I wear a lot of hats: Mother, Daughter, Wife, Small Business Owner, and soon, Graduate Student. When people describe the “Sandwich Generation,” they are talking about me. My father moved in with us just before my mother died in 2015. My twins were three years old. There are days when my juggling act includes the needs of my children, my father, my husband, my clients, and occasionally, myself. The multitasking required to cook dinner while simultaneously emailing a client, booking an orthodontist appointment, and answering the question my father is shouting from downstairs is no small feat. I have learned to wear all of the hats, even though it often means my hair is a mess. At the time of my mother's death, I was considering an MS in Counseling program similar to the one that I am currently in, but it quickly became clear that it was not the right time to choose me when there were so many others with big needs. I knew they had to take precedence. My mother’s passing also clarified for me the importance of prioritizing my relationships with my children, which were only just forming in those early years of their lives. Death has a way of putting life in perspective. I will never regret being patient and focusing first on the needs of my children. The reality, though, is that Kira (that’s me) has been on the back burner for a very long time. We moms almost always are. My twins are thirteen now and spending a lot more time with their friends (I like to joke that I moonlight as an unpaid Uber driver – five stars please). As they become increasingly independent, I feel ready to choose myself for the first time in a long time. It is now with a renewed focus that I am pursuing an MS in Counseling, hoping to specialize in working with mothers: new mothers, motherless mothers (like me), and mothers struggling with postpartum depression. I believe this is a demographic that is grossly underserved and overlooked. Far too many women slip through the cracks in their first year of motherhood due to the societal expectation that women should come to motherhood “naturally” and be capable of “having it all.” I dream of building an online therapy practice, where women can prioritize their mental health without a commute or the need for childcare. A place where women can, just for an hour, put on their own hat and choose themselves. I also believe that by supporting this demographic I will not only be able to help the mothers themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. Going back to school at forty-three is daunting. Funding my degree feels overwhelming. Taking on a full-time program means cutting back on my current work and income. It is not lost on me that I must first ask for help on this journey to be able to help other mothers on theirs. Awarding me this scholarship would enable me to pay forward the support that I will be receiving. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in Ms. Jackson's name that acknowledges the challenge of being a non-traditional student. If chosen, I hope to honor her memory with the work I do both in my Master's program and beyond.

My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, one Polish and one Romanian, who met in a German displaced persons camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months after they married. Her family then emigrated to Canada after the war and lived on a small farm a few hours outside of Toronto. She grew up with nothing. When I was small, she would mention in passing that she had one doll as a child and that, eventually, one of her younger brothers destroyed it. Her parents never spoke directly about their time in concentration camps, but it was always there, bubbling under their lives, shaping her childhood. My grandparents never received mental health support and, thus, passed their trauma down to their children. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing. I believe that my mother’s mental health was always precarious due to her childhood, but I know it was exacerbated by the postpartum depression that came with having me. I was born in Canada during a blizzard, and I'm confident that for my mother, that blizzard never passed. She did not receive the support she needed to move through her postpartum depression, and it ultimately became a life-long battle with wounds and scars that never healed. I became a mother to twins in 2011. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU, I also found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood and already felt like a failure. Unlike my mother and her mother before her, I was fortunate enough to receive the therapy I needed, and my depression passed. While the families of Holocaust survivors and the mothers and children of postpartum depression may seem completely different, research shows that families in both these groups suffer intergenerational trauma. My own experience with postpartum depression fueled a passion for helping new mothers for the past decade. I have spent that time advocating for parenting support and postpartum support with the hope of creating positive change within this demographic. I trained as a HypnoBirthing instructor to help prevent the birth trauma experienced by many women, which can lead to postpartum mood disorders. Several years later, I trained as a doula with a specialty certification in birth trauma. I also co-created the HypnoMothering training program which was designed to help women experience a smooth transition into motherhood. Finally, in 2019 I launched a parenting podcast called Raising Adults: Future Focused Parenting designed to help take families from surviving to thriving. I am pursuing a graduate degree in counseling to gain the necessary skills to walk with these women on their path in deeper and more meaningful ways than I could before. I hope to support and nurture mothers in the ways I wish my own mother had been nurtured. A degree in counseling will allow me to achieve licensure and build a fully online practice where women can prioritize their mental health without a commute or the need for childcare. I also believe that by supporting this demographic, we not only help the mothers themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, turning generational trauma into generational healing. L'dor V'dor. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in Ilya's name, honoring the incredible female, Jewish immigrants seeking higher education so that they might contribute to the betterment of our world.

