When I think about what I want to build, I do not think about a building or a business. I think about creating something that can truly change someone’s life. My goal is to help develop better cochlear implants and hearing devices for children. This has been on my heart for a long time, and it is one of the main reasons I decided to study biomedical engineering. I have always been drawn to helping people who are often overlooked or who have to live in a world that is not always accepting of differences. Children with hearing loss face challenges that many people never have to think about. Something as simple as talking with friends, learning in school, or feeling included can become much harder. I want to help make those experiences easier by improving the technology they rely on every day. As technology continues to grow, I believe hearing devices can become smaller, smarter, and more natural. I want to be part of the research and development that helps create devices that improve sound quality, reduce background noise, and make communication feel more natural. My hope is that children can spend less time worrying about their hearing and more time simply being kids. Building this future will also help me grow as a person. It will allow me to combine my love for science, engineering, and helping others into one career. Knowing that something I worked on could help a child hear a parent’s voice more clearly, make a friend at school, or feel more confident would be one of the greatest rewards I could ask for. I also hope my work has a positive impact on my community. Better hearing technology can help children succeed in school, build stronger relationships, and become more independent as they grow. It can also help families by reducing some of the challenges that come with hearing loss. Beyond the technology itself, I want to encourage children with disabilities to know that they are capable, valuable, and deserving of the same opportunities as everyone else. In the future, I want my work to be remembered not because I built a successful product, but because I helped improve lives. If I can make even one child’s future a little brighter, then I will know I built something that truly mattered.

When I first started taking calculus, I honestly wondered when I would ever use it outside of class. Like many students, I spent hours working through derivatives, integrals, and limits without always seeing how they connected to the real world. As I continued my education, I realized that calculus is much more than another math course. It is one of the most important tools in STEM because it helps us understand change, solve complex problems, and design solutions that improve people's lives. Science and engineering are built around understanding how things change over time. Whether someone is studying how medicine moves through the body, how electricity flows through a circuit, or how a bridge responds to different loads, calculus provides the mathematical foundation for those answers. Instead of relying on guesses, engineers and scientists can use calculus to make accurate predictions and create safer, more effective designs. As I prepare to begin my master's degree in Biomedical Engineering, I know calculus will continue to play an important role in my education and future career. Biomedical engineers use calculus to model biological systems, improve medical devices, analyze data, and understand how the human body responds to different treatments and technologies. Since my goal is to help develop better hearing technology, I recognize that calculus will help me understand the signals, sound waves, and engineering principles behind those devices. Every improvement begins with understanding the mathematics that make it possible. Beyond the technical skills, I believe calculus teaches something equally valuable: perseverance. Calculus is not a class where every answer comes easily. There were many times when I had to work through difficult problems, ask questions, and try different approaches before everything finally made sense. Those experiences taught me patience, critical thinking, and the importance of not giving up when a problem seems impossible. Those are skills that extend far beyond mathematics and are essential in every STEM career. I also believe calculus encourages curiosity. Rather than simply memorizing formulas, students learn how to think logically and understand why something works. That mindset prepares future scientists, engineers, and researchers to continue asking questions and searching for better solutions. Innovation happens because people are willing to explore problems that do not yet have easy answers. For me, calculus represents more than numbers written on a page. It represents the ability to solve problems that have the potential to improve lives. As I continue my education in biomedical engineering, I know the concepts I learned in calculus will help me contribute to technologies that make healthcare more effective and accessible. Although the course was challenging, it gave me the confidence to tackle difficult problems, and I believe that confidence will continue to serve me throughout my career in STEM.

As a Black woman pursuing a master's degree in Biomedical Engineering, I understand that this path comes with unique challenges. Throughout my education, I have often been one of the few Black women in technical spaces. There were times when I questioned whether I truly belonged, especially when I didn't see many people who looked like me. Those moments pushed me to work even harder and believe in my own abilities. One of the biggest challenges I faced was when my undergraduate university discontinued the engineering program I had originally planned to complete. I had to change my academic path and earn my bachelor's degree in Computer Science while continuing to work toward my long-term goal of becoming a biomedical engineer. Although it was disappointing, I refused to let that setback define my future. Instead, I graduated in three years and will now begin my master's degree in Biomedical Engineering at the University of North Texas with a minor in Audiology. Another challenge has been learning to trust my own path instead of comparing it to everyone else's. There have been moments when people questioned my goals or didn't understand why I chose a more difficult route. My faith has helped me stay focused, reminding me that my purpose is greater than temporary obstacles or other people's expectations. Every challenge I've faced has strengthened my resilience and determination. My goal is to use my education to develop better hearing technology that improves the lives of children with hearing loss. I hope my journey shows other young Black women that they belong in STEM, that their voices matter, and that no obstacle is too great when you remain committed to your purpose.

Love Island Challenge: The Truth Maze The villa wakes up to find a giant maze built in the backyard. At the entrance is a sign that reads: "The Truth Maze: Find Your Partner...If You Really Know Them." Every islander is paired with the person they are currently coupled up with, but they are separated and must enter the maze from opposite sides. The only way to escape is by making the same decisions at different checkpoints without seeing each other. Inside the maze are five challenge stations. At each station, contestants answer questions about their partner, such as their biggest fear, dream vacation, favorite memory in the villa, or who they trust the least. If both partners give matching answers, a gate opens and they move on. If their answers don't match, they receive a penalty. The penalties are where the real drama begins. Some contestants might have to reveal the last person they secretly found attractive, read a text they sent before entering the villa, or answer a surprise question in front of everyone watching on giant outdoor screens. The audience, as well as the other islanders, gets to watch every answer live. Halfway through the maze, the game changes. Contestants reach a room called "The Temptation Room." Inside are three locked boxes. One contains a romantic advantage, such as a private dinner date with their partner. Another contains nothing at all. The third allows them to steal five minutes alone with any other islander of their choice before leaving the maze. They don't know which box is which until after they choose. Whatever they pick is announced to everyone. Once both partners escape the maze, they face one final decision. Standing on opposite platforms, they must each choose either "Trust" or "Test." If both choose Trust, they win a luxury overnight date outside the villa. If one chooses Test, that person secretly receives a video showing their partner's conversations from earlier in the week before deciding whether to stay loyal. If both choose Test, neither couple wins anything, and instead every islander votes on which couple seemed the least genuine. The challenge ends with a dramatic movie-night style reveal showing every answer, every temptation, and every private decision. Some couples leave feeling closer than ever, while others realize they never really knew each other at all. The Truth Maze isn't about strength or speed—it's about trust, honesty, communication, and whether a relationship can survive when every choice is made under pressure with the whole villa watching.

For me, the awkward thing wasn't my height or the way I talked—it was recovering from spine surgery. For a while, I felt like my body worked differently than everyone else's. I worried that people only saw what I couldn't do instead of what I was still capable of doing. After my spine surgery, I wanted to return to playing volleyball, but almost everyone thought it was a bad idea. Friends, family, and even some of my doctors told me it probably wasn't realistic and that I should consider leaving the sport behind. Hearing that was discouraging, especially because volleyball was something I loved. Instead of giving up, I chose to work through my recovery one step at a time. I spent months rebuilding my strength, following my rehabilitation plan, and proving to myself that I was capable of more than others expected. It wasn't easy, and there were plenty of moments when I questioned myself, but I refused to let one surgery define the rest of my life. Another thing that has always made me stand out is my faith. While many people my age enjoy spending their weekends partying or going places that never felt right to me, I often chose a different path. There were times I turned down invitations or skipped events because they didn't match the kind of person I wanted to be or the values I wanted to live by. Those choices sometimes led to questions, judgment, or feeling like I didn't quite fit in, but I never regretted them. Looking back, I'm thankful for both experiences. Recovering from spine surgery taught me resilience, while my faith taught me to stay true to my values even when it wasn't the popular choice. Together, they shaped who I am today and continue to guide me as I pursue graduate school and work toward developing better hearing technology to improve the lives of others. There were definitely times when I wondered if it would have been easier to just go along with everyone else. It's never fun to be the person who says no or feels like the odd one out. But over time, I realized that staying true to my values gave me something much more important than fitting in—it gave me peace and confidence in who I am. My faith has taught me that success isn't measured only by achievements or money, but also by the way we treat others, serve our communities, and live with integrity. Those lessons continue to influence the decisions I make, both personally and as I work toward a career where I hope to use engineering to improve the lives of others.

