Growing up as the child of a veteran has shaped not only my upbringing, but also the way I view resilience, service, and career goals. My dad served in the Army and was deployed to Iraq for over a year, along with other deployments throughout his military career. At the time, my sister and I were young, and we did not fully understand what that meant. As I have gotten older, I have come to better understand both the sacrifices he made and the impact that service had on him and our family. When my dad came back from deployment, he struggled with PTSD and also developed hearing loss from prolonged exposure to loud environments during his service. As a child, I did not have the language to understand what was happening, but I could see that things were difficult. What has stayed with me most, however, is not just the challenges he faced, but the way he chose to respond to them. My dad made the decision to seek help and work through what he was experiencing. Over time, he was able to manage his PTSD and adapt to his hearing loss with the help of hearing aids. Watching that process taught me a lot about strength. It showed me that resilience is not about ignoring struggles, but about facing them and continuing to move forward anyway. Today, my dad is an incredibly present and supportive parent. He shares stories from his time in the military, shows us photos, and talks about his experiences in a way that helps us understand both the seriousness and the meaning behind his service. Those conversations have given me a deeper appreciation for what veterans go through, not just during their service, but after they return home as well. Being the child of a veteran has shaped my career aspirations by giving me a strong respect for service and care. It has also influenced my desire to pursue a career in nursing. I have seen firsthand how important it is to have support during difficult and life-changing experiences, whether that is through physical health challenges or mental health struggles. My dad’s experiences have helped me understand how deeply those challenges can affect a person and their family. It has also taught me the importance of compassion and patience when supporting others. Just as my dad had to learn to adjust and seek help, I want to be someone who can support patients and families through their own challenges with understanding and care. His journey has shown me that healing is not always linear, but having the right support can make a meaningful difference. Overall, my experience as the child of a veteran has shaped my values and strengthened my commitment to a career focused on helping others. It has taught me resilience, empathy, and the importance of showing up for people in both their hardest and most hopeful moments.

Pursuing nursing is a decision that has been shaped by my own experiences as a patient. I have lived with chronic illness for most of my life, including an autoimmune disease and gastroparesis. Because of this, I have required long-term medical care, including a GJ tube and a port. Hospitals, procedures, and managing complex health needs have been a constant part of my life, and they have given me a perspective on healthcare that goes far beyond what can be learned in a classroom. Through all of this, nurses have had the greatest impact on me. They were the ones who were consistently there, not just providing medical care, but also making sure I felt safe, understood, and supported. They paid attention to the details, advocated for me when I needed it, and treated me like a person rather than just a condition. Experiencing that level of care firsthand is what inspired me to pursue nursing. My planned specialty is working with patients who have chronic illnesses, particularly those with gastrointestinal conditions, feeding tubes, or complex long-term care needs. I am especially interested in caring for patients who require GJ tubes, ports, or ostomies, because I understand how overwhelming and life-altering those can be. These are not just medical devices, they change how people live their daily lives. Having gone through that myself, I want to be someone who can not only provide skilled care, but also help patients adjust, feel confident, and maintain their quality of life. I have chosen this patient population because I relate to it on a personal level. I understand the physical challenges, but also the emotional side of living with a chronic condition. There are moments of frustration, exhaustion, and uncertainty that are hard to explain unless you have experienced them. Because of that, I feel a strong sense of purpose in supporting others who are going through similar situations. I want to be the kind of nurse who recognizes those struggles and responds with both competence and compassion. In the future, I am interested in receiving additional training in stoma care and working more closely with patients who require ostomies. This is an area that requires not only technical skill, but also sensitivity and patient education. Helping someone adjust to that kind of change is incredibly important, and I would want to be fully prepared to support them through it. My background has also played a role in shaping who I am and how I approach this path. My dad served in the Army National Guard before becoming a fourth grade teacher and later a high school counselor. My mom has been a kindergarten teacher for 32 years. Growing up in a family centered around service and helping others has influenced my values and reinforced the importance of patience, empathy, and dedication. Watching both of my parents work in roles that support and guide others has had a lasting impact on me. Living with chronic illness has not been easy, but it has given me a clear sense of direction. It has taught me resilience, empathy, and how important it is to have compassionate, skilled people in your corner. Nursing allows me to take everything I have experienced and turn it into something meaningful. I am pursuing nursing because I want to be that person for someone else. I want to provide care that not only treats the medical condition, but also supports the person behind it.

