Being a first generation college student influences my career goals more than anything else. I grew up watching my parents work long hours and handle challenges without the benefit of higher education. They did their best with what they had, but it was clear that opportunity is not evenly distributed. You have to create it, and sometimes you have to fight for it. That understanding is what pushes me toward a career where I can make a real difference for families like mine. College has always felt like something bigger than a personal achievement. My parents came to this country hoping their kids would have choices they never did, and becoming the first in my family to earn a degree is my way of continuing their work. It also shapes what I want my future to look like. I want a career where I can support people who feel lost, underprepared, or overlooked, because I know exactly what that feels like. That is why I want to become a nurse. I grew up helping my parents navigate appointments for my sister, who has special needs. I translated, asked questions, and explained things when they felt overwhelmed. Those moments taught me how powerful it can be to have someone on your side in a confusing system. Nurses meet people at their most vulnerable, and the right words or calm guidance can change a whole experience. I want to be that person for others. Being first generation also shaped my drive to serve my community. I know what it feels like to walk into a room and not know what to expect. I know the stress of worrying about money, forms, deadlines, and family responsibilities all at once. These experiences make me want to support others who carry the same weight. My goal is to work in community based healthcare, helping families who face the same barriers mine did. Being first generation gives me a sense of purpose. It’s the reason I work hard and the reason I want a career centered on care, clarity, and support.

The first time I realized what real responsibility felt like was the night my sister fell and split the skin above her eye. She is autistic and nonverbal, so injuries hit differently in our house. There is panic, confusion, and a whole lot of fear. I remember the blood on her face and the sound of my mom crying, but what stays with me most is the moment I stepped forward without thinking. I grabbed the towel, talked to the nurses, kept track of her scans, and tried to keep everyone calm. That night showed me that I could be steady when things got scary. It was also the moment I first saw nursing as more than a career. It felt like a calling. What inspires me most about nursing is the way it blends compassion with action. Nurses do not just comfort people, they guide them through the hardest moments of their lives. When I watched the nurses care for my sister, I noticed how they spoke to her even though she couldn’t respond, how they explained every step to my parents, and how their calm made the room feel safer. I walked into that ER terrified, but I walked out knowing I wanted to give other families that same sense of safety. Since then, I’ve been doing everything I can to prepare myself for a life of service. I volunteer at a community clinic where I take vitals, help organize patient files, and talk with people who are waiting to be seen. Most of them come from underserved backgrounds, and many are dealing with issues they have ignored because they don’t have insurance or transportation. Sometimes all I can offer is a calm conversation or a glass of water, but I’ve learned that even those small moments matter. Kindness lowers shoulders. Patience slows breathing. Listening makes people feel human again. Outside the clinic, I try to make myself useful wherever I can. I help run supply drives for families in need. I spend weekends at local events with organizations that support people with disabilities. I look after younger students at my school who feel lost or overwhelmed because I know what that feels like. Growing up as a first-generation student, there were so many times I wished someone would guide me. Now I try to be that person for others. In the future, I want to give back in a bigger way. My long-term goal is to become a nurse who specializes in caring for people with chronic conditions, especially disabilities or communication challenges like my sister’s. I want to be the person who sees the whole patient, not just the chart. I want families to know they can breathe again because someone capable is standing beside them. I think about Breanna Coleman and everything she had ahead of her. She was young, driven, and ready to use her life to help people. That spirit is what drives me too. I want to take the opportunities she didn’t get to finish and turn them into something meaningful. I want to build a career that reflects the same compassion and determination she had. Nursing is more than a degree to me. It is a promise to show up when people feel scared, vulnerable, or alone. It is the chance to steady someone’s world when it feels like it’s falling apart. That is how I plan to serve my community, and that is the kind of nurse I hope to become.

