My name is Kamrynn Jacobs, and I am a high school senior with plans to major in biology and become a pediatric dentist. I’ve always been a caring person, but I didn’t realize how much I wanted to help others through healthcare until my life took some unexpected turns. I’ve experienced challenges that have shaped my perspective in ways that textbooks never could. When I was younger, I lost my grandmother—someone I was very close to—after she struggled with mental illness. At the time, I was asked to help remind her to take her medication, and when she passed away, I blamed myself. I was only ten years old, but I carried guilt for years. It was the first time I felt the weight of responsibility, the importance of health, and the heartbreak of losing someone before you're ready. In 2022, my family was shaken again when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s my best friend and the strongest person I know. Seeing her battle cancer was one of the hardest things I’ve been through, but it showed me how much kindness and support matter during medical treatment. I watched doctors, nurses, and technicians treat her with patience, empathy, and respect. Their care brought her back to us. That inspired me to want to be a part of that same kind of healing for other families. That’s why I want to go into pediatric dentistry—not just to clean teeth, but to make kids feel safe and seen. I remember how comforting it was to visit my own pediatric dentist. The office felt like a happy place, even during stressful moments. I want to create that same environment for children who may be scared, anxious, or in pain. I want them to walk in nervous and leave smiling. That’s the kind of impact I want to have—one small act of comfort at a time. But it’s not just about my future patients. I also care about my community. I’ve helped organize mental health awareness events, worked with students with special needs through Armor Knights, and spoken up when I’ve seen unfairness or challenges that others were afraid to talk about. I believe that impact doesn’t always mean a big platform. Sometimes it’s about being consistent, thoughtful, and willing to lead with kindness. As a Black woman entering the dental field, I’m also aware that I represent a very small percentage of my future profession. That pushes me even more. I want to inspire younger girls who look like me to know that they can chase any dream—even the ones that seem far away. I want to open my own pediatric dental practice one day, not just as a job, but as a safe place where kids and families can feel valued. The impact I plan to make isn’t about fame or recognition. It’s about showing up, serving others, and being someone people can count on. I want to use my story and my skills to make a difference, whether it’s one child in a dental chair or one student watching me pursue my dreams and realizing they can, too. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity. I’m excited about my future, and I’m ready to do the work that it takes to make a real difference in the world—starting with my community, one smile at a time.

The event that has had the most dramatic impact on my life was my mother’s diagnosis with breast cancer in 2022. I was in eighth grade, getting ready for morning basketball workouts like any normal day, when I noticed a bump on her chest. When I asked what it was, she told me the words no daughter ever wants to hear: “It’s cancer.” Time felt like it stopped. At that moment, I thought cancer only meant death. I thought I was going to lose my mom—my best friend, my hero, the person who has been my biggest supporter since the day I was born. I cried, and I couldn’t focus on anything else, but my mom, being the strong woman she is, still made me go to school and to my workout. I look back on that day with pride. Even though I was terrified, I showed up. And since then, that’s what I’ve tried to keep doing—showing up, doing my best, and trusting God to carry me through the hard parts. Watching my mom go through treatment changed me. I watched her lose her hair, her energy, and some days, even her smile—but never her faith. She stayed strong for me and my siblings. She never let her sickness make her bitter. Instead, she became more focused on faith, family, and healing. That experience made me fall in love with healthcare. It made me want to help others the way doctors, nurses, and caregivers helped her. Now, I’m preparing to major in biology and become a pediatric dentist. I want to help children feel safe and seen when they come into a dental office. I also want to one day host community events where families can come together, learn about dental care, and feel supported. Bringing people together is something I’ve always loved. I’ve helped organize school events and volunteered for mental health awareness walks. I like being the person who makes others feel included. My faith also deepened during this time. I prayed constantly—sometimes out loud, sometimes in silence. I prayed over my mom, my family, and even myself when I felt like I couldn’t carry the weight anymore. I believe God allowed me to walk through that storm so that I could come out stronger and more compassionate toward others. My mom is now cancer-free, and I thank God every single day for her healing. Receiving this scholarship would help ease the financial burden on my family and give me the opportunity to keep showing up—not just for myself, but for others. I want to make an impact like my mom did. Her strength, love, and faith didn’t just help her survive cancer—it helped shape the person I’m becoming. Thank you for honoring someone like Shanique Gravely, whose life and purpose remind me so much of my mother. I hope to carry that same spirit of faith, family, and service in my own journey.

Motivated and high-achieving students from disadvantaged backgrounds deserve scholarships and grants because we often have to work twice as hard for the same opportunities. Our stories aren’t built on privilege or access — they’re built on late nights, early mornings, sacrifice, and grit. We don’t take education for granted because we know how much it can change not just our lives, but our families’ futures too. My name is Kamrynn, and I’m a high school senior with dreams of becoming a pediatric dentist. I plan to major in biology on the pre-dental track, but that journey hasn’t been easy. In 2022, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. At the time, I was just a kid trying to keep up with school while watching my entire world shift. My mom was my everything — my support system, my encourager — and seeing her go through treatment was terrifying. But I kept showing up to school, maintained my grades, and leaned on my faith to keep moving forward. That experience didn’t break me — it motivated me. I became interested in healthcare and started thinking seriously about how I could make a difference. I want to open my own dental practice, especially in underserved communities, where kids don’t always have access to proper dental care. I want to create a space that feels safe, kind, and joyful — just like the dentist offices I loved as a child. Financially, my family hasn’t had the ability to save for college. I’m one of multiple siblings, and with my brother already in college, money is tight. I don’t blame my parents — they’ve always done the best they could with what they had. That’s why this grant would mean so much. It would relieve some of the stress that hangs over our heads and allow me to focus fully on school and preparing for my future. I’ve worked hard, stayed consistent, and stayed focused even when things were tough. I’ve taken college courses, participated in community service, and helped support classmates through cheer and special education inclusion programs at my school. I know I have the heart, the work ethic, and the potential — I just need the support to keep going. I hope you’ll see that investing in me is an investment in someone who’s already committed to giving back.

