There was a moment in my life when my education came to a complete standstill, not because of a lack of effort or desire, but because of finances. During my time in community college, I reached a point where I could no longer pay for my classes. Eventually, I was fully rescinded from my course schedule. My classes were dropped, my academic plans were halted, and the door I had been walking toward suddenly felt firmly shut. In that season, I had exhausted every logical option. I applied for aid, searched for solutions, and tried to reason my way forward. When nothing worked, all I had left was prayer. I remember coming before God not with confidence in an outcome, but with honesty and surrender. I prayed not just for money, but for clarity, peace, and direction. I asked the Lord to open a door if continuing school was truly part of His plan for me—and to help me trust Him if it wasn’t. What followed reminded me that God’s provision rarely looks the way we expect it to. At the very last minute, through an outlet I never would have thought to look toward, the Lord provided the funds necessary for me to continue my education, if only for a little while longer. It wasn’t excess. It wasn’t permanent security. But it was enough. Enough to register again. Enough to keep going. Enough to remind me that God was present, attentive, and faithful. That experience reshaped my understanding of faith. I learned that faith is not passive waiting, but active trust; continuing to show up even when circumstances suggest you shouldn’t. It taught me that God is not limited by systems, deadlines, or human expectations. When every door seemed closed, He created one that could not be explained away by coincidence or planning. As my Pastor always says: If you can explain it--God didn't do it. The timing was too precise, and the source too unexpected, for me to doubt His hand in it. This moment mirrors the legacy of Nabi Nicole in a deeply meaningful way. Her life reflected a faith that was lived, not just spoken, a faith that served others, uplifted youth, and trusted God in both visible and unseen ways. Like Nabi, I have learned that faith is most powerful when it is relied upon in moments of uncertainty, not comfort. Relying on God during that time did not just allow me to continue school, it strengthened my relationship with Him and reaffirmed my calling to walk by faith rather than fear. It reminded me that obedience sometimes means taking one more step, even when the path ahead is unclear. This scholarship represents more than financial support. It represents shared faith, resilience, and trust in God’s provision. I carry that lesson with me in every challenge I face, knowing that the same God who opened that door will continue to guide my steps, just as He did for Nabi Nicole throughout her life of service and devotion.

“Are You Satisfied?” by Marina and The Diamonds is a favorite song, describing the pressure to conform and the lingering hunger for something more. In her song, Marina challenges the expectations imposed upon her, a struggle I deeply relate to. Growing up as a first-generation daughter in a Latino family, I was raised with the assumption that I would become a teenage mother and marry young for stability and comfort. However, like Marina, I’ve always longed for more than the life others imagined for me. My name is Juliette Elias. I’m eighteen years old and currently a college sophomore, transferring from Middlesex College to Rutgers University. My path has been anything but traditional. While starting college early gave me a head start, it also meant walking away from the major milestones of high school: prom, senior sunrise, junior prom, graduation. Leaving before my final years was not a decision I took lightly, it was a sacrifice. To find peace with it, I had to ask myself what mattered more: the temporary joy of high school, or the opportunity to build a future on my own terms. That choice revealed the kind of person I strive to be, ambitious, disciplined, and unwilling to settle for the ordinary. With my GED in hand, I enrolled full-time at Middlesex College, determined to take control of my education. Along the way, I’ve sought out opportunities to serve and lead. As a campus tour guide, I help prospective students feel welcomed, offering honest insights to ease their transition into college. The role strengthened my confidence and public speaking, and connected me with a community of peers who made every tour feel less like a task and more like a shared moment. I was also invited to join the Student Board Advisory Committee, where I represent the Computer Science department. In this role, I voice student concerns, such as limited resources and the lack of hands-on projects, to ensure that their needs are heard and addressed. Beyond campus, I volunteer at my local church, where I lead preschoolers through activities, teach Bible verses, and help them understand their lessons. These experiences have deepened my empathy, sharpened my communication, and shaped my commitment to giving back. I’m majoring in Business Information Technology, a field that connects technical teams with business stakeholders. I believe technology, when applied with purpose, can transform communities. That belief inspired my dream of launching a nonprofit called To the Raíz ("To the Root"). The program would connect Latino youth to real-world STEM experiences and mentorship, while also teaching life skills schools often overlook, like how to build databases for local businesses, understand credit, or file taxes. For example, a student could partner with a neighborhood shop to complete a tech project that strengthens their resume and impacts their community. The goal is not only to prepare students for the workforce, but to help them lead, build, and give back. If my education were funded, I would use my personal income to bring To the Raíz to life. Free from financial pressure, I could dedicate more time and resources to creating the kind of support system I once needed. I don’t just want to succeed, I want to make room for others to rise with me.

