Supporting others through mental health challenges has become a natural part of who I am, both personally and professionally. As a healthcare student and working professional, I have seen how emotional well-being directly affects a person’s ability to heal, learn, and function. Many individuals struggle silently due to stigma, lack of access, or fear of being misunderstood, and I have made it a priority to be a steady, compassionate presence in those moments. In my daily life, I support others by creating space for honest conversation and emotional awareness. Whether with peers, patients, or family members, I listen without judgment and encourage open dialogue about stress, burnout, and mental health concerns. I understand that sometimes support does not require solutions it requires being present, validating someone’s experience, and reminding them they are not alone. These small but consistent actions help reduce stigma and foster trust. Through my work and volunteer experiences in healthcare, I have also supported mental well-being by educating patients and community members, particularly in underserved settings. Providing care in shelters and community environments has shown me how preventive support, reassurance, and clear communication can ease anxiety and reduce crisis situations. Emotional support is often just as impactful as clinical treatment, especially for individuals navigating complex life circumstances. My studies in healthcare are preparing me to advocate for mental health more effectively and responsibly. As I continue my education in nursing with a long-term goal of working in mental health, I am learning how to integrate emotional support into evidence-based care. I want to be a provider who recognizes early signs of distress, communicates with empathy, and advocates for comprehensive care that addresses both physical and emotional needs. In the future, I plan to continue supporting mental well-being through patient-centered care, education, and advocacy. By combining lived experience, compassion, and clinical training, I hope to contribute to a healthcare environment where mental health is prioritized, stigma is reduced, and individuals feel supported at every stage of care.

What I want to build is a sustainable path of care, stability, and advocacy through healthcare one that strengthens both my family and the community I serve. I am not building something overnight or alone; I am building a future rooted in education, service, and long-term impact. My journey into healthcare began with a desire for stability, but it evolved into a calling. As a first-generation college student who earned a high school equivalency diploma and worked my way into nursing step by step, I learned that building a future requires intention and persistence. Each educational milestone becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant, advancing to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and now pursuing my RN degree has been a brick laid toward a larger purpose. I am building a career that allows me to care for others while creating financial and emotional stability for my family. Beyond my own household, I am building access. Through my education and volunteer work, I have seen how gaps in healthcare especially mental health care leave individuals and families without support during critical moments. Many people delay care due to cost, stigma, or lack of understanding. I want to help change that by building trust, education, and continuity of care within underserved communities. My long-term goal is to continue advancing my education and expand my ability to provide holistic, patient-centered care that addresses both physical and mental well-being. I am also building a model of resilience for the next generation. As a parent, I understand that what I build professionally affects more than my career—it shapes what my child sees as possible. By committing to education despite financial strain and responsibility, I am building a legacy of perseverance, accountability, and purpose. I want my child and others like her to see that progress is created through consistency and service, not perfection. The impact of what I am building extends beyond individual interactions. Strong communities are built when people feel supported, informed, and cared for. Through healthcare, education, and advocacy, I hope to contribute to systems that reduce barriers and promote dignity. My education is the foundation of that work. It equips me with the skills, knowledge, and credibility to serve effectively and lead responsibly. Ultimately, I am building a future where education translates into meaningful change. By investing in my growth now, I am preparing to give back in ways that strengthen families, improve health outcomes, and uplift my community for years to come.

Being the child of a military veteran shaped my understanding of service long before I understood it as a career. I was raised with a deep respect for sacrifice, discipline, and responsibility values that were modeled through my family’s long-standing connection to military service. My father served in the U.S. Navy, and military service continued through multiple generations of my family. Witnessing the impact of that service, both its pride and its cost, influenced the path I chose in healthcare. Growing up, I learned that service often requires quiet strength. Military life taught my family the importance of adaptability, accountability, and resilience. I saw firsthand how service extends beyond the uniform into family life, emotional endurance, and long-term responsibility. These lessons stayed with me and later guided my decision to pursue a career where service is expressed through care, advocacy, and consistency. As I matured, I became more aware of the lasting effects military service can have on individuals and families. Veterans often carry invisible wounds, including trauma, stress, and physical challenges that do not end when service does. Understanding this reality strengthened my desire to work in a field that supports healing, stability, and long-term well-being. Healthcare became the natural intersection of my values and my goals. My career aspirations in nursing are directly shaped by these experiences. I am currently pursuing my RN degree with the long-term goal of advancing my education and expanding my ability to care for individuals with complex needs. I am particularly drawn to areas of care that address both physical and mental health, recognizing that emotional well-being is just as critical as physical recovery. Supporting individuals who have experienced trauma whether through military service or other life circumstances is central to the provider I aim to become. Military influence also shaped my work ethic. I approach my education and responsibilities with discipline and follow-through, understanding that commitment matters even when circumstances are difficult. Balancing school, work, and family responsibilities requires structure and perseverance qualities I learned through the examples set by the veterans in my family. Being the child of a veteran taught me that service is not about recognition; it is about impact. That belief continues to guide my academic and professional decisions. Through healthcare, I plan to give back by providing compassionate, reliable care to those who have given so much themselves. I want to be part of systems that support healing, dignity, and access especially for individuals and families affected by service-related challenges. This scholarship is meaningful to me because it honors the legacy of veterans by supporting the next generation of service-minded professionals. My career aspirations are rooted in the values passed down through my family’s military service, and I am committed to carrying those values forward through a life dedicated to care, responsibility, and meaningful contribution.

This scholarship opportunity is deeply meaningful to me because it represents more than financial support it reflects the values that have sustained me throughout my journey. As a financially underprivileged undergraduate student of faith, higher education has required persistence, sacrifice, and trust. My faith has been the constant that grounded me when resources were limited and the path forward felt uncertain. My academic and professional journey has not been traditional. I am a first-generation college student who earned a high school equivalency diploma and worked my way into healthcare step by step. Without financial security or generational guidance, each milestone required deliberate effort and resilience. There were moments when exhaustion, doubt, and responsibility weighed heavily, especially as I balanced education, work, and family obligations. During those times, my faith provided clarity and strength. It reminded me that progress is built through consistency, humility, and trust rather than immediate outcomes. Faith played a pivotal role in helping me overcome challenges by shaping how I respond to adversity. Instead of viewing obstacles as signs to stop, I learned to see them as opportunities to grow in discipline and perseverance. Prayer, reflection, and service became tools that helped me remain focused and hopeful. My faith taught me patience when progress felt slow and courage when decisions felt overwhelming. Each challenge I faced strengthened my belief that purpose is revealed through persistence. The triumphs I have achieved advancing my education, growing in responsibility, and serving others through healthcare are deeply connected to that foundation. Faith helped me remain grounded during success and resilient during setbacks. It also shaped my sense of responsibility to others. Serving in healthcare and volunteering in my community allowed me to live out my faith through action, treating others with dignity, compassion, and respect. To me, faith is not only belief; it is service and accountability. Looking ahead, I plan to continue using my faith as a guiding force as I pursue greater goals in healthcare. My long-term vision includes advancing my education and expanding my ability to support individuals and families navigating physical, emotional, and mental challenges. Faith will continue to guide how I lead, advocate, and serve ensuring that my work remains rooted in integrity and compassion rather than ambition alone. The legacy of Jim Maxwell reflects a commitment to nurturing the whole person spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. That legacy resonates with me because it mirrors the way faith has shaped my life. This scholarship would provide critical support during a demanding academic season and affirm that perseverance, service, and faith matter. I am committed to honoring that legacy by continuing to grow, serve, and pursue excellence with faith as my foundation and guide.

My experience with mental health has influenced every aspect of my life, from how I view myself to how I relate to others and shape my future goals. As a first-generation college student navigating higher education without a roadmap, mental health has been both a challenge and a teacher. Managing stress, responsibility, and uncertainty has required resilience, self-awareness, and intentional growth. As a student balancing academics, work, and family responsibilities, I learned early that mental health is foundational to success. There were periods when pressure, fatigue, and self-doubt made it difficult to stay focused or confident. Instead of ignoring these challenges, I had to learn how to acknowledge them, set boundaries, and develop healthier ways to cope. These experiences reshaped my beliefs about strength. I no longer view perseverance as pushing through at all costs, but as recognizing limits, asking for support, and continuing forward with intention. Mental health challenges also influenced how I approach relationships. I became more aware that many people carry struggles that are not immediately visible. This awareness made me more patient, empathetic, and attentive to the emotional needs of others. I learned the importance of listening without judgment and offering support without trying to “fix” everything. Whether with peers, family members, or colleagues, mental health awareness taught me that trust and understanding are built through presence and compassion. Being a first-generation student added another layer to this journey. Without family members who could guide me through college life, I often had to navigate stress and uncertainty independently. Learning how to advocate for myself academically and emotionally strengthened my independence and confidence. Over time, these experiences helped me develop healthier self-talk, realistic expectations, and a deeper belief in my ability to adapt and grow. My mental health journey has strongly influenced my career aspirations. Working in healthcare exposed me to how often mental health concerns are overlooked, minimized, or stigmatized. I have seen how emotional well-being directly affects physical health, decision-making, and quality of life. These observations, combined with my personal experiences, solidified my desire to pursue a career in mental health. My long-term goal is to continue advancing my education in nursing and ultimately become a provider who addresses both emotional and physical needs with compassion and respect. Mental health has also motivated my advocacy within my community. I encourage open conversations about stress, burnout, and emotional well-being by modeling balance and honesty. I make space for others to share without fear of judgment and emphasize that seeking help is a sign of strength. Advocacy, to me, means helping normalize conversations that too often happen in silence. Overall, my mental health experiences have shaped me into a more grounded, empathetic, and purpose-driven individual. They taught me that growth is not about avoiding struggle, but learning from it. As a first-generation student, these lessons continue to guide my education, relationships, and career goals. I am committed to using my experiences to support others, reduce stigma, and contribute to a more understanding and compassionate society.

Mental health is important to me as a student because it directly affects how I learn, function, and persist especially when balancing academic demands with personal responsibilities. As a nontraditional student navigating higher education while managing work, family, and financial stress, I have learned that mental well-being is not optional; it is foundational. When mental health is neglected, even the most motivated students can struggle to remain focused, engaged, and resilient. Throughout my educational journey, I have seen how stress, anxiety, and emotional exhaustion can quietly undermine academic success. Mental health challenges often do not appear as visible barriers, yet they influence concentration, confidence, and decision-making. As a student, I have had to be intentional about acknowledging stress, setting boundaries, and seeking balance rather than ignoring the signs of burnout. Recognizing the importance of mental health has allowed me to remain consistent in my studies and committed to my long-term goals instead of becoming overwhelmed by short-term pressure. My understanding of mental health also comes from my role within healthcare and my community. Working with patients and peers has shown me how frequently mental health concerns are overlooked or minimized, even when they significantly affect quality of life. I have witnessed individuals struggle silently due to stigma, fear of judgment, or lack of access to resources. These experiences reinforced my belief that mental health awareness must be normalized and supported at every level especially within educational environments where stress is often expected and unaddressed. I advocate for mental health in my community through open dialogue, education, and compassion. In academic and professional settings, I encourage conversations about stress management, burnout, and emotional well-being by modeling honesty and balance. I make it a point to check in with peers, listen without judgment, and remind others that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. At home, I prioritize emotional awareness and communication, reinforcing the importance of mental health as part of daily life. In addition to informal advocacy, my volunteer and professional work allows me to support mental well-being through service. Providing care in community settings has shown me how preventive support and education can reduce crisis situations before they escalate. Whether through patient education, reassurance, or simply being present, I strive to create environments where individuals feel seen and supported. Advocacy, to me, is not always public it is often quiet, consistent, and rooted in empathy. As a student pursuing a future in healthcare with a focus on mental health, I am committed to continuing this advocacy long-term. I want to help reduce stigma, improve access to care, and contribute to systems that recognize mental health as essential to overall success. Education has given me the tools to understand mental health more deeply, and advocacy allows me to put that understanding into action. Mental health matters because students are more than their grades or productivity. Supporting mental well-being allows individuals to thrive academically, personally, and professionally. Through awareness, compassion, and service, I am committed to being part of a community that values understanding over judgment and support over silence.

I am an undergraduate nursing student pursuing a career in healthcare because I believe healing is about more than treating illness it is about helping people regain stability, independence, and quality of life. My journey into healthcare has been shaped by service, resilience, and a deep respect for the impact compassionate care can have on individuals and families navigating difficult circumstances. My academic path has not been traditional, but it has been intentional. I earned my high school equivalency diploma as the only one of five siblings to do so, becoming a first-generation college student without a roadmap to higher education. From there, I entered healthcare by earning my Certified Nursing Assistant certification, advanced to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and am now completing my RN ADN degree. Each step reinforced my commitment to healthcare and clarified my long-term goals. What draws me to nursing is its alignment with functional, patient-centered care principles that closely reflect the values of occupational therapy. In my clinical experience, I have seen how illness, injury, and chronic conditions affect not only physical health, but a person’s ability to perform daily activities, maintain independence, and feel connected to their lives. Supporting patients through these challenges requires patience, adaptability, and an understanding of the whole person. These experiences shaped my desire to pursue advanced education and expand my role in improving patient outcomes. In addition to my professional experience, I volunteer in community settings administering vaccines at shelters, providing preventive care to individuals who often lack consistent access to healthcare. Volunteering has reinforced my belief that healthcare professionals have a responsibility to meet people where they are and support their ability to function safely and independently within their communities. These experiences continue to ground my academic goals in service and accountability. I plan to continue advancing my education with the long-term goal of becoming a nurse practitioner, with a focus on mental health and holistic care. I am particularly interested in working with individuals whose medical conditions impact daily functioning, emotional well-being, and quality of life. Like occupational therapy, my approach to nursing emphasizes restoring balance, supporting independence, and empowering patients through education and advocacy. Christina Taylese Singh’s story resonates with me because it reflects dedication to learning, service, and improving the lives of others through healthcare. Her commitment to occupational therapy and helping individuals regain function is a reminder of why this work matters. Although her journey was cut short, her purpose continues through students who are committed to compassionate, patient-centered care. Receiving this scholarship would support my continued education and allow me to deepen my impact in healthcare. I am committed to honoring Christina’s legacy by pursuing a career rooted in service, lifelong learning, and meaningful patient care helping individuals not only heal, but live fuller, more supported lives.

My faith is not something I separate from my daily life, it is the foundation that shapes how I serve others, respond to adversity, and make decisions about my future. As a Christian, I believe every life has inherent value and dignity, regardless of circumstance, prognosis, or stage of development. That belief has guided me through personal challenges and deeply influenced my commitment to being pro-life, particularly as I pursue a career in healthcare. Faith has helped me overcome adversity by giving me perspective during difficult seasons. As a first-generation college student, a single mother, and someone navigating higher education without generational guidance, there have been moments when the path forward felt overwhelming. During those times, my faith reminded me that perseverance, patience, and trust matter. I learned to rely on prayer, reflection, and service, rather than fear or discouragement. Faith grounded me when outcomes were uncertain and helped me continue moving forward with purpose. My pro-life beliefs are rooted in compassion, not judgment. Working in healthcare has reinforced my understanding that vulnerability is part of the human experience, especially during pregnancy, illness, or crisis. I believe supporting life means caring for both mother and child emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Natalie Joy Poremski’s story reflects a profound respect for life even in the face of heartbreak, and it resonates deeply with my values. Choosing to carry a pregnancy despite a devastating diagnosis demonstrates courage, love, and faith in the meaning of every life, no matter how brief. In my day-to-day life, I live out my faith by serving others with respect and empathy. In clinical settings, I strive to treat patients as whole individuals rather than diagnoses. I listen carefully, advocate when needed, and provide care with compassion and dignity. Being pro-life, to me, means showing up consistently for people at their most vulnerable moments before birth, during illness, and throughout all stages of life. It means recognizing that every person deserves to be seen, heard, and protected. My faith has also shaped my future goals. I am pursuing a career in healthcare with the long-term goal of advancing my education to serve patients more comprehensively. I want to be a provider who upholds ethical care, values life, and supports families navigating complex medical decisions. Through education, I plan to advocate for patient-centered care that respects life while providing clear information, emotional support, and medical integrity. I intend to use my education to enact change by promoting compassionate healthcare practices and supporting policies and systems that protect life at all stages. Whether through direct patient care, education, or advocacy, I want my work to reflect my faith and my commitment to life. Honoring Natalie Joy Poremski’s legacy means continuing to affirm that every life matters and using my education to serve others with courage, conviction, and grace.

