One important social issue that I hold dear to my heart is the issue of poor mental health among children. A child deserves the right to dream, play, and be curious yet naive all at the same time. Children deserve to enjoy their lives when they're young because often times when they get older, life leaves no room to do so. I am passionate about children, I love helping them and finding more ways to serve them in my community. An organization that I have had the blessing to become a part of is called Reading Connections. It is a program that provides literacy both to parents and children. While the parents learn English, I volunteer to help out in the child classrooms and assist the teacher. This program is humbling because it reminds me that there are a lot more people in America who don't know English than I originally thought. English is such a hard language to learn and this country can sometimes be ignorant to those who don't know it. To me, Reading Connections does a world of good for families in North Carolina. Apart from my service to my community, I aspire to become a Child Psychologist. The main motivation behind this career choice is my desire to be the person that I know my younger self needed. If I were to take a walk with my nine-year-old self, she'd tell me that she wanted to look more like her classmates, fit in better, and be cool. As a twenty-year-old, that translates to her dire need to accept and love herself for who she was. The environment I found myself in robbed me of the joy of being a kid. Sure, I was surrounded by people who loved me but it's hard to feel that love when you have no love for yourself. I needed a reminder and I know so many young girls just like me who need a reminder right now too. Being a volunteer at Reading Connections lets me escape from my own personal world. Every child that I've met during my time spent serving in this program was vibrant, unique, and self-expressive. They each have a zest for life that I crave for my own life too. I thank God for blessing me with a passion for helping kids because they deserve to live their best lives. Every child deserves to be naive and not have it all figured out. But most of all, every child deserves to love themselves. More than the younger me did. Or ever could. Because she didn't have someone who reminded her just how good she had it.

My father was a raging alcoholic who put my family and I through hell for over ten years. He would come home from work and immediately reach for the beer and drink it until he got drunk. Who he was when he was drunk was a monster, and he'd do things that not many fathers should be doing to their children. I have been personally impacted by domestic violence because if it wasn't for certain family members outside of my household, I would have not had the chance to see my family ever again. I was two years old when Child Protective Services visited our house after our neighbors called the cops on my father. He had my older sister pushed against the wall and choking her when the cops came to arrest him. Although he had a long history and criminal record of domestic abuse, this was the first time that CPS had visited our house and was looking for me to be removed from the home. Only a few minutes prior, I was picked up by my God Sister for a sleepover. If I was still in that home, I'd be ripped from my family and uncertain when I'd ever see them again. My father has impacted my life tremendously because he showed me the ugly sides of abuse, and I learned to appreciate my current life without him. To this day, he's remorseful for breaking our family apart and doing all of the nasty things that he did to us growing up. I'v seen and heard things that many young children should never have to go through. My father is still a drunk and I maintain little contact with him. I plan to go forth and become a Psychologist. With my disdain for my past and childhood, I commend my mom for being strong enough to finally walk away from my father. Granted, the last time we were all under one roof he was in handcuffs and put on a restraining order against us for a little while. Nonetheless, she took care of my two older sisters and I on her own with strength and grace. I want to be the one to empower women, with children or not, that there is light on the other side. That their is power in walking away. Yes, some women don't have it easy enough to walk away, but I want to make sure that I am knowledgable on the right resources to point them in the direction to. Support comes in many shapes and sizes and it would be my duty to make sure that they receive it. If they have kids I'd want them to strongly consider keeping them away from their abusive family member. If they have family members I'd do my best to be discreet in arranging safe havens for the women victims to go to when things get too bad. This growing world is full of innovation and ideas that would give these black women another chance. When I was growing up, we were taught of an organization called "Sister's Place" where victims of domestic abuse would be able to seek shelter from their abusers. It's opportunities like that where I would want young black women to find solace in receiving support. I will be the one to direct them to a brighter future ahead that is completely free of darkness. I feel that every black woman deserves that!

When my sister Amanda turned 18, she moved out of the house. I, at the ripe age of 7, watched with wide eyes as my mom and dad packed up all her things and loaded them into the car. She was off to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to stay with a friend she knew down there. She also wanted a fresh start. This desire for a fresh start was painstakingly similar in my other older sister's move to Pasadena in Cali but this move felt a little different, and my 7 year old mind couldn't quite figure out why. Growing up I always noticed my mom allowing Amanda to be a free spirit, and not a free spirit in a good way. A lot of the things Amanda would do made my mom upset but she never really acted on it. I never thought much of it because Amanda always let me hang out with her cool friends and watch all of the R-rated movies that mom barred me from. Another thing about Amanda was that she had a short fuse, one wrong word or action towards her would be the straw that broke the camels back. She would lose all her marbles over losing a board game or even someone drinking the last of her juice. My mom's way of allowing Amanda to be a free spirit in her teens didn't begin to bother me until I actually got to my teens. The things Amanda did were no longer available to me and the rules were much stricter. So contrary to my 7 year old self who turned a blind eye to it, I had 20/20 vision and was ready to inquire. "Your sister has been through a lot," She'd say. And that'd only make me upset because it felt as if I was getting the short end of the stick to a life that was not as fun and free willed as hers. Taking a deeper look at what life was like for my older sisters gave me a better clue at why Amanda acted the way she did and why my mom didn't do anything about it. The relationship between my biological father and my mother was pretty much severed when Amanda had to save my older sister from being strangled by my father. My father was a raging alcoholic who had no regard for controlling his temper when he had too many beers. The trauma Amanda had gotten from that night, coupled with the drama that ensued many nights prior to that one was enough for my mom to say "Okay" to her mood swings and bratty tendencies. While my older sister was already 18 when my parents split, her quick move to California for a fresh start was justified. But Amanda was still in high school, and my mom couldn't afford to let her drop out in the name of wanting a fresh start like her older sister. So her fresh start came in the way that we moved an hour upstate and she got to do whatever she wanted. Amanda's short fuse was soon diagnosed as severe bipolar disorder. After a few trips to the Psychologist in her 20's, she finally began getting the treatment she deserved. I also finally stopped putting the blame on my mom for letting her do whatever she wanted, because my mom just felt bad. My mom knew that there was more to the door slamming and bailouts from jail. Amanda needed serious help and that was something that fresh starts could never fix. Observing my older sister's experience with her mental health fueled my passion to be of service to people who are just like her. Although I couldn't see it at 7 or even at 16, there's always going to be more to someone besides their temper. Some traumas cannot be healed alone and sometimes people need a serious helping hand to see beyond the mind fog. I aspire to be that helping hand. I truly love the idea of becoming a Clinical Psychologist with a heavy focus on adolescents. In my eyes, some children and teens don't always know how to speak up properly about how they feel and bottled up emotions get the best of their mind. The world likes to paint mental health as something that can be worked through with Pinterest quotes and self care days, but sometimes the need for it goes way deeper than that. I believe that every child deserves the proper tlc(time, love, and care) to ensure that the scar of poor mental health doesn't severe our appreciation for the good things in life.

I come from a long line of poor mental health. My father was a raging alcoholic who didn't go a day without creating living nightmares for my two older sisters. The stories they recollect to me, as I was only two years old when our mom moved us out of the house, are horrific. If there is any inherited trait from our dad that sticks out most, it would be our temper. Granted, my father's temper was charged by the excessive amounts of alcohol he consumed, but as the saying goes "The truth comes out when you're not sober". And those truths we speak of were not nice at all. Another saying is "The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree", and I can definitely say this to speak to my sisters and I. During my twenty trips around the sun, I have acquired a knack for saying really mean things when I get upset. My sisters do the same, but I will only speak on myself for the sake of this essay. My mental health could definitely be a lot better than it currently is but I am working on it. Being a psychology major has opened up my eyes so much to the patterns of behaviors, as well as studied reasons behind why people do the things that they do. As I study, I also study myself and learn more about who I am and how my mind works. Not only this, but I begin to have a little empathy for my father and how he treated my family. I'm not making any excuses, but sometimes we don't talk about the havoc addictions can reap on people when it's been so long with no help. With my college degree, I plan to go forward and become a Child Psychologist. Hoping to work with as many kids as I can during my career, I really plan to pour into the children that need help the most. I want to be the help that my sisters needed growing up. I want to be the mental health professional that can see passed their own hurt and empathize with those that crave a certain figure in their life and have nothing to soothe that craving. I know that there are plenty of kids out there just like my sisters and I were, who were confused as to why we have to feel the things that we feel. No child should have to grow up resentful and angry. I feel that every child deserves a fair shot at some form of happiness in life, and I plan to help them get to that. Being involved in my career requires much patience and strength. I know that it's in my best interest to help kids that need it because it should never be a child's job to pick up the pieces all on their own.