For as long as I can remember, hospitals have been a constant part of my life. Living with a autoimmune disease meant growing up in and out of medical settings, where I saw healthcare from a perspective most people never experience. I was not just observing it. I was depending on it. Over time, that changed the way I saw nurses and the role they play in someone’s life. What stood out to me most was not just the clinical care, but the way nurses treated me as a whole person. They noticed the small things. They could tell when I was overwhelmed without me saying anything, and they knew how to make difficult situations feel a little less heavy. Whether it was explaining something in a way that made sense, advocating for me when I was too exhausted to speak up, or simply sitting with me during a hard moment, those actions made a lasting impact. There were times when I felt like everything in my life was uncertain, but nurses brought a sense of stability. They were calm in situations that felt chaotic, and they never made me feel like just another patient. That consistency and compassion stayed with me. As I got older, I started to realize that the care I received was something I wanted to give to others. My journey toward nursing has been shaped directly by my experiences as a patient. I understand what it feels like to be vulnerable, to be in pain, and to have your life interrupted by something you cannot control. Because of that, I feel a strong sense of purpose in becoming someone who can support others through those same moments. I want to be the kind of nurse who not only provides excellent care, but also makes patients feel seen, heard, and understood. The story of Mary Jane Beck resonates deeply with me. Knowing how much comfort she has found in the nurses caring for her reinforces everything that drew me to this field. It highlights how powerful simple acts of kindness and genuine connection can be. That is the kind of impact I hope to have in my own career. Outside of nursing, one of the things I am most passionate about is art, especially ceramics. I first started getting into art during long hospital stays when I needed something to pass the time and take my mind off everything going on. Some of my nurses would bring me paint, paper, and small creative activities, and it quickly became something I looked forward to. What started as a distraction turned into something much more meaningful. Creating art became a way for me to process what I was going through and express emotions that I did not always have the words for. It gave me a sense of control during times when so much felt uncertain. Art has taught me patience and how to stay present, which are skills that connect directly to nursing. It also gives me balance. Healthcare can be emotionally heavy, and having something that brings me peace and creativity is important. It reminds me of those early moments in the hospital, where even something small like being given paint could completely change the way a day felt. Pursuing nursing is not just a career choice for me. It is something that comes from years of lived experience, reflection, and a genuine desire to help others in a meaningful way. I know the path will be challenging, but I also know how much of a difference a good nurse can make. I have felt that difference myself, and that is what drives me to become one.

Growing up as the child of a military parent shaped a big part of who I am today. I am proud of my dad’s service, but being part of a military family also meant learning how to live with separation, uncertainty, and the quiet strength that comes with loving someone who serves. One of the earliest things I remember about growing up in a military family was the feeling of waiting during deployments. I learned how to count days and hold onto small moments of communication, knowing that my dad was far away and in dangerous situations. Even as a child, I understood that service meant sacrifice, not just for the person in uniform, but for the family waiting at home. Being in a military family also meant learning how to adapt. While I did not move constantly, the military lifestyle still influenced the way I thought about stability and change. When my dad was deployed, my mom, who worked a full-time job, now had to take care of two young daughters alone. Watching her balance work and parenting taught me early that responsibility and strength sometimes mean putting others first even when it is difficult. Since she was raising two little girls on her own, I had to learn how to adapt and become more independent as I grew up. I learned how to manage my own routines, help with small responsibilities at home, and adjust when she was busy working long hours. At the time, it sometimes felt hard, but looking back, I see how those experiences helped shape my resilience and ability to handle challenges. Growing up as a military child also gave me a deeper appreciation for the sacrifices military families make. People often recognize the service member, but I saw how the entire family carries part of that responsibility. I witnessed moments of pride mixed with fear and uncertainty, and I learned that strength does not always look obvious. Sometimes it looks like continuing normal life while carrying worry quietly. These experiences also helped shape my ambition to pursue nursing. Seeing how separation and vulnerability can affect families made me want to help others during difficult moments. I want to be someone who supports patients when they feel scared or overwhelmed, especially children and families who may be going through situations that feel uncertain or emotionally hard. As I work toward my nursing career, I hope to carry the values I learned growing up, such as resilience, compassion, and commitment to helping others. I want to use my education to make a meaningful difference in the lives of patients while honoring the sacrifices military families make every day.