The first time I watched my sister struggle to breathe after a severe allergic reaction, I understood what helplessness felt like. Her chest rose fast and shallow, and every breath sounded like a battle. My parents froze, but I grabbed her inhaler and timed her puffs while we waited for the ambulance. I remember counting her breaths, terrified they might stop before help arrived. That moment made something clear to me: nothing matters more than the ability to give someone back their breath, their comfort, and their sense of safety. That experience, and later watching her live with chronic respiratory issues, pushed me toward healthcare. I’ve always been drawn to helping others, but seeing how fragile something as simple as breathing could be gave that desire purpose. I began volunteering at a community clinic, where I took vital signs, organized supplies, and listened to patients describe their symptoms. Many of them came from families who couldn’t afford regular checkups, and some had undiagnosed conditions that had quietly grown worse over time. One man coughed so hard he could barely finish a sentence, but he still smiled when I offered him water. That small exchange reminded me that healthcare is about more than treatment. It’s about presence, patience, and dignity. Through those experiences, I realized I want to work in a field where I can make life less frightening for people living with chronic or rare diseases. Lung disease especially captures my attention because it affects every part of life—sleep, exercise, conversation, and even confidence. I want to be part of the team that helps patients breathe easier, not just physically but emotionally. That means learning about the science behind respiratory therapy and the human stories that come with it. My plan is to pursue a nursing degree with a focus on pulmonary and rare disease care. Nurses spend the most time at the bedside, translating complex information into calm, practical care. I’ve seen how a nurse’s steady tone can lower a patient’s anxiety faster than medication sometimes can. I want to bring that same steadiness to people who live in constant fear of their next flare-up, infection, or unpredictable symptom. Rare conditions also deserve more attention than they often get. Families affected by them face isolation and confusion because so few people understand what they’re going through. I hope to bridge that gap by combining clinical work with advocacy—helping patients access resources, connect with specialists, and feel less alone. Every person deserves to be treated as more than their diagnosis. One of my long-term goals is to work in a pulmonary rehabilitation program or research clinic where I can contribute to both treatment and education. Teaching patients how to manage their conditions at home, recognize warning signs, and use medical devices properly can change outcomes dramatically. Preventing one hospitalization can mean weeks of freedom and relief for both patients and families. Healthcare, for me, is not just a career path—it’s a promise to step into moments when others feel powerless and help them find strength again. Whether I’m easing someone’s breathing during an asthma attack or helping a family understand a rare diagnosis, I want to be the calm in the chaos, the person who reminds them that healing is possible, even when cure isn’t. That belief was born the night my sister struggled for air. It has guided every choice since, and it will continue to guide me as I dedicate my career to helping others breathe, live, and hope more freely.

The first time I picked up a tennis racket, I had no idea how much the sport would end up shaping who I am. I was thirteen, standing nervously on a cracked public court, barely able to return a serve. From that moment on, tennis became more than just a game. It became a teacher. It has taught me discipline, patience, resilience, and how to handle both victory and defeat with the same mindset: keep improving. One of the biggest lessons tennis has taught me is perseverance. Tennis can be brutally honest. You cannot rely on a teammate to carry you, and there is no clock to run down. Every point is earned, and every mistake is yours to learn from. Early on, I used to get frustrated when I missed easy shots or lost close matches. But my coach always said, “You don’t lose, you learn.” That mindset changed everything. Instead of focusing on what went wrong, I started analyzing my mistakes, adjusting my footwork, and working harder at practice. Over time, I realized that growth does not happen in comfort. It happens in the moments when you want to give up but don’t. Tennis has also taught me leadership and teamwork, even though it is an individual sport. I play on my high school team, and while we compete one-on-one, our success depends on supporting each other. I have learned how to motivate teammates, keep morale high during tough matches, and celebrate others’ wins as much as my own. As a team captain, I have tried to create an environment where younger players feel encouraged, not intimidated, because I remember how overwhelming those first matches can be. Time management is another skill tennis has forced me to master. Balancing practices, tournaments, schoolwork, and other responsibilities is not easy. I have learned to plan my week around priorities, stay organized, and make the most of every hour. Those habits have carried over into my academics, where I have maintained strong grades while staying active in extracurriculars and community service. Beyond the technical and mental lessons, tennis has given me confidence. When I am on the court, I am reminded that I am capable of pushing past limits, whether that means fighting through a long rally or coming back from a losing set. That confidence translates into how I approach life off the court too. It has taught me that no goal is out of reach if I am willing to put in the work, stay focused, and stay humble. Looking ahead, tennis has influenced how I see my future. I plan to pursue a career in the healthcare field, where focus, patience, and discipline are just as essential as they are in tennis. I also hope to stay connected to the sport by coaching younger players or starting a local program that gives more kids access to tennis, especially in communities where it is not easily available. The same way tennis gave me a sense of purpose and belonging, I want to pass that on to others. Tennis has shaped my character, taught me how to handle challenges, and helped me grow into a more determined and thoughtful person. It is not just something I play. It is something that has built the foundation for who I want to become.

