Cancer has not merely impacted my life; it has been the landscape against which my entire life has unfolded. My journey began when I was just 6 months old, when I was too young to consciously remember the original diagnosis. This left an invisible blueprint on my childhood. I have only known a short 7 years of normalcy, when everything was in remission and no doctors appointments and follow-up scans existed. This reality came to a halt when it recurred and metastasized. I was 11 years old, at the end of sixth grade. This time, it became inoperable, the surgeon said it was, "Too widespread to remove without causing brain damage." To be 11-years-old - an age where one is navigating the transition into adolescence and searching for their sense of identity - and learn that the tumor that they once completely removed had recurred with a vengeance; it was inoperable, spreading into the CSF and seeding throughout the spine, which has no cure, is a burden that alters your sense of identity. Navigating major surgeries, recoveries, treatment, and constant follow-up scans and appointments has been a core part of my life. For nearly 20 years since it recurred, I have lived with the physical reality of this chronic illness. I experienced a hard-won reality of 10-years with clinical stability, with follow-ups every 6 months, a decade where I fought to reclaim my narrative, pursue my education, and build a career dedicated to working with children. But the reality of chronic cancer is not entirely static. In 2022, after a breakthrough seizure, a routine MRI showed disease progression, through a cyst putting pressure on my temporal lobe, forcing me to once again confront the operating room and familiar experiences of treatment and uncertainty. The neurological fallout of a brain tumor brings an entirely separate reality to your life; an epilepsy diagnosis, due to the pressure of the tumor. This was a terrifying reality that it brought in 2016, when I experienced a breakthrough seizure while driving to school. I crashed my car into the bridge going over the river. A police officer drove me the rest of the way, as it just so happened to be the day of a biology lab. You were either there that day, or you failed the class. This event marked the beginning of a dark, exhausting chapter that lasted until 2019, during which my seizures became intractable. I was on 6 different medicines at the same time, yet they couldn't be controlled. Living with uncontrolled epilepsy meant existing in a state of hyper-vigilance, never knowing when the next complex partial seizure would occur. In 2019, an intercranial EEG (iEEG) finally revealed the root cause: an immense accumulation of scar tissue from previous brain surgeries was physically pressing directly against my hippocampus, sparking near-constant neurological chaos. The EEG ended up showing subclinical seizures happening every few minutes, while also having multiple clinical seizures a week. The neurological trauma didn't just impact my health; it threatened my lifelong love of learning. Because the tumor and resulting scar tissue were located within the temporal lobe and the hippocampus - the brain's memory center - my academic performance suffered a devastating blow. My epileptologist explained that, "One seizure within this area will wipe your memory of the entire day." Trying to earn a college degree under these conditions felt like trying to build a house on shifting sand. I went from being an honor student from sixth grade through high school, to having to repeat classes. Sitting through classes and studying for hours means nothing when experiencing one seizure would just wipe that knowledge away. This cognitive hurdle severely impacted my GPA during my associate's degree. Fighting through the frustration of a failing memory while trying to navigate the academic system that doesn't understand invisible disabilities was one of the most isolating and exhausting challenges of my life. Yet, I refused to drop out. I adapted and fought my way through it. The most profound test of my clinical and emotional endurance occurred just at the beginning of this year, in February. Ever since 2022, I have found solace and stability on a targeted kinase inhibitor. It was the pharmacological shield that the cancer was responding to, due to the gene mutation fueling it. It kept the tumor at bay and allowed me to live my life as I got my bachelor's degree and continued working within the preschool setting. But in February, routine imaging delivered a devastating blow: the tumor was becoming resistant to the treatment, leading to progression over the past year that they had been monitoring. Once again, I was forced to revisit the operating room for another craniotomy. This time they would remove the tumor, but they'd have to leave the scar tissue next to it, as it was wrapped around the M1 segment of the Middle Cerebral Artery (MCA) and pressed against the brainstem. We later learned that this scar tissue had microscopic cancer cells in it after pausing treatment so the site could heal. The first post-op scan showed rapid progression after a 6-week treatment pause. I was fully prepped to visit the operating room again, 2 months after the last surgery, and start targeted proton radiation treatment. Luckily, those cells left over weren't resistant, as restarting treatment for 2 weeks wiped them out - we found this out at the hospital, 2 hours before I went into the operating room. I've had 15 surgeries; this was the first time a surgeon has personally visited us before a scheduled surgery to say that it was cancelled because the visible tumor was gone. Knowing the reality that those microscopic cells are still there is real. There's also the threat of the scar tissue pressing on critical brain structures. There's the possibility that it could grow and press against the MCA, causing a massive stroke, or press against the brainstem, impeding critical autonomous functions like heart rate and blood pressure, breathing, and airway protection. This is a psychological challenge that's heavier than I've ever faced before. It means that my battle is still ongoing. Yet, even in this shadow of active progression, I've found my perspective to shift from fear to an unshakable purpose. I've realized that my intimate understanding of what it means to be a long-term survivor who lives with active, complex medical boundaries isn't a limitation. It's my greatest clinical asset. I've overcome these systemic, physical, and cognitive challenges by transforming my lifelong challenges into a fierce, outward-facing empathy. Rather than allowing them to isolate me from the world, they drove me straight towards the front lines of advocacy. My grounding was found within the preschool classroom, helping children with their early developmental milestones. Simultaneously, I found a pull to return to the healthcare setting, volunteering in a pediatric hospital and advocacy center. Through these roles, I learned that the child's spirit doesn't disappear behind the walls of the hospital. They possess an innate resilience that must be protected by adults who understand their unique development. My lifelong medical journey has forged my future career. I'm actively preparing to transition from the preschool classroom to the healthcare setting as a child life specialist. I don't view this career pivot as a new direction, but rather a culmination of my personal history and experience. I want to stand at the bedside of pediatric patients, not as a detached clinician reading from a script, but as a professional who truly speaks their language. My background gives me an unparalleled baseline of empathy. Having walked in their shoes, I know the stressors they're experiencing. As a CCLS, I'll utilize interventions tailored to these children understand that they're humans first, and patients second. I'm turning my lifetime of adversity into healing for patients and families.

