My long-term career goal is to become an engineer who develops innovative, sustainable solutions to real-world problems, particularly in underserved communities. I want to use my skills to design systems, products, and technologies that improve access to clean water, affordable housing, renewable energy, and efficient transportation. My vision is not only to contribute to technological progress but also to ensure that such progress is inclusive, equitable, and driven by the needs of people who are often left behind. This goal is deeply rooted in the values that guide me every day, empathy, integrity, and service. I grew up in a low-income household, and I’ve seen firsthand how inequality can limit opportunities, even for the most hardworking and intelligent individuals. That experience has made me sensitive to the needs of others and has shaped my desire to create tools and systems that help close those gaps. From a young age, I was fascinated by how things work. I would take apart old radios and broken appliances, not just to see inside, but to understand how they could be fixed. That curiosity grew into a passion for problem-solving. Over time, I realized that engineering is not just about machines and calculations, it’s about people. It’s about making lives better, safer, and more sustainable. Whether it’s designing safer infrastructure in disaster-prone areas or creating accessible technologies for people with disabilities, engineering gives me a platform to turn ideas into impact. What drives me most is the idea that knowledge and innovation should be tools for empowerment. I believe engineering has the power to change lives, but only if it is guided by compassion and purpose. I want to use my education to serve others, particularly those who face structural disadvantages. I’m committed to making a difference not only through my future career but also along the journey, by mentoring younger students, engaging in community service, and advocating for diversity in STEM fields. To me, ambition isn’t just about personal success. It’s about lifting others up along the way. My drive comes from the hope of making a meaningful difference in the world, using every bit of skill, creativity, and determination I have. I know that the road ahead will be challenging, especially with financial obstacles, but I also know that I am not defined by those limitations. I am defined by my resilience, my purpose, and my commitment to using engineering as a force for good. This scholarship would not only help ease the financial burden of college, it would also affirm that the values I live by matter. It would allow me to focus more on learning, growing, and contributing to a future where innovation serves everyone, not just a few.

Being a female athlete, student, and leader in today’s world has not only tested my limits but also revealed strengths I never knew I had. Running track, specifically the 100 and 300-meter hurdles, taught me how to face challenges head-on, literally and metaphorically. Hurdling is about attacking obstacles with speed, precision, and confidence, which is exactly how I’ve learned to approach life as a young woman navigating spaces often dominated by men. Balancing my commitments on the track with my academic workload, two jobs, and serving as president of two clubs wasn’t easy, but it was empowering. Each area of my life demanded something different from me. On the track, I had to be fierce and focused. At work, I needed to be dependable and efficient. In leadership roles, I had to think critically, communicate effectively, and inspire others. Managing all of this while maintaining my grades taught me resilience and time management, but more importantly, it taught me that I didn’t need to shrink myself to fit into anyone’s mold. Being a female in leadership and athletics means constantly proving that you belong in spaces where people may expect less of you. In male-dominated environments, I’ve felt the need to speak louder, work harder, and show up stronger just to be seen. But instead of letting that discourage me, I let it motivate me. Every time I stepped onto the track or into a meeting, I did so with the intention of being undeniable, not just as a woman, but as a capable, driven individual. I didn’t want to be seen as the exception; I wanted to help redefine the standard. Working two jobs while juggling school and extracurriculars also gave me a deep sense of independence. I didn’t have the luxury of wasting time or waiting for opportunities to come to me, I had to create them. That kind of drive, combined with the discipline I gained from sports, has helped me remain focused in environments where distractions and discouragements are constant. Through all of this, I’ve grown into a woman who doesn’t fear hard work, who leads with confidence, and who understands the value of persistence. Being a female athlete and leader taught me to own my space unapologetically. It taught me to turn pressure into power. And in a world where women, especially young women, are too often underestimated, I’ve learned how to stand firm, speak up, and show others what we’re truly capable of.

Throughout all four years of high school, I was a dedicated member of the track team, competing in the 100-meter and 300-meter hurdles. Track wasn’t just a sport for me—it was a discipline, a mental challenge, and a source of motivation that helped me build confidence and resilience. Hurdles in particular taught me a lot about life; every race required precision, focus, and the ability to recover quickly from mistakes. The same qualities were necessary to juggle all the responsibilities I had off the track. Balancing athletics with academics, work, and extracurricular activities wasn’t easy. During high school, I held two jobs at the same time to help support my mom and our household. This meant early mornings, late nights, and very little downtime. I would often go straight from school to practice, and then from practice to work. My evenings were filled with homework and club meetings, where I served as president of two organizations. There were times I felt completely exhausted—but giving up was never an option. My responsibilities kept me grounded, and my goals kept me focused. Time management became one of my greatest strengths. I learned how to prioritize, stay organized, and maximize every free moment. Whether it was studying in the locker room between practice and work or reviewing notes while waiting for my shift to start, I found creative ways to stay on top of schoolwork while still giving 100% to my sport. I maintained strong grades and still completed over 300 hours of community service, all while modeling and competing in pageants. What helped me most was understanding that every part of my schedule served a purpose. Track gave me the discipline and physical outlet I needed. Academics opened the doors to my future. Work helped me contribute to my family. And community service allowed me to give back to others facing their own hurdles. These experiences didn’t compete—they worked together to shape the person I’ve become. Ultimately, the hard work paid off. Winning the Miss El Paso Teen title was a huge accomplishment, not just because of the recognition, but because it gave me a platform to share my story and inspire others. I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed, to feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. But I also know the power of determination and a strong work ethic. My journey through track, school, and life outside the classroom has shown me that balance is possible—not because things are always easy, but because purpose makes them worth it.

