Blackness, Purpose, and Legacy For me, being Black means being resilient, visionary, and deeply rooted in legacy. It means carrying generations of brilliance and struggle, and transforming that history into something powerful. I am the product of my ancestors’ prayers and my community’s hope, and I walk in that truth every day. I chose to attend Lincoln University of Missouri because I needed to be in a space where I could be affirmed, challenged, and celebrated, not just tolerated. As a proud HBCU student, I’ve found a campus where leadership, culture, and excellence are not only encouraged but expected. I’ve grown immensely here, both academically and personally, and it has reminded me that I deserve to take up space. My dream is to pursue a graduate degree in psychology or social work and open a culturally affirming mental health and healing center for Black and LGBTQ+ youth. I want to help dismantle stigma, provide trauma-informed care, and empower others to heal out loud. I’ve seen what happens when we don’t have access to support. I’ve also seen what happens when we do—and I want to be the one who makes that difference. This scholarship would help lift the financial burden that weighs heavily on me and so many others. But beyond the money, it would represent an investment in my mission to be a source of light, liberation, and healing for my people.

My name is Cedric Pace, and I am an undergraduate student at Lincoln University of Missouri, a proud HBCU that has shaped both my identity and my sense of purpose. I major in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science and minor in both Psychology and Business. But beyond my degree titles, my deepest calling is rooted in healing — not just physical or environmental healing, but emotional, psychological, and spiritual restoration, especially for those our society continues to silence or overlook. Mental health is not just an academic interest for me — it’s deeply personal. As a Black transgender woman from a low-income background, I’ve endured layers of trauma, exclusion, and survival that textbooks don’t teach. I’ve felt the sharp sting of invisibility in classrooms, in clinics, and in conversations that were never built for someone like me. And yet, every hardship I’ve faced has sharpened my commitment to become what I once needed: a visible, affirming, and radically empathetic mental health professional for marginalized communities. My experiences have taught me that mental health care in this country too often fails those of us who carry the heaviest burdens — BIPOC individuals, LGBTQIA+ youth, first-gen students, and survivors of trauma. We’re either left out of the conversation or expected to conform to systems that never considered our realities in the first place. I’m here to change that. My long-term goal is to pursue graduate education in psychology, clinical social work, or community mental health, and use it to launch a community-based mental health and wellness firm tailored to underserved populations. I envision building a space where therapy is not just accessible, but deeply culturally responsive, LGBTQIA+ affirming, and rooted in holistic healing. This includes trauma-informed care, wellness coaching, creative expression, peer support, and identity-affirming spaces for Black and brown youth navigating crisis, grief, or identity. At Lincoln University, I’ve already started this mission in small but meaningful ways — from mentoring students who battle anxiety and burnout to advocating for inclusive wellness initiatives as a student leader. I’ve served as a Resident Assistant, peer mentor, public relations director for multiple student orgs, and a member of the Queens United Leadership Academy. I’ve created safe spaces for others because I know what it’s like to go without one. Every role I’ve taken on has been guided by a single purpose: to show others that they are not alone, that they are worthy, and that healing is possible. I believe that my lived experience gives me a level of insight, compassion, and urgency that no textbook ever could. I’ve lived through the very barriers I hope to dismantle — and I carry the kind of empathy that can’t be taught. The work I do is not just professional — it’s personal. It's legacy-building. It’s life-saving. Receiving the Arnetha V. Bishop Memorial Scholarship would be an investment in a future mental health leader who is not only driven by academics, but by a lifelong mission to uplift, liberate, and heal. With this support, I will continue fighting for a world where no one is dismissed for their identity, denied help due to poverty, or forced to navigate trauma alone. I don’t just want to work in mental health, I want to redefine what healing looks like for marginalized people like me.

