My journey into nursing began with my own experience as a patient. When I delivered my son, the delivery was complicated, and I was terrified. I was a single, first-time mom, facing one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. What I remember most is not the fear, but the CRNA who cared for me. She brushed my hair back from my face when I couldn’t move my arms, and she suctioned my mouth when I started vomiting. More than the clinical tasks, it was her calm presence that made the situation bearable. In a moment where I felt completely powerless, she gave me dignity, comfort, and safety. That experience showed me what it means to truly care for someone, and it was the first seed that grew into my decision to pursue a career in nursing. Since then, I have seen again and again how much a nurse can change the course of someone’s health journey. At the Cleveland Clinic, I have worked on research projects that follow patients after heart surgery, studying outcomes and quality of life. Through this work, I learned that recovery is not only measured in physical healing. Many patients struggled with anxiety, depression, or trauma, and these challenges shaped their recovery as much as their lab values or surgical incisions. I came to understand that mental and physical health cannot be separated, and that nurses have a unique role in bridging that divide. This experience confirmed my decision to pursue psychiatric nursing, and today I am completing my Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner degree at Duke University. My values as a nurse are also shaped by my community work. For years, I have been active in the Solon PTA, where I have helped lead the Budget Bin Scholarship Sale and organized family service events. One of the most meaningful has been Trike & Bike, a fundraiser where children ride to raise money for pediatric cancer research. Watching kids come together for a cause greater than themselves has reminded me how powerful collective service can be. The same is true in healthcare. Patients do better when they feel supported not only by providers but also by their families and communities. Another formative experience came during my time working on the Rocky Boy Reservation, where I partnered with Indigenous children and families. I witnessed firsthand the health disparities they face, but I also experienced the strength of their traditions, resilience, and community bonds. This deepened my understanding of cultural humility in nursing, reminding me that care must be adapted to the values and lived experiences of each patient. It strengthened my commitment to being not only a provider of medical care but also an advocate for equity and culturally responsive healthcare. Beyond nursing, what gives me balance and joy is my family, my community, and my love for animals. My children are at the center of my life, and they keep me grounded in what matters most. In addition, I volunteer with local shelters through Dog Day Out programs, taking dogs out into the community for walks, car rides, and coffee runs. Sharing their stories and personalities helps them find families and forever homes. This experience combines two of my passions: advocating for those without a voice and creating connections that change lives. What drives me as a caregiver is the memory of the nurse who comforted me when I was most vulnerable, the patients whose lives are shaped by both physical and mental health, and the families in my community who show me the power of small acts of service. Nursing allows me to bring all of these pieces together: personal experience, clinical expertise, research, community engagement, and family values. Outside of nursing, my children, my community, my creative work, and my time volunteering with shelter dogs give me balance and joy. Together, these experiences and passions shape who I am, not just as a student or a nurse, but as a person committed to using compassion, science, and service to make a lasting difference.

My decision to pursue a degree in healthcare began with my own experience as a patient. When I delivered my son, the delivery was difficult, and I was terrified. As a single, first-time mom, I did not know what to expect. The CRNA who cared for me made all the difference. She brushed my hair when I could not move my arms, and she suctioned my mouth when I started vomiting. She spoke to me calmly and helped me feel safe in a moment that could have been overwhelming. That experience showed me how powerful compassionate care can be, and it planted the seed for my career in nursing. As I continued in school and later began working at the Cleveland Clinic, I saw again how much a nurse can shape someone’s health journey. In my work on research projects following patients after heart surgery, I learned that recovery is not only about the physical body. Many patients struggled with anxiety and depression, and those struggles affected their outcomes just as much as lab results or surgical complications. This confirmed my decision to pursue psychiatric nursing. Now, as a student in Duke University’s Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner Doctorate program, I am preparing to provide care that treats both the mind and body. My community service has also shaped the way I see healthcare. Through my work with the PTA in Solon, I have organized events like the Raise Craze Kindness Cup and the Budget Bin Scholarship Sale. These programs were about more than fundraising. They encouraged children to practice kindness, provided scholarships for students, and reminded families that community support can make a difference. In healthcare, the same principle applies. Patients do better when they feel connected to others and when their community is part of the healing process. As a woman in healthcare, I want to use my education and experiences to make a positive impact. I know what it feels like to be vulnerable, to sit in a hospital bed unsure of what will happen next. I also know what it feels like to be lifted up by a provider who sees you as a person, not just a patient. I want to carry that forward for others, whether it is a new mother facing a difficult delivery, a teenager struggling with anxiety, or an older adult recovering from surgery. In the future, I hope to combine clinical practice with community involvement. I want to care for patients in the clinic, but I also want to bring mental health education into schools, PTAs, and local organizations. Healthcare does not start and end in hospitals. It begins at home, in classrooms, and in neighborhoods. By integrating psychiatric care into primary care and community settings, I believe I can reduce stigma, increase access, and help families feel supported. Pursuing this degree is not just about advancing my career. It is about honoring the care I once received, and using my skills to serve others with the same compassion that changed my life.

I have always believed that our lives are defined not only by the challenges we face, but by how we respond to them. My path to becoming a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP) has been shaped by a mix of personal trials, professional experiences, and an enduring passion for improving mental health care, especially for those who are underserved. I grew up knowing what it meant to navigate hardship. As a single mother, I have faced financial strain, long hours, and the constant balancing act of school, work, and parenting. My resilience was tested further by deeply personal experiences — surviving sexual assault and enduring my own mental health struggles, including a suicide attempt. These moments, though painful, were pivotal. They fueled my determination not only to heal but to become a voice for others who feel unseen and unheard. My professional journey began in the cardiovascular intensive care unit, where I learned the value of precision, teamwork, and patient advocacy. While I loved critical care nursing, I found myself drawn toward the emotional and psychological side of healing. Over time, I realized that my true calling was in mental health, an area where stigma too often silences those who need help most. This realization inspired my transition into psychiatric nursing and my enrollment in Duke University’s PMHNP Doctor of Nursing Practice program. Throughout my training, I have been especially passionate about working with underserved populations. Volunteering in community outreach programs and engaging with Indigenous communities showed me the immense gaps in mental health access. I saw firsthand how socioeconomic barriers, cultural stigma, and limited resources can prevent people from getting the care they deserve. These experiences deepened my commitment to making mental health care more equitable and culturally responsive. My aspirations extend beyond individual patient care. I hope to develop community-based mental health programs that integrate both traditional and innovative treatment models, including emerging fields such as microbiomics in psychiatry. I believe that addressing mental health requires not only medication and therapy but also an understanding of how our biology, environment, and lived experiences intersect. What drives me most is the belief that every person’s story matters. I want to be the kind of provider who listens without judgment, who creates a safe space for healing, and who empowers patients to reclaim their sense of self. My personal history gives me a unique empathy for those who are struggling, I understand what it feels like to fight for stability, to face stigma, and to question your worth. Pursuing this scholarship means more than financial assistance; it represents an investment in my ability to make a lasting difference. It would allow me to focus more fully on my studies, clinical work, and community outreach, rather than on the financial strain of graduate school. Ultimately, my goal is to give back, to my patients, my community, and the profession, by breaking down barriers to care and helping others find hope in the moments they feel most hopeless. I have walked through some of life’s darkest places and emerged with a deep commitment to helping others find light in theirs. This is more than a career to me, it's my calling.