One of the most significant obstacles I have faced was continuing my education while navigating financial hardship, single parenthood, and the absence of generational guidance. As a first-generation college student in Texas, I earned my high school equivalency diploma as the only one of five siblings to do so. Without a clear roadmap or safety net, pursuing higher education required resilience, discipline, and the willingness to continue even when progress felt slow. Giving up would have been easier, but I understood that persistence was necessary not only for my future, but for the stability of my family and the community I serve. Rather than allowing these challenges to derail my goals, I approached them incrementally. I began my career in healthcare by becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant, then advanced to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and am now completing my RN ADN degree as an undergraduate student. Each step forward required balancing work, school, and parenting responsibilities, often under financial strain. I learned to manage obstacles by planning carefully, remaining flexible, and maintaining focus on long-term outcomes instead of immediate setbacks. Overcoming adversity for me was not a single moment of triumph, but a continuous commitment to moving forward. Leadership has been a natural extension of this journey. In healthcare, leadership is not always about titles, it is about accountability, advocacy, and consistency. I have demonstrated leadership by showing up for patients who are vulnerable, overwhelmed, or underserved. I take responsibility seriously, whether educating patients, supporting colleagues, or ensuring that care is delivered safely and respectfully. These actions contribute directly to community well-being and reflect my commitment to service. Beyond my professional role, I also demonstrate leadership through community involvement. I volunteer administering vaccines at shelters, providing preventive care to individuals who may not otherwise have access to healthcare services. This work supports public health, reduces preventable illness, and strengthens community safety. Leadership, to me, means recognizing needs and stepping in where support is lacking, not for recognition, but because it matters. Living and studying in Texas has reinforced my desire to serve my community long-term. I understand the impact that access, education, and advocacy can have on public safety and quality of life. Whether through healthcare delivery, community outreach, or mentorship, I aim to contribute to environments where people feel protected, informed, and supported. My career path is driven by the belief that strong communities are built through service-oriented leadership and personal accountability. Jimmy Cardenas’ legacy represents resilience, dedication, and commitment to community protection. I strive to embody those same values by overcoming obstacles with determination and leading through action. This scholarship would support my continued education and allow me to expand my ability to serve others. I am committed to building a safer, healthier community by choosing perseverance over surrender and leadership over complacency.

I plan to improve the lives of others through a healthcare career rooted in advocacy, education, and patient-centered care, particularly for individuals living with lung disease and rare medical conditions. Throughout my journey in healthcare, I have learned that these patients often face more than physical symptoms they navigate uncertainty, limited resources, and systems that are not always designed to meet their complex needs. My goal is to be a provider who helps bridge those gaps. My interest in caring for individuals with chronic and rare conditions developed early, long before I had formal clinical training. I witnessed firsthand how long-term illness affects not only patients, but also families who must learn to live around hospitalizations, flare-ups, and unanswered questions. These experiences shaped my understanding of healthcare as something that must extend beyond treatment plans to include communication, education, and emotional support. Patients with rare or chronic lung conditions often become experts in their own bodies, yet still struggle to be fully heard. I want to change that experience. As a nurse pursuing continued education, I am committed to improving quality of life through consistency and informed care. In clinical settings, patients with lung disease often require careful monitoring, clear education, and strong advocacy to prevent complications and unnecessary hospitalizations. I plan to focus on patient education ensuring individuals understand their conditions, medications, and warning signs, so they can participate actively in their care. Knowledge empowers patients, particularly those managing lifelong or rare illnesses. I am also deeply aware of how access and equity influence outcomes. Individuals with rare conditions frequently encounter delays in diagnosis, fragmented care, or dismissal of symptoms. Through my career, I intend to advocate for thorough assessment, interdisciplinary collaboration, and respect for patient experiences. Whether supporting someone with chronic respiratory disease or a rare diagnosis that lacks clear protocols, I aim to approach care with curiosity, humility, and persistence. In addition to direct patient care, I am committed to community-based impact. I volunteer in settings that provide preventive care to underserved populations, and I have seen how early intervention and education can prevent complications before they escalate. For individuals with lung disease, access to preventive services, vaccinations, and consistent follow-up can significantly improve outcomes. I plan to continue supporting these efforts and encouraging healthcare systems to meet patients where they are. Looking ahead, my long-term goal is to advance my education and expand my scope of practice so I can contribute more deeply to the care of patients with complex medical needs. I want to be a healthcare professional who listens closely, advocates relentlessly, and treats each patient as a whole person rather than a diagnosis. Improving lives, to me, means reducing fear, increasing understanding, and ensuring that no one feels invisible within the healthcare system. Honoring the legacy of Sammy Hason, Sr. means carrying forward a commitment to learning, compassion, and service. Through my healthcare career, I am dedicated to improving the lives of individuals with lung disease and rare conditions by providing informed, respectful, and patient-centered care, one person, one conversation, and one moment at a time.

Education has given my life direction at moments when circumstances could have easily limited my vision. It did not arrive as a straight path or a single turning point, but as a gradual process that reshaped how I think, plan, and persist. Through education, I learned that progress does not require perfection or privilege only consistency, purpose, and belief in who you are becoming. My academic journey did not follow a traditional route. I earned my high school equivalency diploma as the only one of five siblings to do so, becoming a first-generation college student without a roadmap or generational guidance. At that stage of my life, education represented access more than achievement. I did not pursue it with certainty, but with hope. Without financial security or academic mentorship, every decision had to be intentional. Education became the foundation that allowed me to imagine stability, growth, and contribution beyond immediate survival. That sense of direction strengthened when I entered healthcare. I began by earning my Certified Nursing Assistant certification, then advanced to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and am now completing my RN ADN degree. Each step forward clarified my goals and reinforced my confidence. Education taught me how to break long-term objectives into achievable milestones and how to remain disciplined during demanding seasons. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by how far I still had to go, I learned to focus on steady progress. This mindset shift reshaped how I approach challenges both academically and personally. Throughout this journey, I faced ongoing obstacles. Financial insecurity has been a constant reality, requiring me to balance full-time work, rigorous coursework, and family responsibilities. As a single mother to a school-aged child, I carry the responsibility of creating both emotional and financial stability at home. There have been moments when exhaustion, stress, and limited resources made progress feel slow or uncertain. During those times, education provided structure. It gave me a framework for planning, a reason to persist, and reassurance that short-term sacrifice could lead to long-term opportunity. Navigating higher education without family guidance required resilience and self-advocacy. I had to learn how to manage deadlines, seek academic resources, and ask questions without fear of appearing unprepared. This process was uncomfortable at times, but it strengthened my independence and confidence. Education taught me that growth often requires discomfort and that seeking support is a skill, not a weakness. These lessons continue to shape how I approach leadership, learning, and accountability. Education also changed how I define independence. Before returning to school, my focus was centered on meeting immediate needs and maintaining stability. Through my academic journey, I learned how to think beyond survival and plan intentionally for the future. Education gave me the confidence to set long-term goals, make informed decisions, and trust my ability to follow through. It shifted my mindset from reacting to circumstances to actively shaping outcomes. This growth influences how I parent, how I work, and how I approach challenges with purpose rather than pressure. My training and experience in healthcare further shaped my sense of responsibility to others. I have seen firsthand how limited access to education and resources affects health outcomes. I have worked with patients who delayed care due to cost, fear, or lack of understanding, and I have witnessed how compassionate, informed care can restore dignity and trust. These experiences reinforced my belief that education is most impactful when it is used in service of others. In addition to my professional development, I volunteer administering vaccines at community shelters, providing preventive care to individuals who may not otherwise receive it. These experiences remind me that education does not end in the classroom. When applied intentionally, it becomes a tool for reducing barriers, promoting equity, and improving quality of life for underserved communities. They reinforce why I chose healthcare and why continuing my education matters. Looking ahead, I plan to continue advancing my education and expanding my impact in healthcare. My long-term goal is to become a nurse practitioner specializing in mental health. Mental health care remains under-resourced and stigmatized, particularly in communities facing economic and social challenges. Through education, I hope to provide holistic, accessible care that addresses both physical and emotional well-being. I want to be a provider who listens, advocates, and supports individuals with compassion and accountability. Ultimately, education has given me more than credentials it has given me clarity. It taught me that where I started does not limit where I can go, and that perseverance paired with purpose creates opportunity. I hope to use my education to create a better future not only for myself and my child, but for the communities I serve. By continuing to learn, grow, and give back, I aim to honor the belief that who I am becoming matters just as much as where I am going.

Adversity has never appeared in my life as a single, defining moment it has existed as a series of ongoing physical and mental challenges that required resilience, discipline, and intentional action. As a female undergraduate nursing student, single mother, and working healthcare professional, continuing to pursue my career aspirations has required me to develop systems that allow me to move forward even when circumstances are demanding. One of the most significant challenges I have faced is balancing the mental and physical demands of nursing education with parenting and financial responsibility. Long hours, clinical expectations, and academic pressure often overlap with caregiving responsibilities and limited rest. Rather than allowing these challenges to derail my goals, I approached them strategically. I created structured routines, set realistic expectations, and learned to prioritize progress over perfection. These steps allowed me to remain consistent, even during periods of exhaustion or uncertainty. Mental resilience has been just as critical as physical endurance. There were moments when self-doubt surfaced when navigating higher education without generational guidance, managing financial strain, or questioning whether I could sustain the pace required to succeed. In response, I leaned into accountability rather than isolation. I sought mentorship, relied on academic planning, and reminded myself why I chose healthcare in the first place. Maintaining focus on long-term goals helped me reframe adversity as a challenge to manage, not a reason to stop. Professionally, I continued advancing despite obstacles by taking my career step by step. I earned my high school equivalency diploma, progressed through Certified Nursing Assistant and Licensed Vocational Nurse roles, and am now completing my RN ADN degree. Each transition required persistence, adaptability, and courage especially in moments when external support was limited. Continuing my education while working and parenting demanded bravery not in bold gestures, but in showing up daily and following through. Physical fatigue has been a constant companion throughout this journey. Managing coursework, clinical responsibilities, employment, and motherhood requires stamina and self-awareness. I learned to respect my limits without surrendering my goals. By planning ahead, maintaining boundaries, and allowing myself rest when necessary, I protected my ability to continue. These strategies have allowed me to remain effective, present, and committed to my career path. The steps I have taken to overcome adversity reflect my belief that resilience is built through action. Bravery, to me, is choosing consistency when circumstances make quitting easier. It is continuing to pursue education despite obstacles, trusting that perseverance will lead to opportunity. Honoring Audra Dominguez’s legacy means recognizing the quiet strength required to move forward in the face of adversity. My journey demonstrates that determination does not require perfect conditions only commitment. Through discipline, planning, and purpose, I continue to work toward my career aspirations, confident that each challenge I overcome strengthens the professional and person I am becoming.

Balancing my education with my responsibilities as a single mother is not an abstract plan it is a reality I navigate every day. I am the sole provider for my seven-year-old daughter, Israel, and every academic and professional decision I make is guided by intention, structure, and long-term stability. Pursuing my degree is not separate from my role as a parent; it is directly connected to the future I am building for both of us. Time management and discipline are essential to maintaining balance. I carefully structure my schedule around Israel’s school hours, study time, and work commitments. I rely on consistency, establishing routines that allow me to remain present as a mother while meeting the demands of full-time coursework. This often means studying late in the evenings, planning weeks in advance, and staying flexible when unexpected challenges arise. While the workload can be demanding, my commitment to both my education and my child keeps me focused and accountable. Being a single parent has required me to develop resilience and adaptability. There are times when responsibilities overlap exams coincide with school events, or coursework competes with parenting needs but I have learned how to adjust without losing momentum. Israel is not an obstacle to my education; she is my motivation. She sees the discipline and effort it takes to pursue a goal, and I am intentional about modeling perseverance, responsibility, and the value of education through my actions. Financially, balancing school and parenting presents one of the greatest challenges. Covering tuition, textbooks, childcare needs, and everyday living expenses on a single income requires constant prioritization. While I remain committed to completing my degree regardless of circumstance, financial strain can create unnecessary barriers that slow progress and increase stress. This scholarship would provide meaningful relief by helping offset educational expenses, allowing me to focus more fully on academic success and less on financial survival. Earning my degree is essential to creating long-term stability for my family. As a nursing student completing my RN ADN program, my goal is to secure a career that provides both financial security and the ability to serve others. Advancing my education allows me to expand my impact in healthcare while ensuring I can provide a stable, supportive environment for my daughter. Education, for me, is not only a personal achievement, it is the foundation for generational progress. This scholarship would support more than my academic goals; it would reinforce my ability to balance motherhood and education without compromise. By easing financial pressure, it would help me maintain momentum toward graduation while remaining fully present for Israel. I am committed to completing my degree, building a meaningful career, and showing my daughter that perseverance and education can coexist with love, responsibility, and purpose.

My understanding of mental health developed long before I had the language to describe it. Growing up in a single-parent household with limited resources, I learned early how stress, responsibility, and emotional resilience shape people’s lives. I saw how unaddressed mental strain can affect relationships, decision-making, and overall well-being, often silently. These experiences shaped my belief that mental health deserves the same attention, compassion, and legitimacy as physical health. As I moved into healthcare, my perspective deepened. Working as a nurse, I encountered patients whose mental health challenges were often overlooked or minimized in clinical settings. Anxiety, depression, trauma, and burnout frequently existed alongside physical illness, yet were not always addressed with the same urgency. Seeing this reinforced my belief that mental health care must be integrated, accessible, and stigma-free. It also strengthened my resolve to be a provider who treats the whole person, not just symptoms. My experiences have also influenced how I approach relationships. I have learned the importance of listening without judgment, communicating with intention, and recognizing when someone needs support rather than solutions. Mental health awareness has made me more patient, empathetic, and mindful of the unseen struggles people carry. These qualities have shaped both my personal interactions and my professional practice, allowing me to build trust with patients and colleagues alike. Academically and professionally, my journey has been shaped by persistence and purpose. I earned my high school equivalency diploma, progressed through Certified Nursing Assistant and Licensed Vocational Nurse roles, and am now pursuing my RN ADN degree. Each step has strengthened my desire to advance further. My long-term goal is to become a Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse Practitioner, specializing in providing compassionate, evidence-based care to individuals navigating mental health challenges. I am particularly interested in serving underserved populations, where access to mental health services is often limited and stigma remains a significant barrier. Mental health has influenced my career aspirations by clarifying what kind of provider I want to be. I want to create spaces where patients feel safe discussing their struggles, where mental health concerns are validated, and where treatment plans consider emotional, social, and cultural factors. I believe education and advocacy are powerful tools in reducing stigma, and I hope to contribute through patient education, community outreach, and mentorship within the healthcare field. Through my career, I plan to make a positive impact by normalizing conversations around mental health and improving access to care. By advancing my education and clinical expertise, I aim to support individuals and families in navigating mental health challenges with dignity and understanding. Investing in mental health professionals is an investment in stronger communities, healthier families, and better outcomes overall. This scholarship would support my continued education and affirm my commitment to a career dedicated to mental health care. My journey has taught me that awareness leads to understanding, and understanding leads to meaningful change. I am committed to being part of that change one patient, one conversation, and one act of care at a time.

Being raised by a single mother profoundly shaped who I am and how I approach my goals. From an early age, I watched her manage responsibilities that many people never have to face alone providing financially, offering emotional support, and making difficult decisions with limited resources. She carried those responsibilities with strength and consistency, and in doing so, modeled resilience, accountability, and perseverance. Her example became the foundation for how I navigate my own life. Growing up in a single-parent household meant learning independence early. There was no safety net of multiple incomes or shared decision-making. Instead, there was determination, sacrifice, and a constant focus on doing what needed to be done. I learned the value of hard work not through lectures, but through observation. Watching my mother show up every day despite financial strain and exhaustion taught me that success is built on discipline and follow-through, not convenience. Her influence directly shaped my educational journey. With limited guidance and resources, I had to take ownership of my path early. I earned my high school equivalency diploma and continued pursuing education through healthcare, becoming a Certified Nursing Assistant, then a Licensed Vocational Nurse, and now an undergraduate student working toward my RN ADN degree. Each step forward required planning, sacrifice, and belief in long-term goals, values I learned at home. My mother’s example made it clear that progress is earned incrementally and that giving up is not an option. Being raised by a single parent also shaped my empathy. I became acutely aware of how financial stress, responsibility, and lack of support affect families. That awareness now informs how I show up for others, particularly in healthcare and community settings. I understand that people often carry invisible burdens, and I approach others with patience and respect because I saw firsthand how much strength it takes just to keep moving forward. In the future, I plan to continue using my talents to help people through service-oriented work, particularly in healthcare and community outreach. I want to support individuals and families who face challenges similar to those I grew up around financial instability, limited access to resources, and high levels of responsibility. Whether through direct patient care, education, or mentorship, my goal is to contribute to environments where people feel supported, understood, and empowered. The legacy my mother gave me is not one of hardship, but of capability. She showed me that circumstances do not define potential, and that impact comes from consistency and integrity. As I move forward, I carry her example with me, using the lessons she taught me to build a future centered on service, responsibility, and meaningful contribution. This scholarship would support that journey and honor the kind of perseverance that single parents demonstrate every day.