The hard breeze blew passed my blazer as I clutched my yellow 'Welcome!' baggie in sheer anticipation. It was a sunny February in Greensboro, North Carolina as we watched students worm their way around our tour group. The tour guide appeared to be too tired for our excitement, we had question after question, and she had answers for all of them. But the one answer that she didn't have was if North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University would be the institution where I spend my next four years of undergrad. The answer was yes. I attended predominantly white schools from kindergarten to senior year, and it's safe to say that I didn't understand the true extent of my blackness. Yes, I was close with my family, but once I entered into those school doors, all bets were off. Being surrounded by kids that didn't look like me all the time made it easy for me to find home in the Historically Black College & Universities that I toured. I attended the Omega Black College Tour in early February of 2020 and it was the most invigorating experience of my life. Seeing students that looked like me interested in furthering their education much like myself is exactly what fueled my inspiration to pursue my degree at an HBCU. After obtaining my degree, I plan to go forward and become a Child Psychologist. I have a strong passion for working with children and for me to be able to do that while making a impact would be a dream. Children all across the world are in need of mental health services but I will make it my duty to do what I can for as many as I can. I look forward to being able to be a guiding light for the children whose minds have locked them into the darkness. Kids should not have to struggle alone, I want them to understand that there is power in getting help. A gap needs to be bridged between children and poor mental health, because many kids feel like a burden for bringing up their feelings. No child should have to suffer alone out of fear of being called "ungrateful" and a "crybaby". I want to leave a positive impact on their minds. Poor mental health is a stigma that consistently affects America. Mental health care is important, yet for many black people, it's hard to find. Black mental health professionals can be rare in some places. But the ones out there now deserve to be celebrated. It takes a lot to put your issues aside to help someone else with their own. Especially as a black person, with the abundance of trauma that comes with being black in America. Reaching the minds of black children will help to turn up the heat on uprooting trauma already deep within their minds. I strongly believe that the mental health field leaves much room for a safer and more creative generation. And I desire to be the one that can assist with that.

Life comes at you really fast. How you respond to the obstacles in life requires you to move even faster. My mom, in my eyes, is the perfect example of what it means to shine in the face of life's obstacles. With three kids in tow, she was able to get us and herself out of our domestically violent household and into safety without question. One thing my father was good at was ruining the harmony of a household. But one of my favorite things about my mom was that she was able to piece that harmony back together without him. Living in the same house as my mom for twenty years has shown me so much. Mother's hold the power to reach their children in ways beyond words, especially girls. I grew up looking up to my mom and I don't think that I'll ever stop. My mother has shown me how to get a job, how to keep one, the importance of school and keeping my grades up. Along with how to keep my grades up, she's shown me something most important to where I'm currently at in life, the importance of getting a college degree. My mother has opened up my eyes to the future that I can create for myself with the obtaining of my degree and the crafting of my future when I upgrade said degree in graduate school. Out of my two older sisters, I am the only daughter that is interested in college. I really think that my mom takes pride in the fact that I plan to follow in her footsteps, somewhat. I say somewhat because my mom made it to her Masters degree in Psychology. I plan to receive my PhD. My mom put getting her PhD on hold in order to help put my through college. Growing up in single parent households are not perfect nor easy. I'm sure many children would love to have both parents in the house with them to be there for every moment in life. Not having both parents in life can do much damage, but what is important is the parent in the household that remained to pick up the slack for the other. The nights they spend making sacrifices for us and holding back tears are the nights where we get to smile and enjoy our childhood, remaining naive to the many struggles they have to deal with. I plan to retire my mother one day. For her to finish writing her own story after she spent years trying to help me write mine would be my greatest dream. With my career in Child Psychology working with children who need guidance seeing the value in their own stories, I plan to do my best to give back to the mom who saw value in me. The love I received from others during my 20 years around the sun fuels me to pour love into every child that I will help in my career. While I'm still in college currently, I never refrain from community outreach opportunities, organizations, or even jobs that push me to be there for any child I can. I have faith that I will soon become the person that younger me needed when I was angry at dad for not being the dad I knew he was supposed to be. But all in all, I will be the person that younger me needed to remind her that mommy had a head full of hair that could wear both hats, and BOY did she put my dad to shame!

In everything I do, I keep my younger self in mind. An insecure young black girl trying to keep up with the crowd is who I am striving to make the most proud. I am determined to show myself that my success was inevitable and not just "possible". Graduating myself from being most likely to give up to most likely to succeed is my best wish. I know there are thousands of children in this world who are unsure of what tomorrow looks like. Taking each day a day at a time miserably dragging through life due to unfortunate circumstances. In my case, these circumstances were self inflicted as I had tricked myself into a feeling of inadequacy so well that my failure became imminent. In my eyes, I was nothing more than the black girl who stood out from everyone else in class. There was to be nothing more to me than an eventual high school diploma and a pat on the back. Out of my two older sisters, I am the only daughter who has strived for and is striving for a college degree. Currently studying at North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University, my major is Psychology and my minor is Child Development and Family Studies. When I graduate college I plan to receive my Masters and then my Doctorate, as well as jump head first into mental healthcare, preferably working with children. Working with children is my ultimate passion not just because I became an aunt at the ripe age of 11, but because I am in awe of the unlimited power that children hold within their minds. I had no choice but to love and be an aunt to my 9 nieces and nephews, but there is much to say about the choice I am making to be a mental health professional for the future children that I will help. As a future Child Psychologist, it is my upmost responsibility to be an impactful figure in the minds of the children that need it most. I want to be the person that the younger me needed. And I know that I will be. My family cheering for me on the sidelines is not the only thing that fuels me to finish my 4 years of undergraduate studies, but it is my fervency and passion for proving my past self wrong. The little girl who once believed she wasn't capable of accomplishing much because of the color of her skin is now striding on the path to graduating from a Historically Black College and University. And she will go forth to receive more degrees to ensure that she is properly equipped to help a surplus of young children who were just like her. I will do this because I am passionate in the fact that every young generation has the power to be their greatest no matter the circumstance. Every young child deserves to know the power that they hold in their present and in their future.

"Enjoy your life without bills now," Adults around me say. Doesn't matter if it comes from my family, friends, coworkers, or strangers on the street, it all brings the same thought to my mind. If my current bank account looked like this in a few years, I'd be in trouble. How could I possibly enjoy my life while having to be reminded of what's to come in the future? The nice cars, house, clothes, vacations, mean nothing when stress is tied to it. Not to mention, the future child tugging at my pants leg for the snack off the top shelf. We live in a capitalist world amongst the age of hustle culture. Emerging adults such as myself fall victim to trying to 'keep up', comparing ourselves and our livelihood to what we see on social media. Although we are still young, it's easy for us to forget our age and think we are supposed to be doing more than we actually can. But all I can do in this, is hold on to every token of advice I receive from those who've already experienced my age before. My most important piece of advice that I was ever given from anyone regarding financial matters was that being intentional with your money is important. Creating and maintaining a healthy balance between work and play is most important. Sprinkle a good portion of saving up and building credit on there, and you're set! This is the token I hold on to as I strive for my degree. I follow this advice now and I know that it'll be especially helpful in the future when I actually do begin paying my own bills. And hopefully by then, I'll have more than enough room for play.