Strength in Transition: A Legacy of Resilience My story begins long before I was born—on the soil of another continent, in the hearts of two people who dreamed of more. My family migrated from West Africa to the United States in pursuit of opportunity, safety, and a better future for the next generation. But dreams don’t come easily when they’re planted in foreign ground. The greatest challenge we faced wasn’t just crossing oceans or borders—it was crossing the invisible barriers of survival in a new land. Language, finances, housing, and employment were only the beginning. The deeper challenge was maintaining our identity, our culture, and our dignity in a system that wasn’t built for us. I watched my parents struggle to secure work, often overqualified and underpaid. My mother—once a respected teacher back home—was forced to clean houses just to keep the lights on. My father, a man of great wisdom and humility, sacrificed his own dreams so I could have mine. They never complained. But I saw the toll. I saw the long hours, the aching backs, and the quiet tears they thought I wouldn’t notice. Those moments shaped me. Growing up as a child of immigrants meant living between two worlds. At home, we spoke in accents that carried generations of history, ate food seasoned with tradition, and prayed in the language of our ancestors. At school, I had to learn to adapt—to decode cultural norms, to translate not just words but expectations. I became the interpreter, the advocate, the bridge. It was a lot of weight for a child to carry, but it taught me resilience. It made me resourceful. It made me wise beyond my years. And it made me hungry—not just for success, but for purpose. I worked hard in school, knowing every “A” I earned wasn’t just for me—it was for them. Every scholarship I apply for is more than financial help—it’s a step toward repaying the sacrifices they made in silence. I carry their struggle with me as a badge of honor, not shame. Their strength flows through my blood. Today, I am a proud undergraduate student with a 3.2 GPA, majoring in Agriculture with a focus in Animal Science and a double minor in Business Administration and Psychology. While I don’t plan to remain in the agricultural field long-term, this path has given me scientific tools and leadership experience that I will use to advocate for underserved communities. My true passion lies in human behavior, mental health, and social impact—I want to create systems that uplift people like my parents, people whose potential has been buried under hardship. The challenge my family faced in coming to the U.S. didn’t break us. It built us. It taught me compassion, grit, and a profound understanding of what it means to fight for a dream. My journey is far from over, but I know who I am—and I know whose legacy I carry. Receiving this scholarship would be a life-changing opportunity. Not just financially—but symbolically. It would be proof that our struggle meant something, that our voices matter, and that the daughter of African immigrants can and will rise. I am my ancestors’ wildest dream. And I will make sure their sacrifices were not in vain.

Healing with Heart: My Journey to Advocate for the Voiceless Since I was a child, I’ve felt a deep, almost spiritual connection with animals. While others saw them as pets or property, I saw souls—gentle beings deserving of compassion, care, and dignity. Growing up in a world that often overlooked or mistreated animals, I found myself drawn to their vulnerability. It wasn’t just love; it was responsibility. I knew from a young age that my purpose was to become a voice and a healer for those who couldn’t speak for themselves. My passion for animals wasn’t born in a perfect environment—it was nurtured in the chaos of reality. I saw animals abandoned, mistreated, and neglected. I watched people dismiss their pain. That’s what stirred something in me. I wanted to not only care for animals but to educate others, to break generational patterns of neglect, and to advocate for ethical treatment across communities—especially underserved ones. Currently, I’m pursuing a degree in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science. While I do not plan to remain in the traditional agricultural field, I’ve used this path as a steppingstone to gain knowledge about animal anatomy, biology, and health—all essential foundations for a future in zoology and veterinary science. My true dream is to bridge animal healthcare, education, and advocacy in a way that centers ethics and empathy. I envision myself working with exotic and companion animals alike, especially those in rescue shelters, wildlife sanctuaries, and rehabilitation centers. I’m particularly passionate about working with animals that have experienced trauma, abandonment, or abuse—because I understand what it feels like to be dismissed, unheard, and hurt. Animals feel deeply, and their healing deserves just as much intentionality and care as any human’s. In the future, I hope to open a sanctuary and wellness center that not only treats animals but also educates the public on animal behavior, trauma-informed care, and compassionate living. I want to provide free or low-cost care to families who love their animals but lack financial resources, and partner with schools to create youth programs that teach animal care, empathy, and advocacy. I believe the way we treat animals mirrors the values of our society. By shifting how we engage with animals, we shift how we treat one another. This scholarship would mean more than financial relief—it would be a validation of my life’s calling. I carry so much heart in what I do, but the reality is, the road to becoming a veterinary professional is difficult and expensive. As a first-generation college student navigating school with limited resources and support, I’ve had to push through financial hardship, mental strain, and systemic barriers. Still, I’ve never let those challenges stop me from showing up with passion and drive. Every class I take, every animal I encounter, every person I educate—it’s all a step toward the greater impact I plan to make. Dr. Howard Hochman’s legacy inspires me. His lifelong passion, his tireless work, and his love for both animals and education are exactly the kind of legacy I strive to leave behind. I want to not only heal animals—I want to create a better world for them. And I will.