Although I attend Justin F. Kimball High School and not South Oak Cliff, I still represent the same Oak Cliff community that raised, challenged, and inspired me. At Kimball, I’ve grown up surrounded by students who are full of potential and staff members who don’t let us forget that. Being a student here has made me believe I can achieve anything I put my mind to—and more importantly, that I have a responsibility to uplift others along the way. Kimball High School pushed me to take my goals seriously. I want to become a pediatric dentist, and I plan to major in biology on the pre-dental track. My love for healthcare started when I watched my mother go through breast cancer treatment. I was in middle school, but I remember the way the doctors and nurses cared for her with patience and empathy. That experience shaped everything I want to be in the future. Being a dentist isn’t just about cleaning teeth—it’s about helping kids feel safe, building trust with families, and showing up for your community with consistency and care. At Kimball, I’ve learned what it means to be part of something bigger than myself. I’ve served in the Armor Knights inclusion group, where we help students with special needs feel supported and seen. I’ve been part of mental health walks, volunteered my time to help others, and cheered on my peers not just in school spirit but in life. I try to show kindness and compassion wherever I go because I know what it feels like to need support—and I know how far it can go. As a student from Oak Cliff, I’m aware of the statistics. Fewer than 4% of dentists in the U.S. are Black, and even fewer are Black women in pediatric specialties. That motivates me. I don’t just want to get a degree—I want to represent my neighborhood, my school, and young girls who look like me and wonder if there’s a space for them in healthcare. My answer to them is yes. Mrs. Yvonne Moss’s legacy means something to me because she represents what many students in Oak Cliff grow up seeing: women of strength who carry entire communities on their shoulders. Her commitment to education and her continued support of students—especially while being a cancer survivor—reminds me of my own mother’s resilience and the generations of Black women who fight for the next one. I may not have walked the halls of SOC, but I come from the same community. I’ve experienced the same pride, the same challenges, and the same motivation to break barriers. I want to use my education to give back to Oak Cliff—to open my own dental practice and to mentor students who don’t think college or a medical career is possible for them. This scholarship would help lighten the financial load for my family, and it would give me the chance to continue my journey of learning, leading, and giving—just like Mrs. Moss did.

My name is Kamrynn, and I’m a high school senior preparing to pursue a career in pediatric dentistry. I plan to major in biology and follow a pre-dental track, with dreams of opening my own dental practice one day. But my story didn’t start in a classroom or a lab — it started in hospital waiting rooms, quiet car rides, and one very ordinary morning when my life changed. When I was in middle school, my mom was diagnosed with a serious illness. I remember seeing her body change during treatment—her hair, her face, her energy. I was scared, overwhelmed, and unsure of the future. But through it all, she showed incredible strength. She still pushed me to go to school, to show up for myself, and to stay focused on my dreams. Watching her heal, and seeing the medical professionals who supported her with kindness and skill, made me realize I wanted to be part of that world. It made me realize that healthcare isn’t just about science—it’s about heart. I chose dentistry because I want to bring that same mix of science and compassion into other people’s lives. I specifically want to work with children, because I know how powerful early experiences are. I want my future practice to be a safe, joyful space where kids—especially Black and Brown kids—feel seen, valued, and cared for. As a future Black woman in dentistry, I represent a very small percentage of the field. According to the American Dental Association, only around 4% of U.S. dentists are Black, and the number is even smaller when you narrow it down to women in pediatric specialties. That fact motivates me, not discourages me. It reminds me that I’m not just working toward a career—I’m working to increase representation, break generational cycles, and be a face that younger girls can relate to and believe in. I come from a family that knows the power of service. My mom owns a mental health practice that supports people in underserved communities, and I’ve seen firsthand how much of a difference it makes when people feel heard and understood. I want to carry that same spirit into my work. I plan to offer free dental education days, serve in mobile clinics, and eventually mentor other young students of color who are interested in healthcare. In my school, I’m already involved in organizations like Armor Knights, where I support students with special needs, and I participate in community mental health walks to raise awareness. I believe real impact starts with small acts—consistency, kindness, and the courage to be visible in spaces where we’re often underrepresented. To the next generation of Black students thinking about medicine or STEM, I want to say: you belong here. Even when it feels like the odds are against you, you are the future of every space you step into. I’m not just studying to become a dentist—I’m studying to be proof that our stories, our presence, and our brilliance matter.

