Growing up, my local church was more than just a building—it was my second home and a place where I discovered the true meaning of community and service. From the moment I first stepped through the doors, I felt welcomed and loved, and that sense of belonging inspired me to give back in every way I could. One of the most impactful experiences was joining the church’s outreach ministry, where we serve meals to homeless families. I still remember the first time I handed a warm plate to a man who looked tired and forgotten by the world. Our eyes met, and in that brief moment, I realized that service isn’t just about giving things—it’s about restoring hope and dignity. As Jesus reminds us in Matthew 25:40, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” That scripture drives me daily to serve others with love and humility. My involvement in the church has also helped me grow as a leader and a friend. As part of the youth group, I helped organize food drives and tutoring sessions for kids in our neighborhood. Seeing the smiles on their faces after receiving a backpack full of supplies or after finally understanding a difficult math problem reminded me that small acts can create big changes. These experiences taught me that service isn’t always grand gestures; sometimes it’s the simple, consistent acts of love that build stronger communities. Beyond these activities, my church family has taught me resilience and faith. During hard times in my life, like when my family faced financial struggles, the church stood beside us with prayer, encouragement, and practical support. That support inspired me to help others in similar situations, knowing that faith can turn trials into testimonies. Because of my church involvement, I see my community through eyes of hope and possibility. Serving alongside people who genuinely care has strengthened my commitment to making a difference—not just now, but for the rest of my life. This scholarship would help me continue my education and equip me to serve on an even bigger scale, combining my faith with my passion to uplift those in need. In short, my church has been the foundation of my service, shaping me into someone who believes that faith without action is incomplete. It has taught me that true service flows from a heart transformed by love, and I am grateful every day for the chance to live out that calling.

Early childhood trauma leaves deep and lasting scars. Children who experience abuse, neglect, or instability during their early years often grow up carrying invisible wounds that impact every area of life. These traumas can lead to anxiety, depression, difficulty trusting others, developmental delays, poor academic performance, and even long-term physical health issues due to prolonged stress. When unrecognized or untreated, the trauma becomes generational repeating in cycles that affect families and communities for decades. I know this personally. I experienced neglect and emotional abuse as a child. For years, I believed I was the problem. I didn’t understand why I struggled to focus, why I avoided people, or why I felt afraid even in safe places. I internalized the pain until I began studying psychology and trauma in college. That’s when I realized I wasn’t broken I was wounded. And I wasn’t alone. That shift from shame to understanding changed my life. Now, I’m pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Counseling Psychology with a long-term goal of becoming a Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP). My purpose is to specialize in early childhood trauma and provide culturally competent, trauma-informed care to children and families—especially those in underserved communities. As a PMHNP, I want to be more than a provider. I want to be an advocate, educator, and bridge between pain and healing. I plan to work in school-based clinics, pediatric behavioral health units, and community health centers to provide early intervention, assessments, and treatment for children showing signs of emotional distress. My focus will be on developing therapeutic plans that involve both the child and their family, aiming not just to manage symptoms but to create sustainable healing. My long-term vision includes starting a nonprofit that offers integrated services: trauma counseling, parental support groups, nutrition and wellness education, and mental health literacy for families affected by abuse and neglect. I also want to develop group therapy programs specifically for young African-American children, who are often misdiagnosed or misunderstood in traditional mental health spaces. This passion is rooted not only in my personal experiences but in my faith and desire to serve. I believe every child deserves to feel safe, valued, and seen. Becoming a PMHNP gives me the tools to not only treat mental health issues but to prevent deeper harm through early detection, consistent care, and compassionate guidance. This scholarship would provide critical support on my journey but more than that, it would be a reminder that the pain I endured has a purpose. I am not studying trauma from a distance I’ve lived it. And I’m committed to using my life and career to help others rise from it. Thank you for your time and consideration. I’m ready to fight for the children no one else saw because I was one of them.

When I was in high school, I spent time volunteering in a classroom for students with special needs. One particular student, who communicated mostly through gestures, once reached out and touched my arm during an art activity. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes lit up, and he pointed proudly at the picture I had drawn of him. In that moment, I realized something profound: teaching is not just about academics—it’s about connection. That child didn’t need to speak to show his joy. He simply needed someone to notice him. That day, something sparked inside me, and I knew I wanted to dedicate my life to helping students with special needs feel seen, valued, and empowered. Professor Harold Bloom once said, “The purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence.” To me, this means that true teaching is not about filling a student with facts, but about helping them discover who they are. It’s about guiding them to see their unique strengths, their ability to learn, and their worth in a world that often tells them otherwise. For students with disabilities—who may struggle to feel included or capable—this sense of presence is essential. They deserve more than accommodation; they deserve affirmation. As a future special education teacher, my mission is to help each of my students experience that sense of presence. I want them to recognize that they are more than a diagnosis or a learning challenge—they are individuals full of potential, creativity, and light. I plan to do this by creating a classroom environment where every student feels safe, supported, and celebrated. I will adapt lessons to meet diverse learning styles, use positive reinforcement to build confidence, and incorporate art, movement, and storytelling to make learning accessible and joyful. I believe deeply in the power of presence—the kind of presence that allows students to express themselves without fear, to ask questions without judgment, and to take pride in their progress no matter how small. I want my students to leave my classroom not just with academic skills, but with a strong sense of who they are and what they are capable of becoming. A Short Fairy Tale: “The Whispering Light of Everhearth” Once upon a time, in a gentle land called Everhearth, lived a young teacher named Mira. Unlike others, Mira had a special gift—she could hear the quietest voices, the whispers that most people ignored. These whispers came from children in a nearby forest, children who had been told they were too slow, too different, or too hard to teach. Their lights had begun to fade. One day, the Queen summoned Mira and asked her to help. So, Mira packed her bag with books, paints, music, and her big, listening heart. In the forest, she didn’t demand or lecture. She listened, learned, and played. She told the children stories that reflected their strengths and created learning paths shaped just for them. Slowly, the children’s lights returned—not because Mira gave them something new, but because she helped them rediscover what had been inside all along. The children came back to the village, glowing with joy and purpose. And Mira became known as the Lantern Keeper—the one who helped the forgotten remember their light. This is my passion, my calling, and my purpose—to be a Lantern Keeper in real life. I believe that teaching special education is not just a profession; it’s a divine assignment. I’m ready to embrace it with all my heart.

