My name is Keiyah Cole, and I am currently attending the University of Saint Mary, where I am majoring in Exercise Science. This field of study is more than just a pathway to a career for me—it is a calling. I’ve chosen this major because I am passionate about the science of movement, the healing power of the human body, and most importantly, about helping people live fuller, stronger, and pain-free lives. With this degree, I plan to pursue graduate school and become a licensed physical therapist. My goal is not just to treat injuries, but to empower, educate, and uplift others—especially in underserved communities where care is often inaccessible or overlooked. I’ve always known I wanted to work in a field where I could make a real impact. Physical therapy stood out to me because it combines science, service, and personal connection. It allows me to help people recover, regain independence, and return to doing what they love. But beyond the clinical side of things, what draws me to this profession is the human side. I want to be the person who encourages someone not to give up, who celebrates every small step of progress, and who truly listens when others feel unheard. I’ve seen how powerful that kind of support can be. Growing up, I watched people I love struggle with chronic pain and limited mobility—not because they didn’t care about their health, but because they didn’t have the access, resources, or information to improve it. Many didn’t know where to start or felt intimidated by the healthcare system. I come from a community where strength is often expected, but support is not always available. These experiences are what shaped my passion for not only physical health, but also health education and cultural understanding. I want to be a physical therapist who truly meets people where they are—mentally, physically, and emotionally. Attending the University of Saint Mary has been one of the most meaningful steps in my journey so far. It’s more than just a school to me—it’s a place where I’m building the foundation of who I’m becoming. The courses I’ve taken in anatomy, kinesiology, and rehabilitation have challenged me and motivated me to think beyond the textbook. I’m learning not just how to treat the body, but how to be a compassionate, ethical, and effective healthcare professional. The faculty at USM have helped me grow, and the environment has reinforced that my goals are not only valid—they are possible. College, for me, is about more than earning a degree—it’s about breaking cycles, setting new standards, and creating a legacy. As a first-generation college student, this journey is deeply personal. I know I’m paving the way for more than just myself. I carry the hopes of my family, my younger relatives, and the community that raised me. I want them to see that success isn’t about being perfect—it’s about staying committed, staying focused, and refusing to let obstacles stop you from rising. Every test I pass, every semester I complete, and every challenge I face and overcome is a reflection of that commitment. My long-term vision is to open a community-based physical therapy clinic in a neighborhood like the one I grew up in—where people may not have the easiest access to healthcare or wellness resources. I want to offer affordable care, host educational workshops, and create a space that is culturally sensitive, welcoming, and rooted in service. I also hope to collaborate with schools, youth programs, and local organizations to bring physical health education to younger generations—teaching them early on how to care for their bodies, prevent injuries, and build lifelong habits of wellness. One of my deepest beliefs is that healing is not one-size-fits-all. What works for one patient might not work for another, and that’s where cultural literacy becomes essential. I want to be the kind of provider who understands the importance of someone’s background, traditions, and lived experiences in shaping how they approach care. Whether it’s through language, customs, or beliefs, I want my patients to feel seen and respected. When people feel understood, they are more likely to trust, engage, and heal—and that’s where real progress happens. This scholarship would be an enormous help in allowing me to continue pursuing my education without the constant stress of financial strain. Like many students, I’ve had to navigate not only the academic challenges of college but also the financial realities. Scholarships like this one don’t just reduce tuition costs—they represent belief, investment, and support. They tell students like me: “You belong here. Keep going.” Receiving this scholarship would allow me to stay focused on my studies, participate in more learning opportunities, and move forward with confidence toward my goals. I also hope to use my journey as a way to inspire others. Once I’m established in my career, I plan to mentor future students—especially young people of color or those from low-income backgrounds—who are interested in healthcare but unsure of how to start. I want to help them navigate school, believe in their potential, and understand that their voices are valuable in this field. Representation matters, and I want to be the kind of role model I wish I had growing up. In the end, I don’t just want to treat pain—I want to help transform lives. Through physical therapy, I can offer people strength, independence, and hope. Through education and community work, I can spread knowledge and break barriers. And through compassion and understanding, I can build trust and create space for healing. That’s what I’m working toward, one class, one internship, and one goal at a time. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship. Your support would not only be a gift to my education but a stepping stone to all the lives I plan to impact. I am committed to using everything I learn to give back, grow stronger, and serve others with purpose. Sincerely, Keiyah Cole

