My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a Black, adopted college student pursuing a degree in social work at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. I am also a campus ministry leader, a former athlete, and most importantly, someone who believes in the power of presence the kind of consistent, compassionate presence that Michael Pride, Jr. modeled throughout his life. Today, I serve my community through a faith-based college ministry I co-founded called Evolve Whitewater. Through this organization, I help lead outreach efforts, host men's mental health groups, and create spaces for students to find connection, healing, and hope. One of our most impactful programs is Men’s Tru Talks, a weekly gathering for young men to have honest conversations about topics that often go unspoken mental health, trauma, self-worth, and spiritual identity. These aren’t surface-level check-ins. These are deep, vulnerable moments where men are learning to cry without shame, pray without fear, and lead without ego. As someone who once believed I had to hide my struggles behind strength, I now get to show others that strength is found in being real. Outside of our weekly gatherings, I’ve helped organize large-scale events that challenge the norm. One of those is Kingdom Call, a weekend outreach event created as an alternative to Spring Splash, a party-heavy weekend on campus. Instead of condemning students, we invited them into a different kind of celebration, one filled with live worship, free food, uplifting conversations, and a welcoming atmosphere. For some, it was their first encounter with faith. For others, it was the first time they felt truly seen. That’s what Mike lived for—meeting people where they are, even in their mess, and offering something better. That’s the kind of legacy I want to carry forward. My experiences as an adoptee, a former athlete whose career was cut short by injury, and a young Black man navigating identity have all shaped my desire to serve. I know what it’s like to feel disconnected, like no one understands what you’re carrying. I know what it means to smile on the outside while struggling silently. But I also know what it feels like when someone finally sees you, not just for your potential, but for your pain too. That’s why I show up. Whether it’s through a one-on-one conversation in the student union or a late-night prayer session in a dorm lobby, I aim to be a compassionate ear like Mike was someone who never turns away those in need. My long-term goal is to become a licensed clinical social worker focused on youth and young adults, particularly young Black men. I plan to work in schools, community centers, and faith-based environments where healing and transformation are possible. I don’t want to just treat problems I want to prevent them by building support systems that help people flourish. Spaces that say: “You matter. You’re not alone. There’s still hope.” Receiving the Michael Pride, Jr. Memorial Scholarship would be more than a financial blessing. It would be a spiritual partnership. It would allow me to continue building what Mike so deeply believed in: safe places for the hurting, the unheard, and the hopeful. I want to carry his legacy by pouring into the next generation with the same love, laughter, and light he shared with the world. Because when we serve others, we don’t just make moments, we create movements.

My name is Bryson Clarson, and I am a social work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. I am also a young Black man, adopted into a multiracial family, a former athlete, a ministry leader, and someone who has personally walked through the valleys of physical disability, mental health struggles, and identity loss. These experiences have not only shaped who I am they’ve revealed what I’m called to do. My journey with disability began in the one place I felt most at home: the football field. As a defensive end, football was my world. It gave me structure, brotherhood, and purpose. But after enduring two hip surgeries, I had to give up the game. My identity, which I had built around athletics, began to crumble. I faced intense depression, anxiety, and a loss of direction. I wasn’t just healing from a physical injury but I was learning how to exist without the thing that once defined me. As a young man, I was taught to tough it out, to “be strong,” and to never let them see you sweat. But pain has a way of humbling you, and in my case, it also transformed me. I met God in my brokenness and learned that my strength was never in how much I could carry but in how honest I was willing to be. This personal journey sparked my passion for social work. I want to focus my career on helping young people—particularly young Black men—navigate trauma, grief, mental health challenges, and the search for identity. I believe social work is a calling, not just a career. It is the art of listening, the courage to show up, and the commitment to create safe spaces where people feel seen, heard, and valued. Today, I lead a student ministry on campus called Evolve Whitewater, where I co-facilitate a group called Men’s Tru Talks. This weekly space is where men, and many of them athletes come together to talk about mental health, faith, relationships, and pressure. It’s a space I wish existed when I was silently suffering. I bring my lived experience to the table every week—not from a place of expertise, but from empathy. Disability, chronic pain, and mental health struggles have all taught me how to slow down, how to listen deeper, and how to walk with people in their lowest moments. These experiences will forever impact the way I show up as a social worker. I know how it feels to be dismissed, misunderstood, or unseen and I never want another young person to feel that way on my watch. In the future, I hope to work in schools, juvenile justice programs, or community centers, helping youth develop healthy identities and emotional resilience. My ultimate goal is to be the person I once needed someone who leads with compassion, advocates with conviction, and never forgets the power of presence. Because of my journey, I no longer see my pain as a setback. It is blossoming into the foundation of the purpose I’m building.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a Black, adopted college student, a former athlete, a campus ministry leader, and a social work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. For much of my life, my identity was rooted in sports. As a young man growing up without consistent guidance or a deep spiritual foundation, football became my everything. It gave me purpose, structure, and confidence. I poured my entire life into the dream of going pro. But when I got to college, everything I thought defined me began to fall apart. For the first time, I wasn’t the best athlete in the room. I wasn’t the most impressive. That shook me. Anxiety crept in—silently at first, then louder each day. I started to struggle with performance anxiety, self-worth, and body image. I believed I needed to look and weigh a certain way to be “enough.” I would eat when I wasn’t hungry, push my body past its limits, and still feel like I wasn’t doing enough. I smiled on the outside, but inside I was drowning. Pride kept me from reaching out. As a young Black man, I thought I had to be strong, silent, and steady. Vulnerability felt like weakness—until everything came crashing down. In 2025, I had to undergo two hip surgeries that ended my football career. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t an athlete. I wasn’t who I thought I was. And that’s when I found something far greater: I found God. I found purpose. I found who I truly am. That same year, I co-founded Evolve Whitewater, an all-volunteer campus ministry with one mission: to answer the cry of Whitewater for a true encounter with God. We started with just six students, but our message caught fire. Today, we have over 20 committed leaders serving the campus and surrounding community through outreach, prayer, and relationship-building. As the Men’s Outreach Leader, I’ve helped shape this ministry into more than just a place of worship—it’s a place of healing. One of the most important spaces I lead is Men’s Tru Talks. Every week, we create a safe, judgment-free space where young men can come together to talk about real things: anxiety, fatherlessness, identity, trauma, and faith. These are the conversations I needed as a kid but never had access to. Being adopted and navigating life without that emotional grounding left a void in me for years. Tru Talks gives men the freedom to be honest, to cry, to be prayed over, and to leave lighter than they came. I also created Kingdom Call, an outreach event that runs during Spring Splash, the largest college party in Whitewater. Instead of joining the chaos, we provide an uplifting, alcohol-free space where students can gather for food, worship, community, and conversation. We meet people where they are, without judgment, and offer something deeper—a connection to faith, love, and a community that truly cares. Leadership through service means putting others before yourself, not for recognition, but because every person matters. It means leading with empathy, integrity, and compassion. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being present. I am pursuing a degree in social work because I want to dedicate my life to helping people heal—especially young Black men who feel like they have to carry the world in silence. I’ve been there. Now, I want to be the person I once needed. This scholarship would support not just my education, but my mission: to build safe spaces, empower the unseen, and lead with love wherever I go

The legacy of Sgt. Albert Dono Ware speaks not only of his courage in battle, but of the enduring power of service, sacrifice, and bravery. These values are not abstract ideals—they are lifelines that continue to shape the lived experiences of Black men like myself, who navigate a world filled with both promise and persistent injustice. I live my life in serving others, and standing in boldness for my faith. Growing up as a young Black man, my life was marked by complexity early on. I was adopted, and while deeply loved, I wrestled with a sense of identity, trying to understand where I belonged, what legacy I carried, and what it meant to truly feel seen. In many ways, that tension gave birth to the resilience I walk in today. I learned early that leadership was not about position but about presence. Whether on the football field or track, I embraced my role not just as an athlete, but as a brother, encourager, and motivator for my teammates. Sports gave me structure, but the pain of losing that platform due to injury ultimately refined my purpose. This year, I have have to undergo two hip surgeries this . After months of physical and emotional struggle, I made the decision to step away from the sport that had defined so much of my identity. That loss led to a new season—marked by reflection, prayer, and redirection. Through my involvement in campus ministry, I discovered my calling went beyond athletics. I became a Resident Assistant and later served as the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, a student-led ministry committed to bringing hope and healing to our campus. In these roles, I found myself walking alongside students, many of them young men like me, who were silently battling depression, performance anxiety, suicidal ideation, and scars left by broken homes and systemic oppression. I realized that God was calling me to serve others, not just through words, but by showing up in hard places. I was no longer just encouraging teammates—I was standing in the gap for peers wrestling with whether their lives mattered. I became a safe place for others because I knew what it was like to need one. True leadership requires the sacrifice of time, comfort, and ego. It requires bravery to confront what’s broken in our systems and in ourselves. Sgt. Ware’s example reminds me that even when the world overlooks us, our presence matters. We are called to carry burdens we did not create, but also to rewrite stories for those who come after us. The challenges faced by the African diaspora in the United States today are rooted in generations of injustice, but they are not without solutions. From disparities in mental health access to mass incarceration, the needs are urgent, and the moment is calling for leaders with vision and compassion. My vision is to become a trauma-informed social worker and counselor who can create culturally competent healing spaces for Black men and youth. Walking through my own battles and supporting others through theirs, I’ve come to believe that transformation begins when we feel safe enough to be seen, heard, and healed. There is a mental health crisis in our community, but stigma and lack of access continue to silence our pain. I have watched peers choose silence over counseling because they didn’t trust the system to understand their experience. According to the American Psychological Association, Black Americans are 20% more likely to experience serious mental health issues, but only one in three who need care actually receive it. This must change. I want to help raise up a new generation of Black male counselors, therapists, and advocates who walk with our communities through healing and restoration. Education has been both a gift and a battleground for our people. I am a college student not just pursuing a degree, but breaking a cycle. I believe in the power of higher education—but I also know the barriers that exist for students who look like me. I want to work alongside educators, school counselors, and community leaders to increase retention, mentorship, and scholarship opportunities for Black students in underserved schools. We need to make college a place of empowerment, not exclusion. I do not take lightly the responsibility of carrying his legacy forward. Every life I touch, every student I mentor, every system I challenge, and every soul I encourage is a reflection of his influence—even generations later. I may not wear a uniform like Sgt. Ware did, but I fight daily battles for justice, hope, and restoration. I stand on the shoulders of heroes like him and pray my life serves as a bridge for others to find their own courage. In the spirit of service, sacrifice, and bravery, I am committed to leading with purpose, living with integrity, and lifting others as I climb.

