Kyle Lam Memorial Scholarship Essay — Malachi Batiste From a young age, I was the kind of kid who liked to take things apart just to figure out how they worked. Old radios, broken phones, or my grandmother’s Wi-Fi router — nothing in the house was safe from my curiosity. My family called it “tinkering,” but for me, it was the beginning of a love story with technology. I didn’t have access to the newest gadgets, but I had a drive to understand how things connected, communicated, and could be made better. One of my favorite moments came during my senior year of high school when I helped the computer lab recover after a system failure. The school’s network went down just days before state testing. Teachers were panicking, and the IT technician wouldn’t arrive until the following week. I volunteered to take a look, not because I thought I was a genius, but because I believed that learning happens by doing. After a few hours of troubleshooting, I found that a simple misconfiguration in the network settings had caused the crash. I fixed the issue, reconnected the systems, and the lab was back online. The teachers couldn’t believe a student had solved it. Their relief — and the laughter that followed — made all the late nights watching coding tutorials feel worth it. That experience changed how I saw technology. I realized that the real joy isn’t just in building something new — it’s in using your skills to serve others. Since then, I’ve created small programs to make everyday tasks easier for people around me. When my church’s livestream system kept freezing during Sunday service, I reconfigured the video setup and wrote a lightweight script to automate camera transitions. It turned out better than we expected, and soon, other churches in the community asked me to help them set up similar systems. Seeing their excitement reminded me why I love technology — it brings people together. Now, as a freshman majoring in Computer Science at Bowie State University, I’m continuing to explore that same hacker spirit that defined Kyle Lam’s life — curiosity, experimentation, and generosity. My focus in cybersecurity stems from the same desire to problem-solve creatively and protect systems that impact real people. Whether I’m learning a new coding language, joining a hackathon, or mentoring younger students in coding clubs, I carry the same mindset: “What can I build that will make someone’s life easier or inspire them to dream bigger?” I don’t consider myself the smartest in the room, but I strive to be the most curious. Each project teaches me that technology is not just about innovation — it’s about empathy. When people light up because something you’ve built makes their day better, that’s the best reward. Winning the Kyle Lam Memorial Scholarship would mean more than financial help — it would be an honor to carry forward the legacy of someone whose creativity and humility changed lives. Like Kyle, I want my work to reflect not just technical skill, but a heart for helping others and a belief that there’s always another way to solve a problem.

Anthony Belliamy Scholarship Essay — Malachi Batiste Life has a way of testing what we truly believe. For me, those tests came through financial hardship and the pain of losing loved ones who helped shape the man I am becoming. Yet through every moment of loss and uncertainty, my faith became the foundation that kept me grounded and gave me strength to keep going. I’ve learned that perseverance isn’t about having all the answers — it’s about trusting God through the process and using your challenges as fuel for purpose. Growing up, my family didn’t have much, but we had faith. My parents taught me the value of prayer, discipline, and education even when the bills were high and opportunities seemed low. There were moments when we had to choose between paying for basic needs or saving for school expenses. I remember working part-time while balancing high-school classes, determined not to let my circumstances define me. Losing family members during that same time — people who had been sources of wisdom and stability — made life even heavier. Each loss reminded me how fragile life is, but also how much strength God gives when you lean on Him. When I first arrived at Bowie State University to study Computer Science with a focus in Cybersecurity, I carried those lessons with me. College was both exciting and intimidating. I was the first in my immediate family to pursue this field, and at times the financial strain felt overwhelming. But instead of quitting, I prayed for guidance and reminded myself of Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Those words became my daily motivation. During my first semester, there were days I questioned whether I belonged. I didn’t have the latest laptop or access to every resource my classmates had, but I had determination. I spent long nights in the computer lab, watching coding tutorials, and asking professors for extra help. Each time I overcame a challenge, I felt God building resilience and confidence within me. My struggles taught me how to adapt, how to lead, and how to believe in myself even when circumstances said otherwise. I’ve also learned the power of giving back. Volunteering in youth programs at my church and mentoring high-school students interested in technology has reminded me that leadership isn’t about titles — it’s about service. I want other young people who come from hard places to see that your start doesn’t determine your finish. My dream is to become a cybersecurity analyst who protects people’s information and builds safer systems, but more than that, I want to be an example of integrity and faith in the technology world. Every hardship I’ve faced — from financial strain to family loss — has given me a deeper sense of empathy and purpose. They’ve shaped not only my career goals but also my character. I’ve learned that success is not measured only by how much you achieve but by how much you overcome. Faith has been my anchor, perseverance my weapon, and education my pathway forward. Receiving the Anthony Belliamy Scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of continuing my education but would also honor the values I’ve worked hard to live by — faith, resilience, and ethical leadership. Like Mr. Belliamy, I believe in leading with integrity, lifting others, and facing life’s challenges with courage and optimism. I’m committed to carrying those same principles into my studies, my career, and every space God allows me to impact.

