My decision to pursue a career in mental health is deeply rooted in my lived experiences and the years I spent working as a domestic violence and sexual assault crisis counselor. For five years, I walked alongside survivors during some of the most painful and vulnerable chapters of their lives. I witnessed firsthand how trauma affects not only the mind, but the body, relationships, and sense of self. These experiences didn’t just strengthen my desire to enter the mental health field, they also shaped the kind of provider I hope to become. I want to be a therapist who creates safety, honors each person’s story, and recognizes the strength it takes to seek help. My own life experiences, combined with the privilege of supporting survivors, have taught me that healing is not linear and that empowerment, compassion, and cultural humility are essential to effective care. I hope to become a therapist who meets clients where they are, who listens without rushing to diagnosis, and who prioritizes trauma-informed, client-centered support. If I could make one significant change in today’s mental healthcare system, it would be to expand access to affordable, culturally responsive care in underserved communities. Too many people, especially in the area where I live, avoid or delay seeking help because services are financially unreachable, difficult to access, or not offered by providers who understand their lived experiences. I believe that mental health care should not be a privilege reserved for those who can afford high out-of-pocket costs or who live in major metropolitan areas. Expanding funding for community-based clinics, increasing insurance coverage for long-term therapy, and building a more diverse mental health workforce would create a system that reflects the populations it serves. Equity in care begins with representation and affordability, and without both, the mental health system will continue to leave the most vulnerable behind. Teletherapy has emerged as one of the most important innovations in modern mental health care, offering convenience, flexibility, and increased access especially for people in rural areas like mine, individuals with disabilities, single parents, or clients who struggle with transportation. For many, teletherapy provides a sense of safety that allows them to speak openly from the comfort of their own space. Yet despite these benefits, teletherapy has limitations. Not all clients have reliable internet, private environments, or familiarity with technology. Some therapeutic approaches rely heavily on in-person rapport, body language, or specialized interventions that are harder to replicate online. Additionally, teletherapy can feel impersonal for individuals who thrive on face-to-face connection. To better serve diverse communities, innovation must focus on bridging the digital divide, enhancing platform accessibility, and integrating hybrid models of care. This could include offering low-bandwidth options, expanding teletherapy through community centers, and providing technology support for clients who need it. Platforms should also be designed with cultural inclusivity in mind by featuring multilingual options, accessibility tools, and interfaces that support individuals with various disabilities. Ultimately, my lived experiences, my years supporting survivors, and my commitment to equity guide the provider I hope to become: a therapist who brings empathy, understanding, and advocacy to every session, whether in person or through a screen.

I am currently pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice, a field that allows me to turn my commitment to fairness, accountability, and community well-being into a meaningful career. My studies have helped me understand the complexities of the legal system, the impact of crime on individuals and communities, and the importance of justice that is both effective and ethical. Courses in criminology, criminal law, and investigative procedures have strengthened my ability to think critically, analyze information, and understand the role of due process. Every class reinforces why I chose this path- to be part of a system that protects the vulnerable, upholds the law, and ensures that truth is never overshadowed by circumstance. Pursuing my degree as a single parent has required resilience, sacrifice, and a level of determination I didn’t know I possessed. Balancing parenting, school, and work is like trying to manage three full-time jobs at once. There have been semesters when I studied late into the night after putting my son and daughter to bed, mornings when I woke up before dawn to finish assignments, and days when unexpected challenges like childcare issues, financial strain, and even illness have forced me to find strength I didn’t think I had. There is no safety net when you are both the sole provider and the sole source of comfort, stability, and structure for a child. These obstacles have not discouraged me, they have sharpened my focus. Every hurdle reminds me why I keep pressing on. I intend to build a future where my children can see what perseverance looks like and understand that barriers do not stop us, no matter what. Once I complete my degree, my goal is to continue my education and eventually begin my career as a Special Prosecutor. I am driven by a desire to serve the public, protect victims, and ensure that justice is applied with integrity. As a Special Prosecutor, I hope to take on complex and sensitive cases, particularly those involving vulnerable populations or situations where impartiality is crucial. I want to be a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves and an advocate for fairness when the stakes are highest. Professionally, this career path will allow me to combine my academic training with my commitment to ethical decision-making and community safety. Personally, earning this degree represents more than career growth. It represents breaking generational cycles, building financial stability, and showing my child that their future is not limited by our circumstances. My long-term goal is to give back by mentoring other nontraditional students and single parents who are working to rebuild their lives through education. I know what it feels like to start from a place of disadvantage, and I want to use my journey to remind others that their dreams are possible. Completing my Criminal Justice degree is the foundation of the life I’m building for my children and I. A life that is firmly rooted in strength, shaped by adversity, and guided by a passion for justice that I intend to carry into my career as a Special Prosecutor.

I come from a background where stability was never guaranteed, but dreams were something I held onto tightly. Growing up with financial hardship and at one point experiencing homelessness, taught me how quickly life can unravel and how strong you must become to rebuild it. There were nights when “home” was a relative term, when I had to focus more on surviving the week than imagining the future. Those experiences shaped my determination. They taught me that while I may have come from a place of disadvantage, I am not defined by it. Today, I am building my future step by step through school, through work, and through community involvement with my local Park District and Girl Scouts. I involve myself where I can, whether it’s supporting local initiatives or stepping in when someone needs an extra hand. I know what it feels like to have no safety net, so I try to be one for others when possible. Personally, I want to build a stable, healthy life for my children. A life where I never have to worry about where we're sleeping or how the next bill will get paid. Professionally, I want a career that allows me to grow, help others, and break the generational cycle of instability that shaped my childhood. This scholarship isn’t just financial support, it’s momentum. It is the difference between surviving and progressing. It would allow me to focus on my education without sacrificing essentials or stretching myself thin. It would give me the freedom to dream bigger, the confidence to keep going, and the ability to turn the hardest parts of my past into the strongest parts of my future. With your support, I can continue rewriting my story one determined step at a time.

To me, Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect is far more than a phrase associated with the EDM and rave community. It represents a philosophy, a way of approaching both people and experiences with openness, compassion, and acceptance. PLUR is a reminder that everyone deserves to feel safe, valued, and free to express who they truly are. Even outside of music festivals or creative spaces, these values shape how I choose to live, how I treat others, and the kind of energy I hope to bring into every community I join. Peace, for me, begins internally. Life can be chaotic and unpredictable, but I’ve learned that creating peace within myself through mindfulness, gratitude, or simply pausing before reacting, allows me to create peace around me. I try to approach conflict calmly, listen before responding, and see situations with empathy rather than judgment. Whether among friends, family, classmates, or coworkers, I try to be someone who brings stability rather than stress, someone others can rely on for a sense of calm. Love, in the context of PLUR, is not romantic; it is unconditional positive regard. It’s about seeing people’s humanity, even when they are different from me. I show this through kindness, small acts of generosity, and supporting people when they need it most. Love shows up in the way I check on friends who are struggling, how I help new people feel welcome, and how I choose compassion over criticism. It means giving without expecting anything back. Unity is the belief that we are stronger together than we ever could be alone. In the rave community, unity shows up on dance floors where thousands of people move in harmony regardless of background, identity, or experience. In my everyday life, I embody this by fostering collaboration and connection. I make an effort to bring people together. Unity means celebrating differences while focusing on shared goals and shared joy. Respect is the foundation that holds PLUR together. Respect means recognizing each person’s dignity, boundaries, and individuality. I show respect by listening attentively, honoring people’s pronouns and identities, and understanding that everyone has their own struggles and stories. It also means respecting myself by knowing when to step back, rest, and protect my own well-being so I can continue to show up for others in a positive way. I embody PLUR by striving to be a person who uplifts others, chooses kindness, and creates welcoming spaces. Whether I am at a festival, at work, in school, or within my community, I try to model the acceptance and openness that PLUR encourages. I believe every person deserves to feel included and valued, and I work to make that a reality by being mindful of how my actions affect those around me. PLUR isn’t just a motto, it’s a mindset that shapes how I navigate the world. By living with peace, offering love, fostering unity, and showing respect, I hope to contribute to communities that feel safe, supportive, and joyful for everyone involved.

Growing up in a single-parent household has shaped me in ways that continue to influence where I am today and where I hope to go in the future. My family structure has never been traditional, but it has always been grounded in resilience, love, and determination. Being raised by a single mother meant that our home functioned as a team. My mother trusted me to take on responsibilities that many people do not face until adulthood. While this brought challenges, it also instilled in me an inner strength and a sense of purpose that guide my educational and career goals. From a young age, I became aware of the sacrifices my mom made to keep our family stable. Balancing work, finances, household needs, and emotional support for children is never simple, and doing it alone requires a level of endurance most people never witness firsthand. I watched my mom navigate long workdays, financial stress, and difficult decisions while still finding time to show up for me in whatever way she could. Her perseverance became my example. It taught me the value of hard work, the importance of compassion, and the belief that dignity is something you hold onto even when circumstances are overwhelming. Living with a single parent meant I learned responsibility early. I helped keep things stable at home by cooking, cleaning, and doing tasks that needed to be done so my mom could focus on keeping us financially afloat. There were moments when money was tight and opportunities felt out of reach. Because of this, I became resourceful, realistic, and determined to create a different kind of future for myself. School became my sanctuary and my path forward. I pushed myself academically because I understood that education isn’t just a goal; it’s a doorway to stability, independence, and mobility. The financial strains, limited support systems, and the emotional weight of watching one parent shoulder it all have not discouraged me. Instead, they shaped my perspective on the kind of impact I want to make through my education. I want to use what I learn to lift others the way my mom lifted me. Whether through a career in healthcare, community work, administrative support, or a field that allows me to serve and advocate for people, I want my education to have meaning beyond my own success. I hope to make a difference by helping people who face the same barriers I experienced. Growing up, I often recognized families struggling silently. These families like mine, who were doing everything right but still barely getting by. My goal is to use my education to support individuals and communities who need someone willing to listen, to advocate, and to help navigate complicated systems. I want to be part of creating environments where people feel seen, supported, and empowered, especially in the complicated mess that is the judicial system. Education gives me the tools to do that. It provides the knowledge, structure, and opportunities necessary to transform hardship into purpose. Every class I take, every skill I learn, and every step I make toward my career is motivated by the desire to build a life where I not only succeed, but also contribute. Growing up in a single-parent home taught me resilience, empathy, and responsibility. These qualities are now the foundation of my goals. With the support to continue my education, I plan to take the strength I gained from my challenges and use it to make a meaningful, lasting difference in the world.