When I first started thinking about how I could help my community, I didn’t really know where to start. Being a student ambassador at my school gave me a clear place to begin. I showed new students around, answered their questions, and helped them feel welcome. It might seem small, but I saw how much it mattered when a student who was nervous on their first day left smiling. That feeling made me realize I could actually make a difference in people’s lives. It taught me that leadership isn’t just about making decisions—it’s about noticing the little ways you can support others. Beyond school, I’ve tried to help kids and teens stay safe both in person and online. Bullying happens everywhere, from hallways to social media, and it’s easy to feel powerless as a bystander. I’ve made it a point to step in whenever I can, whether it’s helping a younger student deal with teasing or showing them how to report harassment online. I’ve also organized small activities for younger students, like safe group discussions or games, to encourage inclusion and teach them how to treat each other respectfully. It’s not a perfect system, but every time someone feels safer or supported because of what I did, it motivates me to keep helping. Financially, going to college is a big challenge for my family. Without scholarships, it would be hard to afford the opportunities I need to pursue my goals. My parents work hard, but the costs of tuition, books, and living expenses add up fast. Receiving this scholarship would not only make college possible, it would give me the chance to focus on my studies and continue giving back to my community instead of worrying about how to cover costs. Helping others has taught me a lot about responsibility, empathy, and staying calm when things get stressful. I’ve learned how to listen carefully, respond thoughtfully, and think about the long-term impact of my actions. I don’t need to have everything figured out yet, but I know that by supporting others, I’m building skills and values that will last a lifetime. This experience has shown me that even small actions—standing up for someone, helping a student feel welcome, or showing someone how to stay safe online—can have a big impact. If I get this scholarship, I’ll use it not just to continue my education, but to keep making my community a safer, kinder place for kids and teens.

The first time I watched The Pursuit of Happyness, I was in middle school. I thought it would just be another drama, but instead I found myself glued to the screen, watching Chris Gardner struggle through homelessness, rejection, and failure while still holding on to his dream and protecting his son. By the time the credits rolled, I wasn’t just moved—I was changed. That movie taught me more than any lecture or textbook about resilience. What struck me most wasn’t just Chris Gardner’s success at the end, but everything he endured on the way there. Sleeping in subway bathrooms, standing in long lines at shelters, juggling unpaid internships and parenthood—he had every reason to quit, but he didn’t. Watching his story made me realize that setbacks are not the end of the road; they’re part of the process. This lesson has stayed with me in my own life. I haven’t faced the same struggles Chris Gardner did, but I know what it feels like to push through challenges. My family has worked tirelessly to give me opportunities, even when money was tight and sacrifices had to be made. There were times when balancing school, work, and family responsibilities felt overwhelming. But remembering The Pursuit of Happyness reminded me that even when life feels impossible, perseverance can open doors you never imagined. That mindset shaped how I approached high school. When classes got tough, I studied harder. When I doubted myself, I reminded myself that persistence matters more than perfection. I took on challenges—like advanced courses and leadership roles—that scared me at first, but ultimately helped me grow. And just like Gardner’s story showed, the real victories weren’t just the end results, but the discipline and determination I built along the way. Looking ahead, this lesson connects directly to my goals in higher education and beyond. I plan to pursue a career in nursing, a field where resilience and perseverance aren’t optional—they’re essential. Nurses face long hours, emotional challenges, and high-pressure situations every day. But they also have the privilege of making a difference when people need it most. The Pursuit of Happyness taught me that when you believe in your purpose and keep moving forward, even the hardest days have meaning. That’s the same approach I want to bring to my career: staying strong, compassionate, and committed no matter the circumstances. This scholarship would make a direct impact by giving me the stability Chris Gardner was fighting for in the film—the chance to focus on building my future without constant financial stress. It would allow me to fully dedicate myself to my studies and clinical experiences, so I can take the values I’ve learned from both my own life and Gardner’s story into the healthcare field. The Pursuit of Happyness is more than a movie to me. It’s a reminder that perseverance can turn struggle into opportunity, that faith in yourself can carry you through, and that success means more when it’s earned through resilience. That’s the message I carry with me every day, and it’s the mindset that will guide me as I work toward my future.

