Being a student and a single parent is a balancing act that constantly tests my strength, patience, and determination. To this day, one of the biggest challenges I face is managing time. There are only 24 hours in a day, yet I’m expected to stretch them in impossible ways. There is never a break, from dropping my daughter off at school and rushing to class to working on assignments late at night after she’s asleep. While other students can stay after class to connect or join study groups with one another, I’m usually heading home to cook dinner, prep for the next day, and fulfill any other parental obligation. It’s a full-time job on top of my full-time education and full-time employment. What makes this even harder is the emotional toll it takes. There’s a constant internal battle between needing to be fully present in my child’s life and wanting to excel academically so I can create a better future for both of us. I carry the guilt of missing events or not having the energy to play when she wants to, and I also carry the pressure to succeed in school so I don’t repeat the cycle I grew up in. It’s a heavy weight, especially knowing how easily one missed deadline or one emergency doctor visit can throw off an entire week’s worth of planning. To backtrack a bit, I was raised by a single mother who was deaf, raising four children on welfare and housing assistance. Our household was constantly under pressure—financially, emotionally, and physically. I had to step into a parenting role early on, interpreting for my mom starting at the age of four, cooking meals, helping with homework, and putting my younger brothers to bed while also trying to keep up with school. I was the second parent in our home, and I didn’t realize until I was older that my mother was also battling severe postpartum depression. I now see her frustration and anger not just as expressions of stress but as signs of a more profound struggle that neither of us fully understood at the time. That experience shaped me in profound ways. I didn’t have the luxury of a carefree childhood, and I’ve always known what it means to be responsible for others. Because of this, I’ve made a vow to break that cycle with my daughter. I want her to enjoy her childhood, join extracurricular activities, and have the space to just be a kid. That means I work extra hard now to lay a foundation for our future—one where she doesn’t have to carry the emotional or practical burdens that I did. This scholarship represents more than financial assistance—it means time, peace of mind, and the opportunity to breathe a little easier. With this support, I can reduce the hours I spend working overtime at my job and school, allowing me more time to dedicate to my studies and my daughter. It will allow me to invest more in our futures without constantly choosing between gas money and groceries or printing an assignment and schoolbooks. It also opens doors. I would love to create spaces for women and families who experience what I did—poverty, neglect, abuse, and the weight of silence. I want to create a space that provides the kind of support I wish we had growing up. That dream takes time, planning, and education—everything this scholarship helps me get closer to. More than anything, this scholarship affirms that people like me— student parents, single parents, first-generation college students, and those who’ve struggled and survived—are worthy of investment. It tells me that my story matters and that someone believes in my potential. And when I tell my daughter that she can be anything she wants to be, I’ll be doing so not just as her mother but as living proof that it’s possible.

Picture the hustle of fast-paced mornings, juggling lunch packing with mental revision for an exam, which you barely had time to prepare for, and nights spent writing papers with one hand and comforting a feverish child with the other. The struggle of balancing higher education while being a single parent is undeniably tough. Yet, for over four years, I've managed to work full-time, manage my household, attend school, and still be fully present for my daughter. There are days when it feels like time is slipping away, but I persist because I know what I'm striving for. In our home, my little one gets to experience the joys of childhood. She receives the support and space to grow, which is profoundly important to me. While I hold myself to high standards as a student and at work, it is not at the expense of my baby's childhood. My daughter will remember the mommy who excelled in school, dressed her up in a matching cape and gown, walked across the stage to receive her diploma from UC Berkeley, and never gave up. She will also remember the mommy who watched Moana with her 100 times a day, sang along to the entire Encanto soundtrack with her, and did arts and crafts every weekend. My daughter has been right by my side—attending classes with me, celebrating milestones, and pretending to work on her own "projects" while I finished mine. Her presence has been a constant reminder of why I keep going. Every late night, every early morning, every hurdle I've overcome—it's all to show her that she can dream big, work hard, and take up space in any room she walks into. I understand the feeling of being stretched thin, of questioning whether you can handle it all, and then showing up the next day and getting it done. Looking ahead, I am determined to stay involved in programs that support student parents because I've experienced firsthand the significant difference such support can make. Whether it's through mentorship, sharing resources, or simply being someone who understands, I want to remind others that they don't have to face these challenges alone. The support I received was pivotal in my journey, and I'm committed to helping others use it to transform their lives. This fall, I will be attending UCLA's School of Law with the goal to deepen my understanding of policy, advocacy, and systemic change to create and support programs that make a lasting impact—especially for families like mine.

I look at the clock, it's 2 a.m., and the baby is crying for either milk or a diaper change. I drag my feet to the other room and feel along the wall until I come close to the crib and see my younger brother looking back at me with teary, big eyes as he reaches his hands up to me. My mother is snoring in her bed as usual so I pick him up, rock him back to sleep and then trail back to my room to catch some shuteye before I start my new 5th-grade class in the morning. It isn't a shocker that a lot of older siblings had huge amounts of responsibilities in single-parent households. My part-time sister/parenting job consisted of everything a second parent would do: cook, clean, attend pediatrician appointments, pick up the kids from school, and much more. I was exhausted and I barely hit puberty! In my household, we had a single mother who was on section 8, food stamps, and welfare so we lived way below the typical means. Don't run the water too long, don't touch the heater, no lights during the day, and make sure to eat portions so we have enough for the month. Our clothes were most likely second hand and we barely got anything for the holidays. This shifted my perspective on where, who, why, and how I wanted to be when I reached the age to make a change in my life. My educational goal focuses on obtaining my master's degree and then my Ph.D. around 2028/2029 and this journey begins at UC Berkeley Spring semester of 2023. I study Sociology and will eventually land an amazing job in social work or any non-profit role where I can help others who experience the hardships that typically occur in low-income communities. During my 5 year plan, I will look into internships and positions that deal with homelessness, domestic violence, abuse, and/or discrimination in communities and the criminal justice system. I will network with anyone in the human and social sciences field during this time to find opportunities that will allow me to become an advocate for my people. There is a section in my planner that allows me to dream of the possibility of opening my own non-profit that would create a safe space and cater to domestic violence and sexually abused survivors. The struggles I experienced as a young child sparked my passion to become an advocate for those who seek the same support I needed.