I am currently pursuing a dual major in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering at Anderson University. Many ask why I am taking this dual major and more importantly, what, Humanitarian Engineering is. I needed this complementary major because I believe infrastructure should do more than just be functional. It should protect, uplift, and strengthen communities for generations. My field of study empowers me to not only build roads and water systems, but also to be thoughtful towards how construction shapes the lives of those who rely on it every day. My interest in civil engineering began with my fascination for how systems interact with the natural environment. Growing up in rural Pennsylvania, I witnessed the lasting effects of acid mine drainage on our local streams. I realized early on that poor infrastructure can create long term consequences. I wanted to be someone who builds systems that solve problems rather than cause new ones. Humanitarian Engineering has given me purpose to my goals. While Civil Engineering teaches me technical skills, Humanitarian Engineering pushes me to consider how my work affects equity, safety, and access. Engineering is not just about the materials I use or the deadlines I meet, it is about the lives that depend on a safe crossing on a bridge or access to clean water. I hope to use my education to create systems that address pressing global challenges including water insecurity, unsafe housing, and environmental sustainability. Real world experiences have been a significant part of my growth as an engineer. As an intern at PA American Water, I have seen firsthand how essential safety is in every decision and every structure. I have learned that maintenance crews, planners, and engineers must all collaborate to keep both workers and the public safe. Working on this team has shown me how even a small miscalculation can have serious consequences for a whole community. I want to carry this awareness into everything I build. I also had the opportunity to participate in the Power Pittsburgh competition. My team proposed a hydrothermal oxidation plant that would treat wastewater and generate clean energy. Though we placed second, our design prioritized long term safety for the city's people and its environment. The winning team presented a nuclear power plant, focusing on profit over the safety and sustainability of the city. This experience taught me that engineering success should be measured by safety, sustainability, and public trust, not profit. Looking at my future career, I plan to focus on sustainable construction methods that protect both the environment and the people who live and work in those spaces. I want to join projects that rebuild after disaster, create climate resilient infrastructure, and promote access to basic resources like clean water and sanitation. My goal is to become a leader in the engineering field who keeps human-centered design as a main priority. This scholarship would help reduce the financial strain of pursuing a demanding dual major at a private university. It would free up time and resources to deepen my research, pursue fieldwork, and contribute to projects on mission trips. With your support, I will continue learning how to design with intention, build with care, and lead with purpose. I am not just preparing for a career; I am preparing to shape a safe and thoughtful future through my engineering.

They told me to build something to win. I chose to build something that mattered. There was that moment during the PA Governor’s STEM Competition where it wasn’t just about a project, it was a turning point. While some teammates leaned toward a sleek, high-profit product to boost our score in the marketability category, I felt a tension growing in my spirit. We had the talent to impress judges, but I believed we had the opportunity to serve someone, too. I prayed through that tension, and then I spoke up. I asked my team to consider who we were building for, not just what we were building. I wanted to leave behind something that could create access, equity, and healing, even if that meant fewer points on the rubric. That moment wasn’t just a difference in approach. It was a declaration of who I wanted to be. My name is Madison, and I want to construct God's Kingdom through buildings, systems, relationships, and hope. I’m currently studying Civil and Humanitarian Engineering at Anderson University, where I’ve found the perfect balance between structure and service, design and dignity, purpose and people. My path here wasn’t defined by one big moment. It has been shaped by the quiet decision to keep going, to keep caring, and to keep choosing people over profit. Growing up in a small, rural town in Pennsylvania, I never lacked love, but I became deeply aware of what others lacked. I saw how basic needs like clean water or safe housing weren’t distributed equally. That realization didn’t make me bitter. It made me curious. Why were some communities thriving while others were overlooked? That question lit a fire in me, not just to study engineering, but to understand how it could be used for good. I want to design infrastructure that lifts people up, especially those who are often pushed aside. Outside the classroom, I’ve carried that same heart into service. From organizing food drives to volunteering with nonprofits, I’ve learned that real change starts when we stop asking, “What can I gain?” and start asking, “How can I serve?” I don’t want to just be successful. I want to be useful. I want to create systems that make life safer, simpler, and more stable for families I may never meet. But even as I give, I’ve had to navigate my own challenges from managing tuition, balancing responsibilities, and learning to ask for help. I’m not someone with endless resources, but I’ve worked hard to steward what I have. This scholarship would give me the freedom to keep pursuing my mission without sacrificing the quality of my education or the service work I hold dear. Sloane Stephens built something from her values. So am I. Whether I’m drafting a blueprint, leading a project, or listening to someone share their story, I want my life’s work to reflect not just intelligence, but integrity.

Faith has always been the root of how I lead. It guides how I communicate, how I serve, and how I respond when challenges arise. My relationship with God is not something I leave at the door when I step into a leadership role. It is the very foundation of how I try to show up for others with humility, compassion, and a heart that seeks to build, not control. One of the biggest lessons faith has taught me about leadership is that it is not about being in charge. It is about being accountable to the people I lead and being open to growth myself. In my Scholar as Servant Leader class, my teacher shared her favorite bible verse Philippians 2:3–4, we are called to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.” I try to carry that attitude into every group I’m a part of whether I’m serving as a team lead for a volunteer event or guiding fellow students during a group project. A time that stands out to me was during the PA Governor’s STEM Competition, where student teams are challenged to research, design, and present a device that improves the quality of life for Pennsylvanians by solving real-world problems. While my team initially focused on creating a profitable product to score well in the marketability category, I felt strongly that we were missing the heart of the challenge. The competition emphasizes community-centered design, collaboration, and practical impact—not just innovation for profit1. After praying and reflecting, I shared my perspective with the group. I explained that I would rather use our project to make a meaningful difference than win based on financial gain alone. I spoke with conviction but also with care, and to my surprise, the team listened. We shifted our focus to a solution that prioritized sustainability and service. That moment taught me that faith-led leadership is not about overpowering others. It is about standing firm in your values, trusting God to guide your words, and leading with both courage and compassion. Since then, I’ve carried that same mindset into every part of my life. Whether I am leading a service project, organizing a study group, or mentoring younger students, I lead by serving. My vision for the future is to become a humanitarian engineer who combines technical skill with compassion. I want to design systems that meet basic needs while also restoring dignity to underserved communities. I want my leadership to be a reflection of God’s love which is strong, patient, and always centered on others. This scholarship would help me continue pursuing that calling. But more importantly, it would affirm that faith has a place in leadership, not just as a personal belief, but as a powerful force for good in the world. I do not lead because I have all the answers. I lead because I trust the One who does.

