From a young age, I’ve always been fascinated by buildings and the spaces we live and work in. I’ve wondered how they’re designed, how they function, and how they impact the people who use them. Over time, this curiosity grew into a deep interest in commercial real estate, especially in how properties can be developed and managed to serve both the community and the environment. I’m particularly drawn to sustainable development and urban planning, with a focus on creating eco-friendly spaces that can support both businesses and the people who rely on them. I want to help shape places that foster growth while respecting the environment—something I’m passionate about as I look to build a career in commercial real estate. My interest in real estate became even clearer as I witnessed the effects of poor planning in the neighborhood I grew up in. Seeing firsthand how a lack of infrastructure and thoughtful development could negatively impact a community sparked a desire in me to get involved. I realized how much of a difference well-designed spaces could make, and it motivated me to pursue a path where I could contribute to revitalizing areas and creating sustainable, functional spaces that benefit everyone. I’m excited about the opportunity to help develop buildings and areas that not only support businesses but also promote social well-being, such as LEED-certified buildings or mixed-use developments that serve local populations. Receiving this scholarship would be a huge help in achieving my long-term career goals in commercial real estate. It would ease the financial strain of tuition, giving me more room to focus on my studies and immerse myself in the industry. With the scholarship’s support, I’d have the chance to connect with industry professionals, learn from experienced mentors, and participate in internships that would help me gain valuable hands-on experience. Being part of this scholarship community would motivate me to continue pushing myself toward excellence and pursuing my passion for real estate. The most influential person in my life has been my mother. She’s faced many challenges over the years, but no matter what, she always remains strong and determined. Growing up watching her navigate life with such resilience has shaped the way I approach education and my career. She taught me that education is not just about securing a job but about personal growth and using what you learn to better the world around you. Her unwavering support and belief in me, even when things weren’t easy, inspired me to never settle for less and always strive to be the best version of myself. She’s the reason I’m so committed to pursuing my dreams and giving back to the community that supported me. In the end, my journey toward commercial real estate is driven by the goal of creating spaces that promote both economic growth and environmental responsibility. With the help of this scholarship, I would be one step closer to turning that goal into reality. The lessons I’ve learned from my mother about hard work, perseverance, and the power of education have shaped my path and my dedication to making a positive impact in the world.

Outside of golf, one of my main extracurricular activities is track and field. Track has been a major part of my life for several years, and it’s a sport where I’ve learned not only physical endurance but also mental resilience. I participate in both the 200m and 400m events, pushing myself to achieve personal bests and improving my times each season. Track and field has taught me how to manage my time effectively, as it requires balancing training with academic responsibilities and my involvement in golf. The intensity of competition, the personal challenge, and the camaraderie with my teammates have made track a meaningful part of my life. In college, I am passionate about studying civil engineering. Civil engineering is a field that intrigues me because it combines problem-solving, creativity, and technical expertise to build infrastructure that serves communities for generations. I’ve always been fascinated by how bridges, roads, and buildings are constructed, and I want to be part of the next generation of engineers who can design sustainable, efficient, and innovative structures. Growing up in a family where we often faced financial challenges, I developed a strong desire to create things that not only solve problems but also improve lives and help communities thrive. I believe civil engineering will allow me to do just that—by contributing to the development of sustainable cities and enhancing the quality of life for others. As I pursue my degree in civil engineering, I also plan to give back to my community both during college and after graduation. One of my goals is to help underserved communities by leading projects focused on sustainable development, particularly in areas that lack proper infrastructure. I plan to volunteer with organizations that focus on community outreach and education, helping youth in underprivileged areas gain access to resources that will empower them to succeed. In addition, I’m committed to mentoring high school students, especially those interested in pursuing STEM careers, because I know how important it is to have role models and guidance to navigate the challenges of education and career paths. Receiving the Hulede Collegiate Golf Scholarship would be an incredible opportunity for me. It would significantly ease the financial burden of my college education, allowing me to focus more on my studies and extracurricular activities. Additionally, the mentorship component of the scholarship would be invaluable in helping me navigate the transition from high school to college while balancing my academic and athletic pursuits. The support would provide me with the resources and encouragement to continue improving in golf and pursuing my career in civil engineering, and it would further motivate me to give back to my community as I would be reminded of the generosity that helped me get to where I am. This scholarship would not only impact my collegiate experience but also my future as it would provide a foundation of support, guidance, and inspiration to reach my personal and professional goals. In summary, my passion for track and field, my desire to study civil engineering, my commitment to giving back to my community, and the potential support from the Hulede Collegiate Golf Scholarship would all help shape my future in profound ways. I am dedicated to making a positive impact both in my field and in the lives of others, and this scholarship would allow me to continue pursuing these goals with greater determination and focus.