My experience with sepsis is one of the most defining events of my life, reshaping not only how I understand illness but also how I understand myself. Before it happened, I viewed serious medical conditions as something distant. These conditions were obviously important, but not something that would ever unfold in my own life. That changed abruptly when what seemed like a routine illness escalated into a life-threatening emergency. Sepsis is often described as the body’s extreme response to infection, but living through it is much more complicated than a definition. It begins subtly, almost quietly, and then it overtakes you before you fully realize what is happening. At first, I didn’t recognize the signs. I simply felt unusually exhausted, feverish, and confused. I kept telling myself it was just a bad cold and that it would pass. But the symptoms intensified quickly. All of a sudden, my heart raced, my breathing felt shallow, and even small movements became overwhelming. By the time I reached medical care, I was in a state where everything felt like it was slipping out of my control. I remember bits and pieces: bright hospital lights, rapid voices, the cold fear of not knowing whether I would fully recover. Sepsis is frightening because it steals time; everything becomes a blur between one moment and the next. What I didn’t realize then was that survival would come with its own challenges. Recovery from sepsis is not a straight path. Physically, my body felt weaker, as if it had aged decades overnight. Tasks that once felt simple now required more effort. But the emotional impact was just as significant. There is a vulnerability that settles in after facing such a threat. You develop an awareness of how quickly life can change. Yet, that awareness also brought a new sense of purpose. Instead of living passively, I began paying attention to my health and advocating more confidently for myself and others. My experience with sepsis also gave me a deeper appreciation for medical professionals. The team that cared for me wasn’t just treating an illness; they were guiding me through one of the most frightening moments of my life. Their expertise and compassion shaped my recovery, and they continue to influence how I view the importance of accessible, high-quality healthcare. I learned how critical it is for people to recognize the early signs of sepsis and seek help immediately, because timing truly means everything. Today, I carry both the scars and the strength that came from that experience. Sepsis taught me resilience, patience, and gratitude. It pushed me to educate myself, to take nothing for granted, and to use my experience to help raise awareness for something many people still know too little about. While I would never wish this illness on anyone, I can say that surviving it has made me more grounded and more determined to move forward with intention and hope.

Growing up as the child of a parent with ALS has shaped nearly every part of who I am. It has molded how I see responsibility, what I value, and the way I approach my education. ALS doesn’t just change one person’s life; it reshapes the entire family. When my parent began losing strength and mobility, I learned quickly that childhood can turn into caretaking without warning. I spent evenings helping with basic tasks, adapting the house to new equipment, and learning how to communicate patiently through frustration, fear, and fatigue. Watching someone you love lose abilities day by day creates a different kind of self. You become rooted in compassion, vigilance, and resilience. Those experiences deeply influenced my educational journey. I learned early on how to balance school with responsibilities at home, and I developed a strong internal drive to make every opportunity count. There were days when exhaustion made studying difficult, or when the emotional weight of my parent’s illness made it hard to focus. But I learned to work through those challenges, and that persistence became one of my greatest strengths. Instead of discouraging me, my circumstances made me even more committed to pursuing an education that would allow me to build a stable future for myself and contribute meaningfully to others. Financially, ALS placed significant strain on our household. Medical equipment, home modifications, and caregiving needs quickly became expensive, and those costs only continue to grow over time. As a result, saving for college or maintaining financial stability has always been difficult. Even now, the financial impact continues to shape the decisions I make about my education, from choosing programs carefully to worrying about taking on too much student debt. I work to cover what I can, but tuition, books, transportation, and living expenses create a burden that is hard to carry alone. This scholarship would relieve part of that burden and allow me to focus more fully on my academic and career goals. Instead of juggling additional hours at work, picking up side gigs with DoorDash or putting off important coursework to manage finances, I could invest my energy into building the future I’ve worked so hard for. It would give me the opportunity to commit fully to my studies, seek out opportunities like internships or certifications, and continue building a path toward a stable career where I can support myself and my family. Growing up with a parent battling ALS taught me strength, empathy, and determination. It taught me that life can change with no warning, and that education is one of the few tools that cannot be taken away. With this scholarship support, I can continue turning those lessons into purpose. I will continue pursuing a future built not only from hardship, but from resilience, gratitude, and the desire to help others with the same compassion that shaped my own life.

My plans for the future center on building a career dedicated to protecting vulnerable children and ensuring their voices are heard within the criminal justice system. I am working toward becoming a special prosecutor who advocates for child victims of crime—children who have endured abuse, neglect, exploitation, or trauma and who often feel powerless in a system that can be confusing and overwhelming. My goal is to bring compassion, dedication, and accountability to this work so that every child receives the justice and support they deserve. This career path is not something I chose quickly; it is something that has grown within me through lived experience, maturity, and a deep desire to make a positive impact. As a first-generation, non-traditional student, returning to school has required courage and resilience. I am pursuing my degree while raising my children, working, and serving as a Girl Scout leader—all roles that have shaped my commitment to advocating for young people. My time volunteering with my troop has shown me just how influential support and guidance can be in the life of a child. It has strengthened my determination to be someone who stands up for children in their most vulnerable moments. Looking ahead, I plan to continue my education through law school and then specialize in crimes against children. I want to work directly with victims and their families, offering not only legal advocacy but also empathy, patience, and stability during a time filled with fear and uncertainty. Ultimately, I hope to contribute to building a justice system that treats children with dignity and prioritizes their safety and healing. This scholarship would play a meaningful role in helping me move toward these goals. As a non-traditional student balancing many responsibilities, financial challenges are one of the greatest barriers I face. Every semester requires careful budgeting, juggling expenses, and often putting my own needs last to ensure my children and household remain stable. This scholarship would relieve some of that financial pressure, allowing me to focus more fully on my coursework and long-term goals instead of worrying about how to afford each step. Beyond easing financial strain, receiving this scholarship would also be a powerful affirmation of my journey. It would serve as encouragement that my goals are worth pursuing, that my hard work is recognized, and that the obstacles I have overcome do not define me—they propel me. Support like this strengthens my commitment to continue pushing forward, even when the path is difficult. My future plans are driven by purpose: to advocate for children, to pursue justice with compassion, and to model for my own children that education and determination can truly change a life. This scholarship would not only help me continue my education—it would help bring me closer to the future I am working so hard to build.

I have not taken what most people would consider a traditional path to higher education. As a first-generation college student, a mother, a working professional, and now a returning student in my adult years, my journey has been shaped by persistence rather than predictability. What makes me a non-traditional student is not just my age or my responsibilities, but also the winding path, the setbacks, and the personal growth that led me to pursue a degree with purpose and clarity I did not have when I was younger. For much of my early adulthood, college felt like a distant dream. College was always something meant for other people, people who had the resources, guidance, and stability to pursue it with confidence. I did not have that foundation. Instead, I had to learn how to balance life as it came: raising children, working to support my family, and trying to build a stable future one step at a time. But somewhere along that journey, I realized that taking an unconventional path didn’t make me less capable, but rather it made me stronger, more resilient, and more determined to create a life defined by intention rather than circumstance. One of the qualities that most connects me to Andrea Worden’s legacy is perseverance. I returned to college after years away from the classroom, carrying both the weight of my responsibilities and the fear of whether I still belonged there. But I keep going not because it is easy, but because my goals matter deeply. I want to become a special prosecutor protecting child victims of crime, a career rooted in compassion, justice, and advocacy for those who cannot advocate for themselves. Every class I take moves me closer to that purpose. Kindness and compassion have also shaped much of who I am, especially through my service as a Girl Scout leader. Volunteering with my troop has shown me just how much influence a little patience, encouragement, and understanding can have on a child. My girls come from different backgrounds, each carrying their own hopes and challenges, and I take seriously the responsibility of creating a space where they feel seen, valued, and supported. Whether we are working on badges, solving conflicts, or volunteering in the community, my goal is always to model the kind of compassion and strength I want them to carry into their own lives. It is in these small, everyday moments spent listening to a girl talk about her fears, celebrating her achievements, reminding her that her voice matters that I feel most connected to Andrea’s spirit of generosity and investment in others. A defining moment in my life, one that shaped the person I am today, came during a period when I felt overwhelmed by responsibilities and unsure of my direction. I was juggling work, motherhood, and the early stages of returning to school when one evening my daughter, watching me study at the kitchen table, said, “Mom, when I go to college, I'm going to do what you do.” In that moment, something clicked. I realized that my journey was bigger than my own goals; it was about rewriting the narrative for the next generation in my family. I was showing my children that their dreams are worth pursuing, no matter their age or how long it takes to get there. That moment became my anchor, reminding me why I push through every challenge and why giving up is not an option. My experience has taught me that success is not defined by a straight line from high school to college to career. It is shaped by resilience, by the courage to begin again, and by the willingness to lift others as you climb, which are all values that Andrea Worden embodied so well. I am still on my journey, still learning, still growing, but I carry forward the same spirit of compassion, perseverance, and hope. My path may be unconventional, but it is one I walk with purpose. I am committed to using my education to advocate for vulnerable children in the courtroom, to support the young girls I mentor in Girl Scouts, and to set an example for my own children that it is never too late to create the future you want. This is my story, determined and guided by the belief that with kindness and resilience, we can change not only our own lives, but the lives of those around us.

Recovery, to me, means rebuilding a life rooted in strength, self-worth, and hope. It is not a straight or perfect path, but a commitment to choosing healing over hurt, growth over fear, and progress over the comfort of old habits. Recovery means learning to trust myself again. Re-learning my own decisions, my boundaries, and my ability to create a healthier future. It means giving myself grace on difficult days and celebrating the small victories that once felt impossible. Recovery is also about reclaiming control. It is the process of recognizing that my past does not define me and that I have the power to rewrite my story. It’s understanding that healing isn’t about becoming the person I used to be, but becoming someone stronger, wiser, and more grounded than before. I have found that recovery requires massive courage, starting with the courage to admit when I need help, courage to lean on others, and courage to face the parts of my life that I once tried to avoid. Most importantly, recovery means freedom. It is the freedom to show up fully for myself, my family, and my future. It’s the freedom to grow without shame, to dream without doubt, and to live with intention rather than survival. Recovery continues to be an opportunity to reclaim my voice, rediscover my purpose, and build a life that reflects the best version of who I am becoming.

Going to college represents far more than earning a degree. Going to college symbolizes possibility, growth, and the chance to build a future that once felt out of reach. As a first-generation student, attending college is a meaningful step toward breaking barriers that have existed in my family for generations. It means claiming opportunities that weren’t always available and proving to myself, my children, and my community that education can transform not only one life, but entire family trajectories. For me, college is an investment in purpose. It is a way to gain the knowledge, training, and credibility I need to pursue a career dedicated to protecting vulnerable children. My goal is to become a special prosecutor who advocates for child victims of crime, ensuring that they receive justice, support, and compassionate representation during the most difficult moments of their lives. I want to use my education to build a career that matters, a career that allows me to stand up for those who cannot always stand up for themselves. College is also deeply personal. By completing my degree, I am showing my own children that higher education is achievable at any age and under any circumstance. I want them to grow up understanding that goals don’t expire and that it’s never too late to reinvent yourself or pursue something bigger. Every assignment I complete and every milestone I reach sends a message to them: determination can take you anywhere. Ultimately, I am trying to accomplish two things. First, I want to build a meaningful career where I can make a positive impact by contributing to the safety, dignity, and future of children who need a strong advocate. Second, I want to open doors for the next generation in my own family, replacing uncertainty with confidence and showing them that education is not only attainable, but powerful. Continuing my education has given me the confidence to see myself as a leader and a role model. It has pushed me to balance school, work, my family and volunteering in ways that require discipline and resilience. Each semester reinforces my belief that I am capable of more than I once imagined. The long nights spent studying after everyone has gone to bed, the nights of leaving the dishes "for tomorrow" so that I can get extra time working on an assignment, all of it continues to culminate towards that degree and towards law school- towards my new life. Going to college is my opportunity to grow, to serve, and to create a life defined not by where I started, but by the difference I hope to make.