"Every runner shall find their rest," Replays over and over in my mind whenever I find myself going through a panic attack. At a certain point in my mental health journey, I let go of my habit of running from the things that didn't feel good. Running from my problems gave me no peace, it normally made me feel worse in the long run. Once my feelings caught up to me, their was nothing left for me to do but find rest in whatever situation it was and pass it up to God. My practical solution for those who struggle with their mental health is to find solace in your faith. Often times we get so caught up in what we're going through that we forget that we do not have to figure it out on our own. Finding peace in your struggle doesn't mean that it'll just vanish immediately, but that it won't last forever. I show my faith best through prayer & journaling because I feel that these two things help me unload my mind and hand my problems over to God successfully. I find rest in letting God take on whatever I'm struggling with. Through this, I can have faith that it won't be long until it's over. Some issues simply need a higher power to have their way, and it is then where the real solutions begin. Once I realized I was only running against myself and that the race led to nowhere, I found rest in understanding only God knows how to get to the finish line.

"Brianna, this should be your birth control. Don't end up like me." My older sisters will often tell me as my nieces and nephews jump from one ceiling beam to another menacingly. Every time, I laugh along with a nod. Little do they know, a rowdy child isn't enough to keep me away. If I could pick one passion and nothing else for the rest of my life, it'd definitely have to be children. Although they can be rude, messy, naive, obnoxious...the list can go on. There is still something about them that makes them all the more interesting and genuinely fun to be around. Yes, they are a lot to handle but so am I and there is totally nothing wrong with that. Children, to me, bring light to rooms that need it most. Their curious minds make for great experiences where you get to learn more about yourself, them, and the level of patience you have for their shenanigans. Becoming an aunt at the ripe age of 11 showed me a lot. I learned that newborn babies are actually not just a photo opp. And while simultaneously trying to support their heads and their little body in my small little preteen hands, I noticed that babies hold so much promise. A small brain rapidly forming by the minute is able to grow up into an optimistic child with the world on their shoulders and a backpack full of dreams. What I love about kids the most is the fact that they have no limit to their imaginations, nor are those imaginations ever kept a secret from anyone in close proximity to them. My passion for children has without a doubt inspired me to become a Child Psychologist. Many of times, the dreams of a child get lost in the reality of life and force them to shut out the best part of being a kid. By working with children of all ages, I think that It'd be nice to remold the minds of kids who felt like their dreams went sour. It's so important for children to understand their worth, even at a young age. For a child to know themselves and understand the magic that they are able to create in their minds is powerful, and I feel that every child should have that opportunity. While I major in Psychology and minor in Child Studies and Family Development, learning to understand the mind of a child is crucial. For me to study how to best understand my passion would solve years of childhood trauma for myself and help prevent or stop childhood trauma for any other child. Because after all, a kid is going to be a kid at the end of the day. I want to keep making sure that they enjoy their days as kids should. My passion gave me a sense of great hope for my future. The dreams I have of becoming a Child Psychologist lay cradled in God's hands as he paves a way for me to live to see that reality.

Growing up as a child, my mom would always lick my tears when I cried. As weird as it sounds, it brought humor to whatever it was that I was crying about. Granted, the reason I'd have been crying was probably something small. But my mom never shamed me for crying or ever told me to stop. One thing that I did take notice about my mother during my twenty trips around the sun was the fact that I've never seen my mother cry. One quality about my mom that sticks out most to me would be elastic. No matter how much you stretch her, she always comes back better than how she was before. The name of this scholarship is 'Supermom', so it's only right to deem my mom the true 'Elastigirl'. Although Elastigirl is a fictional character, there's nothing fictional about my moms life. The relationship between my father and mother is very tainted. Shades of black and blue bleed onto every memory my mom tells me about him, I was only two years old when they divorced. My father smashed our family life to pieces and I don't have the strongest relationship with him. Being on her own with three kids, mom had to do her best to pick up the pieces silently and without complaint. And I'd be a fool to say that she didn't do a good job. We never went a day without food on the table, clothes on our back, or a roof over our heads. We had many reasons to smile while she had many reasons to cry. I got my first job at 15 years old. I remember being so happy to finally start earning my own money so I could get my own whiff of being independent. I used to pride myself for having the work ethic that my mom always had. I still do. My mom would take on three jobs if it meant that her kids wouldn't have to worry. I watched my mom battle Breast Cancer and chemotherapy whilst refusing to stop working because she wanted to make sure that I was able to keep attending college. If there was anything that I or my older sisters would ask for or needed help with, my mother would never fail to come to our aid. What inspires me most about my mom is her strength. I know that's a typical answer but I feel that my meaning for it goes deeper than the word itself. My mom always told me that she named me Brianna because it meant strong. I always wonder why she did that because I'll never be nearly as strong to the magnitude that she is. I plan to retire my mom one day so that she'll never have to work hard again. Her work ethic is inspiring but she deserves a break from it. My mom deserves to be freed from tiring herself out in the name of staying afloat. And I'd love to be the one to deliver that to her. She put her Doctorate degree on hold so that I'd finish college and she deserves to resume her studies. My mom deserves every blessing God has for her, because quite frankly, they already had her name on it. My mom deserves to cry. Not tears of sadness or defeat but tears of relief. Relief from a life that forced her to be resilient when she had no strength left to give.

One thing that gives me hope for the future is my faith in God. God has shown me time and time again why he is worthy of his praise and all I need to do is continue to trust and thank him. Since growing up in church all of my childhood, the word of God has been instilled in me from a young age. Because of this, I know the importance of calling on God and being patient. God can move mountains in any situation, big or small. One thing that I am thankful for is the fact that God always has the final say. My faith in God gives me hope that the future will be better because God is the author of the future. All of life's events are not new to God, as he has already set the path for everything. God has always made ways for me in my life. Whenever things start to look topsy turvy, God sets every wayward path straight. On days when we need him most, he's always there. And he will never leave our side so long as we never leave his. This world needs the Lord like never before. All we need is a simple touch from him and all problems shall cease. His power is so mighty that he can move a mountain, maybe even three. Staying faithful to God and remaining focused on the betterment of the future gives me hope. This is because I can now understand that no matter what situation I find myself in, God will always find a way to work it out. This world is dying and this world is sick, and the only one that can truly lift us up is our faith in God. And that is something that I am afraid to lose.

If I could only choose one major takeaway from my sophomore year of college, it would be to prioritize a healthy mindset. This should be done as much as possible and should never be taken for granted. I mentally suffered through my sophomore year and I feel like most of my days were spent with a dark cloud over my thoughts. It took a while for me to sit back and really think about how the state of my mind ultimately affects everything in my life. And my motivation to change that began. My all time favorite mental health tip is Prayer. I am a devout Christian, I have been raised in Pentecostal churches all of my life. Prayer changes my life. Being able to speak to God at any point in my day gives me a way to get things off of my chest and give them to God instead. As most humans do, we tend to try to take on the weight of our problems ourselves without making an effort to hand them over to the one who can fix them with the snap of a finger. God loves when we speak to him, but he really loves when we trust him. Prayer helps to keep my thoughts at bay. Another tip that I love to help keep my mind clear is journaling. Growing up, journaling was never my favorite because I felt like nothing was getting done. I'd have written my thoughts down on pages and pages only to have a cramped hand and a jumbled mind. It took me until recently to realize that for me to thoroughly enjoy journaling, I had to take my time and slow my mind down. I let my thoughts flow steadily and gave my hands time to catch up as I wrote. Instead of writing like time was escaping me, I wrote like I was actually trying to clear my head. And ever since I began doing that, I'd feel lighter after I journaled. My last and final mental health tip regarding a clear mind is reading your Bible. Since I am a Christian, tapping into God's word is crucial. Whenever I am feeling like my mind is going left, I grab my Bible, journal, highlighter and pen. Normally I like to pick a word that best matches what I'm dealing with and look for a scripture that'd best help with that. One scripture that I most recently used to help my negative thoughts was Psalm 139: 23-24 "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life." I used this scripture to help me with staying positive today. And after I find my scripture I repeat it aloud as many times as needed, write it down, and pray on it. I ask God for help supplementing it into my life and what I'm going through. Doing things to maintain a clear mind should be the top priority in everyone's lives. It makes life way more worth living and replaces the dark cloud with sunny skies. I love the idea of doing things to keep my mind at bay because when I feel better I do better. I'd hate to potentially miss out on blessings because my mind held me back.