One of the most formative adversities I faced occurred during my adolescence, when I was closely connected to a family navigating the realities of chronic childhood illness. My best friend’s family became my second family, and her younger sister lived with Sickle Cell Disease. Long before I had any clinical training or understanding of healthcare systems, I witnessed repeated hospitalizations, unpredictable pain crises, and the emotional strain that illness placed on both the child and her family. At a young age, I learned that adversity does not affect individuals in isolation it reshapes entire families. At the time, I viewed this adversity with a mix of confusion and helplessness. I could not fix the pain or change the outcome, and I often struggled to understand why a child had to endure so much so early in life. What stood out most to me was not only the physical suffering, but the emotional resilience required of a child who had to mature quickly, and of family members who learned to live in a constant state of vigilance. I also became aware of how healthcare environments could feel overwhelming, intimidating, or dismissive especially for families already carrying emotional and financial burdens. My plan of action, though unrefined at the time, was rooted in presence and responsibility. I showed up consistently offering support, listening, and learning. As I grew older, that sense of responsibility evolved into purpose. I recognized that I wanted to work in a field where I could support children and families navigating adversity, not just medically, but emotionally. This realization guided my decision to pursue healthcare and shaped the values I carry into my work today. As I advanced in my education and career, eventually becoming a nurse, my understanding of adversity deepened. I learned how systemic barriers, limited access, and lack of advocacy disproportionately affect children and families dealing with illness. This awareness influenced how I approach patient care, particularly with pediatric patients and families under stress. I strive to communicate clearly, treat families with respect, and recognize the emotional weight that illness places on children who are still developing their understanding of the world. This experience fundamentally changed my perception of life. I no longer see adversity as something that simply interrupts life; I see it as something that reveals character, priorities, and the importance of compassion. It taught me that children facing health challenges deserve not only medical treatment, but patience, reassurance, and professionals who recognize the family as part of the care team. Honoring Sarah Eber’s legacy means continuing to show up for children and families during their most vulnerable moments. My journey has taught me that adversity can be transformed into purpose when met with empathy and action. Through my education and career in healthcare, I am committed to supporting children and families with the same consistency and care that once shaped my own path.

Service has been the most consistent thread throughout my life, long before I understood it as a career path. I learned early that helping others often happens quietly, through reliability and follow-through rather than recognition. Growing up with limited financial resources and no generational access to higher education, I learned to rely on discipline, self-motivation, and a strong sense of responsibility. Those qualities ultimately led me into healthcare, where service is not an abstract idea but a daily commitment. I began my journey by earning my high school equivalency diploma, becoming the only one of five siblings to do so. Without financial resources or academic guidance, every step forward required self-discipline and determination. From there, I earned my Certified Nursing Assistant certification, advanced to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and am now continuing my education as an undergraduate nursing student in an RN ADN program. Each milestone was achieved while balancing work, family responsibilities, and financial strain. Despite these challenges, I have remained focused because I understand what access to education makes possible not just for me, but for those I serve. Healthcare became my calling long before it became my profession. Through years of hands-on patient care, I have seen how vulnerable populations are often impacted by limited access to healthcare, education, and advocacy. I have worked with patients who delay care due to cost, fear, or lack of information, and I have seen how small interventions listening, educating, following through can make a meaningful difference. These experiences reinforced my commitment to a career centered on service rather than status. In addition to my professional work, I volunteer at community shelters administering vaccines, including COVID-19, influenza, pneumonia, and Hepatitis B. These opportunities allow me to meet people where they are and provide preventive care to individuals who may not otherwise receive it. Volunteering reminds me that healthcare is not confined to hospitals or clinics; it extends into communities, shelters, and everyday spaces where people need support the most. My long-term goal is to continue advancing my education and leadership in nursing so I can advocate for equitable, patient-centered care. I plan to serve underserved communities, mentor future healthcare professionals, and contribute to initiatives that improve access to preventive services and health education. I want my career to reflect accountability, compassion, and service values that align with Robert F. Lawson’s legacy of continued commitment to helping others even after formal service ended. Receiving the Robert F. Lawson Scholarship would ease the financial burden of my education and allow me to stay focused on completing my degree. More importantly, it would support my mission to give back through a career dedicated to improving lives. I intend to use my education not only to advance professionally, but to create meaningful change for individuals and communities who deserve care, dignity, and opportunity.

Adversity has been a constant presence in my life, but it has also been one of my greatest teachers. As a Black, first-generation college student, I have experienced firsthand how unequal access to education can limit opportunity before potential is ever recognized. I grew up in an environment where education was valued, but academic guidance, financial support, and mentorship were limited. As the only one of five siblings to earn a high school equivalency diploma and pursue higher education, I had to navigate every step independently. These barriers were not a reflection of my ability or motivation, but of systemic gaps in access an adversity that has shaped my persistence, resilience, and commitment to continue moving forward. One of the most defining challenges I faced was deciding to return to school after earning my GED. Without a traditional academic foundation or family members who could guide me through higher education, pursuing a career in healthcare felt intimidating and uncertain. Financial strain, lack of mentorship, and balancing work and family responsibilities made progress difficult at times. There were moments when I questioned whether I truly belonged in academic spaces that were unfamiliar and often unwelcoming to students like me. Rather than allowing these challenges to stop me, I chose to take my journey one step at a time. I earned my Certified Nursing Assistant certification, advanced to Licensed Vocational Nurse, and am now continuing my education as an undergraduate nursing student in an RN ADN program. Each step required discipline, sacrifice, and an unwavering belief that forward progress no matter how incremental was meaningful. Overcoming adversity did not happen all at once; it happened through consistency and the decision to keep going even when the path was unclear. These experiences have shaped the way I show up in both education and healthcare. I understand how systemic barriers affect people not only as students, but also as patients. This awareness has strengthened my commitment to advocacy and service. I currently volunteer at community shelters administering vaccines, including COVID-19, influenza, pneumonia, and Hepatitis B. Serving individuals who often lack consistent access to healthcare reinforces why persistence matters not just for personal success, but for the ability to uplift others who face similar barriers. The advice I would give to someone facing similar circumstances is this: do not let an unconventional path convince you that you are unqualified. Progress does not have to look traditional to be legitimate. Ask questions, seek out resources, and measure success by growth rather than comparison. Most importantly, understand that adversity does not disqualify you it equips you with perspective, strength, and purpose. Honoring the legacy of Simon M. Humphrey means continuing to pursue education despite obstacles and using that education to create opportunity for others. I am committed to doing exactly that advancing my education, serving underserved communities, and helping to build pathways where access once felt out of reach. My journey is proof that resilience paired with opportunity can lead to meaningful impact.

Education is important to me because it represents possibility where there once were limitations. I am a first-generation college student and the only one among my five siblings to have earned a high school equivalency diploma. Growing up, education was valued, but access, guidance, and resources were limited. There was no roadmap for college, no family members who could explain applications, financial aid, or long-term academic planning. Every step I have taken has been self-directed, earned through persistence rather than privilege. Obtaining my GED was my first major milestone. It was not the end of my education, but the beginning of believing that more was possible. From there, I pursued my Certified Nursing Assistant certification, followed by becoming a Licensed Vocational Nurse. Each step required sacrifice, discipline, and faith in a future I could not yet fully see. Now, as an undergraduate nursing student in an RN ADN program, education continues to be the foundation that allows me to expand my opportunities, my voice, and my impact. As a first-generation student, the pressure to succeed carries more weight than just personal ambition. I am not only working toward my own goals, but toward changing what is possible for my family. With no generational examples of higher education, I have had to learn how to navigate academic systems independently, often through trial and error. Despite this, I have remained committed, resilient, and focused. Education has taught me how to advocate for myself, manage responsibility, and persevere even when the path feels isolating. Education matters to me because it has allowed me to transform my lived experiences into purpose. In healthcare, knowledge directly translates into safer, more effective care for patients. Advancing my education means expanding my ability to advocate, lead, and serve others, especially those who come from backgrounds similar to mine. It is not just about earning a degree, but about building competence, credibility, and confidence in spaces where people like me are often underrepresented. The legacy I hope to leave is one of upward momentum and example. I want my journey to show my family, my child, and others watching that education does not have to follow a traditional timeline to be meaningful. I hope to leave behind proof that perseverance can break cycles, and that progress is built step by step. By continuing my education, I am creating a new standard for what is possible in my family, one rooted in determination, stability, and service. Receiving this scholarship would not only support my academic journey, but affirm the value of first-generation students who persist despite limited resources. I intend to leave a legacy that extends beyond myself, one that opens doors for future generations and demonstrates that education is a powerful tool for change when paired with resilience and purpose. Thank you.

Giving back has always been a natural extension of who I am and why I chose healthcare. I currently volunteer at a local shelter, where I assist with administering vaccines such as COVID-19, influenza, pneumonia, and Hepatitis B. While these events may only occur once or twice a year, the impact is significant. Many of the individuals we serve face barriers to healthcare access, including homelessness, financial instability, and limited trust in medical systems. Providing vaccines in this setting is often the only preventive care they receive all year. As a nurse, I understand that public health measures like vaccination are not just clinical tasks, they are acts of protection and dignity. During these volunteer events, I do more than administer injections. I educate individuals about what they are receiving, address concerns or hesitations, and treat each person with respect. Many arrive anxious or unsure, and leave feeling heard and cared for. These moments reinforce my belief that service does not require constant visibility; it requires consistency, competence, and compassion when it matters most. My commitment to service is also shaped by my long-standing career in nursing. Through years of hands-on patient care, I have learned that vulnerable populations often fall through the cracks of the healthcare system. Volunteering allows me to step outside traditional clinical settings and meet people where they are, offering care without judgment or barriers. This aligns closely with the values Priscilla Shireen Luke embodied, selflessness, hope, and service to others. Looking toward the future, I plan to expand my impact by advancing my education through an RN bridge program and continuing to serve underserved communities. My goal is to combine clinical expertise with leadership to advocate for accessible, preventative healthcare. I want to be involved in initiatives that bring education, vaccination, and health resources directly into communities that are often overlooked, including shelters, transitional housing programs, and community clinics. I also hope to mentor future nurses and encourage them to view service as an essential part of professional practice, not an optional addition. By leading through example, I want to help cultivate healthcare professionals who understand the importance of empathy, cultural awareness, and community engagement. Service-oriented healthcare providers are critical to building trust and improving outcomes, especially among marginalized populations. Receiving the Priscilla Shireen Luke Memorial Scholarship would support my continued education and allow me to deepen my commitment to service. More importantly, it would affirm the values I strive to live by using my skills to uplift others and contribute to a healthier, more equitable world. I am dedicated to carrying forward a legacy of service by showing up for others with purpose, integrity, and compassion.

I chose healthcare because it is where compassion, responsibility, and accountability intersect and where I learned early on that presence can matter as much as treatment. Long before I became a nurse, I was exposed to the realities of chronic illness through my best friend’s family, who became my second family during middle school. Her sister lives with Sickle Cell Disease, and I witnessed more hospitalizations, pain crises, and emotional strain than I could count. Those experiences shaped my understanding of healthcare before I ever stepped into a clinical role. Watching her sister navigate repeated hospital stays taught me that healthcare is not just about managing conditions, but about how patients are treated within the system. I saw moments of empathy and moments of dismissal. I saw how advocacy or the lack of it could change outcomes and experiences. Even before I had a title or credentials, I understood that healthcare can be overwhelming, inequitable, and deeply personal, especially for patients from underserved communities. That understanding stayed with me and ultimately guided my career path. I am currently a Licensed Practical Nurse with over a decade of experience and am enrolled in an RN bridge program to continue advancing my education and scope of practice. Throughout my career, I have worked closely with patients who are medically complex, emotionally vulnerable, and often unheard. I have also grown into leadership roles, which have reinforced my belief that strong healthcare professionals must combine clinical skill with integrity, communication, and follow-through. Returning to school was not an easy decision, but it was a necessary one. I want to expand my impact, strengthen patient advocacy, and contribute at a higher level within healthcare systems. Pursuing nursing education comes with significant financial challenges. Balancing tuition, textbooks, clinical requirements, work obligations, and family responsibilities requires constant sacrifice. Like many healthcare students, I have had to carefully weigh financial stability against long-term professional growth. Scholarships like the Jeune-Mondestin Scholarship make a meaningful difference by reducing the financial strain that forces so many capable students to delay or abandon their goals. This support allows me to remain focused on my education rather than simply surviving the cost of it. The difference I hope to make through my future endeavors is rooted in leadership, advocacy, and access to quality care. I want to continue serving patients with chronic illnesses, mentor future nurses, and contribute to healthcare environments that value dignity and equity. My goal is not just to work in healthcare, but to strengthen it by being a nurse who listens, leads responsibly, and understands the human experience behind every diagnosis. Receiving the Jeune-Mondestin Scholarship would be both practical and affirming. It would ease the financial burden of my education while supporting my commitment to a field where I have already invested years of service. More importantly, it would help me continue building a career dedicated to making healthcare more compassionate, accessible, and effective one patient, one family, and one decision at a time.

To the selection committee and Deborah Stevens, whose twenty-five years of dedication illuminates this path, The call to nursing is rarely a single moment, but a tapestry woven from many threads of experience, observation, and a deep-seated desire to serve. For me, that call was first threaded through the small, trusting hands of my youngest cousin during her long hospitalization for cystic fibrosis. I was a teenager, feeling helpless, until I watched her pediatric nurse. This nurse didn’t just administer treatments; she entered my cousin’s world. She negotiated medication through the framework of a princess’s magic potion and transformed a daunting spirometer into a dragon-slaying trumpet. In that space of fear, the nurse became a bridge translating medical complexity into a language of courage for a child, and providing unwavering clarity and comfort for our anxious family. That experience planted the seed: nursing is the profound alchemy of merging clinical excellence with profound human connection. It is the ultimate act of service, meeting people at their most vulnerable and equipping them with strength, knowledge, and care. While this foundational understanding drew me to the nursing profession as a whole, my focus has narrowed with purpose and passion toward the pediatric specialty. Pediatric nursing is not merely nursing for smaller humans; it is a unique discipline that cares for the developing child within the context of their family and their entire future. The nurse becomes a crucial developmental partner. We have the extraordinary responsibility and privilege of impacting a life at its most formative stages, where a positive healthcare experience can shape a lifelong relationship with wellness, and compassionate care can mitigate the trauma of illness. My interest is rooted in this holistic perspective. I am drawn to the challenge and reward of communicating across developmental stages, from interpreting the nonverbal cues of an infant to engaging in honest, age-appropriate dialogue with a teenager. I want to be the clinician who can ease a toddler’s fear during a vaccination and also sensitively address the anxieties of an adolescent managing a chronic diagnosis. Furthermore, pediatric nursing embodies family centered care. Supporting a child means empowering their parents, siblings, and guardians, providing education and emotional scaffolding so the entire family unit can heal and thrive. In a world where childhood is increasingly fraught with both medical and societal pressures, the pediatric nurse stands as an advocate, a healer, and a steady, reassuring presence. The growing nursing shortage, particularly in specialized fields, is not a deterrent but a clarion call. The legacy of nurses like Deborah Stevens a quarter-century of commitment to our most vulnerable population proves that this career is a marathon of compassion, one that creates an incalculable ripple effect. I am applying to the nursing program at Galen College of Nursing with the explicit goal of entering this vital field. I am driven by a resolve to contribute to the next generation of pediatric nurses: professionals who are as intellectually curious as they are empathetic, as skilled in advanced clinical procedures as they are in the simple, transformative act of listening. This scholarship would be more than financial aid; it would be an investment in that future. It would allow me to dedicate myself fully to the rigorous academic and clinical demands of nursing school, preparing me to join the essential ranks of pediatric nurses. I am committed to honoring Deborah Stevens’s legacy by striving to become a nurse who sees not just a patient, but a whole child, and not just an illness, but a story where I can help ensure a healthier, brighter chapter. Thank you for your consideration.

To the Family of Stephan Laurence Wolley and the Selection Committee, Thank you for establishing this scholarship in honor of a life lived with dedication to family, faith, and the spirit of competition. Stephan’s story resonates deeply with me as a homeschooled student-athlete whose own life has been built on those same pillars. The discipline of football and the close knit dynamic of my family have not only shaped my character but have directly inspired my future path in nursing. It is with sincere respect for Stephan’s memory that I submit my application. My education began within the walls of my home, guided by my parents’ commitment to a values centered learning environment. Homeschooling my siblings and me fostered a unique family team dynamic where accountability, self-motivation, and mutual support were daily lessons. Balancing a self-directed academic schedule with the rigorous demands of athletic training taught me profound time management and personal discipline skills that are the bedrock of both nursing and sports. This foundation taught me that true strength is often built in quiet, consistent effort, and that the strongest teams are rooted in unwavering support. For over ten years, the football field has been my other classroom. As a linebacker, I learned to read complex situations, anticipate challenges, and lead under pressure. The sport ingrained in me a deep understanding of the human body, resilience in the face of setbacks, and the critical importance of trust, the trust a player places in a teammate’s block, and the trust I will need a patient to place in my care. My homeschool background required me to seek out and commit fiercely to every athletic opportunity, traveling long distances to practice and prove myself, which only solidified my perseverance and dedication. My future is a direct extension of these experiences. This fall, I will attend Galen College of Nursing to pursue my Bachelor of Science in Nursing. My goal is to become a Family Nurse Practitioner specializing in sports medicine, a path that uniquely merges my lifelong understanding of athleticism with a calling to serve and heal. I aim to work with athletes at all levels, helping them optimize performance, navigate injury recovery with compassion, and manage the physical transitions of their sporting lives. I see this not merely as a career, but as a ministry of care for the community that has given me so much. This scholarship would be a vital support in achieving these goals, alleviating financial pressure and allowing me to focus wholly on my dual commitment to academic excellence and collegiate athletics. More importantly, to be a recipient of an award honoring Stephan Laurence Wolley would be a profound honor. I would carry his legacy forward by embodying the principles he valued: being a devoted family member, maintaining faith through adversity, and competing with integrity in every aspect of life. I am committed to bringing good from your loss by striving to become a healthcare professional who heals with the heart of an athlete and the dedication of a teammate. Thank you for your consideration.