Adversity has a way of shaping who we are. It tests our resilience, challenges our beliefs, and often reveals strength we didn’t know we had. For me, one of the most defining adversities I have faced was navigating life as a Black man adopted into a white family, while also struggling to find my identity, faith, and purpose amidst pressure, performance, and pain. I was adopted as an infant, along with my biological brother, into a loving family. While my parents did everything they could to provide for us, growing up as a Black child in a predominantly white environment came with a unique set of challenges. I often felt like I was straddling two worlds—one where I never quite looked like those around me, and another that I didn’t fully understand. I wrestled with questions about my cultural identity, belonging, and worth. I was surrounded by love, but I still felt like I had to figure out who I was on my own. As I got older, I poured myself into football. It became more than a sport; it became my identity. On the field, I felt seen. I thought performance would give me purpose. But eventually, the pressure I placed on myself began to weigh me down. College football brought a deeper level of stress and anxiety. My worth was tangled in stats and approval. That internal battle, coupled with the unresolved questions of identity I had carried since childhood, pushed me into a quiet but dangerous place of self-doubt and confusion. The turning point came during my freshman year at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater. At the time, I was emotionally drained and spiritually empty. That’s when I encountered people who radiated peace and purpose—people who had a relationship with God. Their joy was different, and it drew me in. Through them, I was introduced to a faith community that welcomed me as I was. I started to ask questions about God, faith, and identity—not as something I inherited, but something I could choose for myself. I gave my life to Christ during that season. For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t alone. God became my anchor. I began to learn that my worth wasn’t rooted in performance, background, or approval from others—it was rooted in who I was as a child of God. From that place of healing, I found new purpose. I became a Resident Assistant, started leading Bible studies for my teammates, and helped launch a campus ministry called Evolve Whitewater. I now serve as the Men’s Outreach Leader, mentoring other young men through their own struggles with identity, performance, and faith. This adversity—struggling with identity, pressure, and faith—shaped me into the man I am today. It taught me compassion, resilience, and the power of vulnerability. I now live to help others discover their worth and purpose beyond what the world tells them they are. To anyone facing similar circumstances, I would say this: You don’t have to have all the answers to take the first step toward healing. You are not alone in your confusion or pain. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, and don’t be afraid to question what you believe. Sometimes the breakthrough comes not from having it all figured out, but from being honest enough to admit you’re struggling. There’s power in that honesty—and even more power in hope. Adversity will come, but it doesn’t have to define you. It can refine you. And when you let it, your story can become someone else’s survival guide.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I’m an adopted African American man and a lifelong athlete. Since childhood, I always had a ball in my hand or a game to attend. Sports gave me purpose, structure, and pride. College was the next chapter of that story. I dreamed of making it to the NFL. I had thrived in high school—on the field and off—but college was a wake-up call. For the first time, I wasn’t the best athlete in the room. I didn’t stand out. I didn’t feel seen. And I began questioning everything I thought I knew about myself. That’s when anxiety crept in and eventually, it took over. My sports anxiety was heightened in my first year of college until now. The performance had become my identity. It was what people knew me for, what I was praised for, and what I relied on to feel worthy. I now realize that performance had become an idol—something I felt God was calling me to lay at the altar. My life was stuck in a loop: wake up early, go to practice, attend class, go back to practice, sleep, repeat. It wore me down mentally, emotionally, and physically. My anxiety also bled into my relationship with food. I believed I needed to reach a certain weight to succeed as a defensive end. The scale became a symbol of value. I wasn’t just eating to fuel my body, I was eating to feel “good enough.” I would force myself to eat even when I wasn’t hungry, chasing a number that never seemed close enough. Pride kept me from reaching out. I didn’t want to admit I was struggling, especially as a young Black man. My friends would joke about appearances and performance, and I’d laugh along, even when it hurt. Even after I gave my life to Christ, I still found it hard to believe I was truly enough. I believed God could redeem others, but I wasn’t sure He could do the same for me. It was not until this year that, everything changed. Due to injury, I had to undergo two hip surgeries that ended my time as an athlete. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t defined by football. I wasn’t an athlete—I was just Bryson. That loss was painful, but it forced me to re-examine who I was without the jersey. And in that process, I found something greater: a desire to help others. That same year, I worked in a group home with young men, some of whom were athletes just like I had been. Being able to share my story with them—openly and honestly—was healing. I told them what I wish someone had told me: it’s okay not to be okay. That experience inspired me to pursue a degree in social work. I want to walk alongside young people, especially young men of color, who feel like they have to carry it all alone. College isn’t just about a degree for me. It’s about purpose. It’s about healing. And it’s about helping others find freedom in who they are—not just in what they do.

Substance abuse has profoundly shaped my beliefs, relationships, and career aspirations, and the impact of this experience continues to define my path. Growing up I became acutely aware of the pain and devastation it caused to individuals and families. Watching loved ones struggle with addiction, I gained a deep understanding of its far-reaching consequences. This understanding has influenced my worldview, driving me to advocate for those impacted by addiction and to pursue a career focused on recovery, mental health, and support. Early on, witnessed the impact of substance abuse on people I care about, I began to realize that addiction is not merely a moral weakness but a complex issue that involves mental health, trauma, and environmental factors. Addiction, I’ve learned, is a disease that often requires treatment, empathy, and ongoing support for recovery. This shift in understanding has made me a firm believer in the importance of providing compassion and support to those struggling with addiction, rather than judgment. I believe everyone deserves the chance to heal, and that true recovery involves addressing the mind, body, and spirit. Faith has played a significant role in shaping my beliefs. Throughout the difficult times, my relationship with God has given me hope and the strength to push through challenges. I’ve come to understand that addiction often involves deep emotional and spiritual wounds. My faith has led me to believe that healing is not just about abstaining from substances but about rediscovering one’s worth, value, and purpose in life. I hold to the conviction that with God’s grace, along with community support and professional help, healing and redemption are possible. This belief is the foundation of my aspiration to work in the field of recovery, where I can bring a holistic approach that integrates spiritual, emotional, and psychological healing. Watching family members and friends struggle with addiction created emotional distance, built walls of frustration, and led to deep feelings of helplessness. The toll addiction takes on relationships is staggering, but it also taught me valuable lessons about boundaries, self-care, and patience. I’ve learned to balance compassion with self-preservation, realizing that helping others doesn’t mean sacrificing my own well-being. Through this, I’ve developed stronger, more empathetic relationships with those around me, particularly those who have struggled with addiction. Rather than turning away in frustration, I’ve learned to listen with empathy and offer support in ways that encourage positive change without enabling harmful behaviors. These experiences have significantly shaped my career aspirations. I am determined to use my experiences and understanding of substance abuse to help others who are struggling with similar issues. I aspire to work in social work, counseling, or recovery programs where I can guide individuals toward healing and recovery. I am particularly interested in programs that provide not only addiction treatment but also mental health services, as I have seen how deeply connected addiction is to underlying issues like trauma, anxiety, and depression. By combining my desire to help others with my personal experiences, I hope to be a part of programs that offer holistic care for individuals battling addiction. I want to be a source of support for those who are struggling, helping them rediscover their worth and find hope in the midst of their darkest moments. Substance abuse has taught me the importance of compassion, patience, and the belief that every person deserves a chance to heal. I believe that with the right support, recovery is possible, and I plan to dedicate my life to providing that support to others.

My name is Bryson Clarson, and I am a 21-year-old student at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater. I am majoring in Social Work with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing. I was adopted as an infant and raised in a transracial adoptive family, which has shaped my understanding of identity, resilience, and community. Growing up in a diverse household taught me the importance of love, acceptance, and the power of having a support system. These experiences have driven my passion for helping others and giving back to the community. I came to know Jesus Christ during my time in college, a transformative moment that radically changed my life and my perspective on the world. Before my faith journey began, I struggled with placing my worth in external achievements—especially in my role as a college football player. Over time, I found that my true purpose was not in my performance or accolades but in my relationship with Christ. This shift in focus led me to a deeper sense of peace and fulfillment and ignited my desire to help others experience the same transformation. Throughout my college years, I’ve been actively involved in various leadership roles, most notably as the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, a campus ministry I co-founded. In this role, I mentor other students, particularly young men, helping them find their worth in Christ rather than in worldly standards. I’ve also served as a Resident Assistant, where I create a safe, inclusive environment for my peers, offering emotional support and guidance when needed. These experiences have strengthened my passion for mental health, emotional well-being, and social justice, particularly for marginalized communities. Looking ahead, my career aspirations are centered on serving others through social work. I want to work with individuals facing mental health challenges, especially those from underserved backgrounds, to help them overcome adversity and lead fulfilling lives. Whether through counseling, community outreach, or advocacy work, I am committed to making a lasting, positive impact in the lives of others. My goal is to create environments where people feel seen, heard, and empowered to heal, grow, and thrive. In addition to my social work career, I aim to use my passion for coaching and writing to influence lives positively. I believe that sports and storytelling both have the potential to shape character, inspire perseverance, and offer hope. I hope to combine these interests with my social work background to support youth, especially those in underrepresented communities, by offering mentorship and guidance in both personal development and emotional resilience. Ultimately, I plan to spend my life contributing to causes that promote mental health awareness, community-building, and social equity. I will continue to serve others, grow as a leader, and dedicate my time to making a positive impact on the world, especially for those who are often overlooked or marginalized. The knowledge, skills, and resources I gain through my education and experiences will empower me to fulfill my calling and serve with compassion, humility, and love.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a 21-year-old student-athlete at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater majoring in Social Work with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing. I’m also a Black man who was adopted at a few months old into a transracial family. My journey has been anything but easy—but it has shaped a powerful purpose within me: to serve others, especially young men of color who feel unseen, unheard, or misunderstood. Living independently has brought many financial challenges. Unlike many of my peers, I don’t have a traditional safety net to fall back on. My adoptive parents love me deeply but are not in a position to financially support all aspects of my college journey. From rent, food, and transportation, to basic living expenses, I’ve had to figure things out on my own. On top of my coursework and football commitments, I work as a Resident Assistant to help cover housing and reduce out-of-pocket expenses. There are times I’ve had to choose between groceries and textbooks, or gas money and social outings. Despite these pressures, I’ve stayed committed to my academic, personal, and spiritual growth. My long-term goal is to become a licensed social worker and open a nonprofit center dedicated to mental health, mentorship, and empowerment for youth and young adults—particularly those from foster care, low-income households, or underserved communities. I believe that no one should be defined by where they came from or what they’ve been through. As someone who battled anxiety, identity struggles, and performance-based self-worth, I know how crucial it is to have access to safe, healing-centered spaces. My dream is to build those spaces—combining counseling, faith-based mentorship, creative outlets, and leadership development. A turning point in my life came when I got involved with Evolve Whitewater, a student-led branch of Evolve Church on our campus. In 2024, I helped start this ministry alongside a few passionate peers. I now serve as the Men’s Outreach Leader. Through Evolve, I’ve had the opportunity to lead Bible studies, mentor younger students, and foster an inclusive space where people can find both faith and friendship. We meet weekly to worship, learn, pray, and talk through life’s challenges. Many students have shared how Evolve helped them return to faith, seek help for their mental health, or find a sense of belonging on campus. This ministry has not only helped others—it has transformed me. It gave me purpose beyond sports, taught me how to lead with humility, and showed me what it means to live selflessly. I also serve as a Resident Assistant, where I support dozens of students in their day-to-day challenges, many of whom are navigating personal, academic, or emotional obstacles. Whether it’s helping someone adjust to college life, talking through homesickness, or connecting them to mental health resources, I approach every student with compassion, empathy, and understanding. These roles have taught me to be more attentive, emotionally present, and confident in the difference I can make in someone’s life. This scholarship would lift a significant financial burden and allow me to focus more intentionally on my education, faith work, and career development. With your support, I can afford living costs, pursue internships, attend leadership trainings, and graduate without overwhelming debt. Every dollar brings me one step closer to launching the kind of center I wish I had growing up—a place where young people can find healing, purpose, and a future filled with hope. My story isn’t one of perfection—but of perseverance, faith, and purpose. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to apply for this scholarship, and I commit to using it not just for my own success, but to uplift others who need a reminder that their story matters, too.

