Selflessness, to me, is not just an action—it is a way of life that has shaped who I am both during and after my military service. As a United States Marine Corps veteran, I learned early on that service means putting others before yourself, often in high-pressure environments where teamwork, trust, and sacrifice are essential. However, it was in my life after the military that I truly began to understand the deeper meaning of selflessness—through healing, giving back, and helping others find their own path forward. Following my service, I sought purpose beyond the uniform and found it through volunteering with BraveHearts Therapeutic Riding. There, I worked with fellow veterans and youth with disabilities, teaching them how to ride horses and supporting them through equine-assisted activities. What began as an opportunity to serve others quickly became a transformative experience in my own life. In helping others build confidence, trust, and connection, I was also healing parts of myself that I didn’t fully understand before. Equine therapy provided something that traditional clinical environments often cannot—a sense of freedom, connection, and presence. I witnessed veterans who struggled with trauma begin to open up, and children with disabilities gain independence and joy through their interactions with horses. Being part of those moments reinforced my belief that healing does not have to happen within four walls. Some of the most profound breakthroughs happen outdoors, in community, through shared experiences that rebuild purpose and belonging. This work became a cornerstone of my academic journey. While completing my Master’s degree in Human Services, my volunteer experience at BraveHearts directly informed my studies and strengthened my commitment to serving others. It allowed me to connect theory to real-world impact and ultimately fueled my decision to continue my education. Today, I am in the final stage of my Doctorate in Human Services, focusing on improving trauma recovery programming for veterans—particularly those resistant to traditional treatment methods. Pursuing advanced education in human services is, for me, an extension of selflessness. It represents my commitment to continue serving beyond the military by developing innovative, evidence-based solutions that expand access to alternative therapies such as equine-assisted services, recreational therapy, and outdoor-based healing approaches. I believe that recovery is not one-size-fits-all, and many individuals need options that reconnect them to life in meaningful, engaging ways. Receiving this scholarship would directly support the completion of this critical phase of my doctoral program. As my GI Bill benefits have been fully utilized, additional funding is essential for me to finish my degree and continue this work. More importantly, it would allow me to carry forward a mission rooted in service—helping others heal, rebuild, and rediscover purpose. Selflessness is not something I turn on or off; it is embedded in my choices, my career path, and my commitment to others. Whether in uniform or in the field of human services, I strive to make a lasting impact by helping people move forward—not just surviving, but truly living again.

I think most people grow up feeling “awkward” for something. For me, it wasn’t just one thing—it was my entire lifestyle. While other girls were wearing Abercrombie and American Eagle, going to the mall, and fitting into what was considered “normal,” I was on a horse farm. You could usually find me in muddy boots and jeans, with frizzy hair, glasses, and braces, riding my horse or taking care of animals. I didn’t have the trendy clothes or the same social life, and I stood out in a way that made me an easy target. I was made fun of for not being like the other girls—for being too different, too “country,” too disconnected from what was popular. At the time, it felt isolating. Like I was missing something everyone else understood. But what I didn’t realize then is that the very thing that made me feel awkward was quietly shaping my purpose. Spending time with animals, especially horses, taught me things I couldn’t have learned anywhere else—patience, emotional awareness, resilience, and connection without words. Horses don’t care what you’re wearing or whether you fit in. They respond to authenticity. They sense energy, emotion, and intention in a way that forces you to be present and honest. Without realizing it, I was developing a deep understanding of nonverbal communication and emotional regulation—skills that would later become the foundation of my life’s work. Today, I am in the final stages of my Doctorate in Human Services, where my research focuses on equine-assisted therapy as a trauma-informed intervention for military veterans with PTSD. I served in the military myself, and after experiencing trauma, I understand firsthand how difficult recovery can be. Traditional approaches don’t always reach the deeper layers of pain, but alternative therapies—like equine-assisted therapy—offer something different. They create space for trust, healing, and connection in ways that words sometimes cannot. After leaving the military, I began volunteering with equine-assisted therapy programs, including working with children with disabilities and veterans at BraveHearts Therapeutic Riding and Educational Center. I saw firsthand the transformation that happens when someone who is struggling connects with a horse. Walls come down. Confidence builds. Healing begins. It’s not lost on me that the same thing I was once teased for—being the “horse girl,” the one who didn’t fit in—is now the very thing I specialize in. What once made me feel awkward has become my greatest strength. That experience shaped not only my career path but also how I see others. I’ve learned that what makes someone feel different or out of place is often where their power lies. The qualities that don’t fit into a mold are the ones that have the potential to create real impact. My “awkward” wasn’t a weakness—it was a foundation. It gave me purpose, direction, and a passion for helping others heal. And now, I’m turning it into a lifelong mission: to use what once set me apart to help others find their way back to themselves.

Purpose found me through both loss and rebuilding. When my younger brother Seth died by suicide at just fourteen, it changed the course of my life. At the time, I didn’t have the tools to understand or process that kind of loss. Years later, after serving in the Marine Corps, I faced my own struggles with trauma, PTSD, and addiction. I tried to escape the pain through drugs and alcohol, anything to numb what I hadn’t healed. That path led me to rock bottom—rehab, jail, and a complete loss of direction. But it also led me to purpose. I made the decision to rebuild my life fully, and today I have been sober for over nine years. That transformation required more than just quitting substances—it required discipline, faith, accountability, and a complete shift in mindset. I had to learn how to face my experiences instead of running from them, and in doing so, I discovered something deeper: a calling to serve others who are walking through similar struggles. That calling is what draws me to the nonprofit sector. Nonprofit work, to me, is not just about helping—it is about creating systems that truly support people in meaningful, lasting ways. It is about closing the gap between struggle and access to care. Too many individuals, especially veterans and trauma survivors, fall through the cracks of traditional systems. I know that because I have lived it. Currently, I am pursuing my Doctorate in Human Services with a focus on mental health, addiction recovery, and program development. My goal is not only to work in the nonprofit sector, but to lead within it—developing innovative, evidence-based programs that address real needs. I am particularly passionate about integrating recreational and outdoor therapy into mental health and recovery services. Healing does not always happen in a traditional setting. For many, it begins through movement, connection, and shared experience, whether that is fitness, nature-based programming, or equine-assisted therapy. These approaches rebuild confidence, trust, and purpose in ways that are often missing from standard care models. My vision is to build programs and organizations that serve veterans and trauma survivors by combining clinical support with experiential healing, creating environments where individuals feel understood, supported, and empowered to move forward. This work is deeply personal. Seth never got the chance to grow into the person he was becoming or pursue the purpose he was already beginning to show. But through the work I am building, his legacy continues. Every program I create, every life impacted, is a reflection of both what I’ve lost and what I’ve fought to rebuild. I don’t just want to be part of the nonprofit sector—I want to help shape its future. Because I understand what it feels like to be on both sides of the system, struggling without support, and then finding a way through it. I turned my pain into purpose and I intend to use it to change lives at scale.