Feeding Purpose: How My Story Will Change the World My name is Jamircale Jones, and I am currently pursuing a bachelor's degree in Counseling Psychology at Regent University. I am a first-generation college student, a mother, and a full-time substitute teacher in a special education classroom. Each of these roles has shaped me into someone who sees possibility where others see limits. And through my education and future career, I plan to make a positive impact in communities that are often overlooked and underserved—especially in the lives of children who remind me so much of myself. Growing up in a rural Georgia town, I understood early what it meant to struggle silently. Mental health wasn’t discussed, trauma was normalized, and survival was praised more than healing. It wasn’t until I started working with special needs students that I began to truly understand the depth of emotional isolation so many young people experience. Many of my students are non-verbal, misunderstood, or mislabeled. Yet every day, I witness the brilliance in them that just needs the right environment to bloom. That’s when I knew my calling: to become a Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP), so I can diagnose, counsel, and walk with these children and their families from brokenness to breakthrough. My long-term goal is to open a trauma-informed wellness center in my hometown that offers free and low-cost services to families facing emotional, developmental, or behavioral challenges. I want to create a space where psychology meets purpose, and where counseling is infused with grace, cultural sensitivity, and faith. I also plan to work directly in schools as a clinical provider, so that children from low-income communities can receive the help they need without transportation or financial barriers. Through my work, I hope to dismantle the stigma surrounding mental health—especially within Black and rural communities. I want to educate parents, empower students, and shift the narrative from "what's wrong with you" to "what happened to you and how can we heal?" I plan to combine clinical skills with my spiritual foundation to offer holistic care that meets people where they are and leads them toward where they’re meant to be. Being a mother has deepened my resolve. I want my daughter to grow up in a world where asking for help is seen as strength and where every child is given the tools to thrive emotionally, not just academically. I want her to see through me that it’s possible to break generational patterns and build something better from the pieces. This scholarship would not just ease my financial burden—it would multiply the impact of my mission. With fewer financial constraints, I can continue my education while staying focused on fieldwork and community service. It would be an investment not just in me, but in every student, parent, and client I will one day serve. I believe we are all born with a seed of purpose. Mine is to nurture the overlooked, speak life into silence, and help heal the wounds we cannot always see. Through my career in mental health, I will not just make a difference—I will create a legacy of hope, access, and transformation.

More Than a Meal: How Growing Up in a Family Restaurant Shaped Me I grew up between the sizzle of fryers, the clatter of dishes, and the rhythmic call-and-response of “Order up!” and “Got it!” My family’s small Southern soul food restaurant wasn’t just a place of business—it was home, a classroom, and the foundation of my work ethic. It’s where I learned to read people before menus, juggle priorities like trays, and show up even when I was tired, frustrated, or overwhelmed. And while this upbringing taught me skills I now consider second nature, it also came with a weight—an unspoken pressure to stay, to help, and to sacrifice my dreams for the sake of our survival. As a BIPOC, first-generation college student, the expectation that I would “take over the family business” was something I carried as early as middle school. My parents worked 12-hour days, six days a week, to keep the doors open. When the pandemic hit, those long days became longer, and the fear of losing everything they built became real. I began to see the emotional toll that came with entrepreneurship, especially in communities of color where resources and support are limited. I helped more with paperwork, delivery runs, and late-night inventory lists. At times, I felt guilty for dreaming of college when my family needed me most. But it was precisely this experience that made me realize I could do more—not by staying at the register, but by studying what it takes to uplift communities like mine from within. I’m currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in Counseling Psychology at Regent University. My goal is to become a licensed counselor serving low-income, underserved communities—many of which include small business owners and families like mine, who are silently bearing emotional and financial burdens. I want to be the person who helps them cope with stress, navigate burnout, and advocate for their well-being. Still, I haven’t forgotten the restaurant. In fact, it has inspired ideas I hope to bring to life in the future. If I could change the restaurant industry, I would start by making mental health support a regular part of business wellness. So many small, family-run restaurants fail not because of lack of food quality or passion—but because of unspoken exhaustion, lack of boundaries, and generational pressure. I would advocate for programs that provide counseling services to restaurant owners and employees, financial literacy courses for families, and grants specifically for second-generation business leaders who want to evolve the business while still honoring the legacy. I also believe the restaurant industry needs to make room for innovation without guilt. Many children of restaurant owners, especially in immigrant and Black families, feel torn between helping and growing. I want to help create a bridge where young people can contribute to their family’s business in new ways—through branding, health-focused menus, technology, and community events—without feeling like they have to give up their own dreams in the process. The $2,000 from this scholarship would help lighten the financial strain that tuition places on my family. It would allow me to stay in school, focus on my clinical training, and pursue the calling that was stirred in me behind the counter of a small-town kitchen. I will always be proud of where I come from, but now, I’m focused on where I’m going—and how I can take what I’ve learned from that restaurant and use it to feed more than bodies, but souls too.