“Are You Satisfied?” by Marina and The Diamonds is a favorite song of mine; describing the pressure to conform and the lingering hunger for something more in life. In her song, Marina challenges the expectations imposed upon her, a struggle I deeply relate to. Growing up as a first-generation daughter in a Latino family, I was raised with the assumption that I would become a teenage mother and marry young for stability and comfort. However, like Marina, I have always longed for more than the life others imagined for me. My name is Juliette Elias. I am eighteen years old and currently a college sophomore transferring from Middlesex College to Rutgers University. My path has been anything but traditional. I left high school during my junior year, earned my GED, and enrolled in college full-time. My family is mainly made up of immigrants, but we are somehow extremely patriotic. We embrace our American title, freedoms, and our overlooked privileges--like our safety thanks to our military. This scholarship caught my attention at the mention of veteran. Although none of my intermediate family members have served, I have grown the deepest respect for our Marines, Air Force, Army, Navy, Coast Guard and Space Force. This began after meeting my now boyfriend, Caleb Santiago, being sent out to Air Force basic training in August 2025. He has devoted his childhood and pre-adolescent years to prepare for his career in the military. His determination, knowledge, and passion for our country ignited a sincere appreciation for the men and women who also sacrifice their time, efforts, and ultimately their lives to serve. Since dating Caleb, I have learned that the military and army are in fact, not the same thing, I have memorized the phonetic alphabet (that I may never use), ranging from Alpha to Zulu. Lastly, I have discovered the brother-like rivalry between the Marine Corps and the Air Force: the ones who eat crayons and the others whose basic training is much like a tea party. I hope to have the privilege to be selected for this scholarship to have one more thing to thank the military for. Ultimately, it would be an honor for my education to be supported by an individual whose time was spent protecting my rights. I major in Business Information Technology, which is the bridge between stakeholders and executives to IT teams and programmers. Information technology, when advanced and applied responsibly, has the power to empower societies, bridge gaps, and provide resources at a scale that was previously unimaginable. Inspired by the potential of technology to make a positive impact, I have dreams beyond my own success. I hope to launch a nonprofit called To the Raiz (To the Root), a program designed to connect Latino youth with real-world experiences in STEM fields and mentorship opportunities. This program aims to provide young people with practical skills that schools often overlook, like building databases for local businesses, understanding how credit works, or learning to file taxes. For example, a Latino student interested in technology could partner with a small business in their community to build a project that not only develops their technical skills but also creates something tangible to include on their resume or portfolio. Beyond just technical training, To the Raiz would focus on preparing students for the job market and empowering them to give back to their communities. The program reflects my belief that education should be all-inclusive and directly connected to real-life success.

Being born into a Hispanic family means you grow up surrounded by extra holidays, delicious food, and unforgettable music. The house is always filled with rhythm, laughter, and the aroma of meals that have been passed down for generations. But growing up in this environment also means feeling different from others outside of it. It means learning early on that the world doesn’t always view your culture with the same warmth you do. Even so, I couldn’t have asked for a better mother or father. The richness of my heritage and the values they instilled in me are things I carry with pride. The good and the bad of our cultural norms taught me to see the world from many different angles. One of the most important perspectives my parents shared with me was the contrast between being accepted and being rejected. As immigrants, they’ve struggled with the idea of belonging for as long as they’ve lived in this country. From job interviews where they were overlooked, to moments where their accents were mocked, they’ve seen how harsh and isolating it can be to feel like an outsider. Through every win and every setback, they used their experiences to comfort me and prepare me for the moments when I, too, would feel like I didn’t belong. Out of eight kids, I’m the youngest and the darkest. I owe my color palette to my Salvadoran father. From elementary school to high school, my skin tone was rarely ignored. It didn’t matter how kind or smart I was, some people only saw what made me different. My parents’ hearts broke each time I came home crying, whether it was because the girls left me out of their game of tag, or because the boys found new ways to insult me with made-up names. But there was always comfort waiting at home. With a warm embrace and a plate of enchiladas at the table, I was reminded of certain truths that became my armor. First, my skin color came from my mother’s love for my father’s complexion. If it was beautiful to her, then it is beautiful to me. Second, just like there was no clear reason behind the discrimination my family faced, there would be times when I’d experience cruelty without explanation. And finally, someone who says, “She’s too strange to be my friend,” is simply clearing the way for someone else to say, “She’s exactly the friend I’ve been looking for.”