For most of my life, I believed that success was something I could control. If I trained hard enough, studied long enough, and prepared relentlessly, then my efforts would be rewarded. Track and karate reinforced this idea—I watched myself improve with each hour spent on the track, each drill perfected in the dojo. But then, I learned a lesson that every athlete eventually faces: sometimes, no matter how prepared you are, the outcome isn’t in your hands. I remember standing on the starting line, ready to run what I knew would be one of my best races. My legs felt strong, my training had been flawless, and I had visualized this moment a hundred times. But what I didn’t anticipate was the wind. As soon as I launched from the blocks, an 8 mph headwind hit me like a wall, turning what should have been my fastest race into one of my slowest. I fought against it, but there was only so much I could do. The harder I pushed, the more it pushed back. When I crossed the finish line and saw my time, my heart sank—I had run one of my best races but with one of my worst times. Because of that, I didn’t qualify. It didn’t matter how hard I had worked, how ready I had been. The wind, something completely out of my control, had taken that moment from me. Karate taught me the same lesson, but in a different way. Competing in a foreign country, I stepped onto the mat with confidence, knowing I had the skill and preparation to win. I landed clean, precise strikes—techniques that had scored in every other competition I had fought in. But not a single point was called. The foreign referees either didn’t see them, didn’t value them, or simply weren’t calling points for fighters outside their home country. Meanwhile, every strike from my opponent was rewarded. I wasn’t losing because I wasn’t good enough—I was losing because the system wasn’t in my favor. Both experiences left me feeling powerless. I had done everything right, yet still, I had failed. But over time, I realized something: these moments weren’t failures. They were reminders of a truth I needed to accept—life doesn’t always reward effort with success, and anything can turn a straight path into a winding road. This understanding has shaped me into the person I am today. Instead of dwelling on what I can’t control, I focus on what I can—my response, my resilience, and my ability to keep moving forward. If I let setbacks define me, I would have quit after that race, or after that match. But I didn’t. I took what I learned, adjusted, and kept going. Now, as I look toward my future in civil engineering and real estate development, I know the road won’t always be smooth. Unexpected obstacles will arise—regulations, economic downturns, environmental challenges. But I also know that no setback is final, and no obstacle is unbeatable. I’ve learned to adapt, to push forward even when things don’t go as planned, and to find opportunity even in failure. Because in the end, the strongest runners aren’t the ones who never face the wind—they’re the ones who learn to run through it.

In my community, I noticed a gap—not in talent or potential, but in awareness and access to STEM opportunities. Many students around me didn’t see themselves in science, technology, engineering, or math. Not because they weren’t capable, but because they hadn’t been exposed to the possibilities. STEM felt distant, reserved for others, not for us. I wanted to change that. At 15, I took the first step by launching a summer STEM camp at my family’s training facility. For two weeks each year, the space transformed from a martial arts gym into a hands-on learning lab where kids could explore engineering, coding, and science in a fun and engaging way. We built bridges, programmed robots, and conducted chemistry experiments—all designed to spark curiosity and confidence. I wanted them to feel the thrill of creating something from nothing, to see STEM not as an intimidating subject, but as an exciting world they belonged in. The impact has been inspiring. Some of the students who attended my first camps have since shared their interest in STEM careers—something they once never considered. They no longer see STEM as an exclusive field, but as a real and tangible future for themselves. But this is only the beginning. Moving forward, I want to expand beyond a summer camp into year-round mentorship programs and school partnerships. I want to create ongoing opportunities for students to explore STEM, meet professionals who look like them, and gain the confidence to pursue their passions. Because for me, this is about more than science or engineering—it’s about empowerment. It’s about breaking down barriers so that every child, no matter where they come from, can see their own potential in STEM.