Currently, my life is dedicated to protecting and educating children across two distinct but deeply connected environments. As an assistant within the preschool setting, I spend my days preparing children for their future, designating age-appropriate activities for them to learn through play. Simultaneously, I volunteer my time at a pediatric hospital and advocacy center. In these roles, I stand on the front lines of trauma response, offering a calm, grounding presence to children and families navigating some of the most stressful days of their lives. By combining these environments, I am able to give back dynamically. My years of classroom experience allows me to bring a deep understanding of normative child development into the high-stress medical environment, helping to normalize the PICU and general units through books, play, and connections. Conversely, my work in trauma advocacy informs my teaching, ensuring my preschool classroom is a deeply trauma-informed, safe haven where children can feel seen secure, and equipped to handle each child's emotions. Looking ahead, my plan to positively impact the world centers on a career transition, from the classroom to the healthcare setting as a child life specialist. While my current role allows me to touch dozens of lives a week, becoming a CCLS will allow me to scale my impact to a clinical level, serving as a vital bridge between complex medical care and a child's psychological safety. I plan to drive long-term, positive change in the following ways: -De-escalating medical trauma: Medical procedures can leave a lasting impact on children. As a CCLS, I will use therapeutic play, preparation, and targeted coping strategies to transform the scary hospital experience into moments of resilience for these young patients. -Advocating for family-centered care: A sick child impacts the entire family. I plan to help parents and siblings by translating cold, complicated medical jargon into the language of development, ensuring families remain active, confident partners in their child's healing process. -Championing trauma-informed systems: Beyond the hospital bedside, I intend to use my background in early childhood education and advocacy to influence hospital cultures. By training medical staff on the nuances of normative child behaviors and stress regression, I can help cultivate inherently gentler, more empathetic healthcare ecosystems, as we transition care into developmentally appropriate interventions for each individual child. Every child deserves to have their childhood preserved, even in the middle of a medical crisis. By dedicating my future career to child life, I aim to ensure that a hospital diagnosis never robs a child of this point in their lives, one they'll never get back.

Living with the long-term effects of pediatric cancer and epilepsy has shaped every aspect of who I am today. While these conditions have presented significant challenges throughout my life, they've also given me a unique perspective, a deep sense of empathy, and a strong commitment to helping others that are facing difficult circumstances. I was originally diagnosed with epilepsy and cancer as a bay. Later, as a pre-teen, I experienced a recurrence with drop metastasis to my spine and CSF, requiring additional treatments while I was in junior high and high school. Since my original diagnosis in 1996, I've had 15 surgeries, 10 years of chemo, hospitalizations, and continued treatment to this day. There was a period of time when the seizures were uncontrolled, with subclinical seizures happening every few minutes, and clinical seizures happening multiple times a week. This significantly affected my memory and ability to retain information, creating obstacles both academically and personally. Growing up with a disability nobody could see meant learning how to adapt to challenges that most of my peers didn't face. While my classmates focused on typical experiences, I was balancing schoolwork with medical appointments, treatment schedules, and uncertainty about my health. I often had to work harder to achieve your average academic outcomes because of the cognitive effects of seizures, medications, and treatment. These experiences taught me persistence, flexibility, and the importance of never giving up. At the same time, this experience gave me a perspective I wouldn't trade. Spending these years as a patient allowed me to witness life inside the hospital setting. Seeing the impact compassionate healthcare professionals have on children and families. I learned that healing involves more than just medical treatment; it also requires emotional support, advocacy, and a human connection. The providers who took time to explain procedures, answer questions, and help me cope with fears during treatment made a lasting impression on me. These experiences directly impacted my career goals. I earned my Associate's degree in Paraprofessional Education and Bachelor's degree in Child development. Now, I've been accepted into Erikson Institute's Master's program in Child Development with a Child Life concentration. My goal is to be a CCLS working in the pediatric hospital setting. I want to help those children facing the same challenges I was, helping them feel informed, supported, and cared for during experiences that can feel scary and overwhelming. My entire life has been spent navigating a serious illness and it continues on to this day. I understand many of the emotions that pediatric patients face during their care. I know the feeling of receiving scans, waiting for test results, undergoing treatment, going into the OR not knowing if you'll come back out alive, and worrying about what comes next. While every patient experience a different journey, mine allows me to connect with children and families because I've been in their shoes. My disability has influenced who I am by teaching me never to give up. It inspired who I choose to be in the future, while also giving me a clear sense of purpose. Rather than allowing my medical challenges to define my limitations, I've chosen to let them shape my commitment to help others. My goal is to use my education and personal experience to improve the healthcare experience for children and families, making sure that none of them feel alone during their medical journey.