Being a first-generation college student has had a profound influence on my career goals, shaping not only what I want to achieve professionally but also the example I want to set for my own children. Growing up without a clear blueprint for higher education meant that I had to learn how to navigate college on my own. This turned out to be most often through trial, error, and a lot of determination. That journey taught me the value of perseverance, and it also helped me understand how powerful education can be in expanding opportunities, shifting generational patterns, and opening doors that once seemed out of reach. Because I have had to figure out every step myself, I developed a strong sense of purpose about where I want my education to take me. My goal of becoming a special prosecutor who protects child victims of crime is rooted in the belief that hard work and dedication can change lives, especially the lives of the most vulnerable. My first-generation experience has shown me the impact that support, guidance, and access can have, and it motivates me to be that source of support for children who need an advocate in their corner. Achieving this career will allow me to use my voice for those who cannot always use theirs, and that mission is deeply connected to my own journey of pushing past barriers. But my educational path is not just about my career; it is also about my family. As a first-generation college student, I want to rewrite the narrative for my children. I want them to grow up seeing education not as something intimidating or unattainable, but as a natural part of pursuing their goals. By returning to school as an adult, I am showing them that college is possible at any age, whether you start right after high school or years later when life finally allows you the space to try again. I want them to witness the value of persistence and to understand that learning never stops. Every class I take and every step closer I move toward my career reinforces the message I hope they will carry with them: you are never too old, too busy, or too far behind to chase what you want. I want my children to grow up believing in their own potential because they saw me pursue mine, even when the path wasn’t easy.

Being a first-generation college student has shaped every part of my educational journey. Without family experience to guide me, I learned early on to rely on persistence, resourcefulness, and resilience. Navigating financial aid forms, enrollment processes, and academic expectations has often felt overwhelming, but it has also fueled my determination to succeed. Growing up, higher education was talked about as an expected step after high school. Because of that, I entered college with a deep sense of responsibility. I knew that each class I completed and every milestone I reached mattered. Over time, I discovered that being first-generation was not a disadvantage but a source of strength. It pushed me to ask questions, seek mentors, and build support networks that many students might take for granted. I learned how to advocate for myself, how to navigate systems that were unfamiliar, and how to believe in my ability to succeed even when doubt crept in. These experiences have had a profound impact on my future goals. Overcoming obstacles that many others never encounter has helped me develop a strong sense of purpose, particularly in my plan to become a special prosecutor protecting child victims of crime. As a first-generation student, I understand what it feels like to face challenges that seem bigger than you. I know how powerful it can be when someone steps in to support you, guide you, or simply remind you that you are worthy of opportunity. That understanding drives my desire to stand up for children who have experienced trauma and feel powerless in a system that is confusing and intimidating. Being first-generation also motivates me to mentor and uplift others who face similar barriers. I want to be a visible reminder to younger students that their goals are within reach, even if no one before them has taken the path they hope to follow. The confidence and resilience I gained through my journey are strengths I will carry into my career, my service as a Girl Scout leader, and the communities I continue to serve. Ultimately, my experience as a first-generation student has taught me that perseverance opens doors, even when the path forward isn’t clear. It has strengthened my commitment to creating a future where vulnerable children receive the protection, advocacy, and compassion they deserve. My journey has not only shaped who I am, but also who I plan to become—an advocate, a leader, and someone who uses her experience to make a meaningful impact on the lives of others.

From an early age, I learned that meaningful change often begins with small acts of support, consistency, and compassion. Those values continue to guide me as I balance my roles as a working mother, student and a Girl Scout leader, each shaping my commitment to protecting vulnerable children and strengthening the communities around me. My long-term goal is to serve as a special prosecutor advocating for child victims of crime, and the work I do now reflects the foundation I am building to pursue that mission. Volunteering as a Girl Scout leader has been one of the most formative, challenging and rewarding experiences of my life. The troop I lead is full of bright girls ages 5 to 15 who are learning to navigate friendships, challenges, and their emerging sense of identity. Through bi-weekly meetings, community outings, and service projects, I have the privilege of watching them discover their strengths and grow more confident in their abilities. Being a leader means much more than organizing activities and keeping everyone on track. Being a leader means creating a safe environment where every child feels heard, valued, and supported. I take that responsibility seriously. Whether I am teaching a new skill, helping them talk through a misunderstanding, or modeling patience in difficult moments, I recognize that my influence can shape the way they see themselves and what they believe they deserve in the world. My work with these girls has solidified my desire to build a career protecting children whose voices are too often overlooked. As I continue my education with the goal of becoming a special prosecutor, I am drawn to the intersection of law, compassion, and justice. Child victims of crime deserve not only legal representation, but also advocates who understand their vulnerability and can navigate their cases with sensitivity and determination. I want to be that advocate. I am motivated to ensure that children who experience abuse or exploitation are met with support rather than skepticism, and that their cases are handled with the urgency and care they deserve. Pursuing this career will allow me to merge my compassion for children with my commitment to accountability and fairness. While the work ahead is emotionally demanding, I believe my experiences as a Girl Scout leader have prepared me to stay grounded in empathy while approaching challenges with resilience. I have learned how to communicate clearly, stay organized, and build trust with young people—skills that are directly applicable to working with child victims, who must feel safe before they can feel heard. Ultimately, I hope to make a positive impact on the world by standing up for children during their most vulnerable moments. I want to help restore their sense of safety, hold offenders accountable, and strengthen systems that are meant to protect them. Every meeting with my Girl Scout troop reminds me why this work matters. If I can play even a small role in ensuring that more children grow up feeling safe, supported, and empowered, then I will consider my career—and my life—a meaningful success.

Every day I strive to embody five traits that have become the foundation of who I am: someone with strong leadership skills, resilience, unselfishness, determination and a strong work ethic. These qualities have not only shaped how I approach my education and career, but also how I navigate life’s challenges with purpose and compassion. Leadership, to me, begins with listening. As someone pursuing a degree in forensic psychology and law, communication is at the heart of everything I do. Whether I’m interviewing a child, collaborating with classmates, or advocating for victims, I lead by creating trust, by ensuring others feel heard and by guiding conversations toward understanding and progress. True leadership isn’t about control but rather about empowering others to use their own voices confidently. I display this trait daily through active communication with clients and partners such as law enforcement, as well as empathy, and initiative both in academic settings and in my community involvement. Resilience is a trait that has been forged through adversity. Living with personal challenges has taught me how to adapt, recover, and keep moving forward even when circumstances seem overwhelming. Instead of viewing setbacks as barriers, I see them as lessons that build endurance. Each day, I remind myself that resilience is not about never falling—it’s about rising every time you do. That mindset has allowed me to stay motivated through demanding coursework, emotionally difficult cases, and personal trials, while maintaining my long-term vision. Selflessness guides my approach to service and advocacy. I believe that purpose is found in helping others find strength in their own stories. In my work as a Child Forensic Interviewer, I’ve learned that being unselfish often means putting aside my own emotions to create space for others to heal. It means using my knowledge and compassion to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I aim to contribute to something larger than myself whether through mentorship, volunteering, or academic collaboration. Focus and determination keep me grounded in my goals. Balancing education, work, and personal growth requires discipline and a clear sense of direction. I maintain military-like structure in my daily routine through dedicated study time, professional development, and personal reflection because I know consistency creates progress. My determination stems from my desire to reform how the justice system approaches trauma and mental health. I remind myself daily that each paper written, each hour studied, and each challenge overcome brings me closer to that goal. Finally, a strong work ethic is the thread that connects all these traits. I believe that effort reveals integrity. Showing up prepared, doing the hard work no one sees, and staying accountable even when motivation fades are hard attributes to follow, but I make them priority. In both my academic and professional life, I take pride in giving my best to every task, no matter how small. My future goal is to specialize in trauma-informed legal practices, bridging psychology and law to ensure justice is guided by compassion and evidence. I am pursuing my degree not only to build a career, but to create change. I strive to use leadership, resilience, and empathy to transform how we treat victims and understand human behavior. To me, leadership means using your strength to lift others. It’s not about standing in front, but rather about standing beside. And every day, through resilience, focus, selflessness, and hard work, I strive to lead with that kind of purpose.

Living with a chronic medical condition has shaped not only how I navigate the world but also why I chose to pursue a career in law and forensic psychology. The challenges I’ve faced have taught me how to adapt under pressure, find strength in vulnerability, and approach others with empathy and patience. What once felt like a personal limitation has become the foundation of my greatest purpose, a foundation to advocate for those who are often unheard and to bring compassion and scientific understanding to the pursuit of justice. There were times when my condition forced me to slow down, to reconsider what “productivity” or “success” truly meant. Managing an unpredictable illness meant learning to plan around uncertainty and to prioritize mental and emotional balance alongside achievement. Yet, even in the most difficult moments, I refused to allow my condition to define my potential. I became more focused, more resilient, and more intentional about how I used my time and energy. Every setback became a lesson in persistence, and every small victory reminded me that strength is not measured by perfection, but by perseverance. That perseverance now fuels my academic and professional ambitions. Through my studies in psychology and law, I have learned how trauma, environment, and biology shape behavior and how these insights can improve the way justice is delivered. My experience as a Child Forensic Interviewer showed me firsthand how critical it is to approach victims, especially children, with both compassion and scientific understanding. It also revealed how often the legal system overlooks the psychological realities of trauma, mental health, and chronic conditions. I hope to help change that. My goal is to specialize in trauma-informed legal practices and forensic advocacy. By combining psychological science with law, I want to ensure that investigations, court procedures, and sentencing decisions are informed by empathy and evidence instead of bias or assumption. My condition has given me an intimate understanding of what it feels like to be misunderstood, to have limitations others can’t see, and to rely on systems that aren’t always designed for those who need them most. That awareness drives me to create change for others who find themselves in the same position, whether they are victims, defendants, or witnesses navigating an intimidating system. This scholarship would allow me to continue pursuing that mission. Financial support would enable me to focus more deeply on my research and clinical training, and to contribute to programs that integrate psychological insight into legal reform. Most importantly, it would help me continue turning adversity into advocacy by transforming personal struggle into meaningful impact. Living with a chronic condition has taught me that empathy is one of the most powerful forms of strength. It’s what allows us to connect, to understand, and to create lasting change. I may live with limitations, but they have given me limitless purpose: to bring humanity into justice, science into compassion, and healing into the law.