My name is Jai Dotson, and I’m a student-athlete at York University in Nebraska, majoring in Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering with a minor in Bible. I grew up in Dallas, Texas, in a family that taught me the value of faith, perseverance, and helping others no matter what life brings. Those lessons became my foundation when my biggest challenge appeared, one that changed how I see both pain and purpose. During my sophomore year of college, I experienced nerve damage and plantar fasciitis in my foot from years of volleyball. Volleyball has always been my outlet, the place where I could push myself, find community, and build confidence. When I could no longer play the way I used to, I felt like I was losing a part of who I was. I tried to stay positive, but the truth was that I was scared, not just of missing games, but of losing direction. Balancing classes, pain, and rehabilitation while watching my teammates compete without me tested me in ways I never expected. At first, I thought my injury had taken away my purpose, but in time, it revealed a new one. I learned that leadership doesn’t always happen on the court, sometimes it’s shown in quiet persistence and how you choose to rise after falling. I began to help my teammates with film study and drills, encouraging them in ways I once needed encouragement myself. I found peace in service, not performance. That change in perspective taught me that purpose isn’t limited to success; it’s built in the struggle to keep showing up. It was during this time that my studies took on new meaning. I’ve always loved problem-solving, building things, and using technology to make life better, but after my injury, I began exploring how engineering could improve healing. I started designing a concept called VolleySync, a wearable device and mobile app that tracks volleyball players’ performance, fatigue, and recovery. What started as a class project became a mission to help others avoid the same pain I faced. It was the first time I felt that my love for STEM could merge with my personal story to create something meaningful. My ultimate goal is to pursue a career in biomedical engineering, specifically developing hearing devices and technologies that improve how people experience sound. Growing up, I saw how hearing challenges can isolate people, especially in church and community spaces that rely on communication. My dream is to create technology that restores connection, devices that allow people to hear not just sound, but life again. I’ve faced more challenges than I expected during my college journey, from physical injuries to financial stress to learning how to keep faith when the future felt uncertain. But every hardship has strengthened my determination. I’ve learned to see setbacks as setups for something greater, and I believe that every pain we face has the potential to become a platform to help others. Education, for me, isn’t just a degree, it’s a doorway. It’s a way to turn challenges into innovation, and pain into purpose. I’m continuing my education because I believe God uses our difficulties to shape our calling, and mine is to use technology to bring comfort, healing, and hope. Receiving the McDaniel Scholarship would not only help me continue my studies, but it would honor the spirit of someone who lived with compassion and purpose. Like Heather, I want to live a life that gives back, to use what I’ve learned through hardship to make the world a little kinder, a little stronger, and a little better for someone else.

There are moments when leadership isn’t about standing in front of people—it’s about standing tall when everything else feels uncertain. For me, that moment came when I was forced to slow down. I’ve been playing volleyball for as long as I can remember. It has always been more than a sport—it’s where I learned about teamwork, trust, and perseverance. During my sophomore season at York University, I suffered nerve damage and plantar fasciitis in my foot. At first, I refused to let it define me. I pushed through pain, taped it up, and told myself it was temporary. But when the pain got worse, I realized I was risking my future. Sitting on the sidelines was one of the hardest experiences of my life. For the first time, I had to lead without playing. As I watched my teammates, I realized leadership wasn’t about being the loudest voice on the court—it was about being the most consistent presence off it. I began helping new players with film review, timing drills, and recovery routines that had helped me manage my own pain. I found ways to connect with my team mentally even when I couldn’t contribute physically. My coaches noticed how I turned frustration into mentorship. That’s when I learned that leadership begins with empathy—seeing other people’s challenges as deeply as your own. That experience also changed how I viewed STEM. As a computer science and mechanical engineering major, I had always loved the logic of systems and the challenge of design, but after my injury, I began to see technology through a new lens: healing. The devices and data that could prevent injury, monitor recovery, or improve quality of life suddenly became personal. I started researching biomedical engineering and sound technology, eventually developing the concept for VolleySync—a wearable device and companion app that helps volleyball players track performance, fatigue, and recovery. The project began as a class assignment, but it quickly became a vision for something more. Designing VolleySync taught me that innovation and leadership share the same foundation: empathy and purpose. I wasn’t just designing an app; I was creating something that could prevent other athletes from experiencing the pain and uncertainty I did. Through coding prototypes, studying biomechanics, and interviewing teammates about their needs, I learned that true STEM innovation starts with listening—listening to users, listening to data, and sometimes listening to the silence that tells you to try again. That silence also made me think about the kind of impact I wanted beyond athletics. I’ve always been fascinated by how technology can restore what people lose—whether that’s movement, sight, or sound. Growing up, I watched members of my church struggle with hearing difficulties that made communication and worship challenging. I didn’t understand it fully then, but now I see how isolating hearing loss can be. My long-term goal is to work in biomedical engineering, developing hearing-assistive devices that bridge gaps between people and the world around them. I want to create solutions that aren’t just functional, but personal—technology that reconnects people to laughter, conversation, and the voices they love. As a young Black student in STEM, I know representation matters. Too often, people who look like me aren’t seen leading labs, founding tech startups, or presenting medical innovations. But every time I mentor younger teammates or classmates, I remind them that their perspective is their power. Our experiences—our resilience—allow us to design differently. We understand what it means to face challenges and find creative ways through them. My injury reminded me of that resilience, and my education gives me the tools to turn it into innovation. I’ve carried that mindset into every part of my life at York University. Between practices, classes, and volunteering at my church and local retirement home, I’ve learned how to manage time, stress, and responsibility. But more importantly, I’ve learned that leadership isn’t something you earn once—it’s something you practice every day through service. Whether I’m helping a teammate through a tough week or tutoring a classmate in coding, I see leadership as the quiet act of making someone else’s path clearer. In the future, I want to combine my background in computer science, mechanical engineering, and athletic experience to build technology that transforms recovery and hearing rehabilitation. I envision developing smart hearing aids that adapt to environmental noise levels, integrate with mobile apps for real-time adjustments, and remain affordable for families in underserved communities. I also hope to mentor other young Black engineers and athletes, helping them see that leadership can grow from struggle, faith, and curiosity. If I’ve learned anything from volleyball, engineering, and life itself, it’s that challenges are not roadblocks—they’re tests of direction. My injury redirected me toward a purpose larger than the game. It made me realize that my true calling is to use technology to give others back what pain or circumstance has taken from them. The Dr. Terran Jordan Scholarship represents everything I want to stand for—resilience, innovation, and the belief that leadership starts with empathy and courage. With this opportunity, I will continue developing as a scholar, engineer, and servant leader who bridges the gap between technology and humanity. I want to lead with the same determination that carried me through pain, and with the same compassion that carried others through theirs. Because leadership isn’t about never falling—it’s about rising in a way that helps others stand taller, too.

