In the future, I picture my future self being a partner to communities, aiding in the fundamental culture shifts needed to dramatically improve health outcomes, reducing inequities to those most in need.

My dream is to be part of a movement of clinicians that end the disparity in neurocognitive degeneration among African Americans. I want to bring equity into the aging process. I want to help a community maintain their inner strength while changing their environment so their full potential can be reached.

Serving elderly people in the community through social work has been a privilege. Sustained community service among the elderly granted access to a diverse client base, enabling me to grapple with complex psychosocial issues. As a geriatric social worker, daily responsibilities varied from assisting on Medicaid applications, addressing billing disputes, scheduling appointments, to arranging interpreters for non-English speakers. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. Through patience, rapport building and active listening, I effectively supported this vulnerable group of people. Teaching was an unexpected gift during my social work service. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated elderly clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. Further, I organized monthly seminars targeted for elderly community members addressing state-based Medicaid and SNAP programs (eligibility criteria, application strategy, appealing results, etc.). Collectively, I hope my service to the elderly community has made a difference, and I look forward to continue that service upon completion of my PhD.

Anytime nature comes to-mind, I think of my favorite Ansel Adams quote: “The whole world is, to me, very much 'alive' - all the little growing things, even the rocks. I can't look at a swell bit of grass and earth, for instance, without feeling the essential life - the things going on - within them." This poignant narrative encapsulates my feelings when I am amongst natural world: I am amongst diverse life; thus, I feel more alive. When engaged with nature, my cup runneth over. Nature has an ability to pull me away from the bricks and concrete of modernity and remind me not only the multiple ways life is ever-present, but how beautiful it can be. Towering trees, mass rock faces, vibrant flowers, peaceful quiet, gentle breezes; exposure to these phenomena are a reminder of the ways the world gifts itself to us and how it is our responsibly to find ways to appreciate those gifts. I try to appreciate these gifts in sustaining ways, whether that be through landscape photography, walks with my family, or exploring the outside with my children. Thus far, the most rewarding ways I have found to give back to nature are by capturing its beauty via photographs or being present to witness the wonderment of my children as they discover nature’s vast beauty and life. This reciprocal relationship between I and nature is one that I hope lasts for the rest of my life.

One of my favorite Mya Angelou quotes is: "My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.” However, this quote used it intimidate me due to preconceived notions of it’s meaning. I associated thriving passion with status and prestige. I associated passion and humor and Hollywood exclusivity. Did I need to be those things to leave a lasting legacy? It took me a long time to disseminate the intention of this quote from the hyper-individualistic society we inhabit. Part of that dissemination was reminding myself was that Mya Angelou was the antithesis of those notions listed above, which drew me to her in the first place! Keeping this in mind allowed me to contemplate the quote and decide what it means in my legacy pursuit. Here is what I decided: I want my legacy to be one of radical compassion and care for the most vulnerable in our communities. I want to aid in ending disparity and inequities that currently exist along the lines of race, gender, age, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status. Whether it’s clinical care, community resources, policy influence, or an empathetic ear, I want the most vulnerable to know I am on their side. I want this to be my legacy because of its alignment of those who came before me, who made sacrifices for me to thrive (Martin Luther King Jr., Shirley Chisholm, Malcom X, and many more). If I can do for others what these idols have done for me, that is a life worth lived; a legacy to be proud of.

