When I was in seventh grade, my father was deported. He was the primary breadwinner in our home, and almost overnight, my mom became a single parent carrying the weight of our entire household. She's still unemployed today, which means the financial instability that started in 2018 never really left us; it just shifted shape over the years. I say this first because I do not think you can understand my accomplishments without understanding what it took to get to them. Every internship, every leadership role, every late night finishing an assignment after a shift of work or caregiving, has happened inside of that reality, not around it. I'm a first-generation Sierra Leonean-American student at the University of Maryland, College Park, studying Information Science with a focus in UX research and user-centered design. I did not grow up knowing what UX design even was, but I did grow up noticing when things did not work for people, whether that was a confusing form, a website that was not accessible, or a system that quietly left certain people out. That noticing turned into a genuine calling. I want to build digital tools and spaces that actually work for people who are too often an afterthought in the design process, whether that's someone with low vision, someone with ADHD, or someone who's simply never been asked what they need. Academically and professionally, I have tried to chase that calling every chance I get. In January 2025, I completed the Break Through Tech DC Sprinternship with MTech Ventures, where I spent three weeks as an intern helping redesign the University of Maryland I-Corps and Mid-Atlantic I-Corps Hub websites. That meant running customer discovery interviews with leadership and sponsors, translating those insights into Figma and Canva layouts, collaborating on Webflow builds, and even working on data integration between Kuali and Salesforce. It was the first time I got to design with real stakeholder feedback instead of a class rubric, and it confirmed everything I suspected about wanting a career at the intersection of technology and people. More recently, in March 2026, I took part in the UXTerps Makeathon, a 48-hour design sprint hosted with Hack4Impact, where my team pulled research from TechTurnUp interviews and prototyped a full solution in Figma to present to industry judges. Working under that kind of pressure, with real collaborators, competition, and a hard deadline, stretched me in ways a semester-long project never could. Outside of the classroom, I've built a life around showing up for people. I'm a mentor in the Sister-to-Sister program through OMSE, where I support underrepresented girls of color navigating college life, academics, and their own sense of belonging; honestly, a lot of what I do there feels like user research: listening closely, asking the right questions, and making someone feel less alone in a system that wasn't necessarily built with them in mind. I also serve on the Marketing and Communications team for the Health & Wellness Ministry at my church, where I provide youthful insight, design flyers, do voiceovers, and help shape how our ministry shows up for the community. And as a small content creator, I've spent the last few years learning how to tell stories that actually connect, which has taught me just as much about audience and empathy as any design course has. None of this has been easy to balance. There were opportunities I had to let go of many times growing up simply because I could not afford the travel, the tools, or the time away from work. Being first-generation also meant there was no roadmap waiting for me; no one in my family had gone through college applications, internship searches, or financial aid appeals before, so I have had to figure most of it out in real time, often through the grace of mentors and community stepping in where my own experience ran out. But I do not say any of this looking for sympathy. I say it because I think it is exactly why I take nothing for granted. I know what it costs to be here, and that awareness shows up in how seriously I treat every opportunity in front of me. My faith has been the thread holding all of this together. It's what reminds me, especially on the harder weeks, that I'm not building any of this just for myself. I want to eventually create the kind of access and mentorship for young women of color in tech and design that I've had to work so hard to find for myself, so that the path is a little less uphill for the next girl walking it. If you're looking for someone who will treat this scholarship as a genuine investment rather than a line item, that is who I am. I do not do things halfway; not my coursework, not my leadership roles, not the people I show up for. I am asking to be considered not because I have had it easy, but because I have not, and I have kept building anyway. This scholarship would not just support me financially; it would give me the room to stop choosing between survival and growth, and finally invest fully in both. Thank you.