One of the most moving pieces in Taylor Swift’s discography for me is “Soon You’ll Get Better,” a song written about her mother’s cancer journey. What makes it especially powerful isn't just its subject matter, but the way it's presented. The performance is intentionally restrained, almost fragile in tone, which reflects the emotional reality of watching someone you love go through a serious illness. Rather than relying on production or dramatic instrumentation, the focus is placed entirely on the vulnerability of the message itself. What stands out most is the emotional honesty embedded in it. It captures the experience of wanting desperately to believe in recovery while also confronting the fear and uncertainty that comes with a life-threatening diagnosis. There's a quiet tension throughout: hope exists, but it's inseparable from worry. That combination of emotions feels human, especially in situations where outcomes are not guaranteed and control is limited. The song doesn't attempt to resolve that tension; instead, it allows it to exist fully. This resonates strongly with my own lived experience. As a child, I was diagnosed with epilepsy and pediatric brain cancer, and later experienced a recurrence with metastasis to my spine and CSF. I spent much of my childhood in and out of the hospital receiving care. These experiences shaped not only my physical health, but also my emotional development and sense of identity during critical educational years. Like the perspective in “Soon You’ll Get Better,” much of my experience involved navigating uncertainty. There were many moments when answers were limited, treatment paths were ongoing, and outcomes couldn't be predicted. During those times, hope and fear coexisted in a very real way. I learned that strength didn't always mean certainty or confidence; it often meant continuing forward even with mixed, unresolved emotions. What also resonates with me is the sense of love and support that underlies the song. Even in the face of illness, there's a clear recognition of the importance of presence, care, and emotional connection. In my experience, some of the most meaningful moments in healthcare were not the procedures or treatments themselves, but the people who took the time to acknowledge how I was feeling. Whether it was a provider explaining something in a calm, understandable way, or someone simply offering reassurance during a difficult moment, those interactions helped make overwhelming environments feel more human. These experiences are a large part of why I am pursuing a career in Child Life. I'm preparing to enter Erikson Institute’s Master’s program in Child Development with a Child Life concentration, to become a Child Life Specialist. I want to support children navigating medical experiences in the same way that compassionate professionals supported me: by helping them understand what's happening, reducing fear through preparation, and creating space for emotional expression during difficult moments. “Soon You’ll Get Better” also reflects the reality that healing isn't always straightforward. It acknowledges that even when people are doing everything possible, uncertainty can remain. That understanding is important in healthcare, especially when working with children and families. It reinforces the idea that support is not only about treatment outcomes, but also about emotional care throughout the process. What makes this piece so meaningful is its ability to translate a personal and painful experience into something that others can feel and relate to. It doesn't simplify illness or resolve its difficulty, but it offers acknowledgment and emotional truth. That same principle guides the kind of impact I hope to make in my future career: helping children and families feel seen, supported, and less alone during some of the most uncertain moments of their lives.