My name is Madison, and I believe that real impact starts with the work we do when no one is watching. That belief has grown through hours of community volunteering, a deep appreciation for craftsmanship, and a commitment to learning how to build systems—both literal and social, that serve others. Growing up, I was drawn to working with my hands. Whether I was building LEGO structures that emphasized function and stability or helping assemble supply kits for families in need, I learned early on that creating something useful is one of the most powerful forms of care. Every project, no matter how small, became a way to make someone’s day better, safer, or easier. That mindset is what led me to study Civil and Humanitarian Engineering. I wanted to learn how to design and build infrastructure that uplifts lives, especially in under-resourced communities. But it was my time volunteering that truly shaped how I see that work in action. From food drives to community cleanups to organizing disaster relief materials, I’ve witnessed how small acts, done consistently and with care, can ripple out to create real change. These experiences taught me that service and craftsmanship go hand in hand. When we build with intention, when we serve with our hands and hearts, we do more than fix problems. We create belonging and restore dignity. In that way, I feel deeply aligned with the legacy of David Hinsdale. His story reminded me of the people I most look up to, those who work without pretense, who show up day after day, and who offer their time and trade to help others grow. I want my future to reflect those same values. Whether I’m designing safe water systems, helping a neighbor repair storm damage, or mentoring young students in STEM, I want my hands-on work to strengthen the community around me. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden of my education while empowering me to continue building hands-on, community-based solutions. I am not afraid of long hours or hard work. I am not looking for shortcuts. Like Mr. Hinsdale, I believe in quality, in effort, and in passing down knowledge to anyone willing to learn. I may be learning in classrooms now, but I never forget that the ultimate goal is practical service. I want to be the kind of person who brings both compassion and craftsmanship into every space I enter. I want my career to reflect my convictions that good work speaks for itself, that generosity matters, and that our legacy is written in the lives we lift up.

I am a student of Civil and Humanitarian Engineering, a discipline that teaches how to design systems with integrity and build infrastructure that serves human dignity. But long before I chose that major, I was already searching for ways to meet people where they were and help in ways that matter. Volunteering gave me that foundation. Over the past few years, I have been involved in a variety of volunteer efforts that helped shape my values and purpose. I have served meals to families experiencing homelessness, packed hygiene kits for disaster relief, and tutored children who were falling behind in school. I have organized food drives and worked with local non-profits to deliver supplies to underserved areas. Each experience taught me something different, patience, humility, adaptability, but they all shared a common thread: the power of education and access. I saw how education could open doors, restore confidence, and change outcomes. That belief is now at the heart of everything I do. What I love about engineering is that it is both creative and practical. It requires strategy, empathy, and a deep understanding of how systems affect everyday life. In many of the communities I’ve served, poor infrastructure limits opportunity. Contaminated water leads to illness, which keeps children out of school. Unreliable electricity makes it difficult for students to complete homework. Unsafe housing turns every storm into a disaster. These problems are not just technical challenges, they are barriers to learning and thriving. Through my education, I want to help change that. I plan to work in partnership with local organizations, engineers, and community leaders to develop systems that are not only innovative but also inclusive and accessible. My long-term goal is to design and implement sustainable infrastructure that prioritizes the needs of marginalized communities. I want to help build schools with safe water, housing that can withstand disasters, and public systems that promote stability. I do not want to build in spite of people, I want to build with them, side by side. Education, for me, has been a doorway to discovery and calling. I am not just studying formulas and blueprints. I am learning how to listen, how to lead with purpose, and how to serve with my hands and mind. Each class builds on a mission that began in volunteer work and continues through my career goals. The same heart that led me to wrap presents for children in crisis or spend weekends cleaning up public spaces is the heart I bring into design labs and internships. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue my education with greater focus and financial stability. More importantly, it would affirm that the work I am doing matters. It would encourage me to keep pursuing a path that puts people first and proves that education, when paired with compassion, can truly transform lives.

I am worth the dreams I aspire to achieve because they are not dreams, I chase alone. They are part of a larger purpose, one shaped by my faith and my relationship with God. I believe He gave me these passions not just to fulfill my own goals, but to use them in service of something greater, His kingdom and His people. For me, success is not about climbing to the top. It is about lifting others as I grow. That mindset is rooted in my understanding of God's love, generous, just, and radically compassionate. I see my education and my skills as blessings, and with them comes responsibility. My dream is to become a humanitarian engineer who creates systems that provide clean water, safe housing, and resilience in the face of disaster. This is more than a career path. It is a mission. It is how I live out the values God calls me to embody acts of service, stewardship, and love. I do not come from extraordinary wealth or influence, but I know I live a life rich in grace, opportunity, and direction. I have seen what it looks like when people go without the essentials. I have volunteered in communities where structural barriers keep families stuck in cycles of need. And while I do not face that same struggle every day, I carry their stories in my heart. My lower-middle-class perspective has taught me empathy, my opportunities have taught me gratitude, and my faith has taught me that we are not here to look away. We are here to care. Building a relationship with God has been a journey, one with many quiet steps and honest questions. I have come to know Him not just through Sunday sermons but through the people He’s placed around me and the experiences He’s allowed me to grow through. Each time I use my gifts to help others, whether through tutoring, organizing service projects, or designing infrastructure that protects public health, I feel closer to His calling on my life. This scholarship would not just help with tuition. It would allow me to step more fully into that calling. It would reduce the financial pressure I carry as a student and give me space to dive deeper into service and applied research. More than anything, it would remind me that the work I do matters to others, and that my voice as a woman of faith and action belongs in the spaces where change happens. I know that I am not perfect. I do not always feel equipped. But I know that God equips those who are willing, and I am willing. I will keep learning. I will keep building. I will keep seeking Him in every step. I am worth the dreams I am chasing because I am using them to love well, to serve boldly, and to carry light into the places that need it. That, I believe, is a life worth building.

