Healthcare is where competence meets courage. It is where decisions are made in moments that matter, voices must be heard even when they tremble, and compassion is not optional, it is essential. I chose healthcare because I have seen how deeply it shapes lives, and because I believe women have a powerful role to play in transforming how care is delivered, understood, and led. My path toward healthcare was shaped by watching women lead through service, beginning at home. I watched my mom work as a healthcare professional, caring for her patients with a level of patience and dedication that went far beyond her job description. She never rushed conversations. She explained diagnoses and treatments in ways her patients could understand, and she treated every person with dignity, no matter their background or condition. I saw how deeply she cared, not just about outcomes, but about how her patients felt during the process. Through her example, I learned that leadership in healthcare is not loud or authoritative; it is steady, compassionate, and rooted in responsibility. Watching her advocate for patients by talking with insurance companies to overcome denials, celebrate their progress, and remain committed even when the work was demanding showed me that healthcare is not just a profession, but a form of service. That understanding reshaped how I view care and inspired me to pursue a path where knowledge, empathy, and leadership work together. At Allen High School, I saw firsthand how easily individuals can feel invisible, even in crowded spaces. Through the PALs and WINGS programs, I mentored elementary, middle, and freshman high school students, some of whom struggled with anxiety, self-confidence, and emotional regulation. I learned that leadership in care often begins quietly, by showing up consistently, listening without judgment, and creating space for someone to feel safe. Those experiences shaped my belief that healthcare must be human-centered at every level. I carried that belief into clinical practice by earning my CNA certification while still in high school. When I failed the exam on my first attempt, I confronted self-doubt head-on. Instead of stepping away, I studied with intention, asked for help, and tried again. Passing on my second attempt taught me that resilience is not a weakness exposed, but a strength developed. Today, working as a CNA and rehab aide, I care for patients recovering from surgery and managing chronic conditions. I’ve seen how fear, pain, and confusion can slow healing and how compassion, patience, and clear communication can restore hope. As a woman pursuing healthcare, I am determined to be more than a participant in the system, I want to help shape it. Women bring insight, empathy, and advocacy that are essential to the future of healthcare. I hope to contribute by championing patient education, promoting equity in access to care, and leading with integrity in every space I enter. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric nurse, serving children and families with care that is both clinically excellent and emotionally supportive. This fall, I will begin my journey as a nursing major, committed to the rigor, responsibility, and resilience this field demands. I plan to continue mentoring students interested in healthcare, especially young women who may not yet see themselves reflected in leadership roles. Healthcare needs more advocates, than observers. It needs women who are prepared to lead with both skill and heart. I am pursuing healthcare because I believe care can be stronger, more inclusive, and more human. With education and opportunity, I am ready to help build that future, one patient, one decision, and one act of courage at a time.

The moment I realized I wanted to become a nurse didn’t come from a single dramatic experience or a sudden decision. It grew quietly over time as I watched my mom work as a healthcare professional, caring for her patients with patience, skill, and compassion. I saw how she took the time to explain what was happening to their bodies, how she listened when they were afraid or frustrated, and how her presence alone brought reassurance. Through her, I learned that healthcare is not just about treatment, but about trust. I watched how compassion could calm fear, how clear explanations could restore confidence, and how being fully present could make even the hardest moments more bearable. Nursing stood out to me because it is one of the few professions where science and humanity work side by side, and where caring for the person matters just as much as treating the condition. My desire to pursue a nursing degree is rooted in service. From an early age, I learned to care for others by leading through responsibility and consistency. As the oldest child in my household, I became someone others relied on. That instinct carried into my school and community life. Through PALs and WINGS, I mentor elementary, middle, and freshman high school students, helping them with academics while encouraging them to believe in themselves. Many of the students I work with struggle quietly, and I’ve learned that showing up consistently can be life-changing. Service beyond school further shaped my calling. I volunteer at local food banks and through my church’s welfare department, helping distribute food and essentials to families in need. These experiences taught me that care is about dignity. A simple act of kindness, patience, or respect can remind someone that they matter. Nursing reflects that same principle, meeting people where they are and treating them with compassion during vulnerable moments. My commitment to nursing became tangible when I earned my CNA certification while still in high school. Failing the exam on my first attempt was discouraging, but it taught me resilience. I studied again, passed, and began working as a CNA and rehab aide. In this role, I care for patients recovering from surgery or managing chronic conditions. I’ve learned how demanding healthcare can be, both physically and emotionally, and I’ve embraced those challenges because the work matters. Each interaction reinforced my belief that nursing is not just a career, but a calling. This fall, I will continue that journey as a nursing major at a university I am proud to attend. Pursuing a nursing degree will allow me to deepen my clinical knowledge, strengthen my critical thinking, and prepare for the responsibility of caring for others at a higher level. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric nurse, serving children and families with empathy, patience, and clear communication. As a nurse, I hope to contribute to my community by being an advocate and educator. I want to help patients and families understand their care, feel confident asking questions, and trust the healthcare system. I also plan to continue mentoring younger students, especially those interested in healthcare, showing them that nursing is a path built on service, resilience, and heart. Nurses are often present during life’s hardest moments. I want to be the person who brings calm into chaos and reassurance into uncertainty. By pursuing a nursing degree, I am committing not only to my education, but to a lifetime of service. With the support of this scholarship, I will continue preparing to make a meaningful difference, one patient, one family, and one community at a time.

I learned early that opportunity is not evenly distributed, but leadership has the power to change who gains access to it. Growing up, I understood that education would be my pathway forward, not only for personal success, but for impact. That belief shaped how I approached school, service, and the future I am determined to build. I am a Black high school senior with strong academic ability, leadership experience, and a deep interest in the intersection of healthcare and business. To me, business is not simply about profit; it is about responsibility. The decisions made in boardrooms and offices determine who receives care, who understands their options, and who is left behind. I want to be a leader who ensures that healthcare systems serve people with equity, efficiency, and compassion. Throughout high school, I balanced academics with leadership, work, and service. I served as Vice President of the African-descent Student Organization, helping create a space where students could celebrate culture, build confidence, and step into leadership. I also mentored younger students through PALs and WINGS, supporting children who needed encouragement and consistency. These experiences taught me that leadership grounded in service multiplies impact. My commitment to service extends beyond school. I volunteer regularly at local food banks and through my church’s welfare department, helping distribute food and essential supplies to families in need. These experiences showed me that behind every statistic is a real person, and that sustainable change requires both compassion and structure, values that align strongly with ethical business leadership. Professionally, I earned my CNA certification while still in high school and now work as a CNA and rehab aide, caring for patients during vulnerable moments. When I failed the certification exam on my first attempt, I learned a powerful lesson in accountability and resilience. I studied again, passed, and gained firsthand experience in persistence, problem-solving, and continuous improvement, skills essential in both healthcare and business. These experiences clarified my long-term goal: to pursue a career that combines healthcare expertise with business leadership. I want to help design systems that make care more accessible, understandable, and sustainable, particularly for underserved communities. Whether through healthcare administration, nonprofit leadership, or entrepreneurship, I plan to use business principles to expand opportunity rather than restrict it. The rising cost of college presents a real barrier, but it does not diminish my ambition. This scholarship would allow me to focus fully on my education and prepare for a career dedicated to impact. With the right support, I will continue transforming knowledge into leadership and leadership into service, helping build a future where healthcare is not just effective, but equitable.