How I Use My Uniqueness to Inspire the Unseen I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I was born into a world that wasn’t ready to understand me. As a first-generation African American college student, navigating my identity, dreams, and self-worth hasn’t always been easy. I’ve often been the “different one”—the quiet storm in the room, the person who doesn’t fit into any box but carries so much power within. I don’t just live my life; I carry purpose in every step I take. And while I may not always see who’s watching, I know that someone is—and that my presence alone could be the very thing keeping them going. What makes me different isn’t just the fact that I stand tall in rooms where people once tried to make me shrink. It’s the way I lead with empathy. It’s the way I’ve learned to turn silence into strength and pain into power. I come from a place where not many people believe in the impossible—especially not for someone like me. But I’ve chosen to believe anyway. My uniqueness is my resilience. It’s my refusal to give up even when life throws every obstacle at me. I show up even when I’m hurting. I uplift others even when no one’s uplifting me. That is my power—and that is my purpose. Through community service, I’ve made it my mission to be what I never had. I’ve volunteered with organizations supporting foster youth, offered mentorship to incoming freshmen, served on student government, and tutored peers who were ready to give up on their classes and themselves. I don’t serve for attention or praise. I serve because I understand what it means to feel unseen. And I want people—especially Black youth, especially young women, especially those struggling with identity—to see me and think, “If she can make it, so can I.” I remember one moment clearly: a younger student pulled me aside and told me that just watching how I carried myself on campus gave her the confidence to join a club she was scared to join. She said, “You don’t even talk much in meetings, but I can feel your presence. You make me want to try.” That’s when I realized—we never really know who’s looking up to us. But our authenticity can reach hearts we may never even meet. I’ve had to fight through poverty, judgment, identity struggles, and a lack of support. But I’ve turned all of that into fuel. I don’t wear a mask to fit in. I lead with truth, because I know that somewhere, someone is quietly waiting for a sign that being themselves is enough. I want to be that sign. Not because I’m perfect, but because I’m real. And being real is rare. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue pushing forward, not just for me—but for every young person silently praying for a role model who reflects their truth. I will keep using my uniqueness as a mirror and a light: reflecting back the beauty in others and showing the way forward, even in the dark. In a world that often rewards conformity, I choose to be a living example of what it means to embrace your difference and let it change lives. And I know, even if I never meet them, someone is watching—and they’ll never be the same again.

My name is Cedric Pace, and I am a proud first-generation college student attending Lincoln University of Missouri. I’m majoring in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science and minoring in both Psychology and Business Administration. While my degree is rooted in agriculture, my heart is anchored in advocacy, leadership, and human healing. I may have entered this institution through one door, but I walk through each day with a burning desire to leave an entirely different kind of legacy—one that uplifts people, transforms pain into purpose, and redefines what success can look like for students like me. Coming from Memphis, Tennessee, I know what it means to feel overlooked. I grew up surrounded by voices and environments that didn’t always believe in the impossible—yet I believed anyway. As the first person in my family to attend college, I carry not only my dreams, but also the silent prayers, sacrifices, and hopes of the generations before me. My journey has not been easy. It’s been marked by financial hardship, emotional struggle, and social adversity—but it has also been defined by resilience, growth, and a fierce commitment to rise above it all. At Lincoln University, I’ve worn many hats. I’ve served as a Resident Assistant, a peer mentor for Summer Bridge, a tutor in chemistry and biology, and a dedicated student leader in numerous organizations including the Student Government Association, Campus Activities Board, Honors College, and Queens United Leadership Academy. I’ve been Vice President of my Freshman Class, Director of Campus Culture & Wellness, and a Roar Agent during Orientation Week. Each of these roles has allowed me to grow—both personally and professionally—and to pour into my peers the very support I once wished I had. Leadership isn’t just a title for me; it’s a calling. It’s the way I turn every challenge into a chance to serve. While my academic path began in animal science, my passion lies in the emotional and psychological well-being of people, particularly underserved and misunderstood populations. I’m fascinated by how the mind works—how trauma shapes identity, how healing transforms the future, and how leadership rooted in empathy can shift entire communities. My long-term goal is to pursue graduate studies in counseling or public health and eventually open a center for holistic healing, education, and empowerment—especially for young people of color who are often left without the resources or support they need. Being in college has been about so much more than earning a degree. It has been about finding my voice, building my confidence, and learning how to navigate a world that was not designed with people like me in mind. College gave me access, opportunity, and most importantly—a sense of possibility. I’ve learned that my presence here is not just about personal success, but about changing narratives. I want to show the world what a first-generation, underrepresented, underestimated student can do when given a real chance. But that chance does not come easy. My journey has been severely impacted by financial barriers. I’ve struggled to afford basic needs like textbooks, transportation, and medication. At times, I’ve even had to pause important aspects of my gender-affirming care because I simply couldn’t afford it. Scholarships like the Alberta Bean Memorial Scholarship are not just financial blessings—they are lifelines. They are the difference between merely surviving and thriving. This scholarship would allow me to continue focusing on my education and leadership work without the overwhelming burden of financial instability. It would mean I could continue mentoring, giving back, and preparing for the future I know I’m meant to create. I connect deeply with the story of Alberta Bean. Her legacy reminds me so much of my own family—especially the women who worked multiple jobs, went without so their kids could have more, and made miracles out of very little. Mrs. Alberta’s journey from loss to strength is a powerful reminder of what it means to rise above circumstance, and I carry that same spirit in everything I do. Like Mrs. Alberta, I want to create a future that makes the past worth it. When I envision my impact, I see more than just a career. I see a movement. I want to create safe spaces. I want to build systems of support that reach those who are most at risk of being left behind. I want to break cycles—of poverty, of silence, of shame—and replace them with healing, hope, and purpose. I believe that lived experience is just as important as education when it comes to making change, and I plan to use both to build something that matters. In closing, I am not asking for this scholarship because I feel entitled—I am applying because I am ready. I am ready to carry forward Mrs. Alberta Bean’s legacy of strength and perseverance. I am ready to continue breaking generational barriers and building new possibilities. And I am ready to show the world what happens when students like me are given the chance to truly rise. Thank you for considering me.

