My name is Leah Cox, and I am currently a sophomore at Northwest Missouri State University majoring in sports and news media. I am a first-generation college student from Gladstone, Missouri, and my journey to this point began with the loss of my father, Christopher Cox. When I was 11 years old, my dad passed away from cancer. What made his passing even more difficult was learning that he had hidden his diagnosis for over a year. He didn’t tell us because he didn’t want his kids to worry. That was who he was — selfless to his core. Even while carrying the weight of his illness, he carried it quietly so we could keep being kids for as long as possible. Though cancer defined the end of his life, it never defined him. My dad loved motorcycles. Some of my favorite memories are of him picking me up from school on his bike and letting me ride on the back on it with my butterfly helmet. I can still remember holding onto him as we drove, the wind rushing past us, feeling completely safe because I was with him. Those rides were just one of the thousands of memories we shared. Although some were scared of his hardcore biker persona, he is the sweetest man I have ever met. If I’d had a bad day at school, whether it was friendship drama or just feeling overwhelmed, he would sneak me out late at night without telling anyone. Just the two of us would drive to the 24-hour McDonald’s and go through the drive-thru for an ice cream cone, his always had to be chocolate dipped. We would sit there in the quiet car, eat ice cream under the glow of the parking lot lights and we would listen. He didn’t always try to fix things, he just made me feel heard. Those late-night runs weren’t about the ice cream — they were about comfort, about knowing that no matter how small my problems seemed, they mattered to him. At the time of his death, I was living with him full-time along with my one of my sisters. Losing him meant losing my home, my stability and the person who made me feel safest in the world. Overnight, everything changed. I moved back in with my mom, and while I was grateful to have her, the emotional and financial transition was overwhelming for our family. As a single parent who never attended college, my mom did everything she could, but navigating grief and uncertainty forced me to grow up quickly. Losing my dad changed the trajectory of my life, but it also shaped my resilience. Watching him carry his illness quietly taught me strength. Even when he was hurting, he made space for motorcycle rides and ice cream runs. He showed me what it means to love and endure hardship without surrendering hope. As a first-generation college student, I have had to navigate higher education largely on my own. I taught myself how to complete FAFSA, apply for scholarships and register for classes. I have taken out loans and worked multiple jobs to afford tuition and living expenses. There are moments when the weight of responsibility feels overwhelming, but quitting has never been an option. My father didn’t give up and neither will I. Today, I serve as the assistant sports editor for my university’s student newspaper, where I focus on sharing underrepresented voices in athletics. My dream is to build a career in sports media that highlights stories of perseverance and strength — qualities I understand deeply.

Some of my earliest memories are of me lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling while the rest of the house slept. The shadows on my bedroom walls felt alive, stretching and shifting in the dark. I would hold my breath, convinced someone was standing just outside my door, waiting for the moment I let my guard down. Even as a child, my body never seemed to believe it was safe. I didn’t have the language then to describe anxiety. I only knew that my mind was always racing, preparing for things that hadn’t happened yet. That feeling followed me into every stage of my life, growing quieter at times, louder at others — but never fully leaving. When I was 11 years old, my father died from stage 4 cancer. I had been living with him full time, so his death shattered the world I knew. Along with losing my dad, I lost my home, my routines, and my sense of stability. I moved back in with my mother, who was already doing everything she could to support my siblings. Grief didn’t come all at once — it lingered. It settled into my chest and became intertwined with the anxiety I had carried since childhood. As I grew older, I became skilled at hiding it. I learned how to function while feeling constantly on edge. I overworked myself, stayed busy and convinced myself that if I kept moving, I wouldn’t have to feel everything underneath. However, anxiety has a way of demanding attention. Recently, the stress of school, finances and responsibility manifested physically in the form of anxiety-induced rashes. My body was telling me what my mind had tried to ignore for years: something had to change. That moment became a turning point. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and began medication. Choosing to seek help felt vulnerable, but it also felt brave. For the first time, I stopped trying to outwork my anxiety and started learning how to live with it in healthier ways. Medication, paired with grounding techniques, structured routines and realistic expectations, gave me the space to breathe again. Even with anxiety as a constant companion, I never stopped moving toward my goals. I am a first-generation college student at Northwest Missouri State University, majoring in Sports and News Media with a minor in Public Relations. There was no roadmap for me — no one to explain FAFSA forms, class registration or how to balance tuition with car insurance and groceries. I learned by doing. I work seasonal jobs, deliver for DoorDash and lived frugally to stay enrolled. On the hardest days, anxiety tells me I don't belong here. I keep going anyway. Journalism gives my anxiety direction. As a reporter and assistant sports editor for The Northwest Missourian, I channel nervous energy into purpose. I focus on telling stories that matter, especially those surrounding women’s athletics. In a male-dominated field, my voice sometimes shakes — but I use it. Writing, editing and leading do not silence my anxiety, but they coexist with it. This work keeps me grounded. It keeps me moving forward. Ella’s story resonates with me because she fought fiercely through battles many never saw. She kept striving, creating, and loving despite immense internal struggles. That fighting spirit mirrors my own journey — one defined not by perfection, but by persistence. My recovery is ongoing. I continue to manage my anxiety through medication, structure and self-awareness. I have learned that asking for help is not a weakness, and rest is not failure. Recovery, for me, means choosing myself even when it’s uncomfortable — and committing to growth, one day at a time. Education is not just a goal; it is proof that anxiety does not get the final say in my future. I am building a life rooted in resilience, purpose and compassion. By continuing forward — despite fear, despite setbacks — I hope to honor Ella’s legacy and show that strength can exist alongside struggle.