My relationship with Jesus didn’t begin with having all the answers. It began with learning how to serve, even when it was uncomfortable, unnoticed, or inconvenient. I came to understand my faith not as something I spoke about, but as something I lived out daily through patience, humility, and love for others. Growing up, responsibility came early. As the oldest child in my household, I learned how to lead by example and care for others before being asked. Over time, that responsibility became purpose. I began to see service the way Jesus modeled it, not through recognition, but through consistency and compassion. His life showed me that loving others means showing up, listening, and putting their needs before your own. That belief guided my educational journey. In high school, I became involved in PALs and WINGS, mentoring younger students in elementary, middle, and freshman high school. I helped with schoolwork, listened when they needed someone to talk to, and tried to be a steady presence they could trust. Many of these students struggled with confidence or felt overlooked. Walking alongside them reminded me that Jesus often worked one-on-one, meeting people exactly where they were. Through mentorship, I learned that encouragement can change how someone sees themselves and their future. My faith also shaped my commitment to serving my community. I volunteer regularly at local food banks and through my church’s welfare department, helping distribute food and essential items to families in need. These moments taught me that service is about dignity, not charity. A warm greeting, a kind word, or simply treating someone with respect reflects Christ’s love more powerfully than anything spoken. Even in moments of personal challenge, my faith grounded me. When I failed my CNA certification exam on my first attempt, I felt discouraged and questioned myself. Instead of giving up, I prayed for perseverance and clarity. I studied again, tried again, and passed. That experience reminded me that faith doesn’t promise ease, but it does provide strength to continue. Today, working as a CNA and rehab aide allows me to serve others with patience and empathy, treating each person as valuable, just as Christ teaches. As I pursue higher education with the goal of becoming a pediatric nurse, I plan to continue implementing my faith through service, integrity, and compassion. I want my education to be a tool that allows me to care for others fully, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I hope to be a light in spaces where fear or uncertainty exists, especially for children and families navigating difficult moments. Jesus’ life was defined by service, and my faith calls me to do the same. As I continue my educational journey, I am committed to leading with love, serving with humility, and using my gifts to uplift others. I may not change the world all at once, but I believe that living out my faith through everyday acts of service is how lasting impact is made.

I learned early that education is not only a personal milestone, but also a responsibility. Every opportunity I’ve been given has felt like something I needed to use well, not just for myself, but for the people who come after me. That belief has shaped my academic goals, my commitment to service, and the kind of impact I hope to make in the world. My academic and professional goal is to pursue a career in healthcare through nursing, with a long-term vision of working as a pediatric nurse and educator. I am drawn to healthcare because it blends science, compassion, and responsibility. I want to understand how the body works, how healing happens, and how knowledge can be shared in ways that empower patients rather than overwhelm them. Education plays a major role in that vision. I believe that when people understand their health, they are better equipped to advocate for themselves and their families. I have worked intentionally toward this goal by challenging myself academically and seeking real-world experience. While still in high school, I earned my CNA certification and began working as a CNA and rehab aide, supporting patients recovering from surgery and managing chronic conditions. Even when I failed the certification exam on my first attempt, I didn’t walk away. I studied again, refined my approach, and passed. That experience taught me perseverance and confirmed that setbacks do not define potential, but how our response does. Giving back to my community has been just as important as my academic growth. I volunteer regularly at local food banks and through my church’s welfare department, helping distribute food and essential supplies to families in need. These experiences showed me how much dignity matters. A kind word, a listening ear, or a familiar face can restore hope to someone having a difficult day. I also mentor younger students through my school’s PALs and WINGS programs. Working with elementary, middle, and freshman high school students has taught me the power of encouragement. I’ve seen how consistent support can build confidence and shift how students see themselves. In addition, serving as Vice President of the African-descent Student Organization allowed me to help create a space where students could celebrate their culture, build community, and find their voices. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that impact doesn’t always come from grand gestures. It comes from showing up consistently and leading with intention. My community service has inspired me to aim higher, not just professionally, but personally. It has reinforced my desire to work in spaces where care, education, and advocacy intersect. Higher education is the next step in that journey. With the right support, I will continue turning opportunity into action. My goal is to use my education to improve lives, strengthen communities, and ensure that the impact I make reaches beyond myself. When one person is given the chance to grow, entire communities can rise with them, and I am committed to being part of that change.

Some goals are loud and obvious. Mine grew quietly, shaped by showing up when no one was watching. One of the goals I worked hardest to reach was becoming someone my community could depend on, not just in words, but through consistent action. Everything I have done in high school, from service to leadership to healthcare work, has been driven by that goal. I began working toward it through service. I volunteered regularly at local food banks and through my church’s welfare department, helping distribute food and essential supplies to families in need. These experiences taught me that service is not about charity alone; it is about dignity. I learned how meaningful it is to greet people by name, to listen, and to offer kindness without judgment. Over time, volunteering stopped feeling like something I did and became part of who I am. Mentorship became another important way I worked toward this goal. Through my school’s PALs and WINGS programs, I mentored elementary, middle, and freshman high school students. I helped with schoolwork, read with them, and most importantly, tried to be a steady presence they could trust. Many of the students I worked with struggled with confidence. Watching them begin to believe in themselves reminded me that small, consistent encouragement can change someone’s outlook on their future. Leadership allowed me to expand that impact. As Vice President of the African-descent Student Organization, I helped create a space where students could celebrate their culture and feel a sense of belonging. I worked with other leaders to organize discussions, events, and activities that encouraged pride and connection. Seeing students step into their voices and support one another showed me how leadership, when rooted in service, multiplies impact. At the same time, I pursued hands-on experience in healthcare by earning my CNA certification and working as a CNA and rehab aide. Even after failing the exam on my first attempt, I stayed committed, studied again, and passed. In my work, I learned that care is built through patience, empathy, and attention to detail, the same values that guide my service and leadership. What I am working toward next is a future as a pediatric nurse and educator. I want to continue serving communities through healthcare while mentoring and educating the next generation. I believe lasting change does not come from single moments, but from seeds planted over time, acts of kindness, leadership, and consistency that grow into trust and hope. The goal I worked hardest to reach was becoming someone who serves with intention. I carry that commitment forward in everything I do. I will continue to lead by example, mentor with compassion, and serve my community with humility, trusting that the seeds I plant today will grow into something greater than myself.