My name is Cedric Pace, and I am an undergraduate student at Lincoln University of Missouri, majoring in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science and double minoring in Psychology and Business Administration. More than my degree titles, I am a survivor, a nurturer, and an advocate. As a Black woman shaped by pain and purpose, I carry a heavy yet sacred responsibility: to be the voice and the hand that I once needed. My life has been deeply affected by domestic abuse—not directly at the hands of a partner, but through the trauma I witnessed within my own family. I grew up watching women I loved lose themselves in cycles of abuse and silence. I’ve seen the bruises that don’t show on the skin—the mental and emotional scars that linger long after the violence stops. I’ve seen addiction grow from pain that was never healed and silence that was never broken. And I’ve felt the weight of that pain passed down through generations—affecting how we love, how we cope, how we see ourselves. What makes this even harder is how these issues are often kept behind closed doors in our community. For Black women especially, there’s an expectation to “stay strong,” even when that strength is killing us. We’re taught to pray through it, hide it, or survive it quietly—because we’ve been made to believe we don’t have the luxury of vulnerability. But I’m here to change that. That’s why I study psychology—not just out of curiosity, but out of necessity. I want to understand the trauma responses that have shaped our families. I want to develop mental health and recovery programs that feel safe, culturally relevant, and effective for Black women who have endured domestic violence or addiction, whether personally or through loved ones. I want to design services where survivors are not just treated—but believed, empowered, and deeply supported. My future goal is to earn a graduate degree in counseling or social work and specialize in trauma-informed care for Black communities. I hope to one day open a holistic wellness and healing center for women of color—a space that blends therapy, spiritual support, empowerment workshops, and career-building resources. I want it to be a place where pain doesn’t have to be hidden, where healing becomes possible, and where cycles of abuse and addiction are finally broken. I also believe education plays a key role in prevention. We need better outreach in high schools and HBCUs—safe spaces where students can learn about healthy relationships, emotional regulation, and warning signs of abuse. With the right tools and community, we can stop the silence before it becomes suffering. Receiving the Linda Hicks Memorial Scholarship would not only lighten the financial burden I carry, but it would be a deeply meaningful honor. Linda’s story mirrors that of so many women in my life—and I want to be part of the movement that ensures our stories don’t end in silence or sorrow, but in strength and survival. Her legacy deserves to live on through those of us who are building the future she needed. I am committed to using my voice, my education, and my heart to create change. Because if even one Black woman can escape a dangerous situation or heal from invisible pain because of something I helped create—then every hardship I’ve endured will have been worth it.