Calculus is more than a mathematical subject. It is a way of thinking that teaches us how to model, analyze, and solve problems in a world that is constantly changing. In STEM fields, understanding change and accumulation is essential, and calculus provides the tools to do both with precision and purpose. In engineering, calculus is used to design safe structures, optimize systems, and model real-world processes. As a Civil and Humanitarian Engineering student, I have seen firsthand how foundational calculus is. Whether I am analyzing fluid dynamics in water pipelines or determining structural loads for resilient housing, calculus forms the bridge between theory and application. It ensures that the infrastructure I help design is not only functional, but also efficient, sustainable, and safe for generations to come. In my Calculus II course, I worked on a project that brought this connection to life. Without using any computers, we were tasked with designing a mechanical integrator that could represent a definite integral through motion or force. At first, it felt nearly impossible. How could we replicate a concept so grounded in mathematics using only physical components? That challenge pushed me to think differently. We had to translate mathematical reasoning into mechanical strategy, and in doing so, I gained a new appreciation for how calculus underlies not just theoretical models, but real systems and functional tools. Our team’s design consisted of a sphere mounted on a rod that could slide horizontally across various diameters of a spinning disk. This setup visually represented the ball’s velocity over time by demonstrating its displacement along the disk’s surface. This hands-on experience taught me that calculus is not confined to a whiteboard. It can be shaped into gears, pulleys, and motion, making it both a creative and analytical discipline. It helped me see mathematics in motion, fully alive and applicable. My internship at PA American Water has also shown me that calculus is more than abstract equations. It plays a vital role in environmental systems. I have applied it to monitor flow rates, measure system pressures, and model variables that directly affect public health. These are not just technical calculations. They are steps toward protecting clean water access and improving lives. In this way, calculus becomes not only a skill but a responsibility that informs ethical engineering. Beyond technical application, calculus strengthens our ability to lead. It teaches patience, adaptability, and precision. These are traits that are crucial for future innovators. In humanitarian engineering, where every decision carries social and environmental weight, those qualities help create equitable systems instead of one-size-fits-all solutions. I believe that problem-solvers who understand how change works, both mathematically and socially, are best equipped to make real impact. In this sense, calculus connects us to something larger than numbers. It connects us to people. Ultimately, calculus empowers us to understand the world with clarity and act with purpose. It teaches problem-solving, critical thinking, and resilience, skills that extend far beyond the math classroom. For anyone pursuing STEM, calculus is not just important. It is essential. This scholarship would help me continue exploring those connections through research, service, and coursework, so I can keep using math to build systems that serve and uplift communities.

At first glance, Wicked is a dazzling musical full of magic, wit, and unforgettable music. But beneath the color and spectacle lies a powerful story about class, power, and resistance. What made me fall in love with Wicked was not just Elphaba’s voice soaring in “Defying Gravity,” but the way the show holds up a mirror to real-world systems of inequality. To me, the animals in Wicked represent marginalized communities, those who are voiceless, underrepresented, or pushed to the edges by people in power. They are intelligent, capable, and compassionate, but slowly silenced by a government that masks oppression as order. This storyline hit close to home. I come from a middle-class family. I have not experienced systemic oppression directly, but I have seen it. I have volunteered in communities where people’s voices are routinely dismissed and their basic needs unmet. I live in a neighborhood where some have much and some have little, and I have learned that privilege is a spectrum, not a binary. Like Elphaba, I have found myself navigating two worlds, one where I am empowered through education and opportunity, and one where I recognize that many around me do not have the same tools to succeed. Elphaba does not have Glinda’s glamor or social standing, but she has the ability to see injustice and the courage to act. That is what I connect to most deeply. I may not hold political power or vast wealth, but I have chosen a career that allows me to stand up for what is right in a tangible way. As a Civil and Humanitarian Engineering student, my mission is to design infrastructure that serves underserved communities, clean water systems, sustainable housing, and disaster-resilient development. These are systems that should be guaranteed for all, but in reality are often reserved for those with privilege. My work aims to change that. I want to create systems that give voice, safety, and opportunity to those often left behind, much like Elphaba tries to do for the Animals of Oz. Wicked reminds me that bravery is not always loud or perfect. It is often misunderstood. But it is necessary. And for me, engineering is not just a skillset. It is my way of resisting complacency and rewriting what is “popular” to align more closely with what is just. Like Elphaba, I will never stop reaching toward the future even if the world calls it defiance.