When I was in ninth grade, my grandfather was hospitalized for several weeks. I visited him almost every day after school, and I still remember how the nurses treated him—not just with medical care, but with patience, dignity, and kindness. Watching them sparked something in me. I realized that healthcare wasn’t only about science and treatment, but about connecting with people during their most vulnerable moments. That experience shaped my goal: to become a nurse who makes a real difference in people’s lives. Through my education, I want to build the knowledge and skills needed to provide the best care possible. Nursing is a demanding field, but I see that challenge as motivation. I want to master the science, from anatomy to pharmacology, while also developing the practical skills to act quickly and calmly in urgent situations. My short-term goal is to earn my Bachelor of Science in Nursing and become a registered nurse, specializing in either emergency care or pediatrics. Both fields require quick thinking, compassion, and resilience, qualities I’ve been working to strengthen in myself throughout high school. Education for me is not just about earning a degree—it’s about growth. I see college as an opportunity to push myself academically, but also to continue giving back to my community. I hope to join student organizations focused on healthcare outreach and volunteer at local clinics to gain real-world experience. By surrounding myself with mentors, professors, and peers who share the same passion, I know I’ll come out stronger, more prepared, and more inspired to serve. Looking further ahead, I envision a future where I use my career not only to provide direct care but also to advocate for others. I’ve seen how families like mine sometimes struggle to navigate the healthcare system, whether due to cost, language barriers, or limited access. In the long run, I want to be a voice for patients who often go unheard. That could mean mentoring future nursing students, working in underserved communities, or even pursuing advanced education to take on leadership roles in healthcare. Ultimately, my vision is to live a life of service, where my career and my values align. Nursing offers that balance. Every day will bring challenges, but also the chance to help someone heal, reassure a worried family, or give comfort when it’s needed most. That’s the kind of future I want for myself—not one measured only by success or salary, but by the lives I’ve touched. This scholarship would be a stepping stone toward that future. It would allow me to focus fully on my studies, seek out clinical opportunities, and gain the experiences I need to reach my goals without being held back by financial stress. Most importantly, it would give me the chance to carry forward the same kind of care and compassion I witnessed at my grandfather’s bedside years ago.