Jesus Christ has transformed my life—and He continues to every single day. He is my first love, my anchor, and the foundation of my identity. His love has renewed every part of me: my mind, my heart, and my purpose. I find deep joy in my relationship with Him and strive to make a Christlike impact wherever I go. More than just belief, my faith in Christ has become the driving force behind every decision I make and the vision I have for my future. But this relationship wasn’t always present. My journey into Christianity is marked by searching, brokenness, and redemption. I was adopted as an infant, along with my biological brother, into a loving transracial adoptive family. Though I was raised in a safe and stable home, the complexity of my identity was always something I wrestled with. As a Black child in a white household, questions about where I belonged, who I was, and how others saw me often sat in the back of my mind. I felt loved by my family, but I also felt different—like I was living in between two worlds. Growing up, we attended church off and on. But my understanding of Christianity was shallow. I knew the right words to say, when to bow my head, and how to act like I was engaged—but it never went deeper than that. I didn’t grasp that Christianity was about a relationship, not a religion. I didn’t understand that the God of the universe desired to walk with me personally. Looking back, I realize that I had a spiritual hunger, but I didn’t know where to bring it. I searched for meaning in things that would never satisfy me. That search intensified when I entered college. I currently attend the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater, where I’m majoring in Social Work and minoring in Coaching and Creative Writing. I’ve also been a student-athlete on the football team for the past three years. When I arrived as a freshman, football was everything to me. It was how I defined myself. If I had a good game, I was valuable. If I messed up, my entire self-worth crumbled. It became an idol in my life—a place I turned to for purpose, identity, and validation. I didn’t realize at the time that I was building my life on something that could never truly hold me. Football brought incredible highs, but it also brought intense pressure. I experienced anxiety, stress, and doubt like I never had before. I was expected to perform, to lead, to be strong—but I often felt lost and weak. I didn’t know how to ask for help, and I didn’t want to admit that I was struggling. On the outside, I had what looked like success, but inside, I was crumbling. That’s when God met me. During my freshman year, I began to spend time with a group of Christ-centered students who were genuinely living out their faith. There was something different about them. Their peace, their joy, their love for others—it was real. I saw how they carried themselves with humility and strength that didn’t come from within themselves, and I wanted to know what they had. For the first time in my life, I saw what it meant to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Slowly, my heart began to change. I stopped going through the motions and started seeking God on my own. I began reading the Bible, asking questions, attending church regularly, and praying not just in routine but in relationship. I realized that I wasn’t created to live for football—I was created to live for Christ. I laid down my idol and began building a new foundation. When I returned for my second semester that year, I started making intentional decisions to grow spiritually. I went on mission trips, built faith-based friendships, and sought out community that would challenge and encourage me in my walk with God. That year, I encountered Jesus in a way that changed everything. I no longer saw myself through the lens of performance but through the lens of grace. I learned that my value isn’t based on stats, accolades, or how “tough” I am—it’s based on who God says I am. That truth began to transform how I saw myself, how I treated others, and how I lived every day. As my faith grew, I found new purpose—not just for myself, but for others. I realized that everything God was doing in me wasn’t just for me; it was so I could reach others who were hurting just like I was. Since that time, I’ve stepped into multiple leadership roles on campus. I’ve led Bible studies and team prayer meetings with my teammates. I’ve become a Resident Assistant, where I get to support and serve fellow students daily. I’ve had hard conversations, been a shoulder to cry on, and offered encouragement to those feeling hopeless. I’ve seen how God can use someone’s past pain to bring healing to others, and I’m committed to letting Him use mine. In 2024, I helped start Evolve Whitewater, a campus ministry that is an extension of Evolve Church in Milwaukee. As one of the founding members and the Men’s Outreach Leader, I focus on mentoring young men and helping them discover who they are in Christ. Many of them come to college with the same broken mindset I had—believing their worth is tied to what they do. Through small groups, one-on-one mentorship, and events, I get to walk with them as they encounter God for themselves. It’s an honor I don’t take lightly. My long-term career goals are deeply rooted in this same desire: to help others find healing, wholeness, and purpose. That’s why I chose Social Work as my major. I want to serve individuals and families who are navigating trauma, poverty, identity struggles, or mental health challenges. I’m especially passionate about working with youth in the foster care system, because I know what it feels like to be disconnected from your biological family and to question where you belong. My experience as an adoptee gives me a unique empathy that I believe God will use to help others feel seen and supported. I also have a strong interest in coaching and writing. Through coaching, I hope to mentor young athletes—teaching them not only how to win on the field, but how to develop strong character, discipline, and integrity. Through writing, I want to share stories and messages that reflect the hope of the Gospel. Whether that’s through devotionals, blogs, or eventually a book, I see writing as another way to minister to people and offer encouragement in their walk with God. Receiving this scholarship would be a tremendous blessing. It would help relieve the financial burden of my education, allowing me to focus more deeply on my studies, my ministry work, and my personal development. As someone who wants to enter a helping profession that often doesn’t come with a high salary, graduating with as little debt as possible is a key goal of mine. I want to be free to serve where God calls me, not limited by financial stress or repayment plans. More than that, this scholarship would affirm the journey I’ve taken—from lost and broken to redeemed and purposeful. It would be an investment not just in my education, but in the lives I’ll impact through that education. I believe God has called me to be a light in dark places, and with your support, I can be even more equipped to walk boldly into that calling. My future plans are centered around service. After graduation, I plan to pursue licensure as a social worker and begin working in a community-based organization that supports youth and families. Eventually, I hope to start a non-profit focused on mentorship and discipleship for young men from underserved backgrounds. I also want to remain active in ministry, either through church leadership or campus outreach, and continue writing as a form of encouragement and evangelism. Through every test has come a testimony. My life is a reflection of God’s grace, and I’m committed to using my story to uplift others. I’ve come this far only because of Him—and I know that whatever lies ahead, He will continue to lead me.

My name is Bryson Clarson, and I am a junior at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater majoring in Social Work. I am an adopted African American Christian, student-athlete, and campus leader with a heart for service and a passion for helping others. My life has been shaped by challenges, but even more by the grace and strength God has provided me through each of them. I was adopted by a woman whose faith and compassion have inspired my entire journey. Her decision to choose me changed my life—and it’s part of why I now feel called to be a consistent presence in the lives of others. From a young age, she taught my brother and me the value of faith, discipline, and hard work. These lessons took root through sports. I was rarely the most naturally gifted athlete, but I earned the respect of others through my work ethic, encouragement, and willingness to lead by example. For the past three years, I’ve played football at UW-Whitewater, and although I’m currently taking time off due to an upcoming hip surgery, the lessons I’ve learned on the field remain active in my life. Athletics have never just been about competition for me—they’ve been a way to serve others. Whether I’m supporting a teammate, thanking the support staff, or mentoring younger athletes, I see sports as a platform for worship and leadership. My goal isn’t to seek the spotlight, but to be a light—to point others toward purpose and truth through how I carry myself. Beyond athletics, I serve as a Resident Assistant and the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, a campus ministry focused on creating safe and authentic spaces for spiritual growth. As an RA, I’ve learned the value of presence—being available, calm, and compassionate in both crisis and day-to-day life. As a ministry leader, I’ve helped disciple young men, lead discussions, and pray with students who are wrestling with identity, mental health, or faith. This past summer, I worked at a group home, and that experience was one of the most transformative of my life. As someone who was adopted, I understand how fragile and sacred the lives of vulnerable individuals are. Serving youth and adults with behavioral and emotional challenges reminded me that people don’t just need solutions—they need someone who cares, someone who shows up. That’s when it clicked: this is my purpose. I’m pursuing a degree in Social Work because I believe God has called me to be a vessel of healing, restoration, and advocacy—especially for those navigating the silent struggles of mental health. I’ve seen the impact of mental health battles in my community, and in my own life. I’ve also seen what happens when someone finally feels seen. That’s who I want to be: someone who walks with people through their darkest valleys and helps them find light again. My strengths lie in my faith, my heart for people, and my ability to connect across differences. My weaknesses include sometimes stretching myself too thin in my effort to be everything for everyone. But even that comes from a deep desire to serve, and I’m learning the value of rest, boundaries, and asking for help. I try to live by the quote, “Love gives.” Whether that’s a word of encouragement, a quiet prayer, or my time, I want my life to reflect that kind of love. This scholarship would help lift a significant financial burden, allowing me to continue my education with greater focus and freedom. As I recover from surgery, this support would also be a reminder that I am not alone in this journey—that others believe in the vision I hold: a future where I can help break generational cycles, offer hope to the hurting, and bring healing to those the world often overlooks. I don’t want to just make a difference—I want to be the difference. I want to graduate, become a licensed social worker, and eventually open or support programs that help youth and families heal emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I believe that the intersection of faith, mental health, and social justice is where I’m called to serve.

Some people sew with fabric. Others sew with love, faith, and small, intentional acts of kindness that change lives. My adopted mom was one of those people. She didn’t just raise me—she sewed into me. And her bravery is the reason I am who I am today. I was adopted at a young age, and though I didn’t fully understand it back then, I now see the hand of God in every detail. My mom chose me—not because it was easy, but because it was right. She said yes to a child who carried trauma, fear, and uncertainty. She welcomed me into her heart, even when I struggled to trust that love could last. What shaped me most wasn’t just that she adopted me—it was how she lived after. My mom’s faith was the quiet, steady kind. She showed up when no one else did, prayed over me when I didn’t even believe in God yet, and reminded me that being chosen is a gift, not a burden. She sewed seeds of worth and stability into me long before I had the words to describe what that meant. When I entered college, I finally gave my life to Christ. It was in that moment I realized my mom wasn’t just showing me love—she was showing me God’s love. Her intentionality, her faith, her quiet encouragement—those weren’t just good parenting tactics. They were ministry. She lived her faith in action, and that planted a seed in me that is now bearing fruit. Today, I am a college student studying Social Work, with dreams of becoming a licensed clinical social worker. I’ve committed my life to serving others—especially those who are often overlooked. I work in a group home for youth and adults with special needs and behavioral challenges. I show up for them the same way my mom showed up for me: with patience, presence, and purpose. I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, and I also know what it feels like to be loved anyway. That’s what I bring into every shift and every conversation. I also serve as the Men’s Outreach Leader for a college ministry I helped launch called Evolve Whitewater. We’re a faith-based community on campus, and I lead a group called Tru Talks, where young men talk openly about real struggles—identity, faith, family, and mental health. A lot of them have never been told it’s okay to cry, to feel deeply, or to ask for help. I remind them that strength isn’t the absence of emotion—it’s being honest enough to face it. That’s another seed my mom sewed into me. My future isn’t just about having a career—it’s about building spaces where others feel chosen, heard, and loved. Whether I’m in a therapy room, a church, or a community center, I want people to walk away knowing they matter. I want to sew hope into others, one conversation at a time. I am who I am because someone took a leap of faith and chose to love me unconditionally. Now, I honor that choice every day by doing the same for others. I carry my mom’s legacy with me—not just in what I say, but in how I live. And I believe that the seeds she sewed in me will bloom into something far greater than either of us could’ve imagined.