Rock bottom isn’t a metaphor to me—it’s a place I’ve been. But it’s not where my story ends. After my time in the Marine Corps, everything started to catch up with me. I was dealing with trauma, including sexual assault and PTSD, while still carrying the deep loss of my younger brother Seth, who died by suicide at just fourteen. It was more than I knew how to handle. I didn’t have the tools to process it, so I tried to numb it—turning to drugs and alcohol, anything to take the pain away and escape reality. What followed were consequences I never imagined: rehab, jail, and a complete loss of direction. But those moments became the interruption I needed. They forced me to face myself honestly and decide who I was going to be moving forward. That decision changed everything. I committed fully to recovery, and today I have been sober from drugs for over nine years. Sobriety didn’t just remove substances—it required me to rebuild my mindset, my habits, and my identity. I had to learn how to live differently. Faith became a foundation for me. I began focusing on heart healing, learning how to forgive—others, and myself. I developed tools that I still use every day: positive self-talk instead of self-destruction, playing the tape forward to understand the real consequences of my choices, and the simple but powerful practice of pause, pray, and proceed. Those habits gave me clarity. They gave me discipline. And they gave me direction. I didn’t just want to stay sober—I wanted to grow into someone who could lead and create impact. That path led me to pursue my Doctorate in Human Services, where I focus on mental health, addiction recovery, and program development. My goal is to build programs that meet people where they are—especially those navigating trauma, addiction, and life after service. I know from experience that healing doesn’t look the same for everyone. That’s why I’m passionate about integrating approaches like recreational and outdoor therapy—fitness, nature, equine-assisted work, and peer connection. These experiences rebuild confidence, trust, and purpose in a way that traditional methods alone sometimes cannot. Losing my brother and nearly losing myself could have defined me in a different way. But I chose something else. I chose faith over fear. I chose growth over avoidance. And I chose purpose over pain. Moving forward, I am committed to creating real change—programs that help people not only recover, but rebuild their lives with strength, structure, and meaning. I want to be part of changing the narrative around addiction and mental health—from something people hide, to something people rise through. I didn’t just survive rock bottom—I built my purpose from it.

The moment I found my brother Seth’s notebooks, everything changed. He was only fourteen when he died by suicide, but what he left behind told a different story than the one his ending suggests. Page after page, he had written out detailed military missions, battle strategies, and plans. It wasn’t just imagination—it was purpose. Even at fourteen, Seth had a vision for his life. He wanted to serve, to lead, and to be part of something bigger than himself. That is the life he never got to live. If Seth were still here, I know we would build something together rooted in that same sense of purpose. We would start a business dedicated to helping veterans—especially those struggling with suicide and mental health. It wouldn’t be a traditional program. It would be something active, immersive, and real—built around connection, movement, and meaning. As a Marine Corps veteran, I’ve lived both sides of this reality. I understand the discipline, identity, and pride that comes with service—but I’ve also seen the silence that follows for so many. Veterans are trained to be strong, but not always supported in being vulnerable. Too many carry that weight alone. Too many don’t make it. Losing Seth shaped the way I see that reality. It made this mission personal. I am now pursuing my Doctorate in Human Services, focused on developing programs that address real gaps in mental health support. If Seth were here, our business would combine his passion for the military with my experience and education. We would create a veteran-centered organization that integrates mental health support with recreational and outdoor therapy—things like structured fitness, hiking, equine-assisted therapy, and team-based challenges that rebuild trust, confidence, and purpose. Because healing doesn’t always happen sitting in a room. For many veterans, it happens through movement, through nature, and through shared experience. This would be more than a business. It would be leadership through service. It would be a place where veterans reconnect—not only with others, but with themselves. A place where strength is redefined, and asking for help is part of the mission, not a weakness. Seth never got the chance to wear the uniform he dreamed about. But through this work, his purpose doesn’t disappear—it evolves. It lives on in every veteran who finds support, in every life that continues because someone chose to stay. I can’t change what happened to my brother. But I can build something meaningful from it. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

I didn’t begin my journey in a classroom—I began it in the United States Marine Corps, where resilience was expected, but healing was often left unspoken. Like many service members, I experienced the invisible weight that comes with military life. Trauma doesn’t always show up in ways people understand, and for many—especially survivors of military sexual trauma (MST)—the hardest battles begin after service ends. What stayed with me wasn’t just the experience itself, but the lack of effective, accessible support for those trying to heal. That realization became my purpose. Today, as a doctoral candidate in Human Services, my work is focused on closing that gap—specifically for veterans facing PTSD and treatment resistance. I am researching and developing trauma-informed, alternative interventions such as equine-assisted therapy, which offers something traditional models often cannot: safety without words, connection without pressure, and healing without retraumatization. My goal is to design programs that meet veterans where they are, not where the system expects them to be. My path has not been linear, and it has not been easy. As someone navigating my own healing from PTSD, online education has not just been helpful—it has been the reason I’ve been able to continue at all. The flexibility to learn remotely has allowed me to prioritize my mental health while still pursuing a rigorous doctoral program. Without online learning and the ability to complete my work from environments that feel safe and manageable, I can confidently say I would not have made it this far in my education. That matters—because this work matters. Through virtual classrooms, digital research libraries, and advanced tools like AI-assisted literature review platforms, I’ve been able to fully engage in my studies while building real-world applications. I don’t just absorb information—I use it to evaluate and improve human service programs, particularly those serving veterans who have been overlooked or underserved. Online learning has strengthened my adaptability, discipline, and problem-solving skills—qualities I developed in the military and continue to refine through my doctoral journey. It has allowed me to turn lived experience into informed action. I am not pursuing this degree out of convenience. I am pursuing it out of conviction. This scholarship would support more than my education—it would support the development of innovative, trauma-informed solutions for veterans who deserve better options for healing. I am not just earning a doctorate. I am building what I wish existed. Semper Fidelis - Always Faithful.