The first time I understood the true value of education was not in a classroom but at my family’s kitchen table. I was ten, helping my younger sibling with math homework while my parents worked late shifts. My parents always told me education was the key to a better future, but that night I realized it wasn’t just about me—it was about lifting others up too. I come from a hardworking family that has always pushed through challenges. My parents immigrated here to give me opportunities they never had. They’ve sacrificed their time, their comfort, and sometimes even their health so I could focus on school. Watching their determination gave me the same drive. Even when things weren’t easy financially, I held on to my studies as a way to honor their sacrifices and create a brighter path forward. That determination shows in my academic and personal choices. I’ve challenged myself with honors and AP classes, volunteered in community programs, and worked part-time jobs to contribute where I can. I’ve also been deeply involved in helping my peers, whether tutoring classmates in science or supporting younger students who struggle with English. Each experience has reinforced that success isn’t just about individual achievement—it’s about using what you’ve learned to support and inspire others. Still, the road to higher education is not simple for me. College is expensive, and my family doesn’t have the financial resources to cover tuition, books, and living expenses. I’ve saved from my part-time jobs, but it’s not nearly enough. I know that without support, I will have to work long hours on top of studying, which could hold me back from fully dedicating myself to my goals. That’s why this scholarship matters. Receiving it would mean more than money—it would mean time. Time to focus on my studies. Time to pursue internships and volunteer opportunities that align with my career goals. Time to push myself academically without constantly worrying about how the bills will be paid. It would ease the burden on my family and allow me to take the next step with confidence. My ultimate goal is to enter the healthcare field as a nurse. I want to combine my love for science with my desire to help people directly. I’ve seen how access to quality care can change someone’s life, and I want to be part of that change for others. With this scholarship, I can pursue my nursing degree, continue serving my community, and one day give back to students who are in the position I’m in now. I started this essay with a memory at the kitchen table because it reflects who I am at my core: someone who works hard, values education, and lifts others up along the way. This scholarship would not only help me reach my own dreams but also empower me to live out those values on a larger scale.

The moment that changed me didn’t happen during a big test or a major project. It happened when Mrs. Smith, my sophomore English teacher, handed me back a personal essay. She looked me in the eye and said, “You have a voice worth listening to. Don’t hide it.” Those few words altered how I saw myself and how I approached my life. Before Mrs. Smith’s class, I was the kind of student who blended into the back of the room. I did my work, earned decent grades, but rarely spoke up. I doubted my ideas and kept my thoughts to myself. When she assigned a narrative essay, I decided to write about caring for my grandmother, who struggled with diabetes. It felt risky to share something so personal, but I turned it in quietly, expecting nothing more than a grade. Instead, Mrs. Smith treated my writing like it mattered. She didn’t just correct grammar or circle mistakes—she encouraged me to see my own perspective as valuable. That small gesture planted a seed of confidence. From then on, she refused to let me sit in silence. In discussions she would pause and ask, “What do you think, Deep?” At first it terrified me, but over time I began to answer. Each time I spoke up, the fear shrank a little. She pushed me further than I thought possible. Mrs. Smith urged me to submit my essay to a regional contest, something I never would have attempted on my own. When I placed, I realized it wasn’t just luck—it was the result of taking a chance and trusting my abilities. That moment was proof that stepping out of my comfort zone could lead to growth. What made Mrs. Smith stand out wasn’t only her encouragement but also her honesty about her own struggles. She shared stories of times she failed and what she learned from them, reminding us that mistakes are stepping stones, not dead ends. Watching her embrace vulnerability gave me permission to do the same. Her influence reached beyond English class. Because of her, I began joining clubs, volunteering, and even running for student council. Each new challenge was intimidating, but I carried her words with me: “You have a voice worth listening to.” They reminded me that fear didn’t mean I wasn’t capable—it just meant I had to push through. Mrs. Smith didn’t just teach me how to write; she taught me how to believe in myself. She made me realize that the most important lessons in school aren’t always in the textbook. They’re in the way a teacher can recognize something in you before you recognize it yourself. As I look ahead to nursing, her influence continues to shape me. Nurses, like teachers, need to see potential in others—whether that’s encouraging a patient during recovery or calming someone who feels overwhelmed. Mrs. Smith showed me the power of words and presence, and I hope to carry that same impact into my future career. Without her, I might still be sitting quietly in the back of the classroom, doubting my voice. Because of her, I now believe I have something to contribute—not just in school, but in life. And that belief is something I will carry with me forever.