Begin Again: Finding Strength Through the Storm By Malachi Batiste My name is Malachi Batiste, and my journey with sepsis changed the way I see life, family, and purpose. What began as a terrifying health crisis became a testimony of faith, resilience, and the power to begin again. A few years ago, my family went through one of the hardest seasons of our lives when my [loved one—grandparent, parent, or close family member] battled sepsis. What started as a routine illness quickly turned into a life-threatening condition that left us in shock. I remember the frantic rush to the hospital, the long nights filled with uncertainty, and the tears we cried while praying for healing. I saw the machines, the tubes, and the constant beeping of monitors — but I also saw something greater: the power of faith to sustain us when nothing else could. Watching my loved one fight through sepsis taught me the true meaning of endurance. Even after the infection was under control, recovery was long and painful. It wasn’t just the physical healing — it was emotional and mental too. Seeing the struggle up close gave me a new level of compassion and a deeper appreciation for life. I realized that healing isn’t always instant; sometimes, it’s a process that shapes your character one day at a time. That experience strengthened my resolve to live with purpose. I decided that I wouldn’t let hardship define me — I would let it drive me. Sepsis affected my family deeply, but it also brought us closer. We learned to celebrate small victories, to be grateful for every new morning, and to never take health for granted. This experience also inspired my academic and career goals. I am currently studying Computer Science with a focus on Cybersecurity, and I’ve learned that protecting people doesn’t only happen in hospitals — it can happen in every space where people are vulnerable. Whether in medicine, technology, or community advocacy, the goal is the same: to keep people safe, to build trust, and to make a difference. My encounter with sepsis also opened my eyes to how many families face similar battles without understanding what sepsis is or how to recognize it early. I’ve made it a goal to raise awareness wherever I can — through conversations, school discussions, and even social media — to help others know the signs before it’s too late. I believe that every challenge in life holds a hidden gift. For me, sepsis taught me how to endure, how to lead, and how to use my story to bring hope to others. It reminded me that pain doesn’t have to paralyze you — it can push you toward your purpose. The Begin Again Scholarship represents more than financial assistance. It symbolizes hope and resilience — the same hope that carried my family through the darkest nights. It reminds me that even when life breaks you down, you can rise again, stronger than before. I want my story to encourage other students who are battling illness or supporting loved ones through it: your pain is not the end of your story. With faith, discipline, and determination, you can start again — and even turn tragedy into triumph. Sepsis may have shaken my world, but it also taught me how to stand. And because of that, I am determined to keep learning, keep serving, and keep beginning again — no matter what life brings.

Rising Through the Pain: My Journey with Sickle Cell If there’s one thing Sickle Cell Disease has taught me, it’s that pain may shape my days, but it doesn’t define my destiny. My name is [Name], and I have lived with Sickle Cell since birth. What began as a medical diagnosis quickly became a lifelong teacher — one that has challenged me, refined me, and taught me to live with purpose, faith, and endurance. Growing up, I spent more time in hospitals than on playgrounds. I learned to recognize the sterile scent of emergency rooms, the hum of IV pumps, and the quiet strength in my mother’s prayers at my bedside. There were nights when pain crises kept me awake until sunrise and mornings when I still showed up to school because I refused to let this disease win. Every blood transfusion, every doctor’s visit, and every setback pushed me to dig deeper — to find meaning beyond the pain. Managing Sickle Cell is more than managing symptoms; it’s managing mindset. I’ve learned to listen to my body without surrendering to it. Hydration, rest, and medication are part of my routine, but so are gratitude, prayer, and hope. Faith keeps me grounded. I hold tightly to Philippians 4:13 — “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” That verse reminds me that every limitation can become an opportunity when placed in God’s hands. Despite the obstacles, I’ve remained focused on education and service. I am currently pursuing a degree in [major, e.g., Biology or Computer Science], with the goal of [career goal, e.g., becoming a medical researcher or cybersecurity specialist]. I want my work to improve lives — especially for those who live with invisible illnesses like mine. Balancing school and health is difficult; sometimes a single pain episode can derail an entire week of classes. But I’ve learned resilience through routine: staying organized, communicating with professors, and turning hospital stays into study sessions. My GPA isn’t just a number — it’s evidence of perseverance. My inspiration comes from my family and the Sickle Cell community. My parents are my heroes. They’ve modeled sacrifice, strength, and unwavering love. I’ve also been mentored by others living with Sickle Cell who refuse to let the disease silence their voices. They’ve taught me that advocacy begins with authenticity — that sharing our stories breaks stigma and builds connection. I’ve volunteered with [specific organization or event if applicable] to raise awareness, organize blood drives, and encourage testing within the Black community. Every small act feels like lighting a candle in the dark. I am motivated by the legacy of Prince Justice Williams because his story mirrors the courage I strive to live out daily. Like him, I know what it means to chase dreams through pain and to keep showing up even when life feels unfair. His determination reminds me that purpose is greater than pain. Receiving this scholarship would ease financial stress while allowing me to continue advocating for others living with chronic illness. But beyond the funding, it would affirm that perseverance matters — that even in the midst of struggle, greatness can still rise. My journey with Sickle Cell may be difficult, but it’s also beautiful. It has given me strength, compassion, and a calling: to live fully, love deeply, and never stop fighting for the life God has given me.