“Give each dollar a job and ensure the job gets done,” a friend once said about money. I was in my early twenties and struggled to conceptualized what they meant, until years later when I started budgeting. I had previously thrown my nose up at the idea of budgeting. “What good would that do? Keeping track of one’s money makes no difference!” I realized years later that my attacks were defenses to mask my insecurity regarding money management. Prior to budgeting, I struggled to acknowledge my spending habits. I spent an excessive amount of fast food, food delivery, and made big last-minute purchases. I always paid bills on-time, but lacked structure to look beyond the next month. Furthermore, I knew intuitively my spending was undisciplined, but feared having that information on display would reflect negatively on my character. No excuses or qualifiers, just cold hard facts. I feared this possibility. However, after giving budgeting a chance, I realized just how empowering structure can be. Yes, I had to face my spending habits, but discovered the agency in saying, “How will I improve next month? Should I add a few extra dollars to certain areas because I know my behavior?” I learned the power of building an emergency fund and now have some security if I lack employment. I learned to power of a grocery budget or a personal budget to spend on whatever I want. I learned the power of saving for short-term and long-term purchases and no longer feel to need to make big financial decisions without serious consideration. Giving my money job through budgeting was the best financial decision I have made. It helped my money to work for me, not the other way around.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.” I take this quote to-heart every single day. I spend most of my life on an even plane: neither happy nor sad; simply even-keeled and constantly trying to move forward. I don't care of most personal gains. However, what makes my heart full is seeing happiness in others. There is nothing more fulfilling than seeing another person grow into themselves. Therefore, I have made is my mission to be a positive force than can encourage others. I make it a point to tell my daughter how hard she works, what a great great sister she is, and how much she continues to grow. I commend my young sons for learning to communicate, share, and take risks. I encourage my wife to continue her pursuits and extend my support to ensure her goals are met. I feel my encouragement can help instill stability and a positive self-concept amongst those I love. Beyond family, the same approach applies to other aspects of my life. I try to be a positive force to my colleagues and managers at work. I make time to listen to colleagues and patients when concerns (personal or professional) arise. If boundaries allow, I try to be an encouraging force to strangers having a tough day. My practice of encouragement has re-enforced the idea that kindness (with boundaries) costs nothing but a bit of time; and time I have plenty of. If I continue on this path of encouragement, I will hopefully live up to that Emerson quote to a life lived and lived well.

My goal of a PhD can be easily characterized as an exercise in persistence. Overjoyed with gratitude upon receipt of my graduate school acceptance letter, I reflected on the prior four years of consistent work, failures, and grit to get that letter. I am happy to share that perspective. After multiple school rejections, bolstering my profile became primary. I lacked research experience, so I reached out to any psychology professor in the department at the University of Minnesota, asking if they were willing to take on a volunteer. I eventually landed in the lab I would end up with for three years. Here, I was published as a first-author, presented research at a national conference, and gained invaluable experience in the world of research. This opportunity laid the foundation for my first full-time research position, where I also published, presented at a national conference, and gained invaluable experience with neurocognitive assessments. Collectively, these experiences and my persistence helped forge a path to that acceptance letter. While eternally grateful for those who positioned me to succeed, I give myself credit for my persistent self-assessment, transparency, willingness to accept help, and readiness to bolster my profile. Without, my own persistence, I wouldn’t have gotten this far. I take this understanding into my PhD program. While my educational pursuit will be certainly be challenging, I have faith my continued persistence will carry me though those challenges, and am excited to where this journey takes me.

I find it ironic the impact joy has played in my life and the central role important role it has taken during the last two years. Many would agree that with COVID-19, ugly national elections, increases in hate crimes, and mass civil rights protests, joy would have no place; at least, that was my initial thought. I was in Minneapolis the Summer of George Floyd’s murdered, I watched the footage and felt the anger, fear, and hopelessness like many. As a black man, the weighted pressure to protect myself and my children was omnipresent. I was sorrow. However, that changed with a car ride. Through some strange fate, I found myself in the middle of a confrontation between protesters and police; Molotov cocktails, rubber bullets, smoke grenades, chants, sirens. I first thought that came to mind was: This is what happens when hope and sorrow have no way forward. Amongst the chaos of that moment, I had clarity: I had to maintain joy. I had no solutions for fixing society, but I knew maintaining my joy would be central to being the best husband, father, and student I could be. Joy evolved into a new definition: It was rebellion; it was maintaining connection; it was finding that grain of hope where hopelessness dominates. Since then, I have been guided by that definition. I take nature walks with family and read to my children every day. I continue landscape photography. My wife and I have “dates” in our kitchen while our children sleep. I re-engaged with my social work clients and made sure they were stable and thriving. Though I wish for different outcomes the last few years, I am thankful for the lesson learned and actions I have taken. I will continue using joy as my guide.