“Are You Satisfied?” by Marina and The Diamonds is a powerful reflection on the pressure to conform and the lingering hunger for something more in life. In her song, Marina challenges the expectations imposed upon her, a struggle I deeply relate to. Growing up as a first-generation daughter in a Latino family, I was raised with the assumption that I would become a teenage mother and marry young for stability and comfort. However, like Marina, I have always longed for more than the life others imagined for me. My name is Juliette Elias. I am eighteen years old and currently a college sophomore transferring from Middlesex College to Rutgers University. My path has been anything but traditional. I left high school during my junior year, earned my GED, and enrolled in college full-time. In the opening line of her song, Marina asks, “Was I meant to feel happy that my life was just about to change?” That question echoes in my own experience. While starting college early gave me a head start and many advantages, it also meant walking away from some of the most memorable milestones of high school: senior year. Leaving high school before my final year was not a decision I took lightly. It was a sacrifice. To find peace with that sacrifice, I had to ask myself what truly mattered: the chance experience high school or the opportunity to pave my own path to success. My choice was a defining moment in my life. It revealed the kind of person I strive be--ambitious, disciplined, and unwilling to settle for the ordinary or the expectations imposed on me. When I was younger, the word “technology” conjured images from movies: shadowy figures hunched over computers, screens flickering with streams of ones and zeros, hackers cracking secret codes and wielding invisible power. This painted technology as a mysterious and almost magical force, controlled only by a select few gifted minds. For the longest time, I never imagined pursuing technology myself. In fact, I was intimidated by the field, mostly because I have always had a complicated relationship with numbers. Since pre-algebra in eighth grade, math has been the bane of every report card. It was the subject I dreaded most, the one that challenged me and sometimes made me question my own abilities. So, when I considered technology as a possible major and career path, I felt a deep sense of fear and doubt. However, instead of shying away, I decided to confront my fear head-on. I resolved to conquer math because I knew that if I wanted to succeed in technology, I had to be willing to face my weaknesses. That determination has paid off. STEM became more than just an academic pursuit—it became a space where I could reinvent myself. It gave me a newfound confidence, a sense of boldness that I had not felt before. Technology is one of the fastest-changing industries in the world. Unlike fields such as construction, finance, or law, which evolve more steadily, technology is volatile and constantly improving. When I was a child, I could not imagine wireless headphones or comprehend the concept of a database. Today, these technologies shape our daily lives and connect us globally. Information technology, when advanced and applied responsibly, has the power to empower societies, bridge gaps, and provide resources at a scale that was previously unimaginable. Inspired by the potential of technology to make a positive impact, I have dreams beyond my own success. I hope to launch a nonprofit called To the Raiz (To the Root), a program designed to connect Latino youth with real-world experiences in STEM fields and mentorship opportunities. This program aims to provide young people with practical skills that schools often overlook, like building databases for local businesses, understanding how credit works, or learning to file taxes. For example, a Latino student interested in technology could partner with a small business in their community to build a project that not only develops their technical skills but also creates something tangible to include on their resume or portfolio. Beyond just technical training, To the Raiz would focus on preparing students for the job market and empowering them to give back to their communities. The program reflects my belief that education should be all-inclusive and directly connected to real-life success. Still, despite these aspirations and progress, the greatest challenge I continue to face is my own pride. When I started college at sixteen, I moved away from my parents to live with my cousin and his family. My cousin has been a mentor through offering guidance, support, and a place to live rent-free. I am incredibly grateful for his generosity. However, I allowed myself to become entitled. I neglected to contribute to household chores, my work quality slipped, and I told little white lies about inconsequential things. I took his kindness for granted. This behavior does not reflect who I want to be. Recognizing my faults, I am taking active steps to change. I have begun taking accountability for my expenses, scheduling time to help with housework, and have apologized sincerely to my cousin. My journey defying expectations, embracing challenges, pursuing growth, and owning my flaws has shaped me into the person I am today. It has taught me the value of ambition sprinkled with humility, and the importance of striving not just for personal success, but to uplift others along the way. Like Marina’s song, I am still wrestling with the question of satisfaction, but I have learned that true fulfillment comes from constantly pushing beyond what is expected and forging a path that is uniquely mine. This is the life I choose, the legacy I want to leave.