What I love most about our planet is its inborn balance—the way every end sparks a beginning. A fallen tree decays, enriching the soil for new growth. A wildfire rages through a forest, seemingly destructive, yet its flames clear the way for renewal, allowing fresh life to emerge from the ashes. Even in the most untamed moments of nature’s chaos, there is harmony—an unspoken agreement between destruction and creation. Death gives life. Loss brings renewal. This cycle has existed for millennia, shaping the landscapes we admire and the ecosystems we depend on. But what happens when we disrupt that balance? What happens when we take more than we give, when destruction lacks renewal? The more I’ve learned about climate change and environmental degradation, the more I’ve realized that much of the damage we see today is the result of human interference—disrupting the very cycle that makes Earth so extraordinary. Forests are cleared, but nothing is left to regrow. Oceans are polluted, yet nothing is done to restore them. Unlike nature, which replenishes itself, human impact often leaves scars that do not heal. This realization has driven me to advocate for more sustainable practices within my own community. At my school, I noticed how much waste we produced, especially from food scraps and single-use plastics. While nature has an elegant way of recycling its own resources, we often fail to do the same. So, I pushed for a composting system on campus, ensuring that organic waste wouldn’t just be discarded but could be used to enrich the very soil that supports life. What was once seen as trash could now contribute to something new—mirroring the natural balance I admire. I also advocated for more sustainable landscaping practices, encouraging the use of native plants instead of non-native, high-maintenance greenery. Native plants require less water, fewer pesticides, and provide better habitats for local wildlife—allowing nature to work as it was meant to. By integrating these small but impactful changes, I hoped to make my school’s environment a reflection of the planet’s own resilience and wisdom. Beyond advocacy, I strive to live in a way that respects and preserves nature’s balance—reducing my own waste, educating others about sustainability, and finding ways to incorporate environmental consciousness into my future aspirations in real estate and civil engineering. Because at the core of everything I do is a simple truth: we are not separate from nature—we are part of it. And if nature gives as much as it takes, shouldn’t we do the same?

I have always been fascinated by transformation—the ability to take something overlooked, undervalued, or outdated and redefine its purpose. This passion is what led me to STEM, where creativity meets structure and where vision becomes reality. Civil engineering, in particular, excites me because it is a field where I can merge technical expertise with innovation, shaping spaces that don’t just exist but thrive. My passion for redefining value extends beyond engineering; it is also deeply rooted in my vision for real estate. Too often, development is driven solely by profit, neglecting the people who live and work within these spaces. I want to change that. I plan to use my civil engineering degree to start a real estate investment firm that invests just as much in the community as it does in property. By incorporating sustainable design, repurposing neglected buildings, and prioritizing affordable and community-centered projects, I aim to prove that real estate can be both a financial asset and a force for social good. I believe that every space has untapped potential—an old building can become a thriving business hub, a neglected neighborhood can be revitalized into a vibrant community, and an overlooked piece of land can transform into a sustainable development. My firm will not just buy and sell real estate; it will invest in the long-term growth and stability of the neighborhoods it enters. This means designing spaces that foster opportunity—mixed-use developments that encourage small businesses, housing that remains accessible to working-class families, and infrastructure that reflects the needs of the community rather than displacing it. My passion for this work stems not only from my love of engineering but from my deep desire to give back. Growing up, I rarely saw people who looked like me in STEM fields, and I know how powerful representation can be. That’s why I’ve already started taking steps to change this narrative. I created an annual summer STEM camp to introduce young students to the limitless possibilities within science, technology, engineering, and math. Through hands-on projects and mentorship, I aim to show them that STEM is not just a field of study—it’s a tool they can use to build the future they envision. STEM is the foundation that will make my vision possible. Civil engineering will give me the technical expertise to understand the built environment, while business and law will equip me with the knowledge to navigate the complexities of real estate development. Every bridge, every building, every redesigned street has the potential to change lives, and I want to be at the forefront of that change. For me, pursuing STEM is not just about constructing buildings—it’s about constructing a better future. And with the right knowledge, strategy, and commitment, I know I can create spaces that don’t just exist, but empower.

