At thirty-two years old, I walked into the emergency room vomiting, fainting, and terrified, and walked out days later with a pacemaker and an unshakable faith in God. In 2024, I began experiencing frightening medical episodes. That year I began experiencing frightening medical episodes. Without warning I would start violently vomiting, lose consciousness, and even lose control of my body. The episodes left me weak, confused, and terrified. When it first happened, I went to the emergency room and was treated with fluids and sent home. No one could explain what was happening. When the symptoms returned, even worse than before, I found myself back in the emergency room. I remember feeling exhausted, scared, and desperate for answers. As doctors and nurses began preparing to treat me the same way they had before, it felt like my situation was about to be dismissed again. In that moment I felt completely helpless. Sitting in that hospital room, I quietly prayed. I asked God to please help someone see what was wrong with me and guide the doctors to the answers my body was desperately trying to give. Shortly after that prayer, something happened that I will never forget. My symptoms struck again while I was still in the hospital. I began vomiting and my body started shutting down right in front of the medical team. I remember passing out with the nurse in the room, and waking with all ER Staff. What had been terrifying episodes at home suddenly became the moment that saved my life. Because it happened in the hospital, the doctors could finally see exactly what was happening. A Black physician stepped in and made a statement that brought me both relief and hope. He told me, “You are not leaving here until we figure out what is wrong.” In that moment, as a black woman in a hospital, I felt truly heard for the first time since the symptoms began. In June of 2024, I spent five days in the ICU on complete bed rest while doctors ran tests and monitored my heart. At just 32 years old, I left the hospital with a pacemaker. Doctors discovered that my heart itself was healthy, but my vagus nerve was malfunctioning and causing my body to crash without warning. The pacemaker now helps regulate that nerve and prevents those dangerous episodes. Those five days in the ICU were some of the scariest moments of my life. Lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, forced me to confront how fragile life can be. But it also strengthened my faith in a way nothing else ever had. I truly believe it was God who intervened that day. If my symptoms had not returned while I was in the hospital, doctors might not have discovered the cause. If that doctor had not insisted on finding answers, I may have continued living with a life-threatening condition without knowing it. That experience taught me that faith is not just believing when life is easy. Faith is trusting God when you feel powerless and afraid. In one of the most uncertain moments of my life, prayer gave me strength and hope. Today I live with a pacemaker, but I also live with a renewed sense of gratitude and purpose. My faith carried me through one of the most frightening challenges I have ever faced, and it continues to guide my life. I believe God had the final say in my story that day, and because of that, I move forward with deeper faith and determination to use my life to uplift and help others.

My "pie in the sky" is to create spaces to provide the resources for women (and especially women of color) to be believed in before they believe in themselves. I envision developing spaces that bring together education, mentorship, advocacy, and community accountability in order for women to go from surviving to thriving without being forced to do it alone. Creating this dream has the potential to be both inspiring and intimidating, due to the fact that it would require me to be able to find my voice, to lead and to be grounded in my experiences. The idea behind this dream is based upon my own experiences. A large portion of my life was spent trying to navigate through systems that lacked the ability to guide me, to be consistent, or provide me with a safe environment, I realized early on how isolating it can be to bear a heavy burden of responsibility with no support system. I spent many years focusing on survival, raising a family, working a full-time job, and managing unresolved trauma; all the while silently believing that there needed to be more to life than just existing. The spark that ignited this dream for me was seeing firsthand the power of community when women are provided the freedom to dream out-loud and are held accountable with compassion rather than judgment. Throughout my work in mentoring and community leadership, specifically with women of color going through career transition and returning to school; I've witnessed the rapid change in one's life when support meets opportunity. I've seen women develop confidence, negotiate salary increases, return to school and ultimately believe they have a place in rooms they previously feared entering. Those moments reinforced what I've always known; that my purpose is to create and sustain these spaces. Creating this dream is currently unattainable to me because it will require me to develop personally, professionally, and structurally. In order for this to occur, I'll have to invest more in my education, so I can tie my lived experience to formal knowledge and credibility. I'm currently doing this by attending college as an adult learner, while simultaneously working full-time and raising a family. I'll also need to continue developing my leadership skills, growing my network and learning how to expand community-based initiatives while maintaining their core values. A fundamental component to achieving this dream is courage. Courage to be visible, courageous enough to ask for help, courageous enough to occupy space unapologetically. Dreams are big and understanding the vision may not come easily to all people. This means I choose to believe instead of fearing and that I remain committed to consistency versus comfort. Community accountability is what will maintain this dream alive. I believe that growth occurs when women surround themselves with other women who tell them who they are when doubt surfaces. My ultimate "pie in the sky" goal isn't simply to achieve personal success, but to produce impact. I want to create pathways for women who resemble me, who come from similar backgrounds and who only need to hear from another person, "Your dream makes sense." I'd like to be a contributor in helping to create a future for women, where women don't have to reduce their ambitions in order to merely survive. This dream seems to be so big, and it is. However, I've found that the dreams we're most fearful of are typically the dreams we should be pursuing. With education, community, accountability, and courage, I believe this vision can become a reality that will positively affect lives - including my own.