The first time I heard Sabrina Carpenter’s “Thumbs,” I was struck by how smart and unexpected it was. It wasn’t just catchy, it carried a message. With layered lyrics like “somewhere in the world, they’ve got a rubber band on their hand” and “they’re just stuck in the rhythm,” the song reveals how easy it is to fall into patterns that repeat endlessly without questioning them. It challenged me to ask myself "do I want to follow routine, or do I want to choose something intentional?" As a Civil and Humanitarian Engineering student, that question is at the heart of everything I’m working toward. My field is about building infrastructure that meets human needs, clean water, safe housing, sustainable systems, but doing it in a way that breaks cycles of neglect and disparity. Just like “Thumbs” points out how people get caught in systems without realizing it, I see how communities are too often trapped by broken systems, from outdated water lines to disaster-prone housing that’s never rebuilt. “Thumbs” made me more aware of how much agency we actually have. It helped me realize that my career is not just about mastering formulas or perfecting structures. It’s about choosing to build something different than what came before. I don’t want to just maintain a system. I want to transform it. Sabrina’s boldness in that track inspired me during key moments of doubt, especially when I chose a major that’s not well-known and often male-dominated. Watching her grow from her Disney Channel roots into a genre-defying artist taught me that evolution is not only possible, it’s powerful. Her refusal to stay in one lane, to keep pushing boundaries, is what I carry with me every time I speak up in class, submit an unconventional idea in a design challenge, or advocate for solutions that may be more expensive upfront but safer and more sustainable long term. “Thumbs” helped me realize that I don’t want to just sit and let the rhythm take me. I want to be part of reshaping it and that’s exactly what humanitarian engineering allows me to do.

One technology that inspires me is hydrothermal oxidation, a process that converts wastewater into clean water and energy. It may not sound glamorous, but this method has the power to transform how we manage sanitation and resource scarcity across the world. In a time where billions of people still lack access to safe water, hydrothermal oxidation offers a sustainable, science-driven path forward. As a Civil and Humanitarian Engineering student, I see this technology as more than a mechanical process. It is a tool that can protect the environment, prevent disease, and empower communities. It uses principles from thermodynamics and chemical reaction engineering to break down pollutants and safely recover water and energy from waste. With further development and investment, this system could be deployed in areas affected by natural disasters, refugee camps, or underserved rural regions. Its ability to create clean, usable outputs from materials most would discard inspires me to rethink how engineering solutions can restore life rather than just manage problems. This technology has directly influenced my academic and career goals. I plan to use my education to design sustainable infrastructure for communities that have long been overlooked. Whether it is through clean water pipelines, disaster-resilient housing, or renewable energy systems, I believe women in technology have a crucial role in shaping safer, smarter, and more compassionate solutions. Hydrothermal oxidation symbolizes the kind of innovation I want to champion, one that addresses urgent needs with environmental and social responsibility at its core. As a woman in STEM, I know representation matters. Technology must reflect the diversity of the world it aims to improve. I want to stand among the next generation of female engineers who do not just build, but who listen, lead, and make a lasting difference. With support from this scholarship, I will be better equipped to complete my degree, participate in hands-on research, and share these solutions with the communities that need them most. Hydrothermal oxidation has already changed how I view engineering. I hope to use it, and innovations like it, to help change the world.

In Chapter Two of Real Insights, John Graff emphasizes the importance of building trust as the foundation of any lasting success. Whether in real estate or in my future career of engineering, Graff’s core message rings true: relationships are more valuable than transactions, and long-term impact begins with honesty, clarity, and empathy. These are not just business strategies. They are leadership principles that shape communities, influence careers, and define how we serve others. As a student of Civil and Humanitarian Engineering, I am drawn to infrastructure because it affects everyone, yet often reflects the disparities between who is protected and who is left behind. I want to design systems that don’t just function, but restore. Whether I am developing clean water pipelines, sustainable housing, or flood-resistant roads, my work will only be as impactful as the trust it earns from the people it is meant to serve. I learned early on, especially during my internship with American Water, that sound engineering is not only about calculations. It is about listening to community needs, communicating clearly, and taking responsibility when things do not go as planned. Graff’s words about transparency resonated deeply with me. In the Power Pittsburgh competition, my team presented a hydrothermal oxidation system that prioritized long-term safety over short-term profits. While we did not win, I stood by our design because it put people and the environment first. In that moment, I realized I was not just learning engineering. I was learning stewardship, how to lead with integrity even when others are drawn to the bottom line. This scholarship would allow me to keep walking that path. As an out-of-state student at a private Christian college, I am working, applying for aid, and making tough choices every semester to stay enrolled. Your support would not only help me afford tuition but also give me space to pursue internships, mission-based service projects, and applied research in infrastructure design. I am committed to building systems that promote access, safety, and dignity. But just as important, I want to model the kind of leadership Graff describes, accountable, relational, and grounded in purpose. The future of engineering is not just about materials and machines. It is about trust. And I believe the most meaningful structures are those built with people in mind, sustained by honest work, and shaped by service. With your help, I hope to become not just a builder of systems, but a builder of lasting impact.

