My name is Christian Murphy, and I’m a full-time Computer Science student, a working professional, and a single mom of three amazing boys. But before I was a student or a professional, I was the daughter of a single mother. That shaped everything. My mom raised me with strength and grit, even when resources were tight and circumstances unfair. She didn’t have much, but she had heart—and that rubbed off on me. Now I’m a single mom myself, and I understand just how heavy that role can feel, but I also understand the strength that rises from it. Coming from a single-parent household meant learning how to be resourceful early. I understood the value of hard work, because I saw it modeled every day. My mom didn't have the luxury of choosing between working or parenting—she had to do both, simultaneously and without complaint. That same responsibility now rests on my shoulders, and I carry it with pride. For a while, I stayed home with my kids, pouring everything I had into their growth. But life had other plans. After becoming a single mom, I re-entered the workforce and eventually enrolled in college full-time to pursue a degree in Computer Science. This decision wasn’t just about bettering myself—it was about building a future where my boys see what's possible when you refuse to give up. What coming from a single-mother household taught me is that love and resilience often speak louder than circumstance. It gave me empathy, drive, and a deep desire to help others navigate the same struggles I’ve faced—whether it's surviving on a tight budget, returning to school after years away, or starting over from scratch. The impact I hope to leave on the world comes from that same foundation. I want to build tools—technological and human—that make life easier for people who don’t have the luxury of ease. I’m especially passionate about using my tech skills to support low-income families, individuals in recovery, and single parents. These groups are too often overlooked, but they are also some of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Whether I’m working on automating workflows to help families access resources faster, building educational tools, or simply encouraging other single moms to chase their dreams too, my impact will be rooted in service. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, unheard, and overwhelmed. I also know what it’s like to keep going anyway. Iliana’s story reminds me of what it means to shine despite the weight you carry. Her words—"You got this!"—hit close to home. Because if there's anything I've learned as a daughter, a mom, a student, and a woman in tech, it’s this: You don’t have to come from perfect circumstances to create something beautiful. You just have to keep moving forward.

I didn’t grow up coding robots or taking apart gaming consoles. My journey into tech started as a mom, a problem-solver by necessity, and someone who had to learn how to fix things fast when there was no one else around. One of the first times I realized just how much I loved tinkering was when I figured out how to bypass and reset an entire set of outdated insurance forms for work by writing a Python script—on my lunch break. I worked in escrow and insurance tracking, and the process for notifying mortgage holders of expired policies was painfully manual. Agents would fax documents, forms would get lost, and everything relied on someone physically scanning pages into a clunky system that couldn’t handle bulk uploads. It frustrated me—not just because it was inefficient, but because it created real problems for real people. So I stayed late one night, watched about seven YouTube videos, and cobbled together a script that could auto-rename, sort, and flag missing fields in scanned documents. Then I shared it with a few coworkers, hoping it might save them time too. The next morning, one of them told me she cried—not because of the script itself, but because she finally got to leave work on time. That moment lit something in me. I wasn’t just messing around with tech for fun anymore—I was building things that could actually improve people’s lives. I didn’t stop there. I started using my new skills to make things more efficient in my everyday life, too. I taught myself how to automate repetitive household chores with Google Assistant routines. I helped my oldest son build a custom PC by researching every part and comparing prices to get the best performance for our budget. I created social media accounts for my clearance-deal brand and began experimenting with tools to automate post creation using AI and affiliate data. What I love about technology is how limitless it feels—how even the smallest scripts or ideas can create ripple effects. Like Kyle Lam, I’m always experimenting, trying to figure out how to make something work better, even if no one’s done it that way before. I may not have a formal title as a developer (yet), but I’ve definitely delighted others with my hacker spirit. Whether it's improving my workflow, solving a problem for a coworker, or giving my kids something cool to be proud of, I tinker because I care. I build because I believe we can always make things better. Now that I’m earning my bachelor’s degree in Computer Science, I finally feel like I’m giving that hacker spirit the structure and space it deserves. My ultimate goal is to create tools that help underrepresented families—single parents like me, folks in recovery, or small-town kids who think tech isn’t for them. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes the best builders are the ones who had to start with duct tape and Google.