I want to pursue a nursing career because I have experienced firsthand how important nutrition is to overall health and quality of life. After being diagnosed with an autoimmune condition, I struggled with malnutrition and the physical and emotional effects that come with not being able to properly nourish the body. I know what it feels like when the body does not receive enough nutrients; I felt constant fatigue, weakness, and the frustration of trying to eat while feeling sick. That experience motivated me to spend time learning how to manage my symptoms while finding ways to maximize nutrition through food. Because of my personal health journey, nutrition is something I view as more than just diet advice. I understand how complicated eating can be for people who are dealing with chronic illness, medical treatments, or digestive challenges. Many people assume nutrition is only about choosing healthy foods, but for patients with medical conditions, it is also about finding ways to make eating possible, tolerable, and sustainable. My goal as a nurse is to help patients improve their health by making nutrition feel achievable rather than overwhelming. In my nursing career, I want to focus on patient education as a way to improve health outcomes. I believe that one of the most powerful roles nurses have is helping patients understand how their daily choices affect their long-term well-being. I plan to encourage healthier eating habits by explaining nutrition in simple, practical ways that patients can apply to their everyday lives. Instead of focusing on strict or unrealistic dietary changes, I want to help people make small, consistent improvements that fit their medical needs, lifestyle, and personal preferences. I am especially interested in helping children and families develop healthy relationships with food. Early nutrition education can play an important role in preventing future health problems and supporting growth and development. I want to teach children that eating well is not about restriction or pressure, but about giving their bodies the energy they need to play, learn, and grow. As a pediatric nurse, I hope to work with families to find foods that are both nutritious and acceptable to children who may be picky eaters or sensitive to certain textures and tastes. I also want to support patients who are dealing with chronic illness and nutritional challenges. Many people with medical conditions struggle to maintain adequate nutrition because of symptoms, treatment side effects, or reduced appetite. My plan is to help patients find manageable ways to incorporate nutrient-dense foods that provide energy and support healing while respecting their limitations. My nursing career will focus on combining medical knowledge with compassionate patient education. I want to help improve people’s overall health by encouraging sustainable eating habits, supporting nutrition awareness, and recognizing that food is closely connected to both physical and emotional well-being. I am committed to continuing to learn about nutrition so I can help patients make informed choices that improve their quality of life. Through my career as a nurse, my ambition is to turn my personal experience with malnutrition into something meaningful by helping others avoid or overcome similar struggles. I want to contribute to healthier communities by supporting patients in developing nutrition habits that help them live stronger, healthier, and more comfortable lives.