My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a displaced persons camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months later. Her parents never spoke directly about their time in concentration camps, but it was always there, bubbling under their lives, shaping her childhood. My grandparents never received mental health support and thus, passed their trauma down to their children. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing. I believe that my mother’s mental health was always precarious due to her upbringing, but I know it was exacerbated by the postpartum depression that came with having me. She never received the support she needed to move through the depression, and it ultimately became a life-long battle with wounds and scars that never healed. I became a mother to twins in 2011. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU, I also found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood, and already I felt like a failure. Unlike my mother and her mother before her, I was fortunate enough to receive the therapy I needed, and my depression passed. This experience fueled a passion for helping new mothers in myriad ways. I trained as a HypnoBirthing instructor to help prevent the birth trauma experienced by many women, which can lead to postpartum mood disorders. Several years later, I trained as a doula with a specialty certification in birth trauma. I also co-created the HypnoMothering training program which was designed to help women experience a smooth transition into motherhood. Finally, in 2019 I launched a parenting podcast called Raising Adults: Future Focused Parenting designed to help take families from surviving to thriving. I am pursuing a graduate degree in counseling to gain the necessary skills to walk with these women on their path in deeper and more meaningful ways than I could before. I hope to support and nurture mothers in the ways I wish my own mother had been nurtured. A degree in counseling will allow me to achieve licensure and build a fully online practice where women can prioritize their mental health without a commute or the need for childcare, and, just for an hour, choose themselves. I also believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the mothers themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, turning generational trauma into generational healing. Going back to school at forty-three is daunting. Funding my degree feels overwhelming. Taking on a full-time program means cutting back on my current work and income. It is not lost on me that I must first ask for help on this journey to be able to help other mothers on theirs. Awarding me this scholarship would enable me to pay forward the support that I will be receiving. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in Mr. Bryan's name that acknowledges the challenge of being a middle-aged student. If chosen, I hope to honor his memory with the work I do both in my Master's program and beyond.

I wear a lot of hats: Mother, Daughter, Wife, Small Business Owner, and soon, Graduate Student. When people describe the “Sandwich Generation,” they are talking about me. My father moved in with us just before my mother died in 2015. My twins were three years old. There are days when my juggling act includes the needs of my children, my father, my husband, my clients, and occasionally, myself. The multitasking required to cook dinner while simultaneously emailing a client, booking an orthodontist appointment, and answering the question my father is shouting from downstairs is no small feat. I have learned to wear all of the hats, even though it often means my hair is a mess. At the time of my mother's death, I was considering an MS in Counseling program similar to the one that I will be starting in the Fall, but it quickly became clear that it was not the right time to choose me when there were so many others with big needs. I knew they had to take precedence. My mother’s passing also clarified for me the importance of prioritizing my relationships with my children, which were only just forming in those early years of their lives. Death has a way of putting life in perspective. I will never regret being patient and focusing first on the needs of my children. The reality, though, is that Kira (that’s me) has been on the back burner for a very long time. We moms almost always are. My twins are thirteen now and spending a lot more time with their friends (I like to joke that I moonlight as an unpaid Uber driver – five stars please). As they become increasingly independent, I feel ready to choose myself for the first time in a long time. It is now with a renewed focus that I am pursuing an MS in Counseling, hoping to specialize in working with mothers: new mothers, motherless mothers (like me), and mothers struggling with postpartum depression. I believe this is a demographic that is grossly underserved and overlooked. Far too many women slip through the cracks in their first year of motherhood due to the societal expectation that women should come to motherhood “naturally” and be capable of “having it all.” I dream of building an online therapy practice, where women can prioritize their mental health without a commute or the need for childcare. A place where women can, just for an hour, put on their own hat and choose themselves. I also believe that by supporting this demographic I will not only be able to help the mothers themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. Going back to school at forty-three is daunting. Funding my degree feels overwhelming. Taking on a full-time program means cutting back on my current work and income. It is not lost on me that I must first ask for help on this journey to be able to help other mothers on theirs. Awarding me this scholarship would enable me to pay forward the support that I will be receiving. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in Mr. Pulling's name that acknowledges the challenge of being a non-traditional student. If chosen, I hope to honor his memory with the work I do both in my Master's program and beyond.