My motivation for pursuing advanced education to become a Registered Nurse is rooted in a specific, transformative moment that revealed both the profound impact and the frustrating limitations of my current role. As a Licensed Vocational Nurse, I have spent years at the bedside, providing hands-on care and forming deep connections with patients. I am skilled at managing care plans, but I am not authorized to create them. I am adept at explaining treatments, but I cannot independently assess a change in condition and alter the course of therapy. This professional ceiling became viscerally clear during my grandfather’s COVID-19 hospitalization, when our family’s lifeline was his RN, Shawna. She possessed the clinical authority to interpret complex data, the autonomy to adjust his immediate care, and the leadership to guide our terrified family. She didn't just implement care; she orchestrated it with a blend of expertise and profound humanity. In that moment, I saw the nurse I needed to become. My motivation is to cross that threshold from skilled task completer to autonomous clinical decision-maker, to translate my hard-earned experience into greater responsibility and deeper impact. Pursuing my RN is not a departure from my path, but its essential next chapter. It is the means to move from reacting to a patient’s decline to proactively preventing it. It is the credential that will allow me to be the primary advocate in a care conference, to educate a newly diagnosed diabetic patient with full authority, and to mentor incoming CNAs and LVNs from a place of expanded knowledge. I am driven by the patients I’ve met whose stories of feeling unheard in the healthcare system stay with me, and by the stark health disparities I’ve witnessed in my community. An RN degree provides the platform to address these issues not just with compassion, but with influential, evidence-based practice. This scholarship from Skin, Bones, Hearts & Private Parts would be a decisive benefit, directly alleviating the single greatest barrier to my advancement: financial strain. As a working professional financing my own education, the cost of tuition and mandatory resources creates a significant burden. This award would provide crucial stability, allowing me to reduce my work hours slightly to dedicate more focused time to rigorous courses like advanced pathophysiology and pharmacology without the constant anxiety of accruing debt. More specifically, it would empower me to immediately invest in the kind of specialized, continuing education your organization exemplifies. The benefit extends beyond tuition. With this support, I could actively engage with the advanced learning opportunities your CME conferences provide. For instance, being able to attend a session on Cardiology/Emergency Medicine or Prescribing/Pain Management during my RN program would enrich my academic learning with cutting-edge, practical clinical pearls. It would allow me to begin building specialized knowledge in Women’s Health a field I am passionate about even before graduation, making me a more competent and confident nurse from my first day. Ultimately, this scholarship wouldn’t just help me pay for a degree; it would enable me to build a richer, more specialized foundation for my practice. It is an investment that would be repaid through the higher quality of care I will deliver to my patients and the stronger, more knowledgeable clinician I will become for my community.

The seed of my passion for nursing was planted not in a classroom, but in the quiet of my grandfather’s hospital room during the pandemic. Our family, locked out and terrified, was held together by the steady voice of his nurse, Celia. She translated complex medical terms into understanding and, in our darkest moments, offered not just updates, but profound humanity telling us she’d held his hand and played his favorite music. In that crisis, I saw nursing as it truly is: the perfect, vital fusion of science and soul. It’s a profession where clinical expertise and compassionate connection are equally vital, and that duality is what fuels my passion. I am driven by the desire to be that anchor for others, to be the calm, competent presence in someone’s storm. My goal is to become a Registered Nurse who not only provides exceptional care but also actively shapes a more compassionate and equitable healthcare environment. I want a career that offers continuous growth, much like Beverly J. Patterson’s, where I can always learn, share knowledge with colleagues, and advocate for my patients at every level. I hope to get a sense of profound purpose from knowing that my daily actions, whether large or small, directly contribute to healing, comfort, and dignity. The area of nursing I am called to pursue is Women’s Health, with a specific focus on becoming an OBGYN nurse. This choice is deeply personal. I am passionate about supporting women during some of the most vulnerable, transformative, and joyful moments of their lives from routine health screenings to pregnancy, childbirth, and beyond. I have witnessed, both in my community and through clinical experience, the disparities in maternal health outcomes, particularly for women of color. The statistics are not just numbers; they represent a critical failure in care that I am determined to help address. The impact I hope to make in this specialty is twofold. First, on an individual level, I am committed to being a nurse who practices with unwavering empathy and cultural humility. I want every patient to feel truly heard, respected, and empowered in their choices. In the delivery room, I aim to be a source of strength and reassurance, helping to create a positive and supported birth experience. Second, I want to be an advocate for systemic change within the field. I plan to use my voice to promote practices that reduce implicit bias, improve patient education, and ensure equitable care for all women, regardless of background. By combining excellent clinical skills with dedicated advocacy, I hope to contribute to lowering maternal mortality rates and improving health outcomes, one patient and one policy at a time. This scholarship, honoring Beverly J. Patterson’s legacy, would support me in this mission. It would be an investment in a future nurse who believes that the heart of nursing is found in both the accuracy of a medication dosage and the kindness in a caregiver’s eyes. I am dedicated to honoring that legacy by providing care that heals the whole person, with the courage to advocate for a better, more just system for the women and families I will serve.

My unique talent isn't found in a textbook. It's the ability to stand at the intersection of clinical need and human fear, and to build a bridge between the two. As a first generation college student and a Licensed Vocational Nurse, I have learned that the most critical tool for building an empathetic global community isn't a grand gesture, but the quiet, consistent practice of listening, truly listening to the stories of others. I will use my hands on healthcare experience and my pursuit of a nursing degree to foster this empathy, one patient, one interaction, and one shared moment of understanding at a time. In healthcare, empathy is not a soft skill; it is a clinical necessity. My "talent" is honed in the raw, intimate space of patient care: calming a anxious elderly man by learning he was a jazz trumpeter and humming a tune with him as I take his vitals, or recognizing the cultural hesitation in a mother's eyes and taking extra time to explain her child's treatment plan in a way that respects her traditions. This is where a global community begins in the microcosm of a hospital room, where people from all walks of life arrive stripped of their titles, united by vulnerability. I have seen how a moment of genuine connection seeing the person behind the patient can transform fear into trust, and isolation into partnership. I will leverage this skill in two concrete ways. First, at the direct care level, I am committed to practicing narrative medicine. This means I will always seek the story behind the symptom. When I become an RN, I will use my patient assessments not just to gather clinical data, but to understand a person's context their background, their fears, their support system. This practice cultivates deep, individual empathy and directly challenges the dehumanizing aspects of our medical system. By treating each patient as a unique story, I model for colleagues and students that understanding is the first step in healing. Second, I will use my position as a future healthcare professional and first-generation graduate to mentor and educate. I plan to volunteer with programs that introduce first generation high school students to healthcare careers, sharing not just the "how" of nursing, but the "why" the profound importance of cultural competency and compassionate communication. Furthermore, I will use my voice in nursing journals or local community boards to advocate for training that emphasizes empathy and cross cultural understanding as core clinical competencies, not optional add-ons. My goal is to help create healthcare environments that are not just technically proficient, but are bastions of empathy, setting a standard for what a compassionate community can be. An empathetic global community starts with recognizing our shared humanity in moments of need. My journey from a first-gen student to a nurse has taught me that the emergency room in Texas and a clinic anywhere in the world share a common language: the need for dignity, understanding, and care. My unique skill is to be a translator of that language. I will use my hands to heal, my ears to listen, and my voice to advocate, proving that the most powerful way to build a connected world is to honor the story of every person you meet. This scholarship will help me earn the degree that allows me to scale this impact from a single bedside to the broader systems that care for our global community.

The values that defined Sgt. Albert Dono Ware’s life service, sacrifice, and bravery are not abstract ideals to me. They are the daily currency of the hospital floor where I work, and the quiet engine of my family’s history. As an African American woman, a Licensed Vocational Nurse, and a nursing student, these principles have shaped my personal journey by framing a profound truth: the most meaningful service is often a quiet, consistent offering of oneself, the greatest sacrifice is the choice to show up for others in their vulnerability, and the truest bravery is found in advocating for dignity in systems that can sometimes strip it away. My journey into service began at the most human level, as a Certified Nursing Assistant. Service meant ensuring a patient’s comfort, sacrificing my own ease during long shifts to answer a call light, and finding the bravery to be a calm presence in moments of fear or pain. This direct, hands-on care is where I learned that service is not a transaction, but a covenant. It is the promise to see the whole person, especially when illness tries to reduce them to a diagnosis. This covenant was deeply personal. It echoed the quiet sacrifices I watched my own family make working multiple jobs, building community networks, and persevering with a resilient faith that tomorrow could be better. Theirs was a bravery not of dramatic stands, but of steadfast endurance. These lived values directly inspire my vision for addressing a critical challenge facing the African diaspora in the US: the pervasive and damaging health disparities that shorten lives and erode community well-being. We face higher rates of hypertension, diabetes, maternal mortality, and chronic stress-related illness. These are not merely biological facts; they are the symptoms of systemic failures in access to nutritious food, in environmental safety, in consistent, high-quality healthcare, and in the chronic psychological toll of racial inequity. My vision is to be part of healing this rupture at both the individual and systemic level. On the policy front, two intertwined reforms are most critical. First, we must enact and fund comprehensive school-based health centers in predominantly Black communities, starting from elementary through high school. These centers, staffed by nurse practitioners and community health workers, would provide immediate, accessible, and stigma-free physical and mental healthcare, health education, and family connection to resources. They would serve as a preventative lifeline, intercepting issues like asthma, anxiety, and nutritional deficiencies early, and fostering a lifelong relationship with wellness rather than crisis-driven sick care. Second, we must establish and subsidize community health worker (CHW) pipelines specifically within Black communities. CHWs are trusted local voices who can bridge the cavernous gap between clinical settings and home life. They can conduct home visits for new mothers, help manage chronic diseases, navigate insurance hurdles, and connect families to social services. A policy that certifies, employs, and integrates these workers into clinic and hospital teams would address the social determinants of health in a culturally competent, grassroots way. Driving this change requires a coalition of key stakeholders. Community Elders and Faith Leaders must be at the table from the outset, lending their moral authority and trust to ensure initiatives are culturally resonant. Healthcare Professionals, particularly nurses and doctors from the diaspora who understand both the clinical and cultural landscapes, must help design and implement programs. Local and State Policymakers need to allocate funding and remove bureaucratic barriers. Finally, Philanthropic and Private Sector Partners must provide sustained investment and innovation. Crucially, the most important stakeholders are the community members themselves; their lived experience must guide every step, ensuring reforms are not done to the community, but with and by it. Sgt. Ware’s legacy was one of defending his adopted homeland. My service is to help heal it, starting with the community I call my own. I carry his values from the bedside to the broader fight for health equity. My nursing degree is my tool for this mission a means to gain the clinical expertise and leadership platform to advocate for these reforms from within the healthcare system. I believe that by bravely serving one patient at a time while sacrificially working to change the system for all, we honor sacrifices like Sgt. Ware’s by building a healthier, more just, and more vibrant future for the African diaspora.

What gave me the courage to go back to school? It wasn’t one dramatic moment, but a quiet, persistent truth that grew louder than my doubt: the memory of my grandfather’s hand in mine, and the steady voice of his nurse on the phone. For over a decade, I’ve built a life and a career in healthcare, starting as a CNA and becoming an LVN. It’s work I’m proud of, but it has also shown me the limits of my ability to advocate. I’ve held the hands of patients who felt unheard and comforted families lost in a maze of medical jargon. I learned to provide excellent clinical care, but I always hit a professional ceiling when I wanted to change a care plan, to question a protocol, or to be the one guiding the family meeting instead of just supporting it. The courage to return to school was born from that friction from the growing conviction that my experience had value, but I needed more tools to make it fully count. The real catalyst, however, was witnessing transformative care as a family member. When my grandfather was hospitalized and isolated during the pandemic, our entire world narrowed to daily phone calls. His nurse, Celia, became our lifeline. She possessed a powerful blend of deep clinical knowledge and profound humanity. She could explain a complex lung condition and then tell us she’d played his favorite music for him. In her, I saw the nurse I wanted to become; unshakeably competent and deeply compassionate, a true clinical leader and a patient’s fiercest advocate. She didn’t just work within the system; she used her expertise to humanize it. In that painful time, she gave me a crystal-clear vision of my future. Going back to school at thirty-six, as a working professional, requires a different kind of grit. The courage comes from my patients, the ones who trusted me with their stories. It comes from my family, who needs me to be present even as my textbooks cover the kitchen table. But mostly, it comes from a promise I made to myself after my grandfather came home: to never again be in a position where I see a better way to care for someone but lack the authority or education to make it happen. Pursuing my RN, and eventually a Bachelor’s in Nursing, is my path to that authority. It is the way I turn my hard-earned experience into greater impact. This isn’t a detour; it’s an acceleration. Susie Green’s story resonates deeply because it’s about a woman using education to rewrite her narrative and expand her service on her own terms. That is my mission. My courage is fueled by the knowledge that with this degree, I won’t just follow protocols, I’ll help improve them. I won’t just comfort families, I’ll empower them with knowledge. I will use my seat at the table to ensure care is not just technically correct, but holistically right. This scholarship would honor Susie’s legacy by investing in a woman who, like her, is returning to education not for a title, but for the tools to build a more compassionate world. My courage is my commitment to that build, one patient, one lesson, one brave step at a time.

Ever since I started as a CNA, I learned that my community isn’t just a place on a map. It’s the shared space inside a hospital room, or at the bedside in a nursing home here in Texas. That’s where I’ve learned how to make an impact, not by moving mountains, but by making a different choice in a tough environment. In healthcare, especially when we’re short-staffed and everyone is stretched thin, it’s easy to get worn down or hardened by the pressure. But I made a decision a long time ago to try and change the water around me, not let it change me. For me, being a coffee bean has meant showing up for people when they feel invisible. It’s in the small things holding the hand of an anxious patient before a procedure, not just because it’s comforting, but because it’s a silent way of saying, "I see you, and you matter." It’s taking the time to explain a confusing doctor’s order to a family in plain words, so their fear of the unknown turns into understanding. It’s speaking up during a care plan meeting to suggest we try music therapy for a resident with dementia, because I noticed how his agitation eased when we played old soul records. These actions might seem small on a chart, but the change they create is real. They restore a sense of dignity and calm in places that can feel cold and scary. I’ve watched a family’s shoulders relax when they realize someone is truly in their corner. I’ve seen a colleague pause and take a breath, reminded of why we do this work. That’s the change you can brew, one patient, one shift at a time. Now, as I work toward becoming a Registered Nurse, I see my degree as my next step in being a more effective agent of change. With the deeper knowledge and greater responsibility of an RN, I won’t just be able to offer comfort; I’ll be able to formally advocate, to help design the care that heals the whole person, not just treats the illness. I want to focus on community health and geriatric care right here in Texas, where I’ve seen gaps in access and understanding. My goal is to use my voice and my skills to help bridge those gaps. In the long run, I don’t just want to be a nurse at the bedside. I want to help shape the environment for other caregivers. I hope to mentor new CNAs and nursing students, to pass on that coffee bean mindset that the culture of a unit, and the quality of care, starts with the choices each of us makes every single day. This scholarship would support me in that mission. It would be an investment not just in my education, but in the kind of compassionate, person centered healthcare I am determined to help build for my community, one patient, one family, one shift at a time.