My name is Faith and I am currently pursuing a career in pediatric nursing because I want to spend my life caring for children during some of the most vulnerable and confusing moments they may experience. My ambition comes from my personal story. I spent a large part of my childhood in hospitals due to a genetic condition, and growing up in that environment shaped the way I see healthcare. What stood out to me the most was how the nurses treated me not only as a patient, but as a person. The best nurses did more than focus on my symptoms, but they paid attention to fear, comfort, and the small details that made long hospital stays feel more manageable. Those experiences made me want to become the kind of nurse who helps children feel safe when medical care feels frightening. During my time in healthcare settings, I also saw how valuable child life specialists were in supporting children through procedures and hospital stays. The activities they planned, the way they explained things to kids, and the comfort they provided helped make the medical environment feel less overwhelming. However, child life specialists are not available in many hospitals, which means many children do not always have access to that level of emotional and developmental support. As a pediatric nurse, I want to help bridge that gap by doing my best to make sure my patients feel safe, included, and supported throughout their medical journey, even when specialized resources are not available. I am choosing pediatric nursing because I understand what it is like to be a child who is sick. Children often do not fully understand what is happening to their bodies, and they may feel scared, overwhelmed, or powerless in medical settings. Because of this, I want to be someone who listens, explains things in ways children can understand, and provides comfort when they are afraid. I believe pediatric nurses play an important role in helping children build trust in healthcare instead of feeling intimidated by it. My ambition is to become a pediatric nurse who focuses on both medical care and emotional well-being. While learning the science behind treating illness, I also want to develop strong communication skills that help me connect with children at their level. I hope to be the nurse who helps make a child feel a little less afraid before a procedure, explains what is happening in simple and reassuring words, and supports families who are worried about their child’s health. I am also motivated by the long-term impact pediatric nurses can have on a child’s life. Providing early treatment, monitoring development, and creating positive healthcare experiences can help shape how children view medicine as they grow older. My goal is to be a nurse who helps children feel respected, included, and safe in their care while combining compassion with clinical skill.

My name is Faith and I am currently in my first year of college pursing a nursing degree. I plan to build a career in healthcare that focuses on supporting patients who live with rare and complex medical conditions, because I know firsthand how challenging that experience can be. I have a rare autoimmune disease, and growing up as a patient has shown me what it feels like to be misunderstood, overlooked, or not taken seriously when symptoms do not fit the typical pattern. People with rare conditions often spend years searching for answers, waiting for appropriate treatment, or trying to convince others that their pain is real. Those experiences shaped my goals and made nursing feel like the place where I can make the most impact. My time in hospitals and infusion centers taught me what compassionate, attentive care looks like. Nurses were often the first to notice when something was wrong and the first to make me feel safe during difficult moments. Their ability to communicate, advocate, and genuinely care about patients inspired me more than anything else. I want to be that kind of nurse for patients who are scared, newly diagnosed, or struggling with symptoms that no one seems to understand. I hope to improve the lives of others by being the kind of healthcare provider who listens carefully and recognizes early signs of complications, especially in patients with lung disease or rare disorders. These conditions can escalate quickly, and they require clinicians who pay attention to subtle changes. My background gives me a deeper awareness of how important it is to act early, communicate clearly, and treat every patient as an individual rather than a diagnosis. In my future career, I want to advocate for people whose conditions are not widely recognized, help educate families, and support patients through treatments that can feel overwhelming. I also hope to continue learning and eventually work in a setting where I can contribute to better outcomes for patients with chronic and rare illnesses. My own experience has taught me resilience and empathy, and I want to use both to improve the way patients feel during the hardest moments of their care. Sammy's story reflects the resilience, compassion, and dedication I hope to bring into my own work. His life showed what it means to keep learning, keep helping, and keep showing up for others, even while facing a rare medical condition. If I am chosen for this scholarship, I will carry his legacy forward by treating every patient with the same level of care and humanity that defined his life.