Faith has been the steady guide of my life, shaping not only who I am but also the direction of my goals and the purpose behind them. It has not always been a straight path. I grew up attending church regularly, surrounded by a community that prioritized kindness, commitment, and service. But over time, faith became more of a rhythm than a relationship. Then, during the COVID-19 pandemic, my family stopped going to church, and I didn’t return even after the world began to reopen. In the quiet that followed, I realized how much I missed that spiritual connection. I missed the grounding, the clarity, and the sense of belonging I found in my relationship with Christ. That absence drew me to seek Him more intentionally. What began as uncertainty eventually turned into a journey of rediscovery. I started to pray and ask difficult questions, the kind I used to avoid. Through that search, I found a faith that was no longer borrowed, but personal. I realized that God is not distant or rigid. He meets us where we are and invites us into something real. That truth has transformed my life, especially in how I view education, service, and my future. Now a student at Anderson University, a Christian college where spiritual formation is part of every classroom, I have found a space where my faith and academic goals work together. I am pursuing a dual major in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering because I believe my calling is to use science and technology to serve communities in need. Whether I am designing clean water systems for towns that lack access or building sustainable housing in places affected by disaster, I want my work to reflect Christ’s love for people. Faith reminds me that the talents and knowledge I am gaining are not just for my own success. They are meant to be shared. Luke 3:11 says, “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none,” and I believe that includes sharing my education, skills, and efforts. I hope to bring that mindset into every project I complete—treating each task not only as a technical challenge but as an opportunity to restore dignity, stability, and health to others. Several key influences have encouraged me to pursue higher education. My father, a teacher at a Title I school, showed me from a young age what service and sacrifice look like. I watched him work late, spend his own money on supplies, and speak life into students that others overlooked. His quiet dedication inspired me to seek out a field where I could make a meaningful difference using the gifts God gave me. I also saw the impact of environmental challenges in my own community, such as acid mine drainage in our waterways. These moments pushed me to pursue a career where I could take action—not just talk about problems, but help solve them. Faith continues to carry me through the difficulties of this journey. Balancing a challenging major, working to afford tuition, and stepping into unfamiliar spaces often feels overwhelming. But prayer keeps me grounded. I am reminded that I am not walking alone. God has led me this far, and I trust He will keep leading me as I step into leadership roles that combine compassion with innovation. Receiving this scholarship would lighten the financial stress of continuing my education while empowering me to take on more research, internships, and service projects. It would also be an encouragement—a reminder that there are others who see the value of this path, who believe in building a better world through faith-filled leadership. I carry the legacy of those like Patricia Lindsey and Eva Mae Jackson with deep respect. Their commitment to uplifting others, serving their communities, and leading with integrity is exactly the kind of life I hope to live. I am building toward a future where faith is not an afterthought. It is the very foundation.

My name is Madison, and I am pursuing a dual major in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering at Anderson University, a Christian college where faith and learning are deeply intertwined. This path allows me to combine scientific problem-solving with a mission to serve communities through infrastructure that protects public health, restores dignity, and reflects the compassion of Christ. I chose to attend a faith-based college because I believe education should go beyond textbooks and exams. I wanted to study in a place where prayer is welcome in the classroom, where Scripture is woven into lessons, and where students are challenged to live out their calling both intellectually and spiritually. At Anderson, I have found a community that shares this vision. Being part of this environment has strengthened my walk with Christ and clarified how I can use my gifts to serve others. My major might not be common, but it meets a real need. Humanitarian Engineering focuses on designing infrastructure that supports communities facing poverty, environmental challenges, or disaster recovery. Whether I am developing clean water systems, building sustainable housing, or restoring ecosystems affected by pollution, every part of my academic training is centered on using science to solve problems and uplift people. My goal is to bring engineering solutions to areas where access, resources, and stability are limited. While I am grateful for the academic growth I have experienced, attending a private university out of state comes with a financial burden. I have taken on part-time work, applied for numerous scholarships, and carefully managed my budget to continue pursuing this calling. Even with all of that, the cost of tuition, housing, and fees often stretches beyond what I can comfortably afford. Receiving this scholarship would help alleviate some of that strain and allow me to focus more fully on research, service opportunities, and continued spiritual development. This scholarship would also support my ongoing work outside the classroom. I have served as an engineering intern with PA American Water, where I learned how water systems affect community safety and health. I have seen firsthand how small design decisions carry lasting consequences, and how crucial it is to prioritize safety and sustainability from the very beginning. I have participated in research teams, community-based STEM programs, and mission-focused design projects, all experiences that have sharpened my sense of purpose. I believe that Christ has called each of us to meet people where they are and to use what we have to serve others. For me, that means becoming an engineer who brings both technical expertise and spiritual care to the communities I support. The verse from Esther 4:14, “For such a time as this,” reminds me that there is a reason I am here, studying what I do, in this season. I am not just working toward a degree. I am preparing to make an impact. Thank you for considering my application. Your support would help me carry this mission forward and continue growing as both a student and a servant leader in the field of faith-driven engineering.

