My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, and President of A²MEND LACC. The future I am working toward is one where healing, movement, and education come together to change lives. My goal is to transfer to a California State University to earn my bachelor’s degree in kinesiology and eventually complete a Doctor of Physical Therapy program. I want to open a holistic physical therapy and wellness clinic that serves communities that often lack access to consistent rehabilitation, preventative care, and health education. My vision is bigger than a career; it is about creating spaces where people can rebuild their bodies, their confidence, and their futures. What brings me the greatest sense of purpose is helping others discover their strength. Fitness and movement saved my life during a period when I felt lost and uncertain about my direction. Through training, discipline, and learning about the human body, I began to understand how physical health connects to mental clarity, emotional stability, and personal growth. That realization inspired me to pursue kinesiology and physical therapy so that I could help others experience the same transformation. Being a first-generation college student means everything to me. My path to higher education has not been traditional. I have experienced housing instability, time in the foster care system, and many obstacles that made pursuing college feel distant at times. Yet those experiences shaped my resilience and my commitment to creating a different future. Returning to college later in life was not just about earning a degree; it was about proving to myself and to others that your past does not determine your potential. My community has played a powerful role in shaping my dreams. Programs like Umoja and A²MEND have surrounded me with mentors, brothers, and educators who believe in the success of Black men in higher education. Serving as President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College has allowed me to help build community among students who, like me, are striving to overcome barriers while pursuing their goals. Through leadership, mentorship, and wellness outreach, I have learned that success is not only about personal achievement but about lifting others as you rise. Receiving this scholarship would help remove financial pressure and allow me to focus more fully on my education and leadership. As a full-time student preparing for transfer, every bit of support helps me stay focused on the rigorous science courses required for my field. More importantly, it would represent an investment in a future physical therapist committed to serving communities that deserve greater access to healing and wellness. The future I am building is rooted in purpose, service, and resilience. I am proud of the progress I have made, and I remain motivated every day by the possibility of helping others heal, grow stronger, and realize their own potential.

Faith, for me, is not just religion it is alignment. It is discipline. It is accountability to something higher than my current circumstances. My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a career in physical therapy. I am also a father, a former foster youth, and someone who has had to rebuild my life more than once. Faith has been the foundation that allowed me to do that rebuilding. I grew up experiencing instability and periods of uncertainty that could have easily shaped a different outcome for my life. There were seasons when I questioned my direction, my worth, and my future. Faith was not always loud or dramatic sometimes it showed up as a quiet voice reminding me to keep going. It reminded me that setbacks were not final chapters. Faith taught me stewardship. It taught me that my body, my mind, and my opportunities are responsibilities, not accidents. That belief is what drew me to kinesiology and ultimately to physical therapy. I believe healing is sacred work. Helping someone regain mobility, reduce pain, or restore strength is not just a clinical act it is service. My spiritual grounding has influenced how I approach education. I do not view college as simply earning a degree. I see it as preparation for impact. Maintaining discipline in my coursework, even when life feels heavy, is part of honoring the opportunities I have been given. When I sit in anatomy or physiology class, I approach it with gratitude because I know education is not guaranteed. Faith also shaped my role as a father. I am deeply aware that my son watches my choices. My commitment to higher education is not only about career advancement it is about modeling perseverance, integrity, and purpose. I want him to see that faith is not passive. It requires action. It requires effort. Beyond my spiritual beliefs, mentors and community programs have pushed me forward. Being part of support programs at my college connected me to counselors and educators who believed in my potential when I was still rediscovering it myself. Their encouragement reinforced the lessons my faith had already planted: you are capable of more than your circumstances suggest. I am working toward transferring to a California State University to complete a Bachelor’s in Kinesiology with an emphasis in Exercise Science and then pursue a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. My long-term goal is to open a holistic rehabilitation clinic that serves underserved communities particularly communities of color where access to preventative and restorative care is limited. Faith fuels that vision. It reminds me that success is not just about personal achievement but about service. It keeps me grounded when progress feels slow. It gives me perspective when challenges arise. Patricia Lindsey Jackson and Eva Mae Jackson embodied dedication, education, and integrity. Those values resonate deeply with me. I strive to live as a steward of my talents and opportunities not wasting them, but multiplying them in ways that uplift others. Faith has not removed hardship from my life. It has given me the strength to move through it with intention. And that strength is what drives my academic goals, my leadership, and my commitment to becoming a healer in my community. Thank you for your consideration. Darryl Thomas

Grief changes you. Losing a sibling doesn’t just take a person away it reshapes the way you understand love, responsibility, and time. My name is Darryl Thomas, and I am a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a career in physical therapy. Experiencing the loss of a sibling has been one of the most formative and painful experiences of my life. It forced me to confront mortality early and to grow emotionally in ways I wasn’t prepared for. When you lose a sibling, you lose a piece of your childhood. You lose shared memories, inside jokes, and the future you imagined growing up together. The silence that follows is heavy. It lingers in holidays, family gatherings, and quiet moments when you realize someone is missing. For me, that loss deepened my understanding of fragility. Life is not guaranteed. Health is not guaranteed. Time is not guaranteed. That awareness has shaped the way I move through the world today. There were moments when grief showed up as anger. There were moments when it showed up as withdrawal. But over time, it became something else motivation. I began to think differently about how I wanted to live. I started asking myself harder questions: What kind of man do I want to be? What kind of father do I want to be? What kind of legacy do I want to leave? That shift led me back to school. It led me to kinesiology. It led me toward becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy so I can help people heal, especially in underserved communities where pain physical and emotional often goes untreated. Losing a sibling taught me that healing is not just physical. It is emotional. It is spiritual. It is communal. I’ve learned that perseverance doesn’t mean ignoring grief it means carrying it with purpose. As a father myself, the experience has also shaped how I parent. I am more present. More patient. More intentional. I understand that life can change in an instant, so I value every moment I have with my son. Today, I channel that loss into discipline. I maintain a strong GPA while balancing responsibilities as a student leader, former foster youth, and father. I use my story not as something that defines me by tragedy, but as something that strengthens my dedication to move forward. The Hazel Joy Memorial Scholarship honors resilience after loss. I carry that resilience every day. While grief never disappears, it can evolve into purpose. And my purpose is to build a life that honors the people I have lost by living fully, serving others, and refusing to let pain stop my progress. Thank you for considering my application. Darryl Thomas

Calculus is often described as intimidating, abstract, and difficult. But in STEM, calculus is not just another math class it is the language of change. It allows us to measure motion, growth, force, and adaptation. Without calculus, many of the innovations that shape our world would not exist. As a kinesiology major preparing to transfer into an Exercise Science program and eventually earn a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree, I see calculus as foundational to understanding the human body. Movement is not static. Muscles generate force, joints create torque, and the body constantly adjusts to stress and load. Calculus helps explain how velocity changes over time, how acceleration impacts force, and how rates of change affect performance and recovery. In biomechanics, derivatives allow us to analyze motion patterns. In physiology, calculus models blood flow, oxygen exchange, and neural response. The body itself operates through dynamic systems, and calculus gives us the tools to understand them. Beyond health sciences, calculus drives innovation across all STEM fields. Engineers use calculus to design bridges that withstand stress and strain. Computer scientists rely on calculus in machine learning algorithms to optimize performance. Physicists use it to model gravity, motion, and energy. Even cybersecurity and data science rely on mathematical modeling rooted in calculus principles. STEM careers are built on solving problems that involve change and calculus is the framework for solving those problems accurately. On a personal level, calculus represents discipline and intellectual growth. I returned to college after years away from academics and have maintained a strong GPA while completing foundational science coursework. Tackling higher-level math is not just about passing a class; it is about proving to myself that I can master complex systems. Calculus demands focus, patience, and critical thinking qualities that are essential in STEM professions where precision matters. In physical therapy, a small miscalculation in force application or rehabilitation progression can affect a patient’s recovery. Understanding mathematical principles strengthens my ability to think analytically and make evidence-based decisions. Calculus also teaches students how to approach complexity without fear. Many students dread calculus because it stretches their thinking. But that stretch is exactly what prepares us for innovation. The future of STEM depends on individuals who can analyze patterns, interpret data, and model outcomes. Whether developing medical technology, improving infrastructure, or advancing research, calculus builds the mindset necessary to solve tomorrow’s problems. For me, calculus is more than equations. It is preparation for a career dedicated to restoring movement and improving lives. It represents growth both mathematically and personally. STEM fields move the world forward, and calculus ensures that movement is measured, understood, and optimized.

My name is Darryl Thomas, 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. I plan to make a positive impact on the world by transforming pain into healing not just for myself, but for underserved communities that rarely receive consistent care, mentorship, or wellness education. My journey began in instability. I entered foster care as a teenager and experienced housing insecurity and adversity early in life. Those experiences could have defined me negatively. Instead, they shaped my mission. I learned firsthand what it feels like to lack stability, guidance, and access to resources. That understanding fuels my commitment to serve others who feel overlooked. Fitness saved my life. During one of the most difficult periods in my adulthood, movement became my therapy. Training gave me structure. Discipline gave me clarity. Through exercise and holistic wellness practices, I rebuilt my confidence and mental health. That transformation inspired my academic path. Today, I maintain a 3.81 GPA and earned Dean’s Honors while pursuing kinesiology, with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. But my impact will extend far beyond a degree. I plan to open a culturally informed physical therapy and wellness clinic rooted in accessibility, education, and prevention. Many Black and low-income communities do not receive early intervention care. Injuries go untreated. Chronic pain becomes normalized. Mental health struggles remain unspoken. I want to change that. Through my leadership at Los Angeles City College, I already work to uplift others. As President of A²MEND LACC and an active member of Umoja and EOPS, I help create spaces of belonging and mentorship for Black male students navigating higher education. My counselors and instructors have recognized my resilience, leadership, and service mindset. I believe representation matters. When students see someone who has survived foster care, homelessness, and setbacks still pursuing excellence, it shifts what feels possible. My long-term plan includes: Providing low-cost or sliding-scale physical therapy services Hosting free community mobility and injury-prevention workshops Mentoring foster youth and first-generation college students Integrating physical health with mental and spiritual wellness practices Compassion is not just something I speak about it is something I practice. I understand that people carry invisible battles. Whether through mentorship, education, or hands-on rehabilitation care, I want to be someone who helps others rebuild physically, mentally, and emotionally. The Our Destiny Our Future Scholarship honors someone who deeply cared about others. That is the legacy I aim to build in my own life. I do not see success as individual achievement; I see it as collective elevation. My destiny is to heal. My future is to serve. And my impact will be measured by how many people rise with me. Thank you for your consideration. Darryl Thomas Los Angeles City College Kinesiology Major

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College. There was a time in my teenage years when my environment and my decisions led me into the juvenile justice system. I was young, angry, and operating without guidance. I made choices that reflected pain more than purpose. I take full responsibility for those decisions. Growing up without consistent stability, I learned survival before I learned direction. Instead of asking for help, I masked my struggles with pride and impulsivity. The juvenile justice system was not just a punishment it was a wake-up call. Sitting in that reality forced me to confront something I had avoided: my life would only change if I changed it. A second chance, to me, is not simply being forgiven. It is being trusted again. It is being given room to prove that growth is real. The system taught me discipline in a way I did not yet understand. It taught me that every action has consequences. But more importantly, it showed me how easy it is for young men especially Black boys from low-income communities to be written off as statistics instead of seen as potential. I refused to become a statistic. After that chapter, my journey was not perfect. I still faced housing instability, financial hardship, and moments of doubt. But I began choosing differently. I sought structure. I began focusing on physical fitness, mentorship, and personal accountability. Fitness became therapy. Discipline became identity. Today, I hold a 3.81 GPA as a full-time kinesiology student. I am active in programs like EOPS, Umoja, and A²MEND, communities that support students who are rebuilding and striving for excellence. I am on track to transfer to a California State University to earn a Bachelor’s in Exercise Science and then pursue a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. That is what a second chance looks like. It looks like a former justice-involved youth standing on the Dean’s Honor List. It looks like a father showing his son that mistakes do not determine destiny. It looks like a man who once lacked direction now creating it for others. The steps I have taken toward change are intentional: • I returned to school after years away and committed fully to my academics. • I built a disciplined routine centered around health, faith, and service. • I mentor other young men on campus who feel lost or discouraged. • I speak openly about growth, accountability, and the power of transformation. My long-term goal is to open a holistic physical therapy clinic serving underserved communities. Many young men who encounter the justice system carry unaddressed trauma, untreated injuries, and mental health struggles. I want to be a practitioner who understands both physical rehabilitation and life rehabilitation. This scholarship would be used directly toward tuition, textbooks for advanced science courses (Anatomy, Physiology, Biomechanics), transfer application fees, and living expenses that allow me to focus on school rather than survival. Reducing financial stress means protecting the structure I’ve worked hard to build. But the most important part of a second chance is paying it forward. I plan to mentor justice-involved youth who are considering college but doubt they belong. I want to create workshops that combine physical training with life coaching teaching discipline, resilience, and goal setting through movement. I want young men to see someone who has walked through the system and walked out stronger. I cannot change my past, but I can lead from it. The juvenile justice system could have been the end of my story. Instead, it became the beginning of my accountability. A second chance is not a reset button it is a responsibility. And I am ready for that responsibility. Thank you for considering my application. Darryl Thomas Kinesiology Major Los Angeles City College

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College. There was a time in my life when addiction had more control over my choices than I did. I was navigating housing instability, emotional trauma from my past, and the weight of trying to figure out who I was supposed to become. Substances became an escape a way to numb pain I didn’t yet have the tools to process. At first, it felt like relief. Eventually, it became isolation. Addiction doesn’t just impact your health. It distorts your discipline, your focus, and your belief in yourself. I began drifting further away from my goals. School wasn’t even a serious thought at the time. Survival was. The turning point came when I realized I was repeating cycles I said I would never repeat. I had to make a decision: stay comfortable in dysfunction or embrace the discomfort of growth. I chose growth. Sobriety forced me to sit with myself. It forced me to build structure. I replaced unhealthy habits with training, journaling, prayer, and fitness. Movement became my therapy. Discipline became my identity. I learned that healing is not instant it is daily. Returning to school after years away was intimidating, but sobriety gave me clarity. Today, I hold a 3.81 GPA while completing a full transfer pathway in Kinesiology. I am active in EOPS, Umoja, and A²MEND, programs that support students like me who are rebuilding and striving for excellence. I am preparing to transfer to a CSU for Exercise Science and ultimately earn a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. Addiction once took from me. Education is how I take my power back. My goal is to become a licensed physical therapist and open a clinic that serves low-income and underserved communities especially Black men who often suffer silently with trauma, injury, and unaddressed mental health challenges. I understand what it means to feel lost. I understand what it means to want a second chance. That lived experience will make me a more empathetic practitioner. Sobriety did not just remove substances from my life; it gave me purpose. Today I mentor other young men on campus, speak openly about discipline and self-accountability, and show through my actions that change is possible. I am also a father, and being present and clear-minded for my son is the greatest gift sobriety has given me. The Trudgers Fund supports students who have struggled but chosen to rise. That is my story. I am not defined by addiction I am refined by recovery. This scholarship would allow me to focus fully on my education and continue transforming adversity into service. I no longer run from pain. I build from it. Thank you for considering my application. Darryl Thomas Kinesiology Major Los Angeles City College