My life’s mission in human services was born in a hospital room long before I ever imagined serving in the United States Marine Corps or pursuing a PhD. As a child, I watched my baby brother fight for his life after being diagnosed with a rare and aggressive white blood cell cancer called Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis when he was only a few months old. Because the disease was so rare and he was so young, doctors gave my parents devastating news: his chances of survival were extremely small. They warned that if the chemotherapy did not take his life, the cancer likely would. Even though I was young, those memories are seared into my mind. I remember the long nights spent in hospital rooms at the children’s hospital, constant medical appointments, and the fear that surrounded our family as my parents tried to remain strong while facing the possibility of losing their child and the financial strain that comes with extensive medical care. Watching my baby brother fight for his life while my family held on to hope shaped my understanding of resilience at a very young age. Against overwhelming odds, Seth survived. My family has always believed that faith, hope, and determination helped carry him through that battle. My mother often tells the story of taking him to churches and praying relentlessly for his healing. Tragically, our family would later face another devastating loss when Seth died by suicide at only fourteen years old. Losing him was heartbreaking and left me reflecting on how trauma, medical struggles, and emotional stress can shape a person’s life. His loss strengthened my desire to understand how health crises affect individuals and families long after the physical illness has ended. Cancer has continued to touch my life in other ways as well. A loved one was diagnosed with leukemia and is currently facing the difficult process of a bone marrow transplant. This has reinforced that cancer impacts far more than the patient—it affects entire families, often creating emotional, financial, and psychological stress that can last for years. I have also witnessed powerful examples of resilience. A woman I consider my adopted grandmother, fought cancer with incredible strength and optimism and is now cancer-free. She often spoke about the importance of maintaining a positive mindset and speaking life over difficult circumstances. Her perspective reinforced something I have seen throughout my life: hope and strong support systems play a critical role in healing. These experiences helped shape my path of service in the United States Marine Corps. My time in the military strengthened my commitment to serving others and addressing the complex challenges individuals and families face when navigating trauma, adversity, and recovery. Today, as a Doctor of Human Services candidate completing the final stage of my PhD, my work focuses on translating research into programs that improve access to healing and recovery services for vulnerable communities. I am passionate about complementary and recreational therapeutic approaches that support healing in holistic ways. These include addressing the physical, emotional, and spiritual. Cancer changed my family’s story, but it also shaped my mission. As a medically retired Marine Corps veteran, doctoral researcher, and future leader in human services, I am committed to transforming adversity into action and compassion into programs that help others heal. My goal is to lead the development of innovative wellness and recovery programs that integrate holistic and trauma-informed therapies to support cancer survivors and their families. Through my work, I hope to turn the hardships my family experienced into meaningful change—helping individuals and families facing cancer build resilience, find healing, and rediscover hope.

The first time I understood how deeply loss, despair, and trauma can shape a family, I was still a child. When grief overwhelms individuals, unhealthy coping behaviors—such as addiction—can take hold, leaving lasting wounds. I did not yet have the language to understand this reality, but I felt it deeply when my grandfather, who struggled with addiction, died by suicide. What remained was confusion, grief, and the sense that something fragile in my world had broken. Years later, that fracture deepened beyond anything I could have imagined. My younger brother, Seth, was only fourteen years old when he also died by suicide. Losing Seth shattered my family and fundamentally changed who I was. I carried immense grief, guilt, and anxiety, constantly questioning what I could have done differently. Trauma became an undercurrent in my life, shaping my thoughts, relationships, and sense of safety. These losses profoundly altered the course of my life. Despite the hardship my family had already endured, I found myself slipping down a dark path of my own. Consumed by unresolved grief and anxiety, I felt overwhelmed and unable to see a way forward. Drugs and alcohol became a means of escape—not out of a desire to cause harm, but because I lacked the tools to cope with the pain I carried. My nervous system lived in a constant state of fear and hypervigilance, and I lost sight of who I was meant to become. Throughout this period, one person never gave up on me: my mother, Theresa. Despite losing both her father and her son to suicide, she continued to show up with unwavering strength, compassion, and faith. She prayed for me, advocated for me, and connected me with resources that ultimately saved my life, including the VA, church, and physical wellness. Today, she dedicates her life to supporting youth, families, veterans, and individuals facing addiction and mental health crises. Through her work with Light Riders, a specialized ride-share service, she provides safe transportation during crisis moments while offering prayer, resources, and compassionate one-on-one support. Together, we plan to expand these efforts through equine-assisted programs at our family equestrian center, creating a safe and healing environment for individuals impacted by suicide and addiction. Watching her transform loss into lifesaving action, faith, and strength inspired me to push forward. Meditation and journaling became essential tools in my healing. In a sermon by Pastor Rick Warren, he shared a simple but transformative insight: “If you know how to worry, you already know how to meditate.” That perspective shifted my understanding of my own mind. Through meditation, I learned to redirect fixation away from fear and toward grounding, gratitude, and hope, helping regulate my nervous system and reduce chronic stress. Journaling allowed me to process grief, recognize patterns, and make healing intentional. After serving in the military, these experiences led me back to education. I earned a master’s degree in Human Services with a specialization in Addiction Studies and am now in the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services. My research focuses on suicide prevention, addiction recovery, and trauma-informed programs for veterans, families, and trauma survivors. My GI Bill benefits have been exhausted, and I am currently paying out of pocket for the final capstone portion of my degree. This scholarship would directly support my ability to complete this work and help expand evidence-based programs that provide life-saving support to communities in need. Loss changed my life. Healing gave it purpose. Through education, faith, and service, I am committed to turning pain into progress—for my family, for my brother Seth, and for others who deserve hope.