This spring, I attended the Missouri College Media Conference with The Northwest Missourian, where I work as the assistant sports editor. Surrounded by other student journalists from across the state, I spent the day learning from industry professionals, sharing ideas with peers and gaining new skills to bring back to our newsroom. Experiences like this remind me why I chose this path and how important it is to take every opportunity to grow. I grew up in Kansas City and my path to higher education hasn’t been easy. When I was 11, my dad passed away from stage 4 cancer. The loss was devastating, and it left my family in a tough financial position. My mom has always been my biggest supporter, but without the ability to help me pay for school, I’ve had to take on that responsibility myself through financial aid, loans and part-time work. Now, I’m a first generation college student at Northwest Missouri State University, where I am a junior majoring in Sports and News Media. At The Northwest Missourian, I focus on covering female athletes and making sure their stories are told. I’ve seen how often women’s achievements in sports are overlooked compared to men’s, and I believe changing that starts with telling their stories with the same energy, detail and respect. Sports have always been more than just a game to me. They build confidence, create community and teach you how to push through challenges. I want to use my career to amplify the voices of women in sports — from high school standouts to professional athletes — so that young girls can see what’s possible for them. Outside of school, I work to help cover tuition and living expenses. Balancing my job, academics and my work at the paper has taught me discipline and time management. It’s also shown me that growth doesn’t happen by accident — it comes from putting yourself in spaces where you can learn, connect and improve. That’s why I take every opportunity I can, whether it’s attending a media conference, covering a challenging story or seeking feedback from editors and professors. In the future, I hope to work as a sports journalist at a major outlet, using my platform to highlight women’s sports at every level and challenge the outdated narratives that have kept women in the shadows of media coverage. Beyond reporting, I want to mentor young women entering the field, helping them navigate challenges and build confidence in their voices. Representation isn’t just about the athletes — it’s also about who’s telling their stories. This scholarship would help me continue my education without the constant weight of financial stress. More importantly, it would show that others believe in my mission to create lasting change for women in sports media. My career goal is simple but powerful: to make sure women are seen, heard and celebrated for their achievements. Because when women’s stories are told, their impact goes far beyond the game — it inspires the next generation to dream bigger, push harder and believe they belong.