My goal is to become a Certified Child Life Specialist working in a pediatric hospital setting, where I can support children and families navigating hospitalization, chronic illness, and medical trauma. I am especially interested in helping reduce fear and anxiety during procedures, supporting coping through developmentally appropriate education and play, and advocating for the emotional and developmental needs of children as part of their overall medical care. I will begin formally pursuing this goal through the Erikson Institute’s Master’s program in Child Development with a Child Life concentration, starting August 2026. This program will provide the academic foundation I need in areas such as child development theory, medical play, family systems, grief and loss, and therapeutic communication. It is also directly aligned with the Child Life Certification Commission requirements, which makes it an essential step toward becoming certified. A key component of my training will be the embedded practicum experience scheduled for Fall 2027. This practicum will allow me to gain supervised clinical experience in a hospital setting, applying what I learn in real time with pediatric patients and families. I plan to approach this experience with the goal of strengthening my clinical skills, learning from experienced Certified Child Life Specialists, and developing confidence in supporting children across a wide range of ages and medical experiences. In addition to my academic program, I will continue building relevant experience through early childhood education and volunteer work in hospital and advocacy settings. My background in preschool education has helped me develop strong communication skills with young children, understand developmental milestones, and respond to emotional and behavioral needs in a supportive way. My volunteer experience in pediatric hospital and advocacy environments has further strengthened my understanding of how children experience medical settings and how important preparation, comfort positioning, and emotional support are during care. Financial planning is an important part of my pathway. Graduate school will require funding for tuition, fees, books, transportation to clinical sites, and reduced income during practicum periods. Estimated tuition for the program is approximately $48,000–$56,000 total, based on 40 credit hours, not including additional expenses such as textbooks (about $1,000–$2,000 annually) and commuting costs within the Chicago area for practicum placements. Because practicum hours are typically unpaid and limit working capacity, I will need to carefully balance part-time employment with academic and clinical responsibilities. To manage these costs, I plan to combine federal financial aid, scholarships, and part-time work that is flexible enough to accommodate my academic and clinical schedule. I will also continue seeking volunteer opportunities that strengthen my clinical preparation without creating additional financial burden. This layered approach is necessary to ensure that I can remain fully engaged in my training without compromising my ability to complete the program successfully. After graduation, my goal is to obtain a Child Life Specialist position in a pediatric hospital, ideally in the Chicago area where I already have experience and professional connections, including institutions such as Lurie Children’s Hospital, Rush University Children’s Hospital, or Comer Children’s Hospital. These settings would allow me to continue developing my skills while serving diverse patient populations. I have also considered alternative pathways to maintain momentum toward certification, including roles such as Child Life assistant positions, per-diem support roles, or related psychosocial pediatric roles if immediate full-time Child Life positions are not available. Each of these pathways would continue to build relevant experience toward certification eligibility and long-term career stability. Overall, my plan is structured, realistic, and adaptable, combining academic preparation, supervised clinical experience, financial planning, and progressive professional engagement to achieve my long-term goal of becoming a Certified Child Life Specialist.

My goal is to improve the hospital experience for children and families by combining professional Child Life training with my lived experience as a pediatric cancer and epilepsy patient. I want to help create a healthcare environment where a child can feel seen, understood, and supported not only medically, but also emotionally and developmentally. As a child and adolescent, I spent years in and out of hospitals due to cancer and ongoing epilepsy. I experienced firsthand how overwhelming medical procedures can be, especially when a child is trying to make sense of pain, uncertainty, and separation from their normal life. I also experienced how much of a difference it makes when healthcare professionals take the time to explain what is happening in a developmentally appropriate way, offer comfort, and advocate for a child’s emotional needs. Those moments of compassion did not just ease fear in the moment; they shaped how I understand care, dignity, and trust in medical settings. I am especially inspired by Child Life Specialists, nurses, and physicians who treat pediatric patients as a whole person rather than just a labeled diagnosis. The professionals who used preparation, honest communication, play, and calm presence helped me regain a sense of control during some of the most difficult periods of my life. I want to be that same source of stability and understanding for other children facing hospitalization. Through my education at Erikson Institute and continued work in early childhood education and hospital volunteer settings, I am building the clinical knowledge and developmental expertise needed to support children across a wide range of ages and medical experiences. I plan to use this training to advocate for consistent and expanded Child Life services, especially in settings where emotional support is limited or not yet fully integrated into pediatric patient care. I also hope to help ensure that children’s psychological and developmental needs are prioritized alongside their physical treatment, not treated as secondary concerns. In my community, I want to contribute by supporting hospitals and pediatric advocacy organizations that serve children facing chronic or life-threatening conditions. I also hope to support families who are new to the medical system by helping them navigate unfamiliar environments, medical language, and emotional stress with more confidence and less fear. Ultimately, my vision is to help shape a healthcare environment where children are not passive recipients of care, but active participants in their own healing. I want to contribute to a system where fear is reduced through understanding, where communication is compassionate and clear, and where every child is supported with dignity, empathy, and developmentally appropriate care throughout their medical journey.

Throughout my life, education has represented opportunity, growth, and a pathway to helping others. I believe I deserve this scholarship because I've demonstrated perseverance, commitment, and a clear dedication to making a difference in the lives of children and families. My journey to graduate school has not been an easy one. I was first diagnosed with epilepsy and pediatric brain cancer as a baby and later experienced a recurrence with drop metastasis to my spine and CSF as an adolescent. While my classmates were focused on homework, sports, and social activities, I was balancing getting chemotherapy every Friday, MRI scans, follow-up visits, hospitalizations, medical procedures, and ongoing epilepsy care. During my years in community college, there was a period of uncontrolled seizures; my memory and ability to retain information was significantly affected due to the location of the seizures. This created additional academic challenges. Despite these obstacles, I remained committed to my education. These experiences could've derailed these goals. Instead, they strengthened my determination to persevere. I earned my Associate's degree in Paraprofessional Education and my Bachelor's degree in Child Development. Living through serious illnesses throughout my childhood and teenage years has given me a unique perspective on the emotional, developmental, and educational challenges children face during hospitalization. It inspired my goal of becoming a Child Life Specialist so I can help children navigate those same fears, uncertainties, and disruptions that I, myself have experienced. I was accepted into Erikson Institute's Masters program in Child Development with a Child Life concentration. I am excited to continue my education and complete my goal of becoming a CCLS. With that goal comes a significant financial challenge, especially while managing ongoing medical expenses. Receiving this scholarship would help reduce that burden and allow me to focus on my studies, clinical experiences, and professional development. What gives me an advantage is not that I'm more deserving than other applicants, but that I bring a unique combination of lived experience, professional experience, and academic preparation to this field. Not many people can say they know the hospital experience from both the patient and professional perspective. My goal is to use that advantage, helping children to feel less afraid, more empowered, and better supported during some of the most difficult and scary parts of their lives. This scholarship wouldn't be an investment focused solely on me in my education. It would also focus on all the children and families that I hope to help in the future as they navigate their own way throughout the walls of the hospital systems.