I am a black man from a majority white state. My upbringing brought challenges; chief among them were demands that I assimilate to social norms and be an example of what a “good” black person is, frequently ignoring the struggles and history others like me had endured. This chronic lack of empathy came with frequent feelings of self-doubt, isolation, and anger towards myself. Was I worth being seen? Was I fully human? For many years, these insecurities caused a chronic recoil from society for fear of being seen is less-than. However painful my early experiences were, things began to shift during college. My first time away from home, I saw black faces like mine, but there were diverse! The language, the style, and outlooks: all diverse! The most beautiful thing about these people was the confidence they exuded. Not only were they black, but they were proud, kind, and not afraid to speak about their beliefs. They were the antithesis of everything I was forced to learn: They're skin color didn't impede their genius, kindness, and ability to speak their mind. I wanted to be like them! Since then, I have made it my mission to speak my mind. I have worked in clinical jobs that require honesty with clients, and have consistently been part of speaking engagements. Speaking my mind means gaining back confidence that was lost in my youth. Speaking out means accessing more parts of myself that make me great. Speaking out means inspiring others who felt like I once did, sparking positive change. My commitment to speaking honestly is rooted in the motivation to serve others. The more I speaking honestly, the more I can inspire others, and the more likely positive change can happen for those in need. That is the hope.

When I first graduated with my masters, I didn’t find full-time work for months. With a spouse and a toddler to care for, waiting for a dream job was not an option. So, I worked day-labor and during application season. It was easily the most grueling, back-breaking work I had ever done; multiple days involved coming home limping in pain. 12-hour-days of dishwashing; 10-hour-days of packing steel bars; 8-hour-days of dome-building! Equally bruising was the fact all those jobs were minimum wage. On a good day, I made $85. I had a moment of shame and embarrassment, until I realized how lucky I was to be in my circumstances. Painful or not, I knew this was a temporary situation; for many people, this was their 9-to-5. This was their life. Further, grueling as the work was, it helped put food on our table. It was the first time I truly felt gratitude for people and situations that gave me a chance to survive. Since that time of struggle, my life was been filled with beautiful souls who gave a helping hand when they didn’t need to: an established professor giving me lab hours and helping apply to graduate school; a supervisor who lifted my spirits after another school rejection; countless friend who provided meals, drinks, laughter, hugs, and advice when needed. I live with gratitude by holding these specific moments close, thankful for each interaction, thankful for each moment of care and love. I have gratitude because these moments didn’t need to happen, but did anyways. For the rest of my life, I will try and give back what was given to me, hopefully passing on the gratitude to another person in need.

When I first entered a room with someone suffering from suicidal ideation and depression, I was terrified. Here I was, fresh out of graduate school for social work, with a rosy picture of what serving the vulnerable looked like. This patient instantly put my silly dreams to rest. I felt genuine fear; fear of making symptoms worse; fear of being in-effective; fear of not being the provider this patient needed. It took some time before realizing how self-centered I was being, how I was putting my patient’s needs last. I hear this often in healthcare among many professionals-myself included-who center themselves in the middle of a problem, make themselves primary characters of another person’s story, and fail to serve the patient effectively. One practical thing anyone can do when serving those with mental health struggles is: Be present. Be present with the discomfort, hurt, and anguish that person is enduring. Being present doesn’t take one’s own discomfort away. The patient won’t be fixed and you won’t instantly have a solution. And that’s the point: To be present is to acknowledge what has occurred was/is real, painful, serious, and worthy of attention and deep exploration. It's foundation-building. When you’re present, you accept the problems in front of you have existed long before your arrival, releasing pressure to have the “perfect” solution. When I became present, I truly started hearing my patients, empathized with their struggles, and de-centered myself in their story while taking my place as a guide with knowledge and resources to help the patient get better. Mental health-is complicated and messy, and this is one step in an ever-winding puzzle of health and wellness. However, I believe the act of being present plays a major foundation getting people the mental health assistance they deserve.