When people talk about losing a parent, the conversation often centers on death. What is rarely acknowledged is the grief that comes from having a parent who is still alive but chooses not to be present, to not show up, protect, nurture, or love a child in the ways they need. This type of loss is quieter, harder to name, and often carried alone, yet it can be just as life-altering. The loss of a parent through absence rather than death is one of the defining losses of my life. During my youth, I became accustomed to grieving a parent who was physically alive but consistently emotionally unavailable and absent by choice. There is a uniquely painful experience in witnessing a parent deliberately choose emotional distance or indifference. As a result, I realized early on that the support, safety, and guidance I needed would never come from the place it should have. This loss profoundly shaped my childhood and continued to influence my life into adulthood. Growing up with an absent parent caused significant emotional distress and contributed to developmental trauma. I learned to rely on myself at a young age. I learned to function without consistent emotional support, to quietly accept disappointment, and to develop strength as a means of survival rather than choice. Without a supportive or protective model, I did not learn how to establish healthy attachments, advocate for myself, or feel protected things many children take for granted. I also carried unanswered questions and had to learn to accept that closure does not always come. This loss has affected nearly every aspect of my life’s journey. It has shaped how I show up as a mother, with an intentional commitment to presence in ways I did not experience. It motivated me to pursue education later in life while working full time and raising a family, because I understood that stability for myself and my children was something I had to create. I could not wait for it to be given. This experience has also influenced my professional path, guiding me toward advocacy-centered work where ensuring others feel seen, supported, and valued is central. Grieving a living parent is complex and often unrecognized. While society validates grief following the death of a parent, it rarely acknowledges the grief that comes with abandonment or emotional absence. There are no sympathy cards, no public rituals, and no space to openly mourn. Instead, individuals are often expected to be grateful, forgive quickly, or minimize their experience. Yet unresolved grief does not disappear it transforms. For me, it transformed into motivation, persistence, and a commitment to disrupt cycles of loss. Despite this loss, I continue to move forward. I returned to school as an adult learner with a vision rooted in stability, purpose, and generational healing. I mentor others particularly women of color who are navigating their own experiences of loss, trauma, and rebuilding. I believe resilience is not about ignoring pain; it is about acknowledging it and continuing forward anyway. The loss of a parent, whether through death or absence, reshapes a life. It can strip away security and guidance, but it can also forge strength, empathy, and determination. My journey has not been defined by what was missing, but by what I chose to build in its place: presence, advocacy, and opportunity. I carry my loss with me not as a limitation, but as a reminder of how far I have come and why I refuse to stop moving forward.

