My motivation to pursue higher education began with my mother, a Certified Nursing Assistant who works two jobs, often completing twelve-hour shifts, yet still comes home to care for our family. She has always loved learning and believed deeply in the power of education. Although she was unable to pursue the educational opportunities she wanted for herself, she made it her priority to ensure her children could. She has poured her time, energy, and well-being into giving us opportunities she never had. Watching her taught me that education is more than earning a degree; it is an opportunity to build a better future and use what you learn to serve others. As the child of Haitian immigrants and a first-generation college student, I have carried that lesson throughout my educational journey. While completing my nursing prerequisites, I worked as a preschool teacher, balancing long workdays with assignments, exams, and the demands of preparing for nursing school. There were moments when the uncertainty felt overwhelming, but I reminded myself of my mother's example. She taught me that commitment means continuing to show up, even when you are exhausted and the outcome is not guaranteed. That lesson became especially meaningful when I decided not to return to my preschool job because I intended to pursue nursing, even though I had not yet received an acceptance. It was a leap of faith, but I chose to trust the preparation and determination I had invested in my future. Months later, I received my acceptance into the University of Florida's nursing program. Today, I am in my first semester, turning that long-held ambition into reality. Reaching this milestone has been exciting, but it has also introduced the financial challenges that come with pursuing higher education. I currently rely on student loans to cover my educational and living expenses. Although I am grateful to have the opportunity to pursue nursing, financing my education creates an additional responsibility as I work toward my degree. I want to give my nursing education the time and attention it deserves, from mastering complex coursework to developing the clinical judgment necessary to care for patients safely and compassionately. Receiving this scholarship would help ease that financial burden and reduce the amount I need to rely on student loans. It would give me greater financial breathing room to focus on my studies, strengthen my clinical foundation, and prepare for the responsibilities of caring for patients. More than financial assistance, this scholarship would be an investment in a student who is committed to turning educational opportunity into meaningful service. My mother's work as a CNA has shown me that healthcare is about more than treating illness. It is about preserving dignity, offering reassurance, and supporting people during vulnerable moments. As a future nurse, I hope to provide that same compassion to my patients and encourage other students, particularly those from immigrant and underrepresented backgrounds, to pursue their educational goals even when the path feels uncertain. Ultimately, this journey is about more than earning a degree. It is about honoring my mother's sacrifices by making the most of the opportunities she worked so hard to give me. Although she could not pursue every educational dream of her own, she made sure education remained a priority for her children. I hope to carry her example into my nursing career by showing up for patients with the same consistency, compassion, and dedication she has demonstrated throughout her life. This scholarship would help me continue that journey, transforming my mother's sacrifices and my own determination into a lifetime of service to others.

Most people do not expect to become a caregiver in high school. I certainly did not. Growing up, my grandparents traveled frequently between Haiti and the United States. Whenever they visited, our home filled with the smell of my grandmother’s breakfast and stories about their lives. They were active, independent, and inseparable. I never imagined that one day, I would become responsible for helping care for them. In 2021, my grandmother suffered a stroke. Overnight, the woman who had cared for everyone else became dependent on others for nearly everything. I began helping with her daily care, learning to assist with hygiene, manage medications, and protect her dignity when she could no longer care for herself. Then my grandfather was diagnosed with aggressive prostate cancer. Balancing school with caring for two grandparents was overwhelming, but I rarely spoke about the weight I carried. I simply kept showing up. Caring for my grandmother taught me to look beyond a person's diagnosis. As we spent time together, I learned stories about her childhood in Haiti, including how she never learned to read because her family prioritized educating her brothers. I realized how much of her life I had never known. She was not simply a stroke patient; she was a woman with a lifetime of stories, sacrifices, and dreams. My grandfather taught me a different lesson. He resisted medications and medical advice, often testing my patience. But beneath his stubbornness was the same man who filled our home with jokes and laughter. When COVID-19 worsened his condition, he told me, “I am ready to be with the Lord.” A few days before my birthday, he passed away. I continued caring for my grandmother for three more years, until she passed away in January 2024. Losing them both was heartbreaking, but their lives taught me something I will carry into nursing: I cannot always change someone's outcome, but I can change how they experience the journey. I could not cure their illnesses, but I could help them feel safe, heard, respected, and loved. That is the kind of nurse I hope to become. I want to recognize the person behind the patient, offer comfort when answers are limited, and treat every individual with compassion and dignity. Receiving the Ellen Randolph Scholarship would ease the financial burden of my nursing education and help me focus on becoming the nurse my grandparents inspired me to be. I hope to honor Ellen's legacy by providing the kind of care that reminds patients they are more than their illnesses and that they never have to face their most vulnerable moments feeling alone. I cannot give my grandparents one more conversation, but I can honor them through the care I give others. They taught me that sometimes the greatest gift we can offer another person is our presence. As a future nurse, I hope to give that gift to every patient entrusted to my care.