My name is Leah Cox, and I am currently a sophomore at Northwest Missouri State University majoring in sports and news media. I’m a first-generation college student from Gladstone, Missouri. While my story is not without struggle, it’s also one of determination, growth and deep gratitude for every opportunity I’ve fought to earn. My path to college didn’t begin with an acceptance letter. It started with loss. When I was 11 years old, my father died from stage 4 cancer. At the time, I was living with him full time, so his death meant more than just losing a parent — it meant losing the home and stability I knew. After he passed, I had to move back in with my mom. And while I was grateful to have a place to go, it was a difficult transition emotionally and financially. My parents were divorced, and my mom was already struggling to support my siblings. She has always loved and supported me the best she could, but she wasn’t in a position to help me financially with college. And having never attended herself, she couldn’t guide me through the process either. Navigating higher education was something I had to figure out largely on my own. But even in those uncertain years, I held on to the belief that I could create something different for myself. That belief wasn’t built on stability or wealth — it was built on resilience. Being a first-generation college student means facing obstacles that many others don’t. I didn’t grow up touring college campuses or talking about majors at the dinner table. I had to teach myself how to apply for FAFSA, register for classes and find housing. I’ve taken out loans, applied for countless scholarships and picked up every job I could to help pay for tuition and living expenses. Nothing about this experience has been easy, but every step has taught me how to advocate for myself, push through fear and trust in my ability to figure things out. Currently, I work as the assistant sports editor for The Northwest Missourian, our university’s student newspaper. Before that, I served as a sports reporter. Journalism has become more than just a career path for me — it’s a way to make a difference. I use my platform to highlight women’s athletics, which are so often underrepresented or overlooked entirely. As a woman in sports media, I’ve seen firsthand how difficult it can be to break into the industry. Coverage of men’s sports dominates headlines, airtime and resources, leaving female athletes in the shadows. I’ve made it my mission to change that, starting here on my campus. My dream is to become a sports reporter or producer who focuses on covering women’s sports at the collegiate and professional levels. I want to write the stories that don’t get told. I want to sit courtside at women’s games and bring their talent and tenacity to light. Whether through print, video or digital content, I want to play a role in building a more equitable future for sports media. When girls watch sports coverage, they deserve to see athletes — and reporters — who look like them. Northwest Missouri State has been the foundation for that vision. It’s where I learned to write, report, edit and produce. But more importantly, it’s where I learned that even someone like me — someone without family connections or a financial safety net — can thrive when given the chance. I’ve built a strong academic record, maintained over a 3.5 GPA and made connections with mentors and peers who believe in my potential. I’ve taken on leadership roles, contributed to campus media and never shied away from working long hours if it meant getting one step closer to my goals. But none of this has come without sacrifice. Paying for college as a first-generation student with no financial support from family is incredibly difficult. I’ve worked seasonal jobs, like at Worlds of Fun, and delivered for DoorDash to afford necessities like groceries, rent, textbooks and gas. I live frugally, constantly budget and pick up freelance work whenever I can. Scholarships like the Alberta Bean Memorial Scholarship are not just helpful — they’re life-changing. Receiving this support would ease a tremendous burden and allow me to keep my focus on school and work without constantly worrying about whether I can afford to return next semester. College isn’t just important to me — it’s my future. It’s the foundation for everything I’m building: a career in journalism, a platform to uplift others and a legacy I hope inspires my younger siblings and future generations of students like me. I am not just working toward a degree — I’m working to break cycles of financial hardship and limited opportunity. I want to be the first in my family to walk across the stage, not only with a diploma in hand, but with the knowledge that I made it happen through hard work, sacrifice and relentless determination. Alberta Bean’s story resonates with me in many ways. She was a woman who faced hardship but gave everything she had to provide a better life for her family. Like Alberta, my mom has done everything in her power to help her kids succeed, despite never having the chance to pursue higher education herself. And like Alberta, I am working every day to ensure that my family’s story doesn’t end with struggle — it continues with strength, education and progress. This scholarship would not only provide financial relief, but it would also serve as a symbol of faith in my journey. It would tell me that my ambition and drive matter. That my work is making a difference. That my future, despite the odds, is worth investing in. Thank you for considering my application and for honoring the legacy of Alberta Bean by supporting first-generation students like me. I will continue to carry that legacy forward — with purpose, resilience and an unwavering commitment to making an impact.

For me, storytelling has the power to connect people and give a voice to those who struggle to speak up or go unnoticed. As a Christian sports writer, I’ve seen how stories can make a difference — not just focusing on victories and losses, but by highlighting the athletes and their stories. My writing isn’t always about faith or religion, but being a Christian influences the way I approach the stories I write. I focus on the human side of sports. In one of my recent feature stories, I highlighted how faith impacts student athletes both on and off the field. I got to talk to athletes that practice different forms of Christianity, and share how that has had a positive impact. But more often, I find meaning in telling the quieter stories — the ones about injuries, doubts, setbacks and the moments that test an athlete’s character when no one is watching. These are the stories that stick with me the most — the ones that show athletes are people first, going through a lot of the same ups and downs the rest of us do. Sometimes faith is part of that story, sometimes it’s not, but I always try to approach it with honesty and heart. I want to give athletes the chance to tell their stories in their own words and help others see them for more than just what they do on the field. Like Hilda Stahl, I believe stories have the power to remind people they’re not alone. I hope my writing can not only share what’s happening but encourage people along the way — and show that strength can look different for everyone, and that God is always there, even when it’s hard to see.