My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a displaced persons camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months later. Her parents never spoke about their time in concentration camps, but it was always there, bubbling under their lives, shaping her childhood. As is the case with many descendants of Holocaust survivors, my mother grew up in a complicated household. Her parents never received the mental health support they needed to process their experiences and inevitably passed their trauma down to their children. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing and only in adulthood have I begun to ask myself how it may have shaped my mother's life, my life, and the lives of my children. My mother and all her siblings struggled with mental health throughout their lives. My daughter has an OCD diagnosis (a common issue for descendants of Holocaust survivors) and anxiety runs rampant through all of us. I believe that my mother’s mental health was always precarious due to her upbringing, but I know that it was exacerbated by the postpartum depression that came with having me. She didn't receive the support she needed to move through the depression, and it ultimately became a life-long battle with wounds and scars that never healed. I also struggled with postpartum depression as I transitioned into motherhood with my twins and this fueled a passion for helping parents, particularly postpartum women, a group that I believe is grossly overlooked. Too many women slip through the cracks in their first year of motherhood. While the families of Holocaust survivors and the mothers and children of postpartum depression may seem completely different, research shows that families in both these groups suffer intergenerational trauma. Helping women overcome that trauma has been my passion for the past decade. I have spent that time advocating for parenting support and postpartum support with the hope of creating positive change within this demographic. I trained as a HypnoBirthing instructor to help prevent the birth trauma experienced by many women, which can lead to postpartum mood disorders. Several years later, I trained as a doula with a specialty certification in birth trauma, again to further my understanding and ability to support the women I was working with in my practice. I also co-created the HypnoMothering training program which was designed to help women experience a smooth transition into motherhood. My co-creator and I led trainings for HypnoMothering practitioners all over the world. Finally, in 2019 I launched a parenting podcast called Raising Adults: Future Focused Parenting designed to help take families from surviving to thriving. I am pursuing a graduate degree in counseling to gain the necessary skills to walk with these women on their path in deeper and more meaningful ways than I could before. I hope to support and nurture mothers in the ways I wish my own mother had been nurtured. A degree in counseling will allow me to achieve licensure and build a fully online practice. My dream is for women to have a space where they can receive support without leaving their nursing chair or seeking out childcare. I believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the parents themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, turning generational trauma into generational healing. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in honor of Ms. Schalk. If chosen, I hope to pay forward the support that I will be receiving and be part of honoring her memory.

Email dated Aug 17, 2019: "Hi Kira, I love your podcast and this week’s episode had me in tears. Not only did it make me look at doing things differently with my kids, but it also made me reflect back on my childhood, the things I was taught, and the model I want and need to be for my children...." This is one of many emails I received while co-hosting the podcast Raising Adults: Future Focused Parenting. In 2011 I became a mother to twins. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU I found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and ashamed. This experience fueled a passion for helping new parents in myriad ways, including the podcast which ran for five seasons. Recording the show, and receiving emails like this one, was some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. I felt like I was making a difference, not only to these individuals but to mental health in parenting as a whole. One of our episodes focused on emotional intelligence. As a practicing hypnotherapist, I developed a framework called the 3Ns™ which I shared in this episode. The first N is for Name It: give the child vocabulary to express their feelings. “You seem disappointed that we can’t watch tv.” The second N is for Normalize It: validate their feelings. “That makes sense to me. I feel disappointed sometimes too.” The final N is for Nurture It: help the child process the feeling. “When I'm disappointed it helps me to do something comforting. Would you like to read a story?” The goal is that as children grow, they become able to do these 3Ns for themselves. The feedback on this episode was phenomenal. So many listeners shared how it helped them parent with and teach emotional intelligence. For me, the podcast was always centered around mental health support for parents and children, as our family of origin sets the tone for our emotional intelligence and mental health. For this reason, I am pursuing a graduate degree in Counseling. I dream of building an online practice, where parents can prioritize their mental health without a commute or need for childcare. In supporting parents, we not only help their mental health, but also their children's, creating a cycle of healing for generations to come.

I come from a group of individuals who can seldom choose themselves. I’m a daughter to an aging father who lives with me, a wife to a wonderful man named David, and, above all else, a mother of twins. The word “mother” in our modern world means many things, the biggest of which is sacrifice. Mothers carry the most expectations on their shoulders and receive the least amount of support. We are expected to “have it all” and “want it all” which is not only a toxic narrative, but combined with a lack of mental health support, it creates generations of women who struggle with depression, anxiety, and more. My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a displaced persons camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months later. Her parents never spoke directly about their time in concentration camps, but it was always there, bubbling under their lives, shaping her childhood. My grandparents never received mental health support and thus, passed their trauma down to their children. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing. I believe that my mother’s mental health was always precarious due to her upbringing, but I know it was exacerbated by the postpartum depression that came with having me. She never received the support she needed to move through the depression, and it ultimately became a life-long battle with wounds and scars that never healed. I became a mother in 2011. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU, I also found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood, and already I felt like a failure. Unlike my mother and her mother before her, I was fortunate enough to receive the therapy I needed, and my depression passed. However, just as I was coming out of this dark time, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She died two years later. My children were toddlers and so far, motherhood had been an incredibly rough road. At the time of my mother's death, I was considering a graduate program similar to the one that I will be starting in the Fall, but it quickly became clear that there were so many other needs that needed to take precedence, particularly those of my children. I will never regret being patient and focusing on them first. The reality, though, is that I have been on the back burner for a very long time. We moms almost always are. My twins are thirteen now and spending a lot more time with their friends (I like to joke that I moonlight as an unpaid Uber driver – five stars please). As they become more and more independent, I feel ready to choose me for the first time in a long time. It is now with a renewed focus that I am pursuing a Master of Science in Counseling, hoping to specialize in working with mothers: new mothers, motherless mothers (like me), and mothers struggling with postpartum depression who feel lost, alone, and even ashamed. I dream of building an online therapy practice, where women can prioritize their mental health without a commute or the need for childcare, and, just for an hour, choose themselves. I also believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the mothers themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, turning generational trauma into generational healing.