Disability is not always visible, but its impact is constant. As a medically retired United States Marine Corps veteran and doctoral student in Human Services, I live at the intersection of physical injury, mental health challenges, and neurodiverse lived experience. Navigating higher education with a disability has required persistence, self-advocacy, and resilience in systems that were not designed with students like me in mind. While institutions often claim to value inclusion, too many lack the infrastructure, understanding, and flexibility necessary for students with disabilities to truly thrive. Throughout my academic journey, I have experienced firsthand how difficult it can be to access accommodations, mental health support, and trauma-informed resources—especially as a nontraditional student and veteran. Many disability services offices are underfunded, understaffed, or narrowly focused, leaving students to shoulder the burden of navigating complex systems alone. For individuals with physical injuries, PTSD, traumatic brain injuries, or neurodivergent processing styles, this lack of support can make higher education feel isolating or unattainable. These barriers are even more pronounced for veterans with disabilities. Many of us return from service with visible and invisible wounds, yet face stigma, misunderstanding, or bureaucratic obstacles when seeking support in academic and wellness settings. I have witnessed talented, capable veterans abandon their educational goals not because of a lack of ability, but because systems failed to meet them with dignity, flexibility, and inclusion. Rather than allowing these challenges to deter me, they shaped my purpose. I am currently in the final year of my doctorate in Human Services, where my work focuses on disability justice, trauma-informed care, and increasing access to holistic health and wellness programs for underserved populations—particularly veterans. My research and program development efforts center on dismantling environmental and systemic barriers that prevent individuals with disabilities from accessing meaningful support. I believe disability inclusion is not charity—it is justice. Through my education, I aim to design and advocate for integrated, accessible wellness and recovery programs that address both physical and mental health disabilities. This includes expanding access to trauma-informed services such as adaptive fitness, mental health care, nutrition education, mindfulness practices, and community-based support models that honor neurodiversity rather than pathologize it. Veterans with disabilities deserve programs that meet them where they are—not systems that expect them to conform to rigid, inaccessible frameworks. Advocacy, to me, means amplifying lived experience and translating it into structural change. It means challenging institutions to move beyond compliance and toward genuine inclusion. It means ensuring that students and veterans with disabilities are not merely accommodated, but empowered. My goal is to use my education to influence policy, program design, and community-based initiatives that prioritize accessibility, dignity, and equity. By centering disability justice in my work, I hope to help create systems where no student or veteran is forced to choose between their health and their education. This scholarship represents more than financial support—it represents a commitment to inclusion and the belief that students with disabilities belong in higher education. I intend to honor that belief by continuing to advocate for those who have served our country and for all individuals navigating disability within systems that must do better.

I learned how to hold my own long before I ever put on a Marine Corps uniform. Growing up with three brothers, I learned early how to stand my ground, speak up, and keep moving forward no matter how hard something felt. So when I joined the United States Marine Corps—stepping into what was very much still a boys’ club at the time—it felt strangely familiar. I didn’t join to prove anything. I joined because service ran through my family, and because I believed in giving something of myself to something bigger. Military service shaped my family in profound ways—some inspiring, and some heartbreaking. My younger brother Seth always dreamed of serving in the military. He was deeply proud of that calling, even before he was old enough to wear the uniform. Another brother, Patrick, did go on to join the Marines. But I could never have imagined that my decision to serve would coincide with the unraveling of my family as I knew it. Seth died by suicide, and after that loss, nothing was ever the same. Patrick moved away and never returned home. Grief has a way of creating silence where there used to be connection, and our family was no exception. Losing my brother was the most devastating experience of my life, but it also became the moment that reshaped my understanding of service. In the Marines, I flew surveillance drones—watching from above, gathering intelligence, protecting others I would never meet. Every mission I flew, I carried Seth with me. I served in his honor, knowing that vigilance saves lives, and that sometimes service means standing watch so others can make it home. Through that work, I learned the true meaning of Semper Fidelis—always faithful. Faithful to one another. Faithful to mission. Faithful even when the cost is personal. After Seth’s death, I made a promise that his life would not be reduced to the way it ended. I chose to turn grief into purpose. That promise led me back to school, where I am now in the final year of my doctorate in Human Services. My focus is suicide prevention, trauma recovery, and building programs that help people—especially veterans—find support before they reach a breaking point. Service, I have learned, doesn’t end when the uniform comes off. It evolves. It asks us to use what we’ve lived through to protect others from walking the same painful path alone. My military family taught me that sacrifice is not just about what we give up—it’s about what we choose to do with what remains. I choose to keep serving. I choose to keep showing up. And I choose to remain faithful—to my brothers, to my calling, and to the belief that even the hardest stories can be used to save lives.

“I am living proof that the opposite of addiction is connection.” From the outside, people often see strength in my story—they see a Marine Corps veteran, a doctoral student, and someone determined to succeed. But my strength was not born from easy victories. It was forged through battles with depression, anxiety, addiction, and devastating loss. These struggles have touched both my life and my family, and they have given me a powerful sense of mission: to turn pain into purpose and to help others know that recovery and hope are possible. My struggles with mental health and substance use began while I was serving in the Marine Corps. Behind the discipline and uniform, I was silently battling depression, anxiety, and trauma. Alcohol became my way of coping, but what started as self-medication turned into a dangerous cycle. After I was medically retired, I lost the structure and identity that once defined me, leaving me vulnerable to deeper struggles with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. At the time, it felt like I was drowning in an alphabet soup of diagnoses. Today, I see them not as limitations but as tools for awareness and areas needing healing. Like many others, I eventually hit rock bottom. I woke up in a jail cell after a blackout, with no memory of how I had gotten there. It was the result of a mental health breakdown, and it shook me to my core. With recovery and the legal and mental health support I sought afterward, I was able to have the charge removed. That experience gave me first-hand understanding of how untreated depression, anxiety, and addiction can derail a life. Too often, people in crisis end up incarcerated, hospitalized, or institutionalized, when what they truly need is compassionate care. For others, like my grandfather and brother, untreated illness ends in suicide. Both outcomes are unacceptable and a call to action. Recovery became my mission. I found healing through hot yoga, kickboxing, acupuncture, meditation, hiking, red light therapy, cryotherapy, journaling, art therapy, and the love of my service dog, Lavender. Equally important was spiritual healing—reconnecting with faith, prayer, and a sense of purpose greater than myself. These practices reminded me that recovery is not just about survival but about living with meaning. Most importantly, I found connection. Through the Milwaukee Department of Veterans Affairs and women’s therapy groups, I shared openly and uncovered why I was using substances to cope. In those safe spaces, I shifted from isolation and shame into belonging and empowerment. Connection, not isolation, became the foundation of my recovery. Education has also been central to my transformation. I earned my Master’s degree and am now finishing my Doctorate in Human Services, completing all coursework with a 4.0 GPA. My capstone focuses on trauma-informed, alternative therapies, especially animal-assisted interventions for trauma, depression, anxiety, and addiction recovery. This year-long study will produce a model that can be used to apply for funding and bring programs to life. Achieving a 4.0 GPA is more than an academic achievement—it is justice for myself and my family after losing my grandfather and brother to suicide. Their deaths strengthened my resolve to fight for better systems so others are not lost. My doctoral work equips me to impact policy change, funding allocation, and program design. I have gained the skills to evaluate programs, identify unmet needs, and write successful grant proposals backed by research and data. This ensures that the programs I envision are sustainable, evidence-based, and effective. After graduation, my goal is to start my own business centered on alternative health and wellness practices that promote mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual healing. I want to create safe, holistic spaces where individuals can connect, recover, and find dignity. This scholarship would be life-changing. My military education benefits are running out this semester, leaving me with the challenge of funding my final year of doctoral work. This award would allow me to finish my capstone project and carry my research from theory into practice—to develop programs that honor Ella’s spirit and directly support women impacted by trauma, depression, anxiety, and addiction. Ella’s story resonates with me because, like her, I have fought fiercely against these challenges and know the pain of losing loved ones too soon. Her legacy inspires me to keep moving forward, not just for myself but for those who need to see that surviving is possible, and thriving is within reach. With this scholarship, I will complete my education and honor Ella’s fighting spirit by dedicating my life to creating recovery pathways that help others overcome the struggles that once nearly consumed me. Every step I take proves that recovery is not only possible but powerful.