For Such a Time as This: My Calling to Counseling and Why This Scholarship Matters By Jamircale Jones My name is Jamircale Jones, and I am an undergraduate student majoring in Counseling Psychology at Regent University, a private Christian university rooted in biblical values. I am also a mother, a full-time substitute teacher for a special education class, and a first-generation college student fighting every day to break generational cycles through faith, education, and service. I believe with my whole heart that I was called into this field “for such a time as this.” Like Esther, I’ve been placed here not by coincidence but by divine design—to be a light in dark spaces, a voice for the voiceless, and a vessel of healing in communities that have long suffered in silence. My major in Counseling Psychology is more than an academic pursuit; it is a spiritual assignment. I have seen firsthand how trauma, poverty, and silence devastate families and futures. I’ve lived through it, watched loved ones battle it, and now I walk beside students who carry it every day in the classroom. Many of the children I work with are non-verbal, emotionally overwhelmed, or battling diagnoses their families barely understand. And still, I see their brilliance. Still, I show up. My vision is to become a licensed mental health counselor and eventually open a trauma-informed counseling and wellness center in my hometown of Rochelle, Georgia—a small rural area where access to therapy and mental health education is nearly nonexistent. I want to focus on serving African American families, special needs students, and single mothers navigating emotional wounds with no support system. I also plan to develop community outreach programs that blend faith and mental health so that spiritual growth and emotional healing go hand in hand. This scholarship would significantly lighten the financial load I carry. As a mother, every dollar I spend on school is a dollar I can’t put toward my child’s needs. Yet I know I’m not just investing in my education—I’m investing in my child’s future, my students’ healing, and my community’s restoration. This $500 would help me afford textbooks, clinical supplies, or transportation to my field practicum site. Most importantly, it would remind me that I am not walking this journey alone—that someone believes in my vision enough to sow into it. At Regent, I’m not just learning theory—I’m growing in faith. The biblical principles woven into our courses help me see counseling as a calling. I believe that God uses counselors to restore brokenness, just as He used Esther to restore a nation. And like her, I’ve accepted that my background, my pain, and my purpose were never meant to be hidden—they were meant to prepare me for impact. Thank you for considering me for the Eitel Scholarship. This opportunity is not just financial—it is spiritual affirmation. With your support, I will continue to study, serve, and show up for those who need it most. Because I truly believe that healing hearts is holy work—and I am ready to answer that call.

"The Gift of Presence: My Calling in Special Education" By Jamircale Jones There is a quote by Professor Harold Bloom that resonates deeply with my personal and professional mission: “I have learned that the purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence.” When I first read this quote, it felt like a key unlocking something I’ve long felt but never had words for. To me, a student’s “own presence” is their unique sense of self—where their identity, voice, and purpose intersect. In special education, where students often face labels, limits, and overlooked potential, guiding a child to their own presence is an act of liberation. My passion for special education was not born in a classroom, but in life. I grew up surrounded by family members and community members with diverse learning needs and emotional challenges. I watched as their brilliance was overlooked simply because it didn’t fit into a traditional mold. Later, while working as a permanent substitute teacher in a middle school special education classroom, that passion took root and blossomed. Every day, I witnessed small miracles: a student learning to self-regulate through a breathing technique we practiced together, another finally making eye contact after weeks of trust-building, and one finding the courage to use their AAC device to express, “I’m happy today.” These moments reminded me that special education isn’t about “fixing” anyone—it’s about revealing what has always been there and guiding students back to themselves. Understanding Presence: The Heart of Teaching To help a student discover their own presence is to help them realize that they matter—that their thoughts, feelings, and experiences are valid, and their learning journey is their own. This sense of presence builds confidence, resilience, and independence. It empowers students to participate in their world rather than passively experience it. For students with special needs, this process can be especially transformative. Many of them navigate a world that tells them what they can’t do. My mission is to be the voice that reminds them what they can. To guide my students to their own sense of presence, I first honor who they are. That means learning their communication styles, listening deeply, and creating classroom spaces where safety and celebration coexist. I use visual supports, sensory tools, music, and movement to connect with each student in a way that is meaningful to them. I individualize not just instruction, but interaction—because every student deserves to feel known. My Mission as a Special Education Teacher My mission is to be the kind of teacher who sees the student first and the diagnosis second. I want to create classrooms that aren’t simply inclusive by design, but inclusive by culture. Where students feel free to express their thoughts, stim if needed, or take space when overwhelmed. Where communication is not restricted to verbal speech, and every method of expression—gestures, eye contact, devices, art—is honored as language. I aim to build strong relationships with families because presence doesn’t stop at the classroom door. When families are supported and informed, students thrive. I will advocate for my students in IEP meetings, speak up when services fall short, and celebrate every milestone—big or small—because progress is not linear and growth often happens in the moments we least expect. Finally, I believe in equipping my students with tools for self-advocacy. Whether it's teaching them to recognize their emotions or helping them practice how to ask for a break, I want my students to walk away with skills that extend beyond the classroom. I want them to know they have a right to take up space in this world—and to do so with confidence and pride. A Fairy Tale: The Voicefinder Once upon a time, in a town where silence wrapped around the children like thick fog, there lived a young woman named Jamircale. This village, though full of bright and beautiful children, had forgotten how to listen. Some children didn’t speak with words. Others danced to a rhythm no one else could hear. Many were misunderstood, hidden away behind stone doors of labels and assumptions. Jamircale, born with a heart that heard what ears could not, decided she would become a Voicefinder. This was no ordinary job. A Voicefinder didn’t just listen—she believed. She walked into the quietest rooms, knelt beside the shyest child, and said, “I see you. Even here, you matter.” Each morning, Jamircale packed her satchel with magic tools: fidget spinners that glowed when a child felt anxious, visual cards that shimmered with clarity, and songs that soothed like warm blankets. One day, she met a boy named Sol who had not spoken in years. The villagers had labeled him “lost.” But Jamircale saw something else: flickers of curiosity in his eyes when the wind rustled, slight taps of rhythm in his fingers when he sat near the river. She sat beside him, and together, they listened to the world: birds chirping, trees swaying, water bubbling. Then she tapped a beat. Once. Twice. Sol tapped back. Every day, she returned, and their rhythm grew. Weeks later, Sol tugged at her sleeve and used his hands to sign, “Thank you.” Gasps echoed across the village. The fog began to lift. Word spread. More children came to Jamircale, some who flapped their hands to feel joy, others who traced the sky with their eyes. And one by one, she helped them find their voices—not just with words, but with presence. And so, the village changed. Classrooms were filled with color, not shame. Learning looked like dancing, humming, painting, tapping. And in the center of it all stood Jamircale, the Voicefinder, who never tried to change the children but instead taught them how to shine. Why This Matters That fairy tale may sound whimsical, but for many students, it mirrors real life. Too many children are unseen, unheard, and underestimated. I don’t want to be a teacher who fills minds with facts—I want to be the teacher who sparks light in students' hearts. I want to be the person who believes in their potential even when they struggle to believe in themselves. This scholarship would support me on the journey to becoming a certified special education teacher, allowing me to focus more on my field experience, professional development, and creating inclusive curriculum tools. But more than anything, it would help me continue doing what I was born to do—helping students step into their own light and own presence.