My name is Kimberly Christian, I would like to share with you a real moment I struggled to use my voice didn’t happen in a loud room, but in the quiet hum of the skilled nursing facility where I work as an LVN. It was during a routine medication pass for Mr. Henderson, a long-term resident with advanced dementia. His new prescription was a powerful antipsychotic, ordered to manage his afternoon agitation. As I scanned the mar, a cold knot formed in my stomach. His “agitation” wasn’t random; it was a daily, heart-wrenching call for his late wife, a profound grief etched in confusion. The drug would likely quiet him, but it felt like we were medicating his grief into silence. I stood at the med cart, pill cup in one hand, the other hovering over the scanner. My mind raced. Who are you to question the doctor? You’re just an LVN. Follow the order. Don’t make waves. The pressure to keep moving, to be efficient, was a tangible weight. Speaking up felt inherently confrontational, a breach of protocol. I felt small, presumptuous, and acutely aware of my place in the hierarchy. In that moment, fear of being seen as difficult or incompetent stole my voice. I gave him the medication. He grew quiet, and the hall was peaceful, but the silence felt like a failure mine and the system’s. The rest of my shift was haunted by his subdued blankness. I had prioritized task completion over advocacy, efficiency over holistic care. I learned a brutal lesson that day: communication is not just about speaking; it’s about having the courage to frame a concern as a collaboration, not a challenge. True confidence isn’t the absence of fear, but the conviction that your unique perspective at the bedside has value. I vowed never to let that happen again. I started small. The next week, with another resident, I carefully approached the charge RN. Instead of saying, “This med is wrong,” I framed it with observation and a question: “I’ve noticed Mrs. Allen becomes more confused after her diuretic; she’s having more falls. Could we discuss the timing of her dose with the team?” This wasn’t rebellion; it was contributing to the care plan. It worked. The adjustment was made, and Mrs. Allen’s safety improved. That early failure reshaped my entire understanding of my voice. I learned it is my most critical nursing tool. Now, as I pursue my RN, I see that moment as my essential training. My future impact hinges on using that voice deliberately. I will use it to advocate for patients like Mr. Henderson, ensuring care plans address the root of distress, not just the symptom. I will use it to bridge communication gaps between patients, families, and the healthcare team, translating medical jargon into clarity and fear into partnership. I hope to eventually use it as a preceptor, empowering new nurses to find their own voices from the start, to know that their observations are the early-warning system of patient care. The silence at that med cart taught me that the cost of an unused voice is paid by the most vulnerable. My voice is no longer something I hesitate to use; it is the instrument through which I will fulfill my deepest duty: to see the person behind the patient and to ensure they are not just treated, but heard.

Hello! I’m Kimberly Christian, a first-year nursing student and a Licensed Vocational Nurse. My world is a balance of college lecture halls and the familiar halls of the rehabilitation center where I work. This dual perspective—the theory of the classroom and the reality of the bedside—fuels my drive. My career goal is clear: to become a Registered Nurse and make a tangible, positive impact by bridging the gap between high-quality clinical care and the profound human need for connection, especially for those who feel invisible or forgotten. My plan to create impact is rooted in a very personal experience. During the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, my grandfather was hospitalized and isolated. Our family’s lifeline was his nurse, Celia. In our moments of deepest fear, she did more than manage his ventilator; she became our translator, advocate, and a source of steadfast compassion. She reported not just his oxygen levels, but that she held his hand and played his favorite music. In that crisis, I learned that healing is not just a clinical process—it’s a human one. True care happens when expert skill meets unwavering empathy. This lesson directly shapes how I intend to contribute. I plan to focus my RN career on geriatric or long-term care, populations often marginalized in our healthcare system. Having worked as an LVN, I’ve seen how easy it is for the routine of care to become transactional. I want to disrupt that. My positive impact will be measured not just in medication accuracy or wound healing, but in dignity restored. I plan to be the nurse who ensures my patients are seen as whole people—with histories, preferences, and fears—not just as a list of diagnoses. Concretely, this means practicing intentional, relational nursing. It means taking the time to learn that Mr. Jones was a veteran who loves jazz, so I can make sure it’s playing during his bath. It means sitting down with a frustrated family and explaining a care plan in terms they understand, easing their helplessness. On a broader scale, I aspire to eventually become a nurse educator or unit preceptor, instilling this patient-centered philosophy in future nursing students and new graduates. I want to champion a culture where technical excellence and compassionate connection are equally valued. I am building this foundation now. My LVN experience grounds me in the practical realities of patient care, while my RN studies are expanding my clinical knowledge and critical thinking. This combination is preparing me to be not just a competent nurse, but a transformative one. Ultimately, I believe a positive impact is built one interaction at a time. I plan to dedicate my career to ensuring that no patient feels like just a room number, and no family feels as lost and helpless as mine once did. By fiercely protecting the humanity within healthcare, I aim to leave my community healthier, more compassionate, and more connected, one patient, one family, at a time.

I'm Kimberly Christian, and right now, I'm living a double life. By day, I'm a first-year college student navigating campus and chemistry labs. By night and on weekends, I'm an LVN at a rehab facility. And the bridge between those two worlds the reason I'm burning the candle at both ends is my grandfather, a nurse named Monica, and the pandemic that showed me exactly what this job means. The biggest challenge for me wasn't just one thing. It was the whole suffocating feeling of 2021. My grandpa, my biggest cheerleader, got COVID and ended up in the hospital. Just like that, our close knit family was locked out of his life. All we had were phone calls that felt more like receiving battlefield reports. We’d huddle around the speakerphone in my grandma’s living room, trying to decode what the doctors weren't saying, imagining the worst. The idea that he might die alone in that room, with us only able to watch on a tablet screen, was a kind of fear I didn't know existed. Then, we got a call from Monica, his nurse. Her voice was different tired, you could hear it, but steady. She didn't just say his stats. She said, "His oxygen is lower today, so we’ve increased his support. I just finished adjusting his mask, and I held his hand while I did it. He squeezed back." In another call, she mentioned she’d found a big-band station on her phone and played it for him because my grandma told her he loved Glenn Miller. That was everything. She was our eyes, our hands, and our heart in that room. She was doing the medicine, but she was also doing this crucial, human work that was just as important. Getting through that time was messy. Grandpa did come home, thank God, but he’s on oxygen now and gets tired easily. We’re all a little different, a little more aware of how fragile things are. For me, "overcoming" it meant I couldn't just go back to normal. I’d already been working as an LVN, but now I saw the layers to the job I hadn't fully understood. I started reading not just my textbooks, but articles about what nurses were really going through during the surges the layers of PPE that felt like a sauna suit for 12 hours, the impossible choices, the sheer emotional weight of being the only person holding a dying patient's hand. I realized Celia wasn't a superhero. She was a representation of what nursing, at its core, requires: a toughness that isn't hard, but deeply caring. So, that's why I'm here, a freshman with dark circles sometimes, juggling classes and clinicals. My goal to become an RN isn't just a next step on a career ladder. It’s a promise I made to myself watching Celia. I’ve seen the job from the inside I know about the paperwork, the sore feet, the difficult patients. But I also know, in a way I wish I didn't, what it means to a family on the other end of the phone when a nurse takes that extra minute. I’m not pursuing this with some vague, glowing idea of “helping.” I’m pursuing it with a clear-eyed understanding that to be a great nurse, you have to master the science on my chemistry flashcards and the human connection that can’t be taught in any lab. I want to be the kind of nurse who knows how to titrate a vasopressor drip and also knows when to sit quietly with a scared family, because I’ve been that family. That’s the nurse I’m working to become.

My experience with anxiety and depression didn’t start with a breakdown, but with a slow leak. In high school, the constant hum of worry and the heavy fog of low moods made getting through a normal day feel like a marathon. I was trying to run it with weights on my ankles. For a long time, I saw this struggle as a private failing, a weakness to be hidden. I’ve come to realize it was actually my most critical education. It reshaped everything how I see the world, how I connect with people, and, most clearly, my purpose to become a Registered Nurse. It changed my beliefs first. I used to buy into the “just push through” mantra. My mental health taught me that’s not only unhelpful, it’s untrue. You can’t power-walk your way out of a storm that’s inside you. I learned that true strength looks like asking for help. It looks like treating yourself with the same kindness you’d offer a struggling friend. I now believe health is holistic; a racing mind or a heavy heart is just as real and urgent as a broken bone. This isn’t a softer worldview it’s a more accurate and compassionate one. This shift bled directly into my relationships. When you’ve felt invisible in your own pain, you get better at seeing it in others. I learned to listen differently not just for words, but for what’s held in a sigh, a hesitation, or a forced smile. It turned my friendships into deeper bonds because I wasn’t afraid of hard conversations. With my family, I had to learn to articulate my needs, which was awkward but ultimately brought us closer. My struggle taught me that real connection is built on vulnerability, not perfection. It made me a better daughter, friend, and, I believe, a future caregiver. Because that’s where this all leads: to a white coat and a stethoscope, but more importantly, to a patient’s bedside. My direct career aspiration is to earn my BSN and become an RN. This isn’t a vague interest; it’s a conviction forged in my own experience. I know what it’s like to feel scared and alone in a clinical setting, to feel like a set of symptoms rather than a whole person. I am pursuing nursing because I want to be the kind of nurse who sees both. The one who can check a blood pressure while recognizing the anxiety in a patient’s eyes. The one who understands that healing isn’t just about medicine, but about dignity, reassurance, and human connection. My goal is to work in emergency medicine or oncology nursing fields where crisis and long-term healing intersect, and where compassionate, clear-headed care is everything. I want to be the calm in someone else’s storm, using my clinical skills to treat the body and the empathy born from my own journey to comfort the mind and spirit. This scholarship would be an investment in that nurse. It would help fund the education that will transform my lived experience into professional competency. My mental health journey didn’t derail my dreams; it gave them direction and a heartbeat. It taught me that the deepest wounds often create the greatest capacity for healing in ourselves and for others. I am not just studying to be a nurse; I am becoming one because of this, and I will carry these lessons with me to every patient, every room, every single day.

Going to college, for me, is about building a bridge. It is the deliberate, structured pathway that connects the nurse I am today, an LVN with a decade of hands-on experience—to the nurse leader I am called to become. It represents more than a credential; it is the acquisition of the deeper knowledge and authority required to transform patient care from a series of tasks into a practice of profound, holistic empowerment. My journey to this point has been anything but linear. As a first-generation student and a single mother, my initial foray into higher education to become an LVN was an act of sheer determination. It was about survival and stability, financed by overtime shifts and fueled by late night study sessions after my daughter was asleep. That degree was my foundation, and for ten years, it has allowed me to serve and connect with patients on the front lines of care. But I have always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of my scope of practice, and the desire to understand the complex "why" behind the diseases I treat has only grown stronger. This desire became a mission after a personal medical crisis. Following the birth of my daughter, a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized. In a terrifying reversal, I became the vulnerable patient, lying in an ICU bed, attached to a wound vac. In that moment of profound fear and powerlessness, I experienced the healthcare system from the other side. I was a nurse, yet I struggled to advocate for myself. This experience revealed a critical gap: the chasm between clinical information and a patient's ability to feel truly seen, heard, and empowered in their care. This is what I am trying to accomplish by going to college. I am not simply seeking a new title; I am seeking the tools to close that gap. My goal is to earn my RN degree to gain a sophisticated understanding of pathophysiology and complex care planning. This knowledge is the necessary foundation to then specialize in women’s health, where I can be a guardian and an advocate for patients during their most vulnerable moments. Ultimately, I am trying to accomplish a shift in the paradigm of care I can provide. I want to be the nurse who ensures that no patient feels as invisible as I once did. I want to develop educational resources that empower new parents, mentor aspiring CNAs and LVNs with compassion, and lead a healthcare team that never loses sight of the person behind the chart. College is the essential vessel for this mission. It is the place where my lived experience and hard-won resilience will be fused with advanced clinical expertise. This scholarship is the critical support that would allow me to cross this bridge, enabling me to focus more on my studies and less on financial strain, so I can fully become the knowledgeable, empathetic, and empowered nurse my future patients deserve.

My identity is a tapestry woven from threads of resilience, service, and a profound belief in the power of human connection. I am a first-generation college student, a single mother, and a Licensed Vocational Nurse who has stood on both sides of the hospital bedrail. These roles have not defined my limits; they have defined my mission. I plan to make a positive impact on the world by becoming a Registered Nurse who transforms patient care from a transaction into an act of empowerment, ensuring that every individual feels seen, heard, and championed in their most vulnerable moments. My commitment to service was seeded in my childhood. Watching my single mother work two jobs to provide for her four daughters taught me that true strength is a quiet, persistent force. As the third oldest, I learned the meaning of an unselfish work ethic, not as a burden, but as the bedrock of family and community. This foundation became my own when I became a mother. Determined to build a stable future, I worked full-time while studying to become an LVN, a grueling but purposeful journey that cemented my calling to healthcare. That calling was tested and refined in a fire I never expected. After the birth of my daughter, a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized. In an instant, I was no longer the caregiver, but the patient—terrified, vulnerable, and lying helplessly with a wound vac machine as a constant companion. This experience was a brutal but invaluable lesson. It revealed a critical gap in our healthcare system: the chasm between clinical information and a patient's ability to feel empowered and heard. As a nurse, I had the knowledge, but as a patient, I felt my voice was small. This is the gap I am called to bridge. My plan is to become an RN specializing in women’s health, where I will be a guardian for those who feel invisible. My impact will be to ensure that no new mother has to navigate the fear and isolation I once faced. I will leverage my personal understanding of adversity to advocate for my patients, creating educational resources that are not just informative, but truly accessible and empowering. Furthermore, I plan to pay forward the mentorship I received by guiding future CNAs and LVNs, showing them that leadership in nursing means combining clinical excellence with unwavering compassion. This scholarship is an investment in that impact. It would provide crucial support, allowing me to dedicate myself fully to my RN studies and bring this vision to life. I am not just pursuing a degree; I am answering a call to inject deeper empathy, stronger advocacy, and more compassionate leadership into the world, one patient at a time. My journey has equipped me with the resilience and clarity to do this vital work, and I am ready to begin.

My educational journey has been less a straight path and more a mountain I was determined to climb, carrying the weight of responsibility on my back from a young age. The adversities I have overcome are not just obstacles I left behind; they are the very foundation of my character and the source of my unwavering commitment to becoming a Registered Nurse. My first and most formative teacher was my mother, a single parent who worked two jobs to provide for her four daughters. As the third oldest, I learned quickly that resilience wasn't an option, but a necessity. Our home ran on a quiet understanding of sacrifice and a collective work ethic. We were a team. This early training in perseverance became my own blueprint when I became a single mother myself. Pursuing my Licensed Vocational Nurse (LVN) credential meant studying after my daughter fell asleep, financing my dreams with overtime shifts, and clinging to a determined focus that failure was not an option. I was building a bridge to a better future with no blueprint, guided only by the example of my mother's strength. Just as I established my career, a profound personal crisis tested my resilience in a way I never imagined. After the birth of my daughter, a severe postpartum infection led to sepsis, and I found myself in the ICU. In a terrifying reversal, I transitioned from being an LVN caregiver to a vulnerable patient. Lying there, dependent on a wound vac and unable to care for my newborn, I felt broken. It was a devastating blow, threatening the very core of my identity as a protector and a nurse. Yet, that experience became my crucible. It forced me to synthesize my personal grit with a profound professional purpose. I understood, from the most intimate perspective, the fear and powerlessness a patient can feel. I realized that healthcare requires more than clinical skill; it demands empathetic advocates who empower patients. This clarity ignited a new, more powerful determination. My adversity was no longer a barrier, but a catalyst. Now, as I pursue my RN degree, I carry these lessons with me. The adversity of my childhood taught me resilience. The challenge of being a single mother taught me fierce determination. And the trial of my medical crisis gifted me with an essential empathy. This scholarship is more than financial aid; it is a vital support system that would allow me to reduce my work hours and dedicate the focused time my studies and my daughter deserve. You would be investing in a nurse who doesn't just treat a chart, but who sees the whole person—because I have been that person. My journey has forged in me a resilience and purpose that I am ready to channel into a lifetime of compassionate, expert care.

Leadership, to me, is not about a title or authority. It is about building a scaffold of support that allows others to rise. It is the combination of clear communication, unwavering resilience, and an unselfish commitment to a common good, all driven by a focused work ethic. This understanding was not born in a boardroom, but forged in the fires of my own life, and it is the foundation upon which I am building my future as a Registered Nurse. My resilience and strong work ethic were shaped in a household led by my single mother, who worked two jobs to provide for her four daughters. As the third oldest, I learned early that our family thrived through collective effort. This required unselfish dedication; my goals were always balanced with the needs of my sisters. I carried this ethos into my own journey as a single mother, working full-time while studying nights to become an LVN. Every textbook purchased was a sacrifice, and every late-night study session after my daughter’s bedtime was a testament to a focused determination to build a better life for us both. These traits are not just history; they are my daily routine. As an LVN of ten years, my strong work ethic is demonstrated through meticulous patient care and a commitment to going the extra mile. My resilience is tested and proven daily, whether navigating the emotional toll of the COVID-19 pandemic, where I held my personal iPad for final family goodbyes or balancing the demands of motherhood, work, and now, further education. This resilience is rooted in an unselfish perspective; I show up because my patients and my daughter are counting on me. My communication skills and leadership philosophy are intertwined. I believe leadership is service. On the floor, this means actively listening to patients to understand not just their symptoms, but their fears. It means clearly communicating with CNAs and colleagues to create a supportive team environment, much like I did with my sisters growing up. My goal is to be the charge nurse who, like my mentor Tammy, can direct a crisis with competence while never forgetting the human being at the center of it. I am now pursuing my RN degree because I have reached the limit of my LVN scope of practice. My focused determination is now fixed on understanding the complex 'why' behind the care I deliver. A personal experience with a postpartum medical crisis taught me the critical need for nurses who can not only perform clinical tasks but also empower vulnerable patients. My future goal is to become an RN in women’s health, and eventually, a nurse leader who mentors the next generation. I will lead by example, showing that true strength lies in compassion, that communication builds trust, and that an unselfish work ethic elevates an entire team. This scholarship is an investment in that leader. It would provide crucial support, allowing me to reduce my work hours and dedicate more focused time to my studies and my daughter. I am not just pursuing a degree; I am building a legacy of resilient, compassionate care, and I am determined to see it through.