I will never forget the phone call that changed everything—the moment I learned my younger brother Seth, only fourteen years old, had taken his life. Years earlier, I had already lost my grandfather to suicide while he was intoxicated. Two losses in the same way left me with a grief so heavy it felt impossible to carry. For a long time, I felt swallowed by heartbreak, unsure if I would ever find a way forward. Yet today, I am completing the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services, turning that pain into purpose and hope for others. Suicide loss carries a weight unlike any other. It is not just sadness but also guilt, shame, and endless “what ifs.” I remember lying awake at night replaying moments, wondering what I could have done differently. I felt isolated and broken, drowning in emotions that seemed too heavy to bear. That was the rock bottom I thought I would never rise from. Yet even in the darkness, I realized I had a choice: I could allow these tragedies to define me, or I could transform them into motivation to honor my grandfather and Seth. Slowly, I chose purpose. I began to channel my grief into education and advocacy, determined to help others find the support and hope my loved ones never fully received. Education became my lifeline. Step by step, I pursued degrees in human services, immersing myself in trauma, addiction, and mental health. Each stage of my education was both a step in my healing and a commitment to creating change for others who suffer in silence. The more I learned, the more determined I became to ensure that no family would have to feel as alone and helpless as mine once did. Now, as a doctoral candidate, my capstone focuses on improving access to mental health care, especially for individuals facing trauma, addiction, and stigma. I am passionate about expanding treatment beyond traditional models by exploring alternative therapies, such as equine-assisted therapy and holistic practices, that reach people who may not connect with conventional approaches. I believe mental health services must be accessible, diverse, and compassionate, meeting people where they are so no one feels left behind. Through this journey, I have learned that resilience is not about being unbroken—it is about finding strength within the breaks. Healing is not linear; it is an ongoing process that requires patience, compassion, and courage. Most of all, I have learned that hope can return, even after it feels completely lost. What once seemed like unbearable tragedy has become the foundation of my purpose. My brother and grandfather’s stories live on through my work. By turning my pain into advocacy, education, and service, I honor their memory while helping others choose life, healing, and a future filled with possibility.

My decision to pursue a doctorate in Health and Human Services is rooted in both lived experience and a calling to create meaningful change in the healthcare field. As a U.S. Marine and a woman who has broken barriers in traditionally male-dominated spaces, I have seen firsthand the strength it takes to overcome adversity, as well as the gaps in care that too often leave service members, families, and vulnerable communities without adequate support. These experiences ignited my commitment to improving healthcare—particularly the integration of physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional well-being. Healthcare is not only about treating illness; it is about fostering resilience, restoring dignity, and helping individuals and families reclaim their quality of life. Through my doctoral research, I focus on program design and evaluation to better serve populations impacted by trauma, suicide, PTSD, poverty, and addiction. These are not abstract issues to me—they are realities I have witnessed in the military, among veterans, and within civilian communities. I believe that healing requires more than medication or short-term interventions; it requires holistic, trauma-informed approaches that address the whole person. As a Marine, I know what it means to serve and to sacrifice. Yet, being a woman in the military also meant facing barriers and stereotypes that tested my resilience. I learned to lead with strength and compassion, and I carried those lessons into my academic and professional journey. Pioneering in spaces where women were not always welcomed taught me that representation matters. By pursuing a doctorate and working in the healthcare field, I hope to model what is possible for other women—especially those who dream of creating change in spaces where their voices are needed most. My dream is to develop and expand programs that reduce suicide rates, increase access to mental health care, and provide veterans and trauma survivors with meaningful paths to recovery. This includes not only clinical services but also innovative, community-based approaches such as equine-assisted therapy, wellness programs, and integrative care models that unite physical and mental health. I believe strongly that when we address health as a whole—body, mind, and spirit—we empower individuals to heal more fully and communities to thrive more sustainably. As a woman in healthcare, my impact will be measured not only by the programs I design, but by the lives touched through the compassion, advocacy, and resilience I bring to the work. I want to ensure that families struggling with poverty have access to support, that veterans returning from service are met with dignity, and that survivors of trauma never feel silenced or forgotten. Pursuing this degree is not about personal achievement alone—it is about creating change that extends far beyond myself. With the knowledge and skills I am gaining, I will continue working to dismantle barriers, expand access to care, and foster healing in places where hope can feel out of reach. As both a Marine and a woman, I have committed my life to service, and I am determined to use that commitment to advance healthcare in ways that uplift and transform lives.

Being a first-generation college student has shaped every step of my academic and professional journey. Without a roadmap to follow, I have had to navigate higher education through resilience, persistence, and an unwavering belief that education can change not only my life but also the lives of those I serve. My military service provided me with discipline, leadership, and a deep understanding of sacrifice, but it also exposed me to the very struggles I now aim to address—trauma, suicide, and the ripple effects these challenges create in families and communities. My path has not been without obstacles. From financial struggles to the emotional toll of recovering from my own experiences with trauma and adversity, there were many moments where it felt easier to give up. Yet, I kept going. The greatest reason I was able to persist is the foundation my parents gave me. They instilled in me the value of hard work, humility, and perseverance. Even in difficult times, they modeled the importance of pressing forward with dignity and purpose. Their example continues to inspire me, especially when the challenges of pursuing a doctorate in Human Services feel overwhelming. I am now in the final stages of earning my doctorate, a milestone I never imagined possible when I first began. My research focuses on creating and evaluating programs that address the needs of populations impacted by suicide, PTSD, poverty, and addiction—issues that continue to devastate communities across the country. My dream is to use my education and lived experience to expand trauma-informed services and to ensure that families and survivors are met with compassion, dignity, and effective resources. I believe deeply that no one should have to suffer in silence, and that with the right support, healing and recovery are possible. This scholarship would not only help alleviate the financial burden of completing my degree, but it would also allow me to focus more fully on my research and service work. It would represent an investment not only in my future but in the futures of the countless individuals and families I aspire to help. For me, education has never been about personal achievement alone—it is about creating a path forward for others who may feel unseen or unsupported. As a first-generation student, a veteran, and a doctoral candidate, I carry with me the lessons of resilience, service, and hope. My journey has been challenging, but every obstacle has fueled my determination to give back. With this scholarship, I will continue my journey toward building programs and services that uplift families, strengthen communities, and offer hope to those who need it most.