Rooted in Purpose: A Heart for Healing My Community When I was a child, I used to sit quietly in the room while the adults talked around me, never realizing that those silent moments would shape the path I walk today. I saw women I loved hide their pain with a smile, families break under the weight of unspoken trauma, and children—just like me—absorb pain they didn’t know how to name. Those moments became my motivation. Today, I am not just studying psychology; I am pursuing a life of purpose—one that brings healing, hope, and restoration to communities that have long been surviving in silence. My name is Jamircale Jones, and I’m currently pursuing my degree in Counseling Psychology at Regent University. I work as a permanent substitute teacher in a special education middle school classroom where I support students with autism, behavioral challenges, and emotional needs. Many of these students come from homes affected by generational poverty, trauma, and mental illness—issues I understand not from textbooks, but from lived experience. Each day in the classroom reminds me that healing doesn’t start in an office. It starts in relationships, in listening, and in showing up consistently for those who feel overlooked. My goal is to become a licensed counselor and eventually open a community-based mental health and wellness center in my hometown of Rochelle, Georgia. The center will provide affordable therapy, trauma support groups, parenting education, and faith-integrated care. Too many people in small, rural, predominantly Black communities carry unaddressed pain because they lack access to mental health services or don’t feel safe seeking them. I want to be the bridge between their silence and their healing. I also plan to work closely with schools, churches, and youth programs to lead mental health education efforts and create spaces where emotional literacy is nurtured from a young age. I want to train teachers, equip parents, and uplift young girls who feel unseen or unheard. My experiences have taught me that emotional wounds, when left untreated, become the root of so many challenges—violence, addiction, dropout rates, broken homes. If I can help one person find clarity, one family find peace, or one child find their voice, then I will have done something meaningful. What makes me different is that I understand the brokenness I want to help heal. I’m not reaching back with pity—I’m reaching with compassion, experience, and the determination to transform pain into purpose. I’ve had to overcome my own battles with insecurity, financial hardship, and feeling like my voice didn’t matter. But each step of my journey has made me stronger and more committed to being the advocate I once needed. Receiving this scholarship would lighten my financial load and allow me to continue serving my students and community while completing my education. More than that, it would affirm the value of the work I am preparing to do. I may not be able to change the whole world at once, but I know I can change the atmosphere of a classroom, the outlook of a child, and the heart of a hurting community. This isn’t just a career for me—it’s a calling. And I plan to answer it fully.

The Silent Influence: How My Uniqueness Lights a Path for Others I’ve always been sensitive—not in the way people often tease about, but in the kind of way that allows me to walk into a room and feel everything that isn’t being said. I can sense tension before a word is spoken. I pick up on unspoken sorrow in a child’s eyes or the exhaustion behind a parent’s forced smile. For a long time, I thought this made me "too much"—too emotional, too observant, too affected. But with time, I realized that this sensitivity was not a weakness. It was my gift. It’s how I make a difference in people’s lives, especially those who may never say a word to me but are watching from the sidelines. I am different because I carry a deep sense of emotional discernment and empathy that guides how I move through the world. Whether I’m supporting a non-verbal student through a meltdown, quietly paying for a stranger’s groceries, or just showing up consistently with love and patience, I operate from a place of intentional kindness. I don’t need to be recognized to be impactful. I’ve learned that some of the most meaningful differences are made in the shadows—in moments when someone sees how you live, not just what you say. One moment that stays with me happened while I was working in my special education classroom. A student who rarely spoke or engaged began to mimic how I greeted others every morning with, “I’m glad you’re here today.” At first, I didn’t notice he was watching. But one morning, I heard him whisper it to a classmate who had been having a rough day. That simple phrase, which I had no idea was being absorbed, became his way of spreading encouragement. He never said it to me, but he had been watching, learning, and then becoming a light to someone else. That’s the ripple effect of quiet leadership. I believe that what makes me unique is not just what I feel, but how I act on what I feel. I don’t shy away from people’s pain or pretend not to see it. I lean in. I create space. And I treat people with dignity, whether they’re speaking or silent, angry or afraid, child or adult. In a world that’s often loud and performative, I’ve chosen to be quietly intentional. That difference matters—especially to someone who is watching and waiting for a sign that love still exists in the small things. As I pursue my degree in Counseling Psychology, I’m using this uniqueness as the foundation of my career. I plan to serve communities where people have long felt invisible—low-income schools, trauma survivors, and marginalized families. But I know the work starts now, not someday. Every day I choose to show up with compassion, I’m planting seeds. I may never know who’s watching, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I keep shining. In a world full of noise, I am the quiet that sees, the heart that listens, and the presence that heals—without ever needing to be seen.