The most profound lessons in resilience, sacrifice, and unwavering love were not taught to me in a classroom, but in the quiet, determined footsteps of my mother. Growing up as the third oldest of four girls in a single-parent household, my childhood was shaped by the rhythm of her two jobs: one while we were at school, and another overnight. We learned to be a team, with my older sisters and I sharing responsibilities far beyond our years—cooking simple meals, helping with homework, and offering a shoulder to lean on. This wasn't a story of hardship; it was our normal, a masterclass in silent perseverance. My mother was our entire world, and her exhaustion was a testament to her love. She taught us that you do what is necessary for your family, a lesson that became the bedrock of my character. That foundation of resilience became my own when I became a single mother. I understood the weight of building a future from scratch, and it fueled my determination to become a Licensed Vocational Nurse. Juggling textbooks with bedtime stories and financing my education with overtime shifts, I mirrored the same grit I had witnessed my entire life. My mother’s example was my blueprint: when you face a challenge, you meet it head-on. This inherited strength was tested in a way I never anticipated. After the birth of my daughter, a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized. In an instant, I transitioned from caregiver to patient. Lying in that ICU bed, listening to the gurgle of a wound vac, I felt a profound vulnerability. I was a nurse, yet I struggled to advocate for myself, blinded by pain and the all-consuming focus on my newborn. This experience was a brutal but transformative lesson. It revealed a critical gap in healthcare—the chasm between clinical information and a patient's ability to self-advocate, especially when they are overwhelmed and afraid. That moment fused my mother's legacy of strength with a crystal-clear professional mission. I am no longer just pursuing a career; I am answering a call. My goal is to become a Registered Nurse to bridge that very gap. I am driven to work in women's health, to be the calm, empowering presence for patients who feel as vulnerable and unheard as I once did. I want to be the nurse who ensures that a new mother, regardless of her background, feels seen, heard, and equipped to be a partner in her own care. This scholarship represents more than financial aid; it is an investment in a legacy. It would allow me to reduce the exhausting overtime hours that drain my time and energy, granting me more precious moments for both my studies and my daughter. You would be supporting the daughter of a single mother who never gave up, who is now determined to become a nurse who never gives up on her patients. My journey, shaped by my mother's sacrifice and refined by my own trials, has equipped me with a unique empathy and a fierce determination. I am ready to honor her struggle by dedicating my career to ensuring that every patient feels the strength of unwavering support on their own path to healing.

Everyone loves "Defying Gravity," but the heart of Wicked for me has always been the story behind the story. It’s about the person labeled "wicked" just for being different, for speaking up, for not fitting in. That idea hits deep. You see, as a first-generation student and a single mom, I know a little something about defying labels. My path to becoming an LVN wasn't straight. It was a grind of late-night study sessions after my daughter was asleep, fueled by a determination people like me aren't always expected to have. I had to be my own cheerleader, much like Elphaba. But the real lesson of Wicked is empathy. The whole show is about looking past the surface to understand someone's truth. This is everything in nursing. A patient isn't "the infection in Room 4"; they're a person, scared and in pain. I learned this firsthand after a severe postpartum infection landed me in the ICU. Lying there, I wasn't just a nurse anymore; I was the vulnerable one, praying to be seen as more than my diagnosis. That’s the nurse I’m determined to be—one who always looks for the whole story. This scholarship would be the helping hand that lets me focus less on overtime shifts and more on mastering the skills to provide that kind of care. I want to be the reason a patient feels understood, the calm presence in their chaos. In the end, Wicked teaches us that people are rarely just "good" or "wicked." They're complex, and they deserve to be seen. My mission is to bring that same clarity and compassion to the bedside.

I’d create a Love Island challenge called "Empathy ER." Forget volleyball or pie-eating contests; this one would test what really matters for a long-term connection—and what’s absolutely essential for any great nurse: the ability to listen, comfort, and truly understand someone when they're feeling vulnerable. The challenge has two rounds that turn part of the villa into a pop-up clinic for the heart. Round 1: The Triage Tent Each couple enters a private tent where one partner becomes the "Caregiver" and the other the "Patient." The Patient draws a card describing an emotional ailment, like "crushed after being left out of a game" or "stressed about a missing family text." Here's the catch: the Caregiver can’t just say "you'll be fine." They have five minutes to actually show they care. They can use a cozy blanket, make a cup of tea, or just listen—but they have to figure out what their partner needs without being told. This is where you see who can actually sit with someone in their discomfort, which is what real bedside manner is all about. Round 2: The Diagnosis Debrief This is the real test. The couples are split up, and the narrator interviews them separately. He asks the Patients, "What one thing your partner did made you feel truly heard?" Then, he asks the Caregivers, "What did you think was the most comforting thing you did, and why?" The winning couple isn't the one who did the most, but the one whose answers match up perfectly—proving they were truly on the same wavelength. As someone who's been on both sides of the bedrail—both as an LVN caregiver and as a terrified patient after a postpartum infection—I know that this "Diagnosis Debrief" is the hardest part. Truly understanding what another person needs isn't just a game; it's the very heart of nursing. This scholarship would directly support my goal of becoming an RN who masters this skill. By easing the financial pressure, it would allow me to focus more on my studies and less on overtime shifts. This means I can dedicate the time needed to not only learn the science of nursing but to also deeply cultivate the art of human connection, ensuring I graduate ready to heal with both knowledge and heart.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU. As a CNA and telemetry tech in 2010, I was in awe of nurses like charge nurse Tammy, who could direct a chaotic code while simultaneously holding a patient’s hand. She showed me that healthcare is the powerful fusion of sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. This revelation is the core of why I have chosen to pursue a degree in healthcare. It is a profession that demands we treat the disease while honoring the person. In 2013, I became an LVN to act on this calling. For ten years, I’ve loved my work, but I have reached the limit of my license. My desire to understand the complex ‘why’ behind the care I deliver compels me to advance. This need was personally driven home by a severe postpartum medical crisis where a systemic infection led to sepsis. In an instant, I transitioned from caregiver to patient. That experience gifted me with an intimate understanding of vulnerability and a fierce determination to provide care that is as empathetic as it is expert. As a woman in the healthcare field, I hope to make a positive impact by embodying this principle of whole-person care and by lifting others as I climb. I witnessed the critical need for this human touch during the COVID-19 pandemic. I spent countless hours using my personal iPad to connect isolated patients with their families for final goodbyes. It was a devastating period, but it solidified my role as both a rock for my patients and a soft place for my own family. This dedication was recognized when I was nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023—a moment that affirmed that compassion matters. My goal is to become an RN to develop complex care plans and make critical decisions. But my greater mission is to become a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me: a guide who demonstrates that true healing happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. I will leverage my experience as a woman, a mother, and a former patient to advocate for both my colleagues and those in our care, ensuring our profession never loses its essential human heart. This scholarship would be a game-changer, allowing me to cut back on overtime shifts and dedicate more time to my studies. You would be investing in a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to elevate this profession. Thank you for considering my story

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My identity is not a single thread, but a tapestry woven from experiences that have historically been underrepresented at the nursing leadership table: I am a first-generation college student, a single mother, and a woman who has navigated the healthcare system from both sides of the bedrail. This identity has not been a barrier on my path to nursing; it has been the very source of my resilience, empathy, and my determined vision to make healthcare more equitable and understanding. Growing up without a family blueprint for higher education meant my journey into healthcare was built from scratch. As a first-generation student, I had to become an expert in navigating unfamiliar systems, advocating for myself, and finding resources where none were readily offered. This struggle was compounded when I became a single mother, where every textbook purchase and late-night study session was a calculated sacrifice for our future. These experiences didn't weaken my resolve; they forged a profound understanding of the systemic hurdles and silent anxieties that many patients, especially from marginalized communities, bring with them into the hospital room. I know what it feels like to be overlooked and to have your voice feel small. This perspective became critically personal after the birth of my daughter, when a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized. As an LVN, I had the medical knowledge to understand what was happening, but as a patient, I felt invisible and powerless. Lying in that ICU bed, I was confronted with the stark reality that the system I worked in could feel alienating to someone like me—a new mom without a traditional support system, struggling to be heard. This was a pivotal moment. My identity as a patient from an underrepresented background collided with my professional self, revealing a critical gap in patient advocacy and culturally competent communication. It is from this intersection of my identities that my purpose now flows. My path is not just about obtaining an RN degree; it is about leveraging my lived experience to become a bridge for others. I have felt the disconnect between clinical care and a patient's reality, and I am driven to close it. I am committed to working in women's health, particularly serving communities where distrust in the medical system may exist. I will use my personal understanding of financial strain, single parenthood, and the challenge of self-advocacy to connect with patients on a deeper level, ensuring they feel seen, heard, and empowered in their care. My identity is my greatest asset. It is the reason I noticed the loneliness of patients during COVID-19 and used my own iPad to connect them with their families. It is the foundation of my desire to mentor other first-generation students and single parents who aspire to careers in healthcare, showing them that their backgrounds are not liabilities but sources of unique strength. This scholarship is an investment in a more diverse and compassionate healthcare landscape. Supporting my education means placing a caregiver at the bedside who doesn't just treat the condition, but who truly understands the person—because I have lived in the spaces they come from. I am not just pursuing a career; I am answering a call to ensure that the path to healing is accessible to everyone, regardless of their starting point.

The values of resilience, service, and profound empathy have shaped my journey from a first-generation college student and single mother to a dedicated LVN for the past ten years. My passion for human health was ignited at the bedside, watching mentors provide care that blended clinical skill with deep human connection. This passion became personal when a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized. In an instant, I transitioned from caregiver to vulnerable patient, confronting the fear and isolation that patients can feel. That experience, coupled with serving on the frontline during COVID-19, cemented my commitment. I learned that health is more than the absence of disease; it is about dignity, empowerment, and being seen as a whole person. These experiences drive me to become a Registered Nurse. I am not just passionate about treating illness; I am dedicated to ensuring every patient feels heard and empowered in their care, especially those from underrepresented communities. My journey has taught me that true wellness requires both clinical excellence and unwavering compassion. To me, empathy is the bridge between clinical data and the human experience. It is not merely understanding a patient’s diagnosis, but actively seeking to understand the fear in their eyes, the frustration in their voice, and the weight of their personal circumstances. It is the practice of sitting with a person in their vulnerability without judgment, ensuring they feel like a partner in their care, not just a subject of it. In nursing, this quality is not a soft skill—it is a critical component of effective care. My own medical crisis after childbirth taught me this firsthand. Lying in an ICU bed with a wound vac, I was more than a case of sepsis; I was a new mother terrified I wouldn’t be able to care for my daughter. The nurses who saw me—not just my infection—made all the difference. They bridged the gap between my clinical reality and my human terror. This is especially vital in women’s health, where patients need to feel believed and supported, not just processed. Empathy builds the trust that allows for honest communication, which in turn leads to better outcomes and safer patients. To ensure my work is consistently human-centered, I will employ a few key practices. First, I will practice intentional listening. This means sitting down, making eye contact, and listening to a patient’s story without interrupting, just as I did when I used my personal iPad to connect isolated COVID-19 patients with their families. It’s in those unstructured moments that the most crucial information and fears are often revealed. Second, I will empower patients through education. My experience as a first-generation student taught me the power of demystifying complex systems. I will translate medical jargon into clear, actionable steps, ensuring patients and their families understand their care plan and feel equipped to participate in their own wellness. This transforms them from passive recipients into active advocates. Finally, I will champion cultural humility. Recognizing that my patients’ backgrounds and beliefs profoundly shape their health journey, I will ask questions and create a space where their values are respected. This commitment to seeing the whole person—their identity, their family, their fears, and their strengths—is the core of human-centered care. It is the practice of ensuring that the dignity of the person in the bed is always the priority, guiding every clinical decision and every human interaction.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

Being a first-generation college student has not just influenced my career goals; it has fundamentally defined their purpose and their urgency. Without a family blueprint for navigating higher education, I learned to build my own path, developing a resilience and a unique perspective that I now bring to my ultimate goal: to become a Registered Nurse who doesn't just treat patients, but truly empowers them. My journey to becoming an LVN was a testament to this. There was no one at home to explain course loads or financial aid forms. As a single mother, I balanced textbooks with bedtime stories, financing my dreams with overtime shifts. This struggle taught me to be a fierce advocate for myself—a skill that became profoundly personal when I faced a life-threatening postpartum infection. Lying in that hospital bed, I felt the vulnerability of navigating a complex system. Despite my medical knowledge, I understood the fear and confusion that any patient, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds, can feel. That experience fused with my first-generation resilience to create a clear mission: I must advance to become an RN to bridge the gap between clinical care and patient empowerment. This is where my first-generation experience directly shapes my career objectives. Because I had to learn self-advocacy from scratch, I am driven to ensure my patients never have to. I am not pursuing a bachelor's degree simply for a higher title. I am pursuing it to gain the advanced knowledge needed to develop patient education programs that are accessible and actionable. I want to create resources that demystify healthcare for new parents, single mothers, and first-generation families like my own, giving them the tools to confidently manage their well-being. My goal is to return to the hospital setting not just as a clinician, but as a translator and a guide. I will use my voice—a voice tempered by overcoming systemic barriers—to ensure my patients feel seen, heard, and equipped to be partners in their own care. My first-generation journey has taught me that the greatest gift you can give someone is the ability to navigate their own path. As a future RN, that is the exact gift I intend to give every patient I serve. This scholarship is an investment in that mission, helping to build a more empathetic and equitable healthcare system from the ground up.

My vision for my future as a nurse is not just to perform a role, but to embody a principle I learned early in my career: true healing happens at the intersection of sharp clinical skill and profound human connection. I see myself as a bridge connecting clinical knowledge to compassionate action, and empowering patients and new nurses alike to navigate the healthcare system with confidence and dignity. This vision was first inspired at the bedside, watching charge nurse Tammy hold a patient's hand, keeping calm during a chaotic code and still being available to lead the unit effectively. It was solidified during my own medical crisis after the birth of my daughter, when a severe postpartum infection landed me in the ICU. In an instant, I transitioned from an LVN caregiver to a vulnerable patient, lying alone with the gurgling sound of a wound vac. That experience taught me a brutal but invaluable lesson: we can give patients all the information, but without the context for self-advocacy; especially during life's most overwhelming moments; that knowledge is powerless. As a future Registered Nurse, my primary mission is to close this gap. I will specialize in women’s health, developing clear, actionable educational tools that transform new parents from passive recipients of care into active, confident partners in their well-being. Furthermore, I envision myself as a mentor who pays forward the guidance I received. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me—a calm, competent leader who shows that tasks and compassion are not separate items on a checklist, but two sides of the same coin. My nomination for Nurse of the Year during the COVID-19 pandemic, a time I spent holding my personal iPad for final family goodbyes, affirmed that this depth of care matters. It proved that resilience means being a rock for your patients while remaining a soft place for your family. This is the balanced strength I hope to model for the next generation. Finally, my vision is rooted in wholeness. The same hands that will start IVs and assess patients also find peace in the soil of my garden, nurturing life quietly and patiently. This passion reminds me that growth cannot be rushed, whether for a seedling or a human spirit. It is this balance that will allow me to sustain a long and meaningful career, ensuring I never lose the essential human heart at the core of our profession. My goal is to be more than an RN; it is to be an anchor, an educator, and a mentor. This scholarship is an investment in that vision, supporting a proven nurse, a resilient mother, and a dedicated student who is ready to give everything to a profession that is both a science and an art.

My first understanding of dementia did not come from a textbook during my nursing training; it came from watching a vibrant community elder slowly recede into a quiet world of her own. The impact was not a single, dramatic event, but a slow, aching fade—a series of small losses that collectively reshaped our community. Through this experience, and others in my nursing career, I learned that while dementia may steal memory, it cannot erase the human spirit, and that our role as caregivers is to learn a new, profound language of presence. The disease manifested as a quiet erosion. Ms. Clara, a pillar of our church who once organized food drives and knew every child’s name, began to forget recipes she had mastered decades ago. Then, she’d forget faces. The lively conversations at our community dinners became shorter, replaced by a polite, distant smile. The impact was a collective heartache. We weren't just losing her company; we were losing a living library of our shared history, a keeper of stories. It created a void, a silence where her wisdom and laughter used to be. As an LVN, I have since cared for many patients walking a similar path. The clinical challenges are one thing—managing medications, ensuring safety, preventing infections. But the true lesson, one that mirrors what I learned with Ms. Clara, is that care extends far beyond the physical. I recall one patient, a former teacher, who was often agitated and withdrawn. The medical tasks were straightforward, but he remained unreachable. One afternoon, I sat with him and simply began reciting a classic poem. His eyes, which had been clouded with confusion, suddenly cleared. He finished the verse, his voice strong and sure. For a fleeting moment, he was back. He wasn't a "dementia patient"; he was a teacher, sharing his knowledge. That moment taught me more than any care plan could. I learned that the person is always in there, even when the path to them is obscured. My role is not to force them back into my reality, but to find a way into theirs, even for a second. It is about preserving dignity when autonomy is gone, and offering comfort when understanding has faded. This philosophy of care—seeing the whole person, not just the disease—is the same one that guides my approach to all patients, from my time on the COVID-19 frontlines to my goal of empowering new mothers. Witnessing the impact of dementia on Ms. Clara and my patients has cemented a core belief in my nursing practice: connection is a non-negotiable part of healing, even when a cure is impossible. It has taught me that the most critical tool I possess is not my stethoscope, but my capacity for patience, empathy, and unwavering presence. This scholarship would support my journey to become an RN, allowing me to further develop the clinical expertise to manage complex conditions like dementia, while never losing sight of the profound human connection at the heart of all true care.