Faith, Family, and the Fight to Finish Strong By Malachi Batiste If I could describe my life in three words, they would be faith, family, and fight. Those three things have shaped who I am — not just as a student-athlete, but as a young man learning to stand strong through adversity. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am a college student-athlete pursuing a degree in Computer Science with a focus on Cybersecurity. Growing up, sports were more than just games to me — they were lessons in discipline, teamwork, and perseverance. Whether it was on the football field or basketball court, I learned how to push through pain, lead with humility, and trust my teammates the same way I trust my family. My family is my foundation. I was raised in a home where faith came first, respect mattered, and giving your best was nonnegotiable. My parents and grandparents taught me early that life isn’t always fair, but it’s always an opportunity to grow. We pray together, support one another through challenges, and believe that hard work honors God. We’ve endured loss, including my uncle, one of my greatest role models. His sudden passing taught me that manhood isn’t measured by how loud you talk, but by how faithfully you serve others. His life inspired me to live with purpose and gratitude — to play every game and face every challenge as if it could be my last. Being a student-athlete has taught me the value of balance. There are nights when I leave practice exhausted yet still hit the books, and mornings when I rise sore but determined to improve. Sports have shown me that consistency and discipline produce victory over time. I chose cybersecurity because I’ve always been fascinated by technology and problem-solving. Like sports, it requires focus and teamwork — except now the opponent isn’t another team, but digital threats that can harm people’s lives. I want to use my degree to protect others and make technology safer for families and communities. The lessons from sports reach far beyond the field. I’ve learned leadership, accountability, and how to face both victory and defeat with humility. I hope to mentor young athletes — especially those from underrepresented backgrounds — reminding them that their dreams are valid and reachable through faith and discipline. The legacy of Stephan Laurence Wolley inspires me. His love for faith, family, and competition mirrors the principles that guide my life. This scholarship would help me continue my education while honoring those same values. I still have much to learn, but I’m grateful for every lesson — from the field to the classroom, from heartbreak to hope. With faith, family, and fight, I will keep pushing forward and make a difference wherever God leads me.

Finding Gratitude Through the Storm By Malachi Batiste When I was first diagnosed with a mast cell–related condition, I felt like my world flipped upside down. Simple things that most people take for granted — eating certain foods, going outside on humid days, or being around strong scents — suddenly became challenges I had to plan every day around. At first, I saw my condition as a barrier, a constant reminder of what I couldn’t do. But over time, I began to realize that it was also reshaping my life in ways that revealed strength, empathy, and relationships I might never have known without it. The thing I am most grateful for, because of this journey, is perspective. Mast cell disease has given me the ability to slow down and appreciate moments that most people rush past. When your body can suddenly react to something as small as a change in temperature or a bite of food, you start to understand just how fragile and miraculous everyday life really is. I used to move through days focused on what was next; now I live more intentionally, finding joy in the small victories — a day without pain, a good night’s sleep, or even a simple walk outside. That shift in mindset has made me stronger mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I am also deeply grateful for the people this condition has brought into my life — the kind of people I might never have met otherwise. From doctors who refuse to give up on finding answers, to friends who show up with understanding instead of pity, these relationships have redefined what support looks like. I’ve met others living with rare conditions through online communities, and their courage has inspired me more than any motivational speech ever could. We share advice, laughter, and encouragement in moments when the world doesn’t seem to understand what we go through. That connection — that community — is something I will never take for granted. My family has also grown closer through this journey. Before my diagnosis, I didn’t always realize how deeply love can show up in small acts — like my mom researching recipes that won’t trigger symptoms or my siblings checking in after appointments. Illness can strain relationships, but in our case, it strengthened them. We learned to communicate more honestly and to celebrate progress, no matter how small. That has changed how I approach all relationships in my life: with patience, gratitude, and empathy. Perhaps the most unexpected gift has been discovering my purpose. Before dealing with mast cell disease, I didn’t think much about health advocacy. Now, I see how powerful it can be to speak up — to share experiences that might make someone else feel less alone. It’s why I’ve started exploring ways to use my computer science studies to build accessible digital tools for people managing chronic conditions. My dream is to design technology that connects patients to resources, support groups, and information more easily. In that way, my challenges have become motivation to help others. If you asked me years ago what I thought I’d gain from living with a condition like this, I would have said “nothing but frustration.” But now, I can honestly say I’ve gained everything that truly matters — empathy, gratitude, resilience, and purpose. I’ve learned that while mast cell disease may have changed my plans, it didn’t take away my potential. It simply helped me see life in a deeper, more grateful way.