If I could create a class that all students from kindergarten through 12th grade were required to take, it would be called “Human Skills: Emotional Intelligence, Resilience, and Real Life.” This class would focus on the core skills that every person needs to navigate life—no matter their background, academic path, or career goals. It would combine lessons in emotional intelligence, conflict resolution, mental health awareness, communication, goal setting, financial literacy, and basic self-care. Too often, students leave school prepared to take tests, but not necessarily ready to take on life. They might know how to calculate derivatives or memorize historical dates, but they don’t know how to manage stress, build healthy relationships, or recover after failure. The truth is, academics are only one part of what makes someone successful and fulfilled. Emotional and practical skills are just as essential, and they should be taught with the same level of importance. In the early grades (K–5), the course would begin with age-appropriate emotional literacy—learning how to name, understand, and express emotions in a healthy way. It would teach kids how to handle conflict with peers, how to practice kindness and empathy, and how to cope with disappointment. As students grow older, the curriculum would deepen. Middle schoolers would explore topics like peer pressure, self-esteem, healthy friendships, and goal setting. High schoolers would build on those foundations and learn how to navigate romantic relationships, manage anxiety, understand personal boundaries, and develop leadership and accountability. In the later years, the class would also introduce basic real-world skills like budgeting, saving, credit, job interviews, how to read contracts, and how to access mental health or social services when needed. These are life skills that every student—regardless of whether they go to college or straight into the workforce—needs to succeed. The impact of this class would be profound. First, it would normalize conversations around mental health and emotional wellbeing from a young age, breaking generational cycles of silence and shame. Students would learn that asking for help is a strength, not a weakness. This would reduce bullying, anxiety, and isolation, creating safer and more connected school environments. Second, this class would foster better communication, empathy, and cooperation across all ages and backgrounds. In a world that often feels divided, teaching students how to listen, understand, and respect differences could change how entire communities relate to one another. Third, by including financial and life literacy, students would feel more prepared to face adulthood. They would be less likely to fall into debt or unhealthy relationships and more likely to make empowered, informed decisions. This is especially important for students who come from underserved backgrounds or whose parents may not have had access to the same resources. Most importantly, the “Human Skills” class would help students develop a strong sense of self—confidence rooted not in perfection, but in resilience, emotional awareness, and purpose. It would teach them that success isn’t just about what you know, but how you grow, how you treat others, and how you bounce back when life gets hard. In a world filled with uncertainty, one thing is guaranteed: every student will face real life. And when they do, they deserve to be ready—not just academically, but emotionally, socially, and practically. This class would give them the tools to thrive in school, in work, and in life.

I am passionate about helping my community because I understand what it means to struggle, to heal, and to grow with the support of others. Growing up, I saw firsthand how physical and emotional pain can limit someone’s life not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. Whether it was a loved one recovering from an injury or a neighbor coping with limited mobility, I witnessed how hard it can be to feel hopeful when your body holds you back. These experiences sparked a deep desire in me to be someone who brings others back to strength. That’s why I chose physical therapy not just as a career, but as a calling. Helping people heal and regain control of their lives is one of the most powerful things I can imagine doing. Physical therapy is about more than stretches or exercises it’s about encouragement, patience, and belief. It’s about showing up every day for someone who might feel like giving up, and helping them see that progress is possible, one step at a time. I want to be that steady presence for people in my community, especially for those who might not have easy access to care or support. My long-term goal is to open or work in a community-based physical therapy clinic that serves low-income and underserved populations. I want to offer quality care to those who often get overlooked whether due to financial hardship, lack of insurance, or transportation barriers. I also plan to develop outreach programs that educate people on injury prevention, wellness, and the importance of mobility and movement at every age. I believe that prevention is just as powerful as treatment, and with the right resources and education, many people could avoid long-term pain or disability altogether. Beyond the clinic, I hope to mentor future physical therapy students, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds. Representation matters, and I want to help open doors for others the way I hope this scholarship opens doors for me. I want to show younger students that you don’t have to come from privilege to make a difference you just need heart, determination, and the will to serve. To me, creating lasting impact means empowering people to live with independence, dignity, and confidence. It means standing with my community not only during times of pain, but also during times of progress. Through physical therapy, I can be part of someone’s journey to healing and that’s a privilege I take seriously. Receiving this scholarship would be an investment not just in my education, but in every patient I will one day serve. I’m committed to building a future where health and healing are accessible to all, and where every person feels seen, supported, and strengthened.