My name is Cedric Pace a proud student at Lincoln University of Missouri—an HBCU that has shaped not only my academic journey, but my identity, resilience, and vision for the future. As a first-generation college student and a second-generation African immigrant, my journey has never been simple—but it has always been rooted in purpose. I carry a deep responsibility to rise, not just for myself, but for every little girl like me who was overlooked, underestimated, or silenced. Every step I take toward my degree is a step forward for my community, my ancestors, and the legacy I hope to leave behind. My studies began in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science, but my passion quickly pulled me toward psychology, leadership, and human behavior. I’m now also majoring in Psychology with a minor in Business Administration, with plans to fuse those disciplines into a career rooted in transformation and healing. I want to build safe spaces, develop inclusive programs, and become a mental health advocate—especially for marginalized youth who feel unseen in systems not designed for them. College has been far more than academics for me—it’s been about serving, uplifting, and leading. I’ve held leadership positions in Student Government Association, Campus Activities Board, and Residence Life. I’ve mentored first-year students, supported foster youth through volunteer work, and served as a peer tutor in biology and chemistry. Whether I’m cheering on the sidelines, hosting wellness events, or leading orientation as a Roar Agent, I show up because I believe that presence is power—and that real change begins by meeting people where they are. But behind the scenes, the road hasn’t been easy. I’ve faced financial hardship, emotional burnout, and countless moments where I felt invisible or misunderstood. Still, I rise every day with intention, because I know my life isn’t just about surviving—it’s about impact. I plan to earn a graduate degree in counseling, organizational psychology, or leadership studies so I can one day create programs that help students of color thrive—not just academically, but mentally and emotionally. I want to help break the cycles of trauma, doubt, and silence that too many of us inherit. The legacy of Willie Mae Rawls reminds me of the power of faith, family, and fearlessness. Like her, I strive to be a source of light for those around me—to lead with love, to stand in truth, and to leave things better than I found them. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than financial relief—it would be a recognition of everything I’ve overcome and everything I’m working toward. It would allow me to continue my education without the constant weight of financial strain and give me the freedom to pour even more into my purpose. I don’t know exactly where this path will lead, but I know why I’m on it: to transform pain into purpose, and purpose into progress. I will use my voice, my vision, and my education to build something meaningful—for my community, for my future students, and for every young person who just needs someone to believe in them. In honoring Ms. Rawls’s legacy, I hope to create one of my own: not one defined by titles or recognition, but by how deeply I was able to impact others with the time I was given.

My journey into weed science began not with a deep-rooted passion for agriculture, but with a sense of duty—to my family, to my education, and to my future. As a first-generation college student and a second-generation African immigrant, I entered college with the understanding that I had to make the most of every opportunity. I chose to major in Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science because it was practical, respected, and fully funded through a competitive 1890 USDA scholarship. Though the path wasn’t one I originally envisioned for myself, it became the soil where I started planting seeds of purpose—and weed science quickly became a part of that journey. It didn’t take long before I realized that weed science is far more than pulling weeds from a field. It’s about ecological balance, food sustainability, and scientific precision. It’s about developing innovative and environmentally responsible strategies to protect crops, improve yields, and support the livelihoods of farmers. As I took courses in plant and soil science, I began to understand how interconnected weed science is to larger systems of environmental justice, food access, and economic stability. What began as a requirement quickly turned into a source of intellectual curiosity and strategic thinking. I became interested in how weed management intersects with climate change, sustainable agriculture, and community-based farming systems. In particular, I began exploring how under-resourced Black and Indigenous farming communities are disproportionately impacted by poor weed control, lack of access to safe herbicides, and environmental degradation. Weed science became a lens through which I could connect my academic training with my passion for equity and systemic problem-solving. Throughout my undergraduate years at Lincoln University, I’ve demonstrated ambition, adaptability, and leadership. I’ve served as a Resident Assistant, student government leader, cheerleader, and campus mentor. These experiences have refined my communication, project planning, and leadership skills—skills that I know are essential in scientific fields where collaboration and public engagement matter just as much as research. I’ve also maintained a strong GPA while managing multiple responsibilities, proving that I can balance rigorous academics with meaningful service. In the future, I hope to apply the skills I’ve learned in weed science to develop sustainable, inclusive agricultural systems that serve both rural farmers and marginalized communities. Whether I’m working on integrated weed management strategies, conducting field research, or advocating for better agricultural policies, I want my work to reflect both scientific excellence and social consciousness. I plan to pursue graduate studies to deepen my expertise, with the ultimate goal of leading research or extension programs that train and support young scientists—especially BIPOC students—who may not see themselves represented in this field. Receiving the Russell R. Hahn Legacy Scholarship would not only lighten the financial load I carry as a student, it would serve as a powerful affirmation of the work I’m doing and the vision I have for the future. Dr. Hahn dedicated his life to solving complex problems and mentoring others, and I would be honored to carry forward that legacy by contributing my voice, my knowledge, and my drive to the next generation of weed science. Though my path into this field may have been unexpected, I now walk it with intention and purpose. I am committed to making an impact, not just in labs and fields, but in lives and communities. This scholarship would bring me one step closer to doing just that.