Resilience didn’t show up in my life as one dramatic moment. It showed up in the decision to keep going when things didn’t turn out the way I planned, and in choosing growth over frustration when giving up would have been easier. One of the first times I truly understood resilience was when I didn’t make my high school volleyball team. I had played for years and trained hard, fully expecting to earn a spot. When I didn’t, the disappointment was real. For a while, it felt like all that effort had been wasted. But instead of letting that setback define me, I redirected my time and energy into places where I could still grow and serve. That choice changed everything. With the extra time, I became more involved in mentoring through PALs and WINGS, working closely with younger students who needed encouragement and consistency. I also stepped into leadership as Vice President of the African Student Organization, helping create a space where students could feel proud of their heritage and confident in who they are. Over time, students who were once quiet began speaking up, leading activities, and supporting one another. Watching that transformation reminded me that resilience isn’t personal and it can be contagious. Another defining moment came while earning my CNA certification. Failing the exam on my first attempt shook my confidence. I questioned myself and wondered if I was truly capable of working in healthcare. But I knew that quitting would send the wrong message, not just to myself, but to the students I mentored who looked to me as an example. I studied again, practiced intentionally, and passed on my second attempt. When I shared that experience with others, especially younger students, it encouraged them to see failure as part of the process rather than the end of the road. Resilience has also shaped how I serve my community. Through volunteering at food banks and my church’s welfare department, I’ve learned the value of showing up consistently. People often don’t need grand solutions; they need someone dependable. That lesson carries into my work as a CNA and rehab aide, where patients often feel discouraged during recovery. I’ve seen how steady encouragement and patience can help someone believe in their own progress again. What I’ve learned is that resilience doesn’t mean having everything figured out. It means being willing to adapt, learn, and keep moving forward. It means turning setbacks into lessons and using those lessons to lift others. Hester Richardson Powell’s life reflects that same quiet strength. She overcame barriers not by giving up, but by investing in education, service, and people. I strive to honor that legacy by leading through example, staying committed to growth, and using my experiences to inspire others to believe in themselves. If someone sees my journey and realizes they can keep going too, then every challenge I’ve faced has served a purpose.

1. Personal Inspiration for Pursuing a Career in Nursing: My desire to become a nurse grew from watching care happen quietly, consistently, and with intention. Growing up, I saw healthcare not as something distant or intimidating, but as something deeply human. I watched my mother work as a physical therapist, treating patients with patience and dignity, especially those living with chronic conditions that were often misunderstood or overlooked. I saw how trust was built not through authority, but through presence. That understanding followed me into my own experiences. As the oldest child in my household, I learned early how to care for others, to notice when someone needed support before they asked. In high school, I carried that instinct into mentoring younger students, volunteering at food banks, and serving families through my church’s welfare department. Each experience reinforced the same truth: people heal better when they feel seen. Pursuing nursing became real when I earned my CNA certification. The process was not easy. I failed the exam on my first attempt, and for a moment, I questioned myself. But I knew the work mattered too much to walk away. I studied again, tried again, and passed. Since then, working as a CNA and rehab aide has confirmed that nursing is where I belong. Caring for patients recovering from surgery or living with long-term conditions taught me responsibility, empathy, and humility. I am inspired to pursue nursing because it allows me to combine skill with compassion. I want to be the nurse who notices the quiet patient, who explains without rushing, and who understands that healing is not only physical. Nursing, to me, is not just a career, it is a commitment to care, even when it is difficult, and especially when it matters most. 2. What “Human Touch” Means to Me and Its Impact on Patient Care: To me, “human touch” is the part of healthcare that cannot be charted, timed, or measured, yet often matters the most. It is the pause before answering a worried question. It is eye contact instead of a rushed explanation. It is the difference between treating a condition and caring for a person. In healthcare, especially nursing, human touch begins with presence. Patients are often frightened, overwhelmed, or vulnerable, and those emotions do not disappear when treatment starts. I’ve seen patients relax when someone speaks calmly, explains a procedure slowly, or simply stays in the room a little longer. These moments may seem small, but they build trust, which is essential for healing. Working as a CNA and rehab aide taught me how powerful human touch can be. I’ve helped patients take their first steps after surgery, supported those managing chronic pain, and cared for individuals who felt frustrated by their loss of independence. What made the biggest difference was not always the task itself, but how it was done. A steady hand, a reassuring voice, or patience during a difficult moment changed how patients experienced their care. Human touch also means listening beyond words. It means noticing body language, tone, and silence. Some patients struggle to express fear or confusion, especially children or older adults. Nurses who practice human touch learn to read those unspoken signals and respond with empathy. That ability can reduce anxiety, improve cooperation with treatment, and help patients feel respected rather than rushed. In small towns and close-knit communities, this kind of care becomes even more meaningful. Nurses are often trusted figures, not just medical professionals. They are the ones families turn to for guidance, reassurance, and clarity. A nurse who practices human touch strengthens not only patient outcomes, but the entire community. As a future pediatric nurse, I want to carry human touch into every interaction. I want children to feel safe, parents to feel informed, and patients to feel valued. Skills and knowledge are essential in nursing, but compassion is what allows those skills to truly help. Human touch is what transforms healthcare from a service into a relationship, and that is the kind of nurse I aspire to be.

Selected Paragraph (Plato, Republic, Book VII – Allegory of the Cave) “Imagine prisoners who have been chained from childhood, with their legs and necks fettered, so that they remain in the same spot, able to look forward only, and prevented by the chains from turning their heads. Light is provided for them by a fire burning behind them at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.” Essay: Seeing Clearly Beyond the Page Thesis: In this passage, Plato argues that ignorance is not a lack of intelligence, but a condition sustained by limited perspective, comfort, and habit, a warning that applies not only to philosophy, but to how we understand people, health, and education. Plato’s prisoners are “chained from childhood,” a phrase that immediately signals permanence and normalization. Their condition is not temporary; it has shaped their understanding of reality from the very beginning. This matters because Plato is not describing ignorance as a personal failure, but as an environment. The prisoners believe what they see because they have never been shown another way to see. This idea resonates deeply with how knowledge, beliefs, and even health outcomes are shaped by access, education, and circumstance. The prisoners are not blind. They can see clearly, but only in one direction. Their limitation is not vision, but mobility. Plato suggests that understanding depends not on intelligence alone, but on the ability to shift perspective. In healthcare, this distinction is critical. Patients are often viewed through narrow lenses: symptoms, charts, diagnoses. Without the ability to “turn one’s head,” providers risk seeing only fragments of a patient’s reality instead of the whole person. Close reading, in this sense, becomes a practice of listening carefully, asking better questions, and resisting assumptions. The fire behind the prisoners provides light, but not truth. It illuminates shadows while concealing their source. Plato’s fire represents partial knowledge, information that appears complete because it is familiar and consistent. In medicine and education, this mirrors how protocols, statistics, or surface-level explanations can feel sufficient while overlooking individual experience. A patient’s chart may explain what is happening biologically, but it cannot explain fear, confusion, or cultural context unless someone takes the time to read beyond what is written. The raised way and the low wall introduce mediation. The prisoners do not encounter reality directly; everything they see is filtered. Plato’s reference to marionette players suggests that perception is often shaped by unseen forces. In healthcare, these forces can include systemic bias, unequal access, or assumptions about certain communities. Without close attention, providers may mistake shadows for truth, believing they understand a patient’s situation without truly listening. What makes this passage especially powerful is Plato’s refusal to blame the prisoners. They are not foolish; they are human. Their condition invites responsibility rather than judgment. This perspective has shaped how I approach my future in healthcare and education. As someone pursuing pediatric nursing, I see close reading as an ethical practice. It means reading a patient’s words, silences, body language, and history with care. It means recognizing that understanding requires patience and humility. Close reading also informs how I hope to educate others. Just as Plato challenges readers to question what they accept as reality, education should challenge students to look deeper, ask why, and recognize what might be missing. Whether interpreting a text, a patient’s symptoms, or a child’s behavior, meaning is rarely found on the surface. Plato’s cave is not just a metaphor for ignorance; it is a call to responsibility. To leave the cave requires courage. To help others leave requires compassion. Close reading, beyond literature, is how I plan to do both.