Being a first-generation student means building a bridge without a blueprint. It means that every step I take into the world of higher education is a step into uncharted territory for my family. There is no legacy to lean on, only a legacy to create. For me, this isn't a source of shame, but a source of my fiercest determination. It means my education is not just for me; it’s a promise to my daughter and a tribute to the family who got me here, even without a map. The challenges have been very real. As a single mother, my journey to become an LVN was a grind of late-night study sessions after my daughter’s bedtime, financed by overtime shifts. I learned to navigate financial aid forms and course catalogs alone, often feeling overwhelmed and out of place. The greatest test, however, came after the birth of my daughter, when a severe postpartum infection left me hospitalized and septic. In that ICU bed, I was a nurse who knew the system, yet I felt the profound vulnerability of being a patient. That experience, while terrifying, forged my purpose with absolute clarity. It revealed a critical gap in healthcare: patients need advocates who empower them, not just treat them. It solidified my drive to become a Registered Nurse and close that gap, especially for women in their most fragile moments. My dream is to become an RN who is a guardian and an educator in women’s health. I am driven by the memory of my own fear and the knowledge that my voice, shaped by my struggles, can be a lifeline for other women who feel unseen. I’ve already proven my resilience, from the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic to balancing motherhood with my career. Now, I am ready to take the final step. This scholarship would be more than financial aid; it would be a powerful validation of my first-generation journey. It would directly allow me to cut back on the exhausting overtime hours that drain my time and energy. Those hours would instead be poured directly into my studies and into precious moments with my daughter, ensuring that my pursuit of this degree doesn't come at the cost of being the present mother I strive to be. You would be investing in a woman who has already built the foundation with her own hands and whose purpose is crystal clear. I am not asking for a handout, but for a partnership in building a legacy of education, health, and hope for my family.

My identity as a Black woman is not a sidebar to my story; it is the foundation. It is a legacy of strength, resilience, and a sacred commitment to community that flows through my veins. This identity has profoundly shaped my journey into nursing, a path I walk not only for myself but for my daughter and for the generations of Black women whose healing hands have historically been overlooked yet have always been the bedrock of care. As a first-generation college student and a single mother, I inherited a narrative of having to work twice as hard. There was no roadmap, only a determined faith and the whispers of my ancestors urging me forward. I built my career from the ground up, becoming a CNA and then an LVN, often studying between double shifts. Every textbook I bought was a choice against another necessity, a reality too familiar in our community. But this struggle taught me a fierce form of self-advocacy and a deep understanding of the systemic barriers that many of my future patients would face. This perspective became critically personal after the birth of my daughter. When a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized, I experienced the healthcare system from the other side. Lying in that ICU bed, listening to the gurgle of the wound vac, I felt a specific kind of vulnerability. As a Black woman, I was acutely aware of the chilling statistics on maternal mortality that disproportionately claim the lives of women who look like me. Despite my medical knowledge as an LVN, a part of me feared being dismissed—a fear rooted in the well-documented experiences of Black women in healthcare. That experience was a terrifying clarion call. It revealed the critical, often deadly, gap between clinical treatment and culturally competent, compassionate care that truly listens to Black women’s bodies and voices. My mission is now clear. My path as a future Registered Nurse is to stand in that gap. I am called to work in women’s health, to be a guardian and an advocate for Black mothers. This mission is urgent, especially considering that Black nurses make up only 6.3% to 11.5% of the RN workforce. In my own program, I am one of a small number of Black women, representing a fraction of my cohort. This statistic is not just a number; it is a daily reality that underscores the critical need for more caregivers who share and intimately understand the cultural and historical experiences of the patients we serve. I will use my voice, tempered by my own trauma and my professional knowledge, to challenge the implicit biases that can lead to tragedy. I have already lived this advocacy, whether holding space for isolated patients during COVID-19 or serving in my community. My goal is to be the nurse that a patient remembers not just for the IV she started, but for the dignity she upheld. This scholarship is an investment in more than my education; it is an investment in a future where the healthcare system is infused with the empathy, intelligence, and unwavering strength of Black women. You will be supporting a nurse who understands that healing is not just scientific, but also spiritual and cultural. I carry the weight of my history not as a burden, but as a purpose. I am determined to become an RN who honors the legacy of Black caregivers before me, ensuring that the next generation, starting with my daughter, inherits a world where their health is protected and their lives are cherished without question.

My identity as a Black woman is not a sidebar to my story; it is the foundation. It is a legacy of strength, resilience, and a sacred commitment to community that flows through my veins. This identity has profoundly shaped my journey into nursing, a path I walk not only for myself but for my daughter and for the generations of Black women whose healing hands have historically been overlooked yet have always been the bedrock of care. As a first-generation college student and a single mother, I inherited a narrative of having to work twice as hard. There was no roadmap, only a determined faith and the whispers of my ancestors urging me forward. I built my career from the ground up, becoming a CNA and then an LVN, often studying between double shifts. Every textbook I bought was a choice against another necessity, a reality too familiar in our community. But this struggle taught me a fierce form of self-advocacy and a deep understanding of the systemic barriers that many of my future patients would face. This perspective became critically personal after the birth of my daughter. When a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized, I experienced the healthcare system from the other side. Lying in that ICU bed, listening to the gurgle of the wound vac, I felt a specific kind of vulnerability. As a Black woman, I was acutely aware of the chilling statistics on maternal mortality that disproportionately claim the lives of women who look like me. Despite my medical knowledge as an LVN, a part of me feared being dismissed—a fear rooted in the well-documented experiences of Black women in healthcare. That experience was a terrifying clarion call. It revealed the critical, often deadly, gap between clinical treatment and culturally competent, compassionate care that truly listens to Black women’s bodies and voices. My mission is now clear. My path as a future Registered Nurse is to stand in that gap. I am called to work in women’s health, to be a guardian and an advocate for Black mothers. This mission is urgent, especially considering that Black nurses make up only 6.3% to 11.5% of the RN workforce. In my own program, I am one of a small number of Black women, representing a fraction of my cohort. This statistic is not just a number; it is a daily reality that underscores the critical need for more caregivers who share and intimately understand the cultural and historical experiences of the patients we serve. I will use my voice, tempered by my own trauma and my professional knowledge, to challenge the implicit biases that can lead to tragedy. I have already lived this advocacy, whether holding space for isolated patients during COVID-19 or serving in my community. My goal is to be the nurse that a patient remembers not just for the IV she started, but for the dignity she upheld. This scholarship is an investment in more than my education; it is an investment in a future where the healthcare system is infused with the empathy, intelligence, and unwavering strength of Black women. You will be supporting a nurse who understands that healing is not just scientific, but also spiritual and cultural. I carry the weight of my history not as a burden, but as a purpose. I am determined to become an RN who honors the legacy of Black caregivers before me, ensuring that the next generation, starting with my daughter, inherits a world where their health is protected and their lives are cherished without question.

My identity as a Black woman is not a sidebar to my story; it is the foundation. It is a legacy of strength, resilience, and a sacred culture; community that flows through my veins. This identity has shaped my journey into nursing, a path I walk not only for myself but for my daughter and for the generations of Black women whose healing hands have historically been overlooked yet have always been the bedrock of care. As a first-generation college student and a single mother, I inherited a narrative of having to work twice as hard. There was no roadmap, only a determined faith and the whispers of my ancestors urging me forward. I built my career from the ground up, becoming a CNA and then an LVN, often studying between double shifts. Every textbook I bought was a choice against another necessity, a reality too familiar in our community. But this struggle taught me a fierce form of self-advocacy and a deep understanding of the systemic barriers that many of my future patients would face. I learned to navigate systems not built for us, a skill as crucial as any medical protocol. This lived experience is a form of cultural competency I now bring to every patient interaction, allowing me to recognize the unspoken anxieties of those who feel marginalized by the very systems meant to heal them. This perspective became critically personal after the birth of my daughter. When a severe postpartum infection left me septic and hospitalized, I experienced the healthcare system from the other side. Lying in that ICU bed, listening to the gurgle of the wound vac, I felt a specific kind of vulnerability. As a Black woman, I was acutely aware of the chilling statistics on maternal mortality that disproportionately claim the lives of women who look like me. Despite my medical knowledge as an LVN, a part of me feared being dismissed or not heard—a fear rooted in the well-documented experiences of Black women in healthcare. That experience was a terrifying clarion call. It revealed the critical, often deadly, gap between clinical treatment and culturally competent, compassionate care that truly listens to Black women’s bodies and voices. My mission is now clear. My path as a future Registered Nurse is to stand in that gap. I am called to work in women’s health, to be a guardian and an advocate for Black mothers, to ensure they are seen, heard, and believed. I will use my voice, tempered by my own trauma and my professional knowledge, to challenge the implicit biases that can lead to tragedy. I have already lived this advocacy, whether holding space for isolated patients during COVID-19 or serving in my community, where I’ve learned to build trust where it has been broken. My goal is to be the nurse that a patient remembers not just for the IV started, but for the dignity I upheld. This scholarship is an investment in more than my education; it is an investment in a future where the healthcare system is infused with the empathy, intelligence, and unwavering strength of Black women. You will be supporting a nurse who understands that healing is not just scientific, but also spiritual and cultural. I carry the weight of my history not as a burden, but as a purpose. I am determined to become an RN who honors the legacy of Black caregivers before me, ensuring that the next generation, starting with my daughter, inherits a world where their health is protected and their lives are cherished without question.

My transition into motherhood was meant to be guided by my training as a Licensed Vocational Nurse. I understood the protocols for postnatal care, the importance of hydration, and the warning signs of infection. Yet, two weeks after my daughter’s birth, I found myself in an ICU bed, a patient in the very system I was a part of, confronting a harsh lesson in the gap between clinical knowledge and personal application. The crisis was swift. After a night spent solely focused on my newborn’s needs, I awoke unable to stand, my body gripped by a pain that transcended normal postpartum recovery. The ER was particularly cold and sterile, a loneliness that amplified the fear. The clinical picture emerged with terrifying clarity: a severe uterine infection, a systemic UTI, and critically low potassium levels from profound dehydration. The subsequent surgery left me with the constant, gurgling suction of a wound vac on my abdomen. Lying there, I was confronted with the starkest symbol of my own oversight. How could I care for my newborn with this machine? I was her mother, and I was broken. As a nurse, I had recognized these conditions in others, but I had failed to identify them in myself, blinded by the all-consuming focus of caring for my child. This experience forced a profound professional reckoning. It highlighted a critical vulnerability not just in myself, but in our healthcare approach: we often equip patients with information, but not always with the contextual framework for self-advocacy during life's most overwhelming transitions. I was knowledgeable, yet I was not empowered to apply that knowledge to myself. My recovery, supported by my family who cared for my daughter, became a period of intense reflection. It solidified my resolve to advance my career from an LVN to a Registered Nurse. My goal is to specialize in women’s health, with a specific focus on bridging this exact gap. I want to develop and implement educational programs that empower new parents, not just with discharge paperwork, but with practical, actionable knowledge for self-assessment. I believe in teaching patients and families to recognize the subtle shifts that signal a complication, transforming them from passive recipients of care into active partners in their own well-being. This scholarship represents more than financial assistance; it is an investment in a practitioner who has learned resilience and empathy from the patient’s perspective. I am not just a nursing student; I am a mother and a survivor who has identified a critical need in patient education. I am now pursuing my degree with a clarity of purpose forged in adversity, determined to use my experience to ensure others are equipped to care for themselves as diligently as they care for their loved ones.

My vision for my future as a nurse is not just to perform a role, but to embody a principle I learned early in my career: true healing happens at the intersection of sharp clinical skill and profound human connection. I see myself as a bridge connecting clinical knowledge to compassionate action, and empowering patients and new nurses alike to navigate the healthcare system with confidence and dignity. This vision was first inspired at the bedside, watching charge nurse Tammy hold a patient's hand, keeping calm during a chaotic code and still being available to lead the unit effectively. It was solidified during my own medical crisis after the birth of my daughter, when a severe postpartum infection landed me in the ICU. In an instant, I transitioned from an LVN caregiver to a vulnerable patient, lying alone with the gurgling sound of a wound vac. That experience taught me a brutal but invaluable lesson: we can give patients all the information, but without the context for self-advocacy; especially during life's most overwhelming moments; that knowledge is powerless. As a future Registered Nurse, my primary mission is to close this gap. I will specialize in women’s health, developing clear, actionable educational tools that transform new parents from passive recipients of care into active, confident partners in their well-being. Furthermore, I envision myself as a mentor who pays forward the guidance I received. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me—a calm, competent leader who shows that tasks and compassion are not separate items on a checklist, but two sides of the same coin. My nomination for Nurse of the Year during the COVID-19 pandemic, a time I spent holding my personal iPad for final family goodbyes, affirmed that this depth of care matters. It proved that resilience means being a rock for your patients while remaining a soft place for your family. This is the balanced strength I hope to model for the next generation. Finally, my vision is rooted in wholeness. The same hands that will start IVs and assess patients also find peace in the soil of my garden, nurturing life quietly and patiently. This passion reminds me that growth cannot be rushed, whether for a seedling or a human spirit. It is this balance that will allow me to sustain a long and meaningful career, ensuring I never lose the essential human heart at the core of our profession. My goal is to be more than an RN; it is to be an anchor, an educator, and a mentor. This scholarship is an investment in that vision, supporting a proven nurse, a resilient mother, and a dedicated student who is ready to give everything to a profession that is both a science and an art.

My vision for my future as a nurse is to live out a calling God placed on my life—one rooted in both clinical skill and compassionate service. This calling was forged not only in the hospital but also through my local church, where I learned that true care extends beyond physical walls. My journey in healthcare began as a CNA and then an LVN, a path I navigated as a first-generation college student and single mother. Every step required faith and perseverance, but it was a personal crisis that clarified my purpose. After the birth of my daughter, a severe postpartum infection landed me in the ICU. In an instant, I was the vulnerable patient, listening to the gurgle of a wound vac, praying for strength. That experience revealed a critical gap in healthcare: patients need empowerment, not just information. I am now pursuing my RN degree to close that gap, especially for women in their most fragile moments. My commitment to service is deeply intertwined with my involvement in my local church, which has been my training ground for compassionate outreach. Our church actively serves the vulnerable in our community, and I have had the privilege of co-organizing our annual "Health & Hope" fair for the past three years. This event is more than just offering free blood pressure checks; it is a ministry of presence. I recruit volunteer nurses, set up stations, and spend the day listening to the health concerns of our neighbors, many of whom are uninsured or hesitant to seek medical care. Through this ministry, I’ve been able to bridge the gap between the clinical world and everyday life, offering prayer, a compassionate ear, and guidance alongside basic health screenings. This church-based service directly shapes the nurse I am becoming. It has taught me to look for the whole person, not just the symptom. The patience and listening skills I practice during our church’s community dinners or while delivering groceries to elderly members are the same skills I use at the bedside to comfort an anxious patient. When I held my personal iPad during the COVID-19 pandemic so families could say their final goodbyes, it was this same spirit of service—honed through my church—that sustained me. It is a mindset that says, "See the person, and meet them where they are." My goal is to become an RN who embodies this whole-person care. I want to be a mentor who shows new nurses that clinical expertise and Christ-like compassion are inseparable—one heals the body, the other heals the spirit. This scholarship is an investment in that mission. It would empower a mother, a first-generation student, and a faithful servant to become a nurse leader who treats every patient with the dignity, advocacy, and grace I first learned to practice within the walls of my church.

