Some people leave behind buildings, awards, or titles. Others leave behind a powerful legacy that continues through the lives they touched. Although I am not from Alabama but from its neighboring state of Texas, the story of Sandy Jenkins reminds me that the heart of an educator knows no state lines. The love of a teacher reaches far beyond the walls of a classroom, inspiring future generations of educators like me to continue the work they so faithfully began. My passion for early childhood education is rooted in love. Love for children, love for learning, and love for the incredible opportunity to shape lives during the years that matter most. Growing up as the daughter of immigrant parents, I experienced education through a different lens. I became the translator in my family, helping my parents understand school forms, meetings, and conversations. I watched teachers become more than educators. They became trusted guides who gave my family confidence when we often felt uncertain. Their kindness taught me that the greatest lessons are not found in textbooks, but in making a child and their family feel seen, valued, and understood. That realization planted a dream in my heart that has only grown stronger with time. When I began my internship at Martinez Early Learning Center, I knew I enjoyed working with children. What I did not expect was how deeply I would fall in love with the beauty of early childhood education. Every day, I witnessed children discovering the world for the very first time. A child would proudly write their name. Another would sound out a word they had struggled with for weeks. Someone would finally find the courage to raise their hand after days of quiet observation. These moments may seem small to others, but to me, they were life changing because I realized that behind every tiny victory is a child beginning to believe, "I can do this." Children may not remember every worksheet they complete, but they will always remember how their teacher made them feel. They will remember the teacher who celebrated their victories, comforted them through their fears, and believed in them before they believed in themselves. That is the kind of teacher I aspire to become. My experiences serving through the children ministry in my church have only strengthened this calling. Whether I am helping children learn through music, movement, or encouragement, I am reminded that every interaction is an opportunity to plant seeds of confidence, kindness, and curiosity. Those seeds may not bloom immediately, but they have the power to flourish for years to come. As a future bilingual educator, I hope to create a classroom where every child feels safe, capable, and celebrated. I want children from families like mine to know that their language is a gift, their culture is something to be proud of, and their dreams are worth pursuing. I want every student who walks through my classroom door to leave believing they are loved, valued, and capable of accomplishing incredible things. Sandy Jenkins dedicated her life to giving children the best possible beginning, a mission I hope to continue. While I may call Texas home, my passion for early childhood education reaches far beyond state lines. I aspire to honor educators like Sandy by nurturing young minds, encouraging young hearts, and reminding every child of their limitless potential. If I can help even one child fall in love with learning or believe in themselves for the first time, I will know I have fulfilled the purpose God placed on my heart.

My drive to become a teacher comes from the people who believed in me, the experiences that shaped me, and the indescribable joy I feel whenever I have the opportunity to help children learn and grow. Growing up as the daughter of immigrant parents, I often helped translate serious conversations, important school documents, and significant information for my family. From a young age, I saw how overwhelming school could feel when there was a language barrier. I also saw the difference compassionate teachers made when they took the time to communicate with my parents and ensure they felt included in my education. Those experiences showed me that the impact a teacher has reaches far beyond the classroom. They inspired me to become a bilingual educator who can help students and families feel understood, supported, and confident. As I grew older, one teacher completely changed the way I saw myself. She believed in me before I fully believed in myself. She celebrated my strengths, encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone, and reminded me that I was capable of accomplishing more than I imagined. Because of her, I found the confidence to pursue leadership opportunities, challenge myself academically, and dream bigger for my future. She taught me that the most meaningful lessons are not always found in a textbook. Sometimes they come from a teacher who refuses to let a student give up on themselves. I knew then that I wanted to become that kind of teacher. Even before I stepped into a classroom as an intern, I found myself naturally drawn to children. Whether I was helping care for my younger nieces and nephews or volunteering with the children ministry at my church, I discovered how much happiness I found in encouraging young minds. Nothing compares to seeing the eyes of a child light up when they finally understand something they once struggled with or accomplish something they never thought they could do. Their curiosity, creativity, and excitement remind me every day why I chose this path. Being around children does not feel like work but it feels like where I am meant to be. That feeling only grew stronger during my internships at Martinez Early Learning Center and Mata Intermediate School. Every day in the classroom confirmed that teaching is exactly where I belong. Some of the moments that impacted me the most were not the biggest achievements, but the smallest ones: helping a struggling student finally understand a lesson, celebrating a personal victory, or simply being a trusted adult who listened. Those experiences showed me that teachers have the incredible privilege of shaping not only the education of a student but also their confidence and sense of belonging. My goal is to become a bilingual elementary teacher because I understand what it feels like to grow up balancing two languages and two cultures. I want every child, especially those from immigrant families, to feel welcomed, understood, and confident in who they are. I hope to create a classroom where students feel safe to ask questions, excited to learn, and encouraged to believe in themselves. Although I never had the opportunity to meet Teri Schulze, I admire the legacy she left behind. Like Teri, I hope to inspire curiosity, encourage a love of learning, and make every child who enters my classroom feel valued. If years from now one of my students remembers me as the teacher who believed in them before they believed in themselves, I will know I have left the kind of impact that first inspired me to become a teacher.