Math, to me, is discipline made visible. It is structure in a world that can feel chaotic. As a kinesiology major preparing to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy, I see math not just as numbers on a page, but as the language of movement, healing, and performance. Statistics helps me understand research studies. Algebra shows up in biomechanics. Even basic arithmetic plays a role when calculating heart rate zones, dosage recommendations, or tracking progress in strength training programs. Math is everywhere in the science of the human body. What I love most about math is its honesty. There’s no guessing. There’s no bias. You either solved the equation correctly or you didn’t. That clarity builds accountability. As someone who returned to college after facing housing instability and major life transitions, math gave me confidence again. Every correct answer felt like proof that my mind was sharp, capable, and disciplined. Math also teaches resilience. If a problem looks impossible, you break it down step by step. You isolate variables. You stay patient. That same mindset applies to life. When I was rebuilding my academic journey, I approached it like solving an equation: focus on what you can control, eliminate distractions, and move forward one step at a time. In my Statistics course and future upper-division science classes, math will continue to shape how I analyze data, interpret clinical outcomes, and make evidence-based decisions for patients. Loving math isn’t just about enjoying numbers it’s about respecting logic, structure, and growth. For me, math represents order, progress, and possibility. And that’s why I love it.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a career in physical therapy. I am low-income, a former foster youth, and a father. For much of my life, I learned how to survive. Only recently have I learned how to dream. Survival meant navigating housing instability as a teenager. It meant adapting quickly, staying guarded, and focusing on immediate needs rather than long-term vision. I learned resilience early, but resilience alone does not automatically create opportunity. It simply helps you endure. Returning to college in my thirties required that same resilience. I rebuilt my academic foundation from the ground up and now maintain a 3.81 GPA while pursuing a transfer pathway in kinesiology. But beyond grades, college has reintroduced me to possibility. For years, my world was small defined by survival, responsibility, and limitations. Studying abroad represents something different. It represents expansion. As a future Doctor of Physical Therapy, I want to understand how different cultures approach healing, rehabilitation, and movement science. Many global communities integrate physical therapy with traditional medicine, holistic practices, and community-centered care models. Exposure to these systems would help me develop a more culturally informed and globally aware practice. I am currently in the early stages of researching study abroad opportunities through future CSU transfer programs, particularly those focused on Spain and West Africa. Spain interests me because of its strong physical therapy education system and emphasis on manual therapy. West Africa interests me because of its deep cultural connections to movement, rhythm, and community healing traditions. For me, studying abroad is not about escape. It is about perspective. When you grow up in survival mode, your imagination narrows. Travel challenges that. It forces you to adapt, communicate across difference, and see your own identity in a broader context. As a Black male student who has overcome instability, stepping into a global setting would reinforce that my story is not confined to one zip code or one chapter. I want my son to see that courage means more than endurance it means exploration. It means stepping beyond comfort and choosing growth. Studying abroad would move me from surviving to creating because it would expand the scope of what I believe is possible. It would help me build international connections, strengthen cultural competence, and deepen my understanding of global health disparities. That insight will directly shape the clinic I hope to open one day one rooted in access, dignity, and culturally responsive care. Survival taught me discipline. Education taught me direction. Travel will teach me expansion. This scholarship would help bridge the gap between resilience and opportunity, allowing me to transform survival into vision and vision into impact.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. My academic focus is human movement and rehabilitation, but my deeper calling is serving aging populations with dignity and evidence-based care. Alzheimer’s disease and dementia represent more than a diagnosis. They represent a gradual erosion of memory, identity, and independence the very things that define personhood. As someone pursuing a career in rehabilitation sciences, I have become increasingly aware of how neurological decline reshapes not only the patient’s life, but the emotional structure of entire families. Growing up, I witnessed how health challenges in older adults often go misunderstood in underserved communities. Memory loss was sometimes dismissed as “just aging.” Behavioral changes were met with frustration instead of education. There was limited awareness of early warning signs, even less understanding of prevention, and almost no structured support. What I have learned through my education in kinesiology is that Alzheimer’s and dementia are not simply inevitable parts of aging. They are complex neurodegenerative conditions influenced by genetics, cardiovascular health, inflammation, lifestyle, and environmental factors. That knowledge shifted my perspective from passive acceptance to active responsibility. In my anatomy and physiology studies, I’ve learned about neuronal degeneration, synaptic loss, and the accumulation of beta-amyloid plaques and tau proteins in Alzheimer’s disease. But what impacts me most is not the pathology it’s the human cost. Loss of independence. Loss of recognition. Loss of dignity. As a future physical therapist, I see myself on the front lines of aging care. While physical therapy does not cure Alzheimer’s, movement science plays a crucial role in: • Maintaining mobility • Preventing falls • Preserving functional independence • Improving circulation and brain health • Supporting caregiver education Research increasingly shows that structured physical activity may reduce risk factors associated with cognitive decline. Exercise improves cerebral blood flow, reduces inflammation, and supports neuroplasticity. These findings reinforce my commitment to combining rehabilitation science with preventative education. Coming from a background that includes housing instability and foster care, I understand what it means to feel vulnerable and unseen. That experience fuels my passion to work with populations that are often overlooked including elderly individuals navigating cognitive decline without adequate resources. My long-term goal is to open a rehabilitation clinic that integrates: • Neurological rehabilitation • Geriatric mobility programs • Caregiver training workshops • Preventative exercise education Communities of color are disproportionately impacted by health disparities, including reduced access to early dementia screening and support services. Through my leadership in Umoja and A²MEND, I have seen how education can change outcomes. I want to bring that same empowerment into aging care. Alzheimer’s disease forces families to confront something deeply painful: the slow fading of someone they love. But it also calls professionals like myself to act with urgency, research-driven compassion, and innovation. What I have learned most is this: Dementia does not remove a person’s worth. Memory loss does not erase dignity. And aging does not eliminate the right to quality care. Through advanced study in Exercise Science and ultimately a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree, I intend to contribute to interdisciplinary approaches that support both patients and caregivers. Whether through fall-prevention programs, mobility preservation, or community education initiatives, my goal is to ensure that individuals facing cognitive decline are treated not as diagnoses but as human beings. This scholarship would support not only my academic journey, but my commitment to serving aging populations with strength, science, and compassion. Because awareness is the first step toward prevention. And prevention begins with education.

Competition, faith, and family are three pillars that shape who I am. My name is Darryl Thomas, and I am a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a transfer degree in Exercise Science. While I may not be a traditional collegiate athlete on a roster, I live the discipline of an athlete every single day. Fitness and sport have been my structure, my therapy, and my proving ground. I grew up navigating instability, including time in foster care as a teenager. My upbringing taught me resilience early. My family dynamic has not always been conventional, but it has been powerful. I am a devoted father, and everything I build academically and physically is rooted in creating stability and legacy for my son. Where I once experienced uncertainty, I now choose structure. Where I once lacked guidance, I now aim to lead. Athletics have always been part of that structure. I train six days a week, following a disciplined split focused on strength, mobility, and functional movement. I compete against the person I was yesterday. As a kinesiology major, I study human movement in the classroom and apply it in real time in the gym and park workouts. My academic performance reflects that same competitive spirit. I currently maintain a 3.81 GPA while completing rigorous science coursework aligned with an Exercise Science transfer pathway. I have earned Dean’s Honors and continue to push myself in anatomy, physiology, and statistics because I understand that athletic success without academic excellence limits long-term impact. My family motivates my ambition. I want my son to see discipline in action. I want him to understand that faith is not passive it is commitment. Much like Stephan Wolley valued competition and family, I believe competition builds character. It teaches humility in defeat and composure in victory. It demands consistency when motivation fades. My education so far has been transformative. Returning to college in my thirties required swallowing pride and rebuilding from the foundation. But that process strengthened me. I am actively involved in leadership programs like Umoja, EOPS, and A²MEND, where I mentor and encourage other Black male students pursuing higher education. I understand what it means to fight for opportunity, and I bring that same fight into everything I do. My future plans are clear. I intend to transfer to a California State University to earn my Bachelor of Science in Kinesiology with an emphasis in Exercise Science, and then complete a Doctor of Physical Therapy (DPT) degree. Long term, I plan to open a clinic serving underserved communities a space that combines athletic performance training, rehabilitation, and holistic wellness. I want young athletes to have access to proper recovery, injury prevention, and mentorship that extends beyond the field. This scholarship would not only support my education; it would strengthen a father, a future physical therapist, and a mentor committed to uplifting others. Competition has shaped me. Faith sustains me. Family drives me. Thank you for considering my application.

My name is Darryl Thomas, and one of the greatest challenges I have overcome is rebuilding my life after instability in my early adulthood, including housing insecurity and financial hardship while trying to pursue higher education. There was a time when survival took priority over dreams. I worked long hours, faced uncertainty about where I would sleep, and carried the responsibility of being a father while feeling like my future was on hold. Returning to college at 34 years old required humility and courage. I had to sit in classrooms with students younger than me and remind myself that progress has no expiration date. Through discipline and consistency, I rebuilt my academic record and now maintain a strong GPA while pursuing a degree in kinesiology at Los Angeles City College. My long-term goal is to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and open a clinic that provides culturally responsive, affordable care to underserved communities. Overcoming instability taught me resilience. It also deepened my commitment to service. This scholarship would significantly reduce financial pressure, allowing me to focus more fully on advanced science coursework and transfer preparation. More importantly, it would accelerate my ability to give back. I plan to serve low-income and marginalized communities that often lack access to rehabilitation and preventative wellness care. Many people delay treatment because of cost or limited resources. I want to change that by creating a clinic that blends physical therapy, movement education, and community workshops. With financial relief from this scholarship, I can dedicate more time to volunteer outreach, mentorship of other first-generation college students, and building programming that connects movement with healing. Stamp collecting, surprisingly, has influenced my perspective in profound ways. I was first introduced to stamps through an older family member who preserved envelopes and commemorative stamps as small pieces of history. At first, I saw them as simple images. Over time, I realized each stamp carries a story of a nation, a leader, a movement, or a moment that shaped the world. Holding a stamp is like holding a fragment of global history in your hand. Philately taught me patience and attention to detail. Examining perforations, ink variations, and historical context trained me to slow down and appreciate nuance. That same mindset helps me in my kinesiology studies, where precision and observation matter. Just as no two stamps are identical in wear or origin, no two patients are identical in movement patterns or healing needs. Collecting stamps cultivated curiosity about the world beyond my immediate surroundings. It also reinforced the idea that even something small can carry lasting significance. Stamps travel across distances, connecting people. In many ways, my life mirrors that symbolism. I have moved through different seasons, challenges, and environments but each chapter adds meaning rather than erasing the past. Philately reminds me that history, resilience, and identity can coexist beautifully in small but powerful forms. Receiving this scholarship would not only support my education; it would be an investment in a future healthcare provider committed to community impact. Just as stamps connect people across borders, I intend to connect healing, education, and opportunity within my community. - Darryl Thomas 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC.

🔥 Challenge Name: “Heart Rate & Truth or Risk” As a kinesiology student, I had to bring some science and psychology into the villa. This challenge combines physical chemistry, emotional vulnerability, and strategic risk—everything that makes Love Island iconic. 💓 Phase 1: The Heart Rate Reveal Each Islander is fitted with a visible heart-rate monitor. One by one, Islanders perform a short, creative routine (dance, speech, eye contact moment, or playful flirtation) for the group. But here’s the twist: Instead of announcing whose heart rate was raised the most, the host reveals: Top 2 Islanders who raised the average heart rate of the villa One Islander whose partner’s heart rate increased the most One shocking wildcard result This builds suspense and potential tension especially if someone’s heart spikes for someone outside their couple. 🎭 Phase 2: Truth or Risk After the reveal, Islanders enter a private “Truth Booth.” They must choose between: Truth – Answer a bold, anonymous question pulled from a box (submitted earlier by other Islanders). Examples: “Who would you recouple with if your partner left tonight?” “Who are you physically attracted to but emotionally unsure about?” OR Risk – Spin a wheel with outcomes such as: Share a 60-second eye contact moment with any Islander. Go on a surprise 10-minute balcony date with someone not in your couple. Swap beds for one night (non-elimination episode). No middle ground. Once they choose, they must follow through. 🔥 Phase 3: The Fire Pit Fallout That night at the fire pit, clips from Phase 1 and selected Truth Booth moments are shown to the group. Not everything is revealed just enough to spark questions. Then the host announces: One couple voted by the villa as “Most Genuine” One couple voted as “Most Uncertain” The “Most Uncertain” couple must decide whether to stay together or open themselves to being vulnerable in the next recoupling. Why This Challenge Works Love Island thrives on chemistry, honesty, tension, and bold moves. “Heart Rate & Truth or Risk” blends: Physical attraction (heart-rate science) Emotional vulnerability (truth questions) Strategic gameplay (risk choices) Drama (controlled reveals at the fire pit) It pushes Islanders to confront attraction, loyalty, and fear in one night. Because at the end of the day, love isn’t just about who raises your heart rate it’s about who you’re brave enough to choose when everyone’s watching. Darryl Thomas 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC.

I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because she represents evolution without apology. I remember watching her as Maya Hart on Girl Meets World the sharp, witty best friend who used humor as armor. Even back then, Sabrina portrayed strength layered with vulnerability. Maya wasn’t perfect, but she was real. That balance stuck with me. It showed that you can be bold and still be soft, confident and still growing. As her career shifted from Disney Channel to a full-fledged music career, I saw something powerful: reinvention done with intention. Songs like “Espresso” and “Please Please Please” showcase confidence, wit, and playful charisma but beneath the catchy hooks is self-awareness. Sabrina doesn’t shrink herself. She leans into her voice, her femininity, her individuality. That resonates with me deeply. As a 34-year-old college student pursuing kinesiology and working toward becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy, my path hasn’t been linear. I’ve had to rebuild, restart, and redefine who I am. Watching Sabrina grow publicly transitioning from a child star to a self-assured artist reminds me that growth is allowed. You’re not confined to who you used to be. What inspires me most is her fearlessness in claiming space. The entertainment industry can be loud, critical, and quick to label people. Yet Sabrina continues to evolve artistically without losing authenticity. That takes discipline and confidence—two qualities I strive to develop daily in my academic life and leadership roles on campus. Her music also carries a kind of energy that motivates me. “Espresso” feels unapologetic and vibrant. It reminds me to bring that same spark into my goals whether it’s studying anatomy, leading student initiatives, or building a future clinic centered on healing and empowerment. Sabrina’s work encourages me to show up fully, not halfway. Beyond the music and acting, it’s her resilience that stands out. Every artist faces scrutiny, but she continues to rise. That persistence mirrors my own journey balancing fatherhood, academics, financial challenges, and ambition. Success isn’t overnight; it’s built through consistency. I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because she embodies transformation. She shows that you can outgrow old versions of yourself and step confidently into something bigger. Her career has reminded me that evolution is strength, not betrayal of who you were. And like her, I’m committed to becoming the strongest version of myself professionally, personally, and creatively.

I’m a fan of Wicked because it speaks to anyone who has ever felt misunderstood and chose to rise anyway. The first time I heard “Defying Gravity,” it didn’t feel like just a show tune. It felt like a declaration. Elphaba standing alone, choosing integrity over approval, choosing truth over popularity that hit me. As a 34-year-old college student rebuilding my life and pursuing a degree in kinesiology on the path to becoming a physical therapist, I understand what it means to take a different route than most people expect. Sometimes you have to be willing to be the “odd one out” to become who you’re meant to be. What I love most about Wicked is how it flips perspective. The so-called “Wicked Witch” isn’t evil—she’s principled. She’s bold. She refuses to compromise her values to fit into a system that benefits from silence. That theme resonates deeply with me. As a Black man navigating higher education, leadership spaces, and personal growth, I’ve learned that standing firm in who you are isn’t always comfortable but it’s necessary. “Popular” and “For Good” add another layer that makes the story powerful. Glinda’s journey shows that growth doesn’t happen overnight. She starts focused on image and approval, but eventually understands responsibility and empathy. That evolution reminds me that transformation is possible for anyone willing to self-reflect. And “For Good” captures something rare the idea that certain people permanently shape your life. As a father and student leader, I think about that often. I want to leave people better than I found them. Wicked also reminds me that labels don’t define destiny. Elphaba was judged before she even spoke. Yet she chose courage. That’s inspiring. My own journey hasn’t been perfect I’ve faced setbacks, instability, and moments of doubt but like Elphaba, I refuse to let past chapters dictate my future. The song “Defying Gravity” feels like a soundtrack to starting over with belief. The upcoming film adaptation starring Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande feels like another reminder of evolution of stories being retold for new generations. And that’s what makes Wicked timeless. It’s not just about Oz. It’s about identity, friendship, courage, and choosing authenticity over comfort. I’m a fan of Wicked because it doesn’t just entertain—it empowers. It tells us that sometimes the world will misunderstand you. But if you stay grounded in your purpose, you can rise anyway.