1. Personal Inspiration for Pursuing Nursing My interest in nursing started with my own family. Growing up, I often watched my mom care for my grandmother, who struggled with diabetes and heart issues. She wasn’t a medical professional, but the way she patiently explained things, encouraged her through tough days, and made sure she never felt alone left a big impression on me. It showed me that being present and compassionate can make just as much of a difference as medicine itself. That experience opened my eyes to the human side of healthcare. Later, when I began volunteering at a local hospital, I saw nurses carrying that same balance of skill and compassion. They were the ones who calmed anxious patients, advocated for them when doctors were rushed, and celebrated small victories with families. I realized that nursing isn’t just about technical knowledge—it’s about being a steady presence during some of the most vulnerable moments of a person’s life. What inspires me most is the idea that nursing allows me to combine science with service. I’ve always been drawn to biology and problem-solving, but I want to apply those interests in a way that directly helps people. Nursing provides that opportunity. I’ll get to use critical thinking and medical skills, but also my natural empathy and patience. The decision to pursue nursing isn’t just about a career—it’s about who I want to be. I want to be the person who patients and families can rely on, not just for medical care, but for comfort, clarity, and understanding. That combination of professional responsibility and human connection is what motivates me to devote my future to nursing. 2. Meaning of "Human Touch" in Patient Care To me, “human touch” means the genuine connection between a caregiver and a patient—the kind that goes beyond clinical treatment. It’s not always literal, though a comforting hand on the shoulder can be powerful. It’s about recognizing the person behind the illness and treating them with dignity, compassion, and empathy. In healthcare, it’s easy for patients to feel like they’re just another case file or diagnosis. But when a nurse takes a moment to listen, makes eye contact, or uses a calm voice, it reminds the patient that they matter as a person. That kind of human touch can ease fear, build trust, and even improve recovery. I think about the times I’ve been in hospitals myself, whether for minor injuries or visiting family. The medical procedures were important, but what stayed with me were the nurses who smiled, explained what was happening in plain language, or simply asked if I needed anything. Those small actions created a sense of safety. They made me feel cared for, not just treated. In patient care, human touch is just as important as medicine. Studies show that patients who feel supported and respected often heal faster and follow medical advice more closely. But even beyond science, it’s about humanity. Illness can be isolating. A nurse’s ability to connect emotionally helps patients feel less alone during a vulnerable time. As a future nurse, I want to make “human touch” a cornerstone of my practice. Whether it’s listening without rushing, offering words of encouragement, or simply showing warmth in my tone, I believe those moments can change the entire patient experience. The human touch reminds people that they are valued and not forgotten, and sometimes that reminder is as healing as the treatment itself.

Growing up, I’ve learned that challenges can either hold you back or push you to grow stronger. For me, financial hardship and family circumstances have often made simple things—like paying for school supplies, joining activities, or even planning for college—feel uncertain. But instead of letting these barriers define me, I have worked harder, stayed focused, and committed myself to creating a better future. Being from a disadvantaged background has meant taking responsibility early on. I help at home, balance school with family responsibilities, and still push myself to excel academically. There have been times when it felt overwhelming, but I’ve realized that determination and consistency matter more than anything else. I have stayed committed to my studies, sought out opportunities to learn, and reminded myself that my circumstances do not have to limit what I can achieve. What I’ve found is that adversity has given me something valuable: resilience. When school gets tough, I don’t quit. When resources are limited, I find another way to practice, study, or prepare. These experiences have taught me to appreciate every opportunity, no matter how small, and to keep moving forward even when it’s difficult. Scholarships and grants make a difference because they don’t just reduce financial pressure—they recognize the effort and determination it takes for students like me to succeed despite setbacks. With support, I could fully focus on my education instead of worrying about how to afford it. It would give me the chance to pursue my goals with the same energy I’ve already put into overcoming challenges. My dream is to continue my education and build a career where I can give back, especially to people who face the same obstacles I’ve had. I want to demonstrate that your background doesn’t have to dictate your future, and that with hard work and support, success is attainable. This grant would not only help me continue on that path, it would also be a reminder that others believe in my potential. I may not have had every advantage, but I’ve learned that what matters most is persistence, commitment, and the willingness to rise above difficulties. I’m determined to make the most of every opportunity, and with the help of this grant, I’ll be able to take the next steps toward achieving my goals.