My work serving others has shaped my fascination of the interplay between environment, clinical health, and cognition. Specifically, my current focus gears toward the role disparities have in exacerbating diminished clinical and neurocognitive health outcomes of minorities. How do racism and systemic disparity affect long-term cognitive health of older minority groups? Are those negative environmental impacts reflected in rates of arterial stiffness, p-tau, and b-amyloid levels among patients? What moderators exist to counter these negative impacts? With time and guidance, I look forward to answering these questions in graduate school. My long-term goals involve becoming a community based clinical neuropsychologist. I want to perform clinical work with at-risk populations, research, and educate the next generation of helpers. By doing all three, I can best serve my community by being accessible, providing research opportunities for locals, and serve as a bridge for those who require health education to serve others. A true paradigm shift requires a commitment to one's community, commitment to gathering of knowledge, and a commitment to exchange that knowledge with others. With my goal, I become part of a movement that aims to have lasting positive impacts on the long-term health of vulnerable communities.

I have been pursing graduate school acceptance for years. On top of work and family, I took extra time to volunteer at research labs. I have some blemishes on my records, but had this feel that clinical psychology PhD is the next step in my evolution. So, I have pursued every opportunity one could fathom to build up my resume. I have writing experience, publications, clinical experience, and a respected community service record. I am ready! This year, I finally received that elusive acceptance letter! "Dear Mr. Williams, we are pleased to acceptance you into Howard University's Clinical Psychology program." I'm over the moon! Finally, my hard work has paid off! Finally, I can take that next step. However, after my brief euphoria, reality sets in: How will I pay for this? Is funding guaranteed? Will I win those extremely competitive national fellowships I applied for? Do I seriously need to take out another loan? How can I afford to live in DC? $1,000 extra would be rent money. It would be our 1-month grocery budget for my family-of-five. $1,000 would be a extra money towards our emergency fund or a means to paid down student loan debt. That's money that can be put towards a down-payment for a house or a college fund for my children. $1,000 extra symbolizes possibility, a moment of respite from the stress of living between paychecks. Any funding I get-that could lessen this stress-Is something I would gladly accept.

My research and community service experiences have shaped my fascination of the interplay between environment, clinical health, and cognition. Specifically, my current focus gears toward the role disparities have in exacerbating diminished clinical and neurocognitive health outcomes of minorities. How do racism and systemic disparity affect long-term cognitive health of older minority groups? Are those negative environmental impacts reflected in rates of arterial stiffness, p-tau, and b-amyloid levels among patients? What moderators exist to counter these negative impacts? With time and guidance, I look forward to answering these questions in graduate school. My long-term goals involve becoming a community based clinical neuropsychologist. I want to perform clinical work with at-risk populations, research, and educate the next generation of helpers. By doing all three, I can best serve my community by being accessible, providing research opportunities for locals, and serve as a bridge for those who require health education to serve others. A true paradigm shift requires a commitment to one's community, commitment to gathering of knowledge, and a commitment to exchange that knowledge with others. With my goal, I become part of a movement that aims to have lasting positive impacts on the long-term health of vulnerable communities.

I am a black man from a majority white state. My upbringing brought challenges; chief among them were demands that I assimilate to social norms and be an example of what a “good” black person is, frequently ignoring the struggles and history others like me had endured. This chronic lack of empathy came with frequent feelings of self-doubt, isolation, and anger towards myself. Was I worth being seen? Was I fully human? Fortunately, these challenges strengthened my yearning to help the vulnerable and bolstered my resolve to engage with communities different from mine. As a social worker, most of my clients have differed in terms of their culture, language, political affiliation, sexual orientation, and mental/physical capacities. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. My consistent point is this: We don't need to be the same to help each; the more I more I can empathize, the more I can help. Through empathy and community service with vulnerable populations, I realized my mission must be to a) find ways to better serve those most in need b) educate those who provide the service in the first place, creating a longer-lasting impact. As I pursue the study of cognitive impairment in older adults, remembering my past serves as a reminder that my quest for knowledge is not only self-fulfilling, but a means of building healthy, supported, and thriving communities. Empathy can be a major puzzle piece in lifting up communities, and I plan to continue this practice for the rest of my professional and personal life.