By Malachi Batiste Growing up, I didn’t always see people who looked like me working in technology. Most of the computer scientists, engineers, or cybersecurity professionals I saw on television or online didn’t come from my background. But instead of discouraging me, that reality inspired me. I wanted to be part of the next generation that changes what the face of technology looks like. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am an undergraduate Computer Science major with a focus in Cybersecurity. I chose this field because technology shapes every part of modern life, from communication and education to national security and healthcare. But as powerful as technology is, it’s also vulnerable. Every data breach, scam, and cyberattack reminds me that our digital world needs protectors — people who understand both the science and the responsibility behind keeping information safe. I want to be one of those protectors. My love for technology began when I was a child helping my family solve small computer issues at home. What started as curiosity quickly became passion. I began teaching myself basic coding and learning how networks operate. Over time, I realized cybersecurity wasn’t just about computers — it was about people. Protecting data means protecting individuals, families, and communities from harm. That realization gave my studies a greater purpose. As a young Black man pursuing a career in cybersecurity, I represent a small percentage of my field — only about 9% of the U.S. cybersecurity workforce identifies as Black or African American. Those numbers motivate me, not discourage me. They remind me that every classroom I sit in, every project I complete, and every certification I earn is one step toward closing that gap. I don’t just want to succeed for myself; I want to help others see that they can, too. In my community, I have already begun sharing what I’ve learned. I’ve volunteered to help younger students learn basic coding skills and understand online safety. Teaching them how to protect their digital identities and avoid scams has shown me how powerful knowledge can be. Many of these students come from neighborhoods where access to technology is limited, and seeing their excitement when they realize they can create something meaningful with code reminds me why representation matters. I plan to use my degree to make a tangible impact in both cybersecurity and community outreach. My long-term goal is to create programs that teach cybersecurity basics to high school and middle school students, particularly in underrepresented communities. By exposing them early to technology, I hope to break down barriers and make this field more accessible. I also want to mentor other BIPOC students entering STEM, providing the kind of support and encouragement that I once needed. Representation isn’t just about statistics — it’s about visibility and access. When young people see someone who shares their background succeeding in a field they thought was out of reach, it changes what they believe is possible. That’s the kind of inspiration I want to bring to others. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue my studies and focus on building that vision — not only by supporting my education but by fueling my mission to diversify technology fields. I believe that innovation thrives when different voices, experiences, and cultures are part of the conversation. My dream is to help make cybersecurity a field where more students of color can see themselves, feel included, and know they belong. Because when we expand opportunity, we expand what’s possible — for our communities, our nation, and the next generation of thinkers and dreamers.

Eden Alaine Memorial Scholarship Essay When I think about loss, I think about my Uncle June. He wasn’t just a relative — he was one of my best friends and biggest supporters. He passed away in a trucking accident when I was younger, and that moment changed my life forever. Growing up, I spent nearly every day with him and my grandmother. We were more like a small family unit than relatives who saw each other on holidays. Losing him felt like losing part of my foundation. Uncle June was the kind of person who could make an ordinary day feel special. We would cut grass together, eat meals at the table with my grandmother, and take trips around town that turned into lessons about life. He didn’t have to use big words to teach me — his actions spoke louder than any advice could. He showed me what it meant to work hard, stay humble, and treat people with respect. Those lessons stayed with me long after his passing. When he died, I felt lost for a long time. It was hard to understand how someone who seemed so strong and full of life could suddenly be gone. There were moments when the sadness was overwhelming, and focusing on school or my goals felt impossible. But my grandmother reminded me that Uncle June wouldn’t want me to stop living. She told me that honoring him meant moving forward — not by forgetting, but by remembering him through my actions and accomplishments. That shift in perspective changed everything. Instead of letting grief hold me down, I began using it as motivation. I started focusing more on my studies and my goals, realizing that my success could be a way to carry his memory forward. I learned to see education as more than just a path to a career — it became a way to make meaning out of loss. Now, as I pursue my college education in Computer Science, I carry the lessons he taught me into everything I do. I want to use technology not only to build a future for myself but to create tools that can help others heal, connect, and stay safe. My uncle’s passing taught me that life is fragile, but purpose gives it strength. It taught me resilience — that even when life breaks your heart, you can rebuild with determination and faith. Losing him was one of the hardest experiences of my life, but it also shaped me into the person I am today. It gave me compassion for others who are grieving and the drive to keep going even when things are painful. It reminded me that time is precious and that love doesn’t end when someone passes — it continues through the choices we make every day. Every time I accomplish something new — whether it’s passing a tough class, helping someone in need, or simply staying focused — I feel like I’m honoring him. My uncle may be gone, but his legacy lives in me. And as I continue to grow, I know he’d be proud to see that the boy who once grieved beside his grandmother is now a young man walking forward with purpose, strength, and hope.