Memorandum To: All From: Motherless Moms™ HQ Subject: Kira Dorrian Retirement Announcement Date: December 19, 2051 We here at Motherless Moms™ wish to congratulate our founder and fearless leader, Kira Dorrian, on this day of her retirement. Kira’s dedication to the mental health care of new mothers and motherless mothers has been the cornerstone of her career. Kira is the only child of a mother who struggled with mental health. The first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a refugee camp and married ten days later, Kira’s mother, Elys, was born in that same camp nine months after they married. As is the case with so many descendants of Holocaust survivors, Elys grew up in a complicated household. Generational trauma was the silent backdrop of both Elys and Kira’s upbringing and only in her early forties did Kira begin to ask herself how it may have shaped her mother’s life, her life, and the lives of her children. In 2011, Kira herself became a mother to twins. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU, she found herself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with her own mental health before, Kira felt completely lost, alone, and, if she was honest, ashamed. She was only a few weeks into motherhood and she already felt like a failure. This experience fueled a passion for helping new mothers in myriad ways, including training to become a birth doula, HypnoBirthing Educator, as well as co-creating the HypnoMothering program and co-hosting a parenting podcast. However, too often she was frustrated that she lacked the tools to go beyond her scope of practice. In 2024, at the age of forty-three, Kira decided to pursue a Master of Science in Counseling at Rocky Mountain University of Healthcare Professionals. We know that she credits her ability to do so with the scholarships she felt incredibly blessed to receive, particularly as at that time she was a part of the “sandwich generation” with two children and her father depending on her. In particular, receiving a $3,000 award in honor of Richard and Rebecca Whiddon was essential in funding her first semester of school. Over the years Kira often explained that her work is, in part, done to honor the beautiful legacies of the people whose scholarships helped her along the way. Kira's dream was to build an online therapy practice focused on supporting new mothers. This way, women could have a space to process without leaving their nursing chair or seeking out childcare. She firmly believed that by supporting this demographic she could not only help the women themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health would benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. Alongside the work of helping new mothers, Kira also wanted to support motherless moms, like her, who shared a unique parenting experience. And so, in 2026, Motherless Moms™ was born. As Kira retires, she leaves behind a beautiful legacy. Motherless Moms™ continues to support women through individual therapy, support groups, workshops, and an award-winning podcast. Kira also founded the Elys Brewda Counseling Center at a local university in Washington—a space dedicated to supporting postpartum women. Join us in congratulating Kira on her retirement! We wish her a beautiful next chapter and thank her for being a small part of turning generational trauma into generational healing.

I am the only child of a mother who struggled with her mental health and ultimately died far too young. My entire life I watched my mother be devoured by the myriad broken systems in our country, including mental, physical, and emotional health support. Watching her navigate her mental health was challenging for me as a child and, sadly, only now that she has passed, have I begun to unpack what it must have been like for her to be in this world. My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a refugee camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months after they married. As is the case with so many descendants of Holocaust survivors, my mother grew up in a complicated household. Her parents were never given the mental health support they needed and thus, inevitably passed their trauma down to their children. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing and only now have I begun to ask myself how it may have shaped my life, my relationships, and the lives of my children. I believe that my mother’s mental health had always been precarious due to her upbringing, but I know that it was exacerbated by the postpartum depression that came with having me. She never received the support she needed at that time to move through the depression, and it ultimately became a life-long battle with wounds and scars that never healed. Moving through my own experience with postpartum depression coupled with finally having clarity around my mother's mental health struggles has led me to pursue a graduate degree as a mental health counselor with a focus on postpartum women. My goal is to have a fully online practice that allows women to get the support they need without having to leave their nursing chair. I hope to nurture these women in the ways I wish my own mother had been nurtured. I wish to walk with them on their path as they transition into motherhood and unpack their own experiences. Alongside the work of supporting new mothers, I hope to also work with motherless moms, like me, who are raising their children without the support of their mother by their side. I have so many questions I wish I could ask my mom and so many feelings and thoughts that I wish I could share. The presence of her absence is overwhelming, and I know that many women feel this way as they navigate motherhood alone. I also believe that by supporting these demographics we not only help the women themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. I truly believe that mental health support starts in utero and that reaching parents first is the key to creating the emotional healing our world so desperately needs. However, as a middle-aged woman, I find myself experiencing the realities of being in the "sandwich" generation. I have twelve-year-old twins and an aging father who lives with us. Scholarships will prove central to my ability to achieve my academic and personal goals. Every penny I can garner will make it more feasible to pursue my degree as a woman in healthcare, with a focus on helping other women. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship that honors the importance of mental health.