My desire to pursue a career a career in the nonprofit sector comes from both personal experience and years of service with children and families. As someone who has lived with pediatric brain cancer, spine cancer, and leptomeningeal disease since childhood, my whole life has been spent within the walls of the hospital; in clinics, treatment centers, and imaging suites. Through this experience, I've seen how nonprofit organizations, healthcare teams, and community advocates have the ability to transform the hospital experience. It inspired my decision to dedicate my career to helping children and families as they navigate their own hospital experience. I've chosen to pursue a path towards becoming a Child Life Specialist, a profession that combines child development, education, advocacy, and emotional support. For the past thirteen years, I've worked as a preschool assistant and have volunteered with organizations including the Chicago Children's Advocacy Center, Rush Children's Hospital, and the AshleyCan Pediatric Cancer Foundation. These experiences help reinforce my decision and the belief that every child deserves access to the support they need, regardless of the challenges they face. The nonprofit sector appeals to me because its mission is centered on helping people, rather than the profit they could be receiving. These organizations often fill critical service gaps, helping to provide needed resources to underserved populations, while also advocating for those who voices may not be heard. Nonprofit organizations, such as 501(c)(3) hospitals, play a vital role in pediatric healthcare. They fund research , provide support programs, offer financial assistance, and create opportunities that children experiencing illnesses normally wouldn't receive; giving them a sense of joy and normalcy, despite their illness. I want to be a part of that mission. My long-term goal is to be a Child Life Specialist, working in a children's hospital. I want to be actively involved in those nonprofit organizations that support hospitalized children, like Beads of Courage and Make-A-Wish. Helping children with chronic illnesses, cancer, and developmental needs. I hope to help children better understand their medical procedures, develop coping skills, and maintain a sense of control during their hospital experience. I also hope to provide parents and siblings with the support they need, as illness affects the entire family. By reducing fear and providing developmentally appropriate support, I believe I can help improve the healthcare experiences of children and families. I hope to use my own personal experience to advocate for the awareness of pediatric illnesses and how important psychosocial care is. Having navigated the hospital system myself, through years of treatment, I understand how valuable compassionate professionals who take the time to listen, explain procedures, and provide support are. I want to be that person. I also want to contribute to the programs providing access to needed resources, helping families break through the financial barriers that come with complex medical treatment. My goal is to make a difference in the healthcare system. Helping children feel safe, understood, and empowered when they visit the hospital. Whether it is through direct care, nonprofit advocacy, educational programming, or community outreach programs, I want my work to create a positive, lasting impact on the lives of children and families. The nonprofit sector allows me to combine my professional skills, personal experience, and passion for helping children into meaningless work that will improve the lives of others and strengthen communities.

My inspiration to pursue a career in pediatric medicine started within the very walls of the hospital that I now train to re-enter. At five months old, I experienced my first seizure, leading to the discovery of an incredibly rare tumor in my left temporal lobe at six months old. Over the last two decades, this journey has evolved to include a recurrence with drop metastases, adding a secondary spine tumor with leptomeningeal disease, requiring chemotherapy and fifteen surgeries that span into my adult life. These include five brain surgeries and two invasive surgical EEGs. My pediatric oncology milestones include three open craniotomies, one for grid/strips electrode monitoring, one for tumor resection, and one for a biopsy, and four adult procedures consisting of one for depth electrode monitoring, two LITT procedures, one to remove scar tissue causing uncontrolled seizures, and one for a biopsy, and one open craniotomy for a tumor resection this past March. I don't share my medical journey to list hardships to make someone feel bad for me; this has been my life, and spending time in the hospital is normal for me. I share this information to speak a shared language and show why it is that I chose to pursue working in the pediatric healthcare setting. I know the landscape of the oncology setting, with the claustrophobic MRI and CT scans, the nature of electrode mapping with its itchy glue on the leads, the isolation of long stays in the PICU and EMU, the feeling of entering the OR not knowing if you'll come back out alive, and the nauseous, sleepless nights after a long day of chemotherapy. This is the reality that I have lived in, and I am dedicating my academic and professional journey to return to the walls of the hospital, helping other children and families as they navigate the same battle. My educational path originally started by earning an A.A.S. as a paraprofessional, but when I put more thought into it, I decided that going into Child Life was the better pathway for me to take. I can use my own personal experience and combine it with the training I received while working in the preschool setting over the last ten years. This allows me to tailor the needs of the child according to their age and developmental level to teach them about their medical procedure, diagnosis, or illness. With my own personal experience receiving many of these procedures, I can create something using medical play that they will understand from a whole other perspective. The ultimate goal I have is to become a Child Life Specialist. In this role, my personal and professional background will merge perfectly. I want to use my experience working with children and life as a pediatric oncology patient to help children through play, using developmentally appropriate education to navigate their own experiences, helping patients, families, and siblings throughout their lives in the hospital setting. I know how to explain the complex neurological exams, imaging, or procedures for a terrified child, because I've been in their shoes, while also supporting those anxious family members as they navigate the diagnosis, because I've watched my own family navigate it. Receiving this scholarship would be an honor. This investment represents more than financial aid; it supports the future trust of families. Alleviating the dual financial demands of my graduate degree and my ongoing healthcare, this support will allow me to pour my energy into my training for the future. The legacy of your child will live on through the psychosocial care that I will provide to patients and families.

