with them. It is not just about improving grades. It is about changing how they see themselves. I also founded Teen Service Connect because I wanted to create more opportunities for students to feel connected and engaged in their communities. I have learned that purpose and connection are not separate from well-being. They are a part of it. Maddie’s story is difficult to read because it reflects something that remains all too common. People can appear to be doing well while carrying more than others realize. That is why I care about this work. I want to be part of a field that continues to reduce stigma and expand access to care, especially for young people who may not yet be able to explain how they feel. I know that mental health is not something that gets solved all at once. It is something you learn to understand over time, with the right support. That understanding is what I want to continue building, both for myself and for others, through a career in psychology. I hope to contribute to a future where more people feel safe seeking help and feel supported as they navigate their mental health.

Scaling Access to Service By Blake Davis ​ I watched students ready to serve get turned away because there was no system to support them. In my community, I saw a disconnect between students wanting to serve and organizations needing support. Many peers were eager to give back, but without transportation, connections, or adult coordination, opportunities felt out of reach. At the same time, nonprofits struggled to find reliable volunteers. The issue was not a lack of care, just a lack of structure. I was motivated to address this while volunteering at the Agape Youth and Family Center, where I saw how consistent support changes outcomes. As a certified math and literacy tutor, I work with students whose progress is tied to their confidence. After weeks, one student looked up and said, “I didn’t know I was smart.” That moment stayed with me. It made clear that access to support does not just change outcomes. It changes how someone sees themselves. That experience pushed me to think beyond my role and consider how more students could access opportunities like this. In 2024, I founded Teen Service Connect, a youth-led non-profit designed to make service more accessible and consistent. I built partnerships with more than 17 nonprofit organizations, including the Atlanta Beltline Partnership, A.G. Rhodes, and HOPE Atlanta, and developed a framework to organize opportunities. This allows students to take ownership while ensuring nonprofits receive dependable support. Since launching, Teen Service Connect has engaged more than 150 student volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 hours of service, and reached more than 18,000 individuals. As a result, I was invited to serve as a youth advisor to Hands On Atlanta, guiding youth engagement. Looking ahead, I plan to expand Teen Service Connect into a replicable model for schools and communities nationwide. Support like the Chi Changemaker Scholarship would accelerate growth, allowing me to strengthen infrastructure, build partnerships, and equip student leaders to launch chapters. At Spelman College, I will continue developing tools that ensure access to service is not dependent on circumstance but built into the student experience, shaping my path in psychology and medicine. Addressing this gap has shown me that meaningful change does not always require new ideas. It requires building systems that make opportunity accessible and expected. That is the work I will continue to build and scale until access to service is no longer a barrier, but a standard.

Showing Up So Others Can By Blake Davis ​ Kindness means choosing to show up, even when you cannot control the outcome. I have played soccer since I was a little girl, and this year, I stepped onto a softball field for the first time as a senior. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable, but I chose to try anyway. That same mindset shapes how I show up for others. Living with narcolepsy has taught me that showing up is not always predictable, but it is always something I work toward. It has made me more aware of how much presence matters, and how powerful it is when someone chooses to be there for you. As a certified math and literacy tutor at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I worked with a student who struggled not only with reading but also with confidence. He hesitated, avoided eye contact, and questioned himself before even beginning. Instead of focusing only on progress, I focused on consistency. I showed up each week, creating a space where mistakes were part of learning, not something to fear. After weeks of working together, he looked up and said, “I didn’t know I was smart.” That moment was important because it was not about reading. It was about how he saw himself. I realized that kindness is not just encouragement. It is the decision to stay present long enough for someone to recognize their own potential. Kindness is not about grand gestures. It is about showing up again and again, in whatever ways you can, until someone else begins to see themselves differently. ----------------- Where Belonging Begins By Blake Davis Connection does not begin when people come together. It begins when someone feels safe enough to belong. When I began volunteering at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I saw how easily people feel disconnected, even in spaces designed to support them. Some students were hesitant to speak, unsure of where they fit or whether they belonged at all. I realized that creating connection was not just about being present. It was about making space for others to feel seen. That understanding led me to think more intentionally about how connection is built. As a tutor, I focused on consistency, creating an environment where students felt comfortable enough to participate, ask questions, and take risks without fear of judgment. Over time, that consistency built trust and, with it, a sense of belonging. That work showed me that connection begins with one person, but it cannot end there. I carried that same approach into founding Teen Service Connect. I saw that many students wanted to serve their communities but did not know how to get started, especially without adult guidance, while organizations needed reliable volunteers. I created Teen Service Connect to bridge that gap and build a system that sustains connection. It is a space where students are not only connected to opportunities, but to each other. Through this work, students take ownership, collaborate, and begin to see themselves as part of something larger. They are not just volunteering. They are building relationships, contributing to their communities, and creating environments where others feel included. Connection, I have learned, is not built when people simply come together. It is built when people feel safe enough to truly belong.

One Opportunity at a Time By Blake Davis Willingness was never the problem. Access was. Service, for me, is built through consistency, intention, and the belief that opportunity should be within reach. That belief was not abstract. It was shaped by a defining moment. My great-grandmother, Nana, passed suddenly during a family gathering, in my presence, shifting everything. She was intentional, present, and deeply committed to her community. The way she showed up stayed with me. In the time that followed, as I processed my grief, I leaned more deeply into community, becoming even more engaged in service than before. Through my work at the Agape Youth and Family Center, I began to notice a structural gap: students wanted to serve, and nonprofits needed support, yet there was no clear, accessible system for young people to find and navigate meaningful opportunities independently. I founded Teen Service Connect to build that bridge. Since launching the organization in 2024, I have built partnerships with more than 17 nonprofit organizations, including the Atlanta Beltline Partnership, A.G. Rhodes, HOPE Atlanta, and the Agape Youth and Family Center. I designed a structured, youth-led framework that organizes how service opportunities are identified, communicated, and executed, making participation more accessible while ensuring nonprofits receive consistent support. Through this work, Teen Service Connect has engaged more than 150 youth volunteers, coordinated over 1,000 hours of service, and reached more than 18,000 individuals across Metro Atlanta. The model is intentionally designed to be replicable, built to expand into schools and communities nationwide. I remain directly involved in service. I have contributed more than 390 hours of community service, including over 85 hours as a certified math and literacy tutor at Agape. After weeks of reading together, one student told me, “I didn’t know I was smart.” That moment reinforced the idea that impact is measured not only by scale but also by how we help individuals recognize their own potential. At Spelman College, I plan to study psychology with a concentration in neuroscience and pursue a career as a physician-researcher. My goal is to strengthen how communities are supported by connecting research, care, and real-world impact, particularly for individuals whose challenges are not always visible. To improve my community for future generations, I will continue expanding Teen Service Connect, strengthening partnerships, and extending this framework to additional communities so more students can move from willingness to meaningful action. The legacy my great-grandmother, Nana, modeled was not about recognition. It was about showing up with intention and purpose. What began as a defining moment is now work I carry forward, strengthening my community one pathway at a time.