I have experienced firsthand the profound impact that mental health challenges can have on individuals and families. As a survivor of sexual assault and a single mother who has navigated periods of depression and even a suicide attempt, I have known what it is like to feel unseen and unsupported. These experiences not only shaped my empathy but also fueled my determination to break the silence and stigma surrounding mental health. They taught me that healing is rarely linear, and that compassionate, trauma-informed care can be transformative. These challenges have strengthened my belief in the power of human connection. I have come to see relationships, both personal and professional, as a foundation for recovery. Friends, colleagues, and mentors who offered unconditional positive regard helped me rebuild my life, and in turn, I have committed myself to being that source of support for others. I now view every interaction as an opportunity to foster dignity, understanding, and hope. Professionally, my experiences have become the driving force behind my decision to pursue a career as a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP). As a nurse, I have witnessed the ways mental health struggles can complicate physical health recovery and how fragmented our current system can be. This has strengthened my aspiration to provide holistic, accessible, and culturally sensitive care, particularly for underserved populations who face barriers to mental health services. My career goal is twofold: to provide direct clinical care that empowers individuals to take charge of their mental wellness, and to contribute to systemic change through education and advocacy. I envision working in a community-based mental health setting, serving individuals across the lifespan, with a particular focus on trauma survivors and marginalized populations. In the future, I hope to teach at the community college level, mentoring nursing students and expanding the pipeline of compassionate, skilled mental health professionals. Making a positive impact in mental health means going beyond symptom management. It means addressing the social determinants of mental health, advocating for policy changes that improve access to care, and integrating innovative approaches, such as microbiome research and trauma-informed interventions, into treatment plans. I want my patients to feel heard and supported, no matter their background or diagnosis. Ultimately, my life and career path are driven by the belief that mental health is a human right, not a privilege. The struggles I’ve faced have deepened my understanding that recovery is possible, but often requires a compassionate guide, a safe space to be vulnerable, and access to evidence-based care. I plan to be that guide for my patients and an advocate for a more inclusive mental health system. My journey has been far from easy, but it has given me the resilience, empathy, and determination to create lasting change. Through my work as a PMHNP, educator, and advocate, I will dedicate my career to ensuring that no one feels alone in their mental health journey so that every person has the opportunity to thrive and be treated with the dignity they deserve.

My journey with mental health has been forged through some of the darkest moments of my life, moments that nearly broke me, but ultimately shaped who I am today. I was a single mother, raising my son while pursuing an advanced degree in psychiatric nursing. On the outside, I often appear strong, capable, and driven. But behind that exterior is a survivor, of sexual assault, deep depression, and a suicide attempt that I never imagined I’d live through. These experiences are not just chapters in my story, they are the very foundation of my commitment to breaking the silence around mental health. For a long time, I carried unbearable weight in silence. After surviving sexual assault, I felt ashamed and isolated. I didn’t feel safe talking about what had happened, not with friends, not with family. I buried it, convinced that ignoring the pain would help me move forward. But trauma has a way of catching up to you. The anxiety, depression, and self-doubt became overwhelming. I hit a point where I no longer wanted to live. The night of my suicide attempt, I genuinely believed that my child and the world would be better off without me. But I woke up. And that was the beginning of something different. In the months that followed, I began to reach for help. I started therapy. I connected with a community of other survivors. I learned to sit with my pain rather than run from it. I learned that healing is not linear, and that strength is not the absence of suffering, but the courage to face it head-on. As I rebuilt my life, I found a new purpose: to use my story not as a source of shame, but as a source of strength. I am now working toward becoming a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP), with the goal of helping others who are living through their own private battles. I want to be the kind of provider who truly sees people; their wounds, their resilience, and their humanity. Being a single mother while navigating trauma has not been easy. There have been days when I’ve questioned if I’m doing enough, being enough. But my son is my motivation. I want them to grow up in a world where mental health is not hidden in the shadows, where asking for help is seen as strength, and where healing is celebrated. My own journey has made me more compassionate, more grounded, and more determined. I understand what it means to feel invisible. I know how powerful it is to have someone say, “You’re not alone.” And I believe deeply that we can’t destigmatize mental health unless we’re willing to talk honestly about the pain and the recovery. The story of Ethel Hayes and this scholarship’s mission speaks to the very heart of what I believe in: that we honor those we’ve lost by speaking truth, offering support, and refusing to let silence win. I’m no longer ashamed of my past. I carry it with me as both a scar and a torch, one that I intend to use to light the way for others.

My journey into the healthcare field began in a space where physical healing and emotional suffering often coexist: the cardiothoracic intensive care unit. As a registered nurse caring for patients after complex heart and lung surgeries, I witnessed how recovery involved far more than physical interventions. Many patients faced cognitive fog, emotional withdrawal, or even despair after surgery. During the COVID-19 pandemic, these challenges were intensified by isolation from loved ones, and I found myself navigating conversations about grief, fear, and trauma more often than medications or lab results. It was in these moments, comforting patients, advocating for mental health consults, and witnessing the profound impact of emotional support on recovery, that I realized I was being called to a different kind of care. I chose to pursue my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) degree to become a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP) because I believe that mental health is inseparable from physical well-being. My goal is to meet people where they are, emotionally, culturally, and psychologically, and help them reclaim a sense of agency and hope. As a first-generation Chinese American, I also carry a deep personal connection to the mental health field. Mental illness was never spoken about in my household. I grew up internalizing the belief that emotional struggles were signs of weakness, and I quietly battled anxiety and depression for much of my youth. I often think about how my younger self would have benefitted from just one provider who understood the importance of cultural humility, listened without judgment, and created a safe space to talk. Now, I strive to be that provider for others. I am particularly interested in trauma-informed care and the intersection of mental health and community systems. My volunteer experiences—whether organizing digital safety events through the PTA, mentoring pre-nursing students, or supporting community mental health fairs, have taught me how impactful preventive education and outreach can be. I also hope to contribute to research on the gut-brain axis and microbiome-informed psychiatry, as emerging science continues to show the deep connection between our physical and emotional worlds. Though I am not studying occupational therapy, I deeply admire the mission of the field and the values that Christina Taylese Singh clearly embodied: compassion, dedication, and a desire to improve quality of life for others. Occupational therapists, like psychiatric-mental health providers, help individuals rebuild autonomy and meaning after illness or injury. In many ways, we are kindred disciplines, united by our commitment to helping others thrive in their daily lives, not just survive. Christina’s story moved me deeply. Her path and passion remind me why this work matters, not only for the patients we serve, but also for the communities we uplift and the dreams we carry with us. I am honored to apply for a scholarship in her memory and hope to carry forward her legacy by practicing with the same heart and dedication that she brought to her calling.