My decision to further my education in STEAM (specifically in psychology and law) comes from both professional experience and personal conviction. As a Child Forensic Interviewer, I have sat across from children who have experienced unthinkable trauma and have witnessed the delicate balance between science, empathy, and justice. It was in those moments while listening to their stories and observing their courage that I fully understood how deeply psychology and law are intertwined. Both are rooted in understanding human behavior, protecting the vulnerable, and ensuring that truth is approached with care, not assumption. Psychology is the science that gives voice to what words alone cannot express. In my work, I’ve seen how trauma can affect memory, communication, and perception, all factors that directly influence a child’s ability to share their story. Law, on the other hand, provides the framework for ensuring those stories are heard ethically and fairly. Together, they form a powerful partnership: psychology informs justice, and justice gives psychology purpose. That realization is what inspired me to pursue my education in this field. STEAM, to me, is more than a collection of disciplines. It’s the foundation of meaningful change. The “science” in psychology allows us to approach trauma and behavior through evidence-based understanding rather than bias or assumption. Technology and data analysis help us track systemic disparities in legal outcomes. The “art” of empathy transforms that data into humane solutions that respect the individuals behind each statistic. By furthering my education in this interdisciplinary space, I hope to continue building bridges between evidence and empathy, research and reform. This scholarship would make that goal possible. Financial support would allow me to focus on advancing my studies and gaining the specialized training required to advocate for trauma-informed practices within the justice system. I plan to help reform child interviewing protocols and strengthen cross-disciplinary collaboration between law enforcement, mental health professionals, and the courts. By grounding legal practice in psychological science, we can create environments where children feel safe, supported, and believed. Beyond the courtroom, I hope to use my education to educate others, from students, to professionals, and even community members, on the importance of trauma-informed care. My experience has shown me that prevention and understanding must come before punishment if we want lasting change. Through continued study and community engagement, I want to help shift the justice system toward one that values healing as much as accountability. This scholarship represents more than financial assistance; it represents a belief in the power of compassion grounded in science. With your support, I can continue to merge my passion for psychology and law into a lifelong mission that ensures every child who enters the justice system is treated not just as evidence, but as a human being deserving of safety, dignity, and hope. That is why I chose STEAM, and that is why I will never stop pursuing its potential to change lives.

The first time I saw Wicked at the Cadillac Palace Theatre in Chicago, I was completely spellbound. The lights dimmed, the orchestra swelled, and from the moment Elphaba appeared, green-skinned and misunderstood, I knew I wasn’t just watching a musical. I was watching a story that would stay with me forever. That night, I didn’t just fall in love with Wicked; I found a reflection of myself on stage. From the opening number to the final bow, Wicked captivated me with its bold reimagining of The Wizard of Oz. But beyond the the soaring vocals, the breathtaking set and the emerald glow that filled the theater, it was the heart of the story that left the deepest impression. Elphaba’s struggle to be accepted, to be seen for who she truly is rather than how she appears, resonated with me on a personal level. Like her, I’ve faced moments where I felt out of place, where being different felt like a disadvantage. Watching her turn her differences into her greatest strength reminded me that individuality isn’t something to hide, but instead, something to celebrate. When Elphaba belted the words, “I’m through accepting limits ’cause someone says they’re so,” the entire theater seemed to hold its breath. I remember feeling an almost electric sense of empowerment in that moment, as if her defiance gave me permission to believe in my own potential. “Defying Gravity” has since become my personal anthem. Every time it comes across my shuffle, it is a reminder that boundaries are often self-imposed, and that the courage to rise above expectations can change the course of a life. The beauty of Wicked also lies in its moral complexity. It challenges the simple idea of good versus evil, showing how easily perception can shape truth. Glinda, Elphaba and the Wizard all operate in shades of gray, each believing they are doing what’s right. That nuance taught me to see the world through a more compassionate lens and to question assumptions, seek understanding, and look beyond appearances. It’s a lesson I’ve carried into how I view people, problems, and even myself. What moved me most, though, was the friendship between Glinda and Elphaba. Their bond, being complicated, honest, and transformative, reminded me that even those who begin as opposites can change each other “for good.” That lyric struck something deep in me, as I thought about the friendships and mentors who have shaped my path. Their impact, like Glinda’s and Elphaba’s, continues to guide me long after parting ways. Being a fan of Wicked isn’t just about loving its music or its magic. Being a fan of Wicked is about loving what it stands for: courage, authenticity, and empathy. The night I sat in that Chicago theater, surrounded by emerald light and music that seemed to lift the ceiling, I felt something awaken in me. That something was a belief that I, too, could “defy gravity” in my own way. That’s why Wicked isn’t just my favorite musical, but rather it’s a story that helped me find my own voice.

Every child has a voice, even if it isn’t spoken aloud. My professional experience working with children like Rebecca, children with rare syndromes, communication barriers, or trauma histories, has taught me that justice begins with understanding. My specialized trauma training with children with disabilities has profoundly shaped not only my professional identity but also my purpose: to pursue a career in child advocacy law, where compassion and evidence-based practice intersect to protect society’s most vulnerable. Before deciding to attend law school, I worked extensively with children who had developmental disabilities and trauma backgrounds, gaining specialized training in trauma-informed interviewing and communication techniques. I learned that traditional systems (educational, medical, and even legal) often fail to recognize how trauma and disability intertwine. A child’s silence is too often mistaken for defiance or indifference, when in truth it can be an act of survival. Those experiences showed me the urgent need for attorneys who understand the unique barriers children like Rebecca face and who are willing to advocate for them with both skill and empathy. If I were to work with a child like Rebecca as her legal advocate, my first priority would be connection. I would rely on alternative communication methods including visual aids, assistive devices and sensory accommodations, to ensure she can participate meaningfully in her case. My trauma-informed background would guide every step, from minimizing retraumatization during interviews to ensuring that legal processes respect her pace and comfort level. I believe the law must adapt to meet children where they are, not expect them to conform to systems that were never built for their needs in the first place. Family involvement is also a cornerstone of advocacy. Families provide the most consistent insight into a child’s history, strengths, and coping mechanisms. Partnering with caregivers not only strengthens the legal case but also supports healing. As a future attorney, I plan to build collaborative relationships with families, educators, and medical professionals to ensure that every aspect of a child’s experience is represented with accuracy and compassion in court. My journey has been driven by purpose more than privilege. I am currently funding my education through part-time work, student loans, and scholarships. Balancing financial challenges with academic commitment and raising my own two children has not been easy, but it has strengthened my resolve to use my education for service. This scholarship would significantly reduce my financial strain and allow me to continue pursuing the education necessary to become an advocate who changes lives, not only in the courtroom, but in the systems that surround it as well. My specialized trauma training has given me the lens to see what many overlook: that children with disabilities deserve more than protection. These children deserve empowerment. As a child advocacy lawyer, I will work to ensure that children like Rebecca are seen, heard, and defended with the dignity they deserve. Kindness, listening, and empathy will not just guide my practice; they will define it.

I first picked up a softball at age ten, playing for my town's local Park District league. What began as a way to spend more time with my friends became a passion that shaped my confidence, discipline, and sense of purpose. From those early games on scorching hot sun-drenched fields to competing in high school, softball has been more than a sport to me. As cliche as it sounds, it has been a teacher, a motivator, and a lifelong source of community. As a young player, I learned that success in softball isn’t just about how hard you swing or how fast you run. it’s about teamwork, perseverance, and trust. I can still remember the feeling of encouragement from my coaches and teammates, especially after a tough strike out. Those lessons carried me through my high school career, where I continued to grow not only as an athlete, but as a leader. I took pride in being someone my team could count on, both on and off the field. Through long practices, weekend tournaments, and challenging seasons, softball taught me a kind of resilience that extends far beyond the diamond. After high school, my relationship with the game evolved. I now coach my local Park District’s summer league, the same program where my love for softball began. Standing on the other side of the fence has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Coaching allows me to pass on the lessons I learned to the next generation of players. Watching young girls gain confidence, celebrate small victories, and grow together reminds me why I fell in love with this sport in the first place. Softball has shaped who I am: a mentor, a competitor, and a believer in the power of persistence. It taught me that leadership isn’t about being the loudest voice, but about lifting others up. It also instilled in me a lifelong commitment to giving back to my community, which I plan to continue through coaching and mentoring young players for years to come. Looking ahead, I hope to expand my involvement by organizing local youth clinics and working to increase access to softball for children who may not have the means to join a team. I want every child to have the same opportunity I did. I was given the opportunity to find joy, confidence, and connection through this sport. Softball has given me far more than medals or memories. Softball has given me purpose. It has taught me how to lead with heart, persevere through challenges, and believe in the power of teamwork. No matter where life takes me, I will always carry those lessons, as well as the love of the game, with me.

In a field that is defined by procedure and precedent, I’ve learned that true justice begins with compassion. As a Child Forensic Interviewer, I have sat across from children who have endured the unimaginable. Each child I've assessed had carried a story that required not interrogation, but understanding. In those moments, the most powerful tools I had were not my questions, but my ability to listen with empathy and respond with kindness. Those experiences are the foundation of my decision to attend law school and dedicate my career to child advocacy through special prosecution. Growing up in an abusive household, I experienced firsthand how powerless a child can feel when adults fail to listen. That sense of invisibility shaped my determination to ensure no child feels unheard or dismissed. My professional journey has allowed me to see how the legal system, though built to protect, sometimes retraumatizes the very children it seeks to serve. The difference between a child who feels silenced and one who finds their voice often comes down to how they are treated by those entrusted with their care. This especially applies to the legal professionals in charge of ensuring they receive justice. In law school, I plan to study the intersection of trauma-informed practice and child advocacy, focusing on how policies and courtroom procedures can be reimagined to prioritize safety, dignity, and healing. I am especially interested in learning how to build trauma-sensitive legal environments where children’s statements are not only admissible, but respected as vital pieces of truth. By combining my background in forensic interviewing with a legal education, I aim to become an attorney who bridges the gap between evidence and empathy. Kindness in the legal field is not a weakness. Kindness is a form of strength that allows us to see clients as human beings rather than case numbers. Listening is not passive; it is the active pursuit of understanding. Empathy is not sentimental; it is strategic, guiding us toward resolutions that serve justice and humanity alike. As a child advocate, I will bring these values to every interaction, whether speaking with a frightened child, negotiating with opposing counsel, or standing before a judge and ensuring that compassion remains central to the pursuit of justice. The law holds immense power, but it is the person wielding it who determines whether that power heals or harms. I want to be the kind of lawyer who uses it to heal. I will protect children, amplify their voices, and ensure they are seen not as victims of circumstance but as survivors with potential. Through kindness, listening, and empathy, I hope to contribute to a legal system that truly lives up to its promise: one that protects its most vulnerable with both strength and humanity.