Breaking Cycles and Building Change Through Education Domestic violence and substance abuse are not just statistics to me they are painful realities I have witnessed and experienced firsthand. Growing up, I lived in a home where love and fear coexisted in an unsteady balance. My mother, a strong but wounded woman, endured years of domestic violence at the hands of my father, whose struggles with substance abuse only intensified the chaos in our home. As a child, I often felt powerless, confused, and invisible. But those experiences also planted a seed in me: a desire to one day be part of the solution for other women like my mother and children like I once was. African American women are disproportionately affected by domestic violence, and yet their voices are too often ignored or dismissed in conversations about care and recovery. Stigma, systemic racism, and lack of access to culturally competent support services contribute to this crisis. I have seen how silence and shame can keep women trapped and how the absence of communication between healthcare providers, legal systems, and community organizations can leave survivors with nowhere to turn. My goal in pursuing higher education is to break that cycle not only for my own healing but also to become a bridge for others. I plan to major in social work with a focus on trauma-informed care and community-based mental health services. I want to be a leader in reshaping how care is coordinated for African American women facing domestic violence and substance abuse. That means improving the systems that too often fail us, making them more responsive, more compassionate, and more connected. Higher education gives me the tools to turn lived experience into lasting impact. I plan to use my degree to advocate for policy reform, work within underserved communities, and build programs that center the voices and needs of Black women. I believe that effective care starts with communication, not just between agencies, but with the women themselves. Too often, support systems are designed without truly listening to the people they are meant to serve. I want to change that by bringing empathy, cultural awareness, and accountability into every space I work in. Most importantly, I want to be a source of hope. I want African American women to know they are not alone, that healing is possible, and that their stories matter. My education is not just for me; it’s for every woman who never got the chance to escape, for every child who grew up afraid, and for every family that deserves better. Through knowledge, service, and advocacy, I will do everything I can to change outcomes and change lives.

Reimagining Education: Prioritizing Mental Health in the Classroom If I could change anything in education, I would make mental health education and support a central part of every school’s curriculum and structure. For too long, schools have focused almost entirely on academic achievement—grades, test scores, and college readiness while often overlooking the emotional and psychological well-being of their students. Yet mental health affects every part of a student’s ability to learn, build relationships, and develop into a healthy adult. By embedding mental health support into the fabric of education, we would not only help students cope with life’s challenges but also create safer, more supportive learning environments where all students are given the tools to thrive, both in and out of the classroom. One of the biggest issues facing students today is the overwhelming pressure to perform. From a young age, children are expected to achieve high test scores, maintain high GPAs, and compete for increasingly limited scholarships and academic honors. While motivation and structure are important, the constant pressure to be “the best” can lead to severe anxiety, depression, and even burnout before a student reaches adulthood. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), nearly one in five children in the U.S. experiences a mental disorder in any given year. Even more alarming, suicide is now the second-leading cause of death among people aged 10 to 24. Despite these statistics, many schools lack the resources, trained staff, or even awareness needed to support students in emotional distress. If I could change the system, I would ensure that every school regardless of its size or location—has licensed mental health professionals on staff. That means school counselors would not be overwhelmed with hundreds of students each, and mental health support would not be treated as a luxury or an afterthought. Students should have regular access to someone they can talk to, someone trained not only in college planning or behavior management but also in emotional health, trauma response, and crisis prevention. Mental health needs to be treated as just as important as physical health and academic progress. In addition to having professionals available, schools must also normalize conversations around mental health. One of the most damaging elements in our current system is the stigma that surrounds emotional challenges. Many students are afraid to speak up about their struggles because they worry they’ll be