🧮 Why I Love Math Scholarship Essay — Learner Math Lover Scholarship From the moment I realized that numbers could tell a story, I fell in love with math. To most people, math is just about equations or formulas, but to me, it’s a language—a way of understanding how the world works. Math connects everything: from the way computers process information to the way planets orbit the sun. It turns patterns into purpose, and that’s why I love it. When I started studying computer science, I began to see how deeply math shapes the technology we use every day. Coding, algorithms, and data encryption all depend on mathematical logic. As a cybersecurity major, I see math as both a shield and a key—it protects sensitive information while also unlocking new ways to solve complex problems. Every time I write a line of code or analyze a system, I’m reminded that math is the foundation of innovation. Math also teaches me perseverance and problem-solving. Sometimes an equation doesn’t work out on the first try. But learning to keep testing, analyzing, and adjusting until the answer appears has shaped how I approach challenges in life. Math reminds me that every problem has a solution—you just have to find the right method. Beyond academics, I love how math builds bridges between people and cultures. It’s a universal language. No matter where you go, the number two will always be two. Math unites scientists, engineers, and dreamers around the globe who share the same passion for discovery and progress. Ultimately, I love math because it teaches me how to think, not just what to think. It gives me clarity, structure, and creativity all at once. Whether I’m solving a cybersecurity challenge or balancing a personal budget, math is the constant that guides me toward smarter decisions and stronger solutions. Math doesn’t just describe the world—it defines it. And I’m proud to be one of its lifelong learners.

When I walk across my college campus, I carry more than a backpack full of textbooks—I carry generations of prayers, sacrifice, and quiet strength. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am a first-generation African American college student pursuing a degree in Computer Science with a focus on Cybersecurity at Bowie State University, one of the nation’s proud Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). My path has never been simple or straight, but every turn has shaped my sense of identity and purpose. Growing up in Louisiana, I learned early that being a young Black man meant walking a tightrope between hope and hardship. I watched my father, Pastor Cory Batiste, model integrity, faith, and perseverance while balancing ministry and teaching. He taught me that greatness is not inherited—it’s earned through discipline, courage, and service. Still, I also saw the other side of the story: talented young Black men who never got the chance to reach their potential because opportunity was locked behind doors their zip codes could not open. That reality shaped my mission—not just to succeed for myself, but to use technology as a tool for protection, empowerment, and change in my community. Being a racial minority in higher education comes with invisible weights. In some classes, I’m one of only a few Black students. Sometimes, silence fills the space where understanding should be. Yet I remind myself that presence is power. Every time I raise my hand in a computer science lecture, every time I debug a line of code until midnight, I am breaking cycles and building bridges. I am proof that representation matters. The barriers I face are not just academic—they are financial and emotional. College expenses stretch beyond tuition to include textbooks, lab software, and transportation. My family has sacrificed so much to help me stay focused, but there are moments when the weight feels heavy. Still, I refuse to let that weight crush me; I let it strengthen my resolve. When I earn this degree, I won’t just be another graduate—I will be a doorway for the next student who looks like me and wonders if it’s possible. My identity as a young Black man in technology has already begun to shape my impact. I volunteer with high school students, teaching them basic coding and cybersecurity awareness. When I see their faces light up after writing their first line of code, I realize I’m doing more than teaching technology—I’m helping rewrite stories that the world too often predetermines for us. In the future, I plan to combine my technical training with community leadership to create programs that make cybersecurity education accessible to underrepresented youth. I want to build safe digital spaces and empower young people to protect their voices in a world that too often tries to silence them. I am proud of who I am and where I come from. My path may not look like everyone else’s, but that’s exactly why it matters. Every challenge I’ve faced has become part of the blueprint for the person I’m becoming—a leader, an innovator, and an example of what it means to rise with purpose. I am not just pursuing a degree. I am pursuing a legacy.

Pursuing a STEM degree at an HBCU has been one of the most defining experiences of my life—not because it has been easy, but because it has demanded resilience, focus, and faith in moments when quitting seemed simpler. The greatest obstacle I have faced in higher education is not only financial hardship but the weight of self-doubt that often accompanies being underrepresented in a field where few faces look like mine. Yet through every challenge, mentors and professors have reminded me that I belong here—that my presence in STEM is both a responsibility and a victory. When I first entered college, I was filled with enthusiasm for studying Computer Science, but that excitement soon collided with the realities of rigorous coursework, financial strain, and personal responsibilities. I came from a background where access to advanced technology was limited. Many of my peers had early exposure to robotics camps or coding competitions. I, on the other hand, learned through borrowed textbooks and late nights watching tutorials on an aging laptop. Every failed experiment or difficult exam seemed to whisper otherwise. The turning point came during my sophomore year when I failed a major physics exam despite countless hours of study. I felt humiliated and began to question whether I truly belonged in STEM. It was then that one of my professors, Dr. Ohenee, stepped in. He noticed my frustration and invited me to his office. During our conversation, he shared his story of being the only Black engineer in his graduate cohort—of facing rejection and choosing perseverance over perfection. He told me something I will never forget: “You are not here by accident. You are here to open doors that others will one day walk through.” That conversation reignited something in me. With his guidance, I learned to approach failure as data, not defeat. I began attending tutoring sessions, joining study groups, and mentoring younger students who were struggling just as I had. Dr. Ohenee also helped me secure a research assistantship in the computer science department, where I worked on a project analyzing how machine learning algorithms could improve data security in small business networks. Our team built and tested a predictive model that identified unusual login patterns to detect cyber threats in real time. This project deepened my understanding of artificial intelligence, coding efficiency, and ethical responsibility in technology. That opportunity strengthened my technical skills and reaffirmed my purpose—to use science as a tool for innovation, equity, and change. Beyond academics, I have faced financial obstacles that nearly halted my education. There were semesters when I wasn’t sure I could afford tuition or lab materials. However, the support from mentors, financial aid advisors, and family members helped me stay the course. Their belief in me became the bridge between who I was and who I am becoming. Through these experiences, I have learned that STEM is not just about solving equations or building models—it’s about building resilience. The process of scientific discovery mirrors personal growth: hypothesis, trial, error, and breakthrough. Each challenge has taught me that perseverance is as valuable as problem-solving. As I continue my studies at Bowie State University, I am driven not only by career goals but by a sense of mission. I want to mentor younger students of color entering STEM fields and show them that representation matters—that their voices and innovations are needed. The William A. Lewis Scholarship would allow me to continue this journey and honor those who helped me by becoming that same source of light for someone else.