My family has been impacted by cancer through my own diagnosis as an infant and recurrence as a pre-teen. Through this journey, I have learned many things, and I want to use them to help other families navigate their own diagnosis. I have had cancer most of my life; there was only a 7-year break in between the original resection and the recurrence. Knowing what life in the hospital environment is like has helped me learn how to help children who experience what I have, while also teaching me not to take things for granted or use the diagnosis to get attention or things that I wanted. My older sister didn't get the support she needed when I was first diagnosed; if this had happened, she'd have a better outcome and understanding to this day. She was 4 and didn't understand what was going on; she just knew that there was attention being taken away from her. This taught me not to forget about those siblings who also need support, understanding what is going on, and why the other child is receiving more attention than normal. Knowing this as an adult can help me prepare to help those siblings who require support. Experiencing chemo, MRI and CT scans, EEGs, surgeries, and inpatient stays in the ICU helped prepare me for my chosen career. Knowing how all these feel helped me understand what it feels like on the patient side and how I can prepare children for these procedures. As a child life specialist, I will be the one helping to prepare children for these procedures. My experience will allow me to prepare them better. Learning how to ignore things to stay still during an MRI, use deep breaths to make nausea go away, or navigate itchy EEG leads and healing incisions. These experiences will help me as I prepare children, teaching them how to navigate these procedures and the side effects that come with them. Going through chemotherapy, while also going to junior high and high school, I learned how to communicate with teachers and prepare for the missed days of school ahead of time; having to get homework and notes for those missed days, while also remembering to get them all done and turned in, while in the middle of treatment and afterwards when you don't feel good. This helped prepare me for the future as I started college and had to multitask more, navigating multiple classes, doctor's appointments, and scans. I can use this experience to help those families and children who are also experiencing this. Learning how to navigate life at school with their hospital experiences and going through treatment. My treatment made me lose so much weight that you could see my ribs. This helped me learn not to focus on how much you weigh or what your body looks like. Especially with social media and everybody wanting to look "perfect" when there is no such thing. This is an important lesson that will be handy in the future, helping others as they navigate their own journey through cancer treatment, especially teenagers in this world where we expect everyone to look a specific way. My cancer journey has been a long one, and my family has been affected by it. These experiences have helped me learn how to navigate life while undergoing the treatments and constant appointments, while also preparing me to be a better caregiver, and paving the way to become a child life specialist. Without this, I wouldn't have the knowledge of life in the hospital to help others with their own experience.

I have been giving back to my community by volunteering in the hospital and community environments. Throughout these opportunities, I have been in the pediatric environment working under a child life specialist, helping to create a more normalized space for children as they go through what would be a stressful encounter with medical professionals or social workers. I plan to continue doing this type of volunteer work as I prepare for my future as a child life specialist. This type of volunteer work will help me get ready for the practicum and internship experience that I require for this career path. Creating a positive impact on my community is something that I enjoy doing, and I plan to continue doing it as I prepare for the workforce. This will help me be fully prepared when it is my time to make an impact as a child life specialist. I enjoy helping children, and helping them in their times of need will be beneficial to everyone. Once I have the opportunity to work in the medical setting as a child life specialist, I will be able to create a positive impact on the hospital environment. What would be a stressful environment for medical professionals, such as nurses, who struggle with children who are scared of the medical equipment, will become more normalized, as I will be able to provide a distraction for the child. Using these distraction methods and teaching children through medical play, the medical environment will become more normalized and less scary. Doctors and nurses will have an easier time as they provide care for pediatric patients, creating a positive experience for everyone. Creating a positive hospital environment for pediatric patients will not only help medical staff and their patients, but it will also impact the experience of the child's family members. A positive environment for the child will create a stress-free experience for the family member who comes with them. Children will be more willing to come to their appointments, as they won't be afraid. This will create a positive experience for everyone they encounter on the way there. I hope to be a part of this impact as I help those who are affected by the medical world. What the future has in store for us is unpredictable. I hope to create a positive impact on the world by making the medical environment less stressful for children, families, and medical professionals. As a child life specialist, I will be able to meet this goal as I help children and families through their medical experiences. Creating a positive environment for them will impact the hospital staff, making an overall effect on the hospital environment.