As a second-generation African immigrant, I carry my ancestors’ dreams on my back. Their resilience, sacrifice, and determination are the reasons I am here today. My parents came to this country to give me access to opportunities they never had—but the journey hasn’t been easy. Being raised in an African household in America came with high expectations, cultural dissonance, and a constant need to prove myself in spaces that didn’t always see or understand me. Still, I never lost sight of who I am, where I come from, or what I’m here to do. My cultural heritage as a Nigerian-American has shaped every part of my educational journey. In my household, education wasn’t optional—it was our currency, our ticket, our way out. I was taught to honor my blessings by working twice as hard, staying humble, and always finding ways to uplift others. That mindset has guided me throughout college. While I began my academic journey as an Agriculture major with an emphasis in Animal Science, I quickly discovered that my true passion lies in psychology, leadership, and human-centered innovationfields that require just as much problem-solving as any science, but often with more compassion and creativity. I’ve since added a double major in Psychology and a minor in Business Administration so I can build a career where I lead, advocate, and design solutions that help underserved communities thrive. Serving my community has always been at the heart of everything I do. During my time at Lincoln University, I’ve taken on numerous leadership roles that reflect my commitment to creating safe, supportive, and empowering spaces for others. I’ve served as a Resident Assistant, a Summer Bridge mentor, a cheerleader, and a peer tutor. I’ve held multiple positions within the Student Government and Campus Activities Board, using my voice to advocate for wellness, culture, and student engagement. I’ve also volunteered with organizations like the Central Missouri Foster Care and Adoption Association, helping vulnerable youth feel seen. But my community work isn’t just about titles—it’s about impact. I’ve hosted mental health awareness events, led campus wellness campaigns, and mentored first-year students struggling to find their footing. I’ve planned cultural celebrations that honor African heritage and create pride and unity among Black students. Every initiative I’ve taken on is rooted in a desire to build something meaningful for people who are often overlooked—because I know what it feels like to be invisible. My goal is to always be the light I once needed. Receiving the Dr. Soronnadi Nnaji Legacy Scholarship would not only be an honor—it would be an investment in everything I’m working toward. Financial hardship has been a consistent barrier in my education. At times, I’ve had to choose between tuition and healthcare, between books and basic needs. A scholarship like this would relieve that pressure and allow me to focus more fully on becoming the leader I know I’m meant to be. It would also connect me to a legacy rooted in excellence, education, and community—a legacy I strive to continue through my own work. Ultimately, I plan to build a career that merges psychology, innovation, and community development—one where I can design programs and services that heal, uplift, and transform lives. Whether through mental health work, nonprofit leadership, or youth mentorship, I want my career to reflect the values I was raised with: discipline, service, and unshakable pride in my culture. This scholarship would not just support my education—it would affirm my mission. And I promise to carry the name and legacy of Dr. Nnaji with the same dedication, vision, and love for community that he exemplified throughout his life.

One problem I am deeply passionate about solving is the emotional and psychological disconnection experienced by youth in underserved communities—especially those who grow up feeling unseen, unsupported, and misunderstood. This disconnect, while invisible to some, is one of the most damaging issues affecting mental health, academic success, and future leadership potential. I want to change that. I want to build programs and safe spaces that address not just what students learn, but how they feel, who they believe they can be, and whether they feel truly valued in the first place. I realized this problem was important to me as early as middle school. I remember being a kid who asked deep questions, who felt things intensely, and who always saw the bigger picture—but rarely felt seen myself. I was often misunderstood by teachers, isolated by classmates, and labeled as “too much” or “too different.” I had to navigate environments that weren’t built to support someone like me. But instead of letting that make me bitter, it made me obsessed with changing the way we show up for young people—especially those like me, who are bursting with potential but feel completely alone. As I entered college, I carried that purpose with me. Even though my major is Agriculture with an emphasis in Animal Science, I quickly realized that my true calling lives at the intersection of business, psychology, and innovation. That’s why I also chose to double major in Psychology and minor in Business Administration. I want to build solutions that are not just theoretical, but practical, sustainable, and scalable. I don’t just want to study problems—I want to fix them. The disconnect I’m trying to solve shows up in many forms: students who suffer in silence because they don’t feel emotionally safe; youth who have dreams but no guidance; leaders who burn out because they’ve never been taught how to lead from a place of wholeness. I want to create systems that reverse that damage. I envision leadership academies, emotional wellness hubs, and youth entrepreneurship spaces that focus on mindset, identity, purpose, and mental health—not just academics or profit. What makes me especially driven is that I’ve lived every layer of this problem. I’ve battled depression, isolation, and financial hardship, all while trying to lead and inspire others on campus. I’ve lost access to life-saving healthcare due to cost. I’ve walked through my college years balancing visibility with vulnerability—often giving more than I had to give. But through all of that, I never lost the fire. I’ve held leadership roles as a Resident Assistant, cheerleader, Orientation Leader, and student government representative. I’ve made the Dean’s List six times. I’ve shown up even when I felt invisible—because I know that my presence, my voice, and my vision matter. This problem won’t be solved overnight—but I’m committed to being part of the solution. I’m building the foundation now so that one day, I can lead with both empathy and strategy. I want to launch organizations that support youth with both emotional tools and entrepreneurial skills. I want to be the person I needed when I was younger—and I want to multiply that impact across generations. Receiving this scholarship would not just support my education—it would support my mission. I’m not just working toward a degree. I’m working toward a future where no child feels like their voice doesn’t matter. And I won’t stop until I help create that world.