My name is Faith, and I’m currently in my first year of college pursuing a nursing degree. I’ve grown up navigating life with a chronic autoimmune disease. I rely on regular infusions and a port, so hospitals and infusion centers have been part of my routine for years. Living in that environment has shaped both my health journey and my goals for my future career in healthcare. Due to spending so much time around nurses and medical teams, I learned early on about the risks that come with ports and central lines. Sepsis was something I was taught to take seriously from the beginning. I understood the signs to watch for and the importance of acting quickly, because all too often, sepsis is caught too late. I have been lucky enough to avoid infection from my port; however, I know many people who have not been as lucky. One of the good things about having an autoimmune disease is the community that I havef found. I’ve met so many amazing people going through similar things, one of those people being a girl my age. We went through a lot of the same treatments, shared the same worries, and supported each other through the rough times. When she developed sepsis, it happened suddenly and had devastating consequences. She became critically ill and was on a ventilator for a long time to try to give her body time to recover. Watching her fight for her life was frightening, and it made the reality of sepsis impossible to ignore. Seeing her experience up close taught me how fast sepsis can take over and how deeply it affects not only the patient but their entire family. It also made me aware of the risks I face with my own medical devices, and it gave me a greater respect for the work of the nurses who monitor patients like us. These experiences are a major reason I’m pursuing a career in nursing. I want to use what I’ve lived through to support other patients, especially those who may be scared or overwhelmed by their own diagnoses. I’ve seen how crucial it is to recognize sepsis early and how much difference compassionate, knowledgeable care can make. My goal is to be the kind of nurse who helps patients feel safe, informed, and seen. The Begin Again Scholarship would help me continue my education and honor the many people whose lives have been changed by sepsis, including my friend and the families who continue to feel its impact.

My name is Faith Krueger, and I’m about to begin college to pursue a career in nursing. I’m applying for this scholarship not just because it would help me financially, but because I feel a deep connection to who Kalia was. While reading about her, I felt a deep connection to Kalia’s story. Her drive, her heart, and the way she gave everything her best, no matter what is something that I attempt to carry out each and every day. Like Kalia, I was an athlete in high school. I ran cross country, did track, and swam competitively. For the first two years of high school, sports were a huge part of my life and I had planned to continue on through college. I loved pushing myself and being part of a team. However, after my sophomore year, everything changed. I experienced a sudden and severe health crisis that forced me to step away from athletics completely. Luckily, my doctors were able to figure out that I had a rare condition that could cause sudden health issues if not being properly managed and followed. I stopped competing and shifted all my energy toward fighting for my life and learning how to live with a serious, complex condition. While this diagnosis is not something I had ever expected or wanted to experience, I feel so grateful for being given the chance to fight for myself and eventually others. I focused on school, maintained a strong GPA, and continued doing what I could do. I still babysit, volunteered, and showed up for the people in my life. I know what it’s like to have everything shift without warning, to feel like your future is out of your control, and to choose to keep trying anyway. That’s what stood out to me about Kalia. Her strength, her work ethic, and her ability to be a light to others, even when life wasn’t easy. This scholarship would help me continue doing the things that matter to me. I’m going into nursing because I’ve seen firsthand how powerful it is when someone truly cares for you, not just medically, but emotionally. I want to be that person for others. I want to take what I’ve lived through and use it to make someone else feel safer, more understood, and more hopeful. Either way, I’ll carry Kalia’s legacy forward in the way I study, care, and show up. I’m not applying for this scholarship just to help myself, but I’m applying because I want to live a life of impact, like she did, and make the most of the second chance I am so blessed to be living.

I’ve lived most of my life in and out of hospitals. I have both a G and J tube for feeding and a port for IV access, which are things most people don’t think about, but for me, they’re part of everyday life. They’ve kept me alive, but they’ve also complicated almost everything else. Being sick for so long has forced me to be strong in ways I never asked to be. It’s not the kind of strength people usually talk about, it’s not loud or heroic. It’s the kind that shows up quietly, over and over again. It’s getting through another sleepless night because of pain or nausea. It’s waking up after yet another procedure and still doing what needs to be done. It’s missing out on normal things and choosing not to let that make you bitter. It’s learning to speak up when something is wrong, even when you’re exhausted or scared. There have been times I wanted to give up, not on life, but on fighting so hard for a version of life that still didn’t look anything like what I imagined. But I kept going, not because I felt brave, but because I didn’t want to lose myself to the illness. I wanted to keep living, creating, and caring, even if it looked different than I thought it would. That’s part of why I want to be a pediatric nurse. Kids like me, and like Kylee, deserve nurses who truly understand. Nurses who know that strength isn’t always visible. Who don’t get uncomfortable around feeding tubes, ports, or scars. Who walk into the room and see a person, not just a patient. I’ve had nurses who made all the difference. They made me feel safe, they saw me as more than my medical chart, and they stayed kind even when things were hard. But I’ve also had nurses who didn’t listen, who brushed off my pain or overlooked what I needed. I know how much that can hurt, and I know how much it matters when someone gets it right. Kylee showed incredible strength and determination through her own health battles, and I see so much of her story in mine. This scholarship means more than just financial help, it’s a reminder that our strength matters. That resilience can become purpose. As a pediatric nurse, I will carry everything I’ve been through with me. I’ll use it to connect with my patients, to advocate for them, and to give them the kind of care that sees the whole person. I know what it feels like to be on the other side, and I want to be the kind of nurse who makes that side just a little easier, a little softer, and a little more hopeful.