Faith became real to me when everything else in my life started to feel unreal. I was in eighth grade, getting ready for my usual early morning basketball workouts, when I saw something that shook my world. My mom was in the bathroom getting ready, and I noticed a lump on her chest. When I asked her what it was, she looked me in the eye and said, “It’s cancer.” I froze. Everything around me went silent. I had heard the word “cancer” before, but in my mind, it always meant death. I didn’t know what kind it was, how serious it was, or what would happen next. I just knew my mom was sick—and that thought alone broke me. She was my best friend, my support system, the person who made everything feel okay. And suddenly, she wasn’t okay. That morning, I cried. A lot. She tried to calm me down, but I was overwhelmed. All I could think was, How much time do I have left with her? What if God takes her away from me? But even through my fear, I prayed. I didn’t know what else to do. I asked God to protect her. I asked Him to give her strength, and to give me peace. I didn’t always feel strong or brave. Most days, I went to school holding everything in. I smiled when I needed to. I focused on my classes. I did what I could to feel normal. But behind all that, I was leaning on my faith more than I ever had in my life. One thing I remember is that my mom never stopped believing. She never stopped trusting God, even on the hardest days. She still encouraged me. She still made me go to workouts that morning—even though I had just learned the worst news of my life. She told me, “God’s got me, and He’s got you, too.” And I believed her. Watching her go through treatment, seeing her change physically and emotionally, and still witnessing her faith stay strong—it changed me. It made me realize that faith is not just about what you believe when things are good. It’s about what you choose to believe when everything feels like it’s falling apart. That experience is the reason I want to go into healthcare. I want to become a pediatric dentist and one day open my own practice. I want to help kids feel safe and cared for, especially when they’re scared or in pain. I want to bring light and comfort the way so many doctors and nurses brought that to my family. And I want my faith to be part of how I lead, how I treat others, and how I show up in the world. Faith didn’t take away my fear. It didn’t erase the hard days. But it gave me something to hold on to when everything else felt shaky. My mom survived. God heard my prayers. And now I walk through life knowing that I’m never alone—even in the darkest moments.

There are moments in life that change you forever, even if you don’t realize it at the time. One of those moments for me was in middle school, when I learned that someone very close to me—my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the center of my world—was diagnosed with a serious chronic illness. When she first told me, I couldn’t understand how something so life-changing could happen so suddenly. I was young, and all I knew was that the future felt uncertain. The days that followed were full of doctor visits, treatments, and long stretches of waiting. I watched her change physically, emotionally, and mentally. At home, things were different. Everything felt heavier. I didn’t always know what to say or how to help. I just knew that I was afraid. But even in the middle of that fear, I kept going. I still showed up to school. I still worked hard. I still did my best to smile, even on the days when I felt like crying. And she encouraged me to do that—she always told me not to give up on my dreams. Watching someone I love fight something so difficult, and still have the strength to cheer me on, inspired me to never stop pushing forward. I learned what real strength looks like—not loud or flashy, but quiet and steady. It shows up when no one is watching. That experience changed my perspective on life and my purpose. It’s what motivated me to want a career in healthcare. I plan to become a pediatric dentist, and I hope to one day open my own practice. I want to create a space where kids feel safe and supported, especially those who are going through difficult situations at home—whether it’s illness, grief, or emotional stress. I know what it’s like to be a child carrying something heavy that you don’t know how to explain. I want to be a healthcare professional who sees the whole person, not just the patient. What continues to inspire me is the idea that my story can help someone else. I’ve gone through emotional challenges, carried silent fear, and still found a way to keep going. That has taught me empathy, resilience, and how to connect with others on a deeper level. I want to bring those qualities into everything I do—whether it’s comforting a nervous child in the dentist chair or encouraging another young girl who feels like the world is on her shoulders. Living through a family member’s chronic illness gave me more than pain—it gave me purpose. It reminded me that life is fragile, but it’s also full of chances to help others heal. I want to be a light for people in their hardest moments, just like someone was for me.

Mental health is important to me as a student because I know what it feels like to carry emotional weight in silence. I know what it’s like to be sitting in a classroom, trying to focus, while your mind is somewhere else—stuck on fear, grief, guilt, or stress. I’ve experienced the impact of mental health challenges in my personal life, and it’s made me realize how important it is to care for our emotional and mental well-being—not just for ourselves, but for the people around us. When I was younger, I had a very close relationship with my grandmother. She struggled with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, but I didn’t fully understand it at the time. All I knew was that she was in and out of hospitals, and that my dad told me it was my job to make sure she took her medication. I was only ten years old. After she passed away, I blamed myself. I believed I had failed her. I didn’t talk to anyone about how I was feeling. I cried alone in my room, too embarrassed to tell my parents I was sad. For a long time, I carried guilt that wasn’t mine to carry. Now that I’m older, I understand that mental illness is complex and not something a child can fix. But that experience taught me how easy it is to suffer silently—and how dangerous it is to stay silent. That’s why, as a student, I try to be someone others can talk to. I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed, so I make an effort to check on my friends, give encouragement, and remind people it’s okay to not be okay. I try to be someone who leads with kindness and doesn’t judge what other people might be going through. I also advocate for mental health by being part of Armor Knights, a student group at my school where we help students with special needs feel included. Sometimes, all someone needs is to feel like they belong. Spending time with my Armor Knight buddy and helping them feel seen has taught me that small acts of connection can have a big impact on mental well-being. Outside of school, I’ve learned even more about mental health because my mom owns a mental health practice. Through her, I’ve seen how therapy, emotional support, and access to mental health resources can change people’s lives. Watching her work has inspired me to treat others with more compassion, and it’s made me want to bring that same energy into my future career. I plan to become a pediatric dentist, and mental health will always be a part of how I treat my patients. I want my dental practice to be a safe, calm place where kids feel comfortable being themselves—especially if they’re going through hard things at home. I believe that emotional support and healthcare should go hand-in-hand. Mental health matters because people matter. As a student, a future healthcare professional, and someone who’s been affected by mental illness in my own family, I will always advocate for kindness, patience, and emotional wellness in everything I do.