As a Black woman, a mother, and a community leader in the field of technology, my underrepresented minority status has impacted my life, my core values, and my direction for the future. I find myself in environments that were not designed by people who look like me; higher education, corporate technology, and leadership, and every one of those environments reinforces that representation, access, and advocacy are not luxuries; they are necessities. I have had a non-linear and challenging academic path. The demands of balancing a full-time job, being a mom, and taking classes require discipline, resilience, and unyielding commitment to my vision for the future. As a woman of color, I have often found that systems move slowly, are unclear about processes, or fail to take into consideration the complexities of the lives and responsibilities of students such as myself. Those experiences could have derailed me from achieving my goals. However, instead, they have only further solidified my resolve to continue advocating for myself, asking tough questions, and continuing forward through difficult times. The experiences of adversity and inequality did not deter me from leading; rather, they allowed me to develop greater leadership qualities and increased my purpose. Working in the tech industry (specifically, in customer success) has shown me firsthand how underrepresentation affects both employees and customers alike. Working in this environment as a Black woman has empowered me to lead with empathy, clarity, and accountability. I have experienced firsthand what it is like to feel overlooked or unheard. Therefore, I lead with a human-centered focus so that inclusion is intentional and not just performative. In addition to my professional role, I have dedicated myself to building communities and mentoring women of color. Building Black Women in Customer Success was not only a way to help women of color gain access to resources, encouragement, and guidance in an industry where they are underrepresented, but also a way for me to make a difference in a very personal way. I know first-hand how powerful it can be to see someone who looks like you succeeding and having a network of support that acknowledges your experiences and encourages you to reach new heights. My identity as a mother has influenced my pursuit of education. Not only is pursuing education a way for me to invest in my own future, but it is also a way to declare to my children that no matter the barriers that may stand in our way, determination, growth, and possibility exists. I want them to see that the obstacles we encounter will not define us, determination and purpose will. Ultimately, I plan to continue using my voice, education, and experiences to open doors and provide pathways for others. Being an underrepresented minority has never limited me; it has provided me the foundation of my leadership, advocacy, and influence. My journey proves that representation does matter and when we have access, support, and opportunities to grow and thrive, we don't just succeed; we open doors that previously existed only as walls.

Inherently due to my lack of parents and moving between homes of various relatives I had to develop persistence at a very young age. The uncertainty that was always present was something I could never give into. I developed a way to rapidly adjust to new environments and focus on making the best decisions possible in environments where there were many negative influences; such as drug and gang involvement. Because I didn't have a consistent source of direction and support from my parents, I became my own motivator and held myself accountable. I made sure to keep myself connected to my education, community, and personal growth as ways to anchor myself in times of uncertainty. For me, persistence means finding long-term solutions instead of taking short-term escapes and having the resilience to continue to move forward when it feels like stability is unattainable. My experiences have allowed me to navigate adversity with both clarity and determination, regardless of how unstable things may seem. Today, these same experiences guide me as I go about the world as a student, professional, and community leader. I am deeply invested in helping to pour some of the knowledge I've gained back into my community, by serving as a role model of what can be accomplished when one chooses to leave the cycle of instability and survival behind. I am currently working to achieve my goals through my academic pursuits, professional development, and through my involvement in my community. I also mentor, lead, and create space that encourages individuals to grow, be accountable, and find hope. Through sharing my story and consistently showing up for others I want to assist in breaking the cycles of poverty and limited opportunity and inspire other individuals to pursue their own paths of perseverance and purpose as I have.

Attending Howard University was both purposeful and very personal. To me, Howard is much more than just a university, it’s a legacy, a responsibility, and a commitment I made to myself and to my family. As a non-traditional student attempting to balance being a single mother, having a full time job, and community leadership, I required a university that did not simply accept greatness but expected it; while respecting the life experiences that each student brings to the table. Howard represents a place that honors the fact that who I am as a Black woman is not something that I will need to diminish or explain but instead, it is honored, challenged, and empowered. The academic environment at Howard University has taught me to be a critical thinker, to be bold in my leadership, and to connect the theories we learn in the classroom to real-world impact, especially through my studies in Human Development. Each class, discussion, and assignment has reinforced how important representation in education is and how powerful access to knowledge can be. It is even more special that my children are able to witness this experience unfold. I would like my children to see the value of perseverance, the importance of curiosity in learning, and my faith in myself when faced with adversity. I want them to know that there are many different roads to success and that it is never too late to reinvest in their education or write a new chapter in their lives.