How Mental Health Has Shaped My Life My experience with mental health has profoundly shaped my goals, relationships, and understanding of the world. After serving in the military, I carried the heavy burden of PTSD, which I initially tried to silence with drugs and alcohol. At the same time, I was grieving the suicides of three family members, including my grandfather whose death was tied to alcoholism. These compounded traumas pushed me to rock bottom, leaving me feeling broken, isolated, and without direction. Yet, my struggle with mental health became the foundation for a journey of recovery that has defined my life’s mission. Mental health challenges have shaped my goals by igniting a passion to serve others walking a similar path. I pursued higher education as a way to transform my pain into purpose. With a Master’s degree in Human Services, a graduate-level certificate in contemporary methods of addiction counseling, and as I complete my Doctorate in Human Services, I have dedicated my academic and professional work to advancing alternative trauma and addiction recovery services. My personal battles with PTSD and addiction give me a unique perspective in developing programs that are compassionate, holistic, and tailored to the complexities of healing. My goal is to ensure that no one feels as alone as I once did. My mental health journey has also transformed my relationships. In my darkest times, I pushed people away and felt undeserving of support. Recovery taught me the importance of vulnerability, connection, and community. Today, I am surrounded by people who understand the value of authenticity and shared healing. By embracing recovery, I found new friendships, mentors, and peers who walk alongside me in both my personal and professional growth. Just as importantly, I’ve learned how to set healthier boundaries and nurture relationships that are built on mutual respect and care. Finally, my struggles with mental health have reshaped how I see the world. I no longer view trauma as a source of shame, but as a catalyst for resilience and empathy. I understand that behind every struggle is a story, and behind every person is a possibility for healing. Mental health challenges have shown me that recovery is not just about survival—it is about creating a life filled with purpose, service, and hope. Ultimately, my journey through trauma and recovery has given me a mission: to use my education, lived experience, and compassion to help others reclaim their lives and find strength within their own healing journeys.

What Recovery Means to Me Recovery, to me, represents resilience, transformation, and purpose. After my military service, I faced the profound weight of PTSD and the loss of three family members to suicide, including my grandfather whose battle with alcoholism ended his life. In my early struggle, I turned to drugs and alcohol to escape the pain, only to find myself at rock bottom. Choosing recovery became the turning point that saved my life and set me on a path of healing and service. Through recovery, I found not only freedom from addiction but also meaning in giving back. My journey has led me to pursue higher education with passion and purpose. I hold a Master’s degree in Human Services and a graduate certificate in contemporary methods in addiction counseling, and I am now in the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services. My research and professional focus center on alternative trauma and addiction recovery services, ensuring that others have access to holistic pathways toward healing. Recovery has opened the door to spiritual growth, new friendships, and a supportive community. Most importantly, it has inspired my vision: to use my education and lived experience to help others overcome trauma, reclaim their lives, and find hope again.

Finding Purpose After Pain: My Mission to Help Veterans Heal from PTSD PTSD has shaped nearly every chapter of my life—both during and after military service. The things I experienced while serving, including trauma and sexual assault, stayed with me long after I left the uniform behind. I also lost my brother, a fellow veteran, to suicide. For a long time, I carried that pain silently, convinced that I had to just “push through.” But PTSD doesn’t just go away—it seeps into your relationships, your work, your sleep, your ability to hope. It nearly took everything from me. What saved me was finding a new purpose—and deciding that I didn’t want to just survive anymore. I wanted to understand my trauma, take back control of my story, and use what I had lived through to help other veterans still fighting their silent battles. With the help of VA education benefits, I went back to school. I started with a Master’s in Human Services and am now in the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services. My focus is on research development, program evaluation, and grant writing—areas that might seem removed from direct care, but are essential to making real change in how we treat PTSD among veterans. I’ve learned that too many PTSD treatment programs are underfunded, outdated, or focused only on symptoms instead of true healing. Through my doctoral work, I’m researching and supporting holistic, trauma-informed programs that integrate mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual recovery. I’m passionate about building systems that reflect the real complexity of what veterans go through—and what they need to heal. One of the most meaningful experiences during my education was working with equine-assisted therapy and recreational therapy. I saw firsthand how movement, nature, and connection can help veterans feel safe again in their own bodies and lives. I now focus on finding ways to fund, improve, and expand these kinds of programs. Veterans deserve options that treat them like people, not just patients. I’m not the same person I was when I left the military. PTSD changed me—but so did healing. I’m stronger, more compassionate, and more determined than ever to make sure no veteran feels forgotten or hopeless. This scholarship means more than financial support; it’s an extension of a mission I believe in with my whole heart. I want to help change the system from the inside, combining lived experience with research and leadership. I hope to honor the legacy of Bryent Smothermon by continuing to fight for every veteran who’s still carrying invisible wounds. We all deserve a path to recovery, and I want to help build it.

