I used to think the hardest part would be getting in to college. Transferring to a major university, leaving behind the familiarity of community college, holding a full-time job while taking a full course load, and paying for everything on my own felt like the peak. But the truth is, the hardest part has been staying in. Showing up, every semester, despite the exhaustion. Turning down internships because they didn’t pay - knowing I had to keep my current job to pay the bills. Studying at midnight after a ten hour shift. It can wear on you. But I’m still here. And that, I’d argue, has been my greatest achievement so far. Not because I’ve done it perfectly. But because I’ve stayed focused on why I started. I chose it because I have lived in the places most planners or politicians don’t think about. I’ve walked miles on roads with no sidewalks. I’ve waited for buses that never came. I’ve seen how the disconnection of infrastructure, opportunity, transit, etc. can shape a neighborhood and a life. Starting in my teens, I began studying urbanism and the built environment. Not in a classroom, but in real life. I didn’t need a lecture on redlining to know how it plays out, I grew up in it. Later, I’d find names for the things I experienced: spatial inequity, disinvestment, environmental injustice, food deserts. I read obsessively on such topics (The Power Broker, Midwest Futures, The Death and Life of Great American Cities to name a few) and took classes that challenged what I thought I already knew. I started asking better questions and not just considering what is broken, but who benefits from it staying that way? For my final writing project in my American Race and Ethnic Relations course, I conducted my own interviews with experts on environmental justice. I built independent research projects and spent late nights reading through academic papers, trying to find the perfect source. I truly enjoy the pursuit of finding answers which connect theory or data to reality. It puts into perspective the various injustices millions face in the United States and the systems that built and perpetuate said injustices. It hasn’t been easy to balance everything. I work full time. I live on my own. I attend school full time. There are no shortcuts, no fallback plan whatsoever. But doing things the hard way has taught me to plan, to better manage my time and feel good about my personal and academic accomplishments. My passion for urbanism and cities as a whole is what has kept me going. The idea that I get to learn about something I care so deeply about and, upon graduation, pursue it as a career. I want to work in the places that have been overlooked, lied to, disinvested or pushed out. I want to be in rooms where decisions are made, and I want to ensure those decisions are shaped by people who understand the cost of getting it wrong. I want to have a hand in urban designs and policy. I hope to work in environmental planning, transportation equity, or climate resiliency-focused design that centers marginalized communities. Longer-term, I’ve already started considering a PhD. The idea of continuing this research and teaching these frameworks to others is something that excites me more than I anticipated. That’s the future I’m working toward. Not just graduation, but long-term impact for myself and others. This scholarship would help me keep moving forward and aid in my academic journey. Moreover, it would be an investment in someone who is passionate about their field and has chosen the harder path yet plans to keep walking it.