Growing up, I spent more time in doctors’ offices than on playgrounds. While other children worried about birthday parties and recess, I worried about blood sugar readings, medications, and doctor’s appointments. At a young age, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and hypertension, conditions that are uncommon in children. I struggled to understand why my childhood looked different from everyone else’s. As my health worsened, I began to feel defined by my diagnoses rather than by the person I wanted to become. By the time I was ten years old, my A1C had reached 15.3, eventually climbing to 16. I was prescribed medications, insulin, and a continuous glucose monitor, but I resisted managing my condition. I did not want to be different, and I was tired of feeling as though my life revolved around being sick. During one appointment, my endocrinologist explained the seriousness of my condition and the consequences of continuing to neglect my health. I left that appointment in tears, frightened by what my future might hold. Looking back, however, that moment became the beginning of a transformation. With determination, consistency, and support from healthcare professionals, I lowered my A1C from 16 to 5.6. My journey taught me that managing a chronic illness requires more than medication and medical appointments. It requires education, encouragement, patience, and someone who understands the emotional weight of living with a condition that never takes a day off. The nurses who cared for me showed me that I was more than my medical history. They celebrated my progress, explained my treatment, and reminded me that my diagnosis did not have to determine my future. Their compassion inspired me to pursue pediatric nursing so I can offer other children the same hope they gave me. My experience as a preschool teacher has strengthened this purpose. Working with young children has taught me how to build trust, communicate patiently, and recognize when a child needs reassurance rather than correction. As a Haitian American, I have also used my knowledge of Haitian Creole to help newly arrived Haitian students feel more comfortable adjusting to life in the United States. These experiences have shown me that children thrive when they feel safe, understood, and valued. I hope to bring that same understanding to children navigating chronic illnesses and to families who may feel overwhelmed by unfamiliar medical information. This fall, I will attend the University of Florida’s College of Nursing to develop the knowledge and clinical skills necessary to care for children living with diabetes and other chronic autoimmune conditions. As a pediatric nurse, I plan to educate families about disease management, encourage children to participate in their own care, and advocate for patients who face language barriers, financial difficulties, or limited access to healthcare. I also want to help reduce the stigma surrounding chronic illness by reminding young patients that they can pursue their dreams while managing their health. I cannot change the childhood I experienced, but I can use it to make another child’s journey less frightening. My greatest hope is that my future patients will feel seen as children first and patients second. I want them to know that their diagnosis does not diminish their potential and that they deserve to experience the joys of childhood without feeling ashamed of their health challenges. The care that once helped me reclaim my future is the care I hope to provide to others. Through pediatric nursing, I plan to turn my struggles into compassion, my experiences into understanding, and my healing into hope for every child who needs someone to believe in them.

My name, Jasline, means "gift from God." Growing up, I thought my name was the gift. As I've gotten older, I've realized the greatest gifts in my life have been the people who believed in me before I believed in myself. Their faith, sacrifices, and encouragement shaped not only who I am but also who I hope to become. As the daughter of Haitian immigrants and a first-generation college student, I was raised to see education as a privilege, never a guarantee. My parents often shared stories of walking long distances to school in Haiti because they believed education was worth every sacrifice. Even though neither of them had the opportunity to attend college, they made sure I understood that every door opened for me was built on generations of perseverance. Their example taught me that success is not something you keep—it is something you use to create opportunities for others. Life challenged that lesson early. I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes and hypertension as a child, and suddenly my days revolved around medications, doctor's appointments, and blood sugar checks instead of simply being a kid. During that time, nurses and physicians became more than healthcare providers; they became mentors. They encouraged me when I felt discouraged and reminded me that my diagnosis did not determine my future. With their support, I lowered my A1C from 16 to 5.6. More importantly, they gave me confidence. That experience inspired my dream of becoming a pediatric nurse who helps children see possibilities beyond their diagnoses. Growing up in Pine Hills, Florida, I also learned that a community is defined by people, not by stereotypes. While others saw my neighborhood through headlines, I saw hardworking families, dedicated teachers, compassionate healthcare workers, and neighbors who always found ways to help one another. My mother embodied that spirit every day. As a certified nursing assistant for more than twenty-five years, often working two jobs, she cared for her patients with dignity while still finding time to serve others in our community. Watching her taught me that leadership begins with compassion and that true strength is measured by how you lift others. Because so many people invested in me, I have made it my mission to invest in others. Through volunteering at food distributions, serving individuals experiencing homelessness, and working as a preschool teacher, I have discovered that the smallest acts of kindness often leave the greatest impact. One of my most meaningful experiences has been supporting Haitian children who recently arrived in the United States. Speaking Haitian Creole allowed me to comfort them, help them find their voices, and remind them that they belonged. In those moments, I understood the power of simply being someone who understands. This fall, I will attend the University of Florida's College of Nursing. My goal is to become the kind of nurse who not only treats illness but also gives children and families hope. Receiving the Khalil Mack Foundation Scholarship would ease the financial burden of pursuing that dream, but more importantly, it would allow me to continue the cycle of generosity that has shaped my life. The greatest gift I have received has never been an opportunity itself—it has been people who chose to invest in me. My purpose is to honor those gifts by becoming someone who invests in the next generation