Email from a podcast listener dated Aug 17, 2019: Hi Kira, I love your podcast and this week’s episode had me in tears. Not only did it make me look at doing things differently with my kids, but it also made me reflect back on my own childhood, the things I was taught, and the model I want and need to be for my children. I realized that sometimes you have to do things that make you uncomfortable. Sometimes you have to be brave with your kids, for your kids, to model the appropriate behavior and to give them the reassurance and confidence to speak up for themselves in the future. So, thank you for your wonderful podcast. It reminds me (of) the importance of being patient with my kids. It reminds me to be thoughtful and intentional with my actions in the way I parent them and the people I want them to grow up to be. - B.B. This email is one of many I received while I was co-hosting the podcast Raising Adults: Future Focused Parenting. The show was born (pardon the pun) from years of working with new and expectant parents and a deep desire to support this important demographic. In 2011 I became a mother to twins. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU I found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood, and already I felt like a failure. This experience fueled a passion for helping new parents in myriad ways, including co-creating the HypnoMothering program in 2012 which is now offered all over the world. In 2019 my podcast launched, and I know that we touched many lives during the five seasons we were on air. Recording the podcast, and receiving emails like the one above, was some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. It felt magical to know that parents felt seen and supported by the conversations we had on the show. It made my heart full to know that I had been helpful on their parenting journey. That they felt a little less alone because of me. My aim for the podcast was always centered around mental health support for parents and children. I am passionate about supporting new and expectant parents because I believe that reaching parents first helps to prevent mental health issues for our children later down the line. For these reasons and so many more, I am pursuing a Master of Science in Counseling to achieve licensure and continue to do the work I feel so called to do in deeper and more meaningful ways than ever before. My dream is to build an online therapy practice focused on supporting new parents. This way, they can have a space to process without leaving their nursing chairs or seeking out childcare. I wish to continue to be a leader in the parenting space. I truly believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the parents themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. Thank you for your consideration and for creating this scholarship to support female leaders!

My mother died of cancer in 2015. I was thirty-four years old with three-year old twins at home. I worked in mental health at the time and found myself keenly aware of the myriad needs that would crop up through the process of losing my mother. There were my own mental health needs and the desire to find space to process my feelings in the midst of trying to work and raise twins. There would be the needs of my children, who were close with her and would be left with a scar that they would never remember getting. And there were the needs of my father, who lives with us, and would be mourning the loss of his best friend. Somehow, all of those needs fell squarely on my shoulders. The word "resilient" became a buzzword right around this time. People kept telling me that kids are "resilient" and mine would be fine. I was also referred to as "resilient." It infuriated me. People were throwing around this word, minimizing my impending loss with my human ability to survive it. True resilience is about moving through something, not getting over it. Grief is a beautiful example of what it means to be resilient. In grief we are never looking to get over our loss, but instead we hope to one day move through it and learn to hold it. Much can get in the way of moving through our feelings. Too often we suppress them with distraction or unhealthy coping mechanisms like drugs or alcohol. But when we truly create space for those feelings, enough room to feel them, to process them, to hold them close and then begin to let them shift and change....this is true resilience. This is moving through grief. And THIS is what I was fighting for as my mother passed away. I called in the experts. I found a therapist for myself and for my children. I reached out to a local program that helps children navigate death and provides support and resources. I posted regularly on Facebook asking for support as and when we needed it. I swallowed my modern pride knowing that I simply could not do this alone. I took three weeks off of work when she died, telling myself that these three weeks were for me to feel my feelings. I was prepared. But those feelings didn't come. Instead, I was numb. I spent those three weeks in a haze and when they were over, I learned the most valuable lesson of all: you cannot plan for loss. You cannot control grief. All you can do is move through it, with a gentle patience for yourself and the process. True resilience in grief means buckling up your seatbelt and throwing your arms in the air as you ride the ride. There were days after she died that I was fine. And there were days I was not. I fell apart in unexpected places: the greeting card aisle as my eyes glanced over the "For Mom" section, the doctor's office where I had to tick the "Mother, deceased" box for the very first time, a workout class where the substitute instructor looked just like my Mom. I learned over those first months that every feeling I felt was exactly the right feeling for that moment and deserved to be welcomed as part of the process of moving through. And we did move through. Nine year later we are healthy and happy. We miss her, we think of her, and some years (like this one) her anniversary hits harder than others for some inexplicable reason. Maybe because I know she would be extremely proud to see me returning to school at the age of forty-three. At the time of her death, I was considering a graduate program similar to the one that I will be starting in the Fall. I have fought these past nine years to return to this place, a space where I can say that I am ready. It is now with a renewed focus that I am pursuing a Master of Science in Counseling in the hopes of working with women like me, motherless mothers. Women who are raising children without their own mothers by their side. Her death inspired me as I moved through the roller coaster to see that on the other side is purpose, and passion and possibility. So now, instead of fighting for myself, I fight for other women who are walking this path. I fight to be with them on their own resilient journey of moving through.