Life has placed me in boiling water more times than I can count. Responsibility came early. Expectations were high. Failure felt unforgiving. I’ve learned that pressure can either break you, harden you, or transform you. I chose to transform. As the oldest child in my household, I grew up learning how to carry weight. I learned how to lead before I ever learned how to rest. I became someone others depended on, my younger sisters, classmates, patients, and members of my community. Instead of letting that pressure make me resentful or closed off, I used it to become dependable, compassionate, and driven. That choice shaped how I show up in every space I enter. My impact on my community began with service. Through mentoring programs like PALs and WINGS, I’ve worked closely with elementary and middle school students who needed encouragement more than correction. I didn’t try to fix them; I showed up consistently. Over time, shy students began speaking up. Struggling students started believing they could succeed. The environment changed because someone chose to care. That same approach followed me into my volunteer work at food banks and my church’s welfare department. I’ve helped distribute groceries to families who were exhausted, overwhelmed, and trying to stay hopeful. I remember one moment clearly, a young girl jumping with excitement when she saw her favorite fruit snacks in the bag we handed her family. That joy wasn’t about food alone. It was about dignity. It was about being seen. The situation didn’t change overnight, but the atmosphere did. Healthcare became another place where I chose to be the coffee bean. While earning my CNA certification in high school, I failed the exam on my first attempt. That moment could have hardened me or made me quit. Instead, I studied again, trusted the process, and passed the second time. Today, I work as a CNA and rehab aide, caring for patients recovering from surgery and managing chronic conditions. I don’t just assist with physical care, I offer patience, reassurance, and presence. In rooms filled with fear and frustration, I bring calm. Leadership followed naturally. As Vice President of the African-descent Student Organization, I helped create a space where students felt proud of their culture instead of hiding it. Confidence grew. Participation increased. Students who once stayed quiet began leading. When people feel valued, environments change. My degree will allow me to expand this impact. I plan to become a pediatric nurse and educator, serving children and families in underserved communities. I want to combine healthcare with education, advocacy, and mentorship. I want to help families understand their health, empower children to feel safe in medical spaces, and mentor young people who don’t yet see themselves represented in healthcare. The world will always have boiling water. Systems won’t always be fair. Circumstances won’t always be kind. But I believe transformation is still possible. I have lived it. I choose to be the coffee bean, and with education, community, and courage, I will continue changing the environment, one space, one life, one future at a time.

There was a moment when I seriously questioned whether I was meant to work in healthcare. I had studied for weeks, prayed often, and felt confident walking into my CNA certification exam. When I received the results and learned that I had failed, the disappointment hit harder than I expected. I felt embarrassed, discouraged, and unsure of myself. For the first time, I wondered if I had misunderstood God’s plan for me. In that moment, I leaned on my faith more than ever. Instead of pulling away in frustration, I turned toward prayer. I asked God not for an easy path, but for clarity and strength. I reminded myself that faith does not mean everything will go smoothly; it means trusting God even when things don’t. I also leaned on my church community, where I found encouragement instead of judgment. People reminded me that setbacks are not signs of failure, but opportunities to grow. Still, faith alone didn’t mean waiting passively. It meant taking action with trust. I studied again, reviewed my weaknesses, and practiced until I felt prepared. I prayed not just for success, but for peace, discipline, and confidence. When I took the exam a second time and passed, I felt overwhelming gratitude. That moment was not just about earning a certification; it was about learning perseverance and trusting that God was still working, even when things didn’t go as planned. That experience changed how I approach challenges. Since then, I’ve worked as a CNA and rehab aide, caring for patients who are often experiencing their own setbacks. Many of them are frightened, frustrated, or tired. Because of my own experience, I understand how important encouragement and faith can be in moments of uncertainty. I’ve learned to listen carefully, offer reassurance, and treat every patient with patience and dignity. Faith has also guided me beyond that single obstacle. It motivates my volunteer work at food banks and my church’s welfare department, where I serve families who are struggling. It grounds my leadership when mentoring younger students through PALs and WINGS. Faith reminds me that my purpose is bigger than personal success; it’s about serving others with compassion and humility. As a final year high school student with a financial need, continuing my education has not always felt secure. There are moments when the cost of college feels overwhelming. In those moments, my faith reminds me why I’m pursuing this path. I believe I am called to become a pediatric nurse and educator, to care for children and families during their most vulnerable moments, and to reflect God’s love through my work. Relying on my faith has taught me that obstacles are not roadblocks; they are refining moments. My faith didn’t remove the challenge of failing my exam, but it gave me the courage to face it again. That lesson continues to guide me forward, strengthening my ambition and shaping the kind of healthcare professional and person I strive to become.

Some dreams whisper. Mine has always spoken clearly, even when I tried to ignore it. Every time I worked with a patient, mentored a younger student, or stood beside a family in need, the same thought returned: this is where I’m meant to be. My “Pie in the Sky” dream is to become a pediatric nurse who not only treats illness, but helps children and families feel seen, supported, and understood. It’s a dream that excites me, challenges me, and sometimes scares me because of how much it asks of me. This dream was sparked long before I knew the steps it would take to get there. Growing up, I watched my mom work in healthcare with deep compassion and commitment. I saw how her patients trusted her, how she advocated for them, and how much it mattered to them that someone truly cared. Later, through volunteering, mentoring younger students, and working in healthcare settings myself, I began to understand how powerful it is to show up for people during their most vulnerable moments. I realized how much children rely on adults who believe in them. Those moments planted the idea that my future should be centered on care, trust, and responsibility. Still, the path toward healthcare hasn’t felt simple or guaranteed. When I failed my CNA exam on my first attempt, I questioned myself in a way I never had before. I wondered if I was strong enough, smart enough, or capable enough to keep going. But something inside me refused to quit. I studied again, practiced more intentionally, and showed up a second time. Passing that exam didn’t just earn me a certification. It taught me that setbacks don’t cancel dreams; they shape the kind of person who carries them. Since then, I’ve taken steady steps forward. I work as a CNA and rehab aide, caring for patients recovering from surgery and managing long-term conditions. I continue serving through mentoring programs like PALs and WINGS at my high school, and through volunteer work at food banks and my church’s welfare department. None of these roles are glamorous, but each one matters. They remind me that meaningful work often happens quietly, through consistency and compassion. What makes this dream feel “pie in the sky” isn’t the title of pediatric nurse. It’s the vision attached to it. I want to help change how healthcare feels for children, especially those from underserved communities. I want hospital rooms to feel less frightening and conversations to feel more human. I want parents to feel informed instead of overwhelmed. And one day, I want to mentor young women who don’t yet believe their dreams belong in healthcare. I know I won’t reach this goal alone. Community has already carried me further than I could have gone by myself. Family, mentors, teachers, and coworkers have all played a role in reminding me who I am becoming. Saying this dream out loud feels vulnerable, but it also feels powerful. I don’t have every step figured out, and that no longer scares me. What I have is commitment, courage, and a willingness to grow. My dream may feel just out of reach right now, but I’m moving toward it every day. And I believe that’s how the biggest dreams begin to take shape.