My journey into Christianity wasn’t a single lightning bolt moment. It was a quiet, winding road that led me to seek not just a belief system, but a relationship. I grew up in a small-town Presbyterian church in rural Pennsylvania, where faith was steady and familiar. Sunday mornings were filled with hymns, sermons, and pews that held generations of my family. I remember hearing Luke 3:11: “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none…” I did not fully understand it at the time, but even as a child I sensed it was not just a suggestion. It was a way of life. It would take time before I truly understood what it meant to share more than just material things, to share my purpose, my time, and my abilities in service of something greater than myself. For a while, church became more of a ritual than a relationship. Then came the pandemic. When COVID-19 shut down much of the world, my family stopped attending church. At first, I didn’t mind. I thought of it as a temporary pause. But even after churches reopened, I didn’t go back. I told myself I was too busy or that I didn’t need to sit in a pew to believe. But over time, I noticed something missing. Without church and without spiritual rhythm, I felt untethered. Not just from tradition, but from God. That absence created hunger. Not for religion, but for relationship. I realized I had never fully taken hold of my faith as my own. I had heard the gospel countless times, but now I wanted to live it, to test it, to experience it. I began reading Scripture with fresh eyes, praying not out of obligation but out of longing, and asking hard questions about suffering, creation, purpose, and eternity. What I found wasn’t condemnation but invitation. I found a God who welcomed questions, who met me in doubt, and who gently called me toward deeper trust. That desire to live a life of faith shaped my academic choices. I wanted to attend a university where God wasn’t sidelined to Sunday but infused into every aspect of life, including the sciences. That is why I chose Anderson University, a place where Christian faith and STEM education are not seen as opposites but as partners. Here I have been mentored by professors who pray before engineering lectures and who point out the precision of the universe not only as physics, but also as evidence of a Creator. This environment did not just support my faith. It deepened it. It also clarified my calling. I am pursuing a dual major in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering. While some engineers pursue efficiency or profit, I am pursuing people. I want to use my technical knowledge to bring clean water, safe housing, and reliable energy to communities in need, both here and abroad. I am also passionate about teaching and would love to create programs that equip small communities to maintain and manage their own systems after implementation, empowering them rather than creating dependency. One of the technologies I am most passionate about is hydrothermal oxidation, a science-based solution that converts wastewater into clean water, energy, and reusable materials. It is sustainable, practical, and powerful, but vastly underused in low-income regions. I hope to change that. This commitment to science-led service is not theoretical. It is already taking shape. I currently work as an engineering intern at PA American Water, where I have learned how infrastructure impacts public health on a daily basis. I have seen the safety protocols that protect not only the workers, but also the communities they serve. I have developed a respect for the detail and diligence required to manage water systems that most people never even think about. PA American Water has shown me that excellence in engineering is not only about innovation. It is about stewardship. I have also taken part in STEM competitions and collaborative design projects where ethical decision-making was tested in real ways. At the 2024 Power Pittsburgh competition, my team proposed a hydrothermal oxidation system for the city, an environmentally safe and long-term solution to waste and energy challenges. We placed second to a team whose nuclear power plant design offered higher profit projections, even though it posed far greater environmental risk. The judges, mostly businessmen, favored short-term financial return over long-term safety. That moment was disheartening, but it also strengthened my resolve. I realized that in many corners of the industry, profit is too often prioritized over safety. I do not just want to be an engineer. I want to be one who refuses to compromise on safety, sustainability, or service. That commitment is rooted in my faith. From constructing a well on a mission trip to overseeing a large-scale commercial water system project, I see engineering as a sacred calling. Every pipeline I design, every home I help build, is an opportunity to reflect God’s care for His people. As Christians, we are called to serve “the least of these,” and I want to use my education to do exactly that. Whether I am working in a rural Appalachian town or across the globe in a refugee settlement, I want my designs to bring restoration, to ecosystems, to families, and to dignity. My long-term goal is to work with nonprofit organizations and humanitarian engineering firms that partner with underserved communities to co-create infrastructure that meets real needs. Even if I must start in a commercial engineering firm, I will bring the Lord with me and spread His Word into that career. I hope to eventually lead design teams, manage sustainable development projects, and mentor younger engineers who want to blend faith and technical excellence. This scholarship would be more than financial relief. It would be a vote of confidence in my calling. As an out-of-state student at a private university pursuing a dual major, the costs are significant. I have been working as a server, budgeting carefully, and seeking every opportunity to apply what I am learning through internships and mission trips. With your support, I could invest more fully in those hands-on experiences without sacrificing time or mental energy to constant financial stress. I also carry this scholarship with a sense of spiritual responsibility. Pastor Thomas Rorie Jr.'s legacy reminds me that faith, kindness, and service leave lasting imprints on the world. I want to carry that kind of legacy forward. Not through sermons, but through structures. Not just with words, but with water systems, bridges, and buildings that restore what is broken and lift up those who have been left behind. My future plans are clear. I want to become a humanitarian engineer who designs with compassion, leads with integrity, and builds for the Kingdom of God. I hope to travel and serve. I want every project I touch to be a reflection of the gospel I believe in, not only in words, but through action. This scholarship will help make that future possible. It will help me become not only the engineer I am called to be, but also the servant God has equipped me to become.

Innovation can transform lives, but only when it’s built on a foundation of safety. That’s why I’m pursuing a degree in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering, to design sustainable infrastructure that protects both people and the planet. My vision is to create systems that uplift communities without putting their health, homes, or futures at risk. My passion for environmental safety began when I learned about acid mine drainage in Pennsylvania and saw how contaminated runoff can damage ecosystems and limit access to clean water. That early exposure opened my eyes to the long-term consequences of poorly managed infrastructure. It’s not just about faulty design, it’s about communities losing access to life-sustaining resources. I realized that safety doesn’t start with a warning sign; it starts at the blueprint. I realized that many in the industry often prioritize profit over safety. At the 2024 Power Pittsburgh competition, my team presented a hydrothermal oxidation system designed to turn wastewater into clean energy, prioritizing environmental safety and long-term community health. Although we placed second, the winning team’s proposal centered on building a nuclear power plant directly within the city of Pittsburgh. The judges, primarily businessmen, favored their projected profit margins despite the potential environmental hazards and public safety concerns. Our system had higher upfront costs but far lower long-term risk, with built-in safety measures and environmental cleanup benefits. That experience solidified my belief that innovation should never come at the expense of people or ecosystems. Safety must guide every design choice, not just because it’s responsible, but because it builds trust, stability, and a future worth investing in. Now, through my coursework and my internship with PA American Water, I’ve come to understand how deeply safety is woven into every layer of responsible engineering. PA American Water has taught me that safety isn’t something you consider at the end of a project, it’s a value that drives every step, from planning and design to operation and maintenance. Every day, I see professionals modeling what it means to take care of the communities they serve and the teams they work alongside. That means rigorous environmental testing, employee safety protocols, and contingency planning that ensures resilience, not just compliance. As I prepare for my career, I want to carry that same mindset forward. Whether I’m designing low-cost water filtration systems or developing innovative housing technologies, I want every solution I build to account for risk, durability, and long-term community wellbeing. My focus is on environmental safety for the people who rely on these systems and physical safety for the people who build and maintain them. Humanitarian engineering may not be a common major, but it’s exactly where I’m meant to be. It sits at the intersection of science, sustainability, and social impact. And in that space, I want to be a leader, someone who doesn’t just bring new ideas into the world, but ensures those ideas are responsibly executed, culturally appropriate, and safe for generations to come. This scholarship would directly support my ability to continue that mission. As an out-of-state student at a private university, managing tuition while pursuing hands-on learning opportunities can be a challenge. Your support would ease that burden and allow me to deepen my work in environmental systems design, safety testing, and sustainability research. In a world that often celebrates speed and profit over substance, I want to be the kind of innovator who never forgets that safety is impact. Real progress doesn’t leave a mess behind, it clears a path forward. With your support, I’ll continue building systems that are bold in their vision and unwavering in their responsibility to others.