Financial barriers stand between many students and their dreams, and I have felt that reality every day of my college journey. My name is Jai, and I am a junior at York University majoring in Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering, with a minor in Bible. As a Black student-athlete in STEM, I’ve worked hard to stay on the Dean’s List while playing volleyball, volunteering in my community, and preparing for a future career where I can make a lasting impact. But the truth is, my path hasn’t been easy. I come from a background where financial support from family is limited, and the costs of tuition, housing, meals, and medical bills often fall heavily on me. There are times when I’ve wondered how I could balance it all—late nights studying after practice, holding back stress about bills while trying to focus in class. Yet through those challenges, I’ve found strength. I’ve learned that perseverance isn’t about pretending life is easy—it’s about showing up every day despite the weight on your shoulders. What keeps me going is my passion for STEM and the possibilities it holds. I want to study biomedical engineering in the future with a focus on advancing hearing devices. Hearing loss affects millions of people, and better technology can completely change someone’s quality of life. The idea that something I help create could give a child the ability to hear their parent’s voice clearly for the first time, or allow an older adult to stay connected to their loved ones, drives me to keep pushing forward even when the road feels long. Service is also a value that grounds me. I volunteer at my church and at a retirement home, where I’ve learned the importance of empathy, patience, and giving my time to others. Being a student-athlete has taught me leadership, resilience, and how to encourage those around me. Whether I’m cheering on a teammate or helping a younger player develop their skills, I want to lift others up the way mentors and role models have lifted me. My degree is not just a personal achievement—it’s a responsibility. By pursuing Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering, I am gaining the foundation I need to transition into biomedical engineering and create solutions that matter. At the same time, I recognize that representation matters. As a Black student in STEM, I hope my journey shows other young Black learners that there is space for them in these fields. I want to be part of building a workforce where diverse perspectives shape innovation, because the best solutions come when everyone has a seat at the table. Receiving this scholarship would ease financial burdens that too often pull my focus away from my education. More importantly, it would allow me to continue pursuing my degree with the confidence that my hard work, service, and vision for the future are seen and supported. With your help, I will continue to turn obstacles into motivation and use my education to uplift others, create lasting impact, and contribute meaningfully to my community and the STEM industry.

My journey has been shaped by resilience, faith, and a determination to turn obstacles into opportunities. As a student-athlete, a woman of color in STEM, and someone who has overcome health challenges, I have learned that success is not defined by the absence of struggle but by the strength and persistence to keep moving forward. These values, resilience, kindness, and self-belief, are the same ones Sloane Stephens honors through this scholarship, and they are at the core of who I am. I am currently pursuing dual majors in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible. Balancing two demanding majors while competing as a collegiate volleyball player has not been easy, but I see it as a privilege to work hard toward my dreams. With a 3.51 GPA and recognition on the Dean’s List twice for earning 4.0 term GPAs, I have proven to myself that determination can overcome doubt. Yet, behind these achievements lies a story of persistence through challenges many cannot see. Health has been one of my greatest challenges. I live with multiple conditions, including heart problems, scoliosis, hypoglycemia, hidradenitis suppurativa, asthma, anemia, and nerve damage, that have tested me both physically and emotionally. There were moments when pain and exhaustion made me question whether I could keep up in athletics or academics. But rather than allowing these challenges to define me, I chose to let them refine me. They taught me discipline, endurance, and compassion for others facing invisible struggles of their own. Financial hardship has also been a part of my journey. Like many students, the cost of higher education is a constant concern, and I have had to work hard to secure scholarships and support to continue pursuing my education. But I see these challenges as fuel for my determination. Every barrier I overcome strengthens my resolve to succeed not just for myself, but for the people I hope to serve in the future. My passion lies in Biomedical Engineering, with a specific goal of designing affordable hearing technology for children who are deaf or hard of hearing. I have studied Deaf culture and am fluent in American Sign Language, which has given me a unique perspective on how technology can bridge communication and open opportunities. Too often, the devices that could change lives are out of reach because of cost. My mission is to ensure no child is left behind because of circumstances beyond their control. Beyond academics and career goals, I strive to embody leadership and service. On my volleyball team, I have learned the importance of discipline, encouragement, and teamwork. In my community, I seek to mentor and inspire others, especially young minority students, to pursue their dreams in STEM. Representation matters, and I hope that by sharing my story, I can encourage others to see that they are capable of rising above obstacles and achieving greatness. What drives me most is the belief that every experience, even the hardest ones, has a purpose. My health struggles taught me resilience. My financial hardships taught me perseverance. My academic and athletic journey taught me discipline and teamwork. All of these lessons come together to shape my vision: to use my education, my voice, and my talents to uplift others and make the world a better place. Receiving this scholarship will ease the financial burden of my education and serve as a reminder that resilience, kindness, and self-belief do make a difference. With the support of the Doc & Glo Scholarship, I will chase my dreams and honor the legacy of Sloane Stephens’ grandparents by uplifting others along the way.

The word “hacker” often brings to mind someone breaking into systems or exploiting security gaps, but that definition overlooks the true essence of hacking. At its core, a hacker is someone who can creatively arrange functions, tools, or code to get a job done in a way others might not have imagined. It is about curiosity, experimentation, and finding unexpected solutions that not only work but often delight those around us. This definition resonates deeply with me, because my journey in engineering and computer science has been shaped by a hacker’s spirit—driven by curiosity, persistence, and a desire to improve the lives of others. One experience that stands out occurred during a summer robotics program where my team’s robot malfunctioned right before a presentation. The robot was supposed to navigate a simple obstacle course, but a faulty sensor caused it to veer off course and collide with walls. With only a short window before our demonstration, I decided to “hack” a quick solution. Instead of scrapping the project, I reconfigured the wiring and rewrote part of the navigation code to bypass the sensor. I then improvised a workaround using the robot’s gyroscope and wheel encoders to estimate direction. It wasn’t the solution the manual suggested, but it worked—the robot completed the course, and the audience applauded when they realized we had turned a near-disaster into a success. That moment taught me that hacking is less about perfection and more about resourcefulness. By tinkering with the hardware and experimenting with new logic, I discovered that unconventional thinking could not only solve the problem but also create excitement and joy for others. My teammates were relieved and inspired, and the judges praised our adaptability. What could have been a failure instead became a lesson in resilience, creativity, and leadership. Since then, I’ve embraced the hacker mindset in other areas of my life. As a Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science major, I often look for ways to repurpose tools or combine disciplines to create something new. For example, in one class project I experimented with using a gaming controller to operate a mechanical arm, showing how consumer technology could be adapted for practical engineering applications. In another project, I built a small-scale program that converted written words into sign language animations, combining my knowledge of ASL with computer science to bridge communication gaps. Each of these projects wasn’t just about building something—it was about finding joy in pushing boundaries and sharing that joy with others. Looking ahead, I want to apply this same hacker spirit to the field of Biomedical Engineering. My goal is to design affordable, accessible hearing technology for children who are deaf or hard of hearing. Having studied Deaf culture and become fluent in American Sign Language, I know the profound difference that technology can make. But I also know the current limitations—devices are too expensive, and too many families go without. By hacking together new ways to leverage software, hardware, and creativity, I believe I can help invent solutions that give more children the chance to fully engage with the world around them. To me, being a hacker means refusing to accept “this can’t be done.” It means approaching challenges with curiosity and resilience, and delighting others with solutions that surprise and inspire. This spirit has guided my academic journey, my projects, and my goals for the future. Just like Kyle Lam, I want to use my passion for tinkering, experimenting, and sharing knowledge to make an impact on my community and the world.