My name is Bryson Clarson, and I am a Social Work major with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. I am a Black, adopted college student, a student-athlete, a ministry leader, and above all, someone who strives daily to be a light in the lives of others. With a 3.64 GPA, I balance rigorous academics, football, multiple leadership roles, and employment—all driven by a deep passion to advocate for those who are too often overlooked, especially individuals with special needs. Growing up, I faced many personal challenges that have shaped the way I see the world. I didn’t always feel seen, heard, or safe—and I didn’t grow up knowing how to use my voice for others. But college changed my life. I discovered my calling not just through academics but through service. I found a deep sense of purpose in building communities of support for others—especially those who, like I once did, struggle to feel like they belong. One of the most transformative roles I’ve taken on is working as a Group Home Assistant supporting youth with special needs and behavioral challenges. Many of the residents I serve have experienced trauma, neglect, and instability. Some are non-verbal, others live with developmental disabilities, and many battle mental health diagnoses that require patience, structure, and unconditional support. These young people have taught me what true resilience looks like. They’ve also shown me the gap in our system—the lack of properly trained staff, emotional care, and holistic support that so many individuals with special needs deserve. Every shift at the group home challenges me to lead with compassion and consistency. Whether I’m de-escalating a crisis, helping a resident through a sensory overload, or just being present when someone needs a safe adult, I’ve learned that small, faithful acts of love make a lasting impact. These moments have fueled my desire to pursue social work with a focus on special needs advocacy and trauma-informed care. I believe every individual—regardless of ability—deserves to be seen, heard, and empowered to thrive. In addition to my professional experience, I also lead Men’s Outreach for Evolve Whitewater, a student-led campus ministry that I helped launch in 2024. I created Men’s Tru Talks, a space for men to discuss mental health, identity, and healing through faith and vulnerability. The tools I use in ministry—active listening, empathy, and community-building—mirror the heart of what it means to serve the special needs community with dignity and care. My long-term goal is to work as a licensed clinical social worker, specializing in services for youth and adults with special needs. I want to create inclusive environments where families feel supported, individuals feel valued, and no one is defined by their diagnosis or limitations. Whether it’s through direct service, advocacy, or systemic reform, I am committed to making a positive social impact—championing equity, accessibility, and love. Receiving the Bogdan Radich Memorial Scholarship would not only support my academic journey financially but also honor the very mission that drives my life. This scholarship reflects the kind of world I want to help build—one where everyone, no matter their abilities, is embraced, respected, and given the tools to thrive. Thank you for considering my application. I carry the stories of those I serve in my heart every day, and I am committed to being the kind of advocate who brings change—not just with my words, but with my life.

"It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing." (On the Shortness of Life, p. 5) In his classic work On the Shortness of Life, the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca delivers a piercing reflection on time and how we spend it. The paragraph I chose serves as the core thesis of his work: life is not inherently short; it simply becomes short when we misuse it. This idea is both profound and confrontational. It invites readers to evaluate not the quantity of their years, but the quality and purpose with which they live them. Seneca's words do more than inspire; they confront the illusions we hold about time and push us toward an urgent, purposeful existence. As a Black man who was adopted and is now pursuing a degree in social work, this passage speaks deeply to my personal journey and ambitions. I am Bryson Clarson, a first-generation college student and someone who understands what it means to live with intention. My life has been shaped by the grace of second chances, the strength of community, and the resilience of faith. When Seneca speaks of investing life well, I think of the mentors who poured into me, the countless people who believed in me, and the calling I feel to give back. This is not an abstract message—it is my reality. Seneca’s insistence that life is long enough if used properly forces a reevaluation of what we consider a full life. In contemporary society, productivity is often confused with purpose. We race through our days with calendars packed and notifications buzzing, only to lie in bed at night wondering if anything we did truly mattered. Seneca’s message challenges this mindset by asking us to consider: are we busy, or are we meaningful? Are we active, or are we intentional? This distinction is essential for someone entering the field of social work. Social work is about more than checking boxes or hitting targets—it is about presence, empathy, and advocacy. It is about investing in people, especially those who feel invisible. Seneca’s challenge to avoid wasting life in “no good activity” resonates here. It reminds me that while my time in college is limited, it is also ripe with opportunity: to study deeply, to serve sincerely, and to prepare myself to help heal broken systems and uplift broken spirits. Seneca continues, saying that "when it is wasted in heedless luxury," we eventually wake up to find that life has slipped away. While I haven’t lived a life of luxury, I have seen how the allure of comfort and distraction can trap people into stagnation. In communities like mine, where resources may be limited and trauma can be generational, the temptation to give up or numb ourselves is real. Seneca's words feel like a wake-up call—one that affirms that each of us, no matter our background, has the potential to live richly if we live intentionally. Close reading this passage allows me to see how philosophy and my faith intersect. I am a devoted Christian, and one of my favorite scriptures is Ephesians 5:15-16: "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." Like Seneca, Paul encourages believers to live with focus and wisdom. Both texts highlight that time is a sacred gift, not to be taken for granted. Understanding this connection deepens my desire to pursue social work. The clients I will one day serve—whether youth in foster care, survivors of abuse, or families in crisis—deserve someone who doesn’t just show up but is present with purpose. Seneca compels me to make sure that my days in college are not just spent earning a degree but becoming the kind of person who can carry others through their darkest days. Moreover, this passage speaks to legacy. Seneca writes that we often only realize life has passed when we are face-to-face with death. This is a sobering truth. It reminds me that I don’t want to wait until I’m older to ask myself what my life was about. I want to ask now. I want to live in such a way that when I look back, I see service, love, courage, and faith. Seneca’s critique of wasted life isn’t just about laziness—it’s about misalignment. We often chase what the world tells us matters: money, recognition, status. But Seneca, and my own experience, suggests otherwise. Fulfillment comes when we align our time with our values. As an adopted Black student in higher education, I carry many identities. I carry stories that began before I was born and hopes that stretch far beyond me. My presence in college is itself a testimony that life, even when broken, can be beautiful when stewarded well. Seneca’s paragraph challenges me not to squander this moment, not to forget how far I’ve come, and not to delay my dreams for another day that isn’t promised. His words are particularly powerful in this season of life—as a college student, it’s easy to believe that "real life" starts after graduation. But Seneca would push back: this is real life. These are the days to invest wisely, to build character, to form lasting relationships, and to discover what truly matters. If I learn to live purposefully now, I won't reach the end of my life wondering where it all went. Finally, the Stoic idea of focusing on what is within our control deeply aligns with both Christian teaching and social work principles. I can’t control every obstacle, every system, or every hardship my future clients will face—but I can control how I prepare, how I show up, and how I use my time. Seneca’s paragraph is ultimately about agency. He is telling us that the power to live well is already in our hands. In conclusion, Seneca’s paragraph is not a pessimistic lament about life’s brevity, but a passionate plea to live fully and wisely. As a social work major, as a Black man, as someone adopted and raised to believe in purpose, and as a Christian, his message affirms my desire to live a life of impact. I don’t want to waste the time I’ve been given. I want to invest it. Seneca reminds us that life is not something that happens to us—it is something we choose to live. And for me, that life will be spent serving others, honoring God, and making every day count.