When people think of science, they often picture laboratories or clinical settings. But I see science in clean drinking water, in affordable housing, and in technologies that uplift communities out of poverty. That’s why I’m pursuing a degree in Civil and Humanitarian Engineering, a field that often makes people pause, because it’s not widely known. But it’s exactly where I’m meant to be. This major sits at the intersection of science, service, and sustainability, allowing me to use scientific innovation as a tool for healing, restoration, and global equity. My passion for this career began with something close to home, the polluted streams affected by acid mine drainage in rural Pennsylvania. Seeing the bright, orange-stained rocks and learning how this damage impacts wildlife and limits access to safe water made me realize just how deeply environmental science touches every part of our lives. I knew I wanted to dedicate myself to solving those problems, not just for our local community, but globally. As I explored engineering, I was drawn not only to the math and science behind designing systems but also to the way infrastructure can change lives. Access to clean water, reliable power, and safe housing isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity. And in many places, those systems are broken or never existed. That’s why I’m learning how to apply scientific principles to develop sustainable technologies like hydrothermal oxidation, which converts waste into clean water and renewable energy. It’s a perfect example of how scientific innovation can solve two problems at once, waste management and water scarcity, while offering opportunity to underserved communities. Through my education at Anderson University, I’ve begun putting this passion into action. I currently work as an engineering intern at PA American Water, gaining real-world experience in how water systems are designed and maintained. I’ve also led community-based STEM projects and research teams focused on energy sustainability. Each opportunity deepens my belief that science isn’t just something we study, it’s something we live out, especially when it’s used to lift others up. This scholarship would relieve some of the financial stress that comes with pursuing a dual major at an out-of-state private university. I’ve worked hard to earn academic scholarships, budget carefully, and balance my time between studies, work, and service, but the cost of higher education still looms large. With your support, I’ll be able to direct more energy toward hands-on learning experiences, international service work, and research opportunities that will prepare me for a career of impact. Ultimately, I want to build a future where science is not confined to labs, but brought directly to the people who need it most. Whether through designing low-cost water filtration systems or helping communities build resilient infrastructure after disaster, I want my work to reflect both technical skill and compassion. This scholarship will help me get there.

Legacy is often painted as what we inherit, family names, traditions, well-worn paths. But sometimes, legacy is about what we choose to step away from, so that something new and necessary can be built. My family has lived in the same small town in rural Pennsylvania for generations. It’s a place where roads are familiar, stories are passed down at church potlucks, and leaving, especially far, isn’t common. My father is a teacher at our local Title I school, dedicating his life to uplifting students from low-income families. Watching him pour into others, often quietly and sacrificially, showed me the values I wanted to bring into my legacy. My father once ventured to Anderson University in Indiana, drawn by possibility, but returned home after one semester, homesick and financially strained. Now, years later, I walk the same halls he once did, but with new purpose, determination, and support systems that are helping me stay. When I first committed to Anderson University to study Civil and Humanitarian Engineering, many in my community were surprised. Some asked how long it would take before I gave in and transferred home. Others were baffled that I hadn't yet felt the tug of homesickness strong enough to return. But what they don’t always see is that stepping away from what’s comfortable has allowed me to grow in ways that staying never could. I chose Humanitarian Engineering because I want my career to serve others, across borders, cultures, and needs. To build clean water systems in underserved areas, to design sustainable housing with communities, not just for them. I can’t do that work effectively if I’m afraid to leave home or try something unfamiliar. My upbringing taught me loyalty, rootedness, and love of community, but if I’d followed that tradition without question, I wouldn’t be where I am now. I have gained opportunities to work as an engineering intern at PA American Water, to attend a mission trip with my university’s engineering team, and to research technologies like hydrothermal oxidation to reduce global poverty. Breaking the cycle of staying doesn’t mean leaving my family behind, it means extending our values and communities farther. To me, legacy means leaving something better than you found it, not just physically, but spiritually and generationally. It means carving out room for growth where others saw only limits. My parents’ story laid the foundation from their sacrifices, their honesty about struggles, their deep connection to our hometown. But my story continues the legacy by carrying their grit into new territories. I want future students in my family, or my community, to look at my path and see what’s possible when faith and ambition hold hands. This journey hasn’t been easy. I’ve questioned whether I’m too far, too different, too ambitious. But each time I doubt, I’m reminded that legacies aren’t always inherited, they’re cultivated. One bold step, drive, or flight, at a time. I plan to continue breaking this cycle by not only pursuing global service opportunities but by mentoring others, especially small-town students like me, who feel torn between familiarity and growth. Through engineering, I want to build systems that heal, uplift, and empower. Through my life, I want to show that home is something you carry with you, it doesn’t have to confine you. In honoring my past while reaching toward the unknown, I hope my legacy becomes one that empowers others to do the same. Because sometimes, the most lasting impact isn’t in staying where you are, but in having the courage to go, and bring your roots with you.

