As a queer student who has struggled with anxiety and depression since high school, mental health has always been a deeply personal topic for me. Growing up in spaces where being LGBTQIA+ wasn't always accepted made it harder to speak up about what I was going through. I often felt like I had to hide both who I was and how I felt, which only made things worse. It wasn't until I started going to therapy that I began to understand myself better and learn how to manage my mental health in healthier ways. Because of my journey, I've become a strong advocate for therapy and emotional support, especially for people in my community who don't have access to mental health care. Many of my friends and family can't afford therapy or struggle to find resources that fit their needs. I do my best to show up for them, whether that means helping them talk through things, finding low-cost options, or simply being someone they can lean on without judgment. I'm not a professional, but I know how much it can mean to have someone who listens and cares. Mental health plays a significant role in my life as a student. I'm currently working full-time while earning a second degree in Cybersecurity, and the pressure can be intense. Without the tools I've learned through therapy and years of self-reflection, I'd not be able to handle the workload or the stress. I've learned how to set boundaries, check in with myself, and make space for rest and connection when I need it. For me, academic success isn't just about getting good grades; it's also about staying mentally and emotionally well. I also advocate for mental health in my communities. I am a member of multiple Discord and online communities where I have no hesitation in reaching out to someone who is showing signs of struggle. I share resources on these communities that I find helpful for various situations. For example, with the ongoing attack on women's bodily autonomy, I've provided resources and information for those who may need special services and help. My approach to advocacy is simple. I speak honestly about my experiences and make space for others to do the same. I share mental health resources when I can, check in on the people I care about, and try to create a sense of community wherever I go. These small actions help reduce stigma and build a culture where people feel safer being themselves and asking for help. Receiving this scholarship would be a meaningful way to continue my education while also affirming the work I've done to support others. Mental health isn't just important to me; it's something I try to protect and promote in every part of my life.

Empathy is the root of all meaningful change, and it is empathy that guides me in everything I do. As a first-generation college student and a lifelong resident of San Diego, I've seen how systemic inequality touches the lives of those around me, especially within the LGBTQIA+ and immigrant communities I hold close. These experiences have not only shaped my values but have also directed my goals and deepened my commitment to advocacy, care, and justice. I am passionate about three deeply interconnected humanitarian causes: LGBTQIA+ rights, immigration justice, and healthcare equity. These issues are not abstract to me; they are part of my daily life and personal relationships. I identify as LGBTQIA+ and have many loved ones who have struggled with gender dysphoria, societal stigma, and mental health challenges simply for existing as their authentic selves. One of my closest friends, a transgender man, has described the fear and emotional toll of seeking medical care in a system that routinely questions his identity. Witnessing that has opened my eyes to how deeply vulnerable people are when institutions lack empathy. Alarming data supports these issues. According to The Trevor Project (2024), 39 percent of LGBTQ+ youth seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year, including 46 percent of transgender and nonbinary youth. Over 12 percent attempted suicide. Moreover, 90 percent reported that the political climate negatively impacted their mental health. These statistics are not distant; they are reflected in the lives of people I love. Mental health, for many LGBTQIA+ people, is not just about personal resilience but about surviving within a society that still debates their right to exist. Healthcare inaccessibility only worsens these issues. My partner suffers from a chronic autoimmune disease that has, at times, left them partially paralyzed and in constant pain. While they are fortunate to have medical coverage now, navigating the healthcare system is often exhausting, confusing, and disempowering. I have accompanied them to appointments, helped coordinate specialist care, and watched them get denied medications that could have improved their quality of life. This is a common story in the United States, especially among marginalized groups. A recent Gallup and West Health survey found that over 91 million Americans, more than one-third of the population, cannot afford quality healthcare. This includes a disproportionate number of low-income, Black, and Hispanic Americans (Witters & Maese, 2024). These numbers represent millions of people who are being denied their fundamental human right to health and dignity. Immigration is another issue that is deeply personal to me. My mother immigrated to the United States from Canada, and although her journey was relatively smooth, I often think about how different it could have been under today's policies. I imagine a world where my mother could have been denied entry, detained, or separated from her child. Under the Trump administration's "zero-tolerance" policy, over 4,600 children were forcibly separated from their parents, with more than 1,300 still unaccounted for (Human Rights Watch, 2024). The trauma caused by these separations is long-lasting and often irreparable. Growing up in San Diego, a border city rich with cultural diversity and migration stories, I have seen the real-life consequences of immigration policy. Families live in fear of ICE raids, DACA recipients grapple with uncertainty, and undocumented community members are denied access to basic services. The notion of "illegality" dehumanizes people who are simply seeking survival and opportunity (Morris, 2023). When policy strips people of dignity, it fractures the heart of our communities. To help build a better future, I have taken action in both small and meaningful ways. I volunteered with the Kuya Ate Mentorship Program (KAMP), an educational nonprofit organization dedicated to uplifting students of color, particularly within the Pilipinx community. KAMP is a grassroots educational program that works with San Diego high school and middle school students who are enrolled in Filipino language classes and with local college students, recent graduates, and working professionals who serve as volunteer staff and mentors. We visited local high schools, helping young people explore their cultural identities and navigate their educational paths. Some members of the KAMP organization would lead lectures, teaching students about social justice, Filipino cultural history, and critical thinking. At the end of the school year, we hold a special graduation ceremony with family, food, and scholarships to celebrate those who completed their high school education. In high school, I also