The Day I Found My Calling: One Child, One Moment, One Purpose It started as a typical Tuesday morning in the special needs classroom where I work as a permanent substitute teacher. The classroom buzzed with the hum of routine—flipping through flashcards, organizing visual schedules, and preparing sensory materials for the students. But that day, something changed for both me and a student I’ll call Jordan. Jordan is a non-verbal, autistic sixth grader with a gentle spirit and eyes that speak volumes. When I first started in the classroom, he wouldn’t make eye contact, didn’t tolerate touch, and rarely participated in any activities. He spent most of the day curled into himself, rocking back and forth in a corner or staring out the window. I could tell his world was loud and overwhelming, and I didn’t want to be another unfamiliar adult barking commands he couldn’t process. I wanted to reach him—genuinely, gently, and at his pace. So I studied him—not just his behavior plans and IEP, but him. What colors calmed him? What sounds triggered a shutdown? What moments caused him to smile, even if only slightly? Over time, I noticed he responded to rhythm—specifically the tap of a pencil or the shuffle of footsteps. One day, during a particularly tough morning, I began softly tapping a steady beat on the desk beside him while humming a simple tune. To my surprise, he stopped rocking. Then, slowly, he tapped the table back. It was the first time we had communicated. That moment was small by most standards, but to me—and I believe to Jordan—it was monumental. I ran with it. Every day, I created rhythmic games using simple instruments, clapping patterns, and movement songs. Gradually, Jordan began to engage more. He started initiating hand-over-hand activities. He started walking to my desk in the mornings. Most incredibly, he began using his AAC (augmentative and alternative communication) device with increased frequency. One day, when I wasn’t in class yet, he used the device to say, “Where is Miss Jones?” That sentence changed everything. In that moment, I knew without a doubt that I was doing what I was called to do. I wasn’t just teaching—I was building trust, helping unlock expression, and affirming a child who had long lived in silence. Jordan reminded me that impact doesn’t require grand gestures. Sometimes it’s found in patience, in learning someone’s rhythm, and in showing up consistently. My time with Jordan has shaped my decision to pursue a degree in Counseling Psychology. I want to go beyond academic support and into emotional healing. I want to become a licensed counselor specializing in working with children on the autism spectrum and others with communication challenges. Too often, children like Jordan are misunderstood or misdiagnosed, labeled as “difficult” rather than seen as different. I want to be someone who sees them fully—who listens not just with ears, but with heart and intention. This experience also reinforced how important inclusive education is. Children with special needs deserve to learn in environments that respect their neurodiversity and foster their growth. But inclusion isn’t just about sharing space—it’s about connection. If we want students to flourish, we must invest in educators and mental health professionals who are equipped with not only training, but empathy. I want to be one of those professionals. Jordan also changed how I approach every child I interact with now. I’m more attentive to the unspoken cues, more aware of the layers beneath behavior. I’ve learned that behavior is communication, and when children “act out,” they’re often reaching out. That understanding has made me a better educator, a better caregiver, and a better human. Beyond my professional goals, I’ve begun advocating for better sensory-friendly spaces and communication accommodations in schools. I’ve hosted mini workshops for other teachers at my school about using music as a tool for connection, especially with non-verbal students. I also help parents understand how to reinforce these connections at home through shared rhythms and visual aids. Jordan may have never spoken a full sentence aloud to me, but his presence has amplified my voice. This scholarship would help me continue my journey—financially, emotionally, and purposefully. It would lift a weight that so many aspiring educators feel, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds. It would allow me to focus more fully on my practicum hours, licensing exams, and ultimately, opening a child counseling center in my hometown—Rochelle, Georgia—where children like Jordan often fall through the cracks. My dream is to build a space that blends counseling, creativity, and communication—a space where children and families feel seen, supported, and empowered. A place with therapy rooms that welcome laughter and sensory play, where silence isn’t feared but explored, and where every child is reminded that their voice matters—even if it sounds different from everyone else’s. Looking back on that Tuesday morning, I realize now that I didn’t just help Jordan—I met him where he was and walked with him, step by step, beat by beat. And in doing so, he helped me find my life’s rhythm, too.

Breaking the Cycle: My Purpose in Serving African American Women Impacted by Domestic Violence and Substance Abuse I was too young to understand what was happening, but old enough to feel the fear. Growing up, I witnessed the devastating effects of domestic violence and substance abuse within my own family. I watched strong women in my life—women I loved—silence their pain, hide their bruises, and carry the burden of addiction and trauma without support. The emotional wounds were just as visible as the physical ones, and the silence around these issues made them feel even heavier. These experiences didn’t break me—they built a fire in me. I promised myself I would not only survive what I witnessed, but I would also be a part of the solution for other women walking the same path. As a Black woman, I understand the unique challenges African American women face when impacted by domestic violence and substance abuse. The intersection of race, gender, and generational trauma often creates barriers to care, especially when the systems meant to help us have historically ignored or misunderstood our pain. I’ve seen firsthand how stigma, lack of access, distrust in healthcare, and cultural silence keep so many women from getting the help they desperately need. That is why I chose to pursue a degree in Counseling Psychology at Regent University—with the vision of becoming a licensed counselor and mental health advocate specifically serving Black women and families. My goal is to create safe spaces for African American women to speak, heal, and rebuild. Through my education, I am learning not just clinical techniques, but how to apply them with cultural humility and deep empathy. I plan to open a mental health and trauma recovery center in a low-income area, where women can receive free or affordable services including counseling, substance abuse recovery support, domestic violence advocacy, and parenting assistance. I want to remove as many barriers as possible—no waiting lists, no shame, no judgment. To improve care and coordination, I plan to use what I’m learning to advocate for better integration of mental health, medical, and social services. Too often, survivors are bounced between agencies that don’t communicate. I envision a holistic model of care where case managers, therapists, and social workers collaborate in real-time, ensuring women don’t have to retell their trauma repeatedly or fall through the cracks. Improving communication also means educating providers on how to listen better. So many African American women are dismissed when they express pain, fear, or concern. I want to develop trauma-informed training programs for professionals working in shelters, hospitals, schools, and police departments—helping them understand how to respond with care, cultural competence, and urgency. My own healing journey continues, but higher education has given me the tools and language to not only process my past but to turn it into purpose. This scholarship would be an investment not only in my education, but in the countless lives I plan to touch through my future practice. I’ve been the girl who needed help. Now, I am becoming the woman who will provide it.

