Sustainability should be a right, not a privilege. My entrepreneurial engineering journey began somberly in my grandfather’s flooded backyard in Charleston, South Carolina. As we waded through water that carried debris into historically Black neighborhoods while nearby affluent areas remained dry, he explained how the decades of infrastructure decisions had systematically channeled water toward communities like ours for generations. That day transformed my childhood fascination with engineering into a deeper understanding of how design choices shape entire communities, often to their detriment. It also planted the seed for my future: launching a sustainable energy engineering firm commercializing neighborhood-scale waste-to-energy systems using plasma conversion technology. I became interested in entrepreneurship when I realized that traditional markets had failed communities like mine and that solving complex socio-environmental challenges requires innovative business models as much as technical solutions. After earning my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, I will pursue a sustainable energy systems engineering doctorate and establish my firm. My firm will take a community-centered, merging technical innovation with social impact by designing systems that will cut costs and emissions simultaneously. Unlike traditional large-scale facilities, my company will focus on localized, community-centered solutions, empowering urban neighborhoods to convert waste into affordable energy on-site. The plasma conversion technology will break down household waste without harmful emissions, capturing released gases to generate electricity while producing reusable byproducts that support circular economies. However, while I am excited by the technical challenges, such as optimizing plasma furnace efficiency, designing scalable systems for various community sizes, and creating user-friendly interfaces that help residents manage their energy production, the social implications are what drive me. I cannot wait to create solutions that mitigate environmental damage and actively repair historical inequities, as each installation will create technical jobs within communities while returning economic benefits directly to residents. I can imagine a future where families see their utility bills drop after installing a waste-to-energy system, where they can now direct their extra funds toward education, healthcare, or housing security, creating a ripple effect beyond the system’s reach. For me, engineering can create a social transformation. As president of Spelman’s Society of Women Engineers, I have developed leadership skills while mentoring young Black girls in STEM, and through entrepreneurship, I will bridge the gap between technological advancement and community well-being by creating sustainable products, providing meaningful employment, and addressing environmental challenges through engineering. I will work to build innovative systems that serve everyone. No community will be technologically left behind, not on my watch.

Sustainability should be a right, not a privilege. Growing up in Charleston, South Carolina, I witnessed environmental injustice as a tangible reality. Families living near power plants struggled to afford the plant’s electricity, and floodwaters carried waste into Black neighborhoods while nearby, more affluent areas remained dry. One might assume that abstract policy failures are the primary contributors to the daily challenges faced by my community; however, it is, in fact, urban planning decisions that exacerbated generational inequities among Black populations. My grandfather taught me Charleston’s history of forcing Black residents into flood-prone, low-lying areas, creating cycles of vulnerability that newer environmental policies barely addressed. From then on, my experiences and family history transformed my engineering ambitions into a mission to develop sustainable systems that serve communities overlooked by technological advancement. As a mechanical engineering student, I have channeled this mission into creating a neighborhood-scale waste-to-energy system using plasma conversion technology. Unlike traditional facilities, my design brings energy production directly to underserved communities, converting household waste into affordable power through a cleaner process that produces reusable byproducts. The innovation addresses twin crises: environmental sustainability and economic disenfranchisement. We must tackle these forces together to create actual equitable urban environments. Leading Spelman College’s Society of Women Engineers as President taught me that we can make the most effective technical innovations are ones that empower the community. I saw how access to knowledge could transform individual futures and community possibilities when organizing STEM workshops for young Black women from neighborhoods like mine. The pride in their eyes when completing their first circuit reflected something profound: ownership over supposedly inaccessible technology. Sustainable urban solutions must be co-created with communities, not imposed upon them with no agency. My vision for equitable urban environments centers on accessibility, sustainability, and community ownership because the connection between energy inequality and overall urban challenges runs deep. When families spend disproportionate income on utilities, their housing security crumbles because rising energy costs are often accompanied by gentrification as infrastructure improvements increase expenses while displacing long-term residents. It is a pattern repeated across America that demands intentional correction through integrated planning approaches. I plan to expand my engineering focus to incorporate urban planning strategies that specifically reduce energy burdens for communities facing housing precarity. We can ensure development projects return economic value to those who need it most while building neighborhood resilience against gentrification pressures by implementing partial ownership models for community-based energy systems. We can create microgrids that simultaneously address climate goals while easing the economic strain that pushes families toward homelessness by deploying localized energy production systems in targeted neighborhoods and reimagining city infrastructure as a tool for both environmental and economic justice. What fuels my passion is witnessing the transformative potential of thoughtful design. During neighborhood cleanups in Charleston, I have spoken with elderly residents who remember when community-centered planning created vibrant neighborhoods before highway projects and industrial zoning fractured them. The stories of what was — and what could be again — remind me that urban environments are not static; they constantly change to reflect our collective values and priorities. Cities are complex challenges, but solutions emerge when we combine technical expertise with lived experience and social consciousness. My commitment to developing community-centered sustainable energy systems is part of a broader mission to help build urban environments. I will pioneer a future where sustainable energy, affordable housing, and environmental protection are collective rights, not separate goals, so equity and sustainability reinforce each other rather than compete. No oppression will deny a community’s technological advancement. Not on my watch.