The Taylor Swift performance that moved me the most was her live ten-minute version of “All Too Well” during The Eras Tour. It wasn’t just a song it felt like storytelling therapy in front of 70,000 people. What makes that performance powerful isn’t the production or the lights. It’s the vulnerability. Taylor stands there with a guitar, stripped down to memory and emotion, and commands an entire stadium with honesty. You can feel that she’s not just performing heartbreak she’s revisiting growth. That’s what hit me. As a 34-year-old college student who returned to school after setbacks, instability, and rebuilding my life from scratch, I connect deeply with artists who evolve publicly. Taylor has reinvented herself album after album from the polished optimism of 1989, to the bold defiance of reputation, to the quiet introspection of evermore. But “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” feels like the bridge between who she was and who she chose to become. That performance reminds me that pain can be repurposed. When she sings about remembering “too well,” it’s not about staying stuck. It’s about reclaiming narrative. That resonates with me because I’ve had to rewrite my own story balancing fatherhood, full-time coursework in kinesiology, leadership roles on campus, and a dream of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I’ve had moments where quitting would’ve been easier. Watching Taylor perform that song live showed me what emotional endurance looks like in real time. There’s also something powerful about the collective experience. Thousands of people singing every lyric back to her it’s proof that when someone is brave enough to be transparent, others find healing in it. That’s impact. That’s leadership. I don’t just admire Taylor Swift because she’s successful. I respect her because she owns her growth. The Eras Tour itself symbolizes evolution honoring past versions of yourself while still stepping forward. That mindset fuels my ambition. I’m not ashamed of my earlier chapters. They built me. “All Too Well” live isn’t just my favorite performance. It’s a reminder that the hard seasons don’t define you they refine you. And if you’re bold enough to stand in your story, you can turn it into something powerful. That’s what Taylor does. That’s what I’m striving to do too.

My name is Darryl Thomas, 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. One of the most tremendous adversities I faced was aging out of foster care while still trying to figure out who I was and where I belonged. According to official records, I was in foster care until I turned eighteen . That period of instability shaped my early adulthood. I did not have a financial safety net, long-term housing security, or consistent guidance. For a long time, I viewed adversity as something that happened to me something unfair, something that set me behind. But over time, my perspective shifted. Instead of asking, “Why me?” I began asking, “What can this build in me?” There was a season in my life when housing instability and financial hardship forced me into survival mode. I worked full-time, navigated fatherhood, and tried to stay grounded while everything felt uncertain. Fitness became my anchor. Movement gave me structure when life felt chaotic. Discipline in the gym translated into discipline in my mindset. What started as self-preservation became transformation. My plan of action was simple but relentless: return to school, build stability through education, and pursue a career where I could serve others facing physical and emotional hardship. I enrolled at Los Angeles City College as a kinesiology major and committed fully. Since returning, I have earned a 3.81 GPA and Dean’s Honor Adversity changed how I see children and families navigating illness or instability. I understand what it feels like to lack control. I understand what it means to need someone steady in the room. That understanding fuels my desire to work in pediatric rehabilitation and ultimately become a Doctor of Physical Therapy serving underserved communities. Children facing medical challenges are not just patients; they are entire futures still forming. They need providers who see beyond charts and diagnoses. They need advocates who understand resilience not as theory, but as lived experience. My hardship refined me. It taught me patience, empathy, and responsibility. It strengthened my commitment to building safe, healing spaces for families under stress. It deepened my belief that healing is not just physical it is emotional, relational, and communal. Sarah Eber wanted to give back to children who endured life-altering challenges. I share that mission. My adversity did not close my path; it clarified it. Every obstacle sharpened my purpose. I no longer see hardship as something that limits me. I see it as preparation. And I am prepared to serve.

My name is Darryl Thomas, 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. I am currently studying Kinesiology with the goal of transferring to a CSU to complete a Bachelor’s degree in Exercise Science and ultimately earn a Doctor of Physical Therapy (DPT). I chose this field because movement changed my life. During a period of housing instability and personal setbacks, fitness became more than exercise it became structure, therapy, and discipline. I realized that the body and mind are deeply connected, and that underserved communities often lack access to consistent rehabilitation and holistic wellness care. I do not just want to treat injuries; I want to restore confidence, mobility, and long-term health. Higher education is critical for me because entrepreneurship without expertise is just ambition without foundation. To open a successful physical therapy and wellness clinic, I must understand anatomy, physiology, biomechanics, rehabilitation science, and evidence-based practice. A degree gives me credibility, licensure, and the ability to build something sustainable instead of temporary. I plan to pursue an entrepreneurial career because I do not want to simply work inside a system I want to build one. My long-term vision is to open a holistic physical therapy and performance center that integrates rehabilitation, strength training, mobility coaching, and culturally informed care for Black and underserved communities. I also plan to expand into digital wellness programs, educational workshops, and community outreach initiatives. Entrepreneurship allows me to control the mission, culture, and impact of the work I do. I will be successful in my business endeavors because I understand resilience at a level many do not. As a former foster youth and first-generation college student, I have already navigated instability, financial hardship, and returning to school later in life. While others may quit when profits are slow or obstacles arise, I am conditioned to adapt and persist. I have built discipline through fitness, maintained a strong GPA while working and parenting, and developed leadership skills through serving as President of A²MEND LACC. Success in business requires consistency, long-term vision, and emotional endurance not just ideas. Another reason I will succeed is that my business is rooted in purpose, not ego. Many entrepreneurs chase money alone. I am building something that solves a real problem: lack of accessible, culturally competent wellness care. When your business solves a meaningful problem, growth becomes organic because people feel the impact. To me, a successful life is not defined only by income or titles. Success means ownership ownership of my time, my impact, and my legacy. It means providing stability for my son, creating jobs within my community, and building a space where healing happens daily. It means financial freedom paired with service. Jessie Koci was described as a “get-it-done” kind of person. I resonate with that spirit deeply. I do not wait for perfect conditions. I build with what I have, where I am. And I am building something that will last. Darryl Thomas

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. There was a time in my life when everything felt unstable housing insecurity, financial pressure, co-parenting my son, and returning to school after years away. I remember nights questioning whether I was too far behind, too old, or too burdened by my past to build the future I envisioned. During that season, my faith was not just something I practiced it became the anchor that held me steady. As a former foster youth, I learned early that life does not always move according to plan. The instability I experienced could have easily shaped a narrative of defeat. Instead, I leaned into my faith and began to see my struggles as preparation rather than punishment. I relied on prayer, scripture, and spiritual discipline to quiet fear and replace it with purpose. When doubt told me I wasn’t enough, faith reminded me that my calling was greater than my circumstances. Returning to college at 33 was intimidating. I had been out of school for years, working and trying to survive. But I trusted that obedience to my purpose would create provision. I enrolled full-time, committed to discipline, and surrendered the outcome to God. That decision changed everything. Today, I hold a 3.8 GPA and earned Dean’s Honors while pursuing my Associate Degree for Transfer in Kinesiology I am actively involved in Umoja, EOPS, and serve as President of A²MEND LACC, where I mentor and uplift other Black men navigating higher education. My professors and counselors describe me as resilient, service-driven, and deeply committed to my goals But none of this growth happened without faith. There were moments when finances were uncertain and I did not know how tuition, books, or living expenses would be covered. Instead of quitting, I prayed and kept moving forward. I filled out scholarships. I showed up to class prepared. I stayed disciplined in my studies and consistent in my spiritual life. Faith did not remove the obstacle it strengthened me to endure it. Fitness also became a spiritual outlet for me. Movement became medicine, and discipline became worship. What started as personal healing evolved into a calling to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve underserved Black communities with culturally informed care. I want to build a holistic clinic that integrates physical rehabilitation with mental and spiritual restoration. Nabi Nicole’s devotion to faith and service resonates deeply with me. Like her, I believe true success is measured by how many lives you uplift along the way. This scholarship would not simply ease financial strain it would allow me to focus fully on advanced science coursework, research preparation, and mentorship leadership as I prepare to transfer and pursue my DPT. It would be an investment in a future physical therapist committed to healing both body and spirit. I relied on faith when circumstances felt overwhelming. That faith transformed fear into discipline, instability into purpose, and struggle into strength. And I am only getting started. Darryl Thomas

The person who has had the biggest impact on my life is my grandmother, Sharon Jones. Losing her to breast cancer was one of the most defining and painful experiences of my life, but it also shaped the man I am becoming. My grandmother was strength wrapped in softness. She had a calm presence that made everyone around her feel safe. Even when she was battling breast cancer, she carried herself with dignity and faith. I remember watching her move through treatments with quiet resilience. There were days when she was tired, days when the pain was visible in her eyes, yet she never allowed her illness to steal her spirit. She remained rooted in prayer and love. That image of her faithful even in suffering is something that stays with me. As a young man, seeing someone I loved fight a disease like breast cancer was confusing and frightening. It forced me to confront mortality earlier than I was ready for. But it also taught me compassion. I learned that strength is not always loud. Sometimes it is simply showing up, enduring, and continuing to love despite discomfort. My grandmother never complained. Instead, she focused on family, faith, and gratitude. Her battle and passing shifted something inside me. It deepened my faith and my sense of responsibility. I realized that life is fragile and time is precious. That awareness drives how I live today. It pushes me to pursue purpose rather than drift through life. It motivates me to build something meaningful not just for myself, but for my family and community. Her illness also opened my eyes to the importance of healthcare. Watching doctors and nurses care for her showed me how powerful compassionate medical professionals can be during someone’s most vulnerable moments. That experience planted a seed in me that eventually grew into my desire to work in healthcare. Today, as a kinesiology student pursuing a career in physical therapy, I carry that influence with me. I want to be the kind of healthcare professional who treats patients with dignity, patience, and understanding just as I wished for my grandmother during her fight. Beyond her illness, my grandmother taught me the value of family gatherings and connection. She loved bringing people together, whether for holidays or simple dinners. She believed that bonding strengthened the soul. That spirit lives in me. I enjoy organizing events and creating spaces where people feel supported and encouraged. Community matters. She made sure I understood that. Losing my grandmother to breast cancer was painful, but her life continues to guide me. Her faith strengthens mine. Her resilience fuels my discipline. Her love reminds me why I strive to succeed. I carry her legacy forward not only in memory but in action through education, service, and faith. She may no longer be physically present, but her impact is permanent.

Art is not just creativity to me it is structure, therapy, and clarity. As a 34-year-old Black kinesiology student in California, I carry responsibilities that require constant discipline: fatherhood, financial pressure, academic rigor, and long-term career goals. On the outside, I appear focused and strong. What many do not see are the internal battles the mental fatigue, the pressure to succeed, and the weight of past instability that can quietly follow you into classrooms and study sessions. Art gives me a way to process what cannot always be spoken. Photography has become one of my most powerful outlets. Through light, angles, and framing, I control perspective. That alone is healing. In life, we cannot always control circumstances, but through art, I control the narrative. When I photograph strength in motion or capture stillness in a quiet moment, I am reminding myself that balance exists. Art slows me down. It allows me to breathe. Fitness itself is also an art form to me. The human body in motion is design. Structured training programs, symmetry, and progression are creative expression through discipline. When I build workout routines or create wellness-focused content, I am not just exercising I am creating something that represents growth and transformation. Movement saved my life during a time when I felt lost. Art and fitness together keep me grounded. Living with internal pressures that others may not see requires outlets that are healthy and constructive. Without art, it would be easy to become overwhelmed by responsibility. With art, I redirect that pressure into productivity. Whether through photography, structured journaling, branding design, or fitness visuals, I create reminders of resilience. Art turns stress into structure. Art also motivates me academically. When I feel drained from studying anatomy or statistics, creative expression recharges my focus. It reminds me that I am more than assignments and exams. I am a builder, a thinker, a creator. That identity strengthens my commitment to finishing my degree and becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. Sunflowers grow toward the light even when conditions are imperfect. In many ways, art is my sunlight. It helps me reorient myself toward growth, even when challenges feel heavy. It keeps me engaged not only in school but in life. Creativity does not distract me from my goals it fuels them. Through art, I stay motivated, centered, and disciplined. And through that discipline, I continue moving forward. hope you like my artwork for rush week at LACC.