I have always been drawn to the idea of redefining value—of looking at something that others might dismiss as ordinary or outdated and finding within it the potential to become something greater. Whether it was repurposing discarded materials into something beautiful or seeing the untapped possibilities in overlooked spaces, I have long believed that transformation is one of the most powerful forces in the world. That belief is what led me to civil engineering. Civil engineering, to me, is more than just designing structures; it is about reshaping the way we interact with our environment, taking what exists and elevating it into something more sustainable, more innovative, more impactful. I want to use my degree to challenge conventional construction methods, incorporating sustainable materials and adaptive reuse to give new life to spaces that might otherwise be forgotten. My dream is to not just build but to reimagine—to show that architecture and infrastructure can be both functional and revolutionary, reflecting not just where we are but where we aspire to be. Beyond my personal ambitions, I also recognize that I represent a small percentage of those entering this field. Engineering, particularly civil engineering, remains a space where women, and especially women of color, are underrepresented. But I refuse to see that as a barrier. Instead, I see it as a responsibility—a challenge to show others that they, too, belong in this space. I want to give back to my community not just through my work, but through my presence. Growing up, I rarely saw people who looked like me in STEM fields, and I know firsthand how powerful representation can be. That is why I have already begun taking steps to change this narrative. I created an annual summer STEM camp to introduce young students to the limitless possibilities within science, technology, engineering, and math. I wanted them to see that the world is not just something they exist within—it is something they can shape. If I can show even one young person that they are capable of transforming their surroundings—that their ideas are valid, their contributions necessary—then I know I am making a difference. And I hope that, just as I was inspired by those who came before me, I will inspire the next generation to continue increasing the odds in this field. Because engineering is not just about building bridges and structures; it is about building pathways for those who follow.

I want to learn because I need to learn. I have been blessed with clarity—I know what I want to do: redefine the value of architecture and transform it into a modern, environmentally conscious symbol of beauty and societal progress. Yet, what I don’t know is how to turn this vision, still somewhat abstract, into a clear and tangible reality. My academic goals are entirely shaped by this pursuit. In high school, my course selection has been limited—restricted by academic requirements and what my counselor and I deemed most appealing to colleges and universities. However, in college, I will have the freedom to choose courses that align with my ambitions and my intended major: Civil Engineering. Over the next four to five years, I hope to build a strong foundation in civil engineering, architectural design, and development—one that will equip me with the knowledge necessary to begin my career in real estate investment. After earning my bachelor's, I plan to attend law school, specializing in real estate law, to gain a deeper understanding of the legal frameworks governing the industry. From that point forward, I intend to devote myself entirely to real estate development. My father once told me that our purpose in life is to leave the world better than we found it. Before I even knew what I wanted to do, I knew I wanted to fulfill that purpose completely. I refuse to be someone who climbs to the top at the expense of others, only to look back and realize the harm done along the way. Although my academic and professional journey will officially begin in college, I have already made meaningful efforts to give back to my community. As a freshman in high school, I became painfully aware of the underrepresentation of minorities in STEM—something I had witnessed firsthand through my parents' experiences in the field. I didn’t know how, at just 15 years old, I could make an impact on such a vast issue. But then, I was reminded of the old saying: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. I decided that my first bite would be my own community. That year, I started an annual summer STEM camp at my family’s training facility—two weeks of engaging projects, lessons, and activities designed to help kids from all backgrounds discover the opportunities available to them. I know my efforts are small in scale, but when I see the individual impact—when I witness a child’s eyes light up with the realization of their own potential—I am reminded that even changing one life means leaving the world better than before.