Healing Through Purpose: My Advocacy for Mental Health in the Veteran Community Mental health is more than a cause I care about—it’s the foundation of my survival, my education, and my life’s work. As a military veteran who has overcome the challenges of PTSD, suicide loss, and military sexual trauma, mental health is deeply personal to me. Prioritizing my own mental health gave me the strength to return to school, and it now fuels my mission to help others heal. As a doctoral student in Human Services, I’ve centered my academic and professional journey around improving mental health outcomes for military veterans. I specialize in research development, program evaluation, and grant writing—behind-the-scenes tools that allow me to design, fund, and refine trauma recovery programs that address not just mental illness, but full-person healing. I believe mental health is not a standalone issue; it intersects with every aspect of life—emotional stability, physical well-being, and even the ability to reintegrate into civilian society after service. Mental health is important to me as a student because it allows me to show up fully—to think critically, engage compassionately, and pursue rigorous academic goals with purpose and passion. I understand firsthand that without mental health, education becomes an uphill battle. That’s why I am committed to modeling mental wellness in my academic life, prioritizing balance, emotional regulation, and intentional rest—while supporting classmates and peers who may be navigating their own silent struggles. Beyond the classroom, I advocate for mental health in my community through veteran support work and trauma-informed service initiatives. I’ve volunteered in equine therapy and recreational therapy programs that use movement, nature, and animal-assisted interventions to support veterans in healing from PTSD. These programs are not only powerful—they are joyful, reconnecting veterans with their sense of identity, community, and self-worth. Through my doctoral research, I work to evaluate the effectiveness of these programs, securing grant funding and building evidence-based models to ensure that innovative, holistic approaches to mental health care are available to more veterans nationwide. I advocate through data, through storytelling, and through leadership—always pushing for systems that treat veterans with dignity and compassion. Mental health advocacy, to me, means fighting for access, visibility, and healing. It means recognizing that invisible wounds are just as real as visible ones—and that no one should feel alone in their pain. My academic path is rooted in this belief, and my future career is dedicated to it. As I continue my doctoral studies and transition into a professional leadership role in human services, I carry the voice of every veteran who has ever felt unseen. I advocate for them because I was once them. And today, I am not just surviving—I am building a future where healing is possible for everyone.

Choosing Healing: How Prioritizing My Well-Being Shaped My Life’s Purpose There was a time after my military service when survival felt like my only goal. I was struggling with the lingering effects of PTSD, grief, and trauma—carrying the invisible wounds that so many veterans bear. But everything began to shift the moment I made the conscious choice to prioritize my mental, emotional, and physical health. That decision didn’t just change the direction of my life—it gave me a new purpose. My healing journey began by embracing a full-spectrum approach to wellness. Therapy helped me confront and process the psychological trauma. Movement and mindfulness practices reconnected me with my body. Emotional healing came through community, spiritual reflection, and purpose-driven service. Prioritizing my well-being was not easy—but it taught me that recovery is possible, and that true healing requires addressing the whole person. That experience has deeply shaped my academic and professional path. I am now in the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services, where my work centers around developing, evaluating, and improving trauma recovery programs for military veterans. Through research, program design, and grant writing, I focus on building systems that integrate mental, emotional, and physical healing as a comprehensive pathway to post-traumatic growth. Veterans deserve more than symptom management. They deserve programs that support their full humanity and honor their resilience. My work now involves studying what actually helps veterans heal—what interventions work, how to measure outcomes that matter, and how to secure funding to scale those efforts. Making my own healing a priority not only saved my life—it gave me the insight, passion, and tools to help others find their way forward too. Whether I’m in the classroom, conducting research, or writing grants to support innovative care models, I carry the lessons of my own recovery into every space I serve. As I prepare for the future, I am committed to making sure no veteran is left behind in their pain. Prioritizing health—mental, emotional, and physical—is not a luxury. For many, it’s the key to reclaiming life after trauma. I’m honored to help lead that charge through both my personal story and my professional mission. Today, I work at the intersection of research development, program evaluation, and government and grant funding to improve trauma recovery programs for military veterans. My focus is not just on physical or mental health—it’s on designing and supporting holistic healing initiatives that recognize the spiritual, emotional, and cultural dimensions of recovery. I believe that healing is not one-size-fits-all, and I am committed to building systems that are compassionate, comprehensive, and innovative. What sets me apart in this work is that I don’t just understand trauma academically—I have lived it. I know what it feels like to be unseen in the system, to sit in silence with unbearable memories, and to struggle to find services that speak to the soul as much as they serve the body. These experiences give me a unique lens, not just as a professional, but as a survivor—one who is deeply invested in changing the way we approach healthcare for veterans.

From Battle Scars to Blueprints: How the Military Transformed My Purpose and Perspective Serving in the military changed the way I see everything—myself, my country, and what it truly means to serve. It gave me pride, purpose, and discipline. But it also exposed me to deep wounds: PTSD, sexual assault, and the tragic loss of my brother to suicide. These experiences broke me open—but ultimately, they also built the foundation for who I am today. After my military service, I struggled to find my place in the world. I returned home carrying invisible scars, and for a time, I felt completely lost. But with the support of the Department of Veterans Affairs, I began a new journey—not just of healing, but of becoming. I used my G.I. Bill and Veterans Readiness and Employment (VR&E) benefits to return to school, where I earned my master’s in Human Services. Now, I’m in the final year of my Doctorate in Human Services, specializing in program development, research, evaluation, and grant writing—tools I now use to transform how trauma recovery programs serve military veterans. The military taught me how to lead, how to endure, and how to stand up for others—even when standing feels impossible. Those lessons continue to guide me as I work behind the scenes to build better systems for veteran care. Through research and program evaluation, I help design more effective, compassionate, and holistic trauma recovery programs that don’t just treat symptoms, but promote real healing—spiritual, emotional, and physical. I no longer view myself as someone broken by the military—I now see myself as someone rebuilt by it. And I no longer see my country through a lens of idealism or criticism alone—I see its complexity, its flaws, and its capacity to grow. Most importantly, I see the power of lived experience to change systems and save lives. This scholarship would allow me to continue the work I was truly meant to do: helping those who served alongside me recover, rebuild, and find purpose after trauma. I may not wear the uniform anymore, but I am still serving—this time as a healer, advocate, and systems-changer. And I believe that is one of the most powerful ways I can continue to serve my country. Today, I work at the intersection of research development, program evaluation, and government and grant funding to improve trauma recovery programs for military veterans. My focus is not just on physical or mental health—it’s on designing and supporting holistic healing initiatives that recognize the spiritual, emotional, and cultural dimensions of recovery. I believe that healing is not one-size-fits-all, and I am committed to building systems that are compassionate, comprehensive, and innovative. What sets me apart in this work is that I don’t just understand trauma academically—I have lived it. I know what it feels like to be unseen in the system, to sit in silence with unbearable memories, and to struggle to find services that speak to the soul as much as they serve the body. These experiences give me a unique lens, not just as a professional, but as a survivor—one who is deeply invested in changing the way we approach healthcare for veterans.