Growing up, I quickly learned that life is not always fair, but it is always an opportunity to grow stronger. As an African American woman pursuing dual majors in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible, I understand firsthand what it means to be underrepresented in my field. Yet, instead of discouraging me, these challenges have fueled my determination to succeed and to create opportunities for others who share my struggles. My journey has been marked by resilience, faith, and perseverance, qualities I believe reflect the spirit of Anthony Belliamy’s legacy. One of the greatest challenges I have faced has been my health. Living with heart problems, scoliosis, asthma, nerve damage, hidradenitis suppurativa (HS), and anemia has often left me physically drained and, at times, fearful about my future. There were seasons when constant doctor visits, treatments, and flare-ups felt overwhelming, and I questioned whether I could balance school, athletics, and my own well-being. Yet through faith, discipline, and resilience, I refused to allow these conditions to define me. I learned to listen to my body, push through pain when necessary, and find strength in moments of weakness. These experiences taught me endurance in a way that textbooks never could. Financial hardship has been another defining challenge. The weight of college expenses has often felt daunting, with moments when I wondered if I could continue pursuing my education. But just as with my health, I refused to give up. I leaned on faith, sought scholarships, and worked hard to keep my academic performance strong. I currently maintain a 3.51 GPA, have achieved Dean’s List recognition twice with 4.0 term GPAs, and continue to thrive as a student-athlete on my university’s volleyball team. Each milestone reminds me that perseverance is not about avoiding obstacles but about rising above them. Facing these challenges has also shaped my vision for the future. Experiencing adversity firsthand has made me deeply empathetic toward others who face barriers, whether physical, financial, or social. My goal is to pursue Biomedical Engineering after graduation, with a specific focus on designing advanced hearing technology for children who are deaf or hard of hearing. I have studied Deaf culture, become fluent in American Sign Language, and witnessed how hearing devices can transform lives. Yet I also recognize that many families cannot afford the technology their children need. My mission is to design devices that are more affordable and accessible, ensuring that no child is left behind simply because of cost or circumstance. Beyond academics, I strive to embody leadership and service in every role I take on. Whether volunteering in the community, mentoring peers, or serving as a role model on my volleyball team, I believe leadership is about integrity and influence rather than titles. I want to inspire others—especially young minority students—to believe in their dreams, even when obstacles seem insurmountable. The obstacles I have faced—health battles, financial strain, and underrepresentation in STEM—have not broken me. Instead, they have forged resilience, empathy, and strength. These experiences have prepared me not only for the rigor of my academic journey but also for the impact I intend to make in the world. I know that my path will not be easy, but I welcome the challenges ahead because they will only sharpen the skills I need to fulfill my purpose. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of my education but also affirm that my perseverance has meaning beyond myself. It would empower me to carry forward Anthony Belliamy’s legacy of faith, resilience, and leadership by dedicating my education and career to lifting others—through inclusive technology, mentorship, and unwavering service.

I never expected to major in Computer Science. My early passions were volleyball and helping others, especially children. But as I faced health challenges like scoliosis, asthma, and heart issues, I became more curious about how technology could be used to solve real problems. That curiosity, combined with my interest in biomedical engineering, led me to Computer Science. I realized coding and technology are powerful tools to create systems that heal, connect, and include. My passion became clearer when I started learning about hearing devices for deaf children. I became fluent in American Sign Language and studied Deaf culture to better understand the community I hope to serve. That’s when I saw how software and hardware together could make a massive difference in someone’s life. I didn’t just want to know how the machines worked—I wanted to help design smarter, more inclusive technology. That’s why I chose to double major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science at York University. My dream is to work in biomedical engineering, designing assistive hearing technology like cochlear implants and improving software that helps children communicate. I want to combine technical skills with compassion to make devices that are more effective and more human-centered. Eventually, I hope to start my own company focused on building accessible technology for underserved communities. I believe I am a strong candidate for this scholarship not only because of my academic and career goals, but because of the resilience I’ve shown. I’ve faced serious health and financial challenges. I lost my God-Father, who supported my volleyball journey, during my junior year of high school, right as I was choosing a college. But I’ve continued to persevere—earning a 3.5 GPA, two 4.0 terms, and volunteering at my church and a local hospice center. This scholarship would relieve financial stress and allow me to focus on research, service, and my education. I’m not just pursuing a degree—I’m preparing to make a lasting difference in the lives of others through technology, faith, and love.

I’ve faced a lot of obstacles in my life, but I believe every single one of them has helped shape me into the strong, determined, and faith-filled woman I am today. I’m a student-athlete at York University in Nebraska, majoring in both Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible. I’m also a proud African American woman pursuing STEM—a field where people who look like me are still underrepresented. My story is not just about what I’ve overcome, but what I’m building toward. My passion for STEM is deeply rooted in who I am, what I’ve experienced, and the people I hope to serve one day. I grew up in a Christian household, and while faith was always around me, I truly began walking with Christ in middle school. Around that same time, I realized that I wanted to play volleyball and work with children. But soon after, my life took a turn I didn’t see coming. I was diagnosed with scoliosis, asthma, HS (a chronic skin condition), and heart issues—all before I even reached high school. I was told I wouldn’t be able to live a normal life, and definitely not an athletic one. Volleyball, I was told, would have to go. But God gave me dreams—literal ones—of me playing volleyball with older girls and succeeding. I believe He placed that passion in me for a reason, and I made the decision to keep playing, even when it seemed impossible. My parents didn’t fully support my decision because of the medical risks, but my God-Father did. He paid for my club volleyball and mentored me until he passed away during my junior year of high school due to COVID. Losing him was one of the hardest moments of my life. I was already dealing with grief, the pressure of finding a college, and feeling financially stretched beyond my limits. But God kept showing up. When I visited York University, the first thing I saw was “Kilgore Memorial Library”—the same name as the town where my God-Father was buried. That was the confirmation I needed. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Financially, things haven’t been easy. Paying for college has been a constant source of stress. Even though I received some academic and athletic scholarships, they don’t cover everything. I’ve had to work, budget carefully, and lean into my faith that somehow God would continue to make a way. There have been semesters where I wasn’t sure how I’d pay for books or fees, but I’ve never given up. I’ve worked hard in the classroom, staying on the Dean’s List with two 4.0 term GPAs, and I’ve used every opportunity as a reminder that I belong in this field, and that I can do hard things. My passion for STEM grew stronger when I began learning about biomedical engineering. I became especially interested in hearing devices and how technology could be used to serve the Deaf community. I studied Deaf culture and became fluent in ASL because I wanted to understand this community—not just from a technical level, but personally. I realized how often people with disabilities are left behind when it comes to inclusive design. I want to be the kind of engineer who listens, who advocates, and who creates with compassion. I want to build technology that isn’t just smart—but meaningful. My goal is to use my degrees to enter the field of biomedical engineering and work specifically on improving hearing technology for children. I want every child to have access to tools that help them feel connected and confident. I know what it’s like to be told what you “can’t” do. I want to give children the freedom to dream, to communicate, and to thrive. As a woman of color in STEM, I understand how powerful representation can be. I hope to not only design technology that helps people, but to mentor and inspire the next generation of young women and minority students who might not think there’s a place for them in science and engineering. There absolutely is. I also plan to continue serving in my community through church outreach and volunteering at hospice centers—something I’ve been doing since high school. Giving back is a part of who I am. Whether it’s sitting with someone in their final moments or encouraging a teammate before a game, I lead with love and compassion. I believe that’s the kind of impact this world needs—not just more engineers, but more people who care deeply. This scholarship would be a blessing. It would allow me to focus more on learning, creating, and serving—without the constant financial weight pressing on my shoulders. It would bring me one step closer to my dream of building a life that makes space for others and honors the journey I’ve taken to get here.

Growing up as a student-athlete and a curious learner, I’ve always been fascinated by the human body—not just how it moves and performs, but how it heals, adapts, and survives. My passion for medicine stems from both personal and academic experiences: navigating injuries as a volleyball player, volunteering in community health settings, and studying science with a deep desire to understand and improve lives. I’ve come to believe that medicine is not just a career—it’s a calling rooted in service, compassion, and discovery. As a college student majoring in computer science and mechanical engineering, I’ve developed a strong foundation in problem-solving and innovation. These fields have equipped me with technical skills and a creative mindset that I intend to carry into my medical journey. I am particularly interested in biomedical engineering and the development of assistive medical technologies—especially hearing devices. As someone who has witnessed the isolating effects of hearing loss in close family members, I am driven to improve the way patients connect with their world. My dream is to contribute to the design and accessibility of hearing aids and cochlear implants that not only restore sound but also enhance quality of life in ways that feel personalized and empowering. My involvement in community service—at church, retirement homes, and health awareness events—has shaped my belief that health care is most powerful when it is personal and inclusive. I’ve seen how access, trust, and communication can mean the difference between suffering in silence and living with dignity. These experiences have inspired me to not only pursue medicine as a science but also as a means of advocacy. I want to become a physician who listens deeply, builds bridges across cultures and communities, and empowers patients with the knowledge and tools to take charge of their health. In the future, I see myself working at the intersection of clinical care and innovation. Whether it’s through research on implantable medical devices, collaborating with engineers to prototype smarter diagnostic tools, or leading initiatives in underserved communities, I hope to be a physician who doesn’t just treat illness—but who reimagines what care can look like. Medicine, to me, is about more than curing disease. It’s about restoring hope, dignity, and connection. It’s about showing up for people in their most vulnerable moments and using every skill—from scientific knowledge to emotional empathy—to walk with them toward healing. As I move forward, I am committed to using my education, experiences, and heart for service to make a lasting, positive impact—one patient, one idea, and one breakthrough at a time.