As someone from Cleveland, being a fan of LeBron James is personal. I didn’t just watch him on TV, I grew up watching him carry the hopes of an entire city on his shoulders. From his early days with the Cavaliers to the heartbreak of him leaving for Miami, and then the unforgettable redemption of his return, LeBron’s journey has felt deeply intertwined with ours. When LeBron left for the Heat, I was devastated, like many Clevelanders. It felt like we had lost more than a basketball player; we had lost a hometown hero. But when he came back, he showed us what it means to grow, evolve, and never forget where you come from. His return wasn’t just about basketball, it was about loyalty, unfinished business, and writing a new chapter for Northeast Ohio. And when he delivered that 2016 NBA Championship, the first in Cavaliers history, it was pure magic. It wasn’t just a win for the team; it was a win for every Clevelander who had waited decades for that moment. Off the court, LeBron continues to earn my respect. He’s never forgotten his roots. From establishing the I PROMISE School in Akron to launching scholarships and community initiatives, LeBron has used his platform to uplift others, especially kids who, like him, needed someone to believe in them. He doesn’t just talk about change, he creates it. As for whether LeBron is the greatest basketball player of all time? I think greatness is about more than just stats and rings. It’s about impact. And in that regard, LeBron is absolutely one of the greatest to ever do it. He’s dominated across decades, led with humility, and inspired millions. While debates will always continue between him, Jordan, and others, for me, and for Cleveland, LeBron will always be more than a player. He’s a symbol of resilience, redemption, and hometown pride.

Substance use has not personally touched my immediate family, but it has profoundly impacted my life through my close friendships. I have watched people I love struggle with addiction, one friend who tragically passed away leaving her young son behind, and another who is now thriving in sobriety and just graduated from nursing school. These experiences, combined with my work in community-based mental health care, have shaped my passion for supporting individuals in recovery and redefining how we approach substance use treatment. My friend who passed away struggled in silence for years. Her addiction was not the result of weakness, but of unprocessed trauma, untreated mental illness, and a system that failed to meet her with the care she needed. Her loss was devastating and deeply personal. It fueled in me a desire not only to grieve but to act; to be someone who listens, advocates, and walks alongside others before it’s too late. In contrast, my other friend’s story is one of resilience and transformation. He entered recovery with determination and vulnerability, and I was honored to mentor him throughout his journey; first in life, and later through nursing school. Watching him graduate, now equipped to care for others with the same empathy that saved him, reminded me why I chose this path. Addiction is not a moral failing, it’s a medical and emotional issue that requires compassion, structure, and human connection. His success is one of my proudest accomplishments, not because I saved him, but because I never stopped believing in him. Today, as a doctoral student at Duke University studying to become a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP), I work in community-based mental health settings where I support individuals on Medication-Assisted Treatment (MAT) plans. Many of my patients live with co-occurring substance use disorders and mental illness. I meet them at the intersection of survival and hope, helping manage their medications, offering trauma-informed therapy, and advocating for long-term recovery plans tailored to their unique lives. These experiences have shaped both my professional goals and personal beliefs. I believe in meeting people where they are, not where we think they should be. I believe in harm reduction, peer support, and the healing power of dignity. And I believe in mentorship, not just as a tool for academic or career growth, but as a lifeline of connection, belonging, and belief. In the future, I hope to open a community-based psychiatric practice that offers integrated care for individuals struggling with addiction. I envision a space that provides access to MAT, therapy, peer-led support groups, and holistic wellness tools. I want to build the kind of space that might have saved my friend, and that continues to lift others up, just as I’ve watched happen in my work and in my friendships. Deanna Ellis’s legacy of giving, despite her own struggles, reflects exactly what I strive to embody in my career and life: compassion in action. If awarded this scholarship, I will continue walking beside those in recovery; offering empathy, expertise, and unwavering belief that healing is possible.

Service has always been a driving force in my life, not because I was told it should be, but because I’ve lived through moments where the kindness and care of others helped me survive. Today, as a doctoral student pursuing my Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP) degree at Duke University, I remain committed to giving back, not just through my future career in mental health, but through the everyday ways I show up for my community. My own journey hasn’t been easy. I’m a survivor of sexual assault, a former single mother, and a first-generation college student. There were times when I felt invisible, lost, and unsure if I’d ever be able to move forward. But in those moments, it was people, mentors, therapists, and community members, who extended support, who believed in me even when I couldn’t believe in myself. That support changed my life, and it’s why I now center service in everything I do. Currently, I volunteer through my children’s school PTA, where I help organize inclusive, educational events for families. I’ve secured grant funding for digital safety workshops and helped coordinate Budget Bin, a community resale event that offers affordable clothing to families in need while funding high school scholarships. It’s a program that uplifts both those facing financial hardship and those striving for higher education, a full-circle act of service I’m proud to support. I also co-founded our city’s Solon Trike & Bike event after seeing my son’s passion for pediatric cancer research. What started as a single ride has grown into an annual community event that has raised over $1 million for Cleveland Clinic Children’s Hospital. It’s an example of how even small acts of service, rooted in love and purpose, can ripple outward in powerful ways. Beyond that, I volunteer at the Cuyahoga County Animal Shelter, helping dogs gain visibility and social skills so they can be adopted into loving homes. My family and I also rescued a dog scheduled for euthanasia in Kentucky, a reminder that every life deserves a second chance. I’ve also served at the Cleveland Food Bank, distributing meals and offering a warm smile to those navigating food insecurity. But my commitment to service doesn’t stop with community events, it lives in my future career. As a PMHNP, I plan to work in community-based mental health settings, particularly with underserved and marginalized populations. I want to provide trauma-informed, culturally sensitive care to people who have often been failed by traditional systems. I also hope to teach and mentor future nurses, especially those from first-generation and underrepresented backgrounds, to help shape a more compassionate and inclusive healthcare workforce. Priscilla Shireen Luke’s legacy of selflessness resonates deeply with me. Like her, I believe in using my time, energy, and voice to serve others.

My name is Kimberly Yee, and I’m a mother, a trauma survivor, and a doctoral student pursuing my Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP) degree at Duke University. My journey has not been linear, but it has been deeply rooted in resilience and purpose. I know firsthand how easily women’s voices can be dismissed, whether in classrooms, hospitals, or our own families, and I have made it my life’s work to listen, to advocate, and to uplift. As a first-generation Chinese American, I grew up in a home where mental health was never discussed. When I was sexually assaulted in college, I internalized the pain and shame, believing I had to carry it alone. I eventually dropped out of school, not because I lacked ambition, but because I was emotionally drowning and didn’t know how to ask for help. Later, as a single mother struggling with depression, I reached a breaking point. Surviving that moment became a turning point. I began therapy. I returned to school through community college. I rebuilt my life from the ground up, not just for my son, but for the version of myself who never felt seen. Today, I am proud to be earning my Doctor of Nursing Practice at the top-ranked program in the country for psychiatric-mental health nursing. But what matters most to me is how I plan to use this education. I want to build a career rooted in community-based mental health care, particularly for women who have been silenced, underserved, or stigmatized. I hope to create spaces where women can talk openly about trauma, motherhood, identity, and emotional pain, without fear of being minimized or judged. I also plan to use my voice to advocate for systemic change. I want to mentor young women entering healthcare, teach in community college settings, and ensure that future providers understand how gender bias, cultural stigma, and structural inequality impact the care women receive. I want to help dismantle the myth that women should carry pain quietly, and replace it with a new standard of compassionate, affirming care. Outside of the classroom and clinic, I live this mission through volunteer work. I’ve organized PTA events focused on digital safety and empowerment, helped run community fundraisers like Budget Bin to provide scholarships for students, and co-created a Trike & Bike ride that has raised over $50,000 for pediatric cancer research. I also volunteer at our local animal shelter and food bank, because I believe care should extend beyond the clinic and into the heart of the community. I plan to use my career not just to treat mental illness, but to help women heal in ways that honor their strength, their stories, and their worth. I am here today because someone gave me the chance to rise, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure other women get that same chance.