Healthcare, to me, is about more than treatment plans and clinical procedures. It is about walking alongside people during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives and making sure they feel seen, supported, and understood. My goal is to pursue a career in pediatric nursing and healthcare education so I can improve the lives of patients and families, which includes those living with chronic lung disease or rare medical conditions that often go misunderstood or overlooked. My passion for healthcare began at home. Growing up, I watched my mother work as a physical therapist, caring deeply for patients with complex needs, including individuals living with lymphedema, a condition that is often misunderstood and under-treated. I saw how much patience, creativity, and advocacy it took to care for patients with conditions that did not have simple solutions. Watching her serve these patients taught me that rare and chronic conditions require medical knowledge, empathy, persistence, and a willingness to learn continuously. That lesson became personal as I began working toward my own healthcare career. I earned my CNA certification while still in high school and now work as a caregiver and rehab aide. In these roles, I assist patients recovering from surgery, managing chronic illnesses, and adjusting to new physical limitations. I’ve learned that patients with long-term or rare conditions often face emotional challenges alongside physical ones, such as frustration, fear, and sometimes a sense of being unheard. Being present, listening carefully, and explaining care in a way that patients and families understand can make a meaningful difference in their experience. Patients with lung disease or rare medical conditions often require long-term care, education, and advocacy. As a future nurse, I plan to support these patients by combining compassionate bedside care with patient and family education. I want families to feel confident managing treatment plans at home, understanding medications, and recognizing early signs of complications. Education empowers patients, especially those navigating rare conditions where uncertainty can feel overwhelming. I am particularly drawn to pediatric care because children, including the ones with chronic lung conditions or rare illnesses deserve caregivers who can meet them where they are, emotionally and developmentally. I want to be the nurse who helps a child feel safe during treatment and reassures parents that they are not facing these challenges alone. Long-term conditions can isolate families, and I hope to help bridge that gap by being a consistent, trusted presence. Beyond direct patient care, I plan to continue learning and advocating. Healthcare is always evolving, and patients with rare conditions often benefit when providers stay informed and curious. I want to contribute to interdisciplinary teams, support research awareness, and help connect families to resources and specialists who can improve their quality of life. Sammy Hason, Sr.’s story reflects resilience, compassion, and a lifelong commitment to learning, values I strive to embody in my own journey. Through a career in healthcare, I plan to honor those values by serving patients with empathy, advocating for those with complex conditions, and improving lives not just through treatment, but through understanding and care.

Much of who I am today is the result of people who chose to give to me, through time, encouragement, patience, and belief. I didn’t always recognize these gifts right away, but as I’ve grown, I’ve come to understand that kindness has shaped my life in ways I can never fully repay, only continue. The first people who gave to me were my family. As the oldest child in my household, I was raised with high expectations, but also with strong support. My parents believed deeply in education and responsibility, and even when things were difficult, they never stopped pushing me to work hard and believe in myself. Their sacrifices taught me that giving doesn’t always look like grand gestures; sometimes it’s consistency, guidance, and showing up every day. Teachers and mentors have also played a major role in my life. I’ve had educators who took the time to encourage me when I doubted myself, especially in moments when I felt overwhelmed by responsibility or setbacks. One teacher’s belief in my abilities helped me gain confidence in my writing and communication skills, which later pushed me to challenge myself with advanced and AP English courses. That belief stayed with me and reminded me that someone seeing potential in you can change the way you see yourself. Outside of school, I’ve experienced generosity through my community. Volunteering at my church’s welfare department and local food banks showed me what it looks like when people give without expecting anything in return. I’ve watched volunteers spend hours packing groceries, greeting families with warmth, and treating everyone with dignity. Those moments taught me that kindness can bring hope, even during hard times. I’ve also been given opportunities to grow through service and work. Earning my CNA certification, even after failing the exam on my first attempt, was possible because of the encouragement I received from people who reminded me not to give up. Their support helped me push forward, pass on my second try, and begin working as a caregiver and rehab aide. Being trusted to care for others has been one of the greatest gifts I’ve received. I plan to pay this kindness forward by building a life centered on service. As a future pediatric nurse and educator, I want to care for children and families with the same patience, compassion, and encouragement that others have shown me. I want to be the nurse who listens, the mentor who believes, and the role model who shows young people that setbacks don’t define their future. I also plan to continue volunteering and mentoring, especially in underserved communities. Whether through healthcare, education, or community outreach, my goal is to give back in ways that create lasting impact. Kindness has carried me this far. Paying it forward is something I plan to do and the way I choose to live.

Growing up, I watched my mom devote her life to caring for others. She wasn’t just a physical therapist; she was a healer, a problem-solver, and eventually a business owner who built a clinic that served people from all walks of life, including underserved patients living with lymphedema. I saw her show up for her patients every day with compassion and determination. Her example inspired me and shaped me into the person I want to become. I chose to pursue nursing because I want my work to have meaning beyond myself. I want to be present in the moments that matter most, whether that means calming a nervous child before a procedure or reassuring a parent who feels overwhelmed. Nursing allows me to combine science with empathy, and I believe both are equally important in providing quality care. Pediatric nursing, in particular, speaks to me because children deserve caregivers who understand their fears and meet them with patience and kindness. Representation in nursing still has room to grow. Although Black people make up about 13% of the U.S. population, Black nurses represent only about 11% of registered nurses, with even fewer in leadership roles (Axios, 2024). This lack of representation matters. When patients see providers who understand their cultural background, communication improves and trust grows. As a Black woman pursuing nursing, I understand the responsibility and opportunity that comes with being part of that representation. My path has not been without challenges. While earning my CNA certification in high school, I failed the exam on my first attempt. That experience was discouraging, but it pushed me to reflect, study more intentionally, and try again. Passing on my second attempt reminded me that setbacks do not cancel purpose. They refine it. Since then, I’ve worked as a CNA and rehab aide, caring for patients recovering from surgery and managing chronic conditions. These roles strengthened my patience, confidence, and understanding of what real healthcare looks like. Beyond clinical work, I’ve stayed committed to my community. I mentor younger students through PALs and WINGS, volunteer at food banks and my church’s welfare department, and serve as Vice President of the African Student Organization. These experiences taught me how to lead with humility, listen carefully, and create spaces where people feel valued. They also showed me that impact starts long before a degree is earned. In the future, I plan to serve as a pediatric nurse in underserved communities, where access to healthcare is often limited. I want to educate families, advocate for children, and mentor students of color who are interested in healthcare careers. I hope to help make nursing more accessible by showing others that they belong in this field too. I am pursuing nursing because I want to heal, but more importantly, I want to change what healthcare feels like for the next generation. Through education, service, and representation, I plan to be part of that change.