Don’t let pain define you let it refine you in god we trust. That mindset has guided every step of my educational journey. My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a career in physical therapy. My path to higher education has not been traditional. I returned to school after experiencing housing instability, financial hardship, and the responsibility of co-parenting my son. What could have been setbacks instead became fuel. I chose discipline over defeat, structure over chaos, and purpose over distraction. Fitness quite literally changed my life. During a period when I felt directionless, movement became my therapy. Strength training, structured routines, and health education restored my confidence and clarity. What began as personal healing evolved into a calling: to become a licensed Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve underserved communities that lack consistent access to rehabilitation and wellness care. I am not just studying kinesiology I am living it daily. Since returning to college, I have maintained a 3.81 GPA and earned Dean’s Honor List recognition while completing a demanding full-time schedule that includes Anatomy, Statistics, English composition, and Spanish. These foundational science courses are rigorous, but I welcome that challenge because they prepare me for advanced study in Exercise Science and ultimately a Doctor of Physical Therapy program. Balancing a heavy academic load with financial pressures and fatherhood has required discipline, time management, and sacrifice. I treat my education like training for a championship consistency, preparation, and execution. Beyond academics, I actively invest in leadership and service. I am involved in student support programs such as Umoja and EOPS, communities that provide accountability and mentorship for students from historically underserved backgrounds. I also serve as President of A²MEND at LACC, an organization focused on supporting African American male scholars. Through this leadership role, I help coordinate meetings, encourage academic excellence, and foster brotherhood among students navigating higher education. Representation matters. Many young men do not see examples of resilience and academic focus — I strive to be that example. In addition, I organize wellness-centered initiatives that promote physical and mental health awareness. Whether leading structured fitness sessions or mentoring peers on discipline and routine, my goal is to demonstrate that strength is not only physical but also mental and spiritual. I believe health is holistic. It requires structure, faith, resilience, and community support. These values guide both my academic and personal life. My financial need is significant. As a low-income, former foster youth and first-generation college student, I do not have generational wealth or financial safety nets to rely on. Every semester requires careful budgeting and strategic planning. While I remain committed to my education, financial strain can become a distraction from academic focus. A scholarship from the Christian Fitness Association would reduce that burden and allow me to concentrate fully on excelling in my science coursework and preparing for transfer to a CSU for a Bachelor’s in Kinesiology with an Exercise Science emphasis. My long-term goal is to earn a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree and open a holistic rehabilitation clinic rooted in strength, discipline, and faith. I want to integrate evidence-based physical therapy practices with culturally competent care that serves Black and underserved communities. Many individuals delay or avoid treatment due to cost, mistrust, or lack of access. I intend to change that narrative by building a clinic that prioritizes accessibility, education, and empowerment. I believe fitness is more than aesthetics; it is restoration. It rebuilds confidence, improves mental clarity, and restores dignity. The same discipline required in training mirrors the discipline required in life consistency, humility, and perseverance. These principles shape who I am as a student, a father, and a future healthcare professional. This scholarship would not only support my education but invest in a future physical therapist dedicated to service. I do not take opportunity lightly. I understand what it means to rebuild from instability. I understand the value of mentorship and faith. Most importantly, I understand that success is not meant to be kept it is meant to be shared. I am not simply pursuing a degree. I am building a life of service grounded in resilience, leadership, and purpose. With continued discipline and the support of organizations that believe in students like me, I will complete my academic journey and return that investment through community impact.I want my journey to show other young men from backgrounds like mine that discipline, faith, and education can transform pain into purpose. Thank you for your consideration.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. I embody a life of service not because it is convenient, but because it saved my life. I am a former foster youth, a father, and a first-generation college student who returned to school after years of instability. I have experienced housing insecurity, financial hardship, and the pressure of rebuilding from scratch. Instead of allowing those experiences to define me, I chose to let them refine me. Service became my anchor. At LACC, I maintain a 3.81 GPA while completing rigorous science coursework in anatomy, statistics, and physiology. My professors and counselors describe me as disciplined, resilient, and committed to uplifting others. But beyond grades, my service shows up in how I move through my community. I am an active member of Umoja and EOPS, programs that support historically underserved students. I serve as President of A²MEND at LACC, where I help create mentorship spaces for Black male students navigating higher education. I organize wellness discussions, academic check-ins, and brotherhood accountability meetings that encourage men who look like me to persist despite systemic barriers. Representation matters, and I make it my responsibility to show up consistently. Service is also physical for me. Fitness saved my life during a time when I felt lost. Movement became therapy before I ever stepped into a classroom to study kinesiology. That experience shaped my calling. I am committed to becoming a licensed physical therapist who serves underserved Black and low-income communities communities where preventative care and rehabilitation are often inaccessible. Education, for me, is not about status. It is about access. When I earn my B.S. in Kinesiology and eventually my DPT, I plan to open a holistic physical therapy clinic rooted in strength, healing, and cultural understanding. I want to integrate evidence-based rehabilitation with mentorship, health education, and preventative wellness programming. My goal is not only to treat injuries, but to teach discipline, resilience, and ownership of one’s body and health. Mrs. Marion Makins dedicated her life to faith, education, and uplifting her community. I strive to embody those same pillars. My faith teaches me stewardship that the knowledge I gain is not mine alone, but something I must return multiplied. Every exam I pass, every leadership role I step into, and every young man I encourage is part of that commitment. Receiving this scholarship would reduce financial strain and allow me to focus more fully on my studies and service work. But more importantly, it would affirm that a life rebuilt through perseverance can become a life poured back into others. I do not seek education for personal advancement alone. I seek it so that I can stand in rooms where people are hurting and say, “I understand and I can help.” That is the life of service I am building.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. As a low-income, first-generation college student and single father, I understand how health challenges can reshape a family’s life. My goal in healthcare is to restore strength, mobility, and confidence especially for individuals living with lung disease and rare medical conditions. Healthcare is not only about extending life; it is about improving quality of life. Many patients with chronic lung disease such as COPD, pulmonary fibrosis, asthma, or rare respiratory disorders struggle not just with breathing, but with fatigue, limited mobility, and loss of independence. These limitations often lead to anxiety, depression, and social isolation. As a future physical therapist, I plan to help bridge the gap between medical treatment and functional living. Pulmonary rehabilitation is one of the most powerful yet underutilized tools in respiratory care. Through evidence-based exercise programs, breathing retraining, posture correction, and endurance conditioning, physical therapists can significantly improve oxygen efficiency and overall physical capacity. My education in kinesiology has shown me how movement science, biomechanics, and controlled progression can strengthen respiratory muscles and improve circulation, allowing patients to perform daily activities with less strain. For individuals living with rare conditions, the challenge is often compounded by delayed diagnoses, limited public awareness, and scarce specialized care. I want to work in multidisciplinary healthcare environments where collaboration between physicians, respiratory therapists, and rehabilitation specialists provides comprehensive support. Patients with rare diseases often feel overlooked; my role would be to ensure they feel heard, understood, and actively involved in their recovery plan. Beyond clinical care, I plan to advocate for preventative health education. Many underserved communities lack access to information about lung health, environmental triggers, and early intervention. I hope to develop community-based programs that educate families about respiratory wellness, injury prevention, and safe exercise practices. By combining education with rehabilitation, patients can gain both immediate relief and long-term resilience. My personal journey has shaped my commitment to this field. I have experienced how physical discipline and structured movement can restore confidence during difficult seasons of life. That understanding deepens my empathy for patients who feel limited by their conditions. I approach healthcare not only with technical knowledge, but with compassion rooted in lived experience. Sammy Hason, Sr.’s legacy as a lifelong learner and compassionate healthcare professional inspires me to pursue excellence not only in skill but in character. Like him, I believe that dedication to learning and service creates lasting impact. Through my career in physical therapy, I aim to improve the lives of individuals living with lung disease and rare medical conditions by restoring mobility, enhancing respiratory function, and empowering patients to reclaim independence. Healthcare should not only treat symptoms it should restore dignity. That is the kind of impact I am committed to making.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old single father, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. I am a low-income, first-generation college student and former foster youth. Balancing education and single parenthood is not something I approach casually it requires structure, discipline, and intentional planning. I do not try to “fit school in” around parenting. Instead, I build my academic life around my responsibility as a father. My child is school-aged, which means routines matter. I plan my academic schedule in advance, aligning study blocks with my child’s school hours and evenings after homework time. Early mornings are dedicated to reading and coursework. Late nights are reserved for assignments and exam preparation when necessary. I use weekly planning systems to track deadlines, expenses, and family obligations so that nothing is left to chance. The biggest challenge as a single parent student is not motivation it is margin. There is very little room for financial or scheduling mistakes. Unexpected costs, car repairs, or childcare shifts can quickly create stress. That is why I prioritize organization and stability. I maintain strong communication with professors, utilize campus support programs like EOPS and Umoja, and seek mentorship when needed. I have learned that balance is not about perfection it is about preparation. My relationship with my child is rooted in consistency. I make it a priority to remain present emotionally even during demanding academic periods. I want my child to see education not as a burden, but as a tool for empowerment. We talk openly about goals, discipline, and long-term vision. My education is not separate from my parenting it is part of the example I am setting. This scholarship would significantly reduce financial pressure and allow me to remain focused on completing my degree in kinesiology and continuing toward a Doctor of Physical Therapy program. As a low-income student parent, tuition, books, transportation, and daily living expenses require careful budgeting. Financial relief would reduce the need to take on additional work hours and create more time for both studying and parenting. More importantly, this scholarship would support generational stability. My long-term goal is to serve underserved communities through healthcare while providing lasting financial and emotional security for my child. Completing my degree is not just about personal achievement it is about creating expanded opportunity. Balancing family and education has strengthened my time management, resilience, and clarity of purpose. Being a single father has not limited my ambition; it has refined it. Every decision I make considers the future I am building one defined by stability, service, and educational advancement. This scholarship would not only help me complete my degree it would help sustain a foundation I am building for my child. Education is the pathway to opportunity, and as a single father, I am committed to walking that path with discipline, integrity, and determination.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. Education did not enter my life as a straight path it became my second chance. For a long time, survival was my focus. Growing up in instability and spending part of my youth in foster care taught me resilience early, but it did not immediately give me direction. Stability was temporary, and long-term planning felt distant. I learned how to adapt, but I had not yet learned how to build. Returning to college changed that. When I enrolled at Los Angeles City College, I wasn’t just signing up for classes. I was making a declaration: my future would no longer be shaped by circumstance alone. Education gave structure to my ambition. It turned abstract hope into measurable progress syllabi, exams, deadlines, grades. For the first time, I could see forward motion in tangible form. Pursuing kinesiology gave me even greater clarity. During challenging seasons of my life, physical training and disciplined movement became my anchor. Fitness helped me rebuild mentally and emotionally when other parts of life felt uncertain. Studying the science behind human movement—biomechanics, anatomy, physiology transformed that personal experience into professional purpose. I began to understand that the body’s ability to recover mirrors the human capacity to grow. Rehabilitation is not just physical; it is symbolic of restoration. Education did more than give me knowledge it gave me identity. I am no longer someone reacting to instability. I am a student, a leader, and a future healthcare professional. I am someone working toward a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree with intention. The challenges I’ve overcome shaped that commitment. As a low-income, first-generation college student and single father, I navigate responsibilities that extend beyond textbooks. Time is limited. Finances are tight. There is no luxury of distraction. Every semester requires discipline and sacrifice. I plan my days carefully, often studying early mornings or late at night after parenting duties are fulfilled. There are moments when exhaustion is present, but quitting is not an option. My child is watching. Growing up in foster care also instilled independence and adaptability, but it left gaps uncertainty about long-term planning, financial literacy, and academic navigation. Education helped close those gaps. Through programs like Umoja, EOPS, and A²MEND, I found mentorship and community. I stepped into leadership roles, eventually serving as President of A²MEND at my campus. Leading other Black male students reinforced something powerful: my struggles were not weaknesses; they were preparation. Education reshaped how I view adversity. Instead of seeing challenges as barriers, I now see them as training grounds. Academic difficulty does not intimidate me because I understand endurance. Financial hardship does not derail me because I understand planning. Parenthood does not slow me down it sharpens my focus. My long-term goal is to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve underserved communities that often lack access to preventative and rehabilitative healthcare. Many low-income communities experience limited access to quality healthcare, cultural mistrust of medical systems, and inadequate education about injury prevention and recovery. I want to help change that. I envision opening a community-focused clinic that integrates rehabilitation, wellness education, and mentorship for youth interested in health careers. Beyond clinical care, I plan to use my education to mentor students from foster care and single-parent backgrounds. Representation matters. When someone sees a person with a similar history succeed academically and professionally, it expands what feels possible. I want to demonstrate that your starting point does not define your ceiling. Education has given me direction, but it has also given me responsibility. It has taught me that growth is intentional and that opportunity should be multiplied. My goal is not simply to earn a degree; it is to create generational stability for my family and measurable impact in my community. Dreaming big, for me, means imagining a future where healthcare is accessible, culturally informed, and empowering. Rising higher means refusing to be defined by instability and choosing structure instead. It means believing that the person I am becoming matters as much as the destination I am pursuing. Education transformed my trajectory. It turned survival into strategy and struggle into purpose. I am building a future rooted in discipline, service, and impact not just for myself, but for the people I will serve. I began my journey navigating uncertainty. Through education, I found clarity. Through perseverance, I found strength. And through purpose, I found direction.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. Being raised in a single-parent and unstable household shaped me long before I understood what resilience meant. There were seasons of love and effort, but also periods of inconsistency and transition, including time spent in foster care. What I learned early was that strength is often quiet. It looks like showing up even when resources are limited. It looks like sacrifice that goes unseen. Growing up without a traditional support structure forced me to mature quickly. I learned independence early how to manage responsibilities, adapt to change, and regulate my emotions without much guidance. While those experiences were challenging, they built discipline and awareness. I became observant. I understood that stability is not guaranteed; it is built. Watching a parent carry responsibility alone also taught me about sacrifice. Even when finances were tight and stress was high, effort was constant. That example left a lasting imprint on me. I learned that love is demonstrated through consistency. That lesson now guides how I move through life as both a student and a father. Being raised in that environment shaped my future goals in two major ways: I value education deeply, and I am committed to breaking cycles. As a first-generation college student, returning to school required courage and long-term vision. I am currently pursuing kinesiology with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. Healthcare, especially in underserved communities, often lacks both access and cultural understanding. I want to change that. My upbringing also shaped how I use my talents. I have developed discipline, empathy, and leadership through lived experience. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I support other students many of whom come from similar backgrounds by providing mentorship, accountability, and encouragement. I know what it feels like to navigate systems without a roadmap. Because of that, I am intentional about helping others build one. In the future, I see myself using my scientific training and personal resilience to serve communities that are often overlooked. Physical therapy is not just about rehabilitation; it is about restoring confidence, independence, and dignity. I want to create spaces where individuals feel understood, supported, and empowered to take control of their health. Even beyond my career, I plan to continue mentoring young people especially those raised in single-parent or blended households who may doubt their potential. Representation matters. When someone sees a person with a similar background succeed, it expands what feels possible. Being raised in a single-parent and blended-family environment did not limit me; it prepared me. It sharpened my adaptability, strengthened my emotional intelligence, and clarified my purpose. I am driven not only to succeed personally, but to create opportunity and stability for the next generation. My future is rooted in service. The lessons I learned growing up discipline, sacrifice, resilience are the same values I will use to help others build healthier, stronger lives.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black father, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College, former foster youth, and a single dad raising my child Ammar Thomas while pursuing a career in healthcare. Being a single father means there is no backup plan. Every responsibility financial, emotional, physical rests on my shoulders. The biggest challenge is balancing time. My child deserves presence, attention, and stability. My education demands discipline, focus, and long hours. There are no off days. When my child needs me, I show up. When exams approach, I stay up. The pressure can feel heavy, but quitting is never an option. Managing day-to-day responsibilities requires structure. I plan my weeks in advance. I study early mornings and late nights. I stay organized financially because every dollar matters. As a low-income student parent, unexpected expenses can shift everything. But discipline keeps things steady. What motivates me is simple: my child is watching. My relationship with my child is built on consistency. I make sure they feel safe, supported, and valued. Even on busy days, I prioritize connection calls, visits, conversations, shared routines. I want my child to grow up seeing effort in action. Education is important not only because it increases opportunity, but because it models resilience. When my child sees me working toward a degree despite obstacles, they learn that perseverance is normal. They learn that goals require commitment. Life as a single dad is demanding, but it is deeply rewarding. Some of the most meaningful moments are simple ones helping with homework, hearing “I’m proud of you,” watching growth over time. Those moments remind me why the sacrifice is worth it. My greatest achievement is not a grade or leadership role it is building stability where there once was uncertainty. What inspires me to push through difficult times is legacy. I grew up navigating foster care and instability. I understand what it feels like to lack structure. That history fuels me. I refuse to allow cycles to repeat. My child deserves a foundation built on discipline, education, and belief. When challenges come, I remind myself that pressure creates strength. I am not just building a career; I am building a generational shift. Receiving this scholarship would create real impact. It would ease financial strain and allow me to focus more fully on completing my degree in kinesiology and advancing toward becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. Reduced financial pressure means more mental space for parenting and academic excellence. It also reinforces something powerful that single fathers’ efforts are seen and valued. Single dads are often overlooked, but we are steady. We carry the load quietly. We build futures without applause. I am committed to finishing what I started not just for myself, but for my child. My goal is long-term stability, professional service in healthcare, and raising a child who understands that adversity does not determine destiny. Being a single father has refined me. It has strengthened my discipline, deepened my empathy, and clarified my purpose. This scholarship would not simply support my education it would support a father determined to create opportunity, stability, and a legacy of resilience for the next generation.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. I chose to pursue a degree in STEM because science gave structure to something that once saved my life. During difficult seasons marked by instability and rebuilding, physical training and disciplined movement became tools that restored my focus and confidence. What began as survival evolved into curiosity: How does the body adapt? Why does rehabilitation work? How can scientific knowledge restore mobility and dignity? That curiosity led me to kinesiology and the broader field of healthcare science. STEM, to me, is not abstract it is practical and transformative. The study of biomechanics, physiology, and evidence-based rehabilitation offers measurable solutions to real human problems. I am drawn to the analytical nature of STEM because it provides clarity in a world that often feels uncertain. Data, structure, and disciplined experimentation allow us to move beyond opinion and into measurable impact. That mindset mirrors how I approach my own life: structured, intentional, and forward-moving. As a person of color, my presence in STEM is not accidental it is necessary. Historically, Black communities have been underrepresented in healthcare sciences and medical research. This underrepresentation has consequences: mistrust in healthcare systems, disparities in treatment, and limited culturally informed care. By entering the STEM field as a future Doctor of Physical Therapy, I aim to help bridge that gap. Representation in STEM matters because innovation is shaped by perspective. My lived experiences as a former foster youth and low-income student inform how I understand access, equity, and patient engagement. I do not view healthcare solely as treatment; I see it as empowerment. Many underserved communities lack preventative education and rehabilitative resources. I plan to use my STEM education to provide culturally competent, patient-centered care that educates individuals about their bodies and gives them tools for long-term wellness. Beyond clinical practice, I hope to mentor other students of color interested in science and healthcare. I want young people to see that STEM careers are not reserved for one demographic. By sharing my journey and maintaining excellence in my studies, I aim to model what perseverance in STEM looks like. I believe innovation thrives when diversity is not just included but valued. The future of STEM requires more than technical skill it requires empathy, cultural awareness, and leadership. My goal is to integrate all three. Through evidence-based practice, community-focused healthcare, and mentorship, I intend to contribute to a STEM field that is both scientifically rigorous and socially responsive. Choosing STEM was choosing impact. As a person of color in this field, I am not just pursuing a degree I am expanding representation, strengthening community trust in science, and helping shape a more inclusive and innovative future.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. Faith has been the anchor in every season of my life especially the seasons where I had very little else to hold onto. Growing up in instability and navigating foster care, I learned early that circumstances can change quickly. What stayed consistent was my belief that God had a purpose for my life, even when I could not yet see it. There were moments when I felt uncertain about my future financial hardship, personal setbacks, and the weight of responsibility as a father. During those times, faith gave me direction when emotions gave me doubt. It reminded me that progress is built through patience, discipline, and obedience to purpose. Instead of allowing adversity to harden me, my faith softened my perspective and strengthened my resolve. It helped me understand that trials are not punishments; they are preparation. Returning to college as a first-generation, low-income student required trust. Trust that the long nights of studying would produce results. Trust that sacrificing comfort today would create stability tomorrow. Trust that even when doors seemed closed, God was redirecting me rather than denying me. Through prayer, reflection, and spiritual discipline, I developed structure in my life waking up early, setting goals, and staying accountable to both my responsibilities and my calling. Faith has also shaped how I treat others. It reminds me that every person I encounter carries unseen burdens. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I strive to lead with integrity, compassion, and humility. Leadership, in my view, is stewardship. It is about serving others rather than elevating myself. My faith calls me to represent excellence not only in achievement, but in character. As I pursue a career in physical therapy, my faith will continue to guide me. Healthcare is not just science it is service. Patients are often vulnerable, in pain, and searching for hope. I want to be the kind of provider who listens patiently, treats ethically, and serves with compassion. My belief in God reinforces my commitment to integrity, honesty, and moral responsibility in every professional decision I make. Arthur and Elana Panos built success through hard work and faith. Their story resonates with me because I believe prosperity is not just about wealth it is about building something that benefits others. My career goal is to serve underserved communities through rehabilitation, health education, and mentorship. I see my profession as a calling, not just employment. Faith has not made my life easier, but it has made me stronger. It has given me clarity in confusion, endurance in difficulty, and gratitude in growth. As I continue my education and professional journey, I carry the belief that success without integrity is empty, but success guided by faith creates lasting impact. This scholarship would support my academic path, but more importantly, it affirms the values I strive to live by hard work, moral character, and unwavering faith in the purpose God has placed before me.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. Service has shaped my life long before I chose it as a career path. Growing up in foster care and navigating financial instability taught me what it feels like to need support and not always know where to find it. Those experiences did not discourage me—they gave me direction. I learned that the people who change lives are those who choose to serve. Today, I am pursuing a degree in kinesiology with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. My journey toward healthcare began not in a hospital, but in personal rebuilding. During challenging seasons of my life, structured fitness and physical discipline became tools that helped me regain control, confidence, and clarity. Movement became more than exercise it became healing. That experience sparked my desire to understand the human body and how evidence-based care can restore mobility, dignity, and independence. As a low-income, first-generation college student, I understand the weight of limited resources. I balance academics, leadership, and fatherhood while working toward a career that will allow me to serve underserved communities. Through programs like Umoja, EOPS, and A²MEND, I actively support other students who face similar barriers. Leadership, to me, is an extension of service sharing resources, offering mentorship, and modeling discipline so others believe they can succeed as well. Healthcare is not just my profession of choice; it is my commitment to impact. Many communities particularly low-income and minority populations lack access to preventative and rehabilitative care. Injuries go untreated, chronic pain becomes normalized, and health education is often inaccessible. As a future physical therapist, I plan to work in communities where care is needed most. I want to provide culturally competent, patient-centered treatment that empowers individuals to understand and care for their own bodies. Beyond clinical work, I hope to advocate for preventative health education and mentorship for young people. I believe healthcare extends beyond treatment it includes education, accountability, and relationship-building. My goal is to eventually open a community-focused practice that integrates rehabilitation, wellness education, and mentorship programs for youth interested in health professions. Robert F. Lawson’s legacy of continued service after military retirement reflects a belief that helping others is not a phase it is a lifelong mission. I share that belief deeply. My career will not simply be about earning a degree; it will be about using that degree to uplift others and create access where it has historically been limited. This scholarship would help relieve financial strain and allow me to focus fully on my academic preparation for a demanding healthcare career. More importantly, it would support a future professional who is committed to serving others with integrity and consistency. I am not pursuing healthcare for status I am pursuing it to restore strength, mobility, and confidence in the lives of others. My past challenges shaped my empathy, my discipline shaped my focus, and my education will shape my impact.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. I want to make a change in my life because I refuse to let my past define my future. There was a time when instability, poor decisions, and lack of direction controlled my life. I grew up navigating foster care and uncertainty, and later I had to confront my own personal struggles and rebuild from the ground up. At some point, I realized that waiting for circumstances to improve was not a strategy. Change required ownership. Choosing to pursue higher education was my first real declaration of that change. Returning to college as an adult meant facing doubt, financial hardship, and the fear of failure. But I made a commitment to discipline instead of excuses. I enrolled full-time, sought support through programs like EOPS and Umoja, and immersed myself in leadership opportunities. I currently maintain strong academic standing while balancing parenthood and campus leadership. Every class I complete and every semester I finish is proof that second chances are earned through consistency. Beyond academics, I’ve worked on rebuilding my mindset. I replaced destructive habits with structured routines fitness, goal setting, and intentional planning. Studying kinesiology opened my eyes to how movement and health can restore dignity and confidence. My goal is to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve underserved communities that often lack access to quality healthcare. I want to show others that rebuilding is possible, no matter where you start. This scholarship would help relieve financial pressure so I can focus on completing my degree and continuing on the path toward professional healthcare training. As a low-income student and single father, resources are often stretched thin. Even a modest award creates breathing room room to buy textbooks without stress, to reduce work hours if necessary, and to stay locked in academically. More importantly, receiving this scholarship would affirm that someone believes in second chances the way Nelson Vecchione did. That belief matters. When someone invests in you, it strengthens your resolve to succeed not just for yourself, but for others. I fully intend to pay this forward. Through my leadership on campus, I mentor other students especially Black men and first-generation students who may feel lost or disconnected. I share my story openly because transparency breaks stigma. In the future, as a healthcare professional, I plan to work with individuals recovering from injury, trauma, or life setbacks. Healing the body often parallels healing the mind; both require patience and encouragement. A second chance is not just an opportunity it is a responsibility. I have taken concrete steps to change my trajectory: returning to school, committing to recovery and discipline, stepping into leadership, and building a career rooted in service. This scholarship would not be the beginning of my change; it would be fuel to continue it. I am ready to prove that when someone is given a second chance and chooses to honor it, the impact extends far beyond one life.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, and single father. The challenges I’ve faced throughout my life didn’t push me away from healthcare they pulled me toward it. Growing up in instability, navigating foster care, and later becoming a single parent taught me early that healing is not just physical. It’s emotional, mental, and deeply connected to whether someone feels supported, understood, and seen. Those experiences are the foundation of my decision to pursue a career in healthcare. I learned resilience before I learned anatomy. As a young adult, I faced housing insecurity, financial hardship, and the responsibility of raising a child while trying to rebuild my life. During that time, physical movement became my anchor. Fitness and disciplined routines helped me regulate stress, regain confidence, and create structure when everything else felt uncertain. What started as survival evolved into purpose. I became deeply interested in how the body heals, adapts, and recovers and how proper care can restore dignity and independence. Being a single parent has sharpened my empathy. I understand what it means to push through pain because someone depends on you. I know what it feels like to delay your own needs while still showing up fully. These experiences influence how I approach healthcare not as a transaction, but as a relationship built on trust. Patients are not just injuries or diagnoses; they are people carrying responsibilities, fears, and stories that matter. My academic path in kinesiology is a direct response to the gaps I’ve seen in healthcare access and education, especially in underserved communities. Too often, people delay care because they feel unheard, misunderstood, or financially overwhelmed. I want to change that. My goal is to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve communities where preventative care and rehabilitation are often overlooked. I plan to provide care that is culturally informed, patient-centered, and rooted in education so individuals can understand their bodies and take ownership of their healing. The challenges I’ve faced have also prepared me for the rigor of healthcare training. I am no stranger to long days, sacrifice, or perseverance. Balancing parenthood, leadership roles, and demanding coursework has strengthened my discipline and time management. More importantly, it has reinforced my “why.” I am not pursuing healthcare for prestige I am pursuing it to make a tangible difference. RELEVANCE is about meaning, and my life has taught me that struggle is not wasted. Every challenge refined my focus and clarified my purpose. I bring lived experience, empathy, and resilience into my pursuit of medicine. Those qualities will allow me to connect with patients authentically and advocate for care that treats the whole person, not just the condition. This scholarship would help relieve financial pressure and allow me to stay focused on my education and training. More than that, it affirms that lived experience matters in healthcare. I intend to honor that belief by becoming a provider who not only heals bodies, but restores confidence, mobility, and hope especially for those who need it most.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. I am also a single father. The most challenging part of being both a student and a single parent is that there is no separation between responsibility and ambition. There is no “pause button.” Every decision I make how I manage my time, my finances, my energy affects not only my future, but my child’s as well. As a single father, my days are structured around responsibility. My child depends on me emotionally, financially, and physically. At the same time, my education demands focus, consistency, and long hours of study. Balancing coursework, exams, leadership responsibilities, and parenting means sacrificing sleep, personal comfort, and sometimes peace of mind. There are nights when I study after my child is asleep, mornings when I wake up early to train my body and mind, and days when exhaustion is present but quitting is never an option. One of the hardest challenges is financial pressure. As a low-income student parent, every dollar has a purpose. Tuition, books, transportation, food, and childcare expenses compete constantly. Unexpected costs don’t just cause stress they can derail progress. I often have to plan weeks ahead just to make sure everything aligns. While many students can focus solely on academics, single parents must balance survival and success simultaneously. Another challenge is emotional weight. Being present for my child while carrying academic pressure requires discipline and emotional control. I am intentional about showing up as a steady, dependable parent even when I feel overwhelmed. My child may not understand the details of my education, but they understand consistency, effort, and love. That is something I refuse to compromise. Despite these challenges, being a parent is also my greatest source of motivation. My child is the reason I returned to school. I want to model resilience, discipline, and purpose. I want my child to grow up knowing that circumstances do not determine destiny that commitment and effort matter. Every exam I pass, every leadership role I take on, and every obstacle I overcome is a lesson I’m teaching without words. This scholarship would be transformative. Financial support from the Organic Formula Shop Single Parent Scholarship would relieve immediate pressure and allow me to focus more fully on my education and parenting. It would help cover essential academic costs and reduce the constant stress of choosing between school-related expenses and family needs. More importantly, it would provide stability something every single parent understands the value of. In the long term, this scholarship supports more than just my education; it supports generational change. I am pursuing a degree in kinesiology with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I plan to serve underserved communities through healthcare, education, and mentorship. With a completed degree, I can provide long-term financial stability, healthcare access, and opportunity for my child. Education is not just a personal goal it is a foundation for our future.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. This scholarship opportunity is meaningful to me because my faith has been the one constant through seasons of uncertainty, hardship, and rebuilding. When resources were limited and direction felt unclear, faith gave me something solid to stand on. It helped me believe that my life had purpose even when circumstances suggested otherwise. I grew up facing instability and spent part of my youth in the foster care system. Later in life, I encountered additional challenges including housing insecurity, financial hardship, and the responsibility of becoming a father while trying to redefine my future. There were moments when continuing forward felt overwhelming. What carried me through those times was faith not blind optimism, but a disciplined belief that endurance, humility, and service would eventually lead to growth. Faith taught me patience. It reminded me that progress is often slow and that character is built in the waiting. When I returned to college as a first-generation student, I leaned on prayer, reflection, and spiritual discipline to stay focused and grounded. I approached my studies with intention, trusting that consistent effort would bear fruit. That mindset helped me succeed academically while managing leadership responsibilities and personal obligations. My faith also shaped how I serve others. I believe that service is a reflection of belief in action. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I work to support and uplift Black male students who are navigating college while carrying their own burdens. I strive to lead with compassion, accountability, and integrity—values rooted in my spiritual foundation. Faith reminds me that leadership is not about control, but about responsibility and care for others. Jim Maxwell’s legacy resonates with me because it reflects a holistic approach to youth development—spiritual, emotional, physical, and mental. I share that belief deeply. My academic path in kinesiology and my goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy are extensions of that same vision. I want to help people heal, regain confidence in their bodies, and restore balance in their lives. I see healthcare as a form of ministry meeting people where they are and helping them move forward with dignity. Financially, this scholarship would ease a significant burden and allow me to focus more fully on my education and service. More importantly, it would affirm that faith-driven perseverance matters. It would be a reminder that when you remain committed to your values, support can arrive at the right moment. Looking ahead, I plan to continue using my faith as a guiding force in every step of my journey. Whether through healthcare, mentorship, or community leadership, I intend to live out my beliefs through action. My goal is not only to succeed personally, but to help create pathways for others to do the same. This opportunity represents more than financial assistance it represents trust, encouragement, and belief in a future shaped by faith, service, and purpose. I am committed to honoring that trust by continuing to grow, serve, and lead with integrity.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. One moment in foster care that still makes me proud of my resilience didn’t involve a dramatic breakthrough it involved consistency. I was eighteen, nearing the end of my time in the foster system, and everything around me felt uncertain. I didn’t know where I would live next, who I could rely on, or what my future would look like. What I did know was that no one was going to organize my life for me anymore. I had to do that myself. During that time, I made a decision to stop waiting for stability and start creating it. I kept showing up to school, to responsibilities, to daily routines even when the system around me felt temporary. I learned how to manage my own schedule, advocate for myself with adults and caseworkers, and stay disciplined despite the emotional weight of knowing I was on my own. There was no applause for that effort, but it was the first time I realized I was capable of carrying myself forward without external structure. That experience reshaped how I face challenges today. Being in foster care taught me that resilience is not loud it is steady. It’s waking up and doing what needs to be done even when there’s fear, doubt, or exhaustion. That mindset followed me into adulthood and eventually into higher education. When I returned to college years later as a first-generation student, I wasn’t intimidated by difficulty. I had already learned how to adapt, how to endure, and how to keep going when circumstances weren’t ideal. Academically, I approach challenges with patience and strategy. When coursework becomes demanding, I break it down and stay consistent rather than overwhelmed. Financially, I seek out resources and advocate for myself instead of assuming help is unavailable. Personally, I no longer equate struggle with failure. Foster care taught me that difficulty is not a stop sign it’s a training ground. That resilience now fuels my leadership and service. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I support other students many of whom are also navigating instability, trauma, or lack of guidance. I don’t lead from theory; I lead from lived experience. I know what it feels like to grow up fast, to figure things out alone, and to still want more from life. That understanding allows me to meet others with empathy rather than judgment. Foster care didn’t just shape my past it prepared me for my future. It taught me discipline, adaptability, and emotional strength that continue to guide my academic and professional goals. As I pursue a career in physical therapy, I carry those lessons with me, knowing that resilience is something that can be built, shared, and passed forward. The moment I became proud of myself in foster care was the moment I realized I didn’t need perfect conditions to move forward. I needed commitment. That realization changed everything and it continues to shape how I face every challenge today.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. As a first-generation college student, empathy is not something I learned in a textbook it is something life demanded of me. Navigating higher education without a blueprint has required adaptability, emotional intelligence, and the ability to understand people whose experiences differ from my own. These skills now shape how I plan to contribute to a more empathetic and understanding global community. One of my greatest strengths is my ability to connect across differences. Growing up without consistent guidance and later returning to college as an adult, I learned how to listen deeply, communicate honestly, and meet people where they are. Whether in classrooms, student organizations, or community spaces, I have learned that people feel understood when they are truly heard. This skill has allowed me to build trust, foster collaboration, and create spaces where others feel safe to express themselves. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I use these skills daily. I support Black male students many of whom are also first-generation and low-income by encouraging dialogue around academic challenges, mental health, accountability, and self-belief. My role is not to speak for others, but to amplify voices that are often overlooked. Leadership, to me, is rooted in empathy: understanding the pressures people carry and helping them navigate systems that were not designed with them in mind. My academic focus in kinesiology further reflects my commitment to empathy on a global scale. The human body is universal, but access to care is not. Through my studies, I am learning how movement, rehabilitation, and education can restore dignity and independence to people across cultures and communities. I plan to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and work in underserved populations where physical pain is often compounded by economic and social barriers. Healing the body requires understanding the person and that principle transcends borders. Beyond clinical work, I aim to use education and mentorship to foster empathy across communities. I plan to mentor first-generation and returning students, sharing practical knowledge while also normalizing uncertainty and growth. By showing others that struggle is not failure, I hope to reduce stigma and build a culture of compassion within academic and professional spaces. Empathy is built through action. It is strengthened when people feel seen, respected, and supported. My unique talents listening, leadership, discipline, and service allow me to contribute to a global community that values understanding over judgment and collaboration over division. The Harry & Mary Sheaffer Scholarship would support not only my education, but my ability to continue building bridges between people, cultures, and systems. As a first-generation student, I know that progress is rarely individual. By using my skills to uplift others, I aim to contribute to a more humane, empathetic, and connected world one relationship, one classroom, and one community at a time.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. The legacy of Sgt. Albert Dono Ware represents service beyond self, courage in the face of uncertainty, and sacrifice for a collective future. Those values service, sacrifice, and bravery have profoundly shaped my personal journey and continue to guide how I envision addressing the challenges facing the African diaspora in the United States today. Service, for me, began as survival. Growing up with instability and later navigating housing insecurity and recovery, I learned early that no one succeeds alone. The people who changed my trajectory were those who chose to show up counselors, mentors, educators, and community leaders who invested time and care when it would have been easier to look away. That understanding transformed service from an abstract concept into a personal obligation. Today, service is how I honor the help I received by extending it forward. As an undergraduate student, I serve my campus and community through leadership and advocacy. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I work directly with Black male students—many of whom are first-generation, low-income, or returning students who face systemic barriers to persistence in higher education. I help organize meetings, advocate for resources, and create spaces where accountability, brotherhood, and academic excellence are normalized. This work reflects Sgt. Ware’s example: leadership rooted not in title, but in responsibility to others. Sacrifice has also shaped my path. Returning to college as an adult required giving up comfort, financial stability, and familiarity in exchange for long-term purpose. I balance rigorous coursework, leadership responsibilities, and fatherhood while remaining committed to my education. Sacrifice, I’ve learned, is not about loss it is about choosing what matters most and standing by that choice even when the cost is high. That mindset fuels my pursuit of a career in physical therapy, where service often requires patience, emotional labor, and long-term commitment to community well-being. Bravery, finally, has meant finding my voice. For many in the African diaspora, silence is often mistaken for safety. Speaking up about inequitable education systems, healthcare disparities, or underrepresentation requires courage. I have learned to advocate for myself and others in academic spaces that were not designed with people like me in mind. Bravery is continuing to show up, even when progress feels slow. These values inform my vision for addressing current challenges faced by the African diaspora in the United States. Among the most pressing issues are inequitable access to education, lack of culturally competent healthcare, and insufficient investment in preventative wellness in Black communities. These challenges are interconnected and demand coordinated solutions. One critical reform is strengthening pathways from community colleges to four-year institutions and professional programs. Policies that expand funding for transfer support programs, mentorship initiatives, and basic needs resources would directly impact persistence and graduation rates for African American students. Educational institutions must partner with community-based organizations to ensure students are supported academically and holistically. Another essential reform is expanding access to preventative and rehabilitative healthcare in underserved communities. As a future physical therapist, I see the need for community clinics that integrate physical health education, injury prevention, and culturally informed care. Policy support for funding community health centers and incentivizing healthcare professionals to serve in high-need areas is vital. Key stakeholders in driving this change include educational institutions, local and state policymakers, healthcare systems, nonprofit organizations, and community leaders. Organizations like United African Organization play a crucial role by bridging policy, advocacy, and grassroots action. Change happens when those closest to the problem are included in shaping the solution. Sgt. Albert Dono Ware’s life reminds us that service and bravery are not abstract ideals they are lived commitments. His sacrifice inspires me to pursue a life rooted in impact rather than comfort. I aim to honor his legacy by serving my community through education, healthcare, and leadership, and by working toward systems that allow future generations of the African diaspora not just to survive, but to thrive.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. Giving back has never been something I do for recognition it has been a necessity, a responsibility, and a way to stay grounded. My life experiences have shown me what it feels like to navigate systems without guidance or support, and that reality fuels my commitment to service today. Currently, I give back through campus-based leadership and community-centered wellness efforts. As President of A²MEND at Los Angeles City College, I help create spaces for Black male students to feel supported, accountable, and encouraged to persist in higher education. Many of the men I serve are first-generation, low-income, or returning students who face academic and personal barriers similar to those I’ve experienced. Through meetings, mentorship, and collaboration with campus programs, I work to ensure students feel seen, heard, and capable of success. I am also actively involved in Umoja and EOPS, programs that emphasize academic persistence, cultural affirmation, and holistic support. Within these spaces, I contribute by sharing resources, encouraging peer accountability, and modeling discipline through consistent academic effort. Service, for me, is not just volunteering hours it is showing up with consistency, integrity, and empathy. Beyond campus leadership, I give back through wellness advocacy. Fitness and movement played a major role in my own healing, and I now use that knowledge to encourage others to reconnect with their bodies through healthy routines, structure, and discipline. I believe wellness is a form of service, especially in communities that often lack access to preventive care and health education. Looking forward, my goal is to expand my impact through healthcare and education. I am pursuing a career as a Doctor of Physical Therapy so I can serve underserved communities with culturally informed, accessible care. I plan to open a holistic physical therapy and wellness clinic that not only treats injury, but also educates clients on movement, recovery, and long-term health. I want this space to be a resource for families, athletes, and individuals who are often overlooked by traditional healthcare systems. In addition to clinical work, I plan to continue mentoring students especially Black men navigating community college and transfer pathways. Representation matters, and I want to be someone who demonstrates that perseverance, service, and education can coexist. Priscilla Shireen Luke’s legacy of hope and service resonates deeply with me. Her commitment to uplifting others reflects the values I strive to live by daily. This scholarship would support my continued education and service, allowing me to focus more fully on giving back through leadership, learning, and long-term community impact. Service is not something I plan to start in the future it is already a part of who I am. My goal is simply to deepen it, expand it, and ensure that the help I once needed becomes the help I now provide to others.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and EOPS, President of A²MEND LACC. I am a student-athlete in spirit, a community advocate in action, and a lifelong learner driven by discipline, service, and resilience. My journey to higher education has not been traditional, but it has shaped a work ethic and sense of purpose that guides everything I do today. Sports and physical training have been central to my life. Through consistent strength training, calisthenics, and movement-based fitness, I learned the value of discipline, repetition, and mental toughness. Athletics taught me how to show up even when motivation is low, how to respect the process, and how to push through discomfort with focus and integrity. These lessons now translate directly into my academic success as a kinesiology major and my long-term goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. Beyond personal fitness, I am deeply committed to community service. I actively serve on campus through organizations such as Umoja and A²MEND, where I currently serve as President. In this role, I help create spaces for Black male students to find support, accountability, and encouragement as they navigate college life. I organize meetings, support student engagement, and advocate for men who may otherwise feel unseen or disconnected from higher education. Community service, to me, means showing up consistently and leading by example. Kalia D. Davis’s story resonates deeply with me. Her excellence in academics, athletics, leadership, and service reflects the values I strive to live by daily. Like Kalia, I believe in doing my best in every role I take on student, leader, athlete, and father. Her commitment to excellence, joy, and perseverance is a reminder that impact is built through intention, kindness, and effort. This scholarship would provide meaningful support as I continue my education and prepare to transfer to a California State University for a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology, followed by a Doctor of Physical Therapy program. As a low-income student, financial support directly affects my ability to focus on rigorous science coursework, clinical preparation, and continued community involvement without the constant pressure of financial strain. More than financial assistance, this scholarship represents belief belief in students who work hard, give back, and aim to leave a positive legacy. I intend to honor that belief by continuing to serve my community through health, education, and mentorship. I want to help others move better, live stronger, and believe in what’s possible for their own lives. Receiving the Kalia D. Davis Memorial Scholarship would not only help me advance academically, but it would also strengthen my commitment to living, loving, learning, and building a legacy rooted in service and excellence values that Kalia embodied so beautifully.