I want to learn because I need to learn. I've been blessed with knowing what I want to do: redefine the value of architecture, and transform it into modern, environmentally conscious symbols of beauty and societal progress. However, what I don't know yet is how to make my rather obscure ambitions into a clear and tangible reality. My academic goals are entirely defined by this understanding. In high school, my course selection has been limited—restricted by the academic requirements and what my and counselor and I viewed as most appealing to colleges and universities. However, in college, I will have the freedom to choose courses that align with my own ambitions and desired major: Civil Engineering. Within the next four to five years of undergraduate school, I hope to build a strong foundation in civil engineering, architectural design, and development—one that will equip me with the knowledge necessary to begin my career in real estate investment. After earning my bachelor's, I plan to attend law school, specializing in real estate law, to gain a deeper understanding of the legal frameworks governing the industry. From that point forward, I intend to devote myself entirely to real estate development. My father once told me that our purpose in life is to leave the world better than we found it. Before I even knew what I wanted to do, I knew I wanted to fulfill that purpose completely. I refuse to be someone who climbs to the top at the expense of others, only to look back and realize the harm done along the way. Although my academic and professional journey will officially begin in college, I have already made meaningful efforts to give back to my community. As a freshman in high school, I became painfully aware of the underrepresentation of minorities in STEM—something I had witnessed firsthand through my parents' experiences in the field. I didn’t know how, at just 15 years old, I could make an impact on such a vast issue. But then, I was reminded of the old saying: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. I decided that my first bite would be my own community. That year, I started an annual summer STEM camp at my family’s training facility—two weeks of engaging projects, lessons, and activities designed to help kids from all backgrounds discover the opportunities available to them. I know my efforts are small in scale, but when I see the individual impact—when I witness a child’s eyes light up with the realization of their own potential—I am reminded that even changing one life means leaving the world better than before.

Golf has always been more than a game to me—it is a quiet symphony of patience, precision, and perseverance, played on an open field where the wind whispers lessons only the patient can hear. It is a dance between control and surrender, where a single shot can be a masterpiece or a miscalculation, and where success is often determined not by power, but by the quiet discipline of restraint. One of the greatest lessons golf has taught me is the art of recovery. No matter how carefully I calculate my swing, the ball does not always land where I intend. A shot veers off course, a putt lips out, a bunker swallows my momentum whole. In those moments, frustration tempts me to dwell on the past—to relive the mistake, to let it define me. But golf teaches otherwise. Every errant shot is not a failure but an opportunity—an invitation to adapt, to strategize, and to rebuild with renewed intention. The game is not won by those who never falter, but by those who have the courage to recalibrate and press forward. Life, like golf, is unpredictable. The course is vast, shaped by forces beyond my control, and there will be moments when I find myself in the rough, faced with obstacles I never anticipated. But golf has taught me to embrace these challenges—not as roadblocks, but as part of the journey. In my future career, whether in civil engineering or beyond, I will approach the world’s difficulties with this same mindset. Whether it's designing sustainable infrastructure, revitalizing neglected communities, or innovating with new materials, I will use what golf has instilled in me: the ability to take an imperfect shot and turn it into something remarkable. Beyond personal resilience, golf has taught me the importance of integrity. It is a game of self-governance, where no referee watches over your shoulder, and honesty is not just expected but essential. In a world where cutting corners is often the easier path, I will carry this lesson with me—knowing that true success is not measured by quick victories, but by the quiet dignity of doing what is right, even when no one is watching. Ultimately, golf has shown me that the measure of a person is not in how flawlessly they play, but in how they respond when the game tests them. With every challenge I face, I will remember the fairways and the hazards, the putts that seemed impossible, and the quiet resolve to try again. And with that, I will not just navigate life—I will shape it.