Growing up, I watched my mom thrive as a Black woman in healthcare. She is a physical therapist who not only poured herself into the care of her patients but eventually built her own clinic from the ground up. Her clinic serves people from all walks of life, including underserved patients with lymphedema who often struggle to find quality care. Watching her balance expertise with compassion taught me that healthcare is more than science; it’s service. Seeing her succeed as a healthcare provider and business owner showed me that representation matters and that impact begins when you lead with skill and heart. That example shaped the way I see my own future in medicine. Like her, I want to serve people in ways that go beyond physical treatment. I’ve already taken steps toward this path by earning my CNA certification and working as a caregiver and rehab aide. I’ve cared for patients recovering from joint replacement surgeries and supported those living with chronic conditions. These roles have shown me how powerful empathy can be in healing, how a kind word or a listening ear can mean as much as the treatment itself. My community service has deepened this lesson. At food banks and my church’s welfare department, I’ve seen families facing real struggles and learned how small gestures can make an enormous difference. One moment that stays with me is when a little girl clapped her hands in excitement after finding her favorite fruit snacks in the groceries we distributed. That joy reminded me that serving others is more than providing resources; it’s about restoring dignity and hope. Leadership has also been part of my journey. As Vice President of the African Student Organization in Allen ISD, I’ve worked to create a space where students can celebrate and embrace their heritage. Representation in healthcare starts with representation in leadership. When students see their identities respected and valued, they find confidence. I want to bring that same sense of belonging into medicine, where patients, especially those from minority backgrounds often feel unseen. I know the challenges of entering medicine as a student of color: financial barriers, underrepresentation, and the pressure of having fewer role models in the field. But I also know those barriers don’t define me. They motivate me. I am ambitious not just for myself, but for the impact I hope to make in my community. As a pediatric nurse and educator, I plan to focus on underserved communities where children often lack adequate care. I might not be aware of the exact percentage of pediatric nurses, however, I know I have never been treated by a black pediatric nurse in my years of going to see a doctor for my yearly check up. I want to provide treatment and education, helping families understand their health so they can advocate for themselves. And just as my mom inspired me, I want to mentor other young BIPOC students so they can see that there is space for them in medicine. I believe healthcare needs more diversity, more voices, and more perspectives. I aim to be part of that change, bring empathy, leadership, and representation into medicine, and ensure that the next generation sees both possibility and belonging.

I was raised in a family and community where service was a way of life. As the oldest child, I naturally stepped into a leadership role, caring for my siblings and setting an example for them. That responsibility taught me patience, compassion, and accountability, qualities that have carried into every part of my life. I’ve always believed that healthcare is more than treatment; it’s about people. It’s about seeing every patient as a whole person with emotions, culture, and dignity, not just a diagnosis or a chart. That belief has grown from my values, experiences, and empathy, which have shaped who I am and who I hope to become as a future pediatric nurse and educator. In high school, I joined programs like PALs and WINGS, mentoring younger students and supporting them through academic and personal challenges. I saw firsthand that leadership means listening, understanding, and helping someone believe in themselves. Those lessons are at the heart of empathy. My faith and service experiences have also shaped my values. At my church’s community welfare department, I’ve spent countless hours helping families in need. One moment that stands out was when a young girl jumped with excitement after finding her favorite fruit snacks in the groceries we distributed. Her joy reminded me that small acts of care can make a lasting difference. That moment defined empathy to me, being aware of someone’s needs, even the ones unspoken, and responding with love and humanity. My work experience has strengthened these lessons even more. I earned my CNA certification and began working as a caregiver, assisting patients with daily needs and ensuring they felt safe and respected, and as a rehab aide assisting patients post surgery and managing lymphedema. These experiences taught me that healthcare is not just physical; it’s emotional. A patient’s healing depends as much on feeling heard and valued as it does on medication or treatment. To me, empathy is not just a feeling; it’s an action. It means choosing to slow down, listen, and respond to every patient's humanity. In my future career, I plan to approach healthcare through a human-centered lens by combining medical knowledge with compassion and cultural awareness. I want to bridge gaps in care for children in underserved communities, ensuring they receive treatment and education about their health so they can thrive long-term. What drives me is the belief that every child deserves to be cared for with dignity, patience, and hope. Healthcare is not just about saving lives; it’s about improving lives. I aspire to become a nurse and educator who advocates for children and families, listens to their stories, and works to ensure that no one feels invisible in the healthcare system. Empathy has shaped my path, and it will continue to guide how I lead, serve, and practice medicine. I plan to bring not just my skills, but my heart, into every patient interaction, because I believe that is what proper healthcare is all about.

If there’s one thing that defines me, it’s my passion for helping others. From taking care of my younger sisters and mentoring younger students, to volunteering at food banks and serving in my church’s community welfare department, I’ve learned that true purpose is found in service. Over the years, those experiences have shaped not only who I am but also the kind of career I want to pursue: a career in medicine, specifically as a pediatric nurse and educator. My journey toward healthcare started early, though I didn’t recognize it right away. As the oldest child in my family, I naturally became a caretaker, helping with homework, settling arguments, and being the one my younger siblings looked up to. That role grew beyond my family when I joined PALs and WINGS in high school, mentoring elementary and middle school students. I found so much joy in being someone they could trust and turn to for encouragement. It confirmed something I had always felt: I wanted to dedicate my life to children. When I earned my CNA certification in May and started working as a caregiver, everything clicked. Caring for patients, assisting with daily needs, supporting their recovery, and just listening showed me how much of a difference compassion makes in healing. I also work as a rehab aide at my mom’s physical therapy clinic, where I’ve helped patients recovering from joint replacements and those managing lymphedema. These experiences have exposed me to patient care and shown me how science, empathy, and trust come together in medicine. Outside of work, I’ve seen the power of service in my community. At local food banks and church outreach events, I’ve watched families light up with gratitude for something as simple as a bag of groceries. I’ll never forget the little girl who clapped her hands in excitement when she saw her favorite fruit snacks in the box we handed her family. That small moment reminded me that caring for others is not only about meeting physical needs, it’s about restoring joy and dignity. Through all these experiences, I’ve developed qualities that I know will help me in my medical career: resilience, compassion, and leadership. I’ve faced disappointments, like not making my high school volleyball team after years of dedication. But even in that setback, I found growth. I redirected my energy toward leadership in the high school ASO club, mentoring, and volunteering. That choice taught me how to adapt, stay motivated, and keep moving toward my goals, and lessons I will carry into my career in nursing. Looking ahead, I see myself working as a pediatric nurse in hospitals, schools, or underserved communities, where I can make healthcare accessible for children who need it most. But I also want to be an educator, teaching kids about their health and helping families feel confident in caring for their children. My dream is to bridge the gap between medicine and education, ensuring that children not only get treatment when they’re sick but also gain the knowledge and support to thrive. I believe I can make a positive impact on the world because I have lived my life with purpose, even in small ways. Every patient, every child, and every family I’ve served has shown me the power of kindness and care. Through my medical career, I want to keep creating those moments of hope, one life at a time.