My faith in God has been one of the biggest sources of strength in my life. I’m a Christian, and I believe that God doesn’t just walk with us during the good times—He holds us up during the hardest moments, too. I’ve had experiences where I didn’t know how I was going to make it through, but my faith reminded me that I didn’t have to do it alone. In 2022, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She is my best friend and the person I love most in the world. When she told me she had cancer, I felt like the ground dropped beneath me. I was terrified that I was going to lose her. But even through my tears and confusion, I turned to God. I prayed constantly. I asked for strength for my mom and peace for my family. And I believe that it was only by God’s grace that she made it through and beat cancer. That experience taught me that faith doesn’t take the pain away—but it gives you the power to keep moving forward when everything feels like it’s falling apart. Another moment where my faith played a huge role in my life was when my grandmother passed away. She struggled with mental illness for years, and when I was young, I thought it was my job to help her. After she died, I carried guilt for a long time. But with prayer and time, I realized that God’s love covers all things—including the things we don’t understand. I now believe that my job wasn’t to fix her, but to love her. And I did. Because of these experiences, I want to dedicate my life to helping people. I plan to study biology and become a pediatric dentist. I want to open my own dental practice someday, and I want it to be built on faith, kindness, and trust. I want every child who walks into my office to feel cared for, not just as a patient, but as a person. I want them to feel peace. I want their parents to feel like they’re placing their child in the hands of someone who truly values them. My inspiration for building a faith-based practice also comes from home. My mom owns a mental health practice where she helps people through therapy and support. Seeing her live out her purpose—and seeing how many lives she touches—has helped me believe I can do the same. She brings God’s love into her work every day, and I hope to do that in my own way through dentistry. My faith will guide how I treat others, how I lead a team, how I manage my business, and how I stay grounded even when challenges come. I believe that being a dentist is more than just cleaning teeth or filling cavities—it’s about service. It’s about showing up for people when they need comfort and care. And for me, it will always be about using my gifts to do what God has called me to do.

My faith in God has been one of the biggest sources of strength in my life. I’m a Christian, and I believe that God doesn’t just walk with us during the good times—He holds us up during the hardest moments, too. I’ve had experiences where I didn’t know how I was going to make it through, but my faith reminded me that I didn’t have to do it alone. In 2022, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She is my best friend and the person I love most in the world. When she told me she had cancer, I felt like the ground dropped beneath me. I was terrified that I was going to lose her. But even through my tears and confusion, I turned to God. I prayed constantly. I asked for strength for my mom and peace for my family. And I believe that it was only by God’s grace that she made it through and beat cancer. That experience taught me that faith doesn’t take the pain away—but it gives you the power to keep moving forward when everything feels like it’s falling apart. Another moment where my faith played a huge role in my life was when my grandmother passed away. She struggled with mental illness for years, and when I was young, I thought it was my job to help her. After she died, I carried guilt for a long time. But with prayer and time, I realized that God’s love covers all things—including the things we don’t understand. I now believe that my job wasn’t to fix her, but to love her. And I did. Because of these experiences, I want to dedicate my life to helping people. I plan to study biology and become a pediatric dentist. I want to open my own dental practice someday, and I want it to be built on faith, kindness, and trust. I want every child who walks into my office to feel cared for, not just as a patient, but as a person. I want them to feel peace. I want their parents to feel like they’re placing their child in the hands of someone who truly values them. My inspiration for building a faith-based practice also comes from home. My mom owns a mental health practice where she helps people through therapy and support. Seeing her live out her purpose—and seeing how many lives she touches—has helped me believe I can do the same. She brings God’s love into her work every day, and I hope to do that in my own way through dentistry. My faith will guide how I treat others, how I lead a team, how I manage my business, and how I stay grounded even when challenges come. I believe that being a dentist is more than just cleaning teeth or filling cavities—it’s about service. It’s about showing up for people when they need comfort and care. And for me, it will always be about using my gifts to do what God has called me to do.