My relationship with mental illness is deeply personal; it has shaped who I am as a daughter, mother, survivor, and future mental health provider. I’ve experienced it from within, and I’ve watched it affect people I love. These experiences have left their mark on my heart, but they’ve also given me clarity about my purpose: to serve and support others who are navigating similar struggles. My first experience with mental illness was my own. In college, I survived a sexual assault that left me overwhelmed with shame and spiraling into a deep depression. I felt isolated, broken, and unsure how to move forward. I didn’t seek help at the time because I didn’t know how, and like so many others, I didn’t believe I was “sick enough” to deserve support. I ended up dropping out of school, not because I lacked ambition, but because I had lost my sense of worth. Later, as a young single mother, I experienced postpartum depression and anxiety that compounded the trauma I had never fully addressed. I was trying to rebuild my life for my child, but I was still struggling emotionally. Eventually, I reached a breaking point and attempted suicide. Surviving that moment was the catalyst for everything that came next. I started therapy. I slowly began to heal. And in that process, I discovered a calling: I wanted to help others the way I so desperately needed help myself. Mental illness has also impacted my family in quiet, enduring ways. I come from a household where mental health was never discussed. As a first-generation Chinese American, emotional struggles were often minimized or treated as personal weaknesses. I watched family members suffer in silence, too afraid or ashamed to name what they were feeling. That cultural stigma lingered for years, making it harder to reach out for help or even acknowledge pain. I now understand how generational silence around mental illness affects everyone, not just those living with the diagnosis, but those loving them through it. Today, I am earning my Doctor of Nursing Practice at Duke University, where I’m training to become a psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner. I’ve completed clinical rotations in child, adolescent, adult, and geriatric psychiatry, and I plan to work in community-based mental health, especially with underserved populations. My goal is to reduce stigma, improve access, and offer trauma-informed care that honors the dignity of every patient, because I know what it’s like to feel invisible. Mental illness has touched my life in painful ways, but it has also given me purpose. It’s shown me the strength in vulnerability, the necessity of compassion, and the urgency of systemic change. I carry that with me into every classroom, clinical setting, and conversation. If awarded the Elizabeth Schalk Memorial Scholarship, I will use that support to continue walking this path, not just for myself, but in honor of all those, like Elizabeth, who fought their battles with courage and grace, even when the world didn’t always understand.

As a future psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner (PMHNP), my commitment to supporting others with their mental health is both professional and deeply personal. I’ve spent the last several years helping others navigate emotional challenges by drawing from clinical training, lived experience, and a deep belief in the power of human connection. In my current role, I support patients across the lifespan in outpatient mental health settings, offering trauma-informed care grounded in empathy and evidence-based practice. I listen without judgment, create safe spaces for vulnerability, and advocate fiercely for those often overlooked, particularly BIPOC and underserved communities. I’ve also mentored nursing students, encouraging them to prioritize their own mental wellness and seek help when needed, reminding them that being a strong provider starts with caring for themselves. Outside of clinical work, I normalize mental health conversations in my community. I’ve helped organize digital safety and wellness events through my PTA, spoken openly about my journey as a survivor of trauma and depression, and supported family and friends through therapy referrals, crisis planning, and emotional check-ins. These small but meaningful actions help reduce stigma and model what it looks like to show up for one another. Through my DNP studies at Duke University, I am gaining the skills to diagnose, treat, and advocate for those struggling with mental illness. However, it is my lived experience that shapes how I will lead with compassion. I plan to continue building community-based care models, mentor future providers, and serve as a voice for those who still feel unseen. I am committed to changing the narrative around mental health; not just by treating symptoms, but by creating systems of support that foster healing, dignity, and hope.

I am worth the dreams I aspire to achieve because I’ve earned them through tears, through tenacity, and through a deep, unshakable calling to serve others. My dreams are not fleeting ambitions; they are sacred promises I’ve made to myself, to my children, and to every woman who has ever been told that her voice, her healing, or her leadership didn’t matter. As a survivor of sexual assault, a former single mother, and a first-generation college student, I’ve had to fight through silence, shame, and systemic obstacles to reclaim my story. I dropped out of college after my assault, believing for years that my future had ended before it began. But motherhood reignited something in me. I returned to school through community college with a baby on my hip and purpose in my heart. I earned my BSN and am now pursuing my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) at Duke University, the top program in the nation for psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioners. But what makes me worthy isn’t just academic achievement. It’s the way I’ve chosen to use my pain as fuel for purpose. I’m building a career in mental health to ensure that no one, especially women, ever feels as invisible or unworthy as I once did. I want to be the provider I needed in my darkest moments: present, compassionate, and unapologetically human. I also believe deeply in the power of service. I am an active volunteer in my community through my school’s PTA, where I’ve secured grants for digital safety events, coordinated fundraising efforts, and helped lead Budget Bin, a program that provides low-cost clothing for families while supporting scholarships for high school seniors. My family helped launch the Solon Trike & Bike fundraiser after seeing our son’s passion for pediatric cancer research. We’ve since raised over $50,000 for Cleveland Clinic Children’s Hospital. I’ve walked dogs at the Cuyahoga County Animal Shelter, rescued animals on the brink of euthanasia, and packed meals at the Cleveland Food Bank. Service is not something I do, it’s who I am. As a woman, I believe that my worth lies in my ability to rise and then reach back. The world doesn’t always make space for women like me, those who have been broken and rebuilt, who lead with both fire and softness, who carry the weight of their past while still standing tall in their purpose. But I am here. And I will keep showing up, not just for myself, but for the women I serve, the children I raise, and the communities I belong to. The dreams I hold are not small, and neither is my resolve. I am building a future rooted in healing, advocacy, and equity. I am worth this dream because I’ve walked through darkness to claim it, and I intend to light the way for others. With your support, I can keep going, not just for me, but for every woman who still needs permission to believe she’s worthy, too.