I have chosen to go into the field of child life. I want to help children and families through their medical experiences, whether it is an overnight stay, surgery, treatment, or other type of procedure. This career choice allows me to help children take what would be a stressful experience and normalize it by using play and other types of distraction methods. This is something that I am passionate about because I have experienced what it is like to be a pediatric patient going through cancer treatment and surgeries. I know how stressful life in the hospital can be. By becoming a child life specialist, I can take my knowledge of child development and use it to meet the needs of the child and their family, helping them understand their medical experience according to their developmental level. My passion for this career didn't start with my own diagnosis, but with my brother's. Being a sibling of a child with type 1 diabetes, I know how those children feel as they watch their sibling go through their medical experience. As a child life specialist, I will be able to help those siblings understand what their sibling is going through, and if they're old enough, how to support them through their diagnosis. My sister didn't get the support she needed when I was diagnosed, and now she has a hard time within the medical setting, and it's related materials, such as medication with its side effects. I want to make sure that the siblings of the children I encounter don't experience the same thing she did when she was a toddler, watching me go through my diagnosis. To become a child life specialist, I need to further my education and complete a 600-hour internship. While it requires a bachelor's degree, many internship sites won't accept anything lower than a master's degree. These are very competitive, with most people applying multiple times to get in. By sacrificing my time and money, I will have a better chance at an internship through a college affiliation. I have prepared for this by volunteering in the hospital and community setting under a child life specialist. Sacrificing my time to help others in their times of need. Once I succeed, I will need to pass the certification exam before I enter the job market. This career also requires emotional and mental sacrifices. Dealing with sick children can be an emotional experience for anyone, while also experiencing the mental strain of helping families through their grief, loss, and bereavement. This can be a difficult process, as you are forced to witness the realities of life and confront them head-on. By continuing my education, I will be able to accomplish my goal of becoming a child life specialist. Choosing this career will allow me to help children through their medical experiences and provide support to their parents and siblings as they witness their family member go through their diagnosis. The sacrifices that this requires are ones that I am willing to take if it means helping these children and their families go through these hard times.

Throughout my career working with preschoolers, I have impacted many different children's lives. some of these children come in shy, unwilling to leave their parent's side as they battle with separation anxiety, others come in with behavioral issues, as they learn how to navigate the school environment, learning how to share and interact with other students. A good example of when I had a positive impact on a child's life is when a little girl first started. She was super shy, always hiding behind her dad's legs when she was dropped off and talking in whispers. I had to gain her trust by playing with her, after her dad showed her a toy that got her attention. Eventually, she allowed me to take her hand, as she hid behind her dad's legs. She started to let me bring her to the toys and ask her what she wanted to play with that day. Soon, she started doing this on her own. As she continued getting more comfortable, she started to talk louder, eventually breaking out of her shell. Soon, when dad would drop her off, she would run in giggling, happy to be there to play with her friends. She became my buddy, coming to me when she got overwhelmed and bringing over books to read and toys to play with all the time when she was there. If I hadn't stepped in to guide her to the toys when she was dropped off, she might still be that shy little girl who first started. Instead, she broke out of her shell and became social with friends and eager to come in every day. When her sister was old enough to start, she was so excited, talking up a storm about how she wanted her to come and have fun with her at school. The little girl we had when she left was a completely different child than the one who first started out. She was social, playing with friends, singing along during circle time, and instead of not wanting to come to school for the day, she didn't want to leave and go home. By helping her break out of her shell, I created a positive impact on her life at school. Now, she is in first grade; if I didn't help her in her preschool journey, her elementary school journey could be completely different. Her social skills may have had a hard time developing, as she was shy. By guiding her towards the toys, she eventually gravitated towards friends, as they came up to her to play and they became more social. I can't imagine what would have happened if I didn't try to help her when she was first starting out. I watched her continue to improve every week as she gained her confidence and became more independent. I enjoy getting to see children as they improve throughout their preschool experience. Watching them become more independent and seeing how they enjoy coming in every day makes me happy. It is the whole reason why I wanted to work with kids. These are experiences that I will always remember when I look back on how I got to make an impact on their lives when they were first starting out.