The foundation of how I live, serve, and lead has been guided by my faith and knowledge of Christ, to be Christ-like, to ask myself, What would Christ do or want me to do? It guides my choices, how I treat others, and the confidence I have when I step into challenges. For me, leadership is not just about holding a title or giving directions; it’s about serving with humility, listening with compassion, and showing others what it means to lead by example. My Christian faith has shaped that perspective more than anything else. One of the ways I’ve lived this out is through my role as Vice President of the African Student Organization at my school. Leadership can be challenging, especially in high school when so many students are still finding their identities and place. But my faith taught me to approach leadership not as a position of power, but as an opportunity to lift others. I always work to make every member feel seen and valued, encouraging them to embrace their heritage and celebrate who they are. My goal has never been about standing out as the leader, but creating a space where others could shine. Another example of faith shaping my leadership has been through my volunteer work. I serve regularly at my church’s community welfare department, providing food and essentials to families in need. Faith reminds me that service is not just about meeting physical needs, but about offering hope and dignity. One Saturday, I helped load groceries into a family’s car, and their young daughter was excited when she saw her favorite fruit snacks inside the bag. Her joy over something so small reminded me of the deeper meaning of service: to show love in ways that restore hope. Moments like that confirm why I continue to serve, even when the work is demanding. Faith has also sustained me in times of disappointment. For years, volleyball was a huge part of my life, and I worked hard to make the high school team. When I didn’t make the cut, it felt devastating. But instead of staying discouraged, I leaned on my faith, trusting that God had a different plan for me. That setback pushed me to open my heart to new opportunities: mentoring students through PALs and WINGS, working as a CNA caregiver and rehab aide, and dedicating more time to serving in my community. Each of those doors would not have opened without the one that closed, and my faith gave me the strength to see that. Through every challenge, faith has taught me resilience and perspective. It has kept me grounded in my values, even when it would be easier to take shortcuts or focus only on myself. It has given me the courage to lead with kindness, to serve with joy, and to keep working toward my dream of becoming a pediatric nurse and educator. I know that my leadership will continue to grow as I grow in faith, because for me, the two cannot be separated. Faith doesn’t just impact my leadership, but defines it. It reminds me that true leadership is about service, compassion, and hope. That is the kind of leader I strive to be, and the kind of leader I believe I am becoming.

The personal achievement I’m most proud of isn’t a trophy or a medal, but t’s earning my CNA certification while still in high school at the age of 16. For me, it wasn’t just about passing a test or completing the training, as I had to take the practical portion of the exam twice; it was about proving to myself that I could take on a professional role, provide meaningful care, and balance it with the demands of being a full-time student, mentor, and volunteer. When I first signed up for the CNA program, I knew it would be challenging. I was committing to hours of training, clinical practice, and studying on top of my advanced coursework in school. At the same time, I served as Vice President of the African Student Organization, mentoring younger students through PALs and WINGS, volunteering at food banks and my church’s community welfare department, and working as a rehab aide at a physical therapy clinic. My schedule was full, but I knew this certification was a step toward my dream of becoming a pediatric nurse. The process wasn’t easy. There were days when I studied late into the night, then woke up early for school and clinicals, learning hands-on skills like taking vital signs, assisting patients with mobility, and providing personal care required focus and patience. It wasn’t just about memorizing steps, it was about understanding the dignity and trust involved in caring for another person. I remember my first patient during clinical rotations: an older woman recovering from surgery. She was nervous to shower, but I took my time, explained every step, and ensured she felt safe. That moment confirmed why I wanted to be in healthcare. Earning my CNA certification in May was more than a personal milestone for me, it was a turning point. It gave me the confidence to start working with real patients, applying what I learned in class to make a tangible difference in people’s lives. It also taught me discipline, time management, and resilience. Balancing school, work, and service wasn’t easy, but it showed me that I’m capable of more than I thought. This achievement has shaped how I approach my future. It exposed me early to the realities of healthcare, both the challenges and the rewards—and reinforced my commitment to becoming a pediatric nurse. It also connected my academic learning to my community service. The same care I give to patients is the same care I bring when I mentor a student, help a family at the food bank, or organize cultural events for my peers. What I’m most proud of isn’t just the CNA certification itself, it’s everything it represents: dedication, perseverance, and a ability to step out of my comfort zone to grow. It proves I can set a high goal, work toward it despite obstacles, and come out stronger on the other side. This achievement reminds me daily that the work I’m doing now is laying the foundation for the kind of nurse, educator, and community leader I want to be. And that’s something I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

Being part of a strong community has shown me that hope is more than an emotion; it’s an action. It results from people coming together with the shared belief that we can lift each other, even in small ways. My sense of hope for the future has been shaped by moments where connection, compassion, and joy all come together. One such moment happened while volunteering at my church’s community welfare department. It was a typical Saturday, boxes of groceries were being sorted, volunteers were coordinating, and families were waiting patiently in their cars. I was helping carry bags to a family’s vehicle when I saw a 7-year-old girl in the back seat. She had been sitting quietly, watching us work, until she noticed something among the groceries: a box of her favorite fruit snacks. In an instant, her whole face lit up. She jumped in her seat, clapped her hands, reminding me of my youngest sister when she is excited for her Nutella. It was such a small thing: fruit snacks in a grocery bag, but to her, it meant something special. In that moment, I realized that service is not only about meeting basic needs like food or shelter; it’s also about restoring moments of joy, dignity, and hope, especially for children. That small box of fruit snacks reminded me that hope is built in these little moments, and that the effort we put into caring for others goes far beyond what we can measure. That experience increased my commitment to serving others. I have since dedicated myself to various community roles, mentoring younger students through the PALs and WINGS programs at Allen ISD, working as a CNA caregiver and rehab aide, and volunteering at local food banks. Through each role, I’ve seen how connection and resilience are built through the consistent, everyday acts of showing up for others. Mentoring has been especially meaningful to me. In PALs and WINGS, I work with elementary and middle school students, helping them with homework, reading with them, and sometimes simply being a listening ear. These relationships have shown me that leadership isn’t about having all the answers, but it’s about being present, building trust, and encouraging others to believe in themselves. Working as a CNA caregiver and rehab aide has added another layer to my understanding of service. Caring for patients has taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of dignity in care. These lessons mirror what I have learned through volunteering: that every person matters, and how we treat others leaves a lasting impact. Being part of my community has also taught me resilience. Not every day of service is easy, as there are times when the needs feel overwhelming, when there’s more work to do than hands to do it. But in those moments, I’ve learned to focus on the difference I can make, however small. The smile of a child, the gratitude of a parent, or the relief in a patient’s eyes reminds me why I do this work. My community has given me more than a place to belong, it has given me purpose. It has shown me that leadership is about service, and that hope grows when people come together to care for one another. As I prepare for a career in pediatric nursing and education, I believe that even the smallest acts of kindness can bring hope to another person. If something as simple as a box of fruit snacks can spark joy for a child, then I know that every effort I make has the potential to make the world brighter.