judged, punished, or ignored. This silence is incredibly dangerous. Far too often, signs of serious distress go unnoticed or unaddressed until it’s too late. By making mental health part of the conversation from an early age, schools can help eliminate that stigma. Just like we teach math and science, we should be teaching emotional intelligence, self-care strategies, mindfulness, and conflict resolution. These lessons can be integrated into existing curricula such as discussing mental health themes in literature or exploring the science of the brain in biology classes. When students learn to talk about mental health in a normalized way, they are more likely to seek help, support one another, and recognize signs of distress in themselves or their peers. This early education can lead to healthier habits that last a lifetime. For example, teaching students how to manage stress, cope with failure, or communicate their emotions not only helps them in school but also prepares them for challenges in college, work, and relationships. Another important area that needs change is how schools discipline students. Too often, students who act out or fall behind are labeled as “bad kids” rather than seen as individuals who might be struggling with trauma or mental health issues. Traditional punishments like suspension or detention may remove the problem from sight temporarily, but they rarely address the root causes of the behavior. In fact, exclusionary discipline methods often make things worse by isolating students and increasing their likelihood of falling further behind or dropping out. Instead, I believe schools should adopt trauma-informed approaches to discipline. This means recognizing that a child who is acting out might be doing so because they are struggling emotionally or mentally. Educators should be trained to respond with empathy and curiosity, not just punishment. Restorative justice practices such as guided conversations, peer mediation, or community service can help students take responsibility for their actions while also repairing relationships and developing emotional awareness. These approaches are more effective in the long term because they build trust, accountability, and self-regulation, rather than just fear of consequences. Some critics may argue that mental health education and services belong in the home or in private therapy settings, not in schools. But the truth is, not every child has access to mental health care outside of school. Many families cannot afford therapy or may not recognize the signs of emotional distress in their children. For some students, school is the only place where they encounter stable adult role models and consistent structure. That gives schools a unique opportunity and responsibility to serve as a safety net. We cannot expect students to succeed academically if they are silently suffering emotionally. Incorporating mental health into education also benefits academic outcomes. When students feel safe, emotionally supported, and mentally balanced, they are better able to focus, participate, and retain information. Research shows that students who participate in social-emotional learning (SEL) programs demonstrate improved academic performance, higher attendance rates, and fewer behavior problems. These programs teach essential life skills like empathy, goal-setting, responsible decision-making, and emotional regulation. These aren’t just “nice to have” skills they are foundational for success in school, in relationships, and in the workforce. Another benefit of emphasizing mental health in schools is the impact it can have on long-term community health. Students who learn how to manage emotions, deal with stress, and communicate effectively are less likely to engage in violence, substance abuse, or criminal behavior later in life. Investing in mental health education is a preventative measure; it addresses issues before they grow into larger, more complex problems. In the long run, this investment saves money, reduces strain on healthcare and criminal justice systems, and builds stronger, more compassionate communities. Of course, implementing this change would require a significant shift in how schools are funded, how teachers are trained, and how success is measured. But that shift is long overdue. Education should be about more than just producing high test scores or college acceptances. It should be about developing healthy, capable, emotionally intelligent individuals who can contribute meaningfully to the world around them. We cannot achieve that goal if we continue to ignore the mental health crisis facing our youth. In conclusion, if I could change one thing in education, I would make mental health a foundational part of the school experience. From increasing access to counselors, to normalizing emotional conversations, to shifting how we respond to behavioral challenges this change would create a more compassionate, effective, and human-centered education system. Our students are not just brains to be filled with knowledge they are whole people with thoughts, feelings, and challenges. When we start treating them that way, we create schools that truly educate and truly care.