My name is Bryson Clarson, and I am a Black, adopted college student, a Social Work major with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. I strive every day to be a light in the lives of those around me, rooted in the truth of Joshua 1:9: “Be strong and courageous... for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” With a 3.64 GPA, I balance academics, football, multiple jobs, and leadership roles—each of them shaping me into the servant-leader I am becoming. My leadership journey hasn’t been traditional, but it has been transformative. Growing up, I didn’t have many safe spaces where I felt truly seen or heard. I didn’t grow up in faith, and I thought my worth came from performance—especially on the football field. But everything changed when I came to college and found God. Through Him, I discovered that real leadership is not about power or popularity. It’s about showing up, creating spaces of belonging, and loving people well. In 2024, I co-founded Evolve Whitewater, a student-led campus ministry focused on spiritual growth and authentic connection. What started as six students stepping out in faith quickly grew into a 21-member volunteer leadership team. As the Men’s Outreach Leader, I create events and small groups that meet students where they are—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. One initiative I’m especially proud of is Men’s Tru Talks, a weekly group where college men can open up about mental health, identity, trauma, and faith. Being adopted and often unsure of where I fit left me with emotional gaps growing up. Tru Talks is the kind of space I wish I had—a space for vulnerability, growth, and healing through brotherhood. Seeing other young men find strength in being honest, pray for each other, and support one another has been one of the most powerful parts of my leadership experience. Another impactful experience was organizing Kingdom Call, a faith-based outreach created in response to Spring Splash, a weekend known for partying and excessive drinking. Instead of judging, we offered students an alternative—a night filled with food, music, conversation, and hope. Our goal wasn’t to pull people out of the party, but to invite them into purpose. Beyond campus ministry, I also serve as a Resident Assistant and work professionally as a Group Home Assistant—roles that have sharpened my crisis response, communication, and mentoring skills. At the group home, I support teens who have experienced trauma, instability, and neglect. This work is not easy. Many residents test boundaries, resist structure, and carry heavy emotional wounds. But I’ve learned to lead with consistency, compassion, and calm authority. Whether I’m helping with conflict resolution, supporting their mental health needs, or just being a safe adult presence, I’ve seen how steady love can start to rebuild trust. These experiences—across ministry, residence life, and direct care—have taught me that leadership through service is about listening first, showing empathy, and standing in the gap for others. It’s about using your pain to build bridges for someone else’s healing. As I pursue a career in social work, I want to continue creating spaces where people feel safe, seen, and supported. My dream is to work with youth and families—especially those who’ve experienced trauma or feel overlooked by society. I believe healing happens in community, and I’m committed to building those communities wherever I go. Leadership is not about me—it’s about lifting others. One relationship, one conversation, and one life at a time.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a proud Black, adopted college student and a Social Work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. My experience with mental health hasn’t just influenced my life—it’s transformed it. It has shaped the way I see the world, deepened my relationships, redefined my purpose, and strengthened my faith in a God who meets people right in the middle of their pain. Growing up, we never really talked about mental health. Like many young Black men, I was raised in a culture that taught me to stay strong, push through, and never show weakness. The unspoken message was loud: “You’re a man. You’ll be fine.” But I wasn’t fine. And I carried that silence into every part of my life—smiling in public while struggling in private. I learned to bury emotions so deep that even I couldn’t name what I was feeling sometimes. I wore a mask of confidence and control, but underneath was a young man battling anxiety, depression, and identity confusion. College was supposed to be my reset. I came in with high hopes and big dreams as a football player. But during my first two years, I experienced back-to-back injuries and surgeries that ripped that dream from me. My entire identity had been built around being an athlete. Without it, I felt lost. I started spiraling mentally, isolating myself from others and questioning whether I had any value without football. There were nights I lay in my dorm room, overwhelmed by anxiety. I would stare at the ceiling and wonder, “Would anyone care if I weren’t here?” That’s the darkest part of mental health struggles—the lie that you are alone, that you’re a burden, and that your life doesn’t matter. I now know those are lies, but back then, they felt real. In one of my lowest moments, I cried out to God in frustration and desperation. I wasn’t raised in a deeply religious home, but I had always believed there was something more—someone greater. That night, I poured my heart out and asked, “God, if You’re real, show me You still have a purpose for me.” It wasn’t some dramatic vision or booming voice, but I felt a quiet truth rise in me: You are more than what you do. You are Mine. That moment became the beginning of my healing. I started reading the Bible, going to counseling, and surrounding myself with people who spoke life into me. My faith didn’t erase the struggle, but it gave me strength to walk through it. I began to see that my worth wasn’t based on performance or perfection, but on being a child of God. That truth has carried me through seasons of anxiety, depression, grief, and loss. This new lens changed everything—especially my relationships. For so long, I had put up emotional walls to protect myself from being hurt or appearing weak. But as I embraced vulnerability, I started letting people into my story. I had open conversations with friends about trauma, fear, faith, and mental health. I found freedom in saying, “I’m not okay today,” and not being judged for it. That same honesty has deepened my relationships in ways I never thought possible. We’re not meant to carry things alone. I’ve learned that community is part of God’s design for healing. One of the biggest blessings to come out of this journey is the ministry I help lead called Evolve Whitewater. It’s a faith-based community on our campus where students gather every Wednesday night for worship, a message, prayer, and small group discussion. We’ve created a space where students can bring their real struggles to a real God and leave encouraged, not condemned. We talk openly about mental health, faith, identity, and purpose. I also co-lead a group called Men’s Tru Talks—a safe space for men to be vulnerable, share their stories, and heal together. These moments remind me how powerful it is when people realize they aren’t alone. My experiences with mental health have changed the direction of my life. I came to college to be a football player. I’m leaving with a mission to be a counselor, mentor, and voice of hope for others who are struggling silently. I’m now pursuing a degree in Social Work because I want to walk with people through their pain, help them break generational cycles, and point them toward healing. I especially want to serve Black men and underserved communities, where mental health is still often stigmatized and misunderstood. My goal is to open a faith-based mental health practice where people can receive professional counseling in a spiritually grounded environment. I want to be the kind of person I needed in my darkest moments—a steady presence, a safe space, someone who says, “You matter, and you’re not crazy for feeling what you feel.” I also want to advocate for more representation and accessibility in the field of mental health so that young people of color can see therapists who look like them, understand them, and speak their language. I’ve watched students suffer in silence because they were too afraid to ask for help. That’s why this mission is personal. If I can play even a small part in helping someone choose life, choose healing, and choose to stay—then everything I’ve gone through will be worth it. Mental health is not a one-time battle—it’s a lifelong journey. But I believe God walks with us every step of the way. He uses people, conversations, therapy, Scripture, and even moments of deep silence to speak truth to our souls. My faith has been the anchor that held me when everything else was falling apart. So yes—mental health has impacted my beliefs, relationships, and career path. But more than that, it has awakened my purpose. I am here to be a light for those walking through darkness, a voice for the voiceless, and a reminder that no matter how bad things may feel, hope is real—and help is possible.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a proud Black, adopted college student and a Social Work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. My journey with mental health hasn’t just impacted my life—it has shaped the person I’ve become, the purpose I live for, and the vision I have for the future. What once felt like my greatest weakness has now become the cornerstone of my calling. I believe in bringing the darkness to light—because I lived in it for too long. Growing up, I was never taught how to talk about mental health. Especially as a young man, there’s an unspoken expectation to “be strong,” to “man up,” and to keep it all together. Emotions were seen as weaknesses, and we were taught to suppress them, not process them. Even within my own home, I didn’t have the tools or language to describe the inner pain I carried. So, like many others, I became good at hiding. I wore a smile while silently suffering. When I got to college, I thought football would be my anchor. It gave me structure, identity, and a sense of belonging. But after back-to-back surgeries, my athletic career was suddenly over. Everything I thought defined me—my role, my outlet, my purpose—was gone. That’s when the depression hit hardest. I felt like I had nothing to offer the world anymore. The anxiety of not knowing who I was outside of the sport consumed me. There were nights I cried alone in my dorm room, wondering who I would be without my sport. It was during this season of darkness that my faith became more than just a belief—it became my lifeline. One night, overwhelmed and broken, I cried out to God asking if He still had a purpose for me. And in that moment, I felt Him speak to my heart: “You are more than what you do—you are Mine.” That truth changed everything. I found strength not in pretending to be okay, but in surrendering to the One who sees me completely. One verse that carried me through is 2 Corinthians 12:9: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” That scripture gave me permission to stop striving and start healing. It showed me that I didn’t need to have it all together for God to work in my life. In fact, it was in my brokenness that He began building something new. Through counseling, prayer, and intentional community, I began to heal. But I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself. I started opening up to others, sharing my story in hopes that someone else would feel less alone. That led to co-founding Evolve Whitewater, a college campus ministry created to help students encounter Jesus, find healing, and walk in their true identity. I serve as an outreach leader and help run a space called Men’s Tru Talks—a safe space for young men to be vulnerable, talk about mental health, identity, relationships, trauma, and most importantly, faith. We don’t wear masks in that room—we show up fully, because real freedom comes through real honesty. My experience with mental health has reshaped my beliefs, especially around what it means to be strong. I no longer see strength as pretending I’m okay—I see it as asking for help, seeking healing, and showing up authentically. My relationships have grown deeper because I now lead with vulnerability. I check in on my people. I listen without rushing to fix. I’ve learned that sometimes the most powerful thing we can say to someone is: “Me too. I’ve been there.” This journey has also shaped my aspirations. I’m majoring in Social Work because I want to become a licensed therapist and open a practice that merges faith, cultural understanding, and emotional wellness. I want to create spaces for young Black men to talk, cry, heal, and be reminded that they are not alone. I want to break the generational silence around mental health in our community. I want to carry the torch that people like Ethel Hayes and her family have lit—turning tragedy into transformation by starting honest conversations and providing hope for others. I’ve seen the silent battles that too many people fight. I’ve also experienced firsthand the healing that happens when we shine light into dark places. My story isn’t over—and neither is anyone else’s. If someone had told me during my darkest nights that one day I’d be leading others, sharing my testimony, and studying to become a therapist, I wouldn’t have believed them. But that’s the beauty of healing: it doesn’t erase the pain, but it gives it purpose. And I believe God is using me to make a difference. Mental health shaped my beliefs. It redefined my relationships. It gave me a vision rooted not in perfection, but in purpose. I want to be a part of the movement that destigmatizes mental health in our schools, churches, families, and communities. I want to be a bridge—for the ones still suffering in silence—to remind them that the darkness can fade. Healing is possible. You are not alone. And you are still here for a reason.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a Black, adopted college student, a former athlete, a campus ministry leader, and a social work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. What I want to build is more than a career or a title—I want to build safe spaces where young men, especially young Black men, can find healing, identity, and purpose. For most of my life, I found identity in football. It was my outlet, my confidence, and my structure. But after enduring two hip surgeries, my athletic career came to an end. I was lost. I didn’t know who I was outside of my jersey. I struggled silently with anxiety, body image, and feelings of failure. I believed I had to stay strong, to “man up,” to hold it all in. Vulnerability wasn’t something that was modeled for me—it felt weak. But when I met God, everything changed. I learned that healing comes through honesty, and that leadership is about service, not status. In 2024, I co-founded Evolve Whitewater, a faith-based student organization focused on spiritual transformation and authentic community. Through this ministry, I began creating the very spaces I once longed for. One of those spaces is Men’s Tru Talks—a weekly group where men come together to talk about real-life struggles: mental health, identity, relationships, and faith. We pray, we cry, and we encourage one another. It’s raw, real, and life-giving. We are redefining what masculinity looks like in a culture that often tells us to suppress emotion. Another major event I helped create is Kingdom Call—a positive alternative to the Spring Splash party weekend. Instead of preaching against the culture, we met students where they were. We offered live worship, free food, and a place to belong. Dozens of students showed up, some of them attending church for the first time. That night showed me the power of building environments that feel like home. I’m currently pursuing a degree in social work to continue this mission beyond college. I plan to work in schools, group homes, or youth centers—any place where young people feel forgotten. I want to create safe spaces in the same way I do now: places where people are not judged, but seen, valued, and known. Receiving this scholarship would help me keep building—not just my education, but a future full of purpose. I’m not just trying to earn a degree; I’m building a foundation that allows others to rise. Whether it’s a one-on-one conversation or a community event, I want to leave people better than I found them. I want to be a builder of hope, healing, and heart. Because I know now that some of the strongest structures are built in the broken places—and I’m committed to rebuilding what the world told us we had to hide.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a Black, adopted college student, a former athlete, a campus ministry leader, and a social work major at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater. For much of my life, my identity was rooted in sports. As a young man growing up without consistent guidance or a deep spiritual foundation, football became my everything. It gave me purpose, structure, and confidence. I poured my entire life into the dream of going pro. But when I got to college, everything I thought defined me began to fall apart. For the first time, I wasn’t the best athlete in the room. I wasn’t the most impressive. That shook me. Anxiety crept in—silently at first, then louder each day. I started to struggle with performance anxiety, self-worth, and body image. I believed I needed to look and weigh a certain way to be “enough.” I would eat when I wasn’t hungry, push my body past its limits, and still feel like I wasn’t doing enough. I smiled on the outside, but inside I was drowning. Pride kept me from reaching out. As a young Black man, I thought I had to be strong, silent, and steady. Vulnerability felt like weakness—until everything came crashing down. In 2025, I had to undergo two hip surgeries that ended my football career. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t an athlete. I wasn’t who I thought I was. And that’s when I found something far greater: I found God. I found purpose. I found who I truly am. That same year, I co-founded Evolve Whitewater, an all-volunteer campus ministry with one mission: to answer the cry of Whitewater for a true encounter with God. We started with just six students, but our message caught fire. Today, we have over 20 committed leaders serving the campus and surrounding community through outreach, prayer, and relationship-building. As the Men’s Outreach Leader, I’ve helped shape this ministry into more than just a place of worship—it’s a place of healing. One of the most important spaces I lead is Men’s Tru Talks. Every week, we create a safe, judgment-free space where young men can come together to talk about real things: anxiety, fatherlessness, identity, trauma, and faith. These are the conversations I needed as a kid but never had access to. Being adopted and navigating life without that emotional grounding left a void in me for years. Tru Talks gives men the freedom to be honest, to cry, to be prayed over, and to leave lighter than they came. I also created Kingdom Call, an outreach event that runs during Spring Splash, the largest college party in Whitewater. Instead of joining the chaos, we provide an uplifting, alcohol-free space where students can gather for food, worship, community, and conversation. We meet people where they are, without judgment, and offer something deeper—a connection to faith, love, and a community that truly cares. Leadership through service means putting others before yourself, not for recognition, but because every person matters. It means leading with empathy, integrity, and compassion. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being present. I am pursuing a degree in social work because I want to dedicate my life to helping people heal—especially young Black men who feel like they have to carry the world in silence. I’ve been there. Now, I want to be the person I once needed. This scholarship would support not just my education, but my mission: to build safe spaces, empower the unseen, and lead with love wherever I go.