When I think about the future, I don’t just see a job or a paycheck, I see lives I want to touch, children I want to help, and families I want to support. That’s why I’m working toward a career in pediatric medicine and education. Both paths allow me to work closely with children and make a real, lasting difference in their lives. I plan to use this career not just to care for others, but to bring hope and support where it’s needed most. My passion for helping children started at home. As the oldest child in my family, I’ve always had to step up and take care of my younger siblings. I’ve helped with homework, been there to listen, and tried to set a good example. Over time, I realized that I love being there for others, especially the younger kids. That sense of responsibility grew even stronger when I joined the PALs and WINGS programs at my high school. I mentor younger students, some of whom are dealing with hard situations, and I’ve seen how just being a steady, caring presence can make a big difference. Through these experiences, I learned that many children face challenges beyond the classroom, struggles with health, emotions, or family situations that affect how they learn and grow. That’s what led me to my dream of becoming a pediatrician and educator. I want to help children not only feel better physically, but also feel seen, heard, and safe. I believe kids need more than treatment; they need people who truly care. In my future career, I hope to work in hospitals, schools, or even lead community health programs. I want to support children in underserved areas, where resources can be limited and access to healthcare or education is harder to find. I plan to teach kids how to take care of their health, help them feel confident in their bodies, and support their learning every step of the way. Whether I’m answering questions in a clinic or helping a child understand how to stay healthy, I’ll be doing what I love, which is helping others. Volunteering has also played a big role in shaping this dream. I’ve spent time at food banks and my church’s community welfare department, giving out food and supplies to families in need. Seeing how much relief and joy something so simple can bring has shown me that real impact doesn’t always have to be huge; it just has to make a positive impact. That’s the kind of work I want to do, impact that’s honest, personal, and lasting. I know that my dream will take time, education, and effort. But I’m committed. I believe I was created to care for others, especially children. With this career, I don’t just want to make a living, I want to make a difference. I hope to be someone children and families can count on, someone who brings light into hard situations, and someone who helps others believe in brighter days. That’s how I plan to make a positive impact, and I’m ready to begin.

I’ve always believed that dreams are not just about where you want to go, but about who you want to become. My dream is to become a pediatric nurse and educator, someone who helps children feel safe, seen, and supported, whether it’s in a hospital room, a classroom, or their community. I believe I’m worth this dream because I’ve already spent years working toward it, not just through school, but through the way I live, serve, and lead every day. Being the oldest child in my family has taught me how to take care of others, even when it’s not easy. Whether I’m helping my siblings with homework, settling disagreements, or just being someone they can lean on, I’ve learned how important it is to be present, patient, and dependable. These lessons didn’t come from a textbook. They came from real life. And they’ve helped shape my heart for helping children in all kinds of settings. At school, I’ve had the chance to put this into action through the PALs and WINGS programs, where I mentor students in elementary and middle school. I’ve walked with students through academic challenges, emotional struggles, and even just the ups and downs of growing up. Sometimes, it’s not about solving problems—it’s about showing them they’re not alone. I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it can be to simply be there for someone. These experiences have made me more than just someone who wants to work with children—they’ve helped me become someone who can. I’m also very active in my community. I volunteer at local food banks and my church’s community welfare department, where we provide food and support to families who are struggling. One day, while helping load bags into a woman’s car, her daughter screamed in excitement when she saw that her favorite fruit snacks were part of the food items distributed that day. Her eyes lit up while bouncing up and down in her seat. I’ll never forget that moment because she reminded me of my younger sisters. It reminded me why I do what I do and why I want to keep doing it. I want to be the kind of person who helps others not just survive, but feel seen, heard, and valued. I’ve also taken on leadership roles that have helped me grow even more. As Vice President of the African Student Organization in Allen ISD, I help bring students together to celebrate our cultures, share our stories, and support one another. I’ve learned how to lead with purpose and pride, and how important it is to create space where people can feel proud of who they are. I know my dreams won’t come easy. Becoming a pediatric nurse and educator takes hard work, dedication, and time. But I’m willing to give it everything I’ve got, because it’s more than just a goal to me. It’s a calling. I believe I’m worth this dream because I’ve already started living it through the way I love, serve, and lead. With your support, I know I can take what I’ve already started and carry it even further, to help more children, families, and communities in need.

My name is Christina Balogun, and I’m a high school senior with a GPA above 3.0. I’m proud of the person I’ve become through leadership, sports, and community service. Each of these experiences has played a big part in shaping who I am and preparing me for the next step—college and a future career in pediatric nursing and education. From 5th to 9th grade, I played volleyball. I had morning practices and long games. Being part of a team taught me important lessons. I learned to stay focused, manage my time, and keep going even when things were hard. Volleyball helped me grow both mentally and physically. It showed me the value of working with others to reach a common goal. Whether we won or lost, we learned to support each other. That team spirit and resilience are something I carry with me in school, volunteer work, and everyday life. Outside of school commitments, I’ve always found purpose in serving others. I spend weekends and free time volunteering at local food banks and helping with the community welfare department at my church. There, we package and distribute food to families who are going through difficult times. It’s more than just handing out supplies, it’s about showing people that they’re not alone and that someone cares. One moment that stays with me is seeing kid so excited when we gave out boxes of her favorite fruit snacks on a distribution day. That moment reminded me that what seems small to one person can mean everything to another. I also mentor younger students through my school’s PALs and WINGS programs. I work with elementary and middle schoolers, reading and studying with them, helping with homework, and simply being a friend they can count on. I’ve learned how to listen better, be patient, and offer support without judgment. These experiences have confirmed that I want to keep working with kids, especially in places where they need extra help, care, and encouragement. In addition to volunteering and mentoring, I serve as the Vice President of the African Student Organization in Allen ISD. Through this group, I help celebrate African culture and give students with African heritage a place to connect and take pride in who they are. Being part of this leadership role has helped me grow more confident and proud of my background, and it’s helped me support others in doing the same. This scholarship would help me take a big step forward in my education journey without placing extra pressure on my family. More than that, it would give me the opportunity to keep pursuing my dream of becoming a pediatric nurse and educator, someone who makes a real difference in the lives of children and families. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity. I’m excited for what lies ahead and all the ways I hope to give back.

As the oldest child of four children in my family, I’ve naturally stepped into the role of a leader. I have since also learned that being a leader, isn’t just about telling people what to do; it’s about showing up, being responsible, and setting a good example. Since I was young, I’ve helped my younger siblings with homework and tried to be someone they could come to for advice and settle sibling misunderstandings. That role has helped me grow into someone who cares about others, especially kids. At my high school, I’m part of the PALs and WINGS programs, where I mentor students in elementary, middle and freshman high school. I talk and read with them, help with their schoolwork, while trying to be a friend they can trust. Being there for younger students has shown me how much of a difference one person can make. That’s why I want to become a pediatric nurse and an educator, because both careers allow me to work closely with children and support them as they grow. In my spare time, especially on the weekends, I spend time volunteering in my community. I help out at local food banks and with the community welfare department at my church, where we give out food and supplies to families in need. Volunteering has helped me understand that real change starts when we serve others with love. Something as simple as greeting with a big smile, while providing food and essentials can help families going through difficult times. At school, I serve as the Vice President of the African Student Organization in Allen ISD. where we focus on learning about and celebrating African culture. I’ve met other students who share similar backgrounds, and we’ve built a strong community. I am more confident and prouder of my heritage, by being part of this organization. I have also helped other students learn how to embrace their culture and heritage. I also had the chance to help with a research project at a physical therapy clinic. We studied how manual lymphatic drainage helps patients after joint replacement surgery. It was exciting to be part of something that helps people heal. That experience helped me see how healthcare works and made me even more interested in becoming a pediatric nurse. My dream is to work with children in hospitals, schools, or communities, especially where help is needed the most. I want to teach kids how to take care of their health and support them through tough times. I hope to be someone who brings comfort, encouragement, and real help to young lives. I believe I’m a great candidate for this scholarship because I’m hardworking, caring, and genuinely passionate about helping others. With your support, I will keep growing as a leader, mentor, and future healthcare professional, and continue making a difference one child, one family, and one community at a time.