Life has tested me in more ways than I can count. I’ve survived trauma, navigated life as a single mother, and rebuilt my education after dropping out of college. But through every obstacle, I’ve learned that the measure of success isn’t found in the absence of struggle; it’s found in the determination to rise anyway. That’s the spirit I bring to everything I do, both in my personal life and in service to my community. After surviving a sexual assault in college, I fell into a deep depression that forced me to withdraw from school. I spent years believing I had lost my path. But becoming a mother shifted everything. I realized I needed to not only survive for my child, but I needed to thrive. I returned to school through community college, eventually earning my BSN, and am now completing my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) at Duke University, the top-ranked program in the country for psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioners. Every step forward has required resilience, sacrifice, and unshakable resolve, and I am proud of how far I’ve come. But my success isn’t just about personal growth; it’s also about how I lift others along the way. As an active member of our school’s PTA, I’ve dedicated countless hours to building community and supporting families. I’ve written and secured grants for educational events, including a digital safety program that helps families navigate technology and protect their children online. I’ve helped organize Budget Bin, a long-standing community fundraiser that offers gently used clothing at deeply discounted prices to families in need, while funding high school scholarships through its proceeds. It’s a true example of mutual aid in action: families helping families. One of the projects closest to my heart has been Solon Trike & Bike, a pediatric cancer fundraiser that my family helped create after watching our son’s passion and dedication for the cause grow year after year. Inspired by his commitment, we partnered with the Cleveland Clinic to bring a Trike & Bike ride to our city. To date, our local event has raised over $50,000 for pediatric cancer research. It’s taught not only our son, but an entire community of kids, how powerful they can be when they ride for a reason. I also volunteer at the Cuyahoga County Animal Shelter, where I walk and socialize dogs to increase their chances of being adopted. My family even rescued a dog from Kentucky just days before she was scheduled to be euthanized, an act of compassion that reminds me daily of the power of showing up when it matters most. In addition, I’ve served with the Cleveland Food Bank, helping distribute meals to families facing food insecurity. Resilience has taught me that hardship doesn’t have to close your heart; it can deepen your capacity for empathy. Whether I’m advocating for patients as a future nurse practitioner, organizing school initiatives, or giving a shelter dog a second chance, I lead with purpose and compassion.

Selflessness, to me, means stepping in when others can’t, and sometimes, when no one else will. It’s about offering your time, energy, and heart to help those in need, even when there’s nothing in it for you but the knowledge that you made a difference. While much of my work as a nurse and student involves caring for people, some of the most meaningful examples of selflessness in my life come from my work with animals, especially dogs who’ve been forgotten or left behind. A moment that will stay with me forever happened in Kentucky, when my family and I rescued Asher, a dog scheduled to be euthanized. She had run out of time in an overcrowded shelter, and no one had stepped up. We weren’t planning on adopting another dog, but something about Asher’s story struck us deeply. We knew we couldn’t save them all, but we could save her. We made the drive, brought him home, and gave him a second chance at life. It was a decision made with our hearts, not our convenience, as I was 7 months pregnant at the time. Asher’s story reminded me that selflessness often means choosing compassion over comfort. This same mindset drives my volunteer work at the Cuyahoga County Animal Shelter, where I help walk and socialize dogs and advocate for their adoption. I spend time with dogs who are often overlooked, older, shy, or misunderstood, and work to get them seen. I photograph them, share their stories online, and help them engage with potential adopters. These small, consistent efforts often make the difference between a kennel and a couch. It's work that goes unnoticed by most, but the impact on each life saved is immeasurable. These experiences outside of health care have deeply influenced how I show up as a nurse and future psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner. They’ve taught me patience, presence, and the value of small acts of service. Whether I’m supporting a trauma survivor in a clinic or helping a shelter dog find a home, my approach is the same: meet them where they are, advocate for what they need, and hold space for their healing. Selflessness isn’t about being a savior; it’s about being a steady presence when others are in crisis, forgotten, or unheard. It’s about showing up without fanfare, doing the work that needs to be done, and recognizing the humanity (or in some cases, the soul) in every life. From the patients I serve in mental health care to the dogs I walk at the shelter, I’ve learned that consistent, compassionate action, no matter how small, can ripple outward and change a life. And I plan to keep showing up, again and again, for those who need it most.

As a student, mother, and survivor, mental health is not just a topic I care about; it’s the foundation that allows me to show up fully in every area of my life. Without my own commitment to mental wellness, I would not be where I am today: pursuing my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) at Duke University to become a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner. I know firsthand that academic success is impossible without emotional and psychological support, especially for students carrying invisible burdens. My journey through higher education has been anything but linear. I dropped out of college after surviving a sexual assault and falling into a deep depression. Years later, I returned to school as a single mom, balancing work, parenting, and coursework while rebuilding my mental and emotional strength. What allowed me to succeed the second time wasn’t just grit; it was prioritizing therapy, finding support, practicing mindfulness, and refusing to treat mental health as secondary. That lesson has stayed with me. Today, as a DNP student, I continue to prioritize my mental health through daily habits like meditation, journaling, and exercise. I lift weights and attend group fitness classes not just to stay physically strong, but to care for my mental well-being. These routines keep me grounded during periods of stress, particularly as I juggle work, clinical rotations, doctoral coursework, and family life. But caring for my own mental health is only part of the picture. I’m deeply committed to advocating for mental health within my community, starting at home, extending to my children’s schools, and continuing into my clinical work. At home, I normalize conversations about feelings, boundaries, and therapy with my children. As a PTA volunteer, I help coordinate events that foster emotional awareness and digital safety for students and families. I believe that mental health literacy starts young, and parents, caregivers, and schools all play a vital role. In my academic and professional circles, I speak openly about my experiences with trauma, depression, and healing. I do this to reduce stigma and encourage my peers, especially fellow nursing students, to seek support when they need it. I’ve also mentored younger nursing students, emphasizing the importance of self-care and emotional regulation as tools for clinical success. We can’t care for others unless we are also caring for ourselves. During clinical rotations, I’ve had the opportunity to work in community mental health settings, including with Indigenous populations, where stigma and access barriers are particularly acute. I’ve seen how culturally responsive, trauma-informed care can transform lives, and how important it is for providers to advocate for system-wide changes that prioritize mental health access and equity. Mental health matters to me because I’ve lived through the consequences of neglecting it, and I’ve experienced the transformation that comes with honoring it. As a student and future mental health provider, I am committed to creating space for others to heal, grow, and thrive. By speaking up, showing up, and leading by example, I hope to continue building a culture, both in school and beyond, where mental health is treated as essential, not optional.