The consequences of early childhood trauma are profound, far-reaching, and too often invisible. Children who experience abuse, neglect, and/or violence carry those wounds long after the physical scars fade. Trauma literally rewires the developing brain, shaping emotional regulation, attachment, and self-worth. It can lead to lifelong struggles with anxiety, depression, substance use, and trust. I know this not only through research or professional experience—but because I lived it. I grew up in an abusive household where fear was part of the daily rhythm. The instability of my early years left me constantly alert, always waiting for the next eruption. That kind of environment shapes a child’s understanding of safety and love. But it also gave me a deep empathy for children who live in similar shadows, and a determination to ensure that their stories are not silenced like mine once was. My past became the foundation of my purpose. As a Child Forensic Interviewer, I’ve had the privilege and the heartbreak of sitting across from children whose lives mirror my own early experiences. My job is to provide a safe space for them to share what happened in a way that honors their voice and supports the investigative process. Each interview reminds me how critical early intervention is—how a single compassionate professional can alter the trajectory of a child’s life. I’ve seen firsthand that when trauma is met with understanding and specialized support, healing becomes possible. But when it’s ignored or mishandled, the damage compounds for years. These experiences have solidified my commitment to continue my education and dedicate my career to combating the effects of childhood trauma. Whether through forensic psychology, advocacy, or policy reform, I want to help reshape the systems that respond to abused children—ensuring they are grounded in trauma-informed care. I believe that every interaction a child has with the justice or care system should reaffirm their worth, safety, and dignity. That means training professionals to recognize trauma responses, creating programs that support family healing, and building community resources that prevent abuse before it begins. My ultimate goal is to use my education to merge compassion with evidence-based practice—bridging the gap between the science of trauma and the humanity of those it impacts. I want to influence both the micro-level (direct care for children and families) and the macro-level (policy and prevention initiatives) to create lasting change. Early childhood trauma can either define a person or drive them to define change. For me, it has done the latter. The pain of my past has become the passion of my purpose. I’ve turned my experiences into empathy, and my empathy into action. Through my career, I hope to give every child I encounter the same thing I once needed most: someone who believes their story, values their healing, and helps them see that their past does not determine their future.

My caregiving journey began the day my father suffered a cardiac event that changed everything. In a matter of moments, the man who had always been my source of strength was put into a medically induced coma and then became partially paralyzed and dependent on others for the most basic tasks. I remember the sterile smell of the hospital, the hum of machines, and the overwhelming fear that life would never return to “normal.” I was right. Life as we knew it didn’t. But in the process of caring for my dad, I discovered a new version of myself. This new version had a new way of looking at life and was someone built on resilience, compassion, and purpose. At first, caregiving was terrifying. While I had completed my EMT-B certification, this new world of medical care was daunting. I was thrown in with no road map and no time to prepare. I learned to administer medications, monitor vitals, help with mobility exercises, and provide personal care, often while balancing school, work and my own children. The days blurred together in a rhythm of doctor’s appointments, late-night emergencies, and quiet moments of encouragement. Watching my father, a retired Marine and proudly independent, struggle to speak or move was heartbreaking. Despite that pain, I found an unspoken strength between us. Every small improvement became a victory worth celebrating. Caregiving forced me to grow up quickly. It taught me patience when progress was slow, empathy when frustration boiled over, and grace when exhaustion set in. There were times I felt invisible. I was looking over a man who spent his life looking over me. I felt overlooked while giving every ounce of energy to someone else’s recovery. I remind myself how those moments also revealed my capacity to lead through love. I became my father's advocate, learning medical terminology, coordinating with specialists, and ensuring his voice was heard. That advocacy awakened something in me and now I've returned to school to pursue a career where I can support others navigating the healthcare system with the same empathy and determination. Caring for my dad reshaped my goals entirely. I now see myself working in a field that bridges compassion and care championing individuals and families during their most vulnerable times. I want to help build systems that honor both patients and their caregivers, recognizing the emotional and physical toll caregiving takes, while celebrating its strength and humanity. Caring for my dad also redefined my identity. I no longer see strength as stoicism, as he used to exemplify, but as the ability to keep showing up despite fear and fatigue. I learned that vulnerability and resilience are not opposites; they coexist beautifully. My dad’s courage during recovery mirrored my own growth. I did not realize at the time that I was healing, too, in my own way. Through caregiving, I discovered that love is not just a feeling; it’s an action, a choice we make daily to keep fighting for one another, which is why I am still his sole caregiver to this day. My caregiving journey began with loss but it led to purpose. It taught me that true success is not measured in achievements, but in compassion, perseverance, and the quiet strength to keep going. That lesson will guide me for the rest of my life.

My goal is to use cybersecurity to protect the most vulnerable members of my community. Too many small organizations and families fall victim to online scams and data breaches simply because they lack awareness. I want to provide free workshops that teach basic online safety, password protection, and how to spot digital threats. By empowering people with knowledge, I can help them feel confident, safe and secure in the ever-changing digital world.

My future in forensic science was not built by my curiosity alone. My future in STEM was shaped by a community of women who showed me what it means to be empowered by knowledge, driven by curiosity, and determined to make a difference in STEM. From mentors and professors to peers and advocates, each woman has shown me that science is not only a discipline, but a force for truth, justice, and change. Growing up, I was fascinated by stories of evidence solving mysteries and truth being revealed through science. Yet, I rarely saw women represented in those roles. That changed when I joined a local women-in-STEM mentorship program when I was fresh out of high school. There, I met scientists, investigators, and engineers who broke barriers daily. This group of exceptional women encouraged me to explore my curiosity, to ask hard questions, and to find my voice in a field that too often underestimated it. Their support transformed my interest in crime scene investigation into a tangible career goal in forensic science. As I continue my education, I look forward to becoming part of a network of women who lift one another up through shared learning. Study groups evolve into think tanks where we as women can analyze case studies, challenge assumptions, and celebrate every success, as women, together. Empowerment in STEM comes from collaboration, not competition. We are strongest when we share our knowledge and build each other’s confidence. That belief inspired me to give back to the next generation. I began volunteering with my daughter’s Girl Scout troop, introducing the girls to the world of STEM through hands-on experiments, forensic demonstrations, and simple investigations that sparked curiosity. Watching their excitement as they solved “mini mysteries” reminded me of my own first moments of wonder in science. It also reaffirmed my commitment to representation and to showing young girls that they, too, can belong in labs, on investigations, and in leadership roles within STEM fields. As I look toward my future in forensic science, I carry with me the lessons of the women before me who have inspired me: to lead with intellect, work with purpose, and never stop learning. My path was made possible by women who believed in me, and I am determined to continue that legacy. I will use my work in forensics to bring truth to light and to empower others through knowledge and curiosity.

The desire to become a police officer (specifically a detective specializing in crimes against children) arises from my deep commitment to justice, compassion, and protection for society’s most vulnerable members. The prospect of serving children, who are often unable to defend themselves or seek help, is both a calling and a responsibility that shapes my career ambitions and personal values. My motivation goes beyond the pursuit of a job. This motivation is rooted in a conviction that every child deserves to grow up in a safe environment, free from all forms of abuse, neglect, and exploitation. Growing up in an abusive home myself, I was keenly aware of the devastating impact that violence and abuse can have on young lives. Whether through news reports, community outreach, or my own experiences, I have seen and experienced firsthand the emotional, psychological, and sometimes physical scars left on children who had been victimized. These experiences stirred a sense of urgency within me. I could not remain a bystander. I wanted to be part of the solution, ensuring that dangerous individuals are held accountable while survivors receive the justice and healing they deserve. Really, I want to be the person who I should have had as a child. Law enforcement, to me, is the embodiment of public service and protection. Within this realm, the role of a detective offers unique opportunities to seek truth, advocate for those with no voice, and meticulously pursue justice through investigation and critical thinking. Detectives who specialize in crimes against children must possess empathy and determination in equal measure. They must be able to build trust with traumatized victims, work collaboratively with social workers, and maintain relentless attention to detail when gathering and analyzing evidence. This complex, sensitive work demands not only intelligence and technical skill, but also deep compassion and integrity. These are qualities I strive to cultivate each day. The path to this calling is not easy, but it is one I embrace wholeheartedly. I am dedicated to completing the rigorous academic, physical, and psychological training required of police officers. I seek to complete my Bachelor's in Criminal Justice to further my education in criminology, psychology, and child development, recognizing that a foundation in these areas is essential for truly understanding victims’ needs and behaviors. Beyond formal education, I actively volunteer with an organization that support children in crisis, helping me to develop practical skills in communication, assessment, and crisis intervention. I also understand that justice for children is best achieved through prevention as well as prosecution. As a detective, my goal is to foster relationships with families, schools, and community groups to identify risk factors and intervene before crimes escalate. By educating the public, supporting at-risk youth, and advocating for stronger safety measures, I intend to create a safer community where children are protected not merely by response, but by prevention and empowerment.​ Ultimately, my aspiration to become a detective specializing in crimes against children is grounded in a desire to serve, to stand up against injustice, and to dedicate my life to repairing broken trust. I am driven by the belief that children’s innocence must be safeguarded and that my actions, persistence, and empathy can make a tangible difference in many lives. This is not a career I choose for status or stability, but for the opportunity to confront some of society’s darkest challenges with hope, skill, and unwavering dedication.​

Growing up with a single mother deeply shaped my resilience, sense of responsibility, and ability to persevere through challenges. My childhood experiences were often complicated by limited resources and emotional obstacles, but they instilled qualities that define who I am today. Living in a single-parent household meant acknowledging and adapting to economic hardships and the constant effort required to maintain stability, which taught me the value of hard work and self-reliance early on. Responsibilities in my family were distributed differently than in homes with two parents. My mom juggled the roles of both caretaker and provider, often working extra hours to make ends meet. This left me with the task of becoming more independent and proactive, both academically and in daily life. I learned to manage not only my own schedule but my younger siblings' as well, help with household duties, and support my mother emotionally through difficult times. These regular challenges cultivated empathy and a strong sense of commitment, qualities that I now carry into all areas of my life, especially becoming a special prosecutor focusing on crimes against children. Experiencing the absence of a second parent of course came with emotional struggles. There were moments when feelings of loneliness, stress, or frustration were hard to avoid, especially during times of family conflict or financial discomfort. However, those periods also motivated me to seek support from teachers and friends, leading to the development of social skills and a reflective understanding of relationships. Rather than becoming isolated, I learned to adapt, reach out, and build positive connections, turning adversity into a source of strength. Growing up with a single mother also exposed me to the realities of social stigma and judgment from others. Seeing my mom navigate these barriers with dignity inspired me to cultivate compassion, integrity, and an appreciation for diversity. Whenever I faced difficult circumstances or disappointing outcomes, I remembered her determination and persistence, reminding myself that enduring hardship can transform into personal growth and a greater ability to help others. Being raised by a single mom taught me what it truly means to be resilient, compassionate, and driven. Though my relationship with my mom was strained at times, my experiences gave me a deep understanding of responsibility, empathy, and the importance of community support. These qualities all came together and shaped me into someone who strives to overcome challenges and support others in doing the same. I now strive to be a positive example for my own children, and the many children I will encounter and continually advocate for as a special prosecutor.