Mental health was never something I heard people talk about when I was younger. I didn’t have the words for it. I just knew something about my grandmother was different, and sometimes scary, and sometimes heartbreaking. When I was growing up, my granny was the light in my life. She was loving, funny, and full of personality. My older brother and I would go to her house all the time. She let us pick out snacks at the store, Takis and chocolate bars for me. She always knew what made me happy. She made me feel special. But as I got older, her behavior changed. She would talk to herself. Sometimes she would disappear for a while, and I didn’t understand why. Later, I found out she was in and out of hospitals, battling bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. She was diagnosed, but not always consistent with her medication. I didn’t know the details at the time, all I knew was that my dad told me it was my job to remind her to take her pills. I was ten years old. When she passed away in 2018, something in me broke. I truly believed it was my fault. I thought, "If I had taken that job seriously, if I had reminded her more, maybe she would still be here." I carried that guilt silently. I cried in my room alone. I was embarrassed to be sad. I didn’t tell anyone what I was feeling because I didn’t think I had the right to say anything, I thought I had failed. Looking back now, I realize what I experienced was grief, guilt, and probably depression. But at the time, I didn’t know how to say that. No one talked about mental health in my family, not because they didn’t care, but because they didn’t have the tools. I had to learn on my own that mental illness isn’t anyone’s fault. I had to learn that a 10-year-old cannot carry the weight of a disorder that complex. And I had to learn how to forgive myself for something that was never in my control. That experience changed me. It made me more aware of how important mental health is, not just for the person struggling, but for the people around them. It taught me how powerful it is to talk about what you’re feeling. It shaped my relationships because now, I try to be someone people feel safe opening up to. I never want someone else to feel like they have to carry pain alone the way I did. I lead with kindness and compassion because I’ve seen what it looks like when someone you love is hurting in ways you can’t fix. It also shaped my goals. I want to become a pediatric dentist, which may not seem directly related to mental health, but to me, it is. I want to be the kind of healthcare provider who sees more than just the patient, I want to see the person. I want to notice when a child is anxious or scared, and I want to make my practice feel like a safe space. My grandmother’s struggles helped me realize how much people need to feel understood and valued. Whether it’s a mental illness or just a hard day, I want to be the kind of provider who cares about the whole person. Mental health shaped the way I see the world. I don’t assume everyone’s okay just because they’re smiling. I know that people carry invisible things. I know that being strong sometimes looks like just getting out of bed. And I know that we all need each other more than we admit. I still miss my granny. I always will. But instead of carrying guilt, I now carry her memory as my reason to keep going and to help others however I can. I want to be someone who makes people feel seen—because I know what it feels like when you don’t.

At the start of my 10th-grade year, I never thought I’d be writing an essay about Mr. White. Back then, I wasn’t even sure I liked him. Mr. White was my English teacher, and at first, I thought he was cool and funny. But about two months into the school year, everything changed. He became strict. He raised his voice a lot. He wouldn’t take late work, and his grading felt impossible. I started to feel like he had something against me. Every time I turned in an assignment, I was nervous—and every time I got one back, I was frustrated. I even told my mom I wanted her to talk to him, because it felt like no matter how hard I tried, it wasn’t good enough for Mr. White. But instead of having a conversation, my mom did something different. She wrote Mr. White a letter thanking him for teaching me and asking if there was anything we could do to support him. We also gave him a small gift—a candle—and I remember him telling us later that it meant more than we knew. I started noticing that letter sitting on his desk every day. Slowly, I realized that Mr. White didn’t dislike me—he was pushing me because he believed I could do better. When I had Mr. White again in 11th grade, everything was different. I came into his class with a new mindset. I understood now that his standards weren’t meant to tear us down, but to prepare us for life. He didn’t let us turn in lazy work. He challenged our thinking. He brought up current events and taught us how to form opinions and defend them with evidence. He helped me become a stronger writer, but more than that, he helped me believe that what I have to say matters. Mr. White taught me that excellence isn’t supposed to be easy. He helped me see that criticism doesn’t mean failure—it means someone is investing in you. And once I stopped taking it personally, I started growing. Now, as I prepare for college, I realize how much Mr. White shaped my approach to life. I no longer back away from hard work or tough feedback. I don’t wait for someone to lower the bar—I challenge myself to rise to it. I’ve learned to take pride in pushing myself, not just for the grade, but for the growth. Mr. White is one of the reasons I feel ready for college and a career in healthcare. I want to become a pediatric dentist, and I know it’s going to be a challenging road. But I also know how to show up, take responsibility, and give my best—even when it’s uncomfortable. Mr. White didn’t just teach me how to write a better essay—he taught me how to face difficulty with strength, and how to turn pressure into purpose.

In 2022, my entire life changed when my mother, my best friend, hero, and biggest supporter was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was in eighth grade, just starting to figure out who I was, and suddenly everything became uncertain. I remember the morning clearly: I was getting ready for basketball workouts and saw a large bump on her chest. When I asked her about it, she told me it was cancer. In that moment, all I could think about was losing her. Cancer, to me, meant death. My heart broke, and I couldn’t stop crying. But she still made me go to practice that morning. Even through fear and pain, she wanted me to keep going, and that moment taught me more than any textbook ever could. Watching my mom go through cancer was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. I saw her change physically and emotionally. Her skin, her hair, her face,all of it looked different. She didn’t feel like herself, and that scared me. But through it all, I kept going to school. I maintained my grades, stayed committed to my classes, and used school as my escape. It was the only thing that felt normal in a time when nothing else did. I learned how to push through even when life felt heavy. That experience is what inspired my career goals. I plan to major in biology and follow a pre-dental track so I can become a pediatric dentist. Going to the dentist as a child was always a peaceful experience for me. It was a place where I felt calm and safe. That’s the same environment I want to create for children in the future, especially for kids who may be going through scary things at home like I did. I want to make my patients feel seen, valued, and cared for. I want them to feel like their visit to the dentist is a bright spot in their day. Cancer didn’t just open my eyes to healthcare, it made me passionate about it. I saw how doctors, nurses, and caregivers treated my mom with kindness, patience, and strength. They weren’t just doing a job; they were helping a family hold it together. That made me realize how important compassion is in healthcare, especially when working with children. I want to be the kind of provider who makes kids feel safe, understood, and supported, not just medically, but emotionally. My mother’s cancer journey also taught me resilience. I learned to show up, even when I was scared. I learned to lead with kindness, even when I was hurting. I learned how to stay focused on my future, even when the present felt uncertain. Those are the same values I plan to carry with me into my education and career. I don’t come from a wealthy background. My parents didn’t have a college fund waiting for me. But what I do have is drive, discipline, and purpose. I am committed to building a life where I can take care of others the way people took care of us. I believe my experiences have shaped me into someone who’s ready to serve, lead, and make a difference in the lives of others.