Restoring Hope: My Purpose in Mental Health Advocacy When I was younger, I didn’t have the words to explain what I felt inside—just a heavy weight I carried every day. Anxiety, sadness, and confusion became normal for me and for many people around me. Growing up in a marginalized, rural community in Georgia, I witnessed firsthand how mental health struggles were often overlooked or dismissed. Therapy was seen as a luxury, not a necessity, and emotions were buried rather than explored. These experiences sparked a fire within me to become the voice, the listener, and the healer that so many people in my community never had. I am currently pursuing a degree in Counseling Psychology at Regent University with the goal of becoming a licensed therapist who specializes in serving marginalized populations—especially low-income Black and Brown communities where access to care is limited and stigma is high. My work as a permanent substitute in a special needs classroom has further shown me how trauma, systemic inequality, and generational silence can deeply affect the mental well-being of children and families. Many of my students come from environments where mental health is rarely acknowledged, and yet their behaviors, fears, and frustrations speak volumes. I want to be someone who listens—not just to what’s said, but to what’s not. My own experience with mental health challenges has taught me the power of empathy. I know what it feels like to carry pain quietly. I’ve learned how important it is to be met with compassion rather than judgment. Those experiences have shaped not only my beliefs but also my activism. I’ve begun advocating for mental health education in schools and hope to one day create a network of mobile therapy units that bring mental health services directly to underserved areas—churches, schools, community centers—where trust already exists. The impact I plan to make goes beyond individual therapy. I want to be a catalyst for cultural change—breaking the stigma, educating families, and training future counselors from within marginalized communities. Representation matters. When people see someone who looks like them and understands their experiences, healing becomes more accessible. I believe in holistic care—therapy that respects cultural backgrounds, faith, and lived experiences while also introducing new coping tools and resources. My goal is not just to provide services, but to empower communities to continue the work long after I leave the room. That means hosting support groups, offering mental health first aid training, and integrating emotional education into local school systems. I envision centers where counseling, career guidance, parenting support, and trauma recovery exist under one roof—built for the people, by the people. Being open about my mental health journey has not been easy, but it has given me strength and direction. I’ve seen what silence can do, and I want to break it. This scholarship would allow me to continue my education, gain clinical experience, and focus on developing community-centered solutions without the added financial strain. My life’s mission is to restore hope, one conversation, one session, one community at a time.

How Being a First-Generation College Student Influences My Career Goals By Jamircale Jones Growing up, I often heard the phrase “be the one to break the cycle.” As a first-generation college student, that phrase has become a driving force behind everything I do. I am the first in my immediate family to attend college, and with that comes both great pride and great responsibility. I carry the dreams of my parents, who worked hard to provide opportunities they never had, and I’m determined to honor their sacrifices by pursuing a meaningful career that helps others. Being a first-generation student has shaped my career goals in powerful ways. It has made me deeply aware of the challenges that come with navigating college life without a roadmap. From financial aid forms to course registration and study strategies, I’ve had to figure it out on my own. That journey has not only strengthened my independence and resilience but has also fueled my desire to support others who feel overwhelmed or overlooked in the academic system. It’s why I’ve chosen to major in Counseling Psychology at Regent University. My goal is to become a licensed counselor and specialize in working with youth from underserved communities, especially those who may be the first in their families to pursue higher education. I want to be a resource for students who feel lost, just as I once did, and help them find clarity, confidence, and purpose. I believe that mental health and emotional support are key to student success, and I want to create safe spaces for healing, growth, and self-belief. Being a first-generation college student has taught me that success isn’t just about personal achievement—it’s about lifting others up along the way. This experience has not only shaped my goals but given them heart, purpose, and direction.

My Greatest Achievement: Overcoming Adversity and Persevering for My Education Looking back on my life so far, my greatest achievement has been my ability to balance the challenges of being a single mother while pursuing my education. It hasn’t been an easy road, but it is an accomplishment I hold dear because it reflects my determination, resilience, and unwavering commitment to a better future for myself and my child. When I became a mother, I knew my life would change in many ways. I took on a huge responsibility, but I also knew that my journey as a mother would be one of the greatest gifts I would ever receive. However, becoming a single mother posed challenges I had not anticipated. Juggling the responsibilities of work, raising my child, and pursuing my academic goals often felt overwhelming. But through it all, I stayed committed to my dream of earning a degree and creating a better life for my daughter and myself. The most significant lesson I learned through this experience is my own resilience. There were days when I felt like giving up, when the pressure of deadlines, bills, and parenting seemed too much to bear. But I pushed through because I realized that this journey was not just about me—it was about my child’s future as well. I learned to manage my time efficiently, find support when needed, and remain positive despite challenges. This experience taught me that I am capable of achieving far more than I initially thought. I have learned to navigate obstacles with perseverance, and I know that my journey is shaping me into a stronger, more capable person. In addition to the personal growth I’ve experienced, this achievement has given me a clearer sense of purpose. I am working hard to create a better future for my daughter. I want her to see that no matter what life throws at you, determination and hard work can open doors to new opportunities. I want to show her that education is a tool that can transform lives, and I hope to set an example for her by finishing my degree and continuing to pursue personal and professional growth. As I look toward the future, I am focused on what I hope to achieve. I want to continue my education, earning my degree, and using it to make a positive impact in the world. I aspire to work in a field where I can help others overcome obstacles and create positive change in their lives. Whether it’s through counseling, advocacy, or community-based work, I am passionate about supporting others who face adversity. I want to inspire those around me to believe in themselves, as I have learned to do, and show them that their circumstances do not define their potential. Ultimately, my goal is to build a life that allows me to make a difference in the lives of others, especially children and families who are facing difficult circumstances. I want to help provide them with the tools and resources they need to succeed, just as I am doing for my own family. I hope to create a lasting legacy, not just for myself and my child, but for those I can help along the way. In conclusion, my greatest achievement has been the ability to persist in my education while raising my child as a single mother. This experience has taught me the importance of resilience, hard work, and perseverance. It has given me a stronger sense of purpose and a clearer vision for the future. Through this scholarship, I will be able to continue on my path to achieving my educational and career goals, and ultimately, I hope to use my experiences to make a meaningful impact on others.