Plato’s Republic, Book II: “They say that to do injustice is, by nature, good; to suffer injustice, evil; but that the evil is greater than the good. And so when men have both done and suffered injustice and have had experience of both, not being able to avoid the one and obtain the other, they think that they had better agree among themselves to have neither; hence there arise laws and mutual covenants; and that which is ordained by law is termed by them lawful and just. This they affirm to be the origin and nature of justice;–it is a mean or compromise, between the best of all, which is to do injustice and not be punished, and the worst of all, which is to suffer injustice without the power of retaliation; and justice, being at a middle point between the two, is tolerated not as a good, but as the lesser evil, and honoured by reason of the inability of men to do injustice with impunity. For no man who is worthy to be called a man would ever submit to such an agreement if he were able to resist; he would be mad if he did...” The central thesis arising from Plato's selected passage is that, for many, justice has no innate value; it emerges only as a social contract addressing the mutual harms of injustice. Plato, through the voice of Glaucon, confronts the raw roots of justice, stripping it of idealized associations and recasting it as a pragmatic compromise between human desires and vulnerabilities. The underlying meaning is that justice, rather than representing a transcendental good, exists as the lesser of two evils, the product of human weakness and necessity, not virtue. Plato’s probing of justice’s origins is revolutionary for its psychological realism. Human beings, by their very nature, seek advantage through power, cunning, or luck. The best conceivable outcome for any individual is to act unjustly and evade punishment; the worst is to suffer injustice helplessly. Justice, according to this view, is not celebrated because it is an absolute ideal, but because it offers protection against suffering—a truce agreed to by those powerless to pursue only their self-interest. The agreement is not made by strong-willed, capable individuals, but by those forced to compromise, seeking insurance against abuses they themselves cannot prevent.​ This confrontation with the “lesser evil” theory of justice signals a broader philosophical skepticism about deep morality in public life. If individuals only refrain from injustice out of fear of retaliation, then justice is a fragile construct, contingent not on internal virtue but on external threat. Plato, through Glaucon, suggests that most people are just only out of necessity—their goodness emerges not from righteousness but from constraint. The implication is unsettling: social virtue, lawfulness, and the foundation of civilized order may be less stable than we hope, dependent on the balance of power and fear rather than love of the good.​ What does this reveal about Plato’s philosophical project? Fundamentally, Plato seeks to probe the adequacy of common views of justice versus deeper, more essential ideals. By dramatizing this tension between necessity and virtue, Plato enacts a dialogue that challenges the reader to transcend mere compromise and search for intrinsic justice. He refuses to let the conversation rest at “justice as truce” and, later in the Republic, guides the reader towards an account of justice rooted in the health and harmony of the soul, not only societal arrangement.​ Glaucon’s analysis, however, cannot be dismissed as mere cynicism. It is an indispensable stage in the evolution of ethical thought. Plato recognizes the power of the social contract theory: the notion that laws exist primarily to mitigate suffering, that they are honored only insofar as they benefit the individual in restraining the harms of others. But Plato’s dialogue insists we must go further, asking what justice would look like if it were chosen freely, as the highest good, rather than adopted unwillingly for protection. This conceptual move marks a transition from external to internal goods, from politics to psychology.​ Thus, the underlying meaning of the passage is that justice, as commonly practiced, is borne out of shared weakness and the longing for safety, never out of aspiration. If all individuals could act with impunity, says Glaucon, few would practice justice voluntarily. But this exposes the poverty of a purely transactional society. Plato subtly encourages his audience to acknowledge this uncomfortable truth, not as a condemnation of all people, but as a challenge to rediscover the possible depths of justice as an intrinsic good. The philosophical task becomes, therefore, to imagine a society—and souls—who value the good not only for its outward effects, but for its role in realizing human nature’s highest aspirations.​ By expressing the common view with such clarity and force, Plato sets the stage for his own corrective. He will later argue in the Republic that justice is not simply a matter of transactions and contracts, but is intimately tied to the well-being of the soul. The person who is truly just does not merely abide by a truce but lives in accordance with harmony and wisdom. Social justice, properly understood, reflects not a “lesser evil,” but a state where the individual’s desires and rationality are in balance, producing health for both individual and society.​ In conclusion, the selected passage from the Republic is not a summary of Plato’s own views but a dramatic exposure of the limits of conventional morality. The underlying meaning is that justice, when conceived only as a safeguard against suffering, fails to achieve the status of virtue; it becomes an expedient, not a good. Plato’s deeper philosophical ambition is to overturn this view, proposing instead a society and a soul in which justice is revered for its intrinsic excellence—where the just person acts not from fear or necessity but as a realization of human fullness. The passage, then, is an invitation to undertake the difficult work of moving beyond compromise and toward true virtue, a challenge that remains as pressing today as in antiquity

I grew up in an abusive household and so from a young age, I understood that justice is not always evenly served. Witnessing vulnerable individuals, especially children, struggle to find protection ignited in me a lifelong determination to ensure that every child’s voice is heard. This commitment shapes every aspect of my education and career goals and is why I am passionately pursuing a path to become a special prosecutor for crimes against children. Determination is not just a trait I possess, it defines my daily actions. Throughout my academic journey, I have faced challenges that tested my resilience, from balancing rigorous coursework with full-time work to navigating complex legal internships. I am proud to say that I have never wavered in my purpose. Each obstacle became an opportunity to strengthen my resolve and sharpen my skills in advocacy, research, and communication. My ability to persist through difficulty sets me apart from others. I see challenges not as deterrents but as stepping stones toward my goal. My commitment extends beyond academics. I am currently employed with a child advocacy organization, where I have seen firsthand the profound trauma that victims of abuse endure. These experiences have deepened my conviction to dedicate my legal career to defending children’s rights. I believe my empathy, combined with a fierce sense of duty, equips me to pursue justice with both compassion and precision. What gives me an advantage is not just my unwavering determination, it’s direction. I know exactly what I want to do, why it matters, and how to get there. Every class I take, every internship I complete, and every case I study moves me closer to that mission. This scholarship is not only an investment in my education but also in the collective safety and future of countless children whose stories deserve to be heard and protected. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to focus more fully on my studies and specialized training, knowing that financial barriers will not impede my progress. I am committed to using this opportunity to build a career defined by integrity, persistence, and service to those who cannot defend themselves.

My experience with mental health has taught me that healing is not a straight line. As cliche as it sounds, it’s a journey of learning, unlearning, and rebuilding. For me, that journey began after the birth of my first child, when I faced postpartum depression. What should have been one of the happiest times of my life quickly became one of the hardest. I loved my daughter deeply, but I felt detached from the world around me. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and consumed with guilt for not feeling the joy I thought I was supposed to. At first, I tried to hide it. I told myself to just push through, to smile, to “be strong.” But the more I ignored my mental health, the heavier the weight became. Eventually, I reached a point where I knew I couldn’t keep going that way. Seeking help was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Through counseling, support of my siblings, and time, I began to heal. Colors started to appear in my world again. I learned that strength doesn’t always look like having it all together. Sometimes, it’s getting out of bed, asking for help, and believing that better days will come. Postpartum depression changed me. It gave me a new understanding of what it means to struggle quietly, and it reshaped how I see others. I became more compassionate, more patient, and more attuned to the emotional battles people face behind their smiles. It deepened my empathy in every relationship, from how I connect with my children to how I communicate with classmates and colleagues. I learned that vulnerability isn’t a weakness; it’s a bridge that allows genuine connection and healing. That experience also transformed my goals. It helped me realize I wanted to dedicate my life to helping others who feel unseen and unheard. My own recovery journey sparked a passion for advocacy and justice, particularly for children and families. I am now pursuing a law degree with the goal of becoming a special prosecutor who fights for children who have experienced abuse or neglect. My understanding of mental health makes me a better advocate. I know firsthand how trauma, fear, and isolation can affect behavior and decision-making. I want to bring that awareness and compassion into the justice system, to ensure that every child’s voice is heard with empathy and understanding. Living through postpartum depression taught me that resilience is not about never falling, and that seeking help does not equal failure. As a college student, mother, and first-generation learner, I carry that lesson with me every day. I’ve learned to celebrate small victories and to see my struggles not as setbacks, but as proof of my strength. My mental health journey didn’t break me, it became a part of me and built me. It gave me purpose, perspective, and an unshakable commitment to help others find their own strength. Today, I no longer hide my story. I share it, because I’ve learned that sometimes, our hardest experiences become the most powerful inspiration for change.

Island Truth or Dare! This challenge tests honesty, chemistry, and nerve: a flirty, chaotic mix of truth or dare and compatibility test. Islanders will face questions and dares submitted anonymously by their fellow contestants. The twist? They have no idea who submitted what. The Islanders gather around the fire pit at sunset. Each couple draws a tropical drink from the “Cup of Secrets.” Inside each cup is either a Truth Card or a Dare Card. The cards were filled out earlier in the day — anonymously — by the Islanders themselves. The host reminds everyone: “If you refuse a card, your entire couple must complete a mystery dare at the end!” Truth Examples: Which Islander do you secretly think is the most untrustworthy — and why? If your current partner was dumped tonight, who would you pursue next? Name one couple you think is totally fake. Dare Examples: Send a flirty voice note to the person you find most attractive (not your partner). Recreate your first kiss with your partner... in slow motion! Trade partners for one dance — and make it convincing. After every round, the villa votes on which answers or dares seemed the most honest and the most suspicious. The couple voted most genuine wins a private moonlight dinner; the least genuine couple is sent to the “Truth Booth” — a secluded space where they must answer three raw relationship questions privately (shown to the rest of the villa later). The vibe is playful, romantic, slightly mischievous. Think beach cocktails, cheeky background music, and a night full of laughter, tension, and unexpected truths.