To me, going to college is more than just earning a degree—it’s a chance to reclaim my story, walk in my purpose, and create a future bigger than the circumstances I was born into. College represents opportunity, freedom, growth, and healing. It’s the path that allows me to break generational cycles, discover who I am, and build something that lasts—not just for me, but for my family, my community, and the people I hope to serve one day. Growing up, I didn’t always feel seen or understood. I often felt like I was moving through the world carrying questions no one could answer for me. I knew I was smart, passionate, and capable—but I also knew I was different. And that difference made life harder. I dealt with bullying, isolation, and experiences that made me question my worth. But despite all of that, I’ve never stopped dreaming. I’ve always believed that my life has meaning—and college has helped me start uncovering exactly what that meaning is. Attending Lincoln University has given me space to explore not just academics, but identity, leadership, and purpose. While I started as an Agriculture major with an emphasis in Animal Science, I quickly realized that my real passion lies in Psychology, leadership, and advocacy. That’s why I added a second major in Psychology and a minor in Business Administration. Even though my major says “Agriculture,” I know my purpose is centered around helping people—understanding them, supporting them, and creating spaces where they feel empowered to heal and grow. Being in college has also given me a chance to lead. I’ve served in many roles—Resident Assistant, cheerleader, Orientation Leader, student government representative, peer mentor, and Director of Public Relations for multiple organizations. I’ve planned events, mentored students, created campus wellness campaigns, and spoken up for those who didn’t feel like they had a voice. College has taught me that leadership isn’t about popularity—it’s about service, vision, and showing up when it’s hard. But I won’t pretend the journey’s been easy. Financially, I’ve struggled a lot. There have been times when I couldn’t afford essentials, lost access to critical healthcare, or had to push through school while carrying deep emotional burdens. I’ve often felt like I had to hold everything together alone. But I’ve kept going—not because I’ve had all the resources, but because I’ve had the resilience. Because I believe in my future and I’m willing to work for it, no matter what it takes. What I want to get out of my college experience is transformation. I want to leave college not just with knowledge, but with confidence. I want to leave with a sense of self so strong that I’m no longer shaken by the doubts and fears that once held me back. I want to leave knowing that I’ve laid the foundation for a life of purpose—a life where I get to help others, build something meaningful, and always stay true to who I am. This scholarship would not only help me stay in school—it would help me stay in alignment with the future I’m building. College matters to me because I know what it’s like to grow up feeling like your dreams are too big for your reality. I’m here to prove that those dreams are valid—and that with the right support, I can and will turn them into something real.

Since childhood, I’ve felt called to understand and heal people—not just their bodies, but their minds, their emotions, their stories. Even though my academic journey hasn’t followed the traditional pre-med path, my life experiences, leadership roles, and studies in psychology have led me to one clear conclusion: I want to become a medical doctor. A doctor who doesn’t just treat symptoms, but sees the person as a whole. A doctor who listens deeply, advocates fiercely, and brings compassion into every room she walks into. What draws me to medicine is not the prestige or even the science—it’s the humanity. I’ve seen firsthand how deeply people are affected when they’re dismissed, misunderstood, or reduced to a chart number. I’ve lived through moments of being unheard, unseen, and unsupported in systems that were meant to protect. These moments didn’t break me—they opened my eyes to the kind of physician I want to become. I want to be someone who brings radical empathy and cultural awareness into clinical spaces, especially for patients who have long been neglected or harmed by medical bias and systemic inequality. Getting to this point hasn’t been easy. I’ve faced significant financial hardship throughout college, including times when I couldn’t afford basic living expenses, let alone out-of-pocket educational costs. Most recently, I lost access to my gender-affirming hormone medication because I simply couldn’t afford it. I had to go without care that directly impacted my physical and mental health. This experience shook me—but it also grounded me in purpose. It made me more aware of the gaps in our healthcare system and more determined to close them. I never want another person to feel the hopelessness of knowing what they need but being unable to access it. Beyond financial barriers, I’ve had to navigate deep emotional and social challenges as a student who never quite “fit the mold.” I’ve often felt like I was doing everything alone—carrying the weight of my dreams without a net to catch me. But I’ve kept going. I’ve stayed grounded in my studies, maintained leadership roles, and poured into my community even when I was struggling silently. These obstacles didn’t derail me—they made me resilient, intuitive, and purpose-driven. What makes me stand out as a future doctor is not just intelligence or dedication—it’s emotional depth, lived experience, and my unwavering commitment to people. I understand what it means to feel powerless in a healthcare setting, and I want to flip that power dynamic by being the kind of physician who restores dignity, trust, and hope. Whether I’m delivering care in underserved areas, advocating for inclusive policies, or mentoring future students like me, I want my practice to be rooted in justice, love, and truth. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden I carry—it would affirm that students like me belong in medicine. It would remind me that despite the odds, my voice, my story, and my dreams matter. I’m not just becoming a doctor to fulfill a goal. I’m becoming one to change lives—because I know what it feels like when no one fights for you. And I’ve made it my mission to be the one who always does.