Growing up as a BIPOC student, I learned very early that success would not simply be handed to me, but it would have to be earned through resilience, faith, and determination. There were many moments in my childhood when things felt uncertain, when resources felt limited, and when the future felt bigger than what I could see around me. Yet even in those moments, school became my safe place. It was the one environment where I felt that my effort could directly shape my future. There were times when I doubted myself. I questioned whether I was smart enough, capable enough, or strong enough to achieve the goals I quietly carried in my heart. As a young girl navigating academic spaces, I sometimes felt the pressure to work twice as hard to prove that I belonged. But in those moments of insecurity, a few extraordinary teachers changed everything for me. They saw potential in me before I fully saw it in myself. They spoke life into my dreams and reminded me that my background was not something to overcome, but something to be deeply proud of. Their encouragement became a turning point. I realized how powerful the words and presence of a teacher can be. A single conversation, a note of affirmation, or a moment of patience can shift the entire trajectory of a student. That realization stayed with me. It planted a seed in my heart that one day, I wanted to be that person for someone else. The encouragement I received did not stop with me. As my confidence grew, I began stepping into that same role for others. In high school, I found myself tutoring younger students and helping classmates prepare for exams. What started as small acts of support became moments of clarity for me as I discovered how deeply fulfilling it was to break down a difficult concept and watch the faces of others light up with understanding. In those moments, I recognized that my own experiences had shaped me into someone who understands perseverance on a deep level. I have learned how to navigate challenges quietly, push through self-doubt, and remain disciplined even when things felt overwhelming. Those experiences strengthened my empathy. I know what it feels like to struggle silently while trying to appear strong, and because of that, I am committed to creating a classroom where students feel seen, heard, and supported, especially those who may feel overlooked. Pursuing a career in K–12 public education is more than a professional goal for me. It is a mission. I want to serve in communities where students may question their potential the way I once did. I want to remind them that their circumstances do not define their ceiling. I want to show young girls and boys of color that leadership, intelligence, and excellence look like them. Representation matters, and I aspire to stand in front of my classroom as living proof that resilience creates opportunity. Education transformed my confidence, expanded my worldview, and gave me tools to rewrite my narrative. Now, I want to give that same gift to the next generation. My background did not weaken me, but it refined me. My struggles did not stop me, but they strengthened me. And my aspirations are rooted in the belief that one caring, determined teacher can change the course of the life of a child. I intend to be that teacher. The one who sees potential before it is fully realized, who speaks encouragement when doubt grows loud, and who reminds every student that their story is still being written.

“In the middle of every difficulty lies opportunity,” a quote by Albert Einstein, reflects a lesson I came to understand through my own experiences. One of the most significant challenges I have overcome began during my childhood, when my family moved homes, disrupting my sense of stability and routine. Adjusting to a new environment brought uncertainty, and the transition was accompanied by financial pressure that affected my household. At the same time, a close family member was facing personal challenges, which altered the dynamics of my home life. Suddenly, I found myself navigating responsibilities I had never anticipated, from helping manage household tasks to providing emotional support to my family. Through this period of hardship, I learned resilience and adaptability, but also carried an unspoken responsibility to remain strong, dependable, and successful, even while feeling overwhelmed. As I adapted to these changes, I also learned how to conceal my struggles. I believed that asking for help would only add to the stress around me, so I pushed myself to handle everything independently. I set extremely high expectations for myself, measuring success by perfection rather than progress. Completing tasks without error became my standard, whether it was schoolwork, household responsibilities, or supporting those around me. While this mindset fueled my determination and gave me a sense of control, I developed a fixed mindset in which mistakes felt discouraging rather than instructive. Any setback felt like a personal failure instead of an opportunity to learn. Over time, I realized that my drive for perfection was both limiting and exhausting. It was during primary school that I learned some of the most important lessons about growth, perseverance, and asking for help. My teachers created classrooms where curiosity was encouraged, mistakes were seen as opportunities, and every question was valued. In this supportive environment, I began to understand that struggling with a task was not a failure, but a natural and necessary part of learning. I gradually learned to seek feedback, participate more confidently, and challenge myself without fear of making mistakes. These experiences helped me develop a growth mindset rooted in perseverance, self-compassion, and curiosity. Letting go of perfection did not diminish my ambition, but instead, it strengthened my ability to learn, adapt, and grow, laying the foundation for the student and future educator that I aspire to be today. These experiences profoundly shaped my values and strengthened my passion for education. They taught me that many students enter classrooms carrying unseen challenges that affect how they learn, participate, and view themselves. I want to become an educator who recognizes these challenges and creates a classroom environment rooted in empathy, encouragement, and curiosity. I want my students to feel safe asking questions, making mistakes, and exploring their potential without fear of judgment. I hope to model the same patience, support, and belief in the abilities of students that my mentors showed me, helping them see challenges as opportunities rather than obstacles. Carrying an Adventurer spirit means embracing uncertainty with courage and optimism, even when the path forward is unclear. It means approaching each challenge with curiosity, resilience, and a willingness to grow. It also means using what I have learned through my own struggles to empower others. This scholarship would support my pursuit of a degree in Education and allow me to honor the legacy of Deborah Brown Alexander by inspiring students to spread their wings, believe in themselves, and discover the joy of learning, just as she did for generations before me.