To me, resilience means showing up even when it literally hurts, even when the odds feel impossible, even when no one else sees the battle you’re fighting. It’s the quiet courage to keep moving forward when your body and mind are exhausted, and to believe in your dreams despite the challenges that try to stand in your way. Resilience isn’t about being unbreakable; it’s about being unyielding. It’s learning to bend without giving up. Living with an autoimmune disease has taught me that strength often looks different than what people imagine. For me, it means planning my days carefully, balancing rest and recovery with my coursework, and finding creative ways to stay on top of my studies when flare-ups hit. Some days, I have to work twice as hard just to keep up. Even when the pain is excruciating, I do, because my education is my purpose. I’ve learned to advocate for myself, communicate with professors, and ask for help when I need it. That in itself is an act of strength. Resilience has also taught me empathy. I understand now that everyone carries unseen battles, and that compassion can make all the difference. As a college student living with an autoimmune disease, I’ve turned my struggle into motivation. I'm motivated to prove that limitations don’t define me, and that perseverance can turn pain into power. Each class I attend, each paper I submit, and each goal I accomplish is a quiet victory. My condition may slow me down, but it will never stop me. Resilience means refusing to let my challenges write my story. I am writing my story myself, one determined step at a time. Even when I finish school, and continue on with my career of being a special prosecutor for crimes against children, my condition comes with me. I cannot wait to be an example that you can do anything, even when you're fighting your body the whole time.

Being a first-generation college student means more to me than earning a degree. Being the first in my family to go to college, it means breaking cycles, redefining what is possible, and setting a new standard for my children. I come from a background where education was a dream often spoken of but rarely achieved. The path to higher education hasn’t always been clear, but it has been paved with determination, sacrifice, and a deep belief that my story can end differently. Every late night of studying and every obstacle I’ve overcome represents more than my progress. It all represents hope for my family’s future. My journey hasn’t been an easy one. Balancing school, work, and motherhood has tested my endurance and my commitment. As a single parent of two children, I’ve faced moments of doubt, exhaustion, and financial strain. Yet, my children have always been my greatest motivation. Their unwavering belief in me reminds me that I started this journey to show them that resilience is stronger than circumstance. Every time I see their proud smiles after a long day of classes, work and papers, I’m reminded that this effort is not just for me, but for them, and for the children I hope to serve in my future career. My goal is to become a special prosecutor specializing in crimes against children. Before pursuing law, I worked as a sexual assault and domestic violence counselor and as a child forensic interviewer. In those roles, I witnessed the devastating impact of abuse and neglect, but also the incredible courage of children who found their voices in the midst of trauma. Those experiences gave me my calling to stand beside them in the courtroom and fight for justice when they cannot fight for themselves. I’ve seen firsthand how one advocate can change the course of a child’s life, and I am determined to be that advocate. This scholarship would play an invaluable role in helping me continue that mission. As a first-generation student, I’ve had to navigate the financial and emotional challenges of higher education on my own. Every bit of support allows me to focus more fully on my studies and less on how I will manage tuition, books, and childcare. It would provide the stability I need to stay on track toward my law degree and, ultimately, my dream of becoming a voice for vulnerable children in the justice system. Being a first-generation student means carrying the hopes of generations of ancestors before me and laying the groundwork for the generations after me, even beyond my children. It means transforming hardship into motivation and using education as a tool for change. My journey has taught me that purpose is born from perseverance, and with this scholarship, I will be one step closer to turning that purpose into action. I am determined to be a light fighting for justice, protecting children, and showing my own children that even the biggest dreams are possible when you refuse to give up.

The Taylor Swift performance that moves me the most is her acoustic rendition of “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” during the Red (Taylor’s Version) era. Stripped of the flashing lights and elaborate production, it was just Taylor, her guitar, and raw emotion. That performance captured everything I admire about her. It captured not just her artistry, but her courage to be vulnerable in front of millions. What makes it so powerful is the honesty behind it. Taylor didn’t just sing about heartbreak; she relived it, turning personal pain into universal connection. Every lyric felt like a confession, every pause like a breath between healing and heartbreak. Watching her command the stage with such authenticity reminded me how strength and sensitivity can coexist. She showed that storytelling—when done with heart—can transform pain into art that helps others feel seen. That performance inspired me to embrace my own experiences with the same openness and resilience. Taylor’s ability to turn her life into a message of growth and empowerment has shaped how I view my own challenges: not as endings, but as beginnings. Her music and performances remind me that honesty is powerful, and that our stories—no matter how painful—can become our greatest source of light.

Building credit early is important to me because it represents more than just a number, it’s a foundation for financial independence and stability. Good credit opens doors to opportunities that can shape my future, especially securing housing and reliable transportation. I’ve seen how a lack of financial literacy can limit people’s choices, and I want to take a proactive approach to ensure that I’m prepared for financial responsibilities, especially with taking on large debt while pursuing my Law Degree. To take control of my financial future, I plan to start by using credit wisely and intentionally. I’ll open a starter credit card, make small purchases, and pay off my balance in full each month to establish a positive payment history. I’m also committed to creating a realistic budget, tracking expenses, and saving consistently for emergencies. By staying disciplined, I’ll avoid unnecessary debt and use credit as a tool, not a trap. Ultimately, I view financial responsibility as an investment in my freedom. Building credit early gives me the confidence to plan long-term, set meaningful goals, and create a stable foundation for both my personal and professional life. It’s about building trust in myself and my ability to manage my future with intention. I've definitely learned how easy it is to be overcome with credit card debt, and I learned it the hard way. Prices went up, my salary remained the same and I'm taking college courses all at the same time. My credit score plummeted, and I'm working to rebuild. I am a single mother of 2, working and taking classes full time. My children motivate me to show them that no matter what, you have to work hard and chase your dreams. We work on homework together at the dinner table. We take turns studying. I'm showing them that no matter how old you are, you can always start over or find a new path. Learning isn't linear, and finances should never stand in the way of achieving your dreams. Dedication, work ethic, and financial responsibility are all extremely important life skills that I am instilling in my children through the power of example. They've seen me struggle and now it is time for them to see me soar. Financial literacy and independence is giving all of us new and exciting opportunities that I previously never considered plausible. By joining the Qwick Card wait-list, I've taken yet another step to correcting, protecting and maintaining my financial future.

There was a time in my life when every day blurred into the next, when alcohol was both my comfort and my cage. My four month old son, Tucker, passed in December of 2020. The pain was unlike anything I've ever endured. What began as a way to cope with stress, pain, and feelings I didn’t yet know how to face slowly took over every aspect of my existence. I told myself I had control, that I could stop whenever I wanted, but the truth was that alcohol controlled me. It dulled my emotions, my motivation, and eventually, my sense of self. I lost relationships, jobs, opportunities, and most importantly, my peace. My turning point didn’t come in one dramatic moment; it came quietly, in the exhaustion of living the same painful cycle over and over. I realized I wasn’t living at all, I was surviving. That realization was both terrifying and freeing. I sought help through my local AA, leaned on new friends in the support groups, and began the long process of recovery. Sobriety wasn’t easy. It meant confronting everything I had been trying to numb for years, but it also meant rediscovering who I truly was underneath the haze. Since becoming sober, my life has transformed in ways I could never have imagined. I’ve learned that accountability and self-compassion can coexist, and that healing isn’t linear. Sobriety is built one day, one choice at a time. Sobriety gave me back my clarity, my ambition, and my purpose. I found strength in vulnerability and began to understand that my past doesn’t define me. That purpose is what drives my pursuit of a Law Degree. I want to use my education to advocate for individuals whose lives have been affected by addiction, particularly within the criminal justice system. Too often, substance use is treated solely as a crime rather than a symptom of deeper pain or unmet need. I want to be part of the movement that changes that. I want to be a prosecutor who promotes treatment over punishment, fairness over fear, and understanding over stigma. My experience with alcohol addiction has given me empathy, patience, and the ability to truly listen, which are qualities that are essential for any effective advocate. I know what it’s like to feel powerless, and I also know the strength it takes to rebuild. Through the study of law, I hope to combine that lived experience with legal knowledge to make a tangible difference in people’s lives. Whether it’s helping someone access rehabilitation instead of incarceration or fighting for equitable treatment policies, I want my work to reflect both compassion and justice. Sobriety taught me that second chances are not given—they’re earned. My education is part of that second chance, and this scholarship represents another step in building a life dedicated to helping others find theirs. I am no longer running from my past; I am using it as a foundation to create something meaningful, both for myself and for those still searching for hope.

From the first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter’s voice, I was drawn not only to her music but to the authenticity behind it. She has a rare ability to blend vulnerability, humor, and strength into every lyric, reminding me that confidence doesn’t come from perfection, but rather, it comes from embracing who you are, flaws and all. Over the years, her growth as an artist and her fearlessness in evolving her sound have mirrored my own journey of learning to accept myself, take risks, and chase my dreams no matter what. What I admire most about Sabrina is her perseverance. She began her career as a young actress on Girl Meets World, but she didn’t stop there. I love how she carved out a space for herself in the music industry through hard work, creativity, and an unshakable belief in her vision. Watching her face criticism and pressure with grace taught me that success is not about being universally liked, but about staying true to your art and values. When I listen to songs like “because i liked a boy” or “emails i can’t send,” I feel seen. Her lyrics speak to the pain of misunderstanding, the complexity of growing up, and the beauty in turning heartbreak into art. Sabrina’s career has also shown me that being multifaceted isn’t a weakness. She acts, sings, writes, and performs with equal passion, proving that creativity doesn’t have to fit in a box. That mindset encouraged me to pursue my own diverse interests without fear of judgment. I’ve always struggled with feeling like I had to choose one path, but her example gave me permission to explore many. Whether it’s art, academics, or leadership, I’ve learned to approach everything I do with authenticity and enthusiasm, as Sabrina has so eloquently shown so many how to do. Her recent success, from sold-out concerts to opening for Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour, has been especially inspiring. Not because of fame or recognition, but because she’s remained grounded and genuine through it all. She uses humor and joy to connect with people, showing that you can be ambitious without losing your kindness or humility. That balance is something I strive for in my own life. Sabrina Carpenter’s impact on me goes beyond music. She's shown me resilience, creativity, and self-expression. She has taught me that growth takes time, that failure can be fuel, and that art can heal. Her journey encourages me to stay authentic, to keep creating, and to believe that I am capable of defining success on my own terms, especially with pursuing my Law Degree.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to the certainty of math. In a world that often feels chaotic and unpredictable, math has always offered me a sense of structure, balance, and truth. Numbers don’t change their minds. Equations don’t hold grudges. And when you follow the logic, you will always arrive at the same answer. That kind of reliability is rare, and it’s one of the many reasons I love math. Math is consistent. No matter who you are or where you come from, two plus two will always equal four. It doesn’t matter what language you speak or what your background may be—the principles remain universal. In a way, math connects us all through its constancy. It reminds me that while life can be uncertain, there are still things I can count on. The predictability of math gives me comfort and confidence; I know that if I put in the effort to understand a concept, it will reward me with clarity and proof. There’s no guessing, no pretending—only truth revealed through reasoning. What I find most beautiful about math is how it teaches us to think critically and logically. Every problem is a puzzle waiting to be solved, and even the most complex equations can be broken down step by step. Math doesn’t ask for perfection—it asks for persistence. It challenges me to be patient, to pay attention to detail, and to learn from mistakes. The process of working through a problem until I reach the right solution is deeply satisfying. It’s not just about finding the answer; it’s about understanding why the answer works. My love for math has also taught me resilience. There have been times when a formula didn’t make sense or a proof seemed impossible, but I learned that persistence leads to progress. Each challenge only deepened my appreciation for how reliable math truly is—when I finally understand, the logic always checks out. That moment of clarity, when confusion turns into understanding, is one of the most rewarding feelings I know. Ultimately, I love math because it mirrors what I strive for in life: consistency, honesty, and problem-solving. It gives me a foundation I can trust and a mindset that prepares me to approach any challenge with patience and logic. In an unpredictable world, math is my constant—always dependable, always true.

