My inspiration for pursuing nursing comes from a blend of personal experience, family responsibility, and the kind of compassion I witnessed during a moment that changed my life. As a first-generation college student, I've always carried the weight and pride of being the first in my family to walk this path. Education has never been something that felt guaranteed to us, so every step I take is intentional. Nursing became more than a career goal when my sister went through a medical situation that opened my eyes to the reality of healthcare. Watching her struggle after a surgery that didn't go as expected showed me how deeply the quality of care affects a person's physical and emotional recovery. During that time, one person made a difference: her therapist. He didn't just help her regain confidence, he treated her like a whole person, not just a patient. His encouragement, patience, and genuine belief in her reminded me that healing isn't only about medicine; it's about connection. Seeing the impact he had on her made me realize that I wanted to be that kind of presence for someone else. That experience shaped my understanding of what nursing truly is. It's not just clinical skill; it's advocacy, compassion, and the ability to bring calm into someone's most vulnerable moments. I want to be the nurse who listens, who notices the small details, and who makes patients feel safe and supported. Nursing gives me the chance to turn my family's challenges into purpose and to build a future where I can uplift others the way someone once uplifted us. To me, "human touch" represents the heart of nursing, the part that cannot be taught through textbooks or measured by charts. It is the emotional presence, empathy, and genuine connection that a nurse brings into every interaction. While I first understood this through my sister's therapist, who treated her with patience and encouragement during her recovery, I've come to see that human touch is a universal expectation in healthcare. It is the difference between care that is simply delivered and care that is truly felt. Human touch shows up in many forms: a reassuring tone, a moment of eye contact, a gentle explanation, or simply sitting with a patient who feels overwhelmed. These small gestures can completely transform a patient's experience. When someone is scared, in pain, or unsure of what comes next, the way a nurse communicates can determine whether they feel alone or supported. Human touch reminds patients that they are more than their diagnosis, they are people with fears, hopes, and stories. This idea reflects the legacy of Mary Lou Losinger, the nurse honored by this scholarship. She was known for her "good bedside manner" and her lifelong commitment to caring for people both inside and outside the hospital. Her example shows that human touch is not a single action but a mindset, a choice to treat every patient with dignity, patience, and compassion, even on the busiest days. In patient care, human touch builds trust and reduces anxiety. It encourages patients to speak up, ask questions, and participate in their own healing. It can improve outcomes by creating an environment where patients feel safe enough to be honest about their symptoms and confident enough to follow their treatment plans. As a future nurse, I want to carry that same spirit into every room I enter. Human touch is the foundation of the nurse I hope to become, someone who heals not only the body, but the heart and mind as well. Human touch is what transforms healthcare from a system into a relationship. It reminds patients that they are not just moving through a medical process; they are being cared for by someone who genuinely wants to see them heal. As a future nurse, I want every patient to feel that they matter and that they aren't facing their challenges alone. My goal is to bring that level of compassion into every interaction, so patients feel supported not only physically, but emotionally as well.

My interest in nursing didn't begin with a single moment, it grew quietly, long before I understood what the word "career" even meant. As a child, hospitals never felt cold or intimidating to me. They felt like places where people were cared for, where families held onto hope, and where someone's kindness could change the entire atmosphere of a room. Even then, I felt drawn to the environment, like I belonged in a space where healing and change happened. But my purpose became clearer as I got older and watched my sister go through one of the hardest experiences of her life. A surgery that was supposed to help her ended up changing everything, leaving her with challenges she never asked for. I saw her pain, her frustration, and the way a lack of compassion from some providers made her feel small and overlooked. It opened my eyes to how deeply healthcare can affect a person not just physically, but emotionally. And then there was her therapist. He didn't just help her move her body; he helped her believe in herself again. He treated her like a whole person, not a case file or a complication. Every session left her lighter, more hopeful, more like herself. Watching him work with her showed me what real care looks like, the kind that reaches beyond the surface and touches someone's spirit. He inspired her, and through her, he inspired me. That experience changed the way I saw nursing. It stopped being an idea and became a calling. I realized I wanted to be the kind of nurse who notices the small things, listens even when a patient doesn't know how to explain what they're feeling, and brings comfort into rooms where fear is heavy. I want to be the person who shows up with patience, compassion, and intention the way my sister's therapist did for her. Choosing nursing is also deeply personal because of something my family and I recently learned. Not long ago we found out that her therapist, the same person who poured so much hope and encouragement into her had passed away from COVID a few years back. Hearing that news felt heavy, like losing someone who had quietly shaped our lives without ever asking for recognition. But instead of discouraging me, it pushed me even further. It remined me that the impact he made didn't end with him; it lives on in the people he helped, including my sister and me. Continuing on this path feels like honoring him, carrying forward the compassion, patience, and humanity he showed us. Nursing isn't just a career I'm choosing; it's a way of continuing the legacy of someone who changed my life without ever knowing it.