My acts of service have occurred through years of community practice, granting access a diverse client base and grappling with complex psychosocial issues. Most of my clients have differed in terms of culture, language, political affiliation, sexual orientation, and mental/physical capacities. As a social worker, daily responsibilities varied from assisting on Medicaid applications, addressing billing disputes, scheduling appointments, to arranging interpreters for non-English speakers. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. The issues brought to my desk each day were as complex as the people I served, but I am grateful for the experience and lessons learned. Teaching others was also an unexpected service I never thought would occur. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. As an social work instructor, I mentored medical staff about systemic racism in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and troubleshot healthier ways to approach diverse populations. Whether it's addressing mental health crises, locating community resources, or teaching other, I have seen the myriad varies acts of service can arise. Moreover, all have a common theme: empowering the people in need of help. This is my goal. No matter my title or credentials, I will continue to aid people and help empower them to lead happier, healthier lives. Thanks for your consideration.

My collective experience in research and community service have shaped my fascination with the interplay between environment, clinical health, and cognition. Specifically, my current focus gears toward the role disparities have in exacerbating diminished cardiovascular and neurocognitive health outcomes of minorities. I have many questions: How do racism and systemic disparity affect long-term cognitive health of older minority groups? Are those negative environmental impacts reflected in rates of arterial stiffness, p-tau, and b-amyloid levels among patients? If so, what moderators exist to counter these results? I hope to find answers while completing my PhD in Clinical Psychology. My ultimate professional goal is to be a community clinical neuropsychologist, serving at-risk aging populations and researching biopsychosocial factors related to cognitive performance. This job will be a perfect inspection of my two primary interests: social justice and cognitive health. Service of others is something I have incorporated into my life on a personal and professional level. Years of community practice granted access a diverse client base, enabling me to grapple with complex psychosocial issues while also bolstering my capacity for rapport building with individuals from disparate populations. I counsel patients in crises, explored community resources, and guided patients through complex medical, community and government systems. Teaching others was also an unexpected gift during my service. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. Further, I mentored medical staff about systemic racism in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and troubleshooted healthier ways to approach diverse populations. These experiences reinforced the vital roles each personal in the system plays. It is not only the patient that must be aided, but the doctors, nurses, policy maker, and other service members is well. I want to serve as that bridge that brings others together and make a healthier society. My idea of impacting social change is not only being of service, but taking past pain and making positive change. I am a black man from a majority white state. My upbringing brought challenges; chief among them were demands that I assimilate to social norms and be an example of what a “good” black person is, frequently ignoring daily struggles others like me had endured. However, these challenges reinforced my desire to aid the vulnerable and bolstered my resolve to engage with institutions that exacerbate negative health outcomes in minority communities. As I pursue a study of cognitive health, my past reminds me this quest for knowledge is not self-serving, but a catalyst for serving the vulnerable while also better equipping the next generation of helpers.

I am a black man from a majority white state with a passion for helping others. My upbringing brought challenges; chief among them were demands that I assimilate to social norms and be an example of what a “good” black person is, frequently ignoring the struggles and history others like me had endured. However, through these cruel and selfish acts committee towards myself, I doubled down on living a selfless life. These challenges strengthened my desire to aid the vulnerable and bolstered my resolve to engage with health, community, and governmental institutions that can exacerbate negative health outcomes in vulnerable communities. Multiple volunteer and professional roles further clarified my role in society and my responsibility to a) better serve the vulnerable people most in need b) better educate those who provide the service in the first place. As I pursue the study of cognitive impairment in older adults, remembering my past serves as a reminder that my quest for knowledge is not only self-fulfilling, but a means of sharing the knowledge gained to help build healthy, supported, and thriving communities.