The Importance of Early Childhood Education, Being a Single Mother, and the Impact of Books on My Life Early childhood education has always been a priority for me, especially as I balance my responsibilities as a single mother. I’ve witnessed firsthand how these early years are critical in shaping a child’s future. During this time, children develop the cognitive, social, and emotional skills that will help them succeed throughout their lives. As a mother, I understand the value of providing my child with the best start in life, and that is why I am passionate about ensuring that all children, regardless of their background, have access to quality early education. I believe that early childhood education is essential because it gives children the foundation to succeed academically and socially. Research shows that children who receive quality education during their early years are more likely to succeed in school, have better social skills, and face fewer behavioral issues. As a single mother, I am especially aware of how difficult it can be to balance work, family responsibilities, and personal life. Early education programs can serve as a strong support system for families like mine, ensuring children are well-prepared for school and life. By promoting early childhood education, I hope to provide children with the opportunities they need to thrive. Being a single mother has impacted my educational goals in many ways. Raising my child on my own has taught me to be resilient, organized, and focused. While there have been many challenges—late-night study sessions, balancing responsibilities, and financial constraints—these obstacles have only strengthened my resolve to continue my education. I want to be a role model for my child, showing her that with hard work and determination, education can open doors to new opportunities. My commitment to providing a better future for her is what motivates me to keep pushing forward, despite the difficulties. The top three books that have had a significant impact on my life are The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale, The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls, and Educated by Tara Westover. Each of these books has shaped my outlook on life and reinforced my belief in the transformative power of education. The Power of Positive Thinking has been a source of motivation for me, particularly during challenging times. Peale’s teachings on the power of maintaining a positive mindset have helped me overcome obstacles and stay focused on my goals. His message has taught me that a positive attitude can turn setbacks into opportunities. The Glass Castle resonated with me because of its portrayal of overcoming adversity. Jeannette Walls’ journey from an unstable childhood to achieving success inspired me to believe that no matter the circumstances, I can rise above and create a better future for myself and my child. Educated was transformative because it demonstrated how education can break cycles of hardship. Tara Westover’s story reminded me that education is more than just acquiring knowledge—it’s about changing lives and breaking free from limiting circumstances. This book reaffirmed my belief that education is the key to creating opportunities and empowering myself and others. In conclusion, early childhood education is vital to me because it gives children the foundation to succeed. As a single mother, my education drives my goals for a better future. Books like The Power of Positive Thinking, The Glass Castle, and Educated have inspired me to persevere and pursue my dreams. This scholarship will allow me to continue my education and create opportunities for both myself and my child.

Why a Degree in Social Work Is My Ideal Path The decision to pursue a degree in social work was not made lightly, but rather stemmed from a deep-rooted desire to make a meaningful difference in the lives of others. Growing up, I was always drawn to helping people, whether it was assisting a friend through a difficult time, volunteering at local shelters, or supporting family members during personal challenges. This natural inclination to help others led me to consider social work as a profession, and the more I learned about the field, the more I felt it was the ideal path for me. Social work offers a unique blend of compassion, advocacy, and systemic change. I was particularly drawn to its focus on empowering individuals, families, and communities to overcome challenges, navigate difficult situations, and improve their overall well-being. I believe that social work is a powerful tool for promoting social justice and equity, and I wanted to be a part of that positive change. Additionally, social work offers a diverse range of career opportunities, allowing me to work in various settings, from schools and healthcare to child welfare and community organizations. This versatility appealed to me, as I have a strong desire to be adaptable and open to different ways I can help others. Since beginning my social work program, my understanding of the field has deepened and evolved. Initially, I envisioned myself working directly with children or families, helping them navigate challenges such as poverty, abuse, or mental health struggles. However, as I’ve progressed in my studies and gained hands-on experience, I have come to realize that social work encompasses a wide array of approaches, including advocacy, policy work, and community development. I have become particularly interested in addressing systemic issues, such as inequality and access to resources, and how social workers can influence policy changes that impact vulnerable populations. This shift in perspective has reinforced my commitment to the profession and expanded the scope of how I envision my future role in social work. In terms of giving back to my community, I am passionate about working with marginalized groups, especially individuals facing mental health challenges and those experiencing homelessness. I want to provide a voice for people who often feel voiceless and offer the resources, support, and guidance they need to rebuild their lives. My focus will be on providing access to mental health services, advocating for affordable housing, and addressing the root causes of poverty. I plan to work in both direct service and advocacy roles, ensuring that individuals and communities have the support they need while also pushing for policy changes that address systemic barriers. Whether through case management, community outreach, or policy reform, my ultimate goal is to create lasting, positive change in the lives of those who need it most. Receiving this scholarship would significantly support my education and future aspirations as a social worker. It would alleviate some of the financial burdens associated with my studies, allowing me to focus more on my coursework, field placements, and professional development. With this support, I will be better equipped to pursue my passion for social justice and continue on my path to becoming a compassionate, effective social worker dedicated to helping others.