I have always believed that success is not just about personal achievement—it is about lifting others as you climb. My journey has been shaped by the mentors and role models who paved the way for me, and in turn, I am committed to doing the same for those who come after me. Whether through mentorship, outreach, or simply leading by example, I strive to create opportunities for young people—especially those who may not always see themselves represented in the spaces they aspire to be. Growing up, I was fortunate to have people who encouraged me to explore my passions, but I know that not everyone has that support. Many young people, particularly those from underrepresented backgrounds, hesitate to pursue their ambitions because they rarely see people who look like them achieving success in certain fields. This lack of representation creates invisible barriers, making it difficult for them to imagine themselves in those roles. I want to change that. One of the most impactful ways I give back is by working with younger students, encouraging them to pursue their passions with confidence. I know firsthand how discouraging it can be to feel like you don’t belong. In school, I was often one of the few students of color in my advanced classes, and at times, I was discouraged from taking on certain opportunities because others did not see me fitting the mold. My counselor, teacher, and even some of my peers questioned my decision to take advanced engineering courses, warning me that I “probably wouldn’t feel comfortable” or that it “didn’t fit my vibe.” While these words were meant as caution, they reflected a deeper issue—the assumption that certain spaces are reserved for certain people. Instead of letting that narrative define me, I used it as motivation to prove that I belonged—and more importantly, to ensure that future students wouldn’t have to fight the same battles alone. Through tutoring, mentorship, and outreach programs, I work to show young students that their dreams are valid and attainable. I want them to know that their background does not define their potential and that they have every right to chase their ambitions fearlessly. Representation matters, not just in words but in action, and I hope that by being present and engaged, I can be the example that someone else needs to see. Giving back is more than a responsibility to me; it is a calling. No matter where my future takes me, I will continue to uplift my community, ensuring that the next generation does not just dream, but believes in their ability to achieve. By fostering a culture of mentorship and encouragement, I hope to create a ripple effect—one that inspires young people to see beyond limitations and strive for greatness. Because when one person breaks a barrier, they open the door for countless others to walk through.

I was fortunate to grow up with two parents in STEM. Their careers were not the reason I chose this path, but they were the reason I knew I could. Too often, people underestimate the power of an example. Seeing is believing, and when young minds witness people who look like them innovating and breaking barriers, they don’t just feel inspired—they realize they, too, belong. This is why representation in STEM is more than a matter of fairness; it is a necessity. The youth of tomorrow should not just say they can be anything—they should believe it with unwavering certainty. Despite the growing national emphasis on introducing children to STEM at an early age, disparities persist. The question is not whether STEM opportunities exist, but rather, who has access to them? I am privileged to attend a school with an advanced engineering program—a rigorous three-year course that allows students of all skill levels to build their understanding of STEM. Yet, despite the size of these classes, I have consistently found myself one of the few students of color—and the only Black girl. This is not due to a lack of interest among students of color, but rather a deeply ingrained belief that STEM is meant for “certain people.” I realized this unsettling truth when my own peers, my counselor, and even my teacher attempted to dissuade me from enrolling in engineering. I was just as qualified as any of my white or male classmates, yet I was warned that I “probably wouldn’t feel comfortable” or that the class “didn’t fit my vibe.” Though I brushed off these comments, their words carried an unspoken truth: spaces that lack representation are not always welcoming. Walking into a classroom where I am the only Black student—one of just three girls—is a quiet but constant reminder that I am an exception, not the expectation. Being in a challenging class, whilst constantly feeling tested for whether or not you belong is work in itself, work no one should have to go through. We can't hope to change the minds of every ignorant individual that likes to put people of color in box; however, we can take the risk in ourselves to walk into those rooms we feel the most unwelcome—not in spite, but despite the close minded. These pushes towards a more diverse representation in STEM careers are vital, because It is the alchemy that transforms walls into doors, and obstacles into invitations. The next Da Vinci could come from a Native American tribe, often neglected by society. The next Einstein might be growing up in Inglewood or Compton. But if these brilliant minds are stifled—not because they lack passion or talent, but because they don’t see anyone like them in the spaces they dream of occupying—then the loss is not just theirs, but society’s. Not everyone will become scientists, mathematicians, engineers, coders, or designers. But everyone—of every race, gender, and background—should feel that they can. The future of innovation depends on the minds we nurture today, and it is time we ensure that no child’s dreams are limited by the boundaries of representation.