Leadership is a word I often heard growing up, but it wasn’t until my college years at the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater that I truly understood what it meant. Through athletics, ministry, and campus leadership, I’ve come to see that real leadership isn’t about being in charge—it’s about serving others. Servant leadership, rooted in faith, compassion, and purpose, has become the foundation of who I am and the life I hope to lead. My name is Bryson Clarson. I am an adopted African American Christian, currently in my junior year at UW-Whitewater majoring in Social Work. I’ve played college football here for the past three years and am now taking a year off due to an upcoming hip surgery. Despite this setback, I continue to be shaped by the lessons sports have taught me—resilience, discipline, and teamwork. Growing up, I wasn’t the most naturally gifted athlete, but my mother encouraged my brother and me to give our all. I played soccer, basketball, wrestling, track, and football, which helped me connect with people from all walks of life and develop a strong work ethic. Athletics have never just been about competition for me—they’ve been a way to serve. Whether I’m encouraging a teammate, thanking the staff who support us, or leading by example, I strive to use my platform to uplift others. I view sports as a form of worship, where faith meets action. My goal isn’t to seek the spotlight, but to be a light—pointing others to purpose through how I carry myself. Beyond the field, I’ve served as a Resident Assistant and the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, a campus ministry focused on spiritual growth and authentic community. These roles have taught me how to lead with empathy, clarity, and consistency. As an RA, I’ve learned the value of presence—being a calm, supportive force during both crises and everyday challenges. As a ministry leader, I’ve helped create spaces where students, especially men, feel seen, encouraged, and empowered to grow. One of the most transformative experiences I’ve had recently was working at a group home. As someone who was adopted, I know firsthand how fragile and precious life can be. Serving vulnerable individuals reminded me that leadership means listening, showing up, and giving without expecting anything in return. These moments confirmed my desire to pursue Social Work and be a consistent, compassionate presence for those in need. The values that guide me most are faith, hope, and love. Faith gives me direction; hope fuels my perspective through adversity; and love challenges me to give daily—whether it’s a smile, a listening ear, or encouragement. A quote I try to live by is “Love gives,” and I carry that mindset into every role and relationship. My goal is to continue using my story, faith, and education to make a lasting impact. I want to build a legacy rooted in service—one that inspires others to become the best version of themselves. Whether on the field, in the classroom, or in the community, I aim to live a life marked by integrity, purpose, and servant leadership.

I am pursuing a degree in Social Work because I believe God has called me to be a vessel of healing, restoration, and advocacy for those navigating the heavy realities of mental health challenges. As an adopted African American male, I’ve seen how mental health struggles can quietly affect individuals from all walks of life—including those in my own family and community. This has shaped my heart for people and fueled my desire to create safe spaces where they feel seen, heard, and supported. Growing up, my mother taught my brother and me the value of hard work, discipline, and compassion. She raised us with faith as our foundation and service as our purpose. From a young age, I found connection and discipline through sports, participating in soccer, basketball, wrestling, and football. Though I was rarely the most talented on any team, my willingness to work hard and encourage others helped me earn respect on and off the field. These early experiences shaped my leadership style and taught me the value of empathy, perseverance, and unity—qualities that directly influence my calling to the mental health field. As a student at UW-Whitewater, I’ve had the opportunity to grow in my leadership and deepen my commitment to serving others through roles like being a Resident Assistant, a member of the football team, and the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, our campus ministry. In each of these roles, I’ve come face-to-face with the mental and emotional battles students are facing—loneliness, anxiety, grief, pressure to perform, identity struggles, and more. I’ve learned that leadership is not just about presence or position—it’s about intentionality. It's about checking in on someone even when you're exhausted, listening when no one else will, and praying for people when they feel too hopeless to pray for themselves. One of the most transformative experiences I’ve had was working at a group home this past summer. Serving youth and adults with complex behavioral and emotional needs was eye-opening. I didn’t just show up to clock in—I showed up to be a consistent presence in their lives. Some days were tough, but those challenges taught me that people don’t just need solutions—they need compassion, consistency, and someone who genuinely cares. That’s when I realized: this is my purpose. I want to dedicate my life to walking with people through their darkest moments and helping them find hope again. My faith is central to everything I do. The values of faith, hope, and love shape how I serve others. Faith keeps me grounded. Hope helps me remain positive in adversity. Love compels me to give—whether it's my time, my ear, or my energy. One quote I live by is “Love gives.” I want my life to reflect that—whether I’m on the football field, in a residence hall, at church, or in a clinical setting. My goal is not just to become a licensed social worker but to be someone who breaks generational cycles, brings healing to families, and helps others rediscover their worth and identity. Mental health matters. And I believe God uses people—people like me—to remind others that they are not alone, that their life has value, and that healing is possible. I am committed to using my education, life experience, and faith to serve others with humility, integrity, and a relentless love. I don’t want to just make a difference—I want to be the difference.

"Peace" is a word often spoken in our world, but do we truly understand its meaning? One of its common definitions is the absence of war. While this may seem simple, we must ask: has humanity ever truly experienced peace? Can peace be more than just the end of conflict, or is there something deeper? I believe true world peace goes far beyond the lack of violence. It includes harmony, understanding, and unity across borders—political, cultural, and personal. While it may feel idealistic, I believe peace is something we can build, one small step at a time. For me, peace begins within. In my own life, I’ve experienced seasons where I longed for peace. I didn’t grow up in a religious household, and for a long time, faith wasn’t a part of my identity. During my teenage years, I felt disconnected—unsure of who I was or where I belonged. It was a time marked by confusion and inner conflict, a personal battlefield that no one else could see. But during college, something shifted. I encountered people and experiences that introduced me to a faith I didn’t know I was missing. A seed was planted in my heart. That seed didn’t grow overnight—it needed time, patience, and care. Over time, that small beginning blossomed into a strong, deeply rooted faith. It brought me a kind of peace I had never known before—not a peace that ignored hardship, but one that gave me strength in the midst of it. This journey taught me that peace, like faith, starts small. It’s not about changing the whole world in one day. It’s about how we treat people: how we listen, how we show compassion, and how we choose to love. Acts like holding the door for someone, offering a smile, or giving a word of encouragement may seem minor, but they create ripples of peace. I’ve seen how these small acts can bring hope. In moments of stress or sorrow, I’ve felt peace through the kindness of others. Sometimes, it’s not a grand gesture that matters—it’s the quiet moment when someone truly sees you, listens to you, and reminds you that you’re not alone. Those moments are sacred. The world today is full of tension—political division, climate change, economic hardship. It’s easy to feel helpless. But we are not powerless. We each have a role to play in building peace. By choosing to be kind, by listening to understand rather than argue, and by honoring one another’s humanity, we create the kind of world we want to live in. Peace, like a plant, needs to be watered daily through our actions and attitudes. It grows when we choose love over hate, grace over judgment, and unity over division. We may not see world peace fully realized in our lifetime, but we are called to plant seeds now. To me, world peace isn’t some unreachable dream. It’s a reality we can move toward when we each decide to be peacemakers. By beginning with ourselves—our hearts, our actions, and our communities—we can build something lasting. Peace starts small, but it grows strong.

Jesus Christ has transformed my life and will continue to until the day I die. He has become my first love and has renewed every aspect of my life. I find joy in my relationship with Him every day and strive to make a Christlike impact on people wherever I go. I accepted Christ in college, though I faced many struggles before that. My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a 21-year-old Christian Black man, adopted as an infant when I was only a few months old. My parents adopted both me and my brother from the same family. Growing up in a transracial adoptive family shaped my understanding of identity, belonging, and the importance of love. As a child, we attended church, which I approached reluctantly, never with the best intentions. I didn’t understand what it meant to “accept Christ,” nor did I realize I could have a genuine relationship with Him. I encountered God in college during my freshman year, which changed my life. I attend the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and have played football here for the past three years. Before discovering my faith, football was my idol—my identity and self-worth were tied to my performance on the field. College football tested me; it brought anxiety, stress, and doubt into my life. Struggling with idolizing football, I learned to place God at the center of my life, trusting Him with my future. Faith met me at a time when I felt empty despite external success, revealing that my worth isn’t defined by achievements but by who I am in Christ. After being around Christ-centered people during the first half of my freshman year, my heart changed, prompting me to pursue my own individual relationship with Jesus. This was when He began to transform me. Instead of seeking my purpose in a sport, I began to find it in Him. When I returned to school for my second semester that year, I prioritized God through church, mission trips, and Christ-centered friendships. This led me to a life filled with newfound joy and fulfillment. God found me that year, and since then, I have been able to make a Christlike impact in various ways. I’ve led team prayers and Bible studies on the football team with some of my best friends. I am also a resident assistant in the dorms, where I serve those in need. In 2024, I became a founding member of Evolve Whitewater, a branch of Evolve Church, a campus ministry at my university. I serve as the Men’s Outreach Leader. In this role, I am passionate about mentoring other young men, helping them discover their worth beyond worldly measures. I hope to inspire others to lean on faith during their darkest moments, just as it helped me rise above my struggles. In my pursuit of education, I welcome the opportunity to serve others wherever God calls me. I am working on my bachelor's degree in social work while also pursuing a minor in coaching and creative writing. I envision my future as a vessel for God’s love, whether through social work, coaching, or writing. Faith will guide me to lead with compassion and humility, ensuring I approach every individual I help with kindness and understanding. Through every test comes a testimony, and God has taught me this throughout my journey. I will hold my relationship with Him tightly for the rest of my life. I’ve come this far only because of Him.