As a young girl, I was always curious about how things worked—why the sky was blue, how machines moved, and what made computers so powerful. That curiosity evolved into a passion for problem-solving, and today, it fuels my pursuit of dual degrees in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science at York University, along with a minor in Bible. I’ve always been fascinated by the intersection of people and technology, and I’m especially driven by the belief that STEM can be used to improve lives in deeply meaningful ways. My decision to pursue STEM was shaped not only by my love for science and innovation but also by the realization that I am part of a very small percentage: Black women make up less than 3% of the engineering workforce in the United States. Being both a woman and a person of color in these fields comes with challenges—feeling overlooked, underestimated, or isolated. But those very challenges have helped me find strength, build resilience, and develop a clear vision of the impact I want to make. Through studying Deaf culture and becoming fluent in American Sign Language, I became deeply invested in the Deaf and hard-of-hearing community. I was moved by the barriers many children face when trying to communicate with the world around them. This is what inspires me to pursue Biomedical Engineering after graduation: I want to design more inclusive, intuitive hearing technologies that don’t just restore sound, but enhance connection and dignity. I don’t see engineering as just solving technical problems—I see it as solving human problems. Being a collegiate volleyball player while maintaining a 3.51 GPA and earning 4.0 GPAs in multiple terms has taught me the value of discipline, leadership, and perseverance. On and off the court, I’ve led by example—mentoring younger students, encouraging other women in STEM, and advocating for inclusive learning spaces. I believe that leadership means using your influence to open doors for others, especially those who might not yet see themselves reflected in these spaces. This scholarship’s mission—to empower women who are curious, knowledgeable, and committed to making a difference—resonates deeply with me. My curiosity is what started my journey into STEM, and knowledge is what fuels my progress. But it’s my commitment to impact that grounds everything I do. I want to leave a legacy not just of technical achievement, but of compassion, equity, and access. One day, I hope to start a nonprofit that connects young girls—especially those from underrepresented communities—with mentorship and opportunities in STEM fields. Representation matters, and I want them to see what’s possible. Women in STEM are still breaking barriers every day. We are redefining what engineers, coders, and innovators look like. I’m proud to be part of that movement—not just as a participant, but as a changemaker. My voice, my background, and my experiences all bring value to the STEM field, and I plan to use them to uplift others and drive meaningful change. Empowered by education, driven by purpose, and committed to impact, I am ready to contribute to a future where STEM is not just a field of study—but a force for inclusion, healing, and hope.

To me, going to college is more than just earning a degree—it’s a gateway to opportunity, growth, and purpose. As a first-generation college student and a double minority in STEM, attending college represents breaking barriers and defying expectations. It means becoming a leader not only in the classroom, but in my community and in my future profession. I see college as the place where I grow into the person God is calling me to be—someone equipped to serve others, think critically, and make a meaningful impact in the world. Currently, I’m pursuing a double major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible at York University. This path isn’t easy, but I chose it intentionally. I wanted to challenge myself, to learn how things work from both a physical and digital perspective, and to combine that knowledge in ways that can benefit people directly. My academic goal is to pursue a graduate degree in Biomedical Engineering so that I can help improve hearing devices for children in the Deaf community—especially those who, like me, come from underrepresented backgrounds. I’ve spent years learning American Sign Language and studying Deaf culture because I believe that understanding people is just as important as building for them. As a student-athlete on the collegiate volleyball team, I’ve learned how to balance a demanding schedule, stay disciplined, and work within a team. These are not just athletic lessons; they are life lessons. Volleyball has taught me about perseverance, communication, and leadership—all skills that translate directly into my studies and future career. It has also given me a support system of teammates and coaches who push me to be my best self every day. Being a Black woman in a male-dominated field, I know that the odds are stacked against people like me. But that doesn’t discourage me—it motivates me. I want to be a visible example to younger girls, especially those from minority backgrounds, that they belong in STEM. I want them to see that it’s possible to be smart, athletic, faithful, and compassionate all at once. Representation matters, and I carry that responsibility with pride. In the long term, I want to design accessible, affordable, and culturally responsive hearing technologies. I want to work closely with children and families in the Deaf community to make sure the tools I help create actually meet their needs. My goal is not just to innovate, but to connect. I believe that technology should bring people together, not leave some behind. College is my training ground. It’s where I’m building the academic foundation, practical skills, and character I’ll need to lead in the field of biomedical innovation. It’s where I’ve learned to advocate for others, to seek out mentorship, and to stay rooted in my values while aiming high. I’m not just preparing for a job—I’m preparing for a mission. Going to college means choosing purpose over comfort. It means working hard not only for my future, but for the futures of those I hope to serve. I am here to learn, to grow, and most importantly, to give back.

One technology that truly inspires me is the cochlear implant. This device has completely changed the lives of many deaf and hard-of-hearing people by allowing them to perceive sound in a way that was once impossible. Growing up, I became passionate about helping deaf children and improving hearing devices, which led me to study Deaf culture and learn American Sign Language. The cochlear implant represents the powerful ways technology can break down barriers and bring people closer together. What inspires me most about cochlear implants is how they combine advanced engineering, medicine, and personal hope. It’s a device that takes sound from the environment, converts it into electrical signals, and directly stimulates the auditory nerve. This incredible feat of biomedical engineering gives recipients the ability to experience sounds, communicate more easily, and connect with their families and communities in ways that were previously out of reach. This technology shows how engineering and science can be used not just to create new gadgets, but to improve the quality of life for people facing challenges. It reminds me why I chose to pursue a degree in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science, and why I want to specialize in biomedical engineering. I want to contribute to innovations that help people overcome disabilities and live fuller, more connected lives. The cochlear implant also teaches me about the importance of empathy in technology. It’s not just about the device itself but understanding the needs of the people who use it. My fluency in American Sign Language and my study of Deaf culture give me insight into those needs. I want to continue learning how to design technology that respects and uplifts diverse communities. In a world where technology often feels overwhelming or impersonal, cochlear implants inspire me by showing how it can be deeply personal and life-changing. I believe that technology, when paired with compassion and faith, has the power to make the world a better place—one life at a time.

Volunteering has always been an important part of my life because I believe that true leadership and success come from serving others. I currently volunteer at my home church, One Community Church in Plano, Texas, where I help organize community outreach events and support ministries that assist families in need. I also volunteer at a hospice care center, where I provide companionship and comfort to patients and their families during some of their most difficult moments. These experiences have deeply shaped how I see the world and how I want to contribute to it. My faith plays a central role in motivating me to give back. As a believer, I am called to love my neighbor and show compassion, just as Jesus taught. Serving at my church allows me to live out that calling in practical ways—whether it’s helping organize food drives, mentoring younger members, or simply listening to someone who needs encouragement. At the hospice care center, I witness the power of presence and kindness. Sometimes, just sitting with someone, holding their hand, or sharing a smile can bring peace to a hurting soul. These moments remind me that impact isn’t always about big actions; it’s about consistent love and attention to the needs around us. I am passionate about making a positive impact not only through volunteering but also through my future career. As a dual major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible, I plan to pursue biomedical engineering with a focus on improving hearing devices for deaf children. My goal is to develop technology that helps children communicate better and feel included, breaking down barriers caused by disability. I have studied Deaf culture and become fluent in American Sign Language because I want to truly understand and connect with the community I hope to serve. The combination of my faith, volunteering, and education drives me to be a servant leader—someone who leads with humility, empathy, and a heart for others. I believe that every person deserves dignity and opportunity, and I want to dedicate my life to creating those opportunities for those who might otherwise be overlooked. Volunteering has shown me how powerful small acts of kindness can be, and I plan to carry that mindset into my professional work by designing technology that improves lives in meaningful ways. Receiving the Our Destiny Our Future Scholarship would be a huge blessing in supporting me as I continue my education and service. It would allow me to focus more on my studies, my volunteer work, and gaining the skills I need to make a real difference in the biomedical field. I want to honor the memory of the generous person this scholarship celebrates by living a life that embodies compassion, selflessness, and commitment to community. Ultimately, my hope is to impact the world by combining faith-driven service and innovative technology. I want to be a source of hope, healing, and encouragement in every area of my life. Whether through volunteering in my local community or developing life-changing devices, I believe that with God’s guidance, I can help build a more loving and inclusive world.