The smell of a new book was like my kryptonite. Every step I took into the bookstore as a child shaped me into the woman that is writing this paper today. The countless words I read as a child manifested into countless words written on paper. My imagination keeps me young and free, no matter how old I get. The passion my younger self had for reading will never leave me. It only makes my passion for writing grow stronger. As a child, reading always captivated me. I always found myself getting lost in a story and losing track of time. My love for reading eventually fostered into my love for writing, as I started admiring the ability to create stories. Using my imagination to piece together endless scenarios and storylines opened up my eyes to take notice that writing was one of my God-given talents. One that I am oh so thankful for. Talent or not, it's important for me to keep honing my skill of writing. In order to do this, I love to expand my horizons. Whether it be through learning new vocabulary or different ways to get a point across, I enjoy giving myself extra ways to transfer my imagination into words. The best way to do this is for me to honor my timeless love for reading and observe the many ways that authors decide to tell their stories. This gives me a reason to open up my eyes to how others convey their imagination and it inspires me to find more ways to convey my own. For me to ever lose my love for writing would be like a funeral to my dreams.

1. I deserve this scholarship because I need a way to fund my pizza addiction. Ever since I've been introduced to the glory that is the triangle shaped food dripping with grease, cheese, tomato sauce and any topping of your choice I knew that I needed to spend the rest of my life funding my love for it. 2. My career goals are to be a zookeeper where I get to feed each animal a large slice of chocolate cake every morning. Supplying each of the animals I care about with my favorite dessert would be truly amazing. The icing on the cake is that I am living my dreams and this scholarship will help that! 3. A time I overcame an obstacle was when I walked across the stage at my graduation and my principal ripped up my diploma. Standing in front of him waiting to come in contact with my final piece of gratification from high school only for it to be literally ripped from my hands was traumatizing. I overcame this by stepping on his foot and grabbing the diploma of the person behind me.

When my sister Amanda turned 18, she moved out of the house. I, at the ripe age of 7, watched with wide eyes as my mom and dad packed up all her things and loaded them into the car. She was off to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to stay with a friend she knew down there. She also wanted a fresh start. This desire for a fresh start was painstakingly similar in my other older sister's move to Pasadena in Cali but this move felt a little different, and my 7 year old mind couldn't quite figure out why. Growing up I always noticed my mom allowing Amanda to be a free spirit, and not a free spirit in a good way. A lot of the things Amanda would do made my mom upset but she never really acted on it. I never thought much of it because Amanda always let me hang out with her cool friends and watch all of the R-rated movies that mom barred me from. Another thing about Amanda was that she had a short fuse, one wrong word or action towards her would be the straw that broke the camels back. She would lose all her marbles over losing a board game or even someone drinking the last of her juice. My mom's way of allowing Amanda to be a free spirit in her teens didn't begin to bother me until I actually got to my teens. The things Amanda did were no longer available to me and the rules were much stricter. So contrary to my 7 year old self who turned a blind eye to it, I had 20/20 vision and was ready to inquire. "Your sister has been through a lot," She'd say. And that'd only make me upset because it felt as if I was getting the short end of the stick to a life that was not as fun and free willed as hers. Taking a deeper look at what life was like for my older sisters gave me a better clue at why Amanda acted the way she did and why my mom didn't do anything about it. The relationship between my biological father and my mother was pretty much severed when Amanda had to save my older sister from being strangled by my father. My father was a raging alcoholic who had no regard for controlling his temper when he had too many beers. The trauma Amanda had gotten from that night, coupled with the drama that ensued many nights prior to that one was enough for my mom to say "Okay" to her mood swings and bratty tendencies. While my older sister was already 18 when my parents split, her quick move to California for a fresh start was justified. But Amanda was still in high school, and my mom couldn't afford to let her drop out in the name of wanting a fresh start like her older sister. So her fresh start came in the way that we moved an hour upstate and she got to do whatever she wanted. Amanda's short fuse was soon diagnosed as severe bipolar disorder and moderate depression. After a few trips to the Psychologist in her 20's, she finally began getting the treatment she deserved. I also finally stopped putting the blame on my mom for letting her do whatever she wanted, because my mom just felt bad. My mom knew that there was more to the door slamming and bailouts from jail. Amanda needed serious help and that was something that fresh starts could never fix. Observing my older sister's experience with her mental health fueled my passion to be of service to people who are just like her. Although I couldn't see it at 7 or even at 16, there's always going to be more to someone besides their temper. Some traumas cannot be healed alone and sometimes people need a serious helping hand to see beyond the mind fog. I aspire to be that helping hand. I truly love the idea of becoming a Clinical Psychologist with a heavy focus on adolescents. In my eyes, some children and teens don't always know how to speak up properly about how they feel and bottled up emotions get the best of their mind. The world likes to paint mental health as something that can be worked through with Pinterest quotes and self care days, but sometimes the need for it goes way deeper than that. I believe that every child deserves the proper tlc(time, love, and care) to ensure that the scar of poor mental health doesn't severe our appreciation for the good things in life.

A sweat bead began to form as I sat. My mouth felt dry and no amount of water or juice could save me. My feet felt like they were stuck in quicksand as I sunk lower and lower to the table, hoping to not be seen. Grandma told me not to get up from my seat until I finished my plate. My parents never told me much about my eating habits growing up. I never got told to "slow down" or "watch how much you eat", rather I was always told the opposite. There was never a time where I was able to get up from the table with food still on my plate. Being taught that wasting food was bad made me to believe that it was okay to overeat in the name of being grateful. Because after all, there are people out there who don't have the blessing of consistent food on the table right? I am the black swan of the family because I gain weight fairly quick. My older sisters have been skinny all their life as well as my mom. At family events I become the squish toy that everyone gets to squeeze and tell me that I'm putting on weight and to save some for everyone else. The shape that I am in today is a result of the hard work being put in to reverse the 18 years of poor eating habits and incorrect ideologies about eating. As a child I used to think that it was okay to eat whatever you wanted as long as it wasn't too much. I never put much thought into how much the food we ate affected us until I began seeing the results of it on my own body. From there I formed my own version of an unhealthy relationship with food. Every bad meal began feeling like a sin and I'd trick myself into thinking that one meal missed was award worthy. "Praying my gut away" started becoming my thing as I wished that I'd never look fat. It took work to reverse the unhealthy relationship with food that I once had. I'm 20 years old now and I drive so trips to the gym are frequent and I've been working on maintaining a nice and healthy figure. Figuring out ways to enjoy my food without cutting out everything has been the diamond in the rough for me because I truly feel that it shouldn't have had to go this far. I shouldn't have had to teach myself how to eat better. I feel like learning how to treat my body better was something that should have came from my household before anything else. Learning about the importance of fruits and vegetables and a well rounded plate did nothing for me when I went home to junk. Any person on this planet with a desire to improve their own body image and repair their relationship with food is doing something beautiful for not only themselves but their family as well. Being a good influence for the stubborn loved ones around us does the most good because it shows them that it can be done and although it's hard, it's worth it. My fervency for a healthy lifestyle not only will impact my own future but my legacy. And that gives me a feeling of accomplishment that countless hours on the treadmill will never give me.