"We are all connected, to each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically." - Neil deGrasse Tyson My son was eight years old when he asked me, "Mama, do you think that it is worse for a fish to be caught and released than it is for the fish to die?" I took a long swig of my coffee. It was seven o'clock in the morning and far too early for my almost forty-year-old brain to think about this. Stalling, I replied, "Are you asking me if the residual trauma from thinking it will die is harder on the fish than simply dying?" He nodded and looked at me, waiting for my answer, waiting for his mother to explain this small part of the universe to him. I have spent the entirety of motherhood trying to help my children make sense of the world around them. I have sought to help them separate the parts they can control from the ones they cannot. I have taught them how to recognize opportunities to learn and grow and sat with them in the moments that seem to make no sense, where all I have to offer them is love. "I really don't know buddy," I told my brilliant boy. "It's a great question. What do you think?" I'm an Agnostic Jew, which means I have spent my whole life trying to make sense of the universe. As a descendant of Holocaust survivors, I was raised on the parable of the three Rabbis in Auschwitz who put G-d on trial, found him guilty, and then got down on their knees and prayed. I was taught the messy, grey, complexity of the universe. Judaism teaches us to question, to try and understand, and to accept that we never will. It is exhausting. Especially now as a mother, I ache to make it all make sense for my children. My heart is heavy each time I start a sentence with, "There's something I need to share with you...." There was a shooting at an elementary school today. Most of our family was killed in the Holocaust. For safety, your father and I think we should take the mezuzah off of our door. "But why Mama?" they always ask. Why would someone shoot up a school? Why would people kill us just because we are Jewish? Why Mama? Why? Why? Why? Far too many questions I cannot answer. Instead, I have focused on helping them try to understand themselves, their humanity, and the humanity of those around them. In a universe that often makes no sense, this is a piece of the puzzle where they might find some clarity. For example, in our home there are no "Good Guys" or "Bad Guys." Instead, we get curious about what might have happened to The Joker in his childhood. How were his needs not met to lead him to behave the way that he does? How can we hold compassion and justice together in one hand? Years of working in the mental health world helped me to develop this skillset and I have endeavored to pass it on to my children. I see it working. I hear my daughter complain about a friend's behavior and in the same breath remind me that her friend is having a hard time at home and is probably not her best self right now. I hear my Jewish son and his Iranian best friend quietly discuss the heartbreak in Gaza with such love, kindness, and commitment to their friendship. In a broken universe, I see their fierce desire to be a small part of its healing. I am pursuing a Master of Science in Counseling because I believe that understanding humanity is the key to making sense of the universe, or at least making sense of our human experience within it. I contend that we achieve this by focusing our attention on two things: family of origin and emotional intelligence. I am deeply curious about how our family of origin impacts us individually, as well as our children and future generations. My grandparents met and married in a displaced persons camp right after being released from concentration camps. My mother was born in that same DP camp nine months later. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing and only now have I begun to ask myself how it may have shaped my life, my relationships, and the lives of my children. By becoming a therapist, I hope to help future clients understand their stories so that they can heal any trauma therein and be intentional as they create a healthy family of origin for their children. As an advocate for raising emotionally intelligent children, I am committed to giving parents the tools they need to unpack their own experiences whilst simultaneously raising mentally and emotionally healthy children. By teaching the next generation to understand their emotions, healthily express them, and develop the skills necessary to understand and hold space for the emotions of others, we can turn generational trauma into generational healing. We can help future generations make sense of their human experience in the universe. My dream is to open an online private practice that focuses on supporting new parents, particularly mothers, as they transition into parenthood and beyond. This way, with the click of a button, they can receive support without having to leave their nursing chair or arrange childcare. Together, we will explore and unpack their family of origin and build the emotional intelligence skills needed to help them help the next generation understand themselves, each other, and their interconnectedness within the universe. Through compassion, emotional intelligence, and the understanding of our own stories we can create a universe where humans help more than hurt. And maybe, just maybe, where we have answers to more of our wide-eyed children's questions.