I’ve spent more days of my life in hospitals than most people can imagine. For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived with a chronic illness that has affected nearly every part of my daily life. Feeding tubes, ports, long hospital stays, procedures, and specialists have become my normal. However, in all of that difficulty, I found something unexpectedly beautiful: the people who cared for me. Nurses became my role models. They didn’t just give medicine or check vitals. They made me laugh when I was scared, stayed by my side when I was in pain, and advocated for me when I didn’t have the strength to do it myself. Their care was powerful, and it left a lasting impact on me. That’s what inspired me to become a nurse. I’ve seen firsthand how much of a difference a kind, skilled, and compassionate nurse can make, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. Through the hardest moments of my illness, when I was exhausted, overwhelmed, or in pain, it was often the nurse who made things bearable. Whether it was a gentle word, an understanding smile, or someone simply taking the time to explain what was happening, those small acts made a huge difference. I want to be that kind of person for someone else. I want to give back what was given to me. This journey has also made me incredibly passionate about accessibility and empathy in healthcare. I know how scary it can be to feel unheard, how frustrating it is to be treated like a diagnosis instead of a person, and how isolating it can feel to be sick for a long time. As a future nurse, I want to bring that perspective into the field and be a voice for patients who feel lost in the system. I want to help create spaces where patients feel safe, respected, and understood, whether that’s at the bedside, in a hospital room, or simply through a moment of human connection. The Wieland Healthcare Scholarship feels especially meaningful to me because I know firsthand how much the healthcare environment matters. It isn’t just about the equipment or the medicine, but it’s about the space itself: the chairs where families wait, the recliners where patients recover, the places where real healing happens. I’ve been in those chairs. I’ve held the hands of people I love in those rooms. One day, I hope to be the nurse standing in them, making that space feel just a little bit more comfortable. Nursing isn’t just my career goal. For me, it’s a calling that is a result of a life I never would’ve chosen, but one that’s prepared me for this path in the most personal way possible. I found this scholarship when searching for one’s that interested me on Bold.org.

Ever since I can remember, swimming has been a part of my life. I joined my first swim team when I was just four years old. At that age, I didn’t realize how much the water would shape my childhood, my values, and my future. What started as something fun became something that I will continue to do throughout my life, and is something I can always return to when things feel uncertain. Being on a swim team from such a young age taught me discipline early. Waking up before the sun to jump into cold water isn’t easy, especially as a kid. However, doing it again and again taught me how to push through when I’m tired, how to keep showing up even when I don’t feel like it, and how to set goals and work hard for them. As I got older, swimming gave me friendships that have lasted for years. Teammates who cheered me on during races became people who also showed up in the hardest parts of my life. It showed me how a community can grow strong when we support each other. As I grew in the sport, I began to pass on what I’d learned. I became a lifeguard and started teaching swim lessons. I also helped with children’s water ballet classes, and eventually became an assistant swim coach. It was in those moments, when I was helping a child take their first strokes or seeing the pride on their face when they finally floated on their own, that I realized how much I love helping people learn and grow. I learned to be patient, encouraging, and calm under pressure, which are skills that will stay with me forever. The water has always felt like home, but now, I’m taking what I’ve learned from it into the next chapter of my life. I plan to become a nurse. Just like in swimming, nursing takes discipline, focus, and compassion. I want to help others feel safe, cared for, and understood, whether it’s at a hospital bedside or in a community setting. My time in the pool has already shown me how deeply fulfilling it is to guide, support, and uplift others. Applying for this scholarship means a lot to me, because Cynthia Browne Vino’s story sounds so familiar to my own. Her love for swimming, her role as a teacher and mentor, and her devotion to helping others is something I admire. I hope to carry forward that same legacy: to give back to the community, to help people grow, and to keep spreading the joy and strength that swimming has given me.