Impact doesn't always begin with a title or a formal leadership role. Sometimes it starts quietly, in the way you show up for people when they feel unseen. Since starting college my understanding of community has shifted. I used to think service was something you did at events or volunteer days. Now I realize it's woven into everyday choices: the way you treat people, how you pay attention, and how you decide to make someone's day a little lighter. College opened my eyes to how many people walk around carrying stress, loneliness, or pressure they don't talk about. Over the past year, I've become the person my friends come to when they feel overwhelmed. I listen, support, and remind them they're not alone. These conversations taught me that emotional support is a form of community impact, one that can change someone's entire outlook. Being present for others helped me understand that care doesn't have to be loud to be meaningful. Outside of campus, I've stayed rooted in the community that raised me. When I'm able to attend church, I stay connected with the people who shape my values. During the holidays, I helped with events for children, making sure they feel included and supported during a season that can be difficult for many families. My family and I host back-to-school drives, Thanksgiving giveaways, and Christmas events. These moments bring families relief and joy, and they remind me that service is most powerful when it meets people where they are. Even in everyday situations, I try to create small moments of kindness. I help older adults in stores when I see them struggling with bags or heavy items because I understand that simple tasks can become overwhelming. And recently, I made it a habit to compliment people more. It may seem small, but in a world where many people feel invisible, a genuine compliment can shift someone's entire day. You never know what someone is carrying, and sometimes a kind word is the only encouragement they receive. These experiences have changed me. College taught me how to let go of things I can't control: emotions, situations, and expectations that once weighed me down. Letting go made me calmer, more grounded, and more open to serving others. It pushed me to be intentional about the energy I bring into every space. It taught me that healing isn't just something you experience; it's something you can give. As I work toward my nursing degree, I plan to use everything I've learned to create a change in healthcare. I want to be the nurse who notices the quiet signs of distress, who listens without judgment, and who makes feel safe in moments that are often frightening. My goal is to help people feel supported not just physically, but emotionally. I want to bring warmth, compassion, and humanity into every room I walk into. Healthcare is often seen as a place for treatment, but I want to help reshape it into a place of comfort, understanding, and connection. Whether I'm advocating for a patient who feel unheard, educating a family, or simply offering a moment of reassurance, I want my presence to make healthcare feel less intimidating and more human. The impact I've made in my community: through kindness, consistency, and care is the foundation of the nurse I'm becoming. My degree with give me the skills. but my heart will guide the change I create

My journey toward nursing began long before I understood what healthcare really was. When my older sister had a stroke before she turned one, it changed the course of her life and our family's life. She spent her childhood in therapy learning to talk, learning to move, and learning how to navigate challenges that most kids her age never had to think about. As her younger sibling, I grew up watching her fight for every bit of progress with a strength that still inspires me today. Even though I was young, I could feel the weight my family carried. The long drives to therapy, the frustration when things didn't come easily, and the determination my sister showed even when she was tired or overwhelmed. Those early years taught me that healing is not simple, and that families often carry invisible battles behind the scenes. When she was around twelve, she had surgery that was supposed to help with complications from her stroke. We went into it hopeful, believing it would make her life easier. But during that surgery, the surgeon forgot to complete a major part of the procedure. That mistake changed everything. Instead of improving, she ended up with even more complications than before, complications she still lives with today. As a younger sibling, I didn't understand the medical details, but I understood the impact. I saw the confusion, the disappointment, and the emotional toll it took on her and on my family. I saw how much trust families place in healthcare workers, and how devastating it is when that trust is broken. That experience shaped me deeply. It taught me that healthcare is not just about skill, it's about responsibility, awareness, and treating every patient like someone whose life will be affected long after the appointment ends. That is why I want to become a nurse. I want to work with children and teens because I know how vulnerable they are, and how much it matters to have someone who listens, someone who pays attention, and someone who genuinely cares. I want to be the nurse who brings comfort and clarity during moments that feel overwhelming. I want to be the kind of nurse my sister needed more of, someone who leads with intention, compassion, and humanity If I could create something fun to make the world better, I would design two programs dedicated to hospitalized children: Hope Hallway and Sunshine Sessions. Hope Hallway would be a space where kids can share their victories, fears, and encouragement with one another, a place that reminds them they are not alone. Sunshine Sessions would bring short, uplifting activity breaks into long hospital days, giving kids moments of joy, creativity, and emotional support. These ideas come from my sister's journey, from the long days she endured, from the moments she needed hope, and from the strength she showed even when things were unfair. I want to turn my family's pain into purpose. I want to bring compassion, intention, and humanity into healthcare. Watching my sister face lifelong complications from a surgery that was supposed to help her changed the way I see the world. It showed me how deeply a medical mistake can affect a child and the people who love them. Those moments stay with me and push me to become the kind of nurse who pays attention, listens, and protects families during their most vulnerable times. My sister's journey is the reason I'm committed to bringing care, safety, and empathy into every room I enter as a future nurse.