volunteered at a local hospice care center. There, I helped elderly residents with daily tasks such as serving meals, walking their dogs, or simply sitting and listening. Unfortunately, I had encountered many occasions where older adults have passed away suddenly. It helps to remind myself of the last moments I experienced with them and how they were always in positive spirits and smiling when I was with them. It saddens me to think about how our healthcare systems have failed people in their final moments because they could not afford the help they needed or did not have the luxury of being able to be in an environment where they could receive compassion in their final moments. My values, which are compassion, community, and education, guide every choice I make. Whether I am tutoring classmates, offering free tech services to friends launching small businesses, or helping someone find affirming healthcare resources, I lead with empathy. Meaningful progress comes not just from grand acts of activism but also from everyday decisions to show up, speak out, and lift others when we can. I also believe in dreaming big. One of my long-term goals is to own land and build a sanctuary for mistreated and abandoned animals. As someone who finds healing in caring for others, both human and non-human, I see this dream as a way to extend compassion to the most vulnerable. I also aim to work with organizations that prioritize equity, such as nonprofits advocating for healthcare reform, LGBTQIA+ safety, and immigrant support. With my background in technology and cybersecurity, I aim to leverage my skills to protect vulnerable populations online, combat misinformation, and help secure digital spaces for activism and education. The root causes of the issues I care about, including racism, economic greed, and systemic neglect, are embedded in the very institutions meant to serve us. Our healthcare system prioritizes profit over people. Our justice system criminalizes the poor and protects the powerful. Our housing and education systems continue to reflect a history of exclusion and inequality. These are not broken systems; they are functioning exactly as they were designed. Real justice will require not only reform but also reimagination. Individuals should not be responsible for fixing these systems alone. Our responsibility lies in bettering ourselves and supporting those within our reach. It is the role of communities to uplift one another, and it is the role of governments to create conditions that enable all people to thrive. That means investing in education, ensuring healthcare access, dismantling racist policies, and protecting the rights of marginalized groups with courage and consistency. In conclusion, the interconnectedness of LGBTQIA+ rights, immigration justice, and healthcare equity reveals both the depth of injustice in our society and the hope we must hold on to. Through empathy, education, and sustained community engagement, we can build a future rooted in dignity and compassion. My life's purpose is to contribute to that future, not with empty promises but with meaningful action, grounded advocacy, and the deep belief that a kinder world is possible and worth fighting for. References Human Rights Watch. (2024, December 16). US: Lasting harm from family separation at border. https://www.hrw.org/news/2024/12/16/us-lasting-harm-family-separation-border Morris, T. (2023, May 18). Doctor of ministry grad works to keep families safe. Fordham News. https://news.fordham.edu/living-the-mission/doctoral-ministry-grad-works-to-keep-families-safe/ The Trevor Project. (2024). 2024 U.S. National Survey on the Mental Health of LGBTQ+ Young People. https://www.thetrevorproject.org/survey-2024 Witters, D., & Maese, E. (2025, April 2). In U.S., inability to pay for care, medicine hits new high. Gallup. https://news.gallup.com/poll/658148/inability-pay-care-medicine-hits-new-high.aspx

My interest in system security began early in high school with the growing interest and expansion of the internet. As I taught myself programming languages like Python and AutoIt, I became increasingly interested in testing the limits of websites and applications, often exploring them for vulnerabilities to understand how they worked and how they could be improved. At the time, Cybersecurity was still an emerging field, so I couldn't pursue any formal education in the subject. This led me to study the next closest topic, Computer Science, gaining more knowledge and experience with networking, application development, and security practices. With a strong foundation in computer science and nine years of experience as a professional software developer, I am now pursuing a transition into Cybersecurity. In this field, I can apply my technical skills and personal passions to securing the systems I once helped build by staying ahead of real-world cyber risks. I am actively enrolled to complete an Associate's degree in Cybersecurity and to enter San Diego City College's Bachelor's Program for Cybersecurity in Fall 2026. Despite working full-time, I have committed to a full-time academic schedule and am on track to make the Dean's List in my first academic year back at college. I've also taken on additional educational challenges through honors coursework and preparing for industry-recognized certifications to strengthen my credentials and practical skills. These efforts reflect my dedication to academic excellence and my readiness to succeed in a rapidly evolving field where both technical expertise and adaptability are key. In the next five to ten years, I envision myself working in a role focused on Security Operations or Penetration Testing, ideally within an organization where I can help identify vulnerabilities and respond to active threats in real time. Earning a Master's in Information Security—ideally from a leading institution such as Georgia Tech or UC Berkeley—is a key step in achieving my long-term career goals. I'm particularly drawn to combining technical leadership with mentorship and advocacy, especially for underrepresented groups in tech. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I've faced the isolating challenge of not feeling fully seen or safe to be open in many personal and professional spaces. Most of my family and many of my peers are unaware of this part of my identity, and as a result, my personal circles have grown smaller in recent years. This sense of invisibility has only deepened my resolve to create more inclusive and affirming environments—especially in Cybersecurity, a field that still lacks visible queer representation. I want to be the kind of leader I once needed: someone who succeeds not despite their identity, but alongside it. This scholarship would significantly impact my academic and professional journey. Balancing full-time employment with a demanding academic workload is a challenge, and financial assistance would allow me to reduce outside pressures and focus more fully on developing the knowledge and skills that will define my career. At the same time, it would affirm the value of diverse voices in the tech industry, encouraging me to keep showing up—authentically and ambitiously—despite the pressures to stay silent. By supporting my education, this scholarship would help me become not only a defender of secure infrastructure but also an advocate for inclusion and mentorship in tech.