My name is Kamrynn, and I am a senior in high school with dreams of becoming a pediatric dentist with a major in biology. But before I ever held a textbook on biology or shadowed a professional, I learned resilience in grocery store aisles, in hospital waiting rooms, and through the quiet strength it takes to keep showing up. When growing up, I always had a close relationship with my granny. She was the light in my life as a child. I also looked forward to visiting her with my older brother Tre. We would often go on grocery store runs. My granny would let me pick out anything I wanted. I would usually get Takis (hot chips) and a milk chocolate Hershey’s bar. She knew these two things were my favorite, so she would sometimes surprise me with them when I came to her house. Sadly, my grandmother’s bipolar depression and schizophrenia caught up to her. She was in and out of the hospital. My dad told me it was my job to make sure she took her medicine. Around 2018, my grandmother passed away. I was just a child. I felt like I failed my granny and my dad; it was supposed to be my job to remind her to take her medicine. I didn’t take my task seriously, and I thought she passed because of me. Of course, I don’t feel like it’s my fault anymore, but as a 10-year-old, that was all I could think about. I would cry a lot in my room. My parents didn’t know, so I was dealing with my sadness alone. I was embarrassed to be sad and didn’t know how to talk about it. In 2022, my mom, my best friend, my hero, my whole world was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was in eighth grade and on the basketball team. One morning, while getting ready for workouts, I noticed a large bump on her chest. When I asked her about it, she told me it was cancer. My heart was immediately broken. At that moment, cancer didn’t mean anything but death. I cried and cried. She tried to calm me down, but how could I be calm when I didn’t know how much time I had left with my mother? She still made me go to workouts that morning. I say that with pride. Even though I had just heard the most traumatic news of my life, I still showed up. I went to school and continued to perform well academically. I kept my grades up with A’s and B’s. School became my escape the only thing that felt normal while my mother went through treatment. I watched cancer change her face, her hair, her skin, and her personality. She was a different person. But she survived. My mom beat cancer! That experience made me want to study biology. I want to know why cells duplicate and create diseases like cancer. I want to work in healthcare to help others. I will major in biology and pursue the pre-med/dental track. To become a pediatric dentist. I want to make my parents proud. They didn’t have a college fund, but they gave me everything they could. Now it’s my turn. A scholarship would ease the burden and allow me to focus on what truly matters: becoming a future leader in healthcare and turning my pain into purpose.

I have chosen to pursue a degree in healthcare because it’s more than just a career path to me it’s personal. In 2022, my mom, who is my best friend, hero, and biggest supporter, was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was only in eighth grade at the time, and nothing could have prepared me for the fear and sadness I felt. I saw how cancer changed her physically and emotionally, and I also saw how much strength it took for her to keep going every day. More than that, I witnessed the way doctors, nurses, and other healthcare professionals cared for her with compassion, patience, and determination. That experience changed the way I saw healthcare. It became more than something that happens in a hospital it became something that gives people hope and a second chance. That’s when I knew I wanted to be part of that world. I’m planning to major in biology and pursue the pre-dental track so I can become a pediatric dentist. My goal is to create a welcoming space where children feel calm, safe, and cared for. A lot of kids are scared of going to the dentist, but I want to change that. When I was younger, I loved going to my pediatric dentist because the environment made me feel peaceful and taken care of. I want to give other kids that same experience to show them that taking care of their health can be something to be proud of, not something to fear. Being a woman in healthcare, especially as a young Black woman, means something powerful to me. I know there are not enough women of color in positions of care and leadership in medicine and dentistry. I want to help change that. When children, especially young girls, walk into my practice and see someone who looks like them, who understands their experiences and treats them with kindness and respect, it sends a message: you belong here, and you matter. Representation is healing. It builds trust and opens doors. I also hope to make a positive impact beyond the dental chair. I want to serve my community in a bigger way through outreach programs, free dental education for families, and mentorship for other young girls interested in healthcare. I’ve always cared deeply about helping others, and I believe this is how I can turn that care into action. Whether it’s volunteering, offering a kind word to a nervous child, or mentoring the next future doctor or dentist, I want to leave a legacy of compassion, leadership, and service. I’ve chosen healthcare because it’s where I can use my kindness, perseverance, and love for people to do real good in the world. My journey hasn’t always been easy, but it’s made me who I am and it’s given me a reason to dream big. I want to be part of the generation that not only heals people but changes the way they experience care, especially children who deserve to feel safe, seen, and supported every time they walk through the door.