Ever since I was little, the hospital has felt more like a second home than a place people just visit. I live with a chronic illness that has kept me in and out of hospitals for most of my life. Over the years, I’ve had feeding tubes, surgeries, and more treatments than I can count. I have a GJ tube and a port, and I’ve learned to care for both of them myself. I can sterilely access my own port, manage my infusions, and handle my medical care at home, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I’ve always been fascinated by the medical field and wanted to learn everything I could. Taking ownership of my care has helped me stay in school, stay independent, and focus on healing and growing. After everything I’ve been through, I can confidently say that it was the nurses who made the biggest difference in my life. They were the ones who took time to talk to me, listen to me, explain things, and treat me like a person. I want to be that kind of nurse for someone else. My goal is to become a pediatric ICU nurse, where I can support kids and teens who are facing the same fears, procedures, and challenges I did. I know firsthand how scary and overwhelming medical care can be, especially as a child. I’ve also seen how deeply comforting it is to have a nurse who understands, who cares, and who fights for you. Even though I have experienced many challenges, it hasn’t stopped me from gaining experience even more experience. I’ve spent years watching and learning from nurses, shadowing them as a patient, asking questions, and even picking up some of their habits. I’ve also volunteered at community races for organizations like Girls on the Run, helping younger kids and supporting positive, healthy growth in other ways. I’ve also learned to advocate for myself with doctors and care teams, which are skills that will help me advocate for future patients one day, too. My goal is to earn my RN and eventually specialize in pediatric intensive care. I want to work directly with children and families, bringing them the same kind of strength and hope that so many nurses gave me. Long-term, I hope to be part of improving care for medically complex kids; making the system easier, more accessible, and more compassionate. Going into nursing isn’t just a career choice for me, it’s personal. I know what it feels like to be stuck in a hospital bed, and I also know how powerful it is to have someone beside you who truly cares. I want to be that person. I want to take everything I’ve learned from my own medical journey and use it to help others feel safe, supported, and seen. Thank you for considering me for the Sara Jane Memorial Scholarship. It would be an honor to carry on her legacy of compassion and dedication.

Mast cell disease, specifically MCAS, has shaped nearly every part of my life in ways I could never have imagined. While many people hear about the medical symptoms—flushing, swelling, fatigue, and anaphylaxis—what’s not often discussed is how the condition affects you on a deeply personal level, from relationships to dreams for the future. For me, the impact has been profound, not only on my physical health but also on my education, my family, and the way I look at the world. Because of my chronic illness, I’ve had to adjust to a life that’s different from what I expected as a teenager. I couldn’t attend school regularly, and the physical toll often left me too exhausted to keep up with classwork. My parents, who were already balancing their jobs, had to take time off to fly me to the Mayo Clinic for specialized treatment. Every doctor’s visit was a new challenge, a new hurdle to clear, but it also added a financial strain that only deepened our already difficult situation. With my condition, I need my parents close by, so they’ve had to adjust their lives around mine. They worry constantly about leaving me alone, unsure of what might happen when I’m not in their care. This has made it impossible for me to live away from home for college, as I need the safety and support of being near my family. One of the most challenging aspects of living with mast cell disease has been the need for a surgically implanted port for my weekly infusions. The procedure itself was necessary to manage my condition, but it has also introduced a new layer of risk and insecurity, especially as a teenage girl. The idea of having a foreign device embedded in my body was daunting, and as I navigate adolescence, there’s a natural fear of how others perceive me. It can be difficult to accept something that feels so different, yet it’s an essential part of my treatment. I often feel vulnerable and self-conscious, especially during a time in my life when fitting in and feeling “normal” can seem so important. The port, while helping me manage my illness, is also a reminder of the constant