My name is Christian Murphy, and I am a single mother of three boys, a full-time student pursuing a degree in computer science from Southern New Hampshire University, and someone who has learned to rebuild a life through persistence, faith in personal growth, and the power of education. My path here hasn’t been easy or linear. For years, I was a stay-at-home mom, then a single parent, and I’ve also walked the difficult but rewarding road of recovery. These experiences have not only shaped who I am but also strengthened my passion for creating a better future for both my children and my community. Technology didn’t always seem like an obvious path for me. I didn’t grow up around it, and I certainly wasn’t encouraged to pursue it as a career. But over time, I started to realize how much I enjoyed problem-solving and teaching myself new things—whether it was fixing our Wi-Fi, learning basic coding, or helping friends troubleshoot their devices. Eventually, I stopped seeing these things as just tasks and started seeing them as signs that I was capable of more. What started as curiosity turned into confidence, and that confidence led me to enroll in college and pursue a computer science degree. My goal after graduation is to work in software development or technical support, ideally in a setting where I can directly help others access and understand technology. I’m particularly interested in user experience design and the ways we can use tech to make life easier for people—not just those in the industry, but everyday users who may not be familiar with the tools available to them. Long term, I hope to work with nonprofits or educational organizations that promote digital literacy and access, especially for low-income families, women reentering the workforce, and people in recovery. My dream isn’t just about earning a living. It’s about building a life where I can help others rise the way I’ve been able to. I believe the knowledge and skills I’m gaining through my education will allow me to make a meaningful difference—not just in my home, but in the world around me. I want to be the person who says, “You can do this,” and means it, because I’ve lived through the struggle myself. Giving back to my community is not a future plan—it’s already something I strive to do every day. Whether it’s encouraging another single parent to return to school, helping someone write their first resume, or explaining the basics of online safety to a neighbor, I try to share what I’ve learned and lift others up when I can. Once I’m further along in my career, I want to create tech-focused programs in my town that offer hands-on learning for teens and adults who may not see themselves as “tech people.” I want to make technology feel accessible, even exciting, to those who’ve been left out of the conversation. More than anything, I want my children to see that it’s never too late to grow. I want them to understand that being strong doesn’t mean doing it all alone—it means learning, asking for help, showing up, and pushing through. My sons are watching me, and I hope they grow up proud of what I’ve done with the second chance I’ve given myself. With the support of scholarships like this one, I can keep moving forward—not just for me, but for every person who looks at their life and wonders if they still have time to chase a dream. I’m proof that you do.

For most of my life, learning wasn’t something I had the luxury to prioritize—it was something I put on hold to raise my family, make ends meet, and survive. But once I gave myself permission to return to learning, I realized it wasn’t a luxury at all—it was a lifeline. My love of learning has become the most transformative force in my life. It has reshaped how I see the world, how I parent, how I face challenges, and how I define success. Going back to school as a full-time computer science student while raising three boys on my own wasn’t just about getting a degree—it was about proving to myself and my children that growth never has an expiration date. The classroom, whether virtual or in real life, has become a space where I reclaim my confidence. I’ve learned to embrace being a beginner, to ask questions without shame, and to see every challenge as an invitation to grow. I've also learned to manage my time with more discipline, to advocate for myself, and to own the discomfort that comes with pushing past my limits. Outside the classroom, my curiosity has been just as active. Whether it's figuring out how to fix our Wi-Fi, teaching myself basic coding, or researching how to better support my children’s emotional needs, I’ve found that the more I learn, the more I want to learn. I’ve also developed a deeper appreciation for how different people experience the world. Being in recovery for several years has taught me that everyone is carrying something invisible—and that knowledge has made me more compassionate, more grounded, and more determined to keep going. I've found that learning isn’t just about information—it’s about connection, perspective, and resilience. Learning has changed the way I parent, too. I don’t just want my children to succeed academically—I want them to love the process of learning, to ask big questions, and to know that it’s okay not to have all the answers. I want them to see me studying at the kitchen table and know that persistence matters more than perfection. Looking ahead, I see this passion for learning guiding me into a career where I can use technology to solve real-world problems and help people who feel just as overlooked as I once did. Whether I end up developing software, supporting tech users, or mentoring others, I know I’ll never stop learning—and that’s what excites me most about the future.