My name is Kamrynn, and I am a senior in high school with dreams of becoming a pediatric dentist with a major in biology. But before I ever held a textbook on biology or shadowed a professional, I learned resilience in grocery store aisles, in hospital waiting rooms, and through the quiet strength it takes to keep showing up. When growing up, I always had a close relationship with my granny. She was the light in my life as a child. I also looked forward to visiting her with my older brother Tre. We would often go on grocery store runs. My granny would also let me pick out anything I wanted. I would usually get Takis (hot chips) and a milk chocolate Hershey’s bar. She knew these two things were my favorite, so she would sometimes surprise me with them when I went to her house. Sadly, my grandmother’s bipolar depression and schizophrenia caught up to her. She was in and out of the hospital. My dad told me it was my job to make sure she took her medicine. Sadly, my grandmother passed away around 2018. I was just a child. I felt like I failed my granny and my dad, being it was my job to remind her to take her medicine. I didn’t take my task seriously, and she passed because of me. Of course, I don’t feel like it’s my fault anymore, but as a 10-year-old, that was all I thought about. I would cry a lot in my room. My parents didn’t know, so I was dealing with my sadness alone. I was embarrassed to be sad. Even though I was young, that was when I first learned compassion, because I cared so much for someone who was hurting. I also began to understand how important it is to look out for others, even when you're hurting yourself. In 2022, my mommy, my best friend, hero, my world was diagnosed with breast cancer. I participated in basketball in 8th grade. One morning, I was getting ready for morning workouts as usual. As I was leaving the bathroom, I saw some sort of significantly large bump on my mother’s chest. I asked her what it was, and she told me it was cancer. My heart was immediately broken. At that moment, cancer was the worst thing in the world to have. Cancer didn’t mean anything but death. I cried and cried. She tried to calm me down, but how could I be calm when I didn’t know how much time I had left with my mother before cancer took her from me? She still made me go to workouts that morning. I say that with pride even though I just heard the most traumatic news, I still went to school. That was my first lesson in perseverance. I went to school and performed excellently academically. I maintained A’s and B’s. School was my escape the only thing that felt normal to me because at home I was watching the cancer change my mother. It changed her face, her hair, her skin color, her personality. She was a different person. I went to school and continued to show up academically. My mom beat cancer! Going through this experience drove me to want to study biology. I want to know why cells duplicate, creating cancer. I want to work in health care to help others, because of all the amazing people who helped my mom come home to her family. That experience made me want to be someone who gives others the kind of support and care we received when we needed it most. Aside from all the things I went through, let’s focus on my career goals. I aspire to major in biology and pursue the pre-med/dental track. I want to become a pediatric dentist. I visited Atlanta to see my cousin Gary we visited his dentistry practice. I have fallen in love with dentistry ever since. When I go to my pediatric dentist, the environment is so nostalgic. I feel so comfortable and at peace when I go to the dentist. This is another reason why I aspire to be a dentist. I want to make my future patients feel magical when they walk into my dentistry practice. Being a pediatric dentist is a very personal goal for me. I would love to make my parents proud. I want them to see their baby girl achieve her dreams and show my parents all the hard work and stressful times finally paid off. But first, I have to make myself proud by getting into my dream school, LSU. My parents were never the type to start saving for a college fund. They sent my older brother to college. It is my turn, and I know they are going to do their best to make sure my college is paid for but we need help. Getting a scholarship would be greatly appreciated. It would ease the financial burden and allow me to focus on continuing my path of excellence. I know my parents are stressed with having one kid in college and another that is about to go in 2026. I would like to receive a scholarship because I would love to focus on pursuing college and enjoying my senior year without the stress of how I will be able to attend college. I’ve learned that strength doesn’t always show up as loud success. Sometimes it’s quiet consistency showing up even when it’s hard, leading with kindness, and putting others first, even when you’re unsure of yourself. I would be honored to receive this scholarship as I take the next step in becoming a future leader in healthcare. I would be more than blessed if you all can allow me to achieve my dreams not only to make my family proud, but to give my loved ones in heaven someone to look down on with a proud smile.