My name is Darryl Thomas, a 34-year-old Black man, kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing Physical Therapy; low-income, former foster youth, member of Umoja and President of A²MEND LACC. For a long time, silence was my survival strategy. Growing up in unstable environments and later navigating addiction and housing insecurity, I learned that staying quiet often felt safer than speaking up. I believed my voice carried more risk than value. That belief followed me into adulthood, shaping how I showed up or didn’t in classrooms, relationships, and leadership spaces. One defining moment came during my first semester back in college. I was enrolled in Public Speaking, a class that terrified me more than anatomy exams ever could. When it was my turn to give a speech, my hands shook, my voice tightened, and for a moment I considered sitting back down. I felt exposed not because I didn’t know the material, but because speaking meant being seen. I spoke anyway. I talked about discipline, recovery, and how fitness had helped me rebuild my life. When I finished, the room was quiet, then full of applause. Several classmates later told me they felt seen through my words. That moment changed everything. I realized communication isn’t about sounding perfect it’s about being honest. Confidence isn’t the absence of fear; it’s moving forward despite it. Using my voice didn’t weaken me. It grounded me. It allowed me to reclaim my narrative instead of letting others define it for me. Since then, I’ve learned to use my voice with purpose. As President of A²MEND at LACC, I speak up for Black male students navigating college systems that were not built with us in mind. I communicate with administrators, organize meetings, and create space for men who feel unheard to speak openly about academics, mental health, and accountability. In Umoja and EOPS, I advocate for students who, like me, are low-income and balancing life while pursuing education. I’m also studying kinesiology because I believe the body tells a story and physical therapy is another form of communication. It’s about listening, educating, and empowering people to trust their bodies again. My long-term goal is to become a Doctor of Physical Therapy and serve underserved communities where access to care and encouragement is limited. I want to use my voice to educate, motivate, and heal both verbally and through action. What I’ve learned is this: when people like me speak, we don’t just share experiences we open doors. My voice now represents resilience, accountability, and possibility. I plan to keep using it to challenge systems, uplift my community, and remind others that their stories matter too even if they once believed silence was safer.