When my sister Amanda turned 18, she moved out of the house. I, at the ripe age of 7, watched with wide eyes as my mom and dad packed up all her things and loaded them into the car. She was off to Baton Rouge, Louisiana to stay with a friend she knew down there. She also wanted a fresh start. This desire for a fresh start was painstakingly similar in my other older sister's move to Pasadena in Cali but this move felt a little different, and my 7 year old mind couldn't quite figure out why. Growing up I always noticed my mom allowing Amanda to be a free spirit, and not a free spirit in a good way. A lot of the things Amanda would do made my mom upset but she never really acted on it. I never thought much of it because Amanda always let me hang out with her cool friends and watch all of the R-rated movies that mom barred me from. Another thing about Amanda was that she had a short fuse, one wrong word or action towards her would be the straw that broke the camels back. She would lose all her marbles over losing a board game or even someone drinking the last of her juice. My mom's way of allowing Amanda to be a free spirit in her teens didn't begin to bother me until I actually got to my teens. The things Amanda did were no longer available to me and the rules were much stricter. So contrary to my 7 year old self who turned a blind eye to it, I had 20/20 vision and was ready to inquire. "Your sister has been through a lot," She'd say. And that'd only make me upset because it felt as if I was getting the short end of the stick to a life that was not as fun and free willed as hers. Taking a deeper look at what life was like for my older sisters gave me a better clue at why Amanda acted the way she did and why my mom didn't do anything about it. The relationship between my biological father and my mother was pretty much severed when Amanda had to save my older sister from being strangled by my father. My father was a raging alcoholic who had no regard for controlling his temper when he had too many beers. The trauma Amanda had gotten from that night, coupled with the drama that ensued many nights prior to that one was enough for my mom to say "Okay" to her mood swings and bratty tendencies. While my older sister was already 18 when my parents split, her quick move to California for a fresh start was justified. But Amanda was still in high school, and my mom couldn't afford to let her drop out in the name of wanting a fresh start like her older sister. So her fresh start came in the way that we moved an hour upstate and she got to do whatever she wanted. Amanda's short fuse was soon diagnosed as severe bipolar disorder. After a few trips to the Psychologist in her 20's, she finally began getting the treatment she deserved. I also finally stopped putting the blame on my mom for letting her do whatever she wanted, because my mom just felt bad. My mom knew that there was more to the door slamming and bailouts from jail. Amanda needed serious help and that was something that fresh starts could never fix. Observing my older sister's experience with her mental health fueled my passion to be of service to people who are just like her. Although I couldn't see it at 7 or even at 16, there's always going to be more to someone besides their temper. Some traumas cannot be healed alone and sometimes people need a serious helping hand to see beyond the mind fog. I aspire to be that helping hand. I truly love the idea of becoming a Clinical Psychologist with a heavy focus on adolescents. In my eyes, some children and teens don't always know how to speak up properly about how they feel and bottled up emotions get the best of their mind. The world likes to paint mental health as something that can be worked through with Pinterest quotes and self care days, but sometimes the need for it goes way deeper than that. I believe that every child deserves the proper tlc(time, love, and care) to ensure that the scar of poor mental health doesn't severe our appreciation for the good things in life.

My ears and nose filled up with steam and my face reflected a shade of deep crimson red. I never felt a feeling like this before, I felt like a character out of an animated movie. Just like the theatrics in those movies are superficial, that first sentence was too. But my feelings behind it were still very much valid. And that feeling was anger. The cause of that anger was something that my younger self back then knew nothing about. It was the feeling of not being good enough. My first problem with my confidence came when I was around seven years old. I remember being on a field trip with my class and I was walking next to my friend Guy. It was going to be his birthday in a few days and he was having a birthday party that weekend to celebrate. The whole class got invited. As patient as my seven year old self could possibly be, I didn't quite understand why I heard everyone around me talk about their invitations when I still never got one. So as he walked next to me I politely tapped his shoulder, and asked. Guy said to me that "His parents said that I was not welcome in their house." Now, growing up as a young black girl in a class full of students that look nothing like you, it sucks. At such a young age, I didn't take much from Guy's statement but the idea that there was truly something wrong with me. Because why else wouldn't I have been invited? So from around that point up until my Junior year of high school, I set my goals on being included. I didn't care if that meant hating my appearance and ultimately my blackness because in my eyes I wasn't worthy enough to be as accepted as everyone I attended school with. I value the characteristic of unwavering confidence. And I say unwavering because confidence alone is great, but it's about how strong that confidence is when your biggest adversary walks in that room. Are you going to shrink yourself in the name of keeping the peace? Or are you going to maintain your posture and remained focused on why you're in the room? I got tired of being the former, I wanted to be the latter. I hated the fact that I became comfortable with shrinking myself in order to feel important. But what I wasn't realizing was the fact that loving who I was above all would give me the feeling of importance I longed for. Having confidence will help me in my life journey by letting me stay true to myself and my goals. Confidence gives me the strength to know that whatever I put my mind to and believe in, will always work out for me in the end. Now it may not give me the exact result that I was looking for, but I know that God will work out whatever I asked for as he sees fit in my life. And by remaining confident in myself, my goals, and God, the life that I live will be all the more better. I no longer have to be angry about being rejected anymore, because all I know is that God is just protecting and projecting me towards the exact place that he wants me to be in. And that place is always going to be better than the one I was denied from.

If I were to sit here and write an essay on a million and one ways why I feel underprivileged and thus worthy and righteous enough to receive this scholarship, I'd be a lie. But one thing I can sit here and say is why I feel as though this scholarship would be of good service to me based off of the obstacles life has thrown at me in my twenty trips around the sun. My name is Brianna Kyla Carter. My mother named me Brianna because she read somewhere that it means "strong". Kyla is my middle name because my mom let my nine year older sister come up with it. And Carter is my last name because it's my father's last name. The same father who has been inactive all my life and only shows up sporadically throughout the years. I am a junior in college, and I thoroughly feel that I am a diligent student. I go to North Carolina Agricultural & Technical State University. It's the school of my dreams, but me being an out of state student, it's a nightmare on the pockets. But the flip side is that my mother has a good heart and a deep love for her child. I didn't take out that many loans, as she didn't want too many strings of debt tied to her name or mine. So most of my tuition costs come out of pocket, it's a blessing that I'm still able to attend this school. Every year is pretty much a toss up and it forces me to appreciate every semester I can attend this school without financial aid ringing my line. I have two older sisters, they didn't finish college. So in all honesty, in my family's eyes I am the sole survivor. The one set to make Forbes. The one set to upstart the generational wealth in the name of the family. I don't mind the pressure, I just wish it didn't come with the cost of worrying about my financial aid. I've always made good grades in school, had perfect attendance, and completed all my work. I'll never toot my own horn but finishing college is very important to me. Being the only sister to actually walk across the stage and receive my college diploma from the #1 Public Land Granted HBCU would mean the world to me. College is not only important to me because I'm the only one of my sisters to follow through with it, but because I have a reason to believe in myself with unwavering faith. My mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer last year and beat it. My step father was diagnosed with Liver Cancer and had 43 days left to live. One thing that both of them had was faith. And with faith, they got through it. Now I may not be battling a deadly illness, but their faith inspires me to be generous with my own. I always wondered why my mom chose my name. How did she know I was going to be strong? When I look at myself, I don't really know what I see. Strong is a good word for it I'd say, because mentally I am strong. Strong enough to know that no matter what, God has a plan for me. And no matter what happens, I will be walking across that stage and collecting my college diploma. Even if I have to hold back tears of disbelief. Thank you.

The hard breeze blew passed my blazer as I clutched my yellow 'Welcome!' baggie in sheer anticipation. It was a sunny February in Greensboro, North Carolina as we watched students worm their way around our tour group. The tour guide appeared to be too tired for our excitement, we had question after question, and she had answers for all of them. But the one answer that she didn't have was if North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University would be the institution where I spend my next four years of undergrad. The answer was yes. I attended predominantly white schools from kindergarten to senior year, and it's safe to say that I didn't understand the true extent of my blackness. Yes, I was close with my family, but once I entered into those school doors, all bets were off. Being surrounded by kids that didn't look like me all the time made it easy for me to find home in the Historically Black College & Universities that I toured. I attended the Omega Black College Tour in early February of 2020 and it was the most invigorating experience of my life. Seeing students that looked like me interested in furthering their education much like myself is exactly what fueled my inspiration to pursue my degree at an HBCU. My first experience with social justice was when I was 9 years old. I was in my mom's room, she had just finished doing my hair for school and I was getting ready to go to bed. Trayvon Martin flashed across the screen as the news reporter reported his tragic death. I was a little too young to understand what was happening but I knew it was bad. As I grew older, it became clear to me that situations like that in this country are not uncommon. Social justice means more to me now than it ever did. I will never again find myself dimming down my blackness just to feel accepted in a world that will never accept me. Seeing people who look just like me be wrongfully accused, killed, and discriminated against solely because of the color of their skin is extremely painful to see. If I was ever in the position to do more to help I would, but for now all I can do is support and pray. I love being of service to my community. On campus I am apart of many organizations, National Council of Negro Women Inc., Brown Girl White Coatt, and Association of Black Psychologists. We have done donation drives, trash cleanups, snack pack organizations, and many other community outreach opportunities. Off campus I hold the position of a Teacher's Assistant at a local church. Here, I am given the opportunity to assist the teacher with the education of students aged 4-10. This not only gives me the opportunity to gain experience in my future career of choice as a Child Psychologist but to also help shape the minds of growing children. In the approaching summer I plan to give back to my community by participating in my church and remaining active in community outreach activities. All in all, I would not trade my HBCU experience for the world. It allows me to keep my eyes open about the many injustices in this world and to strive to be a beacon of success despite the obstacles put in front of me. My focus on remaining humble and staying active in my community keeps me connected to my roots and those who support me while motivating them to be the best that they can be.