Every experience we carry, both the ones we celebrate and the ones we survive, shape who we become. For me, the most difficult parts of my journey are also the most defining. I am a survivor of sexual assault and a former single mother who fought her way back to school after dropping out. These experiences didn’t just lead me to healthcare, they gave me the insight, empathy, and resilience I now bring to my work as a registered nurse and future psychiatric mental health nurse practitioner. When I was sexually assaulted in college, I didn’t have the words or the support to process the trauma. I withdrew emotionally and academically. Overwhelmed by depression and shame, I eventually dropped out of school. A few years later, I became a single mother, navigating postpartum recovery, emotional wounds, and the daunting task of raising a child while trying to rebuild my life. There were moments I didn’t think I would make it through. What changed everything was the realization that I didn’t want to merely survive, I wanted to heal, grow, and create a life that felt meaningful. That healing journey brought me back to school through a local community college. I started in nursing, hoping for stability. What I found instead was a calling. Through my own recovery and return to education, I saw how critical it is for patients to feel seen, heard, and believed, especially those who are often dismissed or underserved. I chose to specialize in psychiatric-mental health nursing because I believe deeply in the power of presence and the need for trauma-informed care. Today, I am earning my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) at Duke University, the #1 program in the country for psychiatric nurse practitioners. My academic path was not linear, but every step has been shaped by lived experience, grit, and purpose. Because I have walked through darkness, I know how to sit with others in theirs. Because I’ve felt the stigma and shame around mental health and trauma, I know how to advocate fiercely for those who cannot yet advocate for themselves. I’ve worked in community-based clinics, including with Indigenous populations, and I am committed to serving people who are too often left out of traditional systems of care. I also hope to eventually teach, so I can help train the next generation of healthcare providers to lead with both clinical skill and compassion. These experiences; being a survivor, a mother, a student, a nurse, are not obstacles to my success in medicine; they are the foundation of it. They’ve made me strong, human, and deeply relevant to the work I’ve chosen. If awarded the RELEVANCE Scholarship, I will continue turning my past into purpose, and use it to shape a more compassionate and inclusive future in healthcare, one patient, one story, and one act of care at a time.

A turning point in my life came when I made the decision to prioritize my mental health after surviving a sexual assault in college. At the time, I was overwhelmed by shame, silence, and untreated depression. I eventually withdrew from school and tried to push through life while carrying an invisible burden. The pain became too much, and I attempted suicide, a moment that marked rock bottom, but also the beginning of my healing. Surviving that experience forced me to confront a difficult truth: I couldn’t keep living in survival mode. I had to choose healing, even if it was messy and nonlinear. I began therapy and learned to name my trauma. I started practicing mindfulness and setting emotional boundaries. But one of the most surprising and transformative pieces of my recovery came through movement, specifically, lifting weights and attending group fitness classes. Strength training helped me reconnect with my body after trauma had left me feeling detached from it. Each time I picked up a barbell, I felt stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. Group fitness gave me structure, accountability, and a sense of belonging. It was the first time in years that I felt joy in movement and pride in progress. These habits became essential tools for managing stress, rebuilding confidence, and staying grounded. Prioritizing my mental and physical health didn’t just help me survive, it gave me a new sense of self. It taught me that resilience isn’t about pushing through pain alone, it’s about investing in your well-being, asking for help, and finding what helps you feel whole. That shift in perspective redefined my future. I returned to school through a local community college, juggling parenting and part-time work with a renewed sense of purpose. I went on to earn my BSN and am now completing my Doctor of Nursing Practice at Duke University, the #1 program in the country for psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioners. Along the way, I’ve continued to prioritize my mental wellness, including therapy, mindfulness, and movement. Today, I bring this lived experience into every aspect of my work. As a future PMHNP, I plan to integrate holistic approaches like exercise, mindfulness, and trauma-informed care into my clinical practice. I want to show patients, especially those from marginalized communities, that healing can take many forms, and that they deserve access to care that sees them as whole people. Making my mental and emotional health a priority didn’t just save my life, it shaped the kind of provider, parent, and person I strive to be. And that commitment to self-care continues to guide how I prepare for the future, with strength, intention, and hope.

As a future psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner, my unique contribution to mental health care lies in my ability to connect clinical training with lived experience and a deep commitment to underserved populations. I currently work in community-based mental health and have had the privilege of serving Indigenous communities, where I’ve witnessed firsthand the profound impact of culturally attuned care in areas with limited access. My goal is to expand this work by opening a nonprofit clinic that offers affordable, trauma-informed mental health services tailored to the needs of marginalized and underrepresented groups. The clinic would integrate traditional psychiatric care with complementary practices like mindfulness, peer support, and nutritional counseling; delivered through both in-person and telehealth models. Services would be low-cost or grant-funded, with outreach efforts embedded in schools, shelters, and community centers. I also plan to mentor future providers from diverse backgrounds and advocate for policies that make mental health care more inclusive and accessible. By meeting people where they are: physically, emotionally, and culturally, I hope to help build a future where no one is turned away from mental health care because of cost, geography, or stigma.