First, let me begin by giving you my definition of resilience, for that is a word we love to throw around but often misuse. Resilience, for me, means moving through something, not getting over it. Grief is a beautiful example of what it means to be resilient. In grief we are never looking to get over our loss, but instead we hope to one day move through it. Much can get in the way of moving through our feelings. Too often we suppress them with distraction or unhealthy coping mechanisms like drugs or alcohol. But when we truly create space for those feelings, enough room to feel them, to process them, to hold them close and then begin to let them shift and change....this is true resilience. This is moving through grief. My mother died of Ovarian Cancer in 2015. I was thirty-four years old with three-year old twins at home. I worked in mental health at the time and found myself keenly aware of the myriad needs that would crop up through the process of losing my mother. There were my own mental health needs and the desire to find space to process my feelings in the midst of trying to work and raise twins. There would be the needs of my children, who were close with her and would be left with a scar that they would never remember getting. And there were the needs of my father, who lives with us, and would be mourning the loss of his best friend. Somehow, all of those needs fell squarely on my shoulders. I called in the experts. I found a therapist for myself and for my children. I reached out to a local program who helps children navigate death and provided support and resources. I posted regularly on facebook asking for support as and when we needed it. I swallowed my modern pride knowing that I simply could not do this alone. I took three weeks off of work when she died, telling myself that these three weeks were for me to feel my feelings. I was prepared. But those feelings didn't come. Instead, I was numb. I spent those three weeks in a haze and when they were over, I learned the most valuable lesson of all: you cannot plan for loss. You cannot control grief. All you can do is move through it, with a gentle patience for yourself and the process. True resilience in grief means buckling up your seatbelt and throwing your arms in the air as you ride the ride. There were days after she died that I was fine. And there were days I was not. I learned over those first months that every feeling I felt was exactly the right feeling for that moment and deserved to be welcomed as part of the process of moving through. At the time of my mother's death I was considering a graduate program similar to the one that I will be starting in the Fall. It is now with a renewed focus that I wish to pursue my graduate degree, in the hopes of working with women like me. I hope to counsel and walk with motherless mothers: women who are raising children without their own mothers by their side. Her death inspired me as I moved through the roller coaster to see that on the other side is purpose, and passion and possibility. Thank you for considering me for this scholarship in Mr. Watabe's name. I hope that my graduate degree will enable me to leave a similar impact on my community.

"Inventing Anna" showed up in my Netflix feed just when I needed it most. In February of 2022 my family and I flew to London to visit my husband's family. It is a trip we used to make yearly but, due to the pandemic, one that we had not made in almost three years. My husband needed to hug his parents and my children needed to see their grandparents. A few months before we flew out, the Omicron variant hit and I became wary about making the trip. This was during the years where if you contracted Covid-19 whilst abroad you were grounded until you had made a full recovery. We were going to have to test to fly home. My husband insisted that this trip needed to happen and that we would take every precaution imaginable while we were there. We masked for the entire ten-hour flight, avoiding food and drink until we were safely outside. We asked his family to quarantine for a week before we arrived. We explained that we would not be eating anywhere indoors and would require masks for everyone anytime we ventured out of the house. Suffice it to say, we did everything we could to stay safe. Sadly, they did not. When we arrived, it became clear that two of my husband's family members were sick. A few days later, I tested positive for Covid and the next day my son did as well. We were quarantined together in a double bed for the next five days, unsure if we were going to test negative in time to fly home. I was devastated. My worst fears were coming true, and I was stuck in a tiny room unable to even go in the backyard per UK rules at that time. My son and I took to binge watching shows and movies and it was on my second day of quarantine, when I was truly losing my mind, that "Inventing Anna" showed up on my Netflix feed. What followed was three days of watching this wild story unfold. A story so much wilder than my current situation, and one that took me out of the tiny room and into a world of glamour and beauty and fraud. I was entirely absorbed, completely fascinated by both the story the show was telling and Julia Garner's performance. The show is so well shot, capturing the opulence of the world that Anna Delvy lied her way into. When you watch, part of you wants to be a part of it all, until you remember that you would have to check your morals at the door. This, too, was one of my favorite parts of the show. It made me question my own morals. Who would I be if I had a little more moral ambiguity, if I was a little less concerned about others? How far would I go to get what I want if I was braver or more self-serving? And who do you have to be and how do you have to view the world to be able to accomplish the incredible con that Anna Delvy pulled off for so long? These thoughts kept me occupied during one of the most challenging weeks of my life and I will be forever grateful for the distraction and relief the show provided me while I waited to see if I could fly home. Thankfully, we both tested negative the morning of our flight. My only sadness was that I had nothing to watch on the way home. I had finished "Inventing Anna" the night before.

Bear with me for a moment as I first explain the two major life events which provided my motivation for a graduate degree in mental health counseling. In 2011 I became a mother to twins. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU I found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood, and I already felt like a failure. Through a lot of therapy, support and love, the depression slowly passed. However, just as I was coming out of this dark time, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She died two years later. My children were toddlers and so far, motherhood had been an incredibly rough road. Growing up my mother had often shared that she, too, struggled with postpartum depression, something that I believe transitioned into clinical depression and never truly passed. Watching her navigate her mental health was challenging for me as a child and, sadly, only now that she has passed, have I begun to unpack what it must have been like for her to be in this world. My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a refugee camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months after they married. As is the case with so many descendants of Holocaust survivors, my mother grew up in a complicated household. Her parents were warm and loving, but very strict and controlling, especially as she was the first-born and the only girl. Despite this upbringing and the myriad ways I would later realize it impacted her, she raised me entirely differently. I was taught to be free with my feelings, vocal about my needs and opinions and encouraged to be independent and empowered as a female. I cannot fathom what it must have been like for her to watch her daughter receive the kind of unconditional love and emotional freedom she longed for as a child. And yet, she gave me all of this with her whole heart. Moving through my own experience with depression coupled with finally having clarity around my mother's mental health struggles has led me to pursue a graduate degree as a mental health counselor. I hope to support and nurture mothers in the ways I wish my own mother had been nurtured. I wish to walk with them on their path as they transition into motherhood and unpack their own experiences. I also believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the parents themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. As an advocate for raising emotionally intelligent children, I am committed to giving parents the tools they need to unpack their own experiences whilst simultaneously raising mentally and emotionally healthy children. I truly believe that mental health support starts in utero and that reaching parents first is the key to creating the emotional healing our world so desperately needs. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in your mother's name that supports the important work of mental health and aims to destigmatize the struggle so many of us face.