Balancing my education with my responsibilities as a single parent has been one of the most challenging and meaningful experiences of my life. My journey has been shaped by equal parts sacrifice and determination, fueled by the belief that hard work and perseverance can transform adversity into opportunity. Every day, I strive to balance the demands of coursework with the responsibilities of parenthood, reminding myself that my pursuit of a degree is not just for me — it is for the future I am building for my daughter. As a single mother, my days often begin before sunrise and end long after my daughter has gone to bed. There are nights when the exhaustion feels heavy, when the weight of studying, working, and parenting simultaneously seems almost too much to bear. But it’s in those quiet, difficult hours that I find my greatest motivation. One night, after I had been up late reviewing case law for an exam, my 11-year-old daughter came into the room, sleepy but smiling. She looked at me and said, “Mom, you’re going to be the best lawyer ever. You never give up.” That simple, heartfelt statement reminded me exactly why I continue to push forward. Her faith in me reignited my own, and in that moment, I realized that my persistence was already teaching her one of the most valuable lessons in life — resilience. Being both a student and a parent has required careful balance, unwavering focus, and a deep sense of purpose. I have learned to organize my time efficiently, prioritize what truly matters, and embrace flexibility when unexpected challenges arise. These skills, born from necessity, have strengthened my resolve and given me the discipline needed to excel academically while remaining the mother my daughter deserves. My decision to pursue a degree, particularly in the field of criminal justice, stems from my passion for advocacy and justice. As a sexual assault and domestic violence counselor and child forensic interviewer, I have seen the strength it takes for victims to speak their truth. I want to stand beside them in the courtroom one day as a prosecuting attorney — giving a voice to those who have been silenced. My daughter’s encouragement and belief in my purpose remind me daily that this goal is not only possible but essential. This scholarship would make an extraordinary difference in our lives. Financial challenges are a constant reality for single parents pursuing higher education. Tuition, textbooks, and childcare often compete with basic living expenses. This scholarship would help relieve those burdens, allowing me to dedicate more focus to my studies and less to financial stress. More importantly, it represents belief — belief that my efforts are worthwhile and that others see potential in what I am working to achieve. Ultimately, I see my education and my family not as competing priorities, but as two intertwined parts of my identity. My daughter is both my greatest responsibility and my greatest inspiration. When I cross that graduation stage, it will not be my accomplishment alone — it will be ours. This scholarship will help me take another step toward that moment, and toward the life I have promised her: one built on perseverance, integrity, and the power of never giving up.

Throughout my career in victim advocacy, I have witnessed the profound and lasting effects of sexual violence and domestic abuse, particularly on children. These experiences have solidified my commitment to pursuing a career as a prosecuting attorney focused on improving the low prosecution rates for crimes against children. My work as a sexual assault and domestic violence counselor, coupled with my experience as a child forensic interviewer, has provided me with an intimate understanding of the barriers that often prevent victims from obtaining justice. I have seen how trauma, fear, and systemic shortcomings can silence victims, hinder investigations, and ultimately allow offenders to escape accountability. My goal as a future prosecutor is to address these challenges through trauma-informed, evidence-based, and collaborative approaches that place the needs of victims at the center of the legal process. As a sexual assault and domestic violence counselor, I worked directly with survivors in moments of unimaginable crisis. I learned the importance of listening without judgment, providing emotional support, and empowering survivors to reclaim a sense of control after their autonomy had been violated. These interactions taught me that the path to justice begins long before a case reaches the courtroom—it begins with how victims are treated when they first come forward. When victims feel safe, heard, and believed, they are far more likely to participate in the legal process. I intend to carry this understanding into my prosecutorial work by fostering a supportive environment for victims and ensuring they are treated with dignity at every stage of the case, regardless of the legal outcome. My experience as a child forensic interviewer further deepened my insight into the complexities of prosecuting crimes against children. I have conducted interviews with young victims of abuse, carefully balancing investigative rigor with compassion and sensitivity. This work has allowed me to see firsthand how trauma affects memory, communication, and disclosure. I have collaborated with law enforcement, child protective services, and medical professionals to ensure that each child’s statement is obtained ethically and accurately, without causing additional harm. These experiences have reinforced my belief that successful prosecution of child sexual abuse cases requires specialized training, multidisciplinary collaboration, and a deep understanding of trauma-informed practices. In my future career as a prosecuting attorney, I plan to advocate for systemic improvements that strengthen case outcomes for these vulnerable victims. This includes enhancing training programs for prosecutors and investigators, expanding access to victim advocacy services, and promoting policies that prioritize early intervention and support. I also hope to contribute to community education initiatives aimed at increasing awareness, reducing stigma, and encouraging reporting. Every step of my professional journey has prepared me for this next chapter. The compassion I developed as a counselor and the precision I honed as a forensic interviewer will serve as the foundation for my legal work. I am driven by the conviction that justice should be accessible to all victims, regardless of their age or circumstances. As a future prosecutor, I will strive not only to hold offenders accountable but also to restore faith in the justice system for those who have been most deeply harmed by it.

The most significant loss I have ever experienced was the passing of my son, Tucker, in December 2020. There are no words that can truly capture the weight of that kind of heartbreak—the silence that follows, the emptiness that lingers, the ache that settles into your soul. Losing him shattered everything I thought I understood about life, love, and purpose. Instead of remembering his smile, his face, his tiny hands, all I remember is the coldness and sterility of the hospital room when I realized he was gone. In the beginning, it felt impossible to breathe, impossible to imagine any day that didn’t hurt. Honestly, I don't remember much. But as time moved, grief began to change shape. I learned that love doesn’t end when a life does—it continues, quiet but steady, finding new ways to live inside you. Tucker taught me more in his short time here than I could have ever imagined. He taught me to see beauty in fragile moments, to hold tighter to the people I love, and to find strength in vulnerability. Before Tucker I was your typical "eldest daughter"-always in charge. Since losing Tuck, I have realized that it's ok to ask for help. It's also ok to chase your dreams, and pivot careers after 15 years. His loss has made me softer and stronger all at once. I carry him with me in everything I do—in the way I show kindness, in how I listen to others, and in how I choose to keep going, even when it’s hard. My outlook on life has changed completely. I no longer take time for granted, and I measure success not in achievements, but in love shared and moments cherished. Tucker motivates me to push harder, go further, complete what I previously thought impossible. Tucker is the epitome of "You won't know unless you try." Though grief will always be a part of me, so will he. My son’s light continues to guide me, reminding me every day to live with purpose, to lead with compassion, and to find beauty even in the broken places. It sounds cliche to say that I am pursuing my Law Degree for Tucker, but that's exactly what I am doing. I am trying to live my life to the fullest and bring him along with me to experience the things that he cannot. I have his footprints tattooed on the tops of my feet, a constant reminder that he is always walking with me in this journey.

The most significant loss I have ever experienced was the passing of my son, Tucker, in December 2020. There are no words that can truly capture the weight of that kind of heartbreak—the silence that follows, the emptiness that lingers, the ache that settles into your soul. Losing him shattered everything I thought I understood about life, love, and purpose. Instead of remembering his smile, his face, his tiny hands, all I remember is the coldness and sterility of the hospital room when I realized he was gone. In the beginning, it felt impossible to breathe, impossible to imagine any day that didn’t hurt. Honestly, I don't remember much. But as time moved, grief began to change shape. I learned that love doesn’t end when a life does—it continues, quiet but steady, finding new ways to live inside you. Tucker taught me more in his short time here than I could have ever imagined. He taught me to see beauty in fragile moments, to hold tighter to the people I love, and to find strength in vulnerability. Before Tucker I was your typical "eldest daughter"-always in charge. Since losing Tuck, I have realized that it's ok to ask for help. It's also ok to chase your dreams, and pivot careers after 15 years. His loss has made me softer and stronger all at once. I carry him with me in everything I do—in the way I show kindness, in how I listen to others, and in how I choose to keep going, even when it’s hard. My outlook on life has changed completely. I no longer take time for granted, and I measure success not in achievements, but in love shared and moments cherished. Tucker motivates me to push harder, go further, complete what I previously thought impossible. Tucker is the epitome of "You won't know unless you try." Though grief will always be a part of me, so will he. My son’s light continues to guide me, reminding me every day to live with purpose, to lead with compassion, and to find beauty even in the broken places. It sounds cliche to say that I am pursuing my Law Degree for Tucker, but that's exactly what I am doing. I am trying to live my life to the fullest and bring him along with me to experience the things that he cannot. I have his footprints tattooed on the tops of my feet, a constant reminder that he is always walking with me in this journey.

The most significant loss I have ever experienced was the passing of my son, Tucker, in December 2020. There are no words that can truly capture the weight of that kind of heartbreak—the silence that follows, the emptiness that lingers, the ache that settles into your soul. Losing him shattered everything I thought I understood about life, love, and purpose. Instead of remembering his smile, his face, his tiny hands, all I remember is the coldness and sterility of the hospital room when I realized he was gone. In the beginning, it felt impossible to breathe, impossible to imagine any day that didn’t hurt. Honestly, I don't remember much. But as time moved, grief began to change shape. I learned that love doesn’t end when a life does—it continues, quiet but steady, finding new ways to live inside you. Tucker taught me more in his short time here than I could have ever imagined. He taught me to see beauty in fragile moments, to hold tighter to the people I love, and to find strength in vulnerability. Before Tucker I was your typical "eldest daughter"-always in charge. Since losing Tuck, I have realized that it's ok to ask for help. It's also ok to chase your dreams, and pivot careers after 15 years. His loss has made me softer and stronger all at once. I carry him with me in everything I do—in the way I show kindness, in how I listen to others, and in how I choose to keep going, even when it’s hard. My outlook on life has changed completely. I no longer take time for granted, and I measure success not in achievements, but in love shared and moments cherished. Tucker motivates me to push harder, go further, complete what I previously thought impossible. Tucker is the epitome of "You won't know unless you try." Though grief will always be a part of me, so will he. My son’s light continues to guide me, reminding me every day to live with purpose, to lead with compassion, and to find beauty even in the broken places. It sounds cliche to say that I am pursuing my Law Degree for Tucker, but that's exactly what I am doing. I am trying to live my life to the fullest and bring him along with me to experience the things that he cannot. I have his footprints tattooed on the tops of my feet, a constant reminder that he is always walking with me in this journey.