“Leadership” is a word often heard, but its true application is a fruit that is rarely enjoyed. Growing up, some might have called me a leader. I was involved in school and sports, eager to learn, and active in the classroom. On paper, I looked like a leader—but not in my heart. It wasn’t until college that I discovered the true meaning of leadership: Servant Leadership. This concept shifts the focus outward—placing others' needs above personal ambition. A servant leader uplifts those around them, helping others thrive in their unique gifts. When leaders demonstrate humility and prioritize their team's well-being, everyone benefits. It’s not about authority—it’s about being present, encouraging, and creating environments where people grow. My journey into leadership wasn’t conventional. I was adopted, and early on, I wrestled with questions about identity, family, and purpose. That uncertainty slowly evolved into something greater: a desire to uplift others—especially those who feel unseen or unheard—just as I once did. As a student at UW-Whitewater, I’ve held several leadership roles that have shaped who I am. I’ve been a King Chavez Student Scholar, a football player, a Resident Assistant, and the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, a campus ministry. I’ve been involved in seven different organizations throughout college—each one contributing to my personal and leadership development. Football taught me the value of hard work, perseverance, and teamwork. But when I was injured last semester and couldn’t play, I learned an even more valuable lesson: leadership doesn’t stop when the spotlight fades. I supported my teammates from the sidelines, proving that encouragement can be just as powerful as performance. As a Resident Assistant, I’ve been placed in high-pressure situations—from handling crises to submitting work orders. This role has strengthened my ability to lead with a clear mind and calm spirit. In the unpredictable ocean of college life, my goal has been to serve as an anchor—someone residents can rely on for guidance and support. Through Evolve Whitewater, I’ve been able to pursue my passion for ministry and community-building. As the Men’s Outreach Leader, I’ve co-led intentional events that encourage connection, healing, and growth. I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it is when people are given the space to be seen, heard, and challenged. Looking forward, my dreams are rooted in purpose. I want to graduate, become a husband, father, and teacher. But more than achieving titles or milestones, I want to live a life of impact. My dream is to be a leader who doesn’t just talk about change—but lives it. A man of character and faith who helps guide the next generation of students, athletes, and dreamers. I’m passionate about fulfilling these dreams because I know the power of redemption and second chances. My life is a testimony to the beauty of building something lasting out of broken pieces. I want my story to remind others that their past does not define their future—and that leadership can be as simple and sacred as showing up for someone else. This past summer, I worked at a group home—an experience that transformed my understanding of leadership even more. I saw how compassion, patience, and presence can change lives. It reminded me that leadership is less about being in charge and more about being available. And if I can continue to be present for others, then maybe I can be a part of someone else’s answer to the same question I once asked: Why am I here?

As a child, I wanted to be an NFL player. My high school football career took off from a young age. I dreamed of the lifestyles that NFL players had. I wanted to have influence like them, make a positive impact, and be known for greatness. This childhood dream has changed my life in more ways than I could ever know. Football has been a part of my life for almost eight years now. From this sport, I've built community, had mentors, and made friends that will last a lifetime. Through this sport, I learned discipline, consistency, and perseverance when adversity hits. To be honest, this dream has had a profound impact on me and has shaped my life to this day. In high school, I would put in extra effort and go the extra mile just to excel in my sport. I was successful and continued to pursue football during my college career. However, in my freshman year of college, the sport didn't fulfill me as I had hoped. I was in a room full of athletes, and for the first time I wasn’t seen as the “best”. That leads to insecurity and doubt. It was in that season that I found my faith. My relationship with God has now become the driving force of my life. As I have grown through my time in college, I have recognized that I was once solely focused on my sport, which left me feeling unfulfilled. Sports are often spaces where performance is an idol and perfection is not met. When I began to pursue a genuine relationship with Jesus in my faith, things started to change for me. My sport became a way to glorify God and worship Him. This shifted my leadership to serve others and not focus on my own success. By combining my faith and my sport, I began to feel more joy in it than I ever had before. Fast forward to this year, my faith is being tested, and I have to undergo surgery on my hips, which has forced me to take a step back from football. However, this step back has been one of the biggest blessings of my life. My career dream now is to be a social worker and help change lives for the better. God shifted my perspective to see how much more He has for me beyond just the sport. Even without football this year, I am heavily involved on campus. I am a leader in a campus ministry, and I have the opportunity to help pour into this generation. My passion for my education has birthed a desire to help children who are in the system. As someone who was adopted at only a few months, I know how important it is to have a safe and loving home. I used to look at my sport as the only way I could ever make an impact on people. But in faith, I've learned that I have the opportunity to do that every day, and I don't need a platform to make an impact. Thank you for taking the time to read my essay. I am sorry that Charles B. Brazelton was unable to live out his childhood dreams. Just looking at his photo makes me smile, and I can see that he was a light to those around him. His death inspires me to pursue my dream daily. My dream now is to make an impact, and this is a dream that I live out every day.

Jesus Christ has transformed my life and will continue to until the day I die. He has become my first love and has renewed every aspect of my life. I find joy in my relationship with Him every day and strive to make a Christlike impact on people wherever I go. I accepted Christ in college, though I faced many struggles before that. My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a 21-year-old Christian Black man, adopted as an infant when I was only a few months old. My parents adopted both me and my brother from the same family. Growing up in a transracial adoptive family shaped my understanding of identity, belonging, and the importance of love. As a child, we attended church, which I approached reluctantly, never with the best intentions. I didn’t understand what it meant to “accept Christ,” nor did I realize I could have a genuine relationship with Him. I encountered God in college during my freshman year, which changed my life. I attend the University of Wisconsin-Whitewater and have played football here for the past three years. Before discovering my faith, football was my idol—my identity and self-worth were tied to my performance on the field. College football tested me; it brought anxiety, stress, and doubt into my life. Struggling with idolizing football, I learned to place God at the center of my life, trusting Him with my future. Faith met me at a time when I felt empty despite external success, revealing that my worth isn’t defined by achievements but by who I am in Christ. After being around Christ-centered people during the first half of my freshman year, my heart changed, prompting me to pursue my own individual relationship with Jesus. This was when He began to transform me. Instead of seeking my purpose in a sport, I began to find it in Him. When I returned to school for my second semester that year, I prioritized God through church, mission trips, and Christ-centered friendships. This led me to a life filled with newfound joy and fulfillment. God found me that year, and since then, I have been able to make a Christlike impact in various ways. I’ve led team prayers and Bible studies on the football team with some of my best friends. I am also a resident assistant in the dorms, where I serve those in need. In 2024, I became a founding member of Evolve Whitewater, a branch of Evolve Church, a campus ministry at my university. I serve as the Men’s Outreach Leader. In this role, I am passionate about mentoring other young men, helping them discover their worth beyond worldly measures. I hope to inspire others to lean on faith during their darkest moments, just as it helped me rise above my struggles. In my pursuit of education, I welcome the opportunity to serve others wherever God calls me. I am working on my bachelor's degree in social work while also pursuing a minor in coaching and creative writing. I envision my future as a vessel for God’s love, whether through social work, coaching, or writing. Faith will guide me to lead with compassion and humility, ensuring I approach every individual I help with kindness and understanding. Through every test comes a testimony, and God has taught me this throughout my journey. I will hold my relationship with Him tightly for the rest of my life. I’ve come this far only because of Him.

Diversity has been ingrained in me since I was an infant. My adoption story began when I was only a few months old. My birth mom was courageous enough to surrender me, a baby boy, into the adoption system. At the time, she had two older children living with her, and my birth father lacked the structure in his life to raise a child. A few months later, I found a home. I was adopted by two loving parents in a small rural town called Richland Center. About 18 months after that, my parents received a call from my birth mother with news of another child on the way. My birth mom asked them if they wanted to adopt again, and without a doubt, they said yes! My baby brother Brenden was quickly adopted into our home. Our family consisted of two young African American boys with two white parents. This unique experience turned out to be the biggest blessing of my life. Being adopted and growing up in this family has tremendously shaped me and my future goals. Growing up, we were very fortunate and had many opportunities in school, sports, and life. Not only this, but my parents maintained an open relationship with my birth family, allowing me to see my birth parents and siblings. It was like I had two families. From the time I was adopted, I always felt like I had a place to call home. My parents displayed unconditional love and unwavering support daily. They have consistently provided for me in all aspects of life. Growing up with my younger brother also gave me a lifelong friend to lean on. How did this impact me personally? Well, it made me who I am today. At times in my life, I struggled to find my identity. I sometimes felt like I was in between both worlds and didn’t know who to be. But these tests in my life became testimonies. I learned what it meant to be myself and live without limits. This environment also taught me to love all types of people. I’ve always had a heart for others, no matter what they look like or where they come from. Because I had been loved so intentionally, I wanted to express the same love to others. I use my talents every day to help and serve those around me. I played football, which allowed me to work with others from diverse backgrounds. I also serve as an RA in the academic halls, which allows me to be a light to those in need. Additionally, I serve in a campus ministry called Evolve Whitewater as a Men’s outreach leader. This role has blessed me with the opportunity to create a loving environment for many other people. I am currently attending the University of Wisconsin Whitewater, where I am pursuing a bachelor’s degree in social work and a minor in coaching. I want to be able to make a difference in the lives of others. This past summer, I served at a group home with troubled teen boys, where I received the opportunity to do that. I thank God for my experiences growing up. If they had been anything different, I wouldn’t be able to make the impact I do today. I am highly passionate about giving back to others because so many have given to me. I was given a new life, home, and opportunities that I could shape my dreams for the future. My parents did good when they adopted me, now I plan to good for the generations that come after me.

My name is Bryson Clarson. I am a Christian, adopted African American, currently attending the University of Wisconsin Whitewater. This is my junior year, and I have played football for the past three years. I have also served on a ministry called Evolve Whitewater and as a Resident Assistant in the academic halls. I am pursuing a degree in Social Work because I seek to serve and impact other people. I wanted to give you this context because sports have influenced all aspects of my life, including these. From the time I was young, my mother encouraged my brother and I to participate in a variety of sports. In my youth, I played soccer, basketball, wrestling, track, and football. The variety of different sports allowed me to connect with all types of people and grow in many skills. In high school, I primarily focused on football and track, where I competed in hurdles. Growing up, I was never the most talented in any specific sport. Because I was never overly talented this helped to develop the strong work ethic I carry with me today. I did not cut corners and had to undergo the process from the bottom up in each sport I participated in. I have been blessed to compete and have success at the college football level here at Whitewater. Here my faith has transformed my athletic journey pushing me to serve others daily and make a positive impact consistently I have been shaped in an abundant amount of ways through athletics. The values that have shaped me the most are Faith, Hope, and Love. I strive to walk daily in my faith and allow it to inspire others. This is done through not wavering in hard circumstances and letting my sport be a way of worship to glorify God. Rather than selfishly seeking all the credit or idolizing my own performance. Hope, this is something that shines like a light in adversity. If you asked my teammates they would tell you how positive my perspective is in almost everything. I strive for this and it is an attitude that is very contagious. One quote I seek to live by is “Love gives.” Every day I seek to find what I can give to others, that may be a smile, a word of encouragement, or a listening ear. Love has shaped my leadership as well, it has taught me to be a servant leader. Servant leadership shown through my athletics has tremendously impacted all areas of my life. Through sports, I receive the opportunity to serve others almost daily. No matter their position I seek to value them and make an impact. I strive to reach coaches, players, janitors, fans, and our equipment staff. When we add value to others everybody benefits. I am taking a year off from football right now due to an upcoming hip surgery. But the positive effects of sports continue to still shape me daily. I am zealous towards my education, ministry, and serving as an RA. Each one of these roles has been influenced by my athletic career. I have a high ambition and know my life is meant to impact others. This drives me daily to be the best version of myself and encourage others to do the same. I am forever grateful for the opportunity I have had to participate in athletics. The lessons learned and the relationships made will last me a lifetime.