In my opinion, life is most enjoyable when each day is taken one at a time. There is no reason to rush through life and get angry at whats not happening in the current moment. Sometimes, there is power in the feeling to just simply 'be', and that's it. A simple way to put it is mindfulness. Mindfulness is by far the most important life lesson that I've learned thus far. My twenty years of living were mostly spent worrying about what the next person was doing. One bad habit that budded in my childhood and grew into my womanhood was the spirit of comparison. As a little girl I spent so much time comparing myself to my classmates, and this continued on into my teenage years where I'd compare myself to the women I saw on social media. In this generation, everything is about keeping up. As woman growing up in this generation there's this push to be better, if not just as good as the women next to you. We all want to be the 'IT Girl', but we want to achieve it in one day and nothing longer. As I grow older, I'm slowly learning what it feels like to release the attraction of trying to be someone that I'm not. I'm learning that me becoming the woman that I desire to be is not going to be achieved in one day, or not even two. Slow and steady is what wins the race, and each step I take per day all will eventually push me forward to my destination. While I may not be striving to be society's person of the 'IT Girl' anymore, I'm striving to be my own version of a well rounded woman. A woman who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. A woman who is patient and not worrying about who did it first, but about who does it best. My goals won't be achieved overnight, and they certainly won't be achieved if I spend every day hyper focused on the day ahead of me. Learning to slow down and live my life the way that God wants me to live it has removed the pit of anxiety that wrecked my mind and helped me to be more grateful for the things that I do have in the current moment. It helped me to be more confident in the things that I have achieved, and be more understanding of the things that I know I will achieve in due time. The future I want for myself is not solely contingent upon my current actions, but how I move with stealth to ensure that each step I take sets me forward instead of back. And if I do go backwards, this lesson teaches me not to stress myself and spend every second of my day scared of what the next day will look like if I stop and smell the roses. I'm learning to smell the roses this time and enjoy my life. And it will fall into place just the way God plans for it too.

My mother is a fighter. One thing I pride my mother in most is how perseverant she is. Well, resilient is a better word for it. Despite every setback she's been through, she never failed to provide for my two older sisters and I. She always made it a point to ensure that we had all that we needed without having to struggle to get it. As a child I was a bit blind to many of the struggles she had to go through due to my naive eyes. However, as I grew older I started putting the pieces together and quickly learned that there definitely was more to her poker face than I thought. In my 20 years of life, I've never seen my mother cry. She raised my sisters and I in the church, and we never missed a Sunday. Prayer in our house wasn't as option, it was a need. My mom, by the grace of God, is a 9/11 survivor, a domestic violence survivor, and a breast cancer survivor. In her lifetime, she's made it through many battles and still continues to give God all of the glory. I am a Sophomore in college attending North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University. I am from New York State and thus an out of state student so my tuition is highly priced. This school that I currently attend was my first choice and I made it my goal to attend this school since I visited it on my first college tour. My mom took on two extra jobs on top of her school counseling job in order to keep me attending this school. Last year, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer and went through chemotherapy and surgeries, she refused to let me stop being a student at the school I loved. She wanted so badly for me to keep going on with my dream even if she had to bend over backwards for it. And she's always been this way. My mother motivates me to be my very best self because I've watched her keep running in a race where obstacles were very frequent. My mother has never been a quitter, and she's never lost her faith. Watching her be steadfast and confident in herself when everything around her pointed left is powerful and eye opening. She persevered and made a wonderful career for herself and earned her masters degree in Psychology, and is going forward in order to earn her PhD. She continues to push me to strive to stay in school and be focused. Watching her get up everyday and be the powerhouse she is is more than enough motivation I need. I plan to go forward and ultimately earn my PhD in Psychology. I'd like to become a Clinical Child Psychologist and eventually own my own practice on day. Being in a field where I get to enjoy my passion is something that I desire most and I know that through faith and perseverance, it is attainable. And I know that I can do it because I am my mother's child. I am strong.

My name is Brianna Carter, I am a Sophomore majoring in Psychology and minoring in Child Development and Family Studies. I currently attend a Historically Black University, and although I am grateful for the blessing that it is to even be able to attend this school, I must acknowledge the challenges I faced to get here. I was born in the Bronx, NY but I was raised in a small town called Yorktown Heights, located in upper Westchester, NY. The ethnicity demographic in that area leaves little room for diversity, and although the schools are good, the representation for people of color is lacking. I have attended predominantly white schools my whole life, and I feel that this was both a blessing and a curse. I grew up hating myself for being different, I hated my skin and everything that made me black. As a young girl, going to school and sticking out was one thing, but being treated like I stuck out was another. I wanted so badly to look like my other friends, enough to the point where I was ready to pray my blackness away. I did not know or appreciate myself for who I was and I wasn't willing to figure it out either. This was a challenge that I feel like was the biggest thing I ever had to overcome because it was a matter of me choosing to thrive amongst the circumstances I was given or let the circumstances make me. I didn't choose to grow up under represented, but I did have the willpower to choose how I went about it. It is by God's grace and his mercy that I was able to figure out who I was and find solace in being different than those I hung around. Yes, it was hard to look passed the "Can I touch your hair?" questions, and the "I'm so sorry" stares whenever the topic of slavery came up in class; but I wouldn't have it any other way because I can only appreciate the fact that I was able to love myself despite all of the micro aggressions set against me. Now, as a proud black woman, I am all for giving back. In my life I really want to put emphasis on helping those who are in the same shoes that I was in a few years ago. When I become a Child Psychologist, I want every black child that I work with to know their worth. I want them to know it like the back of their hand and be ready to brake check anyone who tries to question it. I want every black child to understand their roots, and to acknowledge their blackness in a way that sets them alive in pride. Proud to be who they are and unafraid to be unapologetic. Self awareness is a trait that every black child should have but isn't born with. We need more children who are confident in their blackness no matter what crowd they find themselves in. I know that there are black children all over the world who feel out of place. I also know that I can't help all of them. But what I do know is that while I'm here, and while I'm working on getting my degree, that I am one step closer to being the successful woman I've always dreamt of being. A successful black woman. The woman who the younger me would be proud of.