If you had told me five years ago that I’d be pursuing a computer science degree while raising three boys on my own, I probably would’ve laughed—tired, overwhelmed, and too buried in survival mode to believe it was even possible. But here I am: a single mom, full-time student at Southern New Hampshire University, and someone who fell in love with technology not because it came easy, but because it gave me a way forward. My interest in computer science grew out of necessity. I’ve always been the problem-solver in my household—the one who figures out how to reset the Wi-Fi router, troubleshoot a broken phone, or keep an old laptop alive just long enough for another homework assignment. I realized that I not only enjoyed this kind of problem-solving—I was good at it. I started teaching myself HTML, dabbling in Python, and discovering that logic, code, and structure gave me a kind of peace I couldn’t find anywhere else. Computer science became my personal reset button, a space where hard work and persistence mattered more than background or privilege. My goal after earning my degree is to work in software development or technical support, ideally with a company that values user experience and accessibility. Long term, I’d love to work with nonprofits or educational platforms to make technology more approachable for people who, like me, didn’t come from a tech background. I want to help others break generational cycles, build new skill sets, and see possibilities they didn’t know existed. I don’t just want a job—I want to do work that changes lives. I believe I’m a strong candidate for the Chris Jackson Scholarship not because my story is easy, but because I’ve never stopped moving forward in spite of it. Like Chris, I’ve known what it feels like to want more for your life but feel the weight of financial barriers. I know what it means to juggle parenting, work, and late-night studying while still trying to be present for the people who matter most. What stood out to me most about Chris wasn’t just his brilliance—it was how present he was for others. That resonates deeply with me. As a mother, a student, and someone in recovery, I’ve learned that presence is everything. Whether it’s helping my sons with homework or mentoring someone who's struggling, I try to show up fully, even when life is hard. This degree isn’t just about a better paycheck. It’s about building a future where my kids see me not just as their mom—but as someone who faced setbacks, learned new skills, and rewrote the story. Your support would mean more than financial help—it would be a reminder that people believe in stories like mine. Thank you for honoring Chris’s legacy by giving people like me the chance to rise.

One project that truly resonated with me came during a season of personal transition. I had recently gone back to school full-time for Computer Science while balancing life as a single mom of three. At the same time, I was working in a role where I handled escrow accounts and insurance tracking. That experience opened my eyes to how outdated and inefficient many systems still are—especially the ones that directly impact everyday people. I realized how often families suffer not because they made mistakes, but because the systems meant to support them are built on patchwork tech and red tape. So, I started digging into ways I could use technology to make these systems better. In my own time, I began exploring how automation and clean user interfaces could simplify processes like updating insurance documents, avoiding unnecessary escrow changes, and improving customer communication. I played around with basic Python scripts to understand logic flows, learned how to clean up raw data for easier decision-making, and began building mock websites with simple HTML and CSS to imagine a more user-friendly interface for these services. What made me passionate about this wasn’t just the technical part—it was the why. I’ve been in situations where paperwork got lost, systems failed, and the people on the other end didn’t have the time or tools to fix it. I’ve also been the person answering phones, trying to explain complex policies to frustrated customers who just want someone to listen. Working in tech inspires me because it gives me the power to fix problems I’ve personally experienced. It’s not just about learning to code—it’s about learning to create solutions that actually make sense for real people. Technology offers this rare combination of logic and creativity. That balance is what keeps me coming back—even when the material is tough or time is tight. I’m inspired by the idea that a better system, a smarter tool, or a clearer interface could make someone’s life less stressful. I know what it’s like to navigate life in survival mode, and I want to use technology to build tools that make things just a little bit easier for others. This project might not have had a formal title or team behind it, but it marked the beginning of my journey into tech. It reminded me that I didn’t need permission or a big budget to start solving problems—I just needed curiosity, persistence, and the willingness to learn. And now, every new class I take or concept I study feels like another step toward becoming the kind of person I needed in the past: someone who sees problems and isn’t afraid to build better solutions from the ground up.