The movie that has had the greatest impact on my life is Sinners (2025), produced by Ryan Coogler, Zinzi Coogler, and Sev Ohanian. When I first watched it, I didn’t expect it to stay with me the way it has. But by the time it was over, I felt seen, challenged, and inspired all at once. It’s my favorite movie because of how deeply it connects with being Black, loving music, and holding on to faith during hard times three things that have shaped who I am. One of the reasons I love Sinners is because of how it centers music as a form of expression and survival in the Black community. Music in this film isn’t just something in the background it’s a lifeline. It carries history, pain, joy, and resistance. That resonated with me. Music has always helped me get through hard moments in my life. Whether I was grieving my grandmother, supporting my mom through her cancer diagnosis, or just trying to stay motivated in school, music has been there. Seeing that same power reflected on screen made me feel connected to a bigger story like my experiences weren’t just personal, they were part of a larger culture of strength. But what impacted me even more was how the film handled faith. Sinners doesn’t sugarcoat anything. The characters go through real struggles some emotional, some spiritual, and some just a result of living in a world that feels unfair. But even in the middle of that pain, they turn to God. There’s one scene where the main character breaks out into prayer and says, “Our Father, who art in heaven…” and it gave me chills. He didn’t pray in a fancy church or with perfect words he prayed right where he was, broken and tired. That scene reminded me that God meets us where we are. You don’t have to have it all together to talk to Him. That’s something I’ve carried with me ever since. That moment in the film hit home for me. I’ve had times where I’ve questioned why certain things happened to my family or why I felt overwhelmed. I’ve cried alone in my room, I’ve smiled through pain at school, and I’ve leaned on God quietly when I didn’t know what else to do. Sinners helped me realize that my faith doesn’t have to be perfect it just has to be real. Even when I feel unsure, I still pray, I still believe, and I still keep going. The movie also reminded me that people who are struggling still deserve grace. The characters weren’t saints they were flawed, hurting, and searching for peace. That made me reflect on how I want to treat people in my own future. As someone who plans to work in healthcare, especially pediatric dentistry, I want to serve with compassion. I want to look at people and see more than their condition I want to see their story, their strength, and their humanity. Sinners is more than just a movie to me. It’s a reminder that even when life gets hard, you can hold on to your culture, your faith, and your purpose. That’s exactly what I plan to do.

My name is Kamrynn, and I’m a senior in high school who is passionate about helping others, especially through healthcare. I’ve always been someone who cares deeply for people, even when I didn’t know what career I wanted. But life has a way of showing you your purpose, even in hard times. In 2022, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. It changed everything. I went from being a normal student to someone trying to stay strong for my family while quietly worrying if I would lose my mom. I remember the fear I felt when I first saw the lump on her chest, and how broken I felt when she told me it was cancer. But even through her treatments, she never let me give up on myself. I still went to school, did my best, and used school as a safe space when everything at home felt heavy. Watching my mom go through that journey is what made me interested in healthcare. I started asking questions, reading about cancer, and wondering how the human body works. The experience made me want to study biology and become a pediatric dentist. It might sound like a big jump, but to me, it makes sense. I want to help people, especially children, feel safe, seen, and cared for when they’re in vulnerable situations. Dentistry has always felt peaceful to me. Even as a child, I loved going to my pediatric dentist because it felt calm and welcoming. That’s the kind of experience I want to create for others. Higher education is important to me because I know it’s the path to making these dreams possible. I also know that college will push me in ways I’ve never experienced before, and I’m ready for that. I’ve learned from teachers like Mr. White, who challenged me to always do my best, and from my mom, who taught me what strength looks like. I want to build a future where I can take care of others the way I’ve seen strong, kind people take care of me and my family. I’m also the second child in my family to go to college, and I want to set an example for those coming behind me. My parents never had a college fund saved up, but they’ve done everything they can to support me. Earning a degree would not just be for me, it would be for them too. It would show them that their sacrifices were worth it. With a degree in biology on the pre-dental track, I plan to attend dental school and open my own pediatric dentistry practice. I want my office to be a place where kids feel comfortable, happy, and proud to take care of their health. And I want to use my story to remind others that hard things can shape you into someone strong, someone who gives back, and someone who creates peace for others.

When I think about a teacher who has truly influenced me, I think about Mr. White—my high school English teacher. I had Mr. White for the first time in 10th grade, and to be honest, our relationship started off rough. At first, I liked him. He was funny and seemed like he cared about us. But a couple of months in, I was frustrated. He didn’t accept late work, he graded hard, and he seemed like he was always yelling. I didn’t feel like he was being fair, and I didn’t understand why he had to be so strict. I came home complaining almost every day. I felt like I was trying my best, but it wasn’t enough for him. I was ready to give up. But instead of stepping in right away, my mom decided to write Mr. White a letter. She just thanked him for teaching me and asked how we could support him. We also gave him a candle as a gift, just something small. I didn’t expect much from that gesture, but Mr. White told us later that the letter came at a time when he really needed it. He said it meant everything to him. I started noticing that letter sitting on the top of his desk every day after that. Things slowly changed. Mr. White didn’t become less strict, but I started to understand him better. I realized that he was pushing us because he believed in us. He wanted us to be prepared for the real world, and he refused to let us settle for average. I had Mr. White again in 11th grade, and by then, he was one of my favorite teachers. I could see how much he cared. He wasn’t just teaching us English—he was teaching us how to think, how to write with purpose, how to care about the world around us. Mr. White also brought politics and current events into class discussions. At first, I didn’t think I cared about any of that. But he made it interesting and real. He made me realize that I have a voice and I should use it—not just in writing, but in life. Now that I’m preparing for college, I understand what Mr. White was trying to do all along. He was holding us to a standard that would get us ready for the next chapter. He helped me build discipline, stronger writing skills, and more confidence in my opinions. He challenged me, and I’m grateful for that challenge. At Prairie View A&M University, I plan to carry those lessons with me. I know college won’t be easy, but Mr. White helped me learn how to push through, stay focused, and give my best. Because of him, I expect more from myself. I’m not just going to show up—I’m going to show up prepared, with purpose. Both of my parents earned their graduate degrees from PVAMU, and I’ve seen how this university helped shape their success. I would be proud to continue that legacy, and I know that Prairie View is where I’ll grow into the best version of myself.