I pride myself for my accomplishments as well as the future I see for myself. I am currently a Sophomore Psychology student with a minor in Child Development and Family Studies. Being an out of state student, I have had my fair share of ups and downs. I was forced to finish my senior year at home and was completely stripped of my senior experience. The Covid-19 pandemic, beginning up until where it is now, was and is my biggest educational obstacle. Attending predominantly white schools all my years of school, I never had an interest for attending a Historically Black College or University. I didn't find an interest in them until my senior year when I had the opportunity to attend a week long college tour where myself and other black high school students got to tour the south and visit over 10 HBCU's. It was after my birthday when disaster struck like a beam of lightning, and I was face to face with the pandemic as I had to complete the rest of my school year online. It was enjoyable at first because I was personally enjoying the fact that I no longer had to sleep in and could do my schoolwork whenever I pleased. As the months persisted and graduation rolled around with no acknowledgement of having prom or even a graduation ceremony, I was crushed. My hopes of finishing grade school the "traditional way" were squashed. I was grateful to even be on my HBCU campus and have the ability to be immersed in the southern culture that North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University brought me. However, the Covid-19 pandemic made money tight, and on top of that, my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer towards the end of my Fall 2020 semester. I was an out of state college student with no family nearby and I was scared. The threat of going back home due to rising cases was high along with the threat of me having to go back home due to my family not being able to pay my monthly tuition payments. Being the only sibling to be interested in finishing school, my mom was adamant on me continuing to attend the school of my dreams no matter what it costed her. On the other side of the coin, I was battling severe mental issues for the first time in my life. I developed a moderate case of depression as I worried about finances and became anxious over my classes. I was unable to schedule classes due to a tuition payment increase and there was a hold on my account. My schedule got messy when I had to register late and I was anxious if I would even be able to get all the classes that I needed in order to be on track for this semester. It felt like every curve ball was being thrown at me and it was hard to find an outlet for my worries. What I have learned thus far is that life isn't perfect. Although finances are still rough, I know that God has the upper hand. I have been working on being more mindful on how I see things and I'm happy to say that life is starting to look up for me. I'm finding peace with the obstacles I come across because I know that they will only make me stronger in the end. Most of all, I learned that your life is what you make it and it is up to you to believe God while still working in Faith.

The most helpful piece of financial advice that I have ever received is that just because you have money does not mean that it needs to be spent. One of my closest friends gave me this advice and it has helped me tremendously over the past year. Growing up I was never taught how to properly manage my money. My mom always tells me life is short, and when she says this one of the things she's referring to is how I spend my money. As a child I always got whatever I wanted, and when I grew up and started making my own money I made sure that same reputation was kept up. Whenever I wanted something, I got it, and now this has led me into a pit of depletion. Financial anxiety is something that I have developed over the course of the past year. Being an out of state college student with little means of transportation has limited my ability to work as well as my flow of funds. One of my New Year's Resolutions is to be more careful with how I handle my finances. I want to focus more on saving and less on spending. Payday is my favorite day but I plan to lean more on to saving what I get on payday rather than running right to the mall. The friend who gave me this valuable piece of advice is amazing at handle their money so it felt like I was seeing a window to their freedom with them telling me that. I took this advice with more than a grain of salt given my current circumstances and for the sake of my future.

The biggest problem facing the world right now is a lack of compassion for others. Growing up in the state of New York all my life showed me just how rude and inconsiderate people can be. People are willing to hurt others and kick others down in order to get what they want. Lack of compassion is seen everywhere. It's seen on the news when we hear about people getting in bad situations due to someone throwing them under the bus. For example, someone in a position of power losing their job due to a person they were close to creating a lie about them out of malice. And in turn, media shuns the person in question because of the false accusation created about them and the possibility of the accusation being true. In this situation, there is a lack of compassion. The Coronavirus pandemic expresses the lack of compassion for others in this country. When this pandemic first began, the shelves were wiped clean with people stocking up with groceries and supplies for themselves and their families with no consideration for others needing those same things that they would buy in surplus. I know families that had no food or proper household items due to the shelves being completely empty. In my opinion this is not a problem that can be fixed. You can not convince anyone to see others besides themselves and if you do, there's no telling if they'll take your advice. A person with no compassion or interest in being kind to others won't know the fault in their actions until it slaps them in the face. One who is stuck to their ways will most likely forever be that way.

My father was a raging alcoholic who put my family and I through hell for over ten years. He would come home from work and immediately reach for the beer and drink it until he got drunk. Who he was when he was drunk was a monster, and he'd do things that not many fathers should be doing to their children. I have been personally impacted by domestic violence because if it wasn't for certain family members outside of my household, I would have not had the chance to see my family ever again. I was two years old when Child Protective Services visited our house after our neighbors called the cops on my father. He had my older sister pushed against the wall and choking her when the cops came to arrest him. Although he had a long history and criminal record of domestic abuse, this was the first time that CPS had visited our house and was looking for me to be removed from the home. Only a few minutes prior, I was picked up by my God Sister for a sleepover. If I was still in that home, I'd be ripped from my family and uncertain when I'd ever see them again. My father has impacted my life tremendously because he showed me the ugly sides of abuse, and I learned to appreciate my current life without him. To this day, he's remorseful for breaking our family apart and doing all of the nasty things that he did to us growing up. I'v seen and heard things that many young children should never have to go through. My father is still a drunk and I maintain little contact with him. I plan to go forth and become a Psychologist. With my disdain for my past and childhood, I commend my mom for being strong enough to finally walk away from my father. Granted, the last time we were all under one roof he was in handcuffs and put on a restraining order against us for a little while. Nonetheless, she took care of my two older sisters and I on her own with strength and grace. I want to be the one to empower women, with children or not, that there is light on the other side. That their is power in walking away. Yes, some women don't have it easy enough to walk away, but I want to make sure that I am knowledgable on the right resources to point them in the direction to. Support comes in many shapes and sizes and it would be my duty to make sure that they receive it. If they have kids I'd want them to strongly consider keeping them away from their abusive family member. If they have family members I'd do my best to be discreet in arranging safe havens for the women victims to go to when things get too bad. This growing world is full of innovation and ideas that would give these black women another chance. When I was growing up, we were taught of an organization called "Sister's Place" where victims of domestic abuse would be able to seek shelter from their abusers. It's opportunities like that where I would want young black women to find solace in receiving support. I will be the one to direct them to a brighter future ahead that is completely free of darkness. I feel that every black woman deserves that!

In the Spring of my freshman year of college my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. The day she sat my sisters and I down with the news was a hard day because it came out of nowhere. My family never had a history of breast cancer, and for the most part, my mom had always been healthy. It was more of a worry for us than it was for my mom. My mom is strong, but watching her be strong dealing with chemotherapy, as well as the three jobs she had to work in order to keep me in school, was heartbreaking. Despite this, I was attending college out of state and during a pandemic. It was not easy to be positive when I was miles away at school while my mom did the best she could to make the tuition payments every month. Transferring and going somewhere else was not an option, because she admired my love for my HBCU, North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University. She wanted to do all she could to make sure that I could keep attending on campus. I felt like everything reached its peak when it was time for me to register for classes and I could not register due to a financial aid hold on my account. The bill had gotten raised because of the work study job that I had picked up, yet it wasn't even paying me at the current moment. I had to register late, and by then all the classes that I needed were gone and I had to run in circles trying to get my schedule set up on my own. My advisor was not much of a help, he made it seem like me getting help with my schedule was a 'do it yourself' type of thing, so I felt boxed in. It was up to me to make every email count as I emailed countless professors, asking for a capacity override into the classes that I needed to take in order to remain on track with my degree. In cases like these, the listener would ask, what about your father? He couldn't help? The answer is no. My father wasn't interested in helping his daughter attend college in even the slightest. Everything was pretty much left up to my mom as she continued to figure out ways to keep me attending school. Financially, 2021 felt like the worst year of my life. I am still young and learning so I know this will not be the first of my financial hardships, but it was painful to feel like my life was flipped upside down. My mental health was nonexistent, and it didn't help that I'm a psychology major. Learning about the brain and how it functions wasn't much good to me as my brain was torn to pieces worrying about my mom and how hard she had to work for me to even sit in front of my professors every day. Through all this, I am still an out of state college student attending my top choice school. The only difference between the me now and the me last year is that I am a student with faith. I believe that financial aid is something God is in charge of handling, and I know that I will be able to get my degree with grace. I don't know the way he has set out for me, but I'm believing in his mercy to get through every semester that I am blessed to be able to attend.