1. Tell us about yourself. My name is Kimberly Yee, and I’m a mother, nurse, mental health advocate, and proud first-generation Chinese American. I’m currently pursuing my Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) at Duke University to become a Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP). My life has been shaped by resilience, by falling down, getting back up, and carving a path forward even when the odds felt stacked against me. I care deeply about making mental health care accessible, culturally competent, and rooted in compassion. Having personally survived trauma, depression, and a suicide attempt, I know how isolating and misunderstood emotional suffering can be. It’s why I show up every day with a mission to be the kind of provider I once needed; someone who listens, advocates, and never gives up on people. I am also a mother of two and a volunteer in both my local PTA and animal shelter. My identity is multifaceted, but everything I do is grounded in service and community. I’ve learned that healing happens in connection, and I hope to use my education, voice, and lived experience to help others find that connection too. 2. What’s a real-world issue you feel deeply connected to, and why? The issue I feel most connected to is the unmet mental health needs within marginalized communities, particularly among BIPOC and immigrant populations. As a first-generation Chinese American, I grew up in a household where mental health was never discussed. Emotional struggles were often minimized, and therapy was seen as something “other people” did. As I grew older, and especially after surviving sexual assault and depression, I realized just how much stigma and silence were costing us. Mental health is a universal human experience, yet many communities of color still lack access to culturally responsive care. Language barriers, mistrust of the system, and lack of representation only widen these gaps. This issue matters to me because I’ve lived it. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, to suffer in silence, and to not know where to turn. But I also know the power of healing when care is trauma-informed, affirming, and accessible. That’s what I want to bring into the world. 3. If you had the power to make change in that area, what would you do? If I had the power, I would reimagine mental health care as community-rooted, culturally affirming, and proactive, not just reactive. I would build mental health programs within schools, community centers, and faith-based organizations in underserved neighborhoods. These programs would be led by diverse clinicians who reflect the communities they serve and would integrate talk therapy, mindfulness, nutrition, and social support. I would also advocate for policy changes that expand access to mental health care, especially for immigrants, refugees, and the uninsured. That includes increasing federal funding for safety-net clinics, loan forgiveness programs for psychiatric providers, and mental health training for primary care teams. Finally, I would normalize mental health conversations through storytelling. I believe in the power of sharing lived experiences to reduce stigma. If we create more spaces where people can say “me too,” we can build a world where no one suffers in silence. 4. How did you choose your area of study, and what do you hope to do with it? My journey into psychiatric nursing was born out of personal healing. After surviving trauma and struggling with untreated mental health challenges, I returned to school through a local community college. I originally chose nursing for its stability and purpose, but once I began working in the cardiovascular ICU, I couldn’t ignore how often patients' emotional needs went unmet. During COVID-19, families were kept out of hospitals, and patients died alone. I saw profound grief and fear, and I felt helpless without the tools to address it. That’s when I knew I needed to pursue psychiatric nursing. I wanted to be someone who could hold space for others in their darkest moments. I’m now at Duke University, pursuing a DNP to become a PMHNP. My goal is to work in community mental health, serve underserved populations, and eventually teach at the college level. I want to change lives through care, and help train the next generation of nurses to lead with both knowledge and heart. 5. What’s one goal you’ve set for yourself in the next 5 years—and how do you plan to get there? Within the next five years, I plan to open a culturally inclusive outpatient mental health clinic that offers both traditional psychiatric services and integrative care; including mindfulness, peer support, and trauma-informed yoga. I envision it as a safe space for individuals who don’t see themselves in mainstream mental health care. To achieve this, I’m focused on building clinical experience during my DNP program, particularly in underserved settings. I’m also connecting with mentors in both psychiatry and health policy to understand the business and legislative sides of health care. In the meantime, I’ll continue volunteering, learning from diverse populations, and seeking out continuing education in areas like nutritional psychiatry and somatic therapies. I want my practice to be evidence-based and deeply human. 6. How has education helped you better understand yourself and your purpose? Education gave me a second chance, and then it gave me purpose. Returning to community college as a single mom was humbling, but it reminded me of what I was capable of. It also introduced me to professors who believed in me before I believed in myself. As I moved through my nursing degrees, I began to see how my past, once something I wanted to forget, could be transformed into something meaningful. I wasn’t just learning clinical skills; I was learning how to channel empathy, advocacy, and lived experience into real-world impact. At Duke, I’ve grown intellectually and emotionally. I’ve realized that my purpose is not just to provide care, but to challenge the systems that prevent people from accessing it. Education has helped me reclaim my story, and now I use it to help others reclaim theirs. 7. How has your identity as a woman influenced the way you move through the world? Being a woman, especially a woman of color, has shaped how I advocate, how I lead, and how I care. As a nurse, I’ve had to fight to be heard in rooms where decisions were made without understanding the full context of patients’ lives. As a student and mother, I’ve balanced late-night studying with early morning lunches and bedtime stories. And as a trauma survivor, I’ve had to navigate systems that weren’t designed to protect women like me. But being a woman has also taught me the power of persistence and community. It’s taught me how to lift others up, how to listen deeply, and how to lead with compassion. I am proud to be part of a generation of women who are changing health care from the inside out. 8. What does leadership mean to you—and how have you embodied it? To me, leadership means showing up with integrity, even when no one’s watching. It means creating space for others, especially those whose voices are often left out. I’ve embodied leadership by mentoring nursing students, organizing mental health awareness events, and volunteering with the PTA at my children’s school. I’ve also advocated for patient-centered care in clinical settings and spoken openly about my own mental health journey to reduce stigma. Leadership isn’t about titles, it’s about how you treat people, how you respond in crisis, and how you uplift your community. I strive to lead through service and example. 9. Describe a time you had to be resourceful or resilient. What did you learn from it? After my sexual assault, I dropped out of college and spent years feeling broken. Becoming a single mother forced me to be resilient in ways I never imagined. I returned to school through community college, often studying while rocking a baby to sleep. I worked part-time, applied for every scholarship I could find, and leaned on public resources like WIC and childcare subsidies to make ends meet. What I learned is that resilience isn’t about always being strong, it’s about continuing, even when it’s hard. It’s about asking for help, accepting imperfection, and believing that your future can look different from your past. 10. If awarded this scholarship, how would it help you pursue your dreams? This scholarship would be life-changing. It would allow me to continue my doctoral education at Duke without the fear of having to pause due to financial uncertainty, especially given the current political climate and growing concerns about the future of student loan programs. Beyond financial support, this scholarship would affirm that my journey matters, that survivors, mothers, first-generation students, and community college graduates belong in spaces like this. With this support, I could focus on clinical excellence, continue serving my community, and lay the groundwork for the inclusive mental health clinic I plan to open.

My path to becoming a nurse and now a doctoral student has been anything but easy. I didn’t take the traditional four-year route. I’ve faced personal trauma, academic setbacks, and financial barriers, but I’ve also fought for every step forward. And today, I’m proud to say that I attend Duke University, the #1-ranked school in the country for Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner programs. I’ve made it farther than I ever thought possible, and this scholarship could be what allows me to finish what I started. I began my college journey over a twenty years ago, full of potential and hope. But like many young women, I experienced something that changed everything: I was sexually assaulted. The trauma left me depressed, lost, and overwhelmed. I eventually dropped out of school, not because I didn’t care, but because I couldn’t keep going. I carried that shame and pain in silence for years. Becoming a single mother only made the path forward more complex. But my child gave me a reason to rebuild. That rebuilding started at a community college. I returned to school with no idea how I would juggle parenting, work, and classes, but I knew I had to try. Slowly, I found myself again through nursing. I earned my associate’s degree, then my BSN, and eventually found my way to psychiatric-mental health nursing, where I discovered a true calling. My lived experience with trauma and mental health gave me the empathy to show up for patients in a way few textbooks can teach. I knew I wanted to do more. So I applied to Duke. I didn’t think I’d get in, but I did, and now I’m enrolled in one of the most competitive PMHNP programs in the country. I’m learning from the best in the field, gaining skills in psychotherapy, psychopharmacology, and community-based mental health. I’ve completed clinical rotations with children, adolescents, adults, and elders across diverse populations, including Indigenous communities, rural mental health clinics, and outpatient psychiatry. I’m not just preparing to be a nurse practitioner. I’m preparing to lead, to teach, and to advocate. But none of this comes without cost. I work hard to manage tuition, childcare, and daily expenses. I’ve taken out student loans to get this far, but with rising political uncertainty surrounding student debt, I’m concerned about my ability to finish my doctorate. If funding disappears, or becomes inaccessible for graduate students, I’m not sure how I’ll afford to continue. That’s why this scholarship matters. It would not just relieve a financial burden, it would ensure that I can keep moving forward in a field I’m passionate about. It would allow me to focus more energy on my clinical training, community service, and my long-term goals. I plan to work in community mental health, particularly with underserved and BIPOC populations. I also hope to teach part-time at the community college level, returning to the very setting that gave me a second chance. I want to help other nontraditional students believe that they, too, can make it. What gives me an advantage isn’t that I’m perfect on paper. It’s that I’ve lived through the things many patients are struggling with: trauma, stigma, hopelessness, and the feeling of being counted out. I’ve navigated academic systems as a first-generation student, a woman of color, a mother, and a survivor. I know how to listen with compassion because I’ve needed that compassion myself. I believe this makes me a better nurse, a better future provider, and ultimately, a stronger advocate for mental health. I don’t take my education for granted. I am proud of what I’ve overcome, but I also recognize that I cannot do this alone. Your support through this scholarship would not just fund a degree it would help launch a provider who is committed to healing, equity, and service. Thank you for considering my application. I hope to pay it forward in every patient I care for, every student I teach, and every community I serve.