From Survival to Service: How My Challenges as a Veteran Shaped My Calling in Healthcare My journey into the field of healthcare was born not from ease, but from endurance. As a military veteran, I have faced some of life’s darkest battles—surviving PTSD, overcoming the devastation of suicide loss, and healing from the trauma of military sexual assault. These personal challenges nearly silenced my future. But instead of allowing them to define me, I chose to rise—committed to using my pain as a path to healing for others. After leaving the military, I felt broken and directionless. The invisible wounds I carried were heavy, and for a time, I believed they might defeat me. But with the support of the VA’s education benefits and a deep internal desire to reclaim my purpose, I returned to school. I pursued a career in Health and Human Services, a field that allowed me to combine my lived experience with academic and professional training to create real change for other veterans like me. Today, I work at the intersection of research development, program evaluation, and government and grant funding to improve trauma recovery programs for military veterans. My focus is not just on physical or mental health—it’s on designing and supporting holistic healing initiatives that recognize the spiritual, emotional, and cultural dimensions of recovery. I believe that healing is not one-size-fits-all, and I am committed to building systems that are compassionate, comprehensive, and innovative. What sets me apart in this work is that I don’t just understand trauma academically—I have lived it. I know what it feels like to be unseen in the system, to sit in silence with unbearable memories, and to struggle to find services that speak to the soul as much as they serve the body. These experiences give me a unique lens, not just as a professional, but as a survivor—one who is deeply invested in changing the way we approach healthcare for veterans. My mission is clear: to be a voice for the voiceless, to reform the programs that have failed so many, and to ensure that no veteran has to walk the healing journey alone. I may not work in a hospital, but the work I do behind the scenes—securing funding, designing trauma-informed programs, and advocating for better systems—saves lives all the same. In transforming my own pain into purpose, I have found not only healing—but a calling. And I intend to spend the rest of my life helping others do the same.

Living with a chronic medical condition changes the way you navigate the world—not just physically, but emotionally and professionally. For me, it redefined my identity, career path, and ultimately, my purpose. Although I choose to keep the specific nature of my diagnosis private, I can share that it interrupted a career I once thought I would have for life, leaving me to confront a profound sense of loss and uncertainty. This experience forced me to slow down, reevaluate my goals, and question the contributions I was meant to make in this life. Rather than allowing the condition to limit me, I embraced it as a catalyst for transformation. What once felt like an ending became the beginning of a journey more aligned with who I am and what I truly value—helping others heal and reclaim their power. I found my way into the field of human services, where I now dedicate my work to supporting individuals living with trauma, stress injuries, and disabilities, especially those stemming from military service. What inspires me to keep going—especially on difficult days—is the belief that my story can help someone else feel seen, validated, and hopeful. I understand firsthand how isolating it can be to struggle with something invisible. This knowledge fuels my determination to build programs that provide real, sustainable support for others who are walking a similar path. Currently, I’m completing a doctorate in Human Services, which has equipped me with the tools to transform my lived experiences into structured, impactful service. Through this training, I have gained skills in program design, grant writing, and nonprofit financial management. These skills are not just academic achievements; they are the keys to unlocking meaningful change. My goal is to develop and implement treatment programs that address post-traumatic stress, particularly for veterans, by securing government contracts and funding to bring these services to life. My condition no longer defines what I can’t do; it defines what I must do. It is the driving force behind my mission to empower others, advocate for accessible and compassionate care, and build systems that support healing and dignity. I didn’t choose the challenges I’ve faced, but I have chosen to use them. In doing so, I’ve found my purpose. The scholarship would enable me to fund the final year of my doctorate, as my military benefits are set to expire in the coming months. Scholarship funds would support the research study component of my degree, where I am creating a program evaluation to implement new therapy for post-traumatic stress.

As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving disabled veterans and their families through social service program design and research. As a military veteran and Doctorate student, my educational experience has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought a career path that would allow me to use my experiences to help others who have endured similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my master's degree in human services began. After graduating with my MS in Human Services in 2022, I felt led to pursue the Doctor of Human Services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA throughout my year in the program, and my challenges as a non-traditional disabled veteran student were a blessing in disguise and set me up for success! The skills I learned as a Marine I still hold close to this day include honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma and are impacted by disabilities. I am also highly engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at a 501c3 therapy organization called Bravehearts Therapeutic Riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma, disabilities, and PTSD are treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also a certified American Council on Exercise personal trainer and nutrition coach. The transformative effect I witnessed on my healing journey fueled this passion for health and wellness. I am passionate about bringing together physical, mental, and spiritual wellness as a catalyst for healing and improving the quality of life of those impacted by trauma and disabilities. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine. This funding will allow me to pay for the portion of tuition I am currently paying out of pocket, as the VA education benefits I have earned pay for 70% of my tuition. Upon completion of my Doctorate in Human Services, I will be equipped to give back to the community and make an impact on a national level through grant writing, program development, scientific research, program evaluation, advocacy, activism, and lobbying for political change, funding allocation, and human rights.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.

As a military veteran and full time Doctorate student, my educational experience has been far from traditional! It has been a journey of overcoming challenges and barriers, especially as a disabled Marine Corps veteran with PTSD. After the loss of my brother due to suicide in 2014 and being honorably discharged from the military, I felt lost. With the help of the VA, I sought out to seek a career path that would bring healing to others who have went through similar challenges. This is where the pursuit of my masters degree in human services began. I am so passionate about helping others that I am now a year into my doctor of human services program. I have maintained a 4.0 GPA, the challenges faced as a non-traditional student actually set me up for success! The skills I learned as a marine I still hold close to this day such as honor, courage, commitment, attention to detail, and serving a purpose bigger than ourselves. Being a disabled military veteran, it was a challenge at times to integrate back into the civilian world, especially as an adult learner. The challenges I faced have pushed me to pursue the purpose and calling of helping others who have been through trauma. I am also extremely engaged with community services and volunteering as I have done advocacy work for suicide prevention and work with disabled veterans and children with disabilities at therapy organization called Bravehearts therapeutic riding. My future goals include working to help change the way that trauma and PTSD is treated in our military veteran population by enhancing the quality of care through social service program design and research. As a Doctoral student at Capella University, I am pursuing my passion for serving veterans and their families through social service program design and research. I have over six years of experience in the human services field, with a master's degree in health and human services from Capella University and a certificate in health and wellness from Cornell University. I also hold certifications in small business management from Loyola University and in nonprofit management from Northern Illinois University. I am also an American Council on Exercise certified personal trainer and nutrition coach. My background as a Marine Corps veteran and an unmanned aerial vehicle operator gives me a unique perspective and insight into the needs and challenges of the veteran community. I piloted the RQ-7B "Shadow" drone for surveillance and reconnaissance missions, earning an associate's degree in unmanned aviation and an FAA private pilot's license. I also performed various administrative duties, such as flight jacket management and documenting flight hours and certifications for pilots in my unit. I am proud of my honorable service and grateful for the skills and values I acquired as a Marine.