Scholarship Essay Dreams are not achieved in a single moment—they are built through endurance, prayer, and the courage to keep going when everything around you says stop. My journey toward higher education has been one marked by both struggle and strength. Each obstacle I’ve faced—financial hardship, family instability, and moments of self-doubt—has become the very foundation on which my determination stands. Growing up, I learned early that life was not going to hand me easy opportunities. As a minority student and single parent, I often found myself torn between providing stability for my family and pursuing the education that could transform our future. There were semesters when tuition seemed impossible to pay and nights when I studied by the dim light after putting my child to bed. Still, every challenge reminded me why I started—to build a legacy of hope and opportunity that would extend beyond my own home and into my community. Education became my anchor. In every classroom, I saw more than just lessons or grades—I saw tools for change. I chose to major in Business Administration because I believe that leadership rooted in empathy and vision can transform communities from the inside out. I’ve learned that business, when guided by integrity, is not just about profit—it’s about people. My ultimate goal is to launch a community development program that provides job training, financial literacy workshops, and mentorship for young adults who, like me, have faced instability but refuse to give up. The obstacles I’ve faced have refined my purpose rather than defined my limits. When I was younger, I often questioned why life seemed harder for me than for others. Now I see that those hardships prepared me to lead with compassion. They taught me patience, resourcefulness, and faith. I’ve discovered that real success is not measured by what we accumulate, but by what we can give back. I want to use my education to pour into others—especially single parents and minority youth who feel unseen or unheard. Through community outreach, business leadership, and mentorship, I will create spaces where others can dream freely and find tangible support to make those dreams real. The Rev. and Mrs. E. B. Dunbar Scholarship would not just help me continue my education; it would empower me to keep building bridges of opportunity. I want to show my child—and every young person watching—that obstacles are not dead ends but detours leading toward greater purpose. I believe that when we face our challenges with faith and courage, we don’t just achieve our own dreams—we inspire others to believe that theirs are possible, too. That is how I plan to give back: by turning every struggle I’ve endured into strength that serves my community, honors those who helped me along the way, and uplifts those still finding their way forward.