Mental health is not just a professional interest for me, it is personal, deeply woven into my life story. Years before I ever considered becoming a psychiatric nurse practitioner, I was a young woman trying to survive trauma I didn’t yet have the language to name. After experiencing a sexual assault during college, I was overwhelmed by shame, isolation, and emotional pain that felt impossible to carry. I didn’t know how to ask for help, and I didn’t believe I deserved it. In the months that followed, I spiraled into a deep depression that culminated in a suicide attempt. Surviving that moment changed everything. It didn’t solve the pain, but it cracked open a small space for hope. I realized that if I was still here, maybe there was a reason. That single thread of hope led me, slowly and painfully, toward healing. I started therapy. I found peer support. I began rebuilding my life piece by piece, and in the process, I discovered a calling to help others navigate their own mental health journeys. My suicide attempt is not something I hide or feel ashamed of anymore. It is part of my story, and it is what gives me the empathy and insight I bring to my work today. As a registered nurse and current Psychiatric-Mental Health Nurse Practitioner (PMHNP) student, I know what it’s like to sit in silence, to feel invisible, to be dismissed by a system that too often fails survivors. I also know the transformative power of being truly heard, and that’s the kind of provider I strive to be. My lived experience with mental health challenges informs every aspect of my career. It pushes me to approach each patient with humility, compassion, and a deep respect for their unique story. It’s why I speak openly about trauma, depression, and suicide in professional and community settings to help reduce stigma and remind people that recovery is possible, even when it doesn’t feel that way. I also believe that healing is not linear and that our identities and lived experiences matter in how we access care. While my own path has been shaped by trauma and survival, it has also been strengthened by community, including LGBTQIA+ friends and chosen family who supported me when I couldn’t support myself. Their visibility, strength, and advocacy inspired me to show up more fully in the world and to be a better ally and provider for queer and trans patients navigating similar struggles with mental health, trauma, and identity. After I graduate, I plan to work in community mental health, serving people who, like me, may have once believed they were beyond help. I also hope to teach future nurses and advocate for trauma-informed, culturally responsive psychiatric care. My goal is to help others not just survive, but heal, and to create spaces where no one feels alone in their pain. I am not defined by my suicide attempt, but I am forever shaped by it. It reminded me of the value of being here. It gave me a reason to stay, and now, a reason to serve.

My relationship with Buddhism has been a quiet but steady anchor throughout my life. As a first-generation Chinese American, I was raised with Buddhist values woven into everyday life—offered not through formal religious doctrine, but through the way my elders approached hardship, kindness, and impermanence. Over time, what began as cultural familiarity evolved into a personal spiritual path—especially during the most difficult periods of my life. As a survivor of trauma and someone who has navigated depression and anxiety, I found deep refuge in Buddhist teachings. During a time when I felt most lost, the principle of impermanence helped me remember that pain, no matter how heavy, is not forever. Meditation became a lifeline—a way to observe my emotions with less fear, to find moments of stillness in chaos, and to soften the inner critic that had taken root. Even now, as a busy graduate student, I maintain a daily meditation practice, even if it's just for a few minutes each morning. It grounds me before I step into the clinic, helping me show up for my patients with presence and clarity. What I value most about Buddhism is that it encourages openness. Rather than holding a rigid worldview, it invites us to seek connection and understanding across differences. That spirit of openness has led me to explore other spiritual and religious traditions—attending services in Christian churches with friends, visiting mosques, learning about Indigenous healing practices during clinical experiences in Native communities, and studying mindfulness from secular perspectives. These experiences haven’t pulled me away from Buddhism; they’ve enriched my understanding of compassion, healing, and what it means to be of service to others. In each tradition, I’ve found wisdom and practices that deepen my capacity to care. These values profoundly shape my work as a psychiatric nurse and future nurse practitioner. In mental health care, it’s not enough to treat symptoms, we must meet people with compassion, cultural humility, and a deep respect for the complexity of their lives. My Buddhist practice reminds me to be fully present with each patient, to listen deeply, and to offer care without judgment. I draw on mindfulness not just for myself, but to help patients explore it as a tool for their own healing. When I graduate, I hope to work in community mental health, particularly with underserved and culturally diverse populations. I want to be a provider who sees patients not just as a diagnosis, but as whole people with spiritual, emotional, and cultural identities that deserve to be honored. I also plan to give back through teaching, guiding future nurses to care with both clinical skill and emotional intelligence. In many ways, Buddhism gave me the foundation to rebuild my life with intention. It helped me transform suffering into service. It taught me that healing is not just about removing pain, but about cultivating presence, compassion, and connection. As I move forward in this path, I carry that faith not just as a belief, but as a daily practice, in how I show up for myself, for my patients, and for the communities I hope to serve.

For a long time, I didn’t believe I would ever be where I am today, working toward becoming a psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner at Duke University and finally feeling like I’m living a life rooted in purpose. My journey into nursing wasn’t linear. It began not in a classroom or clinical setting, but in the quiet, painful aftermath of a traumatic event that derailed my sense of safety, identity, and direction. During college, I survived a sexual assault that shattered my mental health and interrupted my education. I struggled silently for years, unable to name or seek help for what I was experiencing; depression, anxiety, and dissociation that made daily life feel impossible. I dropped out of school, not because I lacked ambition, but because I couldn’t see a future for myself. In time, I became a single mother. I was navigating deep emotional wounds while trying to show up every day for my child. It was during this season of my life, overwhelmed, exhausted, and unsure of how to move forward, that I felt something shift. I realized I needed to reclaim my life not only for my child, but for myself. I enrolled in nursing school with the initial goal of finding a stable, meaningful career. What I found instead was a calling. Nursing became the first space where I saw my past not as something to be ashamed of, but as something that gave me insight, empathy, and grit. I understood what it meant to be vulnerable, to be dismissed, to feel invisible in the health care system. I also knew how healing it was to be truly seen. My own mental health journey helped me recognize that emotional pain can be just as life-threatening as physical illness, and it deserves just as much care. As I worked through school, my clinical experiences confirmed that psychiatric nursing was where I belonged. I found meaning in sitting with patients in their darkest moments, helping them feel heard, and providing tools for recovery. I believe deeply that healing happens in connection with providers who listen without judgment and advocate fiercely for their patients. I strive to be that provider. Today, I am married with two children and continuing my education to become a psychiatric-mental health nurse practitioner. I’ve worked in the cardiovascular ICU, volunteered in my community and local animal shelter, and remained involved in my children’s school through the PTA. But what grounds me most is the opportunity to support others on their path to healing. If awarded this scholarship, I will continue building a career that centers compassion, equity, and mental health advocacy. I hope to work with underserved populations, help reduce stigma, and one day teach future nurses how to lead with both skill and heart. My past has shaped me, but it no longer defines me. Nursing does.