I was drawn to architecture at a young age. I was always intrigued by the tallest buildings, the most peculiar designs, and the way those different structures impacted the people who interacted with them. However, overtime it wasn't just the beauty of buildings that fascinated me—it was their power to transform lives. Growing up, my parents made sure I was aware of the world’s injustices, racial inequality, the climate crisis, and many more of the world's problems. They shared stories of their struggles in underserved communities, the systemic barriers they faced, and how those experiences shaped their understanding of the world. They didn’t just explain their hardships to me, though—they taught me empathy, and the idea that one person's problem is everyone's. As my passion for STEM progressed through engineering classes, clubs, and programs, I discovered how science, technology, engineering, and math could be the key to solving not only the world's environmental, but societal issues as well. From this perspective architecture transformed beyond a mere profession— it became a means of creating a more environmentally sustainable and equitable society. The more I learned, the more I saw how buildings, communities, and even cities could be reimagined to not only reduce environmental impact but also improve the lives of those who have historically been left behind. This understanding solidified my desire to pursue a career where I could combine sustainable design with social justice. I want to design buildings that aren’t just functional but that serve the people who need them most. I want to ensure that communities like the one my parents came from have access to safe, affordable, and sustainable spaces that promote health and well-being. Growing up with parents who experienced the struggles of inequality has been one of the biggest influences on my drive. They’ve shown me that it’s not enough to simply be aware of the world’s problems—you have to be part of the solution. Their resilience in the face of adversity has fueled my own determination to create spaces that bridge the gap between environmental sustainability and social justice. This path won’t be easy. As a black woman pursuing the field of STEM I'm aware of the many obstacles along the path towards my goals. I've already dealt with the doubts of my peers and continuous underrepresentation in all of the STEM programs I engage with at my school. I've had to overcome the discomfort of being the only black girl in the room when working in my school's engineering workshop, and the frustration of hearing someone say I "don't fit" in a class where I am just as qualified as any of the other boys participating. Although I have faced these obstacles, I refuse to accept them. I refuse to accept the stigma that fields of STEM are only for people of a certain gender of complexion, and I refuse to accept that there isn't a solution to even the most difficult of problems. I’m excited to be part of the next generation of civil engineers who will uncover possibility in the face of uncertainty.

Growing up, I watched my dad turn ideas into reality with creativity, critical thinking, and persistence. As a single parent, he built a marketing business from the ground up, leveraging his engineering background to approach challenges in unique ways. I witnessed how he used his skills to solve problems, design innovative solutions, and think outside the box. His journey as an entrepreneur has profoundly influenced my educational and career goals, especially my desire to become a civil engineer. My dad’s entrepreneurial journey showed me that engineering isn’t just about technical skills—it’s about problem-solving, creativity, and applying those skills in real-world scenarios. Watching him navigate his business, I learned that the principles of engineering extend far beyond construction sites or technical projects. My father’s ability to use his engineering mindset in marketing demonstrated how critical thinking and innovation can be applied to any field. Whether he was designing a new marketing strategy or overcoming business challenges, he approached each obstacle with a problem-solving mentality, and that’s exactly how I want to approach civil engineering. Since I was young, I’ve been fascinated by how the world around us is designed and built. My dad’s journey showed me that engineering isn’t just about the science behind it; it’s about creating something meaningful that benefits others. I want to use my passion for problem-solving and my love for design to make a real difference in the world. Civil engineering provides the perfect outlet for this. It combines my interest in critical thinking with my desire to create structures that are both functional and sustainable. I want to take ideas and turn them into tangible, lasting solutions, just as my dad did with his business. The perseverance my dad demonstrated has also been a huge influence. Building a business isn’t easy, and there were times when things didn’t go according to plan. However, my dad’s ability to adapt and keep going in the face of adversity is something that stuck with me. It taught me that setbacks are not failures—they’re part of the journey. This mindset has carried over into my academic life. Whenever I face challenges in my studies, I remind myself of how my dad handled his difficulties and use that same resilience to keep pushing forward. My dad also taught me the importance of combining creativity with logic. Engineering, especially civil engineering, requires not just technical knowledge but the ability to think creatively about how structures can fit into the world. My dad used his creativity to innovate in business, and I want to do the same in my engineering career. I believe that the most effective engineers are those who approach problems from new perspectives and find innovative ways to create efficient, sustainable solutions. This approach is something my dad taught me by example—he was always thinking critically about how to improve and adapt. I want to bring that mindset to my work as a civil engineer. In essence, my father’s entrepreneurial journey has shaped my vision for my future. His creativity, critical thinking, and determination have inspired me to pursue a career in civil engineering. His ability to face challenges head-on and transform ideas into reality is something I deeply admire, and it motivates me to apply those same principles in my own career. As I continue my education and work toward becoming a civil engineer, I’m following in my father’s footsteps—not just as someone who builds structures, but as someone who takes risks, finds solutions, and turns ideas into lasting realities.