Christianity felt like a job in the beginning. From a young age, I understood that being a pastor’s kid (PK) means being a model of perfection. Having accepted Christ when I was 6, I always knew that I had to serve and perform for the congregation’s approval of my family. Literally and figuratively, I was on the church’s stage, and my faith was a carefully choreographed dance of expectations and achievements. Christianity was a responsibility, not a relationship. I had spent years trying to be the perfect PK, even outside the church. I served tirelessly, acted in church events, mentored younger students, and helped with community service projects. I prided myself on being the one who could do it all and never showed weakness, and I carried that obligation with me up to college. But beneath the surface, I was drowning, so much that my sophomore year of college became my breaking point. The weight of endless responsibilities, academic pressures, and the unspoken expectations of being a PK collapsed around me. I was exhausted from serving God through constant action, yet feeling spiritually empty. My prayers felt mechanical, my service rote, and my connection with God seemed as distant and transactional as my homework assignments. By the second semester, I had hit rock bottom. I was exhausted, academically burnt out, spiritually depleted, and feeling like a fraud in the most rigorous semester for a Physics major. Then, in complete spiritual burnout, I sank to my knees and discovered the difference between serving God and depending on God. I began to understand that God did not need my perfection; He wanted my vulnerability. By honestly reflecting on my spiritual mindset, I learned to actively surrender and trust the One who is beyond my capabilities. I stopped trying to prove my worth through constant service and started listening, learning to find strength in stillness. Romans 8:28 (KJV), “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose,” became my reality rather than a platitude. I realized that my worth was not in my ability to serve perfectly but in God’s ability to work His will through my imperfections. Of course, my transformation was not overnight. I had to learn to say no, set boundaries, prioritize my mental and spiritual health, and, most importantly, break the perception of my own identity, achingly switching it from the perfect pastor’s daughter to a child of God. Slowly but surely, my academic performance improved through a newfound peace, my church leadership shifted to genuinely connecting with people, and my relationship with God became less about what I could do for Him and more about what He was doing in me. Today, my faith is a journey of continuous surrender, and the Jim Maxwell Memorial Scholarship would allow me to continue this authentic faith journey while pursuing my education, supporting me as I strive to create spaces where others, especially PKs and those raised in ministry, can find freedom from performance-based faith. I want to show them that faith is building a genuine, messy, beautiful relationship with a supernatural God, not trying to be superhuman ourselves. Because all things work together for the good of the Lord — even my most broken moments and deepest struggles — for a purpose greater than I could imagine.

Sustainability should be a right, not a privilege. Growing up in Charleston, South Carolina, I witnessed environmental injustice as a tangible reality. Families living near power plants struggled to afford the plant’s electricity, and floodwaters carried waste into Black neighborhoods while nearby, more affluent areas remained dry. One might assume that abstract policy failures are the primary contributors to the daily challenges faced by my community; however, it is, in fact, urban planning decisions that exacerbated generational inequities among Black populations. My grandfather taught me Charleston’s history of forcing Black residents into flood-prone, low-lying areas, creating cycles of vulnerability that newer environmental policies barely addressed. From then on, my experiences and family history transformed my engineering ambitions into a mission to develop sustainable systems that serve communities overlooked by technological advancement. As a mechanical engineering student, I have channeled this mission into creating a neighborhood-scale waste-to-energy system using plasma conversion technology. Unlike traditional facilities, my design brings energy production directly to underserved communities, converting household waste into affordable power through a cleaner process that produces reusable byproducts. The innovation addresses twin crises: environmental sustainability and economic disenfranchisement. We must tackle these forces together to create actual equitable urban environments. Leading Spelman College’s Society of Women Engineers as President taught me that we can make the most effective technical innovations are ones that empower the community. I saw how access to knowledge could transform individual futures and community possibilities when organizing STEM workshops for young Black women from neighborhoods like mine. The pride in their eyes when completing their first circuit reflected something profound: ownership over supposedly inaccessible technology. Sustainable urban solutions must be co-created with communities, not imposed upon them with no agency. My vision for equitable urban environments centers on accessibility, sustainability, and community ownership because the connection between energy inequality and overall urban challenges runs deep. When families spend disproportionate income on utilities, their housing security crumbles because rising energy costs are often accompanied by gentrification as infrastructure improvements increase expenses while displacing long-term residents. It is a pattern repeated across America that demands intentional correction through integrated planning approaches. I plan to expand my engineering focus to incorporate urban planning strategies that specifically reduce energy burdens for communities facing housing precarity. We can ensure development projects return economic value to those who need it most while building neighborhood resilience against gentrification pressures by implementing partial ownership models for community-based energy systems. We can create microgrids that simultaneously address climate goals while easing the economic strain that pushes families toward homelessness by deploying localized energy production systems in targeted neighborhoods and reimagining city infrastructure as a tool for both environmental and economic justice. What fuels my passion is witnessing the transformative potential of thoughtful design. During neighborhood cleanups in Charleston, I have spoken with elderly residents who remember when community-centered planning created vibrant neighborhoods before highway projects and industrial zoning fractured them. The stories of what was — and what could be again — remind me that urban environments are not static; they constantly change to reflect our collective values and priorities. Cities are complex challenges, but solutions will emerge when we combine technical expertise with lived experience and critical consciousness. My commitment to developing community-centered sustainable energy systems is part of a broader mission to help build urban environments. I will pioneer a future where sustainable energy, affordable housing, and environmental protection are collective rights, not separate goals, so equity and sustainability reinforce each other rather than compete. No oppression will deny a community’s technological advancement. Not on my watch.