My decision to continue my education in nursing didn't come from the typical "I want to help people" answer everyone gives. For me, it came from a mixture of personal experiences that shaped the way I see healthcare, starting with family members who work in the nursing field, my disabled sister whose surgery went wrong, and the therapist who changed her life. These experiences opened my eyes to both the beauty and the flaws within healthcare. My sister's surgery was the moment that changed everything for me. Before the surgery, she was already facing challenges from her stoke, despite that she was still full of life and potential even with people doubting her. When the surgery went wrong, she was left with even more lifelong complications. Watching her go through that made me realize that not everyone in healthcare is there for the right reasons. Some people see nursing as just a job or paycheck, not a responsibility. They often forget that the decisions they make and the care they provide can change someone's entire life. Seeing my sister suffer because of someone's carelessness made me want to become the kind of nurse who does the opposite, someone who treats every patient with intention, compassion, and genuine care. But even in the middle of that pain, there was a bright spot: her therapist. He had been working with her before and after the surgery, and his support stayed consistent throughout everything she went through. Every day she came home excited to talk about their sessions. She would tell us how he pushed her to do better, how he believed in her, and how he made ger feel capable even on her hardest days. He didn't just help her physically he helped her mentally and emotionally. He made her feel seen, supported, and understood. As I got older and started thinking more seriously about my future, I realized how much these experiences shaped the way I view healthcare. I didn't just want a career I wanted a purpose. Seeing the difference between careless care and intentional care made me understand how powerful a nurse's role really is. A nurse can either contribute to someone's pain or be the person who helps them heal, not just physically but emotionally too. That realization is what pushed me to continue my education in nursing. I want to be the kind of nurse who pays attention, listens, and treats every patient like their life matters, because it does. My sister's journey taught me that patients remember how you made them feel long after the medical part is over, and I want my patients to remember feeling supported, safe, and well overstood. Because of everything I've experienced, I know I want to work with kids and teens in a hospital setting. Hospitals can be overwhelming, especially for children and teenagers who may not fully understand what's happening to them. I will be the nurse who brings comfort in those moments, the person who explains things in a way they can understand, who advocated for them when they're scared. I will be the kind of nurse who shows up with patience, empathy, and encouragement, because I know firsthand how much that can change someone's experiences. Continuing my nursing education at Texas Woman's University is helping me grow into the nurse I want to be. My goal is to work with kids and teens, where I can make the same kind of impact my sister's therapist made on her. Healthcare is more than medicine to me, its connection and trust. That's the nurse I am working to become

Impacting a community doesn't always require grand gestures or financial contributions. Sometimes, the most meaningful changes come from the simplest acts of service, helping without expecting anything in return. Through volunteering and mentoring young athletes, I have been able to contribute to my community in ways that have not only helped others but have also shaped me into a more compassionate and responsible individual. One of the ways I have given back to my community is through volunteering at school and local events. I have participated in tutoring elementary students helping them build confidence in their studies, I have been involved in school plays, assisted in setting up events, and even helped organize gifts for elementary students. Around the holidays, I joined efforts to give out free turkeys to families in need, ensuring that more people in our community could enjoy a warm meal. Staying after school to clean and participating in student-led tours for incoming freshmen, helping younger students feel welcomed and informed about their new environment. Each of these experiences taught me that the value of service and community. I realized that being helpful doesn't require a paycheck- it builds bonds, creates support systems, and fosters a sense of unity. Beyond volunteering, I have also had the privilege of mentoring younger athletes. As a softball player, the sport has played a significant role in my life, teaching me discipline, teamwork, and perseverance. When given the opportunity to assist the local middle school's softball team, I was honored to help students find the same passion for the game that I have. Whether it was helping them refine their pitching skills, offering words of encouragement, or simply being there to support them, I saw firsthand how guidance and motivation could make a difference in a young athlete's journey. Some players were just beginning their softball experience, uncertain about their abilities, and I made it my mission to remind them that improvement comes with practice and dedication. Seeing their confidence grow over time was incredibly rewarding. The experience reinforced my belief that leadership isn't just about excelling personally- it's about lifting others up and helping them discover their own potential. It also showed me that being a mentor is about more than teaching skills; it’s about being a role model and a source of encouragement, someone who helps others believe in themselves. Through these experiences, I have learned that impact is not measured by what we receive but by what we give. Volunteering and mentorship have shown me that even the smallest efforts can create meaningful change. Whether through academic support, community service, or sports mentorship, I have been able to contribute to the growth and well-being of those around me. These moments have taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of making others feel valued. They have also influenced my outlook on leadership- not as a position of authority, but as a role that requires compassion, dedication, and the willingness to serve others. Looking ahead, I hope to carry this mindset forward in all aspects of my life, whether in my future career or within my community. As someone who aspires to work in nursing or psychology, I know that these fields require the same qualities I have developed through my experiences: the a to ability listen, guide, and uplift others. No matter where life takes me, I want to continue finding ways to help those around me, proving that small actions can lead to lasting change.