Recovery, to me, is not just abstaining from substances it is reclaiming my life with intention, discipline, and honesty. Recovery means choosing clarity over chaos and responsibility over escape, even when that choice is difficult. It is the daily commitment to show up for myself, my education, and my son with integrity. Recovery taught me structure. I learned how to build routines that support my physical, mental, and emotional health. Fitness became a foundation for my recovery movement replaced self-destruction, and discipline replaced avoidance. Through recovery, I discovered that healing is not passive; it requires action, accountability, and patience. Being clean for over a year has allowed me to pursue higher education with focus and purpose. As a kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College, I’ve maintained strong academic performance while engaging in leadership and community-based programs that emphasize growth and service. Recovery gave me the confidence to believe in long-term goals, including becoming a physical therapist and serving underserved communities through holistic care. Most importantly, recovery means hope. It means understanding that my past does not define my future. I am no longer surviving I am building. Recovery is the reason I am moving forward with clarity, ambition, and gratitude for the second chance I’ve earned.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College in pursuit of a Physical Therapy degree. I am a former foster youth, a member of Umoja and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. My path to higher education has been shaped by adversity, but also by resilience, service, and a commitment to giving back. One of the most defining challenges I faced was navigating adulthood after experiencing foster care. When you age out of systems without a strong safety net, independence comes fast and without instructions. Financial instability, inconsistent housing, and limited guidance made it difficult to imagine long-term goals, let alone pursue college. For a period of time, survival took priority over education. That experience taught me how easily potential can be delayed not because of lack of ability, but because of lack of support. Returning to school as an adult learner meant confronting fear and self-doubt. I questioned whether I belonged in academic spaces and whether it was too late to start over. On top of that, I had to manage financial pressure, family responsibilities, and the emotional weight of past instability. There were moments when continuing felt overwhelming. What helped me overcome those moments was deciding to move with intention instead of fear. I broke my goals into manageable steps, sought out campus support programs, and committed to consistency even when progress felt slow. That adversity shaped how I view education and leadership. I no longer see success as a straight line. I see it as persistence showing up, asking for help, and staying committed when quitting would be easier. My experiences have made me more disciplined, empathetic, and accountable. They’ve also fueled my desire to support others navigating similar challenges. Through volunteering and student leadership, I work to give back to my community by mentoring peers, connecting students to resources, and creating spaces where people feel supported rather than judged. As President of A²MEND LACC, I help organize and sustain efforts focused on mentorship, wellness, and encouragement for Black men in higher education. Much of this work is voluntary and relational checking in, listening, and reminding others that they’re capable of more than their circumstances suggest. If I could offer advice to someone facing similar adversity, it would be this: don’t let your current situation convince you that your future is limited. Ask for support early, use every resource available to you, and don’t measure your progress against someone else’s timeline. Strength isn’t pretending you don’t need help it’s building systems that allow you to grow. Adversity didn’t disqualify me; it clarified my purpose. It taught me the value of education, the importance of service, and the responsibility to lift others as I move forward. I am committed to continuing my education, serving underserved communities through healthcare, and using my experiences to help others navigate their own challenges with confidence and hope.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I am also a former foster youth, a member of the Umoja Program and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. My experience in foster care has shaped who I am, how I approach education, and why stability and opportunity matter so deeply to me. Growing up connected to the foster care system meant learning how to adapt quickly. Stability was never guaranteed, and support systems often changed without warning. As a young person, I learned independence early not because I was ready, but because I had to be. While those experiences built resilience, they also created gaps: limited financial support, inconsistent guidance, and the feeling that you are navigating adulthood without a safety net. Those challenges didn’t disappear when I decided to pursue higher education. Returning to college as a former foster youth and adult learner meant balancing academics with financial pressure, housing concerns, and basic necessities that many students can take for granted. Textbooks, transportation, and everyday expenses became obstacles that required careful planning and constant problem-solving. At times, the stress of simply staying afloat made it difficult to focus solely on school. Despite these challenges, I chose to continue because education represents stability, agency, and long-term opportunity. I returned to college with intention, knowing that I could not afford to drift or delay. Every class I take and every semester I complete is a step toward breaking cycles that too often affect former foster youth. I am committed to building a future grounded in consistency not just for myself, but for my family and the communities I hope to serve. Furthering my education will allow me to achieve my goal of working in healthcare, where I can support others through healing, rehabilitation, and education. I chose kinesiology and physical therapy because movement, health, and recovery are deeply tied to quality of life. Many individuals who have experienced foster care or financial hardship lack access to consistent, compassionate healthcare. I want to be a provider who understands that background not just clinically, but personally. My foster care experience has also shaped how I show up for others. As a student leader and mentor, I work to create spaces where students feel supported, encouraged, and seen. I understand how powerful it can be when someone believes in you during moments when quitting feels easier than continuing. That understanding guides how I lead and how I plan to serve in my future career. This scholarship would provide meaningful support by easing financial pressure and allowing me to remain focused on my education and leadership responsibilities. More importantly, it represents investment in someone who has navigated instability and chosen purpose anyway. For former foster youth, opportunity can be the difference between surviving and thriving. By continuing my education, I am building the foundation for a stable, service-driven future one where I can give back, uplift others, and become the kind of support I once needed.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I am also a former foster youth, a member of the Umoja Program and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. My life experiences have taught me the importance of relationships, compassion, and using what you’ve been given to uplift others. Growing up connected to the foster care system shaped how I understand stability, trust, and belonging. When consistency isn’t guaranteed, relationships become anchors. I learned early that the people who show up teachers, counselors, mentors, and family can change the direction of your life simply by caring and staying present. Those experiences made me deeply value human connection and empathy, not as abstract ideas, but as necessities. The most important relationships in my life today are those rooted in accountability and support. As a father, I’m constantly reminded that my actions matter beyond myself. I strive to lead with patience, presence, and integrity because I want my son to grow up seeing what perseverance and compassion look like in practice. On campus, I’ve built meaningful relationships through mentorship and leadership, especially with students navigating hardship, self-doubt, or instability. I understand how powerful it can be when someone believes in you during moments when you’re unsure you can keep going. My passion for helping others is closely tied to my academic and career goals. I chose kinesiology and physical therapy because I believe movement, health, and recovery are deeply connected to quality of life. Too many people especially those from underserved or foster-impacted backgrounds don’t have access to consistent, supportive healthcare. I want to be part of changing that by providing care that is patient-centered, respectful, and grounded in trust. This scholarship would have a meaningful impact on my ability to continue my education without added financial strain. Beyond covering costs, it would allow me to stay focused on academic excellence, leadership, and service. Reducing financial pressure creates space to give back more fully to mentor students, organize support efforts, and remain engaged in my community while preparing for a career dedicated to helping others heal and thrive. Thomas Griffin Wilson’s story reflects values that deeply resonate with me: kindness, curiosity, love for learning, and meaningful relationships. His bond with his sister who experienced foster care speaks to the power of empathy and understanding across lived experiences. I intend to honor that spirit by carrying compassion forward through my education, my relationships, and my future work in healthcare. With this support, I will continue building a life centered on service, connection, and giving others the support I once needed. That is how I plan to make a lasting difference in the broader community.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I am a former foster youth, a member of Umoja and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. I am also someone who expresses an alternative identity through my presentation, including tattoos and a personal style that doesn’t always align with traditional expectations in academic or healthcare spaces. From the beginning of my journey in STEM and healthcare, I’ve been aware that how I look can shape how I’m perceived. There are assumptions about professionalism, seriousness, or belonging that come with not fitting a conventional mold. Early on, I had to decide whether I would minimize who I am to be accepted, or show up authentically and let my work speak for itself. I chose the latter. My alternative presentation has actually strengthened my commitment to STEM. It has forced me to be disciplined, prepared, and intentional in how I show up academically and professionally. I understand that in science and healthcare, credibility is built through consistency, knowledge, and integrity not conformity. Every class I take, every leadership role I hold, and every standard I meet reinforces that competence and individuality are not opposites. There have been challenges. In some academic and professional environments, deviation from the expected appearance can create distance or skepticism. I’ve learned to navigate those moments with confidence rather than defensiveness. Instead of shrinking, I focus on clarity, communication, and excellence. Over time, that approach has shifted perceptions. People begin to see that skill, empathy, and discipline are not defined by aesthetics. Being visibly alternative has also shaped how I connect with others. In healthcare especially, trust matters. Many people particularly those from marginalized or underserved backgrounds feel more at ease with providers who feel human and approachable. I’ve found that authenticity can lower barriers, invite honest conversation, and help patients and peers feel seen rather than judged. That matters deeply in fields centered on care and healing. As a student leader and mentor, I bring this perspective into how I support others. I encourage students who feel out of place in STEM to understand that difference does not disqualify them it can strengthen them. STEM needs people who think differently, who challenge norms, and who bring varied life experiences into problem-solving. Innovation doesn’t come from uniformity; it comes from diversity of thought, background, and expression. Looking ahead, I see myself contributing to the future of healthcare by combining scientific expertise with cultural awareness and authenticity. As a physical therapist, I want to serve communities where trust in healthcare systems may be fragile and representation is limited. I believe providers who reflect a wide range of identities and experiences help make STEM fields more accessible, compassionate, and effective. The Goths Belong in STEM Scholarship represents something larger than financial support it affirms that alternative students belong in spaces of science, healthcare, and innovation. I am committed to building a career rooted in evidence-based practice, service, and authenticity. I don’t believe success requires erasing who you are. I believe it requires showing up fully, doing the work, and expanding what leadership and professionalism can look like. That is how I intend to contribute to the future of STEM