My commitment towards equality and diversity can be shown through my sustained community service, which granted access to a diverse client base, enabling me to grapple with complex psychosocial issues while also bolstering my capacity for rapport building with individuals from disparate populations. Most of my clients have differed in terms of their culture, language, political affiliation, sexual orientation, and mental/physical capacities. As a social worker, daily responsibilities varied from assisting on Medicaid applications, addressing billing disputes, scheduling appointments, to arranging interpreters for non-English speakers. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. Through patience, rapport building and active listening, I effectively supported vulnerable people needing help. Teaching others was an unexpected gift during my service. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. As a social worker, I organized monthly seminars for community members addressing state-based Medicaid and SNAP programs (eligibility criteria, application strategy, appealing results, etc.). Further, I mentored medical staff about systemic racism in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and troubleshot healthier ways to approach diverse populations. Progress towards true equality and diversity is a slow, frustrating slog that always seems to be a few steps behind disparity. However, I have found through small-group seminars and one-on-one conversations, I help people come one step closer towards a better future. I will continue to that fight as I move forward in my education.

Ironically, much of my optimism has occurred in dire moments when people were struggling. As social worker, my capacity of rapport building played a vital role when helping clients grapple with complex psychosocial issues. I counseled patients enduring mental health crises, helped clients attain emergency food and shelter, and aided those fleeing domestic violence. Though these interactions were frequently clunky and uncomfortable, I always recognized the mutual good-will between myself and those I served. These moments made me optimistic that despite current circumstances, there are good people in this world that want to help others. No ulterior motives. Just help for help’s sake. Teaching has been another unexpected source of my optimism. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. My brain-injured clients-who previously struggled to cope with their new health issue-found solace and community in the group. Further, I mentored medical staff about systemic racism in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and troubleshot healthier ways to approach diverse populations. Through dissemination of information, I helped others better themselves or the lives of others. Information, if used correctly, can change lives of those who are struggling. As a future educator and researcher, this gives me hope. In conclusion, I have more optimism than I ever thought I would. Through the traumas, struggles, and emergencies I have witnessed, there has also been growth, kindness, and good-will towards those who suffer. I keep these thoughts close on my darkness days, and will continue to do so in my mission to aid those who struggle.

I am a social worker at heart. Sustained community service granted access to a diverse client base, enabling me to grapple with complex psychosocial issues while also bolstering my capacity for rapport building with individuals from disparate populations. Most of my clients have differed in terms of their culture, language, political affiliation, sexual orientation, and mental/physical capacities. As a social worker, daily responsibilities varied from assisting on Medicaid applications, addressing billing disputes, scheduling appointments, to arranging interpreters for non-English speakers. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. Through patience, rapport building and active listening, I effectively supported vulnerable people needing help. Teaching others was an unexpected gift during my service. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. As a social worker, I organized monthly seminars for community members addressing state-based Medicaid and SNAP programs (eligibility criteria, application strategy, appealing results, etc.). Further, I mentored medical staff about systemic racism in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and troubleshooted healthier ways to approach diverse populations. I valued these experiences and know they will serve me well as I pursue my PhD in clinical psychology.