Selected Paragraph (for Analysis) “For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” — Ecclesiastes 1:18 (KJV) Scholarship Essay At first glance, the words of Ecclesiastes 1:18 appear discouraging, almost paradoxical: “For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” Why would wisdom — that timeless pursuit celebrated across cultures — lead not to joy, but to grief? Yet, in this single verse, the writer known as Qoheleth (the Teacher) offers one of the most profound insights into the human condition: that understanding reality in its fullness means confronting its pain. My close reading of this passage reveals that Ecclesiastes does not condemn wisdom; rather, it portrays it as an act of courageous clarity — a willingness to see the world truthfully, to bear its burdens responsibly, and to live with purpose in spite of sorrow. This insight has shaped how I view learning, leadership, and the very purpose of education. The Book of Ecclesiastes belongs to the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible, a collection of writings that seeks meaning in life’s complexities rather than in its certainties. The Teacher speaks as one who has seen the futility of worldly pursuits — wealth, pleasure, status — and concludes that all is “vanity,” a fleeting breath. Yet within this apparent despair lies deep realism. The verse I have chosen is not a rejection of knowledge, but an admission that true understanding comes with emotional cost. To “increase knowledge” is to awaken from naïveté, to see injustice, suffering, and human limitation with open eyes. It is easier to live in ignorance than to carry the weight of awareness — but the Teacher insists that such awareness is the only path to genuine wisdom. In the phrase “he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow,” the Hebrew word for sorrow (mak’ōb) implies pain, affliction, or deep distress. This is not the pain of failure, but the ache of insight — the grief of seeing what others refuse to see. In my own life, I have experienced this tension in both academic and personal ways. As a student, I have learned that education is not merely about accumulating information but about confronting truth — about history’s injustices, society’s inequities, and even our own internal contradictions. To be a student is to wrestle with complexity. The more I learn about the world, the more I feel the responsibility to act within it — and that awareness, though heavy, becomes the very soil in which compassion and purpose take root. This verse also reflects a principle that transcends religion and enters philosophy: the moral burden of knowledge. In Greek thought, Socrates declared that “the unexamined life is not worth living,” yet his pursuit of truth ultimately led to his death. Likewise, in modern contexts, thinkers from Nietzsche to Martin Luther King Jr. understood that awareness brings both enlightenment and anguish. To see clearly is to feel deeply. And yet, such clarity is the birthplace of change. Without it, ignorance breeds complacency. Ecclesiastes therefore stands not as a lament, but as a challenge — a call to bear the sorrow of wisdom with integrity, to see pain and still choose to build, teach, and heal. For me, this truth resonates deeply with my educational and professional aspirations. I have chosen to major in Business Administration because I believe that leadership is not simply about efficiency or profit; it is about seeing reality fully — including the problems others overlook — and responding with innovation and empathy. In studying business ethics, economics, and organizational leadership, I have encountered the same principle Ecclesiastes teaches: that knowledge without conscience creates exploitation, but knowledge guided by compassion can transform society. I want to use what I learn to create spaces of opportunity for others, particularly young people who come from unstable or disadvantaged backgrounds, as I once did. My experiences in the foster care system exposed me to hardship early in life, but they also trained me to observe, adapt, and empathize — all traits rooted in wisdom’s painful but powerful gift of perspective. The Teacher’s words remind me that wisdom is not meant to isolate us in sorrow but to awaken us to shared humanity. The grief that accompanies knowledge should not lead to despair; it should lead to purpose. Each time I study social inequities or business ethics, I am reminded of this verse — that awareness of suffering compels moral responsibility. The more I understand the systemic barriers others face, the more I feel called to help dismantle them. In this way, wisdom’s grief becomes the seed of impact. To increase knowledge is to increase our capacity for compassion — and through compassion, transformation. There is also a spiritual dimension to this verse that continues to shape my worldview. The Teacher acknowledges that wisdom, though valuable, cannot erase life’s uncertainty. This humility before mystery teaches a crucial balance between intellect and faith. I have learned that not every question has an answer, not every plan unfolds as expected, and not every truth brings comfort. Yet, within that acceptance lies peace. True wisdom, as Ecclesiastes implies, is not about control but surrender — understanding that one’s duty is to seek truth, act with integrity, and trust God with what remains unseen. This balance keeps learning from becoming arrogance and sorrow from becoming despair. Close reading allows us to extract this layered meaning — linguistic, emotional, ethical, and spiritual — from a single sentence. The verse’s structure itself underscores its paradox: “much wisdom… much grief,” “increaseth knowledge… increaseth sorrow.” The repetition and parallelism create a rhythm of inevitability, suggesting that wisdom and pain are inseparable twins. Yet, by embracing this duality, we learn what it means to live meaningfully. Wisdom without grief is shallow; grief without wisdom is hopeless. Together, they forge maturity — the ability to confront reality without losing faith in its redemption. In essence, Ecclesiastes 1:18 is not a warning against learning but an invitation to deeper living. It challenges us to accept that the pursuit of truth will sometimes wound us — but that those wounds are sacred, proof that we have truly seen and truly cared. For me, this realization defines what education means: not the avoidance of difficulty, but the pursuit of understanding that refines both intellect and character. As I continue my college journey, this verse reminds me that the measure of wisdom is not how comfortable it makes us, but how courageously it calls us to serve. Every lecture, every challenge, every difficult truth I confront brings me closer to the kind of wisdom Ecclesiastes speaks of — one that grieves, yet still builds; that sorrows, yet still hopes. And in that paradox lies the deepest form of learning: the wisdom that heals even as it hurts.