From a young age, I have felt a deep calling to help others see their worth and reach their fullest potential. This calling led me to pursue a degree in Social Work, with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing, as I aspire to be a guiding force for children navigating life’s complexities. My ultimate goal is to work closely with youth, including gifted children, to support not only their intellectual growth but also their social-emotional well-being. Gifted children often face unique challenges—perfectionism, heightened sensitivity, or feeling isolated from peers—and I am committed to creating an environment where they feel seen, valued, and empowered. Gifted children possess incredible intellectual capabilities, yet their emotional needs can sometimes be overlooked. I believe nurturing their social-emotional development is just as crucial as fostering their academic talents. As a future social worker and mentor, my goal is to help gifted children embrace their individuality, manage the pressures that can accompany their abilities, and develop resilience. Through personalized guidance and compassionate support, I want to help them navigate complex emotions, build confidence, and cultivate healthy relationships. My background in social work equips me with the tools to understand and address the mental health needs of children. By working in schools or specialized programs for gifted youth, I can provide one-on-one counseling, lead group discussions on emotional intelligence, and collaborate with educators to develop strategies for holistic student development. I want to implement social-emotional learning (SEL) practices that teach gifted children how to cope with stress, build empathy, and express themselves authentically. For example, mindfulness exercises, reflective journaling, and peer support groups could help them process emotions and feel connected to others. Additionally, my minor in Creative Writing will allow me to encourage self-expression in gifted children through storytelling, poetry, and art. Creative outlets can be a powerful tool for children to explore their emotions, articulate their thoughts, and develop a sense of self. I envision creating writing workshops or art therapy sessions where gifted students can channel their creativity, share their inner worlds, and feel validated in their experiences. These forms of expression can be especially beneficial for children who may struggle to verbalize their feelings or who feel misunderstood by their peers. I also recognize the importance of challenging gifted children intellectually while supporting their emotional well-being. My coaching background will help me inspire perseverance, healthy goal-setting, and a growth mindset. Gifted children can sometimes tie their identity to their achievements, leading to fear of failure or burnout. I want to help them understand that their worth is not defined by their accomplishments, but by who they are as individuals. Through mentoring and coaching, I can guide them to set realistic goals, celebrate progress over perfection, and view setbacks as opportunities for growth. To bring this vision to life, I plan to gain hands-on experience through internships with youth-focused organizations, attend conferences on gifted education, and seek out professional development in SEL practices. I also aim to collaborate with psychologists, educators, and parents to ensure a well-rounded approach to supporting gifted children. Financial support from this scholarship would allow me to focus on these opportunities, immersing myself in the learning experiences necessary to become the best advocate and mentor I can be. Every child deserves to feel understood, supported, and inspired to reach their full potential. My career goals are rooted in the belief that nurturing a child’s emotional well-being is just as important as developing their intellect. With dedication, empathy, and the right resources, I am committed to helping gifted children thrive—academically, emotionally, and personally. This scholarship would be a vital step in allowing me to pursue this mission, and I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my passion and vision.

Since I was young, I have set high goals for myself in education, understanding that learning is not just about earning a degree but about transforming lives—both my own and those around me. I am currently pursuing a major in Social Work, with minors in Coaching and Creative Writing, each chosen to shape me into the kind of person who can serve others wholeheartedly. My passion for education extends beyond the classroom; I have always been captivated by the opportunities school provides to grow, lead, and make a difference. This passion has driven my decision to pursue a career in social work, where I can be a beacon of hope for at-risk youth and underserved communities. My ultimate goal is not just to become a social worker but to be a mentor, an advocate, and a voice for those who feel unheard. I want to walk alongside young people facing adversity, helping them discover their worth and potential. Social work is not just a career for me—it is my calling. I envision myself working in youth advocacy and trauma intervention, creating safe spaces for children and teenagers to heal and thrive. But achieving this dream requires careful planning, dedication, and access to resources that will equip me for the challenges ahead. Academically, I am committed to maximizing my education. I sit in the front row of my classes, ask questions, and build meaningful relationships with professors, knowing that every interaction is an opportunity to grow. My degree program, combined with my minors, provides me with the knowledge and skills necessary to be effective in my field. The next step in my plan involves completing my degree, engaging in internships, and eventually earning my social work license. These steps come with financial demands—tuition, exam fees, transportation for internships, and essential materials for coursework. The weight of these expenses can be overwhelming, but receiving this scholarship would lift that burden and allow me to immerse myself in my education and hands-on learning experiences. Beyond the classroom, I am actively involved in volunteer work and campus ministry, where I lead and serve my peers. These experiences have taught me the importance of showing up for people, even when it’s inconvenient or difficult. I’ve learned that true leadership isn’t about titles but about sacrifice and love. Every hour spent mentoring students or organizing community outreach events strengthens my resolve to pursue a life of service. In the coming years, I plan to intern with nonprofits, foster care organizations, or crisis intervention centers to gain real-world experience working with vulnerable populations. These experiences will shape me into a more empathetic and effective social worker. Financially, I have carefully budgeted for the years ahead, accounting for tuition, living expenses, internship travel, and licensing fees. While I work and apply for additional scholarships, covering all these costs remains a challenge. This scholarship would not only provide financial relief but also allow me to say yes to opportunities that will enrich my education and deepen my understanding of the communities I want to serve. I believe every person deserves to be seen, loved, and supported. With the help of this scholarship, I can continue walking the path toward making that belief a reality. I am ready to devote my life to lifting others up, breaking cycles of hardship, and inspiring hope where it’s needed most. Education is a gift that no one can take away, and with your support, I can use mine to create lasting change. Thank you for considering my application and for believing in the power of dreams fueled by purpose.

As a co-founder of Evolve Whitewater and the Men’s Outreach Leader, I have witnessed firsthand how faith can transform lives, including my own, especially in times of challenge. One pivotal moment where I relied heavily on my faith occurred during the early stages of establishing Evolve Whitewater. The journey to create a faith-based community at UW-Whitewater was challenging, and at times, the obstacles seemed insurmountable. However, through prayer, trust in God, and guidance from Scripture, I found the strength to keep moving forward. Evolve Whitewater was born out of a vision to create a safe, faith-filled space where college students could worship, grow in their relationship with God, and build a supportive community. As a senior balancing multiple roles—being a student, an RA, and a core leader at the ministry—I was faced with several doubts. Would students actually attend? Could I lead such a significant endeavor? Was my faith strong enough? During a season of uncertainty, I turned to prayer for guidance. I remember one particular evening when the weight of my responsibilities felt overwhelming, and I was on the verge of burnout. That night, I asked God for clarity and direction. I felt the Holy Spirit lead me to Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” This verse reminded me that I wasn’t relying on my own strength but on God’s power to navigate this journey. I was reassured that God had placed this mission on my heart for a reason and would provide the wisdom I needed. In the weeks that followed, I surrendered my challenges to God, praying daily for guidance in leadership and strength to continue. Slowly but surely, things began to fall into place. We secured a regular meeting space in Hyland Hall, and students began attending our sessions. One by one, people joined the community, sharing their stories and growing in faith. The sense of purpose and fulfillment I felt in witnessing lives transformed confirmed that this was all part of God’s plan. Throughout this process, I learned the importance of leaning on my faith not only during personal struggles but also as a guiding force in leadership. Being the Men’s Outreach Leader allowed me to support and mentor students, helping them navigate their own challenges through faith. It reinforced the understanding that the foundation of any ministry or leadership role must be rooted in prayer, trust in God’s timing, and reliance on His power. Faith became more than just a belief—it became the tool that helped me navigate life and leadership. In conclusion, the creation and growth of Evolve Whitewater is a testimony to the power of faith in overcoming challenges. It serves as a reminder that even when obstacles seem insurmountable, God’s strength and guidance will carry us through. The experience deepened my belief that with faith in God, we can overcome anything. Through Evolve Whitewater, I have seen faith in action, and I continue to rely on that same faith to lead with courage, compassion, and perseverance.

Mental health has shaped my life in ways I never anticipated. Through my experiences and those of people close to me, I’ve come to understand the profound impact mental health challenges have on individuals, relationships, and communities. These experiences have fueled my passion for advocacy, mentorship, and support. Pursuing a degree in Social Work with a minor in Coaching is not just a career path for me—it’s a calling to make a meaningful difference in the lives of others. Mental health is often overlooked or stigmatized, leaving many to suffer in silence. I’ve seen how untreated struggles can diminish self-worth, motivation, and relationships. These experiences have taught me that empathy, patience, and open conversations are essential to breaking the stigma. I believe mental health care should be accessible and integrated into daily life. My journey has reinforced that everyone deserves a support system, regardless of background or circumstances. This belief has driven me to support others through mentorship, leadership roles, and community involvement. As a Resident Assistant and Group Home Assistant, I’ve worked closely with individuals facing personal challenges, providing them with a safe space to be heard. These experiences have strengthened my ability to listen without judgment, offer encouragement, and guide others toward helpful resources. As the Men’s Outreach Leader for Evolve Whitewater, I’ve helped young men navigate personal and spiritual growth. Many of these conversations touch on mental health, self-doubt, and resilience, and I’ve seen how powerful it can be when someone feels seen and valued. These roles have reinforced my passion for mentorship, advocacy, and direct support. My goal is to work with youth, student-athletes, and underserved communities, ensuring they have the resources, support, and encouragement to succeed. As a student-athlete myself, I understand the pressure and stress that come with balancing academics, athletics, and personal life. Many athletes hesitate to seek help due to stigma or fear of judgment. I want to change that by creating safe spaces for open dialogue, advocating for mental health resources, and equipping individuals to navigate challenges. Beyond athletics, I hope to work in schools, community programs, or social service organizations, focusing on mental health support, crisis intervention, and mentorship. Mental health struggles affect people from all walks of life, and many are left without the support they need. Through my work, I want to bridge that gap and be a source of hope for those who feel isolated. While I’m committed to my education and career, financial challenges make it difficult to focus fully on my studies. I currently work multiple jobs to support myself and cover my education costs while balancing academics, athletics, and leadership. Receiving this scholarship would alleviate financial stress, allowing me to dedicate more time to learning and making an impact in social work. This scholarship represents an investment in my mission to serve others, uplift communities, and advocate for mental health awareness. With the opportunity to further my education, gain real-world experience, and develop the skills needed to be an effective social worker, I’ll be equipped to make a lasting difference. Mental health has shaped my beliefs, relationships, and aspirations. I’m committed to using my education and experiences to break the stigma and create lasting change. Through social work, I hope to ensure that no one has to struggle alone and that every individual has the opportunity to thrive.