My name is Cedric Pace and I am a senior at Lincoln University of Missouri, double majoring in Agriculture (Animal Science emphasis) and Psychology, with a minor in Business Administration. While many assume an agriculture degree is all about farming, my vision expands beyond the traditional field. I see agriculture and business as powerful tools to build systems that serve people—especially underserved communities. My future goals are centered around creating businesses and programs that not only provide resources but also address mental wellness, food equity, education, and sustainability in communities that need it most. Growing up, I didn’t dream of running a farm or managing livestock. But I did grow up around communities that lacked access—to quality education, mental health support, nutritious food, and empowering spaces. These gaps have fueled my passion. My studies in agriculture have helped me understand the foundational systems that impact everything from food security to environmental justice. Meanwhile, my psychology background has helped me understand people—how they think, how they heal, and how they grow. And my business minor is helping me connect all the pieces in a way that’s organized, impactful, and sustainable. My ultimate goal is to start a wellness and leadership center that integrates agricultural education, business skills, and mental health support for young people—especially those from rural or low-income areas. I envision a space where students can not only learn how to grow their own food and manage small agri-businesses, but also learn about self-worth, leadership, emotional intelligence, and how to use their voice. I want to show others that agriculture doesn’t have to mean manual labor—it can mean empowerment, ownership, healing, and legacy-building. As someone who has held numerous leadership roles on campus—including Resident Assistant, Summer Bridge peer mentor, Orientation Leader, SGA representative, and Director of Public Relations for the Campus Activities Board—I know how to lead with purpose. I’ve seen firsthand how leadership, when done with care and intention, can shift entire spaces. I plan to carry this same energy into my career by launching initiatives that train youth in entrepreneurship, agricultural tech, mental resilience, and community leadership. Additionally, I want to partner with schools, churches, and nonprofits to bring urban agriculture, mental health awareness, and business development into classrooms and community centers. I’ve already volunteered with organizations like the Central Missouri Foster Care and Adoption Association, and I plan to continue that work on a larger scale—by combining my academic knowledge with lived experience, empathy, and creative vision. Although I have faced financial obstacles and personal challenges throughout my journey, I’ve never lost sight of my purpose. I’ve maintained a strong GPA, made the Dean’s List six times, and remained involved in Lincoln University’s Honors College and Delta Tau Alpha Honor Society. I am also a recipient of the prestigious 1890 Full-Ride Scholarship—proof that I’ve always worked hard to earn the opportunities I’ve been given. But now, I need help continuing my education and taking the next steps toward turning these dreams into reality. This scholarship would not only support me financially—it would fuel my mission to create change where it’s most needed. My plans within agriculture and business are not just about career success—they’re about building systems of care, opportunity, and empowerment for the next generation. Thank you for believing in students like me who see the bigger picture and are determined to make it real.

My name is Cedric Pace, and I’m currently a senior at Lincoln University of Missouri double majoring in Agriculture (Animal Science emphasis) and Psychology with a minor in Business Administration. While my major started in agriculture, I quickly discovered that my true passion lies in psychology, advocacy, and leadership. I'm deeply committed to helping others, creating safe spaces, and using my voice to inspire meaningful change in underserved communities—especially for those who often feel unseen or unheard. Throughout my college journey, I’ve held multiple leadership positions including Resident Assistant, student government representative, peer mentor, cheerleader, and Director of PR for our Campus Activities Board. I’ve been honored to make the Dean’s List six times and serve in the Honors College and Delta Tau Alpha Honor Society. But beyond the titles, my biggest impact has come from being someone others can trust, turn to, and feel empowered by. Financially, staying in school hasn’t always been easy. I’ve faced hardships that could have forced me to give up, but I’ve continued pushing forward because I know my purpose is bigger than my circumstances. I want to pursue a career that allows me to uplift others mentally, emotionally, and socially. This scholarship wouldn’t just help me stay in school—it would help me stay aligned with the mission I live by every day: to be a light for others and a leader for change.