I am a collegiate volleyball player at York University in Nebraska, working hard toward a dual major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science, along with a minor in Bible. As an African American woman, I am proud to be a double minority in the STEM fields, which fuels my passion to break barriers and create opportunities not just for myself, but for others who look like me. I have been honored to make the Dean’s List twice with 4.0 term GPAs, and I approach my studies and athletics with determination and a deep sense of purpose. My interest in STEM started with curiosity about how things work, but it became much more personal as I learned about biomedical engineering. My goal is to design better hearing devices for deaf children—technology that not only improves their ability to hear but also helps them feel included and empowered. I have studied Deaf culture and become fluent in American Sign Language because I want to understand and connect with the people I hope to serve on a deeper level. I believe that technology should be accessible and meaningful to everyone, regardless of their background or ability. Throughout my life, I have faced challenges that have shaped my character and strengthened my resolve. Growing up with scoliosis, asthma, HS, and heart problems, I was told by doctors that volleyball—and even living a full life—might not be possible. But I refused to give up on my dreams. My faith in God and the support of my family and community helped me push past these obstacles. My God-Father, who believed in me and supported my volleyball journey financially, passed away during my junior year of high school. His death was a huge loss, but I saw God’s hand in guiding me to York University, where I received scholarships and found a supportive community that felt like home. My experiences with adversity have taught me valuable lessons in perseverance, leadership, and empathy. As a leader on my volleyball team, I have learned how to encourage teammates through prayer, example, and uplifting words. I take pride in mentoring younger players and students, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds who may doubt their place in STEM or athletics. I want them to see someone who understands their struggles and believes in their potential. Beyond my team, I plan to make a positive impact by volunteering in community outreach programs that introduce STEM to children in underserved neighborhoods. I want to help create environments where students can explore science, technology, engineering, and math without fear or hesitation. Representation matters, and I hope to be a example that success in STEM is possible for girls and minorities. My faith plays a central role in how I approach my studies, leadership, and future career. Proverbs 3:5-6 reminds me to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” I lean on this verse when challenges arise, knowing that God’s guidance is the foundation of my strength. I hope to combine my technical skills, faith, and passion for service to develop innovative biomedical devices that make a real difference in people’s lives. I want to break down barriers in STEM, open doors for others, and inspire the next generation of diverse leaders. With education, faith, and determination, I believe I can help build a community where everyone has the chance to thrive. Receiving this scholarship would significantly ease my financial burden, allowing me to focus more fully on my studies, research, and community involvement.

There have been many moments in my life when I faced obstacles that could have made me give up. But giving up has never been an option for me. One of the biggest challenges I faced was being diagnosed with multiple serious health issues—scoliosis, asthma, HS, and heart problems—at a young age. Doctors told me I might not live a normal life and that playing volleyball, a sport I loved, was probably out of reach. Hearing that was hard. It felt like my dreams were being taken away. But my faith and my determination pushed me to keep going. I believe God placed a strong desire in my heart to keep playing volleyball, and I had vivid dreams of myself on the court with older players. Despite my parents’ worries and the doubts of doctors, I pursued volleyball with everything I had. My God-Father, who was one of my biggest supporters, helped fund my volleyball journey. When he passed away during my junior year of high school from COVID-19, I was devastated. I lost not only a supporter but a mentor and a friend. But even in grief, I found strength in my faith and my leadership on and off the court. Instead of letting those hardships defeat me, I used them to inspire others. On my volleyball team, I began leading through example—whether that meant encouraging teammates before games, praying with them, or simply being someone they could lean on during tough times. I led pre-game prayers and wrote notes of encouragement to my teammates. One younger player told me my faith and leadership gave her hope and helped her believe she had a purpose. That moment showed me that leadership isn’t about being perfect or having all the answers—it’s about showing up, being vulnerable, and pointing others toward hope. At York University, I continue to lead as a student-athlete balancing a dual major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science. I mentor younger teammates and classmates who struggle academically or personally, encouraging them to trust in their abilities and persevere. I don’t claim to have all the answers, but my faith teaches me to trust God’s plan and lead with compassion and humility. Proverbs 3:5-6 reminds me to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Overcoming these obstacles has shaped the kind of leader I am today—someone who listens, encourages, and leads by example. I’ve learned that true leadership means lifting others up, especially when life is hard. It’s about serving, praying, and being a light in dark times. I believe my journey shows that with faith, perseverance, and heart, challenges can become stepping stones, not roadblocks. I am proud to be a leader who doesn’t give up and who inspires others to believe in themselves even when it feels impossible.

My interest in engineering and technology began with a desire to understand how things work, but it grew deeper when I realized how I could use that knowledge to help others—especially children with disabilities. I’m currently a dual major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible at York University in Nebraska. My long-term goal is to enter the field of Biomedical Engineering, where I hope to create and improve hearing devices for deaf children. After studying Deaf culture and becoming fluent in American Sign Language (ASL), I realized how much the world still lacks inclusive technology. That’s where I want to make an impact—bridging the gap between science and compassion, and designing tools that give children access to sound, communication, and confidence. As a Black woman in STEM, I carry a vision that’s deeply personal. I don’t just want to be in the room—I want to help open the door for others. I know the power of representation. Seeing someone who looks like you in a leadership or engineering role can completely change how you see your future. I want to be that example, especially for young girls of color who are told directly or indirectly that they don’t belong in these fields. I want them to know they do. My journey to this point hasn’t been easy. I’ve faced a number of serious health challenges. I was diagnosed with scoliosis, HS (a painful skin condition), asthma, and heart problems at a young age. Doctors told me my future would be limited and that volleyball—a sport I had fallen in love with—wouldn’t be possible. But through faith, resilience, and a lot of prayer, I kept going. I believed that if God gave me a dream, He’d give me the strength to walk it out, no matter how hard it looked. Philippians 4:13 (NIV) says, “I can do all this through him who gives me strength,” and I live by that daily. I continued to pursue volleyball and was eventually awarded a scholarship to play in college. It wasn’t easy. My parents didn’t support the decision at first due to the medical risks, but my God-Father believed in me and helped fund my early volleyball journey. When he passed away from COVID my junior year of high school, it felt like the ground beneath me was shaking. But God showed up again in a very personal way. When I visited York University, the first thing I saw was the “Kilgore Memorial Library”—the same name as the town where my God-Father was buried. That was the sign I needed. I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. All of these experiences—my health, my losses, my faith, and my dreams—have shaped my passion for engineering. I don’t just want to build devices. I want to build bridges: between people and opportunity, between silence and sound, between fear and hope. I’ve already faced the impossible and come out stronger. Now I’m committed to using what I’ve learned to impact lives—through engineering, faith, and love. I believe I’m called not just to succeed in this field, but to lead with purpose and make space for others to do the same.