Growing up in a single-mother household has shaped who I am in every way. My mother is the strongest woman I know—resilient, compassionate, and incredibly hardworking. Watching her sacrifice so much to provide for me instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility, gratitude, and drive. It wasn’t always easy, but the challenges we faced together taught me how to persevere, how to lead, and how to dream big despite obstacles. To help support my mom, I worked two jobs throughout high school. Balancing school, extracurricular activities, and work was demanding, but it taught me discipline and time management. I refused to let our financial struggles define my future. Instead, they became my motivation. Despite my responsibilities, I stayed highly involved in school and the community. I ran track all four years, competing in the 100 and 300-meter hurdles, a sport that taught me mental toughness and the importance of pushing through pain. I was also president of two student clubs, and I completed over 300 hours of community service, which helped me stay grounded and connected to others. Giving back wasn’t just something I had to do—it became something I genuinely cared about. One of the biggest honors of my life was winning the Miss El Paso Teen title. As a model of six years, I’ve always valued self-expression and confidence, but being crowned Miss El Paso Teen gave me a platform to advocate for causes close to my heart. I’ve used this opportunity to speak about issues facing youth, particularly those growing up in single-parent homes or facing economic hardship. I want to be a voice for those who feel like their circumstances limit their potential. Because I’ve lived it—I know that struggle, and I also know that success is possible. In everything I do, I aim to inspire and uplift. My experiences have given me a deep empathy for others, especially young people trying to navigate life with limited resources or support. I plan to continue using my platform as Miss El Paso Teen to mentor and encourage others, sharing my story and helping them see that they are not alone—and that they can succeed, no matter their background. Long-term, I hope to expand my impact by working in fields where I can advocate for underrepresented youth, whether through social work, nonprofit leadership, or community outreach. I believe in turning pain into purpose, and I want to help others turn their challenges into strength, just as I have. Coming from a single-mother household didn’t hold me back—it pushed me forward. It gave me grit, compassion, and an unshakable belief that I am capable of making a difference. And that is exactly what I plan to do.

Living with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) has deeply shaped the way I experience the world, relationships, and even myself. Although it took years to reach a proper diagnosis, the path I’ve traveled—from self-harm and emotional distress to greater self-awareness and healing—has been transformative in many ways. I first sought therapy six years ago, believing I was struggling with depression. I was self-harming and feeling overwhelmed by emotions I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know then that my behaviors were driven by obsessive thoughts, particularly surrounding self-harm. These were not just passing ideas—they were intrusive, persistent, and caused immense anxiety. Over time, through therapy and deeper exploration, I was correctly diagnosed with OCD. Understanding that my thoughts were symptoms of a mental health condition—not reflections of who I am—was one of the first major steps toward healing. A major trigger for my obsessive thoughts has always been my relationship with my father. It’s complicated, and often leaves me feeling like I am not enough. That message—“I’m not enough”—has become a recurring and intrusive thought that gets triggered during even minor inconveniences or perceived failures. I can misplace something, make a small mistake, or feel ignored, and suddenly that familiar refrain begins: “I’m not enough.” It’s exhausting and hard to explain to those who haven’t experienced OCD. These aren’t just thoughts—they feel like emotional earthquakes, shaking my sense of self and safety. Despite the challenges, therapy has been an anchor. Over the past six years, I’ve worked hard to understand my patterns and develop coping strategies. Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) therapy has helped me confront my intrusive thoughts without reacting to them. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) has taught me to challenge and reframe my thinking. Most importantly, I’ve learned to sit with discomfort rather than run from it, and to stop seeing my thoughts as truths. This journey has taught me a lot about resilience. I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear and that setbacks are part of the process. There are still days when the obsessive thoughts feel louder than anything else, and the old feelings of worthlessness creep in. But now, I have tools. I can name what’s happening. I can remind myself: this is OCD talking, not reality. I’ve also learned to reach out for support rather than isolate. Vulnerability, especially when it involves mental health, used to feel like weakness. Now, I see it as strength. Sharing my experiences with trusted friends and my therapist has brought a level of connection and understanding I never thought possible. My OCD hasn’t disappeared—but it no longer defines me. Instead, it has become something I live with, not something I live in fear of. Through years of therapy, self-reflection, and courage, I’ve reclaimed parts of myself that OCD once tried to control. I still have work to do, but I now believe that I am enough—and that belief grows stronger every day.