In 2015 my mother died from Ovarian Cancer. I was thirty-four with three-year-old twins at home. My mother was the first-born to two Holocaust survivors, who met in a refugee camp and married ten days later. She was born in that same camp nine months after they married. Much like Sara, my mother's family emigrated to Canada after the war and lived on a small farm a few hours outside of Toronto. She grew up with nothing. When I was small, she would mention in passing that she had one doll growing up and that eventually one of her younger brothers destroyed it. Despite being raised in poverty, my mother became educated to the point of receiving a graduate degree when I was ten years old. She ended up running her own company and travelling around the world to educate managers in effective communication and customer service skills. As is the case with so many descendants of Holocaust survivors, my mother grew up in a complicated household. Her parents were warm and loving, but very strict and controlling, especially as she was the first-born and the only girl. Despite this upbringing and the myriad ways I would later realize it impacted her, she raised me entirely differently. I was taught to be free with my feelings, vocal about my needs and opinions and encouraged to be independent and empowered as a female. I cannot fathom what it must have been like for her to watch her daughter receive the kind of unconditional love and emotional freedom she longed for as a child. And yet, she gave me all of this with her whole heart. At the time of her death, I was considering a graduate program similar to the one that I will be starting in the Fall. Her death derailed me in so many ways. However, it is now with a renewed focus that I wish to pursue my graduate degree, in the hopes of working with women like me. I hope to counsel and walk with motherless mothers: women who are raising children without their own mothers by their side. I am incredibly grateful to my mother for giving me the tools to be an emotionally intelligent woman who is capable of creating space and holding compassion for the women I wish to serve in the future. I often wish she could see the legacy she created by giving me all of the things she didn't get. It is my greatest hope to pass those gifts on to the next generation and generations to come. L'dor V'dor. Thank you for your consideration and for creating a scholarship in Sara's name, honoring the incredible, resilient Jewish women in our world.

Two major life events have provided my motivation for a graduate degree in counseling. In 2011 I became a mother to twins. After a difficult birth and weeks in the NICU I found myself with an intense case of postpartum depression. Having never struggled with my mental health before, I felt completely lost, alone, and, if I'm honest, ashamed. I was only a few weeks into motherhood, and I already felt like a failure. Through a lot of therapy, support and love, the depression slowly passed. However, just as I was coming out of this dark time, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She died two years later. My children were toddlers and so far, motherhood had been an incredibly rough road. These experiences fueled a passion for helping new parents and parentless parents in myriad ways, using my background as a hypnotherapist. This included co-creating the HypnoMothering program and co-hosting a parenting podcast. Often though, I was frustrated that I lacked the tools and license to go beyond my scope of practice. I am pursuing a graduate degree so that I can gain the skills necessary to truly walk with these parents on their path. A degree in counseling will allow me to ultimately achieve licensure and build an online practice. This way, women can have a space to process without leaving their nursing chair or seeking out childcare. Licensure will enable me to do the work I feel called to do in far more effective ways than I could before. I also believe that by supporting this demographic we not only help the parents themselves but make it far more likely that their own children’s mental health will benefit, creating a cycle of healing for this generation and for the ones to come. As the descendant of Holocaust survivors on my mother’s side, I am deeply curious about how our family of origin impacts us individually, as well as our children and future generations. My grandparents met and married in a refugee camp and my mother was born in that same camp nine months later. Generational trauma has been the silent backdrop of my upbringing and only now have I begun to ask myself how it may have shaped my life, my relationships and the lives of my children. By returning to school, I hope to also gain valuable insight into my own family of origin story, enabling me to help my future clients understand their stories and be part of helping them heal any trauma therein. In my hypnotherapy practice I often helped people look to the past to understand their present so that they could be in charge of their future. I believe that this concentration track will give me new tools and strategies for my own growth and the growth of the parents I aim to serve. However, at the age of forty-three I find myself experiencing the realities of being in the "sandwich" generation. I have twelve-year-old twins, and an aging father who lives with us. Though my husband makes a good living, it is not enough to cover the enormous costs of graduate school. Scholarships will prove central to my ability to achieve my academic and personal goals. Every penny I can garner will make it more feasible to pursue my degree while continuing to prioritize my family and professional obligations. Thank you for your consideration and for offering a scholarship in Ms. Jackson's name which honors the unique demographic that I find myself in: over forty, with kids and headed back to school!