Selected Paragraph (Ancient Philosophy) “And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads.” Plato, The Republic, Book VII (The Allegory of the Cave) Essay: Knowledge as Liberation, Not Comfort Thesis: In this passage from The Republic, Plato argues that ignorance is not merely a lack of information, but a condition of captivity sustained by comfort, habit, and fear of disruption. True education, therefore, is not the passive acquisition of knowledge but a painful process of liberation that fundamentally reshapes one’s understanding of reality and responsibility. Plato’s description of human beings “living in an underground den” is often read as a metaphor for ignorance, but a close reading reveals something more unsettling: the prisoners are not unaware that they are confined. They are accustomed to confinement. The chains that restrict their movement are not portrayed as actively enforced violence; they are simply part of the environment in which the prisoners have always lived. This suggests that the most powerful form of ignorance is not imposed by force, but normalized through familiarity. The detail that the prisoners have been in the cave “from their childhood” is crucial. Plato is emphasizing that belief systems are inherited long before they are questioned. What we accept as reality is shaped early, reinforced repeatedly, and rarely challenged unless something interrupts the cycle. The prisoners’ inability to “turn round their heads” represents more than physical limitation it symbolizes intellectual rigidity. They are not incapable of thought; they are constrained by orientation. Their entire framework of understanding faces in only one direction. Plato’s use of vision as the dominant sense in this metaphor is deliberate. Sight represents perception, and perception shapes belief. The prisoners can “only see before them,” meaning that their understanding of the world is filtered through a narrow, controlled perspective. This is not because the world lacks depth, but because their position prevents them from accessing it. In this way, Plato suggests that ignorance is often situational rather than intellectual. People do not fail to understand because they lack intelligence, but because their environment limits what they are exposed to and what they are encouraged to question. The cave itself is not described as overtly cruel. This is significant. Plato does not depict the prisoners as suffering in obvious ways. They are not starving or in pain. Their condition is tolerable, even stable. This reflects one of Plato’s most radical claims: ignorance persists not because it is unbearable, but because it is comfortable. Liberation becomes threatening precisely because it disrupts what feels normal. Education, then, is not immediately appealing it is destabilizing. By framing enlightenment as movement turning the head, leaving the cave Plato positions knowledge as an active transformation rather than a passive reception. The prisoner must physically reorient himself. This implies that learning requires effort, resistance, and often discomfort. One cannot remain unchanged and become enlightened at the same time. To learn is to move, and movement risks pain. What is often overlooked in this passage is Plato’s moral implication. If ignorance is a form of captivity, then knowledge carries ethical weight. To see more clearly is not merely to know more—it is to bear responsibility. Those who escape the cave cannot simply enjoy their freedom; they are burdened with awareness. This introduces a tension between personal liberation and communal obligation. Knowledge separates the individual from the group, yet demands engagement with it. Plato’s metaphor also critiques societies that mistake familiarity for truth. The shadows on the wall are not lies in the traditional sense; they are representations mistaken for reality. This distinction matters. Plato is not accusing the ignorant of believing falsehoods knowingly, but of mistaking appearances for essence. The danger lies not in deception, but in unexamined acceptance. Close reading this passage reveals Plato’s belief that education is inherently disruptive. It challenges identity, destabilizes certainty, and forces confrontation with one’s prior assumptions. The cave is not simply a place of darkness; it is a structure that rewards compliance and punishes deviation. To turn away from the shadows is to risk alienation. Ultimately, Plato’s underlying message is not elitist, but demanding. He does not argue that only a few are capable of understanding truth; he argues that few are willing to endure the transformation required to pursue it. Enlightenment is not withheld it is resisted. In this way, the allegory remains deeply relevant. It reminds us that education is not about accumulating facts, but about questioning the frameworks that shape our perception. The most difficult truths are not those we cannot see, but those we are afraid to face because they require us to change.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College in pursuit of a Physical Therapy degree. I am a former foster youth, a member of the Umoja Program and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. Service has always been central to my leadership because I understand firsthand how powerful it can be when someone shows up for you without expecting anything in return. One of the most meaningful volunteering efforts I have organized is through my leadership with A²MEND LACC. As president, I worked with other student leaders to rebuild the organization’s structure, re-engage members, and plan service-oriented activities focused on mentorship, wellness, and community support. These efforts were not mandatory or tied to requirements; they were driven by the shared belief that Black men on campus deserve spaces rooted in accountability, encouragement, and belonging. Through A²MEND, I have helped organize wellness-based community activities, peer mentorship opportunities, and informal support spaces where students could talk openly about academic pressure, mental health, finances, and life challenges. In addition to planning these efforts, I volunteer my time consistently by checking in with students one-on-one, helping them stay enrolled, connect to resources, and believe in their ability to succeed. Many of the students I support are navigating obstacles similar to those I’ve faced, which makes the service deeply personal. Outside of structured leadership roles, my volunteering often happens in everyday moments. I support classmates who are overwhelmed, help peers understand campus resources, and encourage students who are considering giving up to keep going. I’ve learned that service doesn’t always look like large events; sometimes it’s consistency, presence, and follow-through that matter most. Leadership through service is important to me because it builds trust and community in ways authority alone never can. True leadership is not about position or recognition it’s about responsibility. When people know you’re willing to give your time, listen without judgment, and take action when something needs to be done, they’re more likely to believe in themselves and in the collective. Service-based leadership creates a ripple effect: one person supported becomes someone who supports others. This philosophy aligns strongly with the mission of Students Today Leaders Forever. Leadership revealed through service, relationships, and action reflects how I approach both education and life. I believe leadership should uplift rather than dominate, empower rather than control. My goal is always to leave spaces stronger than I found them. As I continue my education and move toward a career in healthcare, leadership through service will remain a guiding principle. Whether mentoring students, organizing community wellness efforts, or working with future patients, I intend to lead by example showing that giving back is not a side project, but a lifelong commitment. Paying it forward is not just something I do; it’s how I live.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income, non-traditional undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College in pursuit of a Physical Therapy degree. I was raised in a low-income household, and those circumstances taught me early that perseverance isn’t optional it’s a survival skill. Growing up with limited resources meant learning how to adapt quickly. I learned to value discipline, consistency, and accountability because there was no safety net to fall back on. When challenges came up, quitting was never an option; figuring it out was. Those lessons shaped how I approach life today, especially as a student balancing academics, leadership, and long-term goals. Coming from a low-income background has also given me perspective. I understand how barriers like textbook costs, transportation, and basic supplies can derail progress if they’re not addressed. That awareness pushes me to stay proactive, organized, and resourceful as I pursue my education. I am actively working toward my goals by maintaining a strong academic record, taking a full course load, and serving as President of A²MEND LACC, where I help support and mentor other students navigating similar challenges. I plan to use my education and lived experience to serve underserved communities through healthcare, focusing on prevention, education, and rehabilitation. My background didn’t limit me it prepared me. I intend to turn those lessons into impact by helping others move forward with confidence, stability, and access to opportunity.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College pursuing a Physical Therapy degree. I am low-income, a former foster youth, a member of the Umoja Program and EOPS, and the President of A²MEND LACC. I am also a student living with ADHD, a condition that has significantly shaped my beliefs, relationships, leadership style, and career aspirations. For much of my life, ADHD showed up as difficulty with focus, organization, and consistency especially in traditional academic environments that reward linear thinking and rigid structure. For a long time, I internalized those challenges as personal shortcomings rather than understanding them as part of how my brain works. It wasn’t until adulthood that I began to recognize ADHD not as a limitation, but as something that required different strategies, stronger systems, and more self-awareness. Living with ADHD has reshaped my beliefs about intelligence and success. I no longer believe that capability is defined by speed or ease. I believe it is defined by persistence, adaptability, and the willingness to build systems that support growth. Returning to college as a non-traditional student meant learning how to manage time intentionally, break tasks into manageable steps, and advocate for myself when I needed clarity or support. These practices didn’t just help me succeed academically they helped me rebuild confidence in my ability to thrive. My experience with ADHD has also deeply influenced my relationships. I’ve learned the importance of clear communication, patience, and accountability. Because I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed or misunderstood, I approach others with empathy rather than judgment. This has strengthened my ability to connect with peers, mentors, and students I lead. People often come to me not because I have all the answers, but because I listen, understand complexity, and don’t dismiss struggle. As President of A²MEND LACC, my leadership is directly informed by my experience with ADHD. I prioritize structure, transparency, and consistency not just for myself, but for the organization. I understand that many students, especially Black men navigating higher education, are managing invisible challenges while trying to succeed. I lead in a way that normalizes asking for help, building routines, and using support systems without shame. My goal is to create environments where students don’t feel broken for needing support. My career aspirations are also shaped by this lived experience. I am pursuing physical therapy because I believe healthcare should be holistic, patient-centered, and grounded in understanding how physical, mental, and neurological factors intersect. Living with ADHD has taught me that treatment and education must be individualized. People don’t heal or learn the same way. As a future healthcare professional, I want to bring that understanding into my practice, especially when working with underserved populations who may already feel overlooked by systems not designed for them. ADHD has not held me back it has forced me to grow intentionally. It has strengthened my discipline, sharpened my empathy, and shaped me into a leader who builds systems instead of expecting people to simply “push through.” This scholarship represents more than financial support; it represents recognition that students with disabilities belong in higher education and leadership spaces. I am committed to continuing my education, serving my community, and leading with understanding, structure, and compassion values shaped directly by my experience with disability.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income, non-traditional undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with the long-term goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I am also a former foster youth, a member of the Umoja Program and EOPS, and President of A²MEND LACC. My journey into healthcare is rooted in lived experience, service, and a deep belief in the power of rehabilitation to restore dignity, independence, and quality of life. I chose a path in healthcare because I have seen what happens when people do not receive the support they need to heal fully physically, mentally, and emotionally. Injury, chronic pain, and limited mobility don’t just affect the body; they affect confidence, identity, and a person’s ability to participate in everyday life. That reality is what drew me to kinesiology and toward a future in rehabilitative care. While my goal is physical therapy, I have immense respect for occupational therapy and the role it plays in helping individuals regain independence and function in their daily lives. Occupational therapy focuses on restoring purpose through movement, routine, and adaptation principles that strongly align with how I view healthcare. Healing is not just about treating a condition; it’s about helping people return to living fully and meaningfully. Christina Taylese Singh’s commitment to occupational therapy reflects the type of healthcare professional I aspire to be: compassionate, patient-centered, and dedicated to improving lives one person at a time. My interest in healthcare has been reinforced through volunteering, mentorship, and wellness-based service. I am actively involved in supporting other students and community members through leadership and outreach, particularly those navigating academic pressure, financial hardship, and personal challenges. In these spaces, I’ve learned how important it is to listen first, understand context, and meet people where they are. Those same principles guide effective healthcare practice. As a student leader, I often support peers who are overwhelmed or unsure of their path. Many of these conversations touch on mental health, stress, and physical well-being. These experiences have shown me that healthcare providers are often trusted figures during vulnerable moments. That trust comes with responsibility—to educate, to encourage, and to treat people with respect and patience. I plan to pursue a career in rehabilitative healthcare where I can serve underserved communities and emphasize education, prevention, and long-term recovery. Whether helping someone regain mobility after injury or supporting them as they rebuild confidence in their daily abilities, my goal is to provide care that recognizes the whole person. I want to work in spaces where access to quality rehabilitation can change the trajectory of someone’s life. Christina Taylese Singh’s story is a powerful reminder of the dedication it takes to pursue a healthcare career and the impact one individual can have through service. Although her journey was cut short, her commitment to helping others continues through opportunities like this scholarship. I am honored to apply in her memory and to carry forward the values she embodied compassion, perseverance, and service. This scholarship would support my continued education and allow me to stay focused on becoming a healthcare professional who not only treats injury, but helps people reclaim their independence, purpose, and confidence. That is the kind of impact I intend to make in the field of healthcare.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income, non-traditional undergraduate student studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with the goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I am pursuing a career in STEM because I believe science-based education is one of the most powerful tools for healing, equity, and long-term change especially in communities that have historically been underserved and underrepresented. My decision to pursue STEM is rooted in lived experience. I have seen firsthand how limited access to healthcare, education, and preventative resources negatively impacts Black communities. Injuries go untreated, chronic pain becomes normalized, and physical limitations often lead to emotional and mental strain. I chose kinesiology because it sits at the intersection of science and service. It is a field grounded in biology, anatomy, biomechanics, and evidence-based practice yet its impact is deeply human. As a former foster youth and adult learner, returning to college was not a casual decision. I came back with purpose. I understood that earning a STEM degree would not only give me technical expertise, but also credibility and influence in spaces where Black voices are often missing. Representation matters in science and healthcare. When patients see providers who understand their background, their concerns, and their realities, trust is built—and outcomes improve. Through my education, I plan to use my STEM degree to uplift my community by improving access to culturally responsive, science-driven healthcare. My long-term goal is to work as a physical therapist serving underserved populations, where education and prevention are just as important as treatment. Many injuries and chronic conditions can be managed or avoided with proper movement education, strength training, and early intervention. I want to bring that knowledge directly into communities where it is often unavailable or overlooked. Beyond clinical work, I plan to use my STEM background to mentor and encourage other Black students to pursue science-based careers. As a student leader and mentor, I already work with peers who doubt whether STEM is “for them.” I make it a point to show that science is not just about labs and textbooks it’s about problem-solving, critical thinking, and improving lives. By sharing my journey as a non-traditional student in STEM, I hope to make these pathways feel more accessible and achievable. The phrase “lift as we climb” reflects how I approach my education. My success is not meant to be isolated. Every class I complete, every concept I master, and every credential I earn is an opportunity to open doors for others behind me. I want my career to demonstrate that Black men belong in STEM not just as participants, but as leaders, innovators, and advocates for equity. Pursuing STEM allows me to combine science with service and ambition with responsibility. With this degree, I intend to help my community move better, heal stronger, and believe more deeply in what is possible when education and opportunity align.