Inspiration to Teach and How I Plan to Inspire Others I have always believed that teaching is not just about sharing knowledge, but about shaping the future. My journey toward becoming a teacher has been a mix of inspiration, personal growth, and the realization that teaching is not only a career but a calling. As I reflect on what inspired me to enter the field of education, I realize that my experiences—both inside and outside the classroom—have influenced my decision. From my interactions with teachers who impacted my life to my own experiences as a substitute teacher, I have come to understand the profound influence a teacher can have on a student’s life. For me, the spark to become a teacher began in my own school years. I was fortunate enough to have educators who truly cared about their students. I remember one teacher in particular, Mrs. Johnson, who not only taught us the curriculum but also made us feel seen and heard. She had the ability to bring out the best in every student and created an environment where learning was fun and engaging. Mrs. Johnson was more than just a teacher—she was a mentor and a guide. Her positive influence stuck with me throughout my academic journey, and her compassion for her students planted a seed in me: I wanted to be that kind of teacher for others. I wanted to create an environment where students felt safe, supported, and motivated to reach their potential. As I transitioned into adulthood and pursued my studies in psychology, I began to see how my passion for understanding human behavior could be applied in the classroom. Working as a permanent substitute teacher in a special needs middle school class further fueled my desire to become an educator. The challenges of working with students who have unique learning needs were both difficult and rewarding. I found that by adapting my approach and showing patience and understanding, I could make a difference in their academic and personal lives. The students, who often faced significant struggles, taught me as much as I taught them. They showed me the importance of empathy, flexibility, and the need to personalize instruction to meet the diverse needs of every student. One particular moment stands out to me that truly solidified my passion for teaching. It was a day when I helped a student with special needs who was having trouble understanding a lesson. The student was frustrated, and I could sense the anxiety in the room. Instead of pushing through the lesson as planned, I paused and worked with the student one-on-one, breaking down the material into smaller, more manageable parts. The student’s face lit up with understanding, and the feeling of accomplishment was visible. In that moment, I realized that teaching is not about just delivering content; it’s about connecting with the student and creating an environment where learning is accessible to everyone, regardless of their challenges. This experience, along with many others, has inspired me to become a teacher who is patient, adaptable, and committed to creating an inclusive environment where all students feel valued. I want to help students believe in themselves and see their potential, especially those who may have been overlooked or marginalized in traditional educational settings. I believe that every student has the capacity for growth, and my role as a teacher is to provide the support, encouragement, and tools they need to succeed. As I move forward in my career as an educator, I plan to use my experiences and the lessons I’ve learned to inspire my future students. First and foremost, I aim to create a classroom environment where every student feels like they belong. I want to foster an atmosphere of respect, where differences are celebrated, and students feel safe to express themselves without fear of judgment. In addition, I plan to incorporate a variety of teaching methods and strategies to accommodate different learning styles and needs. This includes hands-on activities, collaborative group work, and personalized support to ensure all students can engage with the material and succeed. Furthermore, I am committed to being a lifelong learner myself. As a teacher, I believe it is important to continually improve and adapt to the ever-changing needs of students. Whether through professional development opportunities, collaborating with colleagues, or learning from my students, I am determined to grow as an educator and inspire my students to do the same. I want to show them that learning is a lifelong journey, and that no matter where they start, they can always grow, improve, and achieve their goals. Ultimately, I want my students to walk away from my classroom knowing that they are capable of achieving anything they set their minds to. I want to inspire them to be curious, creative, and resilient. Teaching is not just about preparing students for the next grade level or for standardized tests; it’s about equipping them with the skills they need to navigate the world beyond the classroom and become compassionate, thoughtful individuals. My goal is to provide them with the tools, confidence, and encouragement they need to pursue their dreams, just as my own teachers did for me. In conclusion, my journey to becoming a teacher has been influenced by the educators who made a difference in my life and my own experiences in the classroom. The lessons I’ve learned through my work as a substitute teacher, especially in a special needs environment, have reinforced my commitment to teaching as a vocation. I plan to use my experiences to inspire others by creating a classroom that is inclusive, supportive, and empowering. Through my dedication, adaptability, and passion for education, I hope to make a lasting impact on the students I teach, just as my teachers did for me.

Caregiving, Its Impact on Me, and Why This Scholarship Matters When I was in high school, I never imagined that my future would revolve around caring for others, especially my grandmother, who has been facing mobility issues and mild cognitive decline. This responsibility has not only shaped me into the person I am today but has also become the driving force behind my educational and career goals. As my grandmother's primary caregiver, I assist her with a variety of daily tasks. These tasks include meal preparation, medication management, and helping her with mobility. Additionally, I take her to medical appointments and provide emotional support, which has proven to be just as essential as physical care. I’ve come to understand that caregiving is not just about meeting someone's physical needs but also about providing them with the emotional comfort and companionship that many elderly individuals often lack. This experience has taught me patience, resilience, and the ability to balance responsibilities while remaining compassionate and supportive. This caregiving experience has profoundly shaped my personal and professional life. It has ignited my passion for psychology and motivated me to pursue a career where I can work with families and individuals in caregiving roles. Watching my grandmother struggle with memory loss has made me realize how crucial it is to support mental health and emotional well-being in addition to physical care. My goal is to work in counseling or social services, focusing on elderly care and mental health, and eventually establish a support network for caregivers. This experience has also made me acutely aware of the lack of mental health resources available to caregivers, and I hope to bridge that gap by offering counseling and resources tailored to their unique needs. This scholarship is vital to my journey because, as a first-generation college student, I face significant financial barriers that can make it difficult to focus fully on my studies. Balancing school, work, and caregiving responsibilities has been challenging, and this scholarship would relieve some of the financial pressure I currently face. It would allow me to concentrate on my academic goals and continue my education in psychology, which is the foundation of my aspirations. The scholarship would also enable me to take full advantage of the opportunities at Regent University and pursue research and internships that will provide me with the knowledge and experience needed to make a lasting impact on the field of mental health. In conclusion, caregiving has played a pivotal role in shaping who I am and where I want to go. The experience has not only influenced my career aspirations but has also deepened my commitment to helping others in similar situations. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue pursuing my education without the added stress of financial concerns, bringing me closer to achieving my goal of supporting families and caregivers through mental health services.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been the person that people came to for advice, comfort, or just a listening ear. Whether it was family, friends, or classmates, I found joy in being someone people could trust. I didn’t realize then that this natural compassion and love for helping others would lead me toward my passion for psychology. My name is Jamircale Jones, and I am currently a Psychology major at Regent University. I graduated from Wilcox County High School in 2015, and I am working hard to complete my degree and pursue a career where I can make a real difference in people’s lives. Psychology is not just a subject I study—it is connected to my purpose and future. I became passionate about psychology because I’ve seen first-hand how many people struggle with mental health challenges in silence. Growing up in a small community in Georgia, I noticed that mental health was rarely discussed. People carried their burdens alone, and many suffered in silence because they didn’t have access to counseling or resources. I want to change that. My goal is to use my degree to become a counselor or social worker who advocates for mental health awareness, especially in underserved communities. I want to create safe spaces where people feel heard and supported. I dream of opening a community counseling center that offers affordable mental health services, mentorship programs, and life skills workshops for both youth and adults. Currently, I work as a permanent substitute teacher in a special needs middle school classroom. This experience has taught me patience, understanding, and the importance of meeting people where they are. It has also inspired me to expand my future counseling services to include children and individuals with developmental disabilities. Receiving this scholarship would greatly impact my educational journey. As a first-generation college student, I am working hard to overcome financial obstacles while balancing school and work. This scholarship would relieve some of the financial burden I face and allow me to focus more on my studies and community involvement. It would help me stay on the path to achieving my dream of becoming a mental health advocate and counselor. Psychology is more than just a major to me—it is a calling. I am passionate about breaking the stigma around mental health, especially in rural and minority communities. I want to provide hope, healing, and resources to people who may feel forgotten or misunderstood. I believe that with dedication, education, and faith, I can make a difference in the world around me. This scholarship would not only support my academic goals but would also bring me closer to fulfilling my mission of serving others and promoting mental well-being for all.