My name is Brianna Carter, and I am a Psychology major with a minor in Child Developmental and Family Studies. After my bachelor's degree, I plan to go forth and receive my Doctorate. I plan to use my degree to become a Child Psychologist, where I will be a guiding force in the minds of many young children who struggle with mental health and other psychological issues. Giving back is important for our people because it sets the standard for the future generations to do that same thing. Those that are on the receiving end will most likely in turn want to do the same when they get to a better situation, and this keeps the cycle going. A cycle of giving back does a world of good for communities who need it, especially when internal support is slim. As a person direly in need, receiving help from anyone, let alone a donor who was generous enough to give back to their community, can be life saving. This world is so unforgiving, and sometimes people have to make serious sacrifices regarding life or finances just to stay afloat. Giving back, no matter what amount it is, allows for those sacrifices to be a figment of the mind. The platform that I always envisioned myself having was one based around mental health. I love helping people, as it fills a void inside of me that desires to become a legacy before I leave this Earth. Helping people makes me feel like I am leaving a mark on this world somehow. A good mark to be specific. I thrive to help people learn more about their mental health, and why it is so important, as well as why they should care about their own. I see myself owning my own clinic that will be made available to every patient that needs it, as many patients as I can handle. But I do not want to stop there. I would love to donate to help the guidance counselor, social worker, and psychologist departments at every school I've attended since birth. While I wasn't a child that struggled mentally enough to be frequent in those services, I know many children are. For some children, a school mental health professional is the only person they have to confide in. Me donating to those departments would allow for a wider distribution of mental help to be granted for students. I understand just how much Child Care is needed in certain communities, and I want to help with that. Although I wish to thrive off of helping people with their mental health, I've always had a passion for children. I grew up as an aunt since the ripe age of eleven, and ever since then, being an aunt to my nine nieces and nephews brings me joy. I've worked with children at church, school, and even for a few jobs, and I cannot get enough. I want to be the first to own affordable child care centers all over the country. Especially in cities where I know that it is needed most. Having to watch my mom work so hard to make sure I was looked after while she worked, and seeing my sisters do the same for their kids just shows me how much of a need it is. Giving back is something that I'll never regret and I look forward to continuing to be able to do it, whether it is large or small. Knowing I did my part of being a helping hand to at least one appreciative soul gives me everlasting hope.

Growing up I always heard the term 'When life gives you lemons, make lemonade'. In my opinion, whoever came up with that phrase had to be a freshman in college. Because nothing about college is easy, besides the instant meals stashed in your snack bin for when you're slammed with work at 9pm and the cafe is closed. Ever since I was a child, my mom always encouraged me to get a college degree and do something good with my career. Growing up around two older sisters that did not finish college, I couldn't break the promise that I made to my mom about receiving my PhD and moving onto a successful career in Psychology. While my motivation for going to college is not solely because I don't want to disappoint my mom, I do want to make her happy. My degree will not only make her happy, but it'd make me ecstatic to see myself accomplish something so major in my life. An accomplishment such as this opens up the door for a lifetime of success and new achievements surrounding that of the career that I chose. In the Spring of 2020, my mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. The University that I attend is over nine hours away out of state, and tuition costs are higher than we anticipated. The financial aid department at my University is not generous in the slightest, and I cannot register for classes with late payments, so my mom pays most of my tuition out of pocket. Her adamance that I continue school on campus while she dealt with chemotherapy & the turmoils of cancer while still having to make ends meet for my tuition, saddened me. My mom is a fighter, yes, but this was a battle I wasn't comfortable watching her fight. Since then, money has been tighter than it's ever been. I want to finish my four years here at my University but I'm unsure if it's even practical because of the fact that my mom has to do all she can to keep me afloat. She currently works three jobs, and even works on the weekends. My fall 2021 semester was the worst semester I've ever had, financially as well as mentally. The worst of it occurred when I logged onto my school database to register for classes but was denied because of a financial aid hold on my account. The work study job that I had picked up to earn a few extra dollars in turn raised the tuition bill for the month up a few hundred dollars. My mom was barely able to pay the regular amount, let alone the new amount, and I was $600 away from registering for my classes. By the grace of God, I was blessed with the rest of the bill in order to get my schedule set up for next semester. That point in my semester I was able to realize just how much my mom aches for me to succeed. In the future ahead of me, I hope to receive my PhD in Psychology. Currently I am in my Sophomore year at my University, North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University where I am on track to receive my Bachelor degree in Psychology and a minor in Child Development and Family Studies. This scholarship will also assist me in the field of Psychology as it will allow me to be shown more the importance of understanding human behavior and being able to analyze it correctly in order to make proper conclusions. Last semester I took Psychology 150 and that class taught me how to look at graphs and data and make strong hypotheses or conclusions based off of the collected data. This is a common and important procedure for professionals in my field. I also took Psychology 130, also known as Black Psychology. The most valuable piece of knowledge I took away from that class was the concept of Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome and how it results in mental health issues in black men and women today. Every semester I learn something new about my field of interest, and next semester I have the pleasure of taking classes within my minor, Child Development and Family Studies, which will cater more to the niche I want to reach in my career. That niche being children, since I want to go forth to become a Child Psychologist. I have a passion for helping others, and my career field of choice is the epitome of my passion. As a Child Psychologist I will be able to improve the quality of life for children with developmental disabilities by doing the best I can to provide the proper treatments and procedures. In order to do this I need to have the knowledge and training required to conduct those treatments and procedures correctly. My bachelor's degree in Psychology is the first stepping stone to being able to do that. Although I am a Sophomore with ways to go until I reach my desired career path, I know that it will not be easy. I am willing to do what I can to help my mom get me to graduation at my University. My love for Psychology though, is the number one reason behind my motivation to keep going. This Dr. Meme Heineman Scholarship is the fuel I need to keep going even when the signs are pointing towards stop. I believe that I am a strong candidate for this opportunity because I know that I will use it to the highest good in my life. Being able to help others is my passion, but I'd love to help my mom before anything else. Not only that but I love to analyze and learn as much as I can about the human mind and how it operates. The fact that I am going to spend the rest of my life doing it is amazing, and I'm excited to be on this journey. Thank you for listening.

Attending an HBCU has shaped my life for the better. From the time that I made the conscious decision to attend North Carolina Agricultural and Technical State University up until now, I have been equipped with lots of knowledge and motivation for my future goals. My freshman year at my HBCU, I was taught resilience. Having to finish my senior year of high school in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic as well as my freshman year of college, it was challenging to say the least. I was forced to make the most of my circumstances, as although things looked pretty bad, they could've been a lot worse. I was very grateful to even be able to stay on campus both of my freshman semesters. Hailing from New York, it was a big adjustment for me to be nine hours away in North Carolina with no family nearby. Being away from home taught me to be independent and how to branch out and meet new people. Meeting new people made my time at school seem less like a chore but more of a home away from home. My classroom experience mirrored that of what I had to deal with during my pandemic senior year of high school, but it was much more challenging. My classes were hard and seeking help from my professors was slim. I learned the importance of passion my freshman year, as I feel that it was my passion for my major, that being Psychology. Not only this but my passion to be the only sibling that graduated college. I was driven despite my discomfort in my new environment, to make sense of the decision that I made to attend my HBCU. My decision to attend an HBCU was at first because of the fact that I desired to be around like-minded individuals that looked like me. I grew up attending predominantly white schools growing up, and I did not know what it felt like to be represented in the education system. I was tired of being looked over, so I chose my HBCU. However, it was in my Sophomore year, the first semester to be exact, where I was met with some opposition. My mother was diagnosed with cancer a few months prior, and she was still healing. Money was tight, and it was up in the air if I could even make it to campus that semester. Not only that, my family and I were still unsure how I'd even get back to school. Transportation costs were high, and my family wanted to drive without having to dread the drive. Me getting to school was a blessing. But mentally, this was the worst semester of my life. This semester taught me the concept of struggle. No I wasn't struggling completely, as God always has me in the palm of his hand. Yet, internally it felt like a struggle financially and mentally. I was in the worst financial situation of my life, as well as the worst mental state of my life. Finding a job on campus as well as off campus was tough. And finding happiness was also tough as I battled with anxiety and depression. And being so far from home didn't help my case at all. All this to say, as I approach my second semester of sophomore year I have my eyes to the sky as I anticipate the good to come. My goal is to become a Child Psychologist, and I will stop at nothing to become one. I know every battle leads to victory, so I am trusting God.