At first glance, calculus might just seem like a bunch of confusing equations and strange symbols. But when I started to understand what it really was, I realized it’s actually the language behind movement, change, and how things in our world work. That’s why calculus is so important in the STEM field—because so much of science, technology, engineering, and math is about understanding and predicting how things change over time. Whether it’s a rocket launching into space, a computer processing data, or a hearing device responding to sound waves—calculus is behind it. As a double major in Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science, I’ve seen firsthand how calculus shows up in ways that matter. In engineering, calculus is how we model the real world. It helps us understand the forces acting on an object, how fluids move, or how systems respond to pressure, weight, or speed. It allows us to design safer buildings, more efficient machines, and smarter technology. In computer science, calculus plays a big role in algorithms, artificial intelligence, and data science. These areas are shaping the future—and calculus is at the core of them. One of the reasons I’ve come to value calculus so much is because I know I want to go into biomedical engineering, specifically to help improve hearing devices for deaf children. These devices don’t just sit in the ear and make things louder. They have to respond to frequencies, filter out background noise, and adjust to changing environments—all things that involve math, especially calculus. Without understanding how things change over time—like sound waves, motion, or energy transfer—it would be impossible to create the kind of life-changing technology I want to be part of. Calculus teaches us more than just math—it teaches us how to think. It forces us to slow down, pay attention to detail, and approach problems from different angles. It has taught me perseverance, because let’s be honest—calculus isn’t always easy. But neither is the real world, especially in STEM fields. Learning to stick with hard concepts and push through those moments when it feels like nothing makes sense has helped me not just in class, but in life. It reminds me of James 1:4 (NIV), which says, “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” As a woman of color in STEM, I know the road isn’t always smooth. But I believe every challenge, including calculus, is shaping me to become the kind of engineer and leader I’m meant to be. I don’t just want to use calculus to pass a test or finish a class—I want to use it to solve real problems and help real people. I believe God gave us minds that are capable of understanding even the most complex things, and I want to honor that by using my education to serve others. So yes, calculus matters. It’s important because it gives us the tools to describe, predict, and create. And as someone who wants to leave a mark in the biomedical field, especially for underserved communities, I know calculus will be part of the foundation I’m building on. With each equation, I’m not just learning math—I’m preparing to change lives.

Pursuing a degree in STEM has never just been about loving science or math—it’s always been about purpose. Growing up, I was that kid who loved solving puzzles, building things, and asking big questions. I’ve always been naturally curious, but it wasn’t until middle school that I really understood how that curiosity could lead to a career. Around that same time, I was diagnosed with several health issues—scoliosis, asthma, HS, and heart problems. Doctors told me my life would be limited, and volleyball probably wasn’t an option. But I kept dreaming, and through God’s strength and grace, I pushed forward. That was also when I started thinking about how I could help people like me—kids facing medical challenges who needed not just care, but hope. As I got older, my focus shifted toward engineering. I’m now majoring in both Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science, with a minor in Bible, at York University in Nebraska. I’ve also studied Deaf culture and become fluent in American Sign Language. My long-term goal is to enter the field of Biomedical Engineering, where I want to design better hearing devices for deaf children and make assistive technology more inclusive and accessible. I believe science and faith can work hand-in-hand to improve lives—and I want to be someone who brings both innovation and compassion into the STEM world. Being a person of color in STEM means walking into spaces where I’m often one of the only Black women in the room. It’s not always easy, but it’s powerful. It reminds me why representation matters. There are kids growing up right now who don’t think they belong in labs or tech companies or research centers because they’ve never seen anyone who looks like them in those spaces. I want to change that. I want to show young Black girls—and especially those who come from underrepresented communities—that we belong here too. My impact won’t just be through the devices I build or the research I do. I want to mentor, teach, and encourage others to follow their calling, even when the path is hard. I want to use my own journey—being told “you can’t,” facing grief and health setbacks, and still finding success—to inspire others to say, “Yes, I can.” One of my favorite verses that helps guide me is Romans 8:28 (NIV): “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” I believe I’ve been called for this. Being a double minority in STEM isn’t just a challenge—it’s an opportunity. I bring a unique voice, a different set of experiences, and a perspective that’s often overlooked in science and engineering. That perspective matters when designing technology for diverse users and solving real-world problems that affect underserved communities. My hope is to leave a legacy—not just through what I build, but through the people I lift up along the way. I believe God gave me my mind, my voice, and my testimony for a reason. Through STEM, I can make a difference that goes beyond a classroom or a lab. I can help people feel seen, heard, and empowered—just like I’ve been empowered by those who believed in me.

Faith has always been the foundation of who I am and how I lead. I don’t see leadership as a position or title—it’s about serving others, listening, encouraging, and helping them see the potential inside of them even when they can’t see it themselves. My faith reminds me that leadership is not about being the loudest voice in the room, but the most faithful one. I believe that when God places you in a position to lead, He equips you with everything you need to do it, even if it doesn’t always look like what the world expects. As Philippians 4:13 (NIV) says, “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” One of the biggest ways I’ve led through faith was during my junior and senior years of high school, especially right after I lost my God-Father to COVID. He was one of the few people who believed in my dream to keep playing volleyball when doctors and even my family had doubts. His death hit me hard—it was right when I was trying to figure out college, scholarships, and what direction I was going in life. I was heartbroken and confused, but I kept hearing God’s voice telling me to keep pushing forward. Even through the grief, I stepped up and started encouraging other girls on my volleyball team who were dealing with their own struggles—some had family issues, some didn’t believe they were good enough to go to college. I started leading pre-game prayers, writing notes of encouragement, and making it my mission to make sure every girl knew she was loved, seen, and capable. I didn’t do it because I wanted recognition—I did it because God called me to lead with love and to be a light during a dark time. Like Matthew 5:16 (NIV) says, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” One day, a younger teammate came up to me and told me that watching me pray and speak life over the team made her feel like she had a purpose. She said that for the first time, she believed that God had a plan for her too. That moment changed me. I realized that leadership rooted in faith isn’t about being perfect—it’s about showing up, being real, and pointing people back to hope. Now as a collegiate student-athlete, I continue to carry that same style of leadership. Whether it’s helping a teammate through a tough game or encouraging classmates who feel overwhelmed in hard engineering classes, I try to lead by example. I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does. Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV) reminds me, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” This experience shaped my vision for the future. I want to be more than just an engineer. I want to be a mentor, a leader, and an advocate for children who feel unheard—especially those who are deaf or have disabilities. My faith teaches me that everyone has value, and I want my work to reflect that. I believe God is using my experiences, struggles, and passions to prepare me to lead in the medical and tech world—not just with knowledge, but with heart.

Growing up, I always knew I wanted to help people. I didn’t know exactly how, but I knew I wanted to make a difference—especially in the lives of children. I’ve always been intelligent and athletic, always chasing after big dreams, even when people told me they weren’t possible. In middle school, I started to take my walk with Christ more seriously, and that’s also when I started to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. At first, I thought it would just be playing volleyball and working with kids. But God had a bigger plan. Around that same time, I started facing major health challenges—scoliosis, asthma, HS, and heart problems. I was told that sports weren’t going to be an option for me, and that I wouldn’t live the kind of life I dreamed of. But God showed me through dreams and experiences that I was meant to keep pushing. Through faith and support from loved ones like my God-Father, I kept playing volleyball. I ended up getting a scholarship to a small Christian college in Nebraska where I’m now studying Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science with a minor in Bible. I’ve also made the Dean’s List twice with 4.0 semesters and have a 3.51 GPA overall. Over the years, my passion became clearer: I want to study Biomedical Engineering after undergrad so I can help children who are deaf and improve the technology that supports their lives. I became fluent in American Sign Language and studied Deaf culture to better understand the community I want to serve. I believe that God placed this on my heart for a reason, and I want to combine my faith, education, and passion to create better hearing devices and advocate for deaf children in both the medical and engineering fields. Being an African American woman in STEM makes me a double minority, and that’s not always easy. There are times where I walk into a classroom or a meeting and don’t see anyone who looks like me. But instead of letting that discourage me, I use it as fuel. I want to show young girls—especially girls of color—that they can do this too. My long-term goal is to work in biomedical research or device design and one day open my own lab or nonprofit focused on accessible hearing solutions for underserved communities. In the short term, I want to finish my degrees strong, get into a great graduate program, and continue learning and growing in my field. This scholarship would take a huge burden off my shoulders financially. Balancing sports, school, and work is tough, especially as someone putting myself through college. Every bit of support helps me focus more on my studies and future goals. I believe God has brought me this far for a reason, and I’m excited to see where He takes me next.