I am a father of three, married, and a clinical PhD applicant attempting to get into a five-year program after three years of rejection letters. It’s safe to say the most important aspects of my life involve consistent levels of patience. My children are seven and under, meaning they are still trying to figure life out. Outbursts happen. Toys are fought over. Tears are frequent. Patience allows me to be a rock, a voice of reason so my children can have a model for how to react to life’s inevitable peaks and valleys. Through patience, I want to show my children that life isn’t about avoiding trouble, but knowing how to react when trouble occurs. It’s still a work in progress, but we try. Patience is a cornerstone of my marriage. Though its prevalence varies depending on the day or situation, it is always necessary. Patience allows me to hear my wife when sharing her concerns, insecurities, and frustrations. Patience allows me to see her beauty and love even when she is not the best version of herself. I would like to think my patience has a reciprocal effect; I give some, and she gives some. It’s still a work in progress, but we try. Lastly, I am a PhD applicant in a competitive field with high rejection rates. After three years of ‘no’ letters, patience has been the driving force helping me to build and improve, rather than retreat into bitterness. It has paid off, as I was recently accepted to my first PhD program. The most important aspects of my life require patience. I am far from perfect, but know without exercising patience, I would be worse for it. Like most parts of my life, it’s still a work in progress, but I try.

I cannot speak about my love of community service without addressing my love of the human brain. My passion for community service began as a case manager with two homeless clients suffering from traumatic brain injuries. Intrigued by how people with a similar diagnosis could vary in presentation, I knew I wanted to better conceptualize those distinctions with further education. I believed the better I understood the functioning of those I served, the better I could help people meet their needs. Subsequent work with other populations expanded my interests in the role of injury grade, location, biomarkers, and genetics in the identification of meaningful differences among those suffering from cognitive impairment. Further, my social work background prompted consideration of how environmental factors such as homelessness or food instability support or exacerbate cognitive impairment. My curiosity persists and drives me to gain the expertise needed for a deeper examination of environment, clinical health, and cognitive performance. I hope to continue this pursuit while attaining my PhD in graduate school. It is my belief that serving one's community ensures your position as a stakeholder in that community, having personal ties that not only sustain trust among your peers, but can lead to needed positive change. Sustained community service gained me exposure to very diverse groups of people with complicated problems. As a social worker, my daily responsibilities varied from assisting on Medicaid applications, addressing billing disputes, scheduling appointments, or arranging interpreters for non-English speakers. I arranged housing, delivered food boxes, and provided rides to food shelves for emergent needs. I counseled clients during major depressive episodes and bouts with suicidal ideation. Through patience, rapport building and active listening, I successfully supported our most vulnerable citizens. Years of community service highlighted the power of systems and the role I played in helping clients navigate these systems for optimal health outcomes. I still feel that immense responsibility to help ensure people get what they need in order to thrive. Community service has also brought the unexpected gift of teaching to my life. As a brain injury group facilitator, I educated clients about brain injury severity, common symptoms, and coping strategies to address cognitive issues. Alternatively, I organized monthly seminars for community members addressing state-based Medicaid and SNAP programs (eligibility criteria, application strategy, appealing results, etc.). I also mentored medical staff about systemic disparities in medicine, its impact on minority groups, and healthier ways to approach diverse populations. Collectively, my experiences displayed a recurring theme: Teaching leads to empowerment of the learner. Through clinical work and scholarship, I hope my actions will lead to the following: 1. The further empowerment of disenfranchised communities to ensure their needs are being met 2. The empowerment of helping professionals to better aid communities unlike their own through increased empathy and honest self-reflection 3. The empowerment of both entities to work in tandem to progress clinical and cognitive outcomes of the disenfranchised communities. When completing my education, I continue to relay that information to the communities I serve, empowering them become more resilient, supportive, and healthier. My collective experiences have shaped my fascination with environment, clinical health, and cognition. Specifically, I want to assess vascular risk factors of neurodegeneration and their correlation with chronic environmental stressors (systemic disparities, reported discrimination, etc.). I was recently accepted into graduate school for clinical psychology where my focus will involve neuropsychological aspects of vascular degeneration, cognition and their relation to chronic environmental stressors. Once completed, my actions to involve clinical work with vulnerable communities, research, and the education of community members, policy writers, and other providers to better aide those they are meant to serve. I believe knowledge is best utilized when it is shared amongst the masses to further their health and well-being. With the help of this scholarship, I can ensure my pursuit of knowledge and community service remain the central goal of my education. Thank you for your consideration.