battle I face, one that I wish I didn’t have to fight. To accommodate my illness and its unpredictable flare-ups, I’ve had to take a unique approach to my education. I’ve transitioned to online learning for part of my schooling, and even then, I have to be mindful of how much I take on at once. To make sure I don’t overwhelm myself, I’ve opted to take summer classes and spread out my workload, allowing for more flexibility when my health isn’t at its best. It’s not easy, and it’s not the college experience I once imagined, but it’s the only way for me to keep moving forward while still managing my condition. The toll this disease has taken on my family and me has been immense. Despite all these challenges, I’m determined to keep moving forward. Mast cell disease has taught me resilience and the importance of perseverance. I’ve learned how to prioritize my mental health, to adjust my goals when necessary, and to find purpose in the struggle. My health may dictate much of my life, but it doesn’t define who I am or what I can achieve. Even with all the obstacles, I’ve found ways to continue my education and pursue my dreams. The path ahead is uncertain, but I’m committed to walking it with purpose, knowing that every step, no matter how small, is progress.

Balancing academic responsibilities with personal life is always a challenge, but as a female college student, mental health has had an even more significant impact on how I navigate these experiences. As women, we often face unique pressures—societal expectations, academic stress, and the constant juggling of multiple roles—that can deeply affect our mental well-being. These pressures are intensified for students like me, who also deal with chronic health conditions. Managing both my health and academic workload has been overwhelming at times, but it has also reinforced the importance of making mental health a priority. In my academic life, the stress and anxiety that come with being a woman can be paralyzing. As I work to meet academic expectations, I often find myself struggling to balance my studies with the emotional weight of societal pressures. There is a constant expectation to be successful, well-rounded, and perfect, all while dealing with personal struggles. For me, this pressure can lead to anxiety, making it harder to concentrate, retain information, and meet deadlines. These struggles affect my personal life as well. Anxiety and stress cause me to withdraw from friends and family, even when I need them most. There are days when I feel disconnected from my support network, and the weight of everything becomes too much. As a woman, I also feel the added pressure to always be “on”—always taking care of others and pushing through discomfort. This can be emotionally draining, and I have to remind myself that taking care of my mental health is not a sign of weakness but rather a necessity for my overall well-being. The financial strain of college tuition and medical bills only amplifies this stress, making it harder to focus on anything other than how to make ends meet. Despite these challenges, I’ve taken intentional steps to prioritize my mental health. First and foremost, I’ve learned to recognize that I’m allowed to take breaks and ask for help. As a female student, I’ve learned not to measure my worth by the number of things I can accomplish at once or how perfect my results are. Allocating time for both studying and self-care has been essential in maintaining my mental health. Physical activity, like taking walks or doing yoga, is another important part of my routine, helping me manage stress and clear my mind. Self-care is another important part of my mental health strategy. As a woman who is often expected to do it all, I sometimes forget to make time for the things that truly recharge me. Whether it’s reading a book, watching a movie, or simply resting, I make self-care a non-negotiable part of my routine. I also prioritize mental health by practicing mindfulness techniques, like journaling and meditation. This helps me maintain the energy I need to perform academically and emotionally. By actively prioritizing my mental health, I’ve seen improvements in both my academic performance and personal life. I’m able to focus more, complete tasks with greater efficiency, and maintain stronger relationships. This scholarship would alleviate some of the financial burdens I face, allowing me to continue prioritizing my mental health while pursuing my dream of becoming a pediatric ICU nurse. It would be an incredible honor to be recognized for my commitment to mental wellness, and I hope to use my experiences to help other women who face similar challenges in their academic journeys. As women, we deserve to succeed, but we also deserve to thrive mentally and emotionally as we navigate our paths.