I wish it were easy enough to say people find Christ simply through their parents or just by growing up in a Christian household. But as a girl who was raised in one, I’ve learned it’s not always that simple. Growing up, I may have wanted to know Christ, but it wasn’t until middle school that I truly found Him and began walking with Him. My journey with Christ didn’t start because of tradition—it started because of experience, trials, and the overwhelming presence of grace in moments where I thought I had none left. I have always been a very athletic and intelligent girl. I’ve always loved challenges, competition, and the feeling of victory after hard work. Around middle school, I realized what I wanted to do with my life: I wanted to play volleyball and help children. It was a dream that gave me purpose and excitement for the future. But not long after I made that decision, my life began to change in unexpected ways. My family found out that I had major scoliosis. I had already been diagnosed with asthma, and soon after, I would be diagnosed with hidradenitis suppurativa (HS), a painful chronic skin condition. As if that wasn't enough, I began to develop heart problems. Doctors told me I probably wouldn't live a very active life and that volleyball wasn't an option for me. As a young girl, hearing that my dreams were impossible was absolutely heartbreaking. But it was also the moment when my generous Father above made it clear that He was with me. This was more than a setback—it was the beginning of something bigger, something divine. I’m a “dreamer.” Not just in the way that most kids dream about being something when they grow up, but in a more spiritual and vivid way. Throughout high school, I had dreams—real, vivid ones—of playing volleyball. In these dreams, I was surrounded by girls much older than me, and we were always playing together. I took that as a sign, a gentle nudge from the Lord telling me not to give up. So I didn’t. Despite the pain, the doctors’ warnings, and the concern from my parents, I continued to pursue volleyball. My parents didn’t like the idea of me continuing to play, especially with all the medical advice we were getting. But someone else believed in me—my Godfather. He believed in me in a way that reflected God’s unconditional love and support. He funded a majority of my volleyball experience and was one of the closest people in my life. Unfortunately, COVID took him from us during my junior year of high school. His death came at a time when I was trying to figure out my future—what college I’d attend, how I’d make everything work. He was buried in Kilgore, Texas. At the time, I didn’t know how deeply that would tie into what came next. Many people might think that details like that aren’t important, but I’ve learned that God presents signs to us—clear, meaningful ones—as long as we are willing to look and listen. During my college search, I found a small Christian school in Nebraska. It wasn’t flashy or well-known, and I absolutely could have stayed in Dallas to attend a school that was more well-known and “pretty.” But for some reason, this one school stood out to me. When my family and I visited to see if this school could be the one, the first building I saw driving into town was the library. The name? "Kilgore Memorial Library." It was like God reached out and whispered, “This is where you belong.” That moment confirmed everything for me. Soon after, I was offered both a volleyball scholarship and multiple academic scholarships. It felt like everything had come full circle—not by accident, but by divine design. When I finally arrived at college and began preseason training with the volleyball team, we did a team bonding activity. Each of us had to write down one word that described what we brought to the team. I struggled to come up with mine, unsure of what to write. An older senior looked at me and simply said, “Write ‘strong.’” I hesitated because I thought it made more sense to write “strength,” but she corrected me. “Not strength,” she repeated. “Strong.” Without even knowing, she told me not once but twice to write down my Godfather’s last name—Strong. It was another gentle reminder that he was still with me, that God was still with me. Then came move-in day. I had been assigned to a new dorm room—Room 215. That’s my birthday: February 15. Some might say it was a coincidence, but I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in God’s plan. That number, that room, was another small way of God telling me I was right where I needed to be. Once I got settled into my new college life, I decided to explore the surrounding area—neighboring towns, places to eat, things to do. I found out there was a small town nearby named Waco. My Godfather attended Baylor University in Waco, Texas. Another piece of the puzzle. I don’t think all of these connections are just chance. I believe they were God’s way of showing me that I am seen, loved, and exactly where I’m supposed to be. Maybe if I hadn’t paid attention or taken the time to reflect, I would have missed these signs. I would have missed the goodness of God quietly woven through my story. But over time, I’ve learned to see Him in everything—every interaction, every difficulty, every blessing. When I reflect on my life before finding God, I often compare it to the story in Luke 2, when people were unaware of the presence of Christ in their midst. I don’t want to be unaware anymore. Unfortunately, attending a private Christian school is not easy financially, especially when you’re paying for it yourself. Even with my athletic and academic scholarships, the cost is still more than I can manage on my own. I’m currently double majoring in Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering, and I’m also minoring in Bible. My ultimate goal is to pursue a career in biomedical engineering, where I can focus on advancing hearing devices—something I’ve dreamed about for years. I want to create change in people’s lives the way God has changed mine. I believe God has blessed me with a unique set of gifts. I’ve always had a natural connection with children, and I’ve always been good at computer-related learning. But beyond that, God placed a very specific group of people on my heart: the Deaf community. In high school, I studied American Sign Language (ASL) until I became fluent. I immersed myself in Deaf culture and learned the challenges this community faces every day in a world built for hearing people. I’ve stayed deeply connected to the Deaf community ever since, constantly thinking of ways we can create more inclusive spaces and tools to make life easier—not harder—for those who are Deaf or hard of hearing. This scholarship would not just help me pay for school—it would help me get one step closer to closing the growing financial gap that stands between me and the future I know God has called me to pursue. It would allow me to continue walking the path He’s laid out for me, a path filled with purpose, service, and innovation. More than anything, it would help me continue to live out the mission I feel called to: to serve, to build, to include, and to believe—no matter how impossible the odds may seem. Through it all, I’ve learned that God is not just present in the big moments. He is present in the details, the dreams, the room numbers, the names, and the people who leave too soon. He’s present in every yes, every no, and every quiet whisper that reminds me I’m never walking alone.

As a child, I was exposed to multiple puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, sudoku, word searches, and games like mancala, chess, and checkers. Whether I was completing puzzles with my Grandma or just finding puzzles on my own, I usually completed puzzles expected to take hours in about 30 minutes to 1 hour, consuming most of my parents' money buying Jigsaw puzzles constantly for 1 of 3 daughters. My parents even spent time finding puzzles labeled, “Impossible Puzzle” or “2 Sided Puzzle” and I found a way to complete them with little to no trouble, asking for more each time. Eventually, my parents stopped buying jigsaw puzzles for me, so I decided to start making JIgsaw puzzles of my own. Around the time I was 11 or 12 I discovered much more advanced puzzles. I came across them at a birthday party. I found the puzzles challenged me by being both 3D and clear. With my parents seeing the puzzles took me more time they were willing to buy the puzzles despite the lowest price of them being about 15 dollars. Soon I learned exactly how to Solve them in a short time, learning how each different piece and edge was meant to be in every puzzle. And again my parents decided they would not spend their money on something I completed so easily, so I started helping with little projects around the house, mounting a TV, building a storage shelf, or creating a cart. I had Scoliosis Surgery after I turned 13 and building things heavier than 5 pounds was off-limits for a few months. I went back to building puzzles but also started coding on a simple code site allowing me to play simple games using code. I became pretty interested in the game and signed up for computer science starting my freshman year of high school. While taking the class I realized I enjoyed making code that could accomplish complex tasks like taking a set of numbers and being able to go through any mathematical equations to find the right answer, or creating code that could play a card game or board game using randomized code following simple tasks. Once recovering from my surgery with no weight limit and no major precautionary measures being taken I decided to sign up for an introductory engineering class where I learned within the first few weeks what each different label before engineer happened to mean. This is also where I figured out that I didn't want to go too specific in engineering as "stuff" varying seemed to suit me. So I learned I also enjoy making a bunch of different items not being too specific but items able to solve problems or complete tasks. With my interest in both building items and coding, I decided I will pursue Mechanical Engineering and Computer Science, to have an endless supply of puzzles varying in difficulty, creating machines that can complete tasks or problems. I hope to be able to use computer science and mechanical engineering to help solve problems in areas including Deaf accessibility and even create robots or machines that can solve small problems.