When I was a child sitting in the pews of my small-town Presbyterian church, I heard Luke 3:11 for the first time, “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none…” That message of generosity lingered with me. As I grew, I came to see engineering not just as a career path, but as a way to live out that verse, the ability to use the gifts God gave me to serve others and build systems that reflect His love for creation. My long-term goal is to become a humanitarian engineer specializing in infrastructure that addresses global poverty. I want to develop sustainable technologies like hydrothermal oxidation, piezoelectric energy systems, and 3D-printed housing to bring clean water, electricity, and shelter to communities in need. This isn’t just about engineering elegant and new solutions. It’s about restoring dignity to those who have been overlooked and forgotten, showing them they are seen, valued, and worthy of care. The values that drive me are rooted in both my faith and my upbringing. I believe God calls each of us to steward the earth and serve our neighbors, not only through acts of kindness, but through intentional, skilled work. Engineering is my toolset, but service is my calling. That’s why I chose to attend Anderson University, a place where scientific inquiry and spiritual growth are deeply intertwined. Here, I’m challenged to explore the tensions between faith and fact, and to ask tough questions including "Can a follower of Christ accept evolution?" or "How do we honor biblical truths while engaging in evidence-based disciplines?" For me, faith and science are not at odds. Rather, I see my growing knowledge as a form of worship, an exploration of the mind of a Creator who designed a universe with breathtaking precision. Just as AI evolves to optimize itself, perhaps humanity too was made to adapt, to grow, and to steward the world over time. I may never fully grasp the origins of life, but I trust that God calls me to be faithful in how I use mine. In the coming years, I hope to lead engineering projects that center the needs of vulnerable populations, starting with my internship at PA American Water, the mission trip with my Engineering Class at Anderson University, and the research I've completed in my teens, and eventually expanding to fieldwork in underserved communities both locally and abroad through my career. Whether I’m designing water filtration systems or writing grants for sustainable housing, my mission will remain the same. I use my education and experiences not just to succeed, but to serve. Ultimately, I want my life’s work to reflect the same generosity I was taught in church all those years ago. I want to be the engineer who builds for more than profit or prestige, someone who builds bridges, both literal and spiritual, between science and faith, privilege and poverty, human effort and divine purpose.

Combining both aspects of my life as a Christian and future engineer confuses and frustrates me. I've been informed that to be a Christian I must dismiss evolution as an explanation for the creation of life, hold that the Bible is the completely accurate Word of God, and believe creationism is the way the world was formed. Being an engineer, I follow scientific facts to make analyses. I constantly battle spiritual warfare. I want to love God and the gifts He has given me, but do I dishonor Him through my doubts I create from scientific data. Last year, I began my journey with God. It may be my curse or blessing that I make decisions and beliefs on factual evidence, which is the opposite of blind faith of Christians. I am attending Anderson University, a Word of God University, for a dual major of Civil and Humanitarian Engineering. I loved this university for many reasons including exploring and growing in my faith, which the professors incorporate into their classrooms even in STEM courses. I hope to gain the information I need to give my full faithfulness towards God. I may be wrong in my thought process of how the world started but I am putting myself in a community that will guide me. So, if humans can make Artificial Intelligence that can evolve to make the most efficient versions of themselves, what is the difference to say that God made Adam and Eve in his image; and ever evolving intelligence. Humanity could have started as monkeys but God had his plan for the people we’d become today and into the future. Could he have made us evolving creatures to last the passing and changing of the times? And to address even the possibility of God existing, Sheldon Cooper from the show Young Sheldon sums up everything I feel, “Did you know that if gravity were slightly more powerful, the universe would collapse into a ball? It’s just that gravity is precisely as strong as it needs to be, and if the ratio of the electromagnetic force to the strong force wasn’t 1%, life wouldn’t exist. What are the odds that would happen all by itself? The precision of the universe at least makes it logical to conclude there’s a creator.” I understand and have read passages of the Bible reminding Christians, God is about blind faith. I know this will take time for me to personally reach this point, but I am putting in the effort and I know I have a community helping guide me. When I began my journey with Christ, I was brought back to one of the first sermons I can remember, Luke 3:11, “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none; and he who has food, let him do likewise.” During the time with the children, my pastor explained to us this verse was about generosity and that we’ve been given many gifts from God. This included material items such as our coats but also intangible gifts such as friendship and kindness that we could also share. I kept the message of glorifying God and His gifts in mind when I chose Humanitarian Engineering. In this field, I will create water systems, design shelters, write grants, and many other tasks to help impoverished communities. While I and humanity may never truly know how the world began, I know the world will keep evolving and I will evolve in my faith where I will honor Christ through my work and my life.

The most effective approach to improve the world is through the development of technology that addresses worsening societal issues and produces new, innovative benefits for society. Poverty is one of the biggest challenges facing humanity, and renewable resources are among the fastest growing industries in our world today. There is a technology, called hydrothermal oxidation, that can perform both of these functions. This technology applies high pressure and temperature to sewage, a substance that is persistently ruining the environment, to convert it into renewable energy, clean water, and sellable by-products. This auto-thermal, odorless system breaks the bonds in the waste water so that it can combine with oxygen to create new unreactive molecules such as water, carbon dioxide, and nitrogen. This technology can be used in a low income neighborhood to make a completely self-sufficient community. Sewage no longer needs to be handled as it is used in the system and its products of water and electricity fulfill the other utilities. It has the ability to produce up to 50 megawatts daily which according to ecowatch’s data can supply about 8200 homes. The water and electricity produced in this system can be reused in the community or sold for profit. Carbon dioxide can be sold to pop manufacturers and nitrogen can be used and sold for fertilizer. Not only does it help communities and is another clean source of electricity, it also helps the environment as it keeps this sewage out of our rivers and landfills. One set of this technology can process 50 tons of sewage. It is also more versatile than normal sewage processors since it can process wastewater that is too dilute to incinerate or too concentrated or toxic for biological treatment. The process is an on-site treatment so it also reduces the use of transportation which reduces the amount of greenhouse gasses released. Given how useful hydrothermal oxidation is in so many aspects of our life, it is a remarkable technological advancement. I was actually inspired to study humanitarian engineering because of this technology, which allows me to assist underprivileged people all around the world. Despite the fact that this technology has existed for a couple decades, no one has used it to aid the underprivileged or to consider the global advantages it could offer. I'm motivated to use my career in STEM to create and use new technology, like hydrothermal oxidation, to aid the underprivileged.