My vision for my future as a nurse is not simply to fulfill a role, but to live out a calling God placed on my life—one rooted in healing, compassion, advocacy, and servant leadership. Nursing, for me, is a ministry of both skill and heart. It is where clinical excellence meets God-led purpose, and where I can be His hands in moments of vulnerability, fear, and hope. I am not pursuing nursing to earn a title; I am pursuing it to become the nurse I once prayed for when I was the one lying in the hospital bed. My calling began early, but it was strengthened through adversity. As a first-generation college student, I entered the healthcare world with determination, but also uncertainty. No one in my family had navigated higher education, much less nursing school. I worked my way up, first becoming a CNA and then an LVN, often studying between shifts and caring for others while quietly tucking away my own dreams. As a single mother, education was not a luxury—it was a lifeline. Every class, every exam, every long shift was a sacrifice that required faith, perseverance, and God’s grace. I was not just fighting for a career. I was fighting for a future for my child and for the generations after us. My purpose became clearer during a moment that changed the way I view nursing forever. After giving birth to my daughter, I developed a severe postpartum infection and was rushed to the ICU. In seconds, I went from caregiver to patient, from being the one holding the hand to being the one needing to be held. I still remember lying alone, listening to the constant gurgle of the wound vacuum at my bedside, praying for strength and peace. It was a valley moment—physically painful, emotionally overwhelming, and spiritually refining. In that hospital room, God reminded me that information alone is not enough for patients. I had medical knowledge, yet I struggled to advocate for myself. That experience revealed a gap that I now consider part of my purpose: patients need not only education, but empowerment. They need nurses who teach them how to find their voice when fear tries to silence it. As a future Registered Nurse, especially in women’s health, I am committed to closing this gap. I want to create clear, compassionate, faith-informed patient education resources that turn new mothers from passive recipients of care into confident partners in their healing. Another defining chapter of my journey came during the COVID-19 pandemic. As an LVN, I served on the frontlines during one of the most devastating periods healthcare has ever witnessed. There were days when I held my personal iPad so families could say their final goodbyes. It was emotionally heavy work, but God sustained me. I was later nominated for Nurse of the Year—not because of clinical skills alone, but because of the heart and humanity I brought into every patient interaction. That nomination affirmed what God had already been teaching me: nursing is not only what you do, but also who you are for people in their most fragile moments. My leadership vision is shaped by the mentors God placed in my life. I watched nurses like Charge Nurse Tammy lead with grace, steadiness, and compassion—praying with patients, comforting families, and still guiding the team through chaos with excellence. I want to be that kind of leader. My goal is to mentor the next generation of CNAs, LVNs, and new RNs, especially those who doubt themselves the way I once did. Too many aspiring healthcare workers walk into a hospital believing they must choose between clinical competence and compassion. I want to model that the two are inseparable—one heals the body, the other heals the spirit. Financial hardship has never stopped me, but it has made the journey more difficult. As a single mother with no generational financial foundation to rely on, I have had to work twice as hard to keep moving forward. There were semesters when I chose between groceries and textbooks, between gas to drive to clinicals or paying a bill. Yet, every time I prayed for provision, God made a way. This scholarship would not just ease a financial burden—it would multiply impact. It would support a student who refuses to quit, a mother determined to break generational cycles, and a future nurse who intends to pour back into her community. Beyond the hospital walls, I find restoration in the garden—hands in the soil, nurturing life slowly and patiently. Gardening reminds me of God’s timing and His process. Seeds sprout in hiddenness before they bloom. Healing, learning, and growth are the same. Whether for a patient, a child, or a young nurse I will one day mentor, I want to cultivate environments where growth is tended with patience, prayer, and care. My mission is greater than becoming an RN. I want to be an anchor for patients who feel lost, an educator who equips women to advocate for their health, and a mentor who lifts others as she climbs. I want to serve with a heart that reflects God’s love, wisdom, and compassion. Nursing is both a science and a ministry, and I believe God will use my story—not despite the hardships, but because of them—to reach others with empathy, strength, and faith. This scholarship is not simply an investment in my education. It is an investment in my calling, my family’s future, and the women, families, and future nurses whose lives I will impact. With God’s guidance, I am ready to continue this journey—faith-first, purpose-driven, and committed to serving with both skill and heart.

If you’d asked me years ago why I wanted to be a nurse, I would have talked about the nurses I watched in the ICU. I was a CNA and telemetry tech then, completely in awe of people like charge nurse Tammy. I saw her run a code, her voice calm and sure, while one of her hands held the patient’s. She never forgot the person in the middle of the medical emergency. That’s what I thought nursing was; that perfect mix of skill and heart. It’s what made me become an LVN, even while working full-time and raising my young daughter. But what truly shaped my journey was a lesson I never expected to learn from the other side of the bedrail. Two weeks after my daughter was born, my own nursing knowledge didn’t save me. I woke up one morning and simply couldn’t stand. The pain was terrifying. I remember the chill of the ER sheets and the sterile smell that made me feel completely alone. The doctors told me I had a uterine infection and UTI which induced my septicemia. I was also dehydration. After surgery, I was left with a wound vac, a machine that gurgled and sucked on my stomach constantly. Lying there, I felt like the biggest failure. I was a nurse. I knew the signs of sepsis. But I’d been so focused on my newborn that I’d disappeared. I was her mother, and I was broken. That experience changed everything. It lit a fire in me. I realized we send new mother’s home with a stack of papers, but we don’t always make them feel empowered to truly listen to their own bodies. I’ve reached the ceiling as an LVN, and I knew it was time to further my education and become an RN. I need to be the one who helps close that gap. I want to work in women’s health to create resources that are real and usable, to teach new families how to advocate for themselves before a small worry becomes a crisis. My own scare taught me that the most important tool in healthcare isn't just what you know; its making sure patients feel seen and heard. When I need a break from the world of medicine, I find my balance in my garden. Nursing is all about beeping machines and high stakes decisions, but my garden is quiet. There’s no rushing a seed to sprout. There’s just the sun on my back, the dirt under my nails, and the simple, honest work of helping things grow. It’s also where I connect with my daughter. She loves helping me water the plants and hunt for ripe strawberries. In those moments, I’m not thinking about care plans or diagnoses. I’m just a mom, showing her the magic of nurturing a tiny seed into something strong and alive. That time with her, away from the hospital lights, is what refills my cup. It reminds me why I’m fighting so hard to build a better future for us, and for the families I hope to serve. This scholarship would mean I could cut back on a few overtime shifts and breathe a little easier. It would mean more time for my studies and more afternoons in the garden with my daughter. You’d be betting on someone who has been in the trenches, both as a nurse and a patient. I know what it takes to care for people, and I know what it takes to care for myself. I am ready to give this profession everything I have.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU. As a CNA and telemetry tech in 2010, I was in awe of nurses like charge nurse Tammy, who could direct a chaotic code while simultaneously holding a patient’s hand. She showed me that healthcare is the powerful fusion of sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. This revelation is the core of why I have chosen to pursue a degree in healthcare. It is a profession that demands we treat the disease while honoring the person. In 2013, I became an LVN to act on this calling. For ten years, I’ve loved my work, but I have reached the limit of my license. My desire to understand the complex ‘why’ behind the care I deliver compels me to advance. This need was personally driven home by a severe postpartum medical crisis where a systemic infection led to sepsis. In an instant, I transitioned from caregiver to patient. That experience gifted me with an intimate understanding of vulnerability and a fierce determination to provide care that is as empathetic as it is expert. As a woman in the healthcare field, I hope to make a positive impact by embodying this principle of whole-person care and by lifting others as I climb. I witnessed the critical need for this human touch during the COVID-19 pandemic. I spent countless hours using my personal iPad to connect isolated patients with their families for final goodbyes. It was a devastating period, but it solidified my role as both a rock for my patients and a soft place for my own family. This dedication was recognized when I was nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023; a moment that affirmed that compassion matters. My goal is to become an RN to develop complex care plans and make critical decisions. But my greater mission is to become a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me: a guide who demonstrates that true healing happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. I will leverage my experience as a woman, a mother, and a former patient to advocate for both my colleagues and those in our care, ensuring our profession never loses its essential human heart. This scholarship would be a game changer, allowing me to cut back on overtime shifts and dedicate more time to my studies. You would be investing in a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to elevate this profession. Thank you for considering my story

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My decision to pursue my education at a community college is deeply rooted in the most defining chapters of my life: my journey as a mother and my decade of experience as a Licensed Vocational Nurse. These experiences have taught me the irreplaceable value of practical, accessible education that equips you to meet life's most pressing challenges head-on. My path to nursing began over a decade ago as a CNA, inspired by mentors who showed me that true care lies at the intersection of clinical skill and human connection. When I became a young mother, that drive intensified. I made the deliberate choice to attend a community college to become an LVN because it offered a rigorous, respected pathway that I could navigate while supporting my daughter. It was a grind of full-time work and night classes, but it was the foundation that allowed me to build a stable, fulfilling career for ten years. However, two life-altering experiences solidified my need to return to a community college to advance my education. The first was a severe postpartum medical crisis. After the birth of my daughter, I developed a catastrophic infection that led to sepsis and surgery. In an instant, I transitioned from caregiver to patient. Lying in a hospital bed with a wound vac on my abdomen, I understood vulnerability in a way no textbook could ever teach. That experience gifted me with a profound, empathetic insight into the patient's perspective—an insight I now see as essential for exceptional nursing. The second experience was the COVID-19 pandemic. As an LVN on the front lines, I witnessed the profound isolation of patients separated from their families. I used my own iPad to facilitate final goodbyes, an act that underscored a critical truth: technology is a tool, but the human heart is the instrument of true healing. This period, for which I was humbled to be nominated for Nurse of the Year in 2023, proved my resilience and deepened my commitment to the profession. These experiences have clarified my future educational goals. I have reached the scope of practice for an LVN. I am now driven to become a Registered Nurse to gain a deeper understanding of the "why" behind complex disease processes, to develop comprehensive care plans, and to assume a leadership role on the healthcare team. My immediate goal is to successfully complete the LVN to RN bridge program at this community college. Long-term, I plan to return to the hospital setting, specializing in medical-surgical or postpartum care, where I can mentor future CNAs and LVNs just as I was once guided. This scholarship is an investment in a proven caregiver, a resilient mother, and a dedicated student. Your support would allow me to reduce my overtime hours, dedicating more time to mastering the advanced knowledge required to become the competent, compassionate RN I am called to be. Thank you for considering my application.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at a bedside in the ICU. As a CNA in 2010, I was in awe of nurses like charge nurse Tammy, who could direct a chaotic code while simultaneously holding a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor. She embodied a powerful truth: nursing is the fusion of sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. Inspired, I became an LVN in 2013, supporting my young daughter by working full-time while studying nights—a grind that cemented my commitment. For a decade, I’ve loved being an LVN. But a personal crisis revealed how much I still had to learn. Two weeks after my daughter’s birth, I became the patient. I was hospitalized with a severe uterine infection and sepsis. Lying in a cold ER, unable to stand, I was a nurse who had missed the signs in myself. I awoke from surgery with the constant gurgle of a wound vac on my abdomen. I was a mother, and I felt broken. That experience was a brutal, transformative lesson. It closed the gap between my clinical knowledge and the visceral reality of being a patient—the vulnerability, the fear, the complete loss of control. It taught me that true patient advocacy requires not just education, but the empathy born from shared experience. I am now pursuing my RN to expand my scope of practice and understand the complex "why" behind the care I provide. My inspiration is dual: the exemplary nurses who first showed me the way, and the memory of my own vulnerability. I am driven to become a nurse who not only manages complex care plans but who can truly see the patient behind the chart, because I have been there. To me, "human touch" is the intentional act of connecting a patient's humanity to their clinical reality. It is not merely a physical gesture, but a holistic philosophy of care that says, "I see you, and you are more than your diagnosis." In an era of advanced technology, it is the irreplaceable element that transforms a treatment protocol into healing. The impact of this philosophy is profound. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the absence of family visitors created a void of loneliness that medicine alone could not fill. I remember holding my personal iPad for hours, facilitating final goodbyes between patients and their loved ones. My hand was not on the patient for comfort, but I was providing a different kind of human touch: bridging an impossible gap. That act had no medical code, but its therapeutic impact was undeniable—offering solace to the dying and a semblance of closure to the grieving. I would go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. That period taught me that "human touch" often means being a vessel for compassion, even when it demands personal resilience. This concept was also starkly absent during my own medical crisis after the birth of my daughter. As I lay in a sterile, cold ER with a systemic infection, I was surrounded by competent clinical care. But what I craved was a connection that acknowledged my terror as a new mother, lying there broken, separated from her newborn. The clinical efficiency, without that reassuring "human touch," deepened my sense of isolation and failure. These experiences have shaped my practice. "Human touch" is the calm authority of a veteran nurse holding a hand during a code. It is pausing before a task to explain the "why" to an anxious patient, empowering them as a partner in their care. It is the simple, powerful act of true presence. As I advance to become an RN, my goal is to be a standard-bearer for this principle. I will leverage my expanded knowledge to not only make critical decisions but to ensure those decisions are delivered with unwavering compassion. True healing happens at the intersection of competence and connection, and I am committed to honoring both.

My transition into motherhood was meant to be guided by my training as a Licensed Vocational Nurse. I understood the protocols for postnatal care, the importance of hydration, and the warning signs of infection. Yet, two weeks after my daughter’s birth, I found myself in an ICU bed, a patient in the very system I was a part of, confronting a harsh lesson in the gap between clinical knowledge and personal application. The crisis was swift. After a night spent solely focused on my newborn’s needs, I awoke unable to stand, my body gripped by a pain that transcended normal postpartum recovery. The ER was particularly cold and sterile, a loneliness that amplified the fear. The clinical picture emerged with terrifying clarity: a severe uterine infection, a systemic UTI, and critically low potassium levels from profound dehydration. The subsequent surgery left me with the constant, gurgling suction of a wound vac on my abdomen. Lying there, I was confronted with the starkest symbol of my own oversight. How could I care for my newborn with this machine? I was her mother, and I was broken. As a nurse, I had recognized these conditions in others, but I had failed to identify them in myself, blinded by the all-consuming focus of caring for my child. This experience forced a profound professional reckoning. It highlighted a critical vulnerability not just in myself, but in our healthcare approach: we often equip patients with information, but not always with the contextual framework for self-advocacy during life's most overwhelming transitions. I was knowledgeable, yet I was not empowered to apply that knowledge to myself. My recovery, supported by my family who cared for my daughter, became a period of intense reflection. It solidified my resolve to advance my career from an LVN to a Registered Nurse. My goal is to specialize in women’s health, with a specific focus on bridging this exact gap. I want to develop and implement educational programs that empower new parents, not just with discharge paperwork, but with practical, actionable knowledge for self-assessment. I believe in teaching patients and families to recognize the subtle shifts that signal a complication, transforming them from passive recipients of care into active partners in their own well-being. This scholarship represents more than financial assistance; it is an investment in a practitioner who has learned resilience and empathy from the patient’s perspective. I am not just a nursing student; I am a mother and a survivor who has identified a critical need in patient education. I am now pursuing my degree with a clarity of purpose forged in adversity, determined to use my experience to ensure others are equipped to care for themselves as diligently as they care for their loved ones.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a single mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my babygirl, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a single mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my daughter. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my babygirl, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.

My journey to nursing didn’t start in a classroom; it started at the bedside in the ICU, as a CNA and telemetry tec in 2010. I was in awe of the nurses I worked with. They weren’t just checking tasks off a list. During a code, one veteran RN and charge nurse Tammy, would simultaneously direct the team and hold a patient’s hand, her voice a calm anchor in the chaos. It was watching her and others like her that made me realize nursing was more than a job; it was about combining sharp clinical skill with profound human connection. In 2013, with a young daughter to support, I took the leap. I worked full-time while studying nights to become an LVN, a grind that was worth every sleepless night. For ten years now, I’ve loved being an LVN. But I’ve always known I had more to give. I’ve reached the limit of what my license allows, and the desire to understand the ‘why’ behind the care I provide has only grown stronger. I’m ready to think and act at the RN level. Balancing this ambition with life has been my biggest challenge. Being a mom means my study time often happens after bedtime, and my dreams are financed by overtime shifts. Then came COVID. The fear we all felt was real, but nothing compared to the loneliness of the patients. I remember spending countless hours during many shifts in a room with patients whose family couldn't visit, holding my personal iPad so families could see and speak to their loved ones. Sometimes for the last time. I’d go home, strip my scrubs in the garage, and try to shower away the heartache before hugging my own family. Those years taught me a strength I didn’t know I had. They forced me to be a rock for my patients and a soft place for my family, proving that I could bear immense weight without breaking. This is why being nominated for Texas Health Nurse of the Year in 2023 meant so much to me. It wasn’t about winning an award; it was a moment of being seen. It felt like my facility was saying, “We see how much you care, and it matters.” That recognition fuels my next step; the LVN to RN bridge program. My goal isn’t just a new title. I want to be the kind of nurse who elevates the entire unit. I plan to return to the specialty that inspired me, now with the knowledge to develop complex care plans and the authority to make critical decisions. Most importantly, I want to be a mentor. I want to be for a new CNA or LVN what Tammy was for me; a guide, showing them that true care happens at the intersection of competence and compassion. This scholarship would be a game-changer for my family and me. It would mean cutting back on just a few of those overtime shifts, giving me more precious hours to dedicate to my studies and my family. You’d be investing in more than a student; you’d be supporting a dedicated mother and a proven nurse who is ready to give everything she has to this profession. Thank you for considering my story.