Empowerment is more than just confidence or motivation—it’s the belief that I can achieve my goals because I have both the drive within myself and the encouragement from the people who matter most. As a sister with incredibly supportive brothers, I’ve been lucky to experience empowerment in its most genuine form. My brothers are my biggest cheerleaders. Whether they’re showing up to my races, helping me shake off a tough loss, or celebrating my wins, they’ve always reminded me of my strength, even when I’ve doubted it myself. Their belief in me isn’t just about words; it’s about showing up and being present. They’ve taught me that empowerment doesn’t happen in isolation. It’s a shared experience that grows when people lift each other up. Knowing that I have their support gives me the confidence to take on challenges that might have once seemed impossible. In my athletic life, empowerment shows up every day. As a varsity track athlete, I’m constantly pushing myself to improve, knowing that every second shaved off my time is the result of hard work and resilience. Track has taught me that empowerment isn’t about always winning; it’s about showing up for yourself—even after you stumble. It’s about lacing up your spikes and stepping back onto the track, ready to try again. Karate deepened my understanding of empowerment in a unique way. At an elite level, this sport is about precision, control, and mental strength. Every practice reminds me that empowerment isn’t about perfection, but progress. There’s a philosophy in martial arts called kaizen, which means continuous improvement. It’s the idea that no matter how skilled you are, there’s always room to grow. That mindset has shaped not just how I approach karate, but how I approach life. Empowerment, to me, is about embracing imperfection and understanding that every step forward, no matter how small, is meaningful. On a deeper level, empowerment is tied to choice and purpose. I see empowerment as the ability to take control of my life while staying true to my values. It reminds me of Aristotle’s idea of eudaimonia, or flourishing. Empowerment isn’t just about reaching goals—it’s about living in a way that feels meaningful. It’s the fulfillment that comes from knowing you’re working toward something bigger than yourself. That’s why I try to pass empowerment on to others. Whether it’s mentoring younger athletes, being a role model for my teammates, or encouraging my siblings, I believe that empowerment grows the more you share it. Empowerment has transformed how I view challenges. Instead of seeing obstacles as barriers, I see them as opportunities to grow. When I stumble, I remind myself that mistakes are just lessons in disguise. And when things get tough, I lean on the people who remind me of my strength—my family, my teammates, and even the version of myself who never gives up. For me, empowerment is both personal and communal. It’s the drive to work harder, be kinder, and face life with courage and grace. It’s the belief that I’m capable of great things—and the deep gratitude I feel for those who stand by my side. Empowerment has taught me that we’re strongest when we lift each other up, and that true success isn’t just about what we achieve—it’s about how we bring others along with us. At the end of the day, empowerment is what pushes me forward, helps me grow, and reminds me that no matter what comes my way, I have what it takes to face it. It’s a journey, not a destination—and one I’m excited to keep walking, with purpose and with pride.