My name is Darryl Thomas. I am a 34-year-old Black man, a low-income, non-traditional college student currently studying kinesiology at Los Angeles City College with a long-term goal of working in patient-centered healthcare. While my academic pathway has emphasized movement and rehabilitation, my commitment to nursing and holistic health is rooted in the same belief: people heal best when education, prevention, nutrition, and compassionate care work together. Nutrition plays a foundational role in overall health, yet it is often overlooked in everyday patient care. As someone who has navigated financial hardship, housing instability, and the stress that comes with limited access to resources, I understand how difficult it can be to prioritize nutrition when survival comes first. That lived experience is what drives my desire to work in healthcare and specifically in nursing where patient education and trust are central to outcomes. In my nursing career, I plan to improve people’s nutrition and overall health by focusing on education that is practical, culturally responsive, and realistic. Many patients receive nutritional advice that feels overwhelming or disconnected from their daily lives. As a nurse, I would prioritize meeting patients where they are, helping them understand small, achievable changes rather than promoting perfection. Encouraging healthier eating habits starts with listening — understanding a patient’s access to food, cultural preferences, budget, and time constraints before offering guidance. One of the key steps I plan to take is integrating nutrition education into routine care. Whether discussing hydration, balanced meals, or reading nutrition labels, I believe nurses are uniquely positioned to reinforce these habits through consistent, trusted interactions. Nurses often spend more time with patients than any other healthcare professional, which creates opportunities to encourage prevention and long-term wellness, not just treatment. I also plan to emphasize the connection between nutrition, mental health, and physical recovery. From my background in kinesiology, I have seen how proper nutrition supports energy levels, emotional regulation, and healing. In nursing practice, I would use that knowledge to help patients understand how food choices impact blood sugar, inflammation, recovery time, and overall quality of life especially for individuals managing chronic conditions. Community education is another way I intend to make an impact. I am already involved in mentorship and student leadership, and I plan to carry that service mindset into my nursing career by participating in outreach programs, wellness workshops, and community health initiatives. Providing accessible nutrition education in community settings helps reduce long-term healthcare disparities and empowers people to take ownership of their health. This scholarship would help ease the financial pressure that comes with pursuing a healthcare career and allow me to stay focused on developing the skills needed to serve patients effectively. Nurses are not only caregivers they are educators, advocates, and trusted guides. Through patient education, preventative care, and everyday nutrition support, I plan to contribute to healthier individuals and stronger communities. Improving nutrition is not about telling people what they should do it’s about giving them the knowledge, confidence, and support to make choices that fit their lives. As a future nurse, that is the standard I intend to uphold in every patient interaction.

Legacy, to me Darryl Thomas, isn’t about recognition or wealth alone it’s about impact. It’s about what remains long after titles fade and circumstances change. As a low-income, non-traditional undergraduate student, my vision for the future is rooted in building something that creates opportunity, healing, and stability not only for myself, but for the communities that shaped me. I plan to create my legacy through entrepreneurship in health and wellness. My long-term goal is to build a wellness-based business that integrates physical rehabilitation, movement education, and community-centered care. I want to create spaces where people feel supported not just physically, but mentally and emotionally especially those who are often overlooked by traditional healthcare systems. My interest in entrepreneurship comes from understanding that ownership creates freedom, sustainability, and the ability to serve on your own terms. The business I hope to build one day is a holistic wellness and rehabilitation practice rooted in accessibility and trust. As someone pursuing a career in physical therapy, I see entrepreneurship as a way to remove barriers to care. I envision offering services that combine physical therapy, movement coaching, and education in environments that feel welcoming rather than intimidating. Too often, people delay care because of cost, fear, or lack of representation. I want my business to be a bridge meeting people where they are and helping them move forward with dignity. I already shine my light through the work I do now. On campus and in my community, I serve in leadership and mentorship roles that focus on uplifting others. I’m actively involved in volunteer efforts and student organizations that support students navigating academic pressure, financial stress, and personal challenges. I believe service doesn’t always look like grand gestures sometimes it’s consistency, accountability, and showing up when others need support. Movement and wellness are also ways I give back. I use fitness and structured activity as tools for empowerment, stress relief, and confidence-building. I’ve seen how movement can help people reconnect with themselves, regulate emotions, and regain a sense of control during difficult times. Sharing that knowledge is part of how I shine my light by encouraging others to invest in their health and believe in their ability to grow. Entrepreneurship excites me because it allows passion and purpose to align. I’m not interested in building something just to profit I’m interested in building something that lasts. A business that employs others, mentors young people, and reinvests into the community. A business that my son can one day look at and say, this was built with intention. I shine my light by staying disciplined when things are hard, by choosing purpose over shortcuts, and by committing to growth even when the path isn’t easy. My legacy will be one of resilience, service, and ownership proof that with vision, consistency, and heart, it’s possible to turn adversity into impact and leave something meaningful behind.

My name is Darryl Thomas, and I am a non-traditional undergraduate student pursuing a degree in kinesiology with the long-term goal of becoming a physical therapist. While my academic focus is on physical rehabilitation, my commitment to mental health has been shaped by lived experience, leadership, and service. I understand firsthand that mental and physical health are inseparable, and meaningful healing only happens when both are addressed together. I returned to college in my thirties after navigating significant life challenges, including housing instability, financial hardship, and the responsibility of being a father. Those experiences forced me to develop resilience, discipline, and self-awareness, but they also made me deeply aware of how often mental health struggles go unseen or unsupported especially in underserved communities. I’ve seen how stress, trauma, and untreated mental health issues can quietly derail people’s lives long before they ever reach a clinical setting. Today, I’m committed to a career in healthcare because I want to be part of the solution. My goal is to become a physical therapist who approaches patient care holistically, recognizing that recovery is not only about restoring movement, but also about rebuilding confidence, trust, and emotional stability. Pain, injury, and physical limitation often carry mental and emotional weight, and I believe providers have a responsibility to acknowledge that reality rather than treat symptoms in isolation. My commitment to mental health shows up both academically and through service. As a student leader and mentor on campus, I work closely with other students particularly Black men—who are navigating academic pressure, financial stress, and personal challenges. In these spaces, mental health conversations often happen informally but honestly. I’ve learned that sometimes the most impactful support comes from listening, validating someone’s experience, and encouraging them to seek help rather than suffer in silence. Movement and wellness are also tools I use to support mental health. Through fitness-based activities and peer engagement, I’ve seen how physical activity can become an entry point for emotional regulation, stress relief, and self-confidence. Many individuals who are hesitant to talk about mental health openly are more willing to engage through movement, structure, and routine. My education allows me to bridge that gap in a way that feels accessible and culturally responsive. Financial need remains a real challenge in my educational journey. I am intentional about pursuing scholarships and support because I understand that reducing financial stress directly impacts mental well-being and academic success. Support from this scholarship would allow me to remain focused on my studies and community involvement without compromising my long-term stability. Arne Hyson’s legacy reflects the values I strive to live by compassion, service, and belief in the power of education to change lives. My vision is to build a career in healthcare that prioritizes dignity, patience, and whole-person healing. Whether working with patients recovering from injury or mentoring students navigating life transitions, my goal is to create environments where people feel supported, understood, and empowered to move forward. Mental health doesn’t exist on the sidelines of care it is central to it. I intend to spend my career honoring that truth through the way I serve others.

The person I admire most is my grandmother. She didn’t have access to higher education herself, but she believed deeply in learning, communication, and standing on what you know. She taught me early that the way you speak how clearly, honestly, and confidently you communicate can open doors or close them. Long before I ever stepped into a classroom, she showed me the power of words. Growing up, my grandmother was the person everyone came to when they needed advice, perspective, or simply someone to listen. She had a way of speaking that made people feel heard and respected, even during difficult conversations. Watching her navigate family conflict, advocate for others, and speak truth without aggression showed me that communication isn’t about volume it’s about intention. That lesson stayed with me, even during periods of my life when school wasn’t my main focus. As a non-traditional student returning to community college in my thirties, I didn’t take education lightly. I came back with purpose. I understood that if I wanted to advocate for myself, my family, and my community, I needed the ability to articulate my thoughts clearly and confidently. That realization led me to enroll in Public Speaking at Los Angeles City College, where I began strengthening a skill I had relied on informally for years. Participating in speech-related coursework pushed me outside my comfort zone. Public speaking forced me to organize my thoughts, stand in front of others with confidence, and communicate under pressure. These skills became especially important as I stepped into leadership roles on campus. Whether addressing classmates, collaborating with peers, or representing student interests, I learned that preparation and clarity matter just as much as passion. My motivation for engaging in speech and communication is directly tied to my long-term goals. I am pursuing higher education in kinesiology with the intention of becoming a physical therapist, and effective communication is essential in healthcare. Patients need to understand their treatment plans, feel comfortable asking questions, and trust the person guiding their recovery. None of that happens without strong communication skills. Speech and debate-style learning teaches you how to listen actively, respond thoughtfully, and advocate with respect all of which translate directly into my future profession. Beyond academics, communication is how I give back. I mentor and support fellow students, particularly Black men navigating community college, by encouraging them to speak up, ask questions, and believe their voices matter. Many students struggle not because they lack ability, but because they lack confidence in expressing themselves. I’ve seen firsthand how learning to communicate can change how someone carries themselves. The person I admire taught me that education isn’t just about degrees it’s about being equipped to speak for yourself and others. My grandmother inspired me to pursue higher education so I could sharpen my voice, expand my understanding, and advocate more effectively in every space I enter. Through speech and communication, I’ve learned that my voice has value, and I intend to use it to create opportunity, understanding, and impact wherever I go.

Service has always been a part of my life, long before I had language for it. As a Black man who grew up navigating instability and later became a father, I learned early that sometimes the most powerful thing you can offer someone is your presence. Listening, showing up, and staying consistent can be the difference between someone giving up or pushing forward. Currently, I serve my community through mentorship, wellness advocacy, and leadership on campus. I am the President of the A²MEND chapter at Los Angeles City College, an organization dedicated to supporting Black men through higher education. In this role, I help create spaces where students can be honest about what they’re carrying — academic pressure, financial stress, family responsibilities, and mental health challenges. Many of the men I work with don’t have access to consistent guidance or encouragement, so simply having someone check in, hold them accountable, and remind them they belong matters more than people realize. Beyond formal leadership, my service often shows up informally. I’m the person classmates come to when they’re overwhelmed, unsure about school, or struggling to balance life and academics. I don’t approach these moments as advice-giving sessions I approach them as human conversations. I’ve learned that people don’t always need answers; they need someone willing to listen without judgment. That belief is rooted in my own experience as a former foster youth, where having even one supportive adult could shift the trajectory of your life. I also use movement and wellness as tools for service. As a kinesiology student, I understand how physical health, mental health, and emotional regulation are connected. I’ve helped organize and participate in wellness-based activities that encourage people to reconnect with their bodies as a form of healing. For many people, especially Black men, movement becomes a safe entry point into conversations about stress, trauma, and self-care conversations that don’t always happen otherwise. My educational goals are directly tied to this service mindset. I am pursuing a path toward becoming a physical therapist because I believe healing should be accessible, culturally responsive, and rooted in trust. While physical therapy is often viewed as clinical, I see it as deeply human. Patients don’t just need treatment plans they need providers who listen, who understand their fears, and who respect their lived experiences. My long-term goal is to serve underserved communities where people are often overlooked, rushed, or misunderstood within healthcare systems. As a father, my commitment to service is also generational. I want my son to grow up seeing that giving back isn’t optional it’s a responsibility. The work I’m doing now, both academically and in my community, is about building something that lasts beyond me. I don’t measure impact only by titles or outcomes, but by whether people feel supported, encouraged, and seen. Michael Pride Jr.’s legacy reflects the kind of service I believe in being there for people during hard moments, even when you’re carrying your own struggles. That example mirrors how I move through the world. I intend to continue giving back not just through my career, but through the relationships I build, the spaces I help create, and the people I uplift along the way.

my name is Darryl Thomas, college is expensive, and for students like me, the cost isn’t abstract it’s something I navigate every semester. As a Black, non-traditional student who returned to school in my thirties, I don’t have the luxury of trial and error when it comes to debt. Every decision I make is intentional because I understand how student loans can follow you for decades and limit your ability to build stability. I’m currently a kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College, working part-time while pursuing a long-term goal of becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. I’m also a former foster youth and a father, which means financial responsibility isn’t optional it’s constant. I returned to higher education after time away from school, knowing that I needed a plan that didn’t rely on excessive debt to survive. The primary way I’m addressing my current and future student debt is by aggressively pursuing grants, scholarships, and institutional support instead of loans. I’ve made it a priority to educate myself on every funding resource available to me, including federal and state grants, campus-based aid, and private scholarships. I treat scholarship applications like part of my academic workload, because I know that every dollar I earn now is a dollar I don’t owe later. I’m also intentional about maintaining strong academic performance so I remain competitive for merit-based funding. I’ve earned Dean’s Honors and continue to prioritize consistency and discipline in my coursework. As an adult learner, I don’t take being in college for granted. I understand the cost not just financially, but in time, energy, and sacrifice and I treat my education accordingly. In addition, I’ve structured my work schedule carefully so that I can contribute to my living expenses without allowing employment to derail my academic progress. I’m mindful of burnout and realistic about my limits, because taking on excessive work hours at the expense of grades would cost me more in the long run. My goal is sustainability, not survival mode. Looking ahead, my plan to minimize future debt continues beyond community college. As I prepare to transfer to a four-year university and eventually pursue a DPT program, I’m already researching funding pathways, need-based aid, and scholarships designed for BIPOC students, adult learners, and students entering healthcare fields. I’m building relationships with counselors and mentors who can guide me toward funding opportunities early, rather than reacting to costs after they appear. This scholarship would directly support my strategy to reduce student debt and stay focused on completing my degree without financial setbacks. It would allow me to allocate less income toward tuition-related expenses and more toward academic stability, transportation, and basic needs all of which play a role in persistence and completion. I’m not just trying to earn a degree. I’m building a future that includes financial responsibility, service to underserved communities, and long-term stability for myself and my family. Reducing student debt isn’t just about money — it’s about freedom, opportunity, and the ability to move forward without being weighed down by the cost of simply trying to better your life.

The most meaningful relationship in my life is the one I have with my son. Being his father didn’t just change how I see myself it changed how I move through the world, how I build relationships, and how seriously I take my responsibility to others. I didn’t grow up with consistency. As a former foster youth, instability was normal, and trust was something you learned carefully. People came and went, systems changed, and nothing felt permanent. Because of that, I learned early that connection isn’t automatic it’s intentional. When someone showed up consistently, it mattered. When they didn’t, you learned to keep going anyway. That background shaped how I see relationships, but fatherhood gave it direction. Being a father means showing up even when it’s uncomfortable. It means being present when you’re tired, being patient when you’re frustrated, and holding yourself to a higher standard because someone is watching everything you do. My son doesn’t just hear what I say he sees how I live. That reality pushed me to get serious about my education, my discipline, and my long-term vision. I want him to see what resilience looks like in real time. That mindset carries into how I connect with others. As a kinesiology student at Los Angeles City College, I don’t move through school alone. I believe relationships are part of success, not something separate from it. I build real connections with classmates, professors, and counselors because I understand that progress happens faster when people support each other. Especially in community college, where many students are balancing work, financial stress, and personal challenges, connection can be the difference between persistence and burnout. That belief is why I stepped into leadership as President of the A²MEND chapter at LACC. A²MEND focuses on supporting Black men in higher education through mentorship, accountability, and brotherhood. When I took on the role, my goal wasn’t just to hold a title it was to help build structure and create a space where men felt seen, supported, and pushed to grow. Many of the brothers I work with are navigating the same obstacles I’ve faced: doubt, pressure, and the feeling that you have to figure everything out alone. I lead the way I wish someone had led for me with honesty, consistency, and respect. My approach to connection is also tied directly to my career goals. I’m pursuing physical therapy because I understand that healing is relational. You can have all the technical knowledge in the world, but if a patient doesn’t trust you, progress stalls. People heal better when they feel heard and respected. My background taught me how to listen, how to read people, and how to meet them where they are skills that matter just as much in healthcare as anatomy and biomechanics. At the end of the day, my relationship with my son keeps everything in perspective. It reminds me that the way I treat people, the standards I live by, and the connections I build will outlast any title or degree. Human connection isn’t abstract to me it’s personal. It’s survival. It’s responsibility. I’m building a life and career rooted in connection because I know what happens when people feel supported and what happens when they don’t. My goal is to be someone who shows up, creates opportunity, and helps others move forward, just like I’m doing for the little boy who’s watching me every day.