My experience on the softball field has allowed me to learn how to be a part of a team and work together. Without this experience, I wouldn't be able to work together with coworkers as one, like I can today. It would be harder to learn how to do this, as I wouldn't have the experience I needed to do this. As I work with preschoolers, things can get really frustrating, and we need to work together, just like on the field as we go for the ball. We could be running into each other, not knowing what we need to do to corral a bunch of 2-4 year old. Knowing how to make a plan and go for the right move allows us to back each other up as they run around the room with their energy or start throwing a tantrum, as they often love to do. This experience hasn't only helped me at work, it has also helped me with my two brothers, as they explored their own journey with baseball. It has taught me how to be their coach, helping me learn how to teach others how to do things. Showing them how to bunt, catch the ball correctly, and aim their throws. They often got frustrated, but slowly they were able to learn with my help. My many years softball experience helped them with their baseball experience. Teaching them how to be a team player as well, helping them learn how to field balls and back each other up. If I didn't have my experience, I wouldn't have been able to help them improve their skills and learn how to work together, especially with each other, as they often fought over the ball. It didn't only help them be a team player with friends on the field, but with their own coworkers as they grow up and finish school and each other, as they learn how to get along better. If I hadn't started my journey in softball, going into the education field as a high school senior would have been difficult, I wouldn't have had the energy to chase toddlers all day and work together with the other teachers. .y future path would be even harder, as I go into the child life field in the hospital. I won't only have parents and children to work with, but also the doctors, nurses, and other child life staff. This will be an even bigger team that I need to work with. My softball experience has allowed me to learn how to work together as one in a team, not just as a singular person, who only goes about themselves. Without this experience, I wouldn't know what to do in a large team, it has helped me for my future experience.

My personal connection to brain cancer is, I myself have brain cancer. I was first diagnosed in January 1999, had it removed in June 2000, it recurred and metastasized down the spine and into the CSF in May 2007, and it is still there today as a Grade III APXA. One of my friends also had brain cancer, we went to the same hospital and even had the same oncologist. She was taking a experimental drug and it caused it to spread, turning into leukemia. She ended up dying from it, and now her mother has a charity foundation in her honor called AshleyCan Pediatric Cancer Foundation. I have helped her with this foundation since it started. I think that its important to spread the word about brain cancer, it doesn't have the awareness that it should. The brain is the most important organ in the body, nothing would work without it. This cancer needs to be widely talked about, raising awareness and make it just as important as those we see every year, like breast cancer and prostate cancer. I want to take all the experiences I have had during this time to help hospitalized children once I finish my degree and become a child life specialist. I know first-hand what it is like to go through chemo, have scans and tests done, have surgery, and stay in the hospital for long periods of time. I want to take these experiences to help children understand their own experience and procedures that they might be going through. This scholarship will help by allowing me to obtain this goal. I only have a little bit more until I finish this goal, I want to use it to give children a hospital experience that has as little stress and anxiety as possible. They need to feel as normal as possible as they get better or go through different treatments and procedures. I envision myself using the education and skills that I develop during this process to help the children in the oncology units understand what they will experience better than I did, learning it from someone who hasn't gone through it themselves. The skills that I develop during school and within the internship process will only help me enhance the knowledge that I already have, allowing me to learn the best way to explain it to them, based off of their developmental and cognitive levels. I also want to use this experience to spread awareness of this cancer. It doesn't get the recognition that it deserves. Having more awareness throughout the world of this will allow people to recognize different symptoms, give funding towards research, allowing more treatments to be developed and helping those who need it.

By using my experience as a primary brain and secondary spine cancer survivor current patient, and epileptic as a result of it, I will be able to better understand what hospitalized children require. I will use these experiences to help them as a CCLS inside a hospital. Having this experience I also know how to explain all the medical procedures that come with being a cancer patient, like MRIs, CT scans, EEGs, chemotherapy, port access for treatment, and surgery. My experience with these things will allow me to explain what happens during these procedures, as I have experienced them all. As well as witnessed them through my friend's brain cancer journey and cousin's bone and lung cancer journeys. I didn't recieve radiation treatment, but the two of them did. I will be able to use their experiences to show children what happens with their body through the side effects they experienced with chemotherapy and radiation vs. my experience with just chemotherapy. A good example of those would be the hair loss, mine only thinned out, but they both lost theirs. I have spent 22 years being a cancer patient, and I want to take this experience to help hospitalized children. The craniotomies caused so much scar tissue, that it was pressing down on the temporal lobe and inducing hundreds of seizures a day. Now that it has been fixed, this experience will allow me to help those children who might go through the same experience. It allows me to explain what an EEG is, and how you should be careful so you don't pull the leads off because of the reaction to the glue. As I got my Associate's degree in child development, I worked with preschoolers while my tumor was stable for 10 years after finishing the last round of chemotherapy. After COVID we found out that the tumor wasn't benign anymore, when the pressure of a cyst caused a seizure. The MRI showed that, that cyst was growth of the tumor, and it was now malignant. The followed biopsy showed that it went from a Grade II PXA to a Grade III APXA. This made me want to go back to school for my Bachelor's degree, and work towards getting a CCLS certification to help those hospitalized patients understand what is going on. By using all of my experience as a childhood cancer survivor and current cancer patient, I will be able to help hospitalized patients through my own experience in the hospital setting. This will allow me to help those children and their families get through the stressful experience that comes along with being a cancer patient, and how they can navigate their lives in and out of the hospital at the same time.