My mom was Twenty-one with a colicky newborn who wouldn't stop crying and constantly needed to be held by her. I’m sure she was also crying, not for the same reasons but because she knew we had to grow up together. It’s just my mom and I. She's the parent who returned to college to provide a good life for me. While she would do her homework at my grandparents' kitchen table I would sit on her lap and do my own. The amount of work she got done was close to none, but it made me happy so she let me. She’s the parent who's worked two jobs for as long as I can remember. She's a contract-based speech therapist assistant. We live in El Paso which is not a city with money, most people are living close to or on the poverty line. So things got hard for us during the 2016 Medicaid crisis where she lost most of her patients. It wasn't till that time that I realized we struggled as much as we did. I had known we were broke occasionally, but this was when I would start to worry for my mom as she worried for me and I think she knew that too. She’s also the parent that still holds me like I'm that little colicky baby who won't stop crying. I’ve struggled with my mental health for years, I started therapy in the sixth grade for possible depression and anxiety. Though my mom couldn't understand at times and it caused frustration on both ends when I tried to explain my feelings, it never made me stop talking to her about them. She’s the reason I’m able to not spiral after major events or every time I get overwhelmed. She’s my mom and I am her daughter. I'm her daughter who is going to pursue college for her. I’ve known in my heart forever that I'm going to take care of her like she's taken care of me. I tried to achieve so much during high school so I could. I joined sports, and clubs, and became an officer for them with that in the back of my mind. I am her daughter so that's why I now work two jobs. I see how much she does for me and I want to help her. I don't do much mainly because I don't make much either, but whatever she needs help covering I do. The love I've been shown my entire life has led me to want to pass on that same compassion to everyone around me. I plan to get my degree in architecture and create affordable housing, community centers, and safe spaces for those in need. I want to do all this because of how my mother struggled to raise me, and how no one should have to go through that without any support.

My mom was Twenty-one with a colicky newborn who wouldn't stop crying and constantly needed to be held by her. I’m sure she was also crying, not for the same reasons but because she knew we had to grow up together. It’s just my mom and I. She's the parent who returned to college to provide a good life for me. While she would do her homework at my grandparents' kitchen table I would sit on her lap and do my own. The amount of work she got done was close to none, but it made me happy so she let me. She’s the parent who's worked two jobs for as long as I can remember. She's a contract-based speech therapist assistant. We live in El Paso which is not a city with money, most people are living close to or on the poverty line. So things got hard for us during the 2016 Medicaid crisis where she lost most of her patients. It wasn't till that time that I realized we struggled as much as we did. I had known we were broke occasionally, but this was when I would start to worry for my mom as she worried for me and I think she knew that too. She’s also the parent that still holds me like I'm that little colicky baby who won't stop crying. I’ve struggled with my mental health for years, I started therapy in the sixth grade for possible depression and anxiety. Though my mom couldn't understand at times and it caused frustration on both ends when I tried to explain my feelings, it never made me stop talking to her about them. She’s the reason I’m able to not spiral after major events or every time I get overwhelmed. She’s my mom and I am her daughter. I'm her daughter who is going to pursue college for her. I’ve known in my heart forever that I'm going to take care of her like she's taken care of me. I tried to achieve so much during high school so I could. I joined sports, and clubs, and became an officer for them with that in the back of my mind. I am her daughter so that's why I now work two jobs. I see how much she does for me and I want to help her. I don't do much mainly because I don't make much either, but whatever she needs help covering I do. The love I've been shown my entire life has led me to want to pass on that same compassion to everyone around me. I plan to get my degree in architecture and create affordable housing, community centers, and safe spaces for those in need. I want to do all this because of how my mother struggled to raise me, and how no one should have to go through that without any support.

My mom was Twenty-one with a colicky newborn who wouldn't stop crying and constantly needed to be held by her. I’m sure she was also crying, not for the same reasons but because she knew we had to grow up together. She's the parent who returned to college to provide a good life for me. While she would do her homework at my grandparents' kitchen table I would sit on her lap and do my own. She’s the parent who's worked two jobs for as long as I can remember. Times got hard for us during middle school and it was hard going to school every day knowing we were struggling. This was when I would start to worry for my mom as she worried for me. She’s the parent that still holds me like I'm that little colicky baby who won't stop crying. I’ve struggled with my mental health for years with OCD. Though my mom sometimes struggled to understand my feelings, it never stopped me from talking to her. She’s my mom and I am her daughter. I'm her daughter who is going to pursue college for her. I’ve always known I want to care for her as she has for me. Throughout high school, I joined sports and clubs and took on leadership roles with that in mind. I am her daughter and currently juggle two jobs to help her, recognizing the sacrifices she makes for me. Although I don't make much, I contribute anything I have. I need to help around the house so she can enjoy life beyond us. Everything about me and my mom's relationship is because we grew up together. We had no choice but to be ambitious for each other's sake, because no one could take care of us like we could.