Scholarship Essay Word Count: ~550 My name is [Your Name], and I have chosen to major in Business Administration because I believe that leadership built on empathy, discipline, and innovation can change lives. For me, business is not just about profit—it’s about purpose. It is the art of turning vision into action and using strategy to uplift people and communities. My journey through the foster care system shaped this belief and taught me that the greatest form of success is not wealth, but impact. Growing up in foster care meant learning to adapt quickly and think resourcefully. I moved through different homes and schools, each with its own rhythm and set of challenges. Though those years were filled with uncertainty, they taught me invaluable lessons about resilience, communication, and leadership. I learned to listen, to observe, and to find strength in instability. In many ways, foster care became the foundation for my future—it gave me the ability to persevere, to manage change, and to empathize deeply with others facing adversity. It was during high school that my passion for business truly emerged. I took an introductory business course and was immediately drawn to how innovation could solve real problems. Creating my first business plan opened my eyes to the power of strategy and creativity working together. I realized that business could be a tool not only for financial success, but for restoring dignity, providing opportunity, and strengthening communities. My academic interests now center around entrepreneurship and organizational leadership. I want to develop the skills to build sustainable ventures that address social and economic challenges. My long-term goal is to establish a business incubator and mentorship program for youth who are transitioning out of foster care. I know firsthand how difficult that transition can be—many young adults age out of the system without guidance, financial support, or stability. Through my program, I hope to provide career training, financial literacy workshops, and mentorship to help them develop the confidence and skills to build successful, independent lives. After earning my degree, I plan to pursue an MBA to expand my understanding of business management and entrepreneurship. I envision creating partnerships between businesses and local organizations to provide pathways for employment, education, and personal growth. My dream is to create enterprises that not only thrive economically but also cultivate compassion, equity, and empowerment. The foster care system could have left me broken or bitter—but instead, it gave me purpose. It taught me how to turn pain into perseverance and how to view every obstacle as an opportunity for growth. I’ve learned that effective leadership begins with humility and service. I want to be the kind of leader who listens first, builds others up, and uses business as a means to heal and empower. This scholarship represents more than financial support—it represents belief: belief in my ability to transform adversity into achievement, and belief that with education and faith, I can create lasting change for others who have walked the same path I once did.

eading with Purpose and Faith Leadership, to me, isn’t about being in charge—it’s about being responsible for those around you. Growing up in a family shaped by service and faith, I learned early that leadership means showing up with integrity, communicating clearly, and serving others before yourself. Those lessons have guided how I live, study, and serve my community every day. One of the first ways I learned to lead was through JROTC in high school. I started out quietly, following others’ commands, but as time went on, my instructors saw something in me that I didn’t yet see in myself. They gave me responsibilities—calling drills, mentoring younger cadets, and organizing community events. I discovered that leadership isn’t about shouting the loudest; it’s about earning respect through your actions. I learned to communicate by listening first, giving clear direction second, and leading by example always. Those moments taught me how powerful calm, confident communication can be in keeping a team unified under pressure. Resilience has also defined my journey. My path to college hasn’t been easy. Like many students, I’ve faced financial setbacks and personal challenges that tested my resolve. During my senior year, my family faced tough times that made me question whether college was even possible. Instead of giving up, I prayed, worked extra hours, and applied for every scholarship I could find. That season taught me that faith and perseverance go hand in hand. True resilience isn’t about never struggling—it’s about pushing through struggle with purpose. Being selfless is something I learned by watching my father and mentors in the church. They taught me that leadership without service is just ego. I try to live that out by volunteering at local community drives and mentoring younger students who feel lost or unmotivated. Whether it’s tutoring a classmate, helping organize youth events, or listening when someone needs to talk, I’ve found that giving my time freely not only helps others but also strengthens my own sense of purpose. Focus and determination have helped me stay grounded in both my education and faith. As a Computer Science major, my coursework can be demanding, but I’ve learned to approach every challenge with discipline. I set daily goals, manage my time carefully, and remind myself why I started—to build a career that combines technology and service. My dream is to work in cybersecurity, protecting communities and organizations from digital threats, because safety and service don’t just exist on battlefields or in streets—they also exist online. My work ethic comes from watching the people I admire most—teachers, soldiers, pastors, and parents—wake up early, stay late, and keep going even when no one notices. I believe excellence is a habit, not an event. That belief drives me to give my best in school, in JROTC, and in my community. Whether it’s staying late to finish a project, helping a teammate prepare for inspection, or pushing through fatigue to meet a goal, I’ve learned that hard work builds character—and character builds trust. Leadership, to me, means serving others with humility and courage. It means using your voice to inspire hope and your actions to bring change. I strive to lead in a way that reflects my faith: steady, compassionate, and committed to something greater than myself. Like Antonie “Tony” Bernard Thomas, I want to be remembered as someone who led with heart—someone who listened, served, and inspired others to believe they too can make a difference. Every day, I’m learning that leadership isn’t about titles or power; it’s about purpose—and I intend to walk in that purpose wherever my journey takes me.

Serving with Purpose and Pride My first exposure to military life came through my grandfather. He wasn’t a man of many words, but when he talked about his time in the Army, I could hear both pride and pain in his voice. He spoke of early mornings, tough drills, and the brotherhood that came from serving beside men who had each other’s backs. But he also shared how being a Black soldier meant fighting for a country that didn’t always fight for you in return. Those conversations opened my eyes to the honor and hardship that come with wearing the uniform. Learning about men like Ronald Chatters—who served in the all-Black 503rd Artillery Battalion—deepened that awareness. It’s one thing to read about history, but it’s another to realize that the freedoms I enjoy were built on the sacrifice of people who were often overlooked. The minority experience in the military is a story of resilience and quiet strength. They carried not just weapons, but also the weight of representing their race with dignity. That legacy is one I feel called to continue. When I joined JROTC as a freshman, I didn’t yet understand what leadership meant. I was shy, unsure of myself, and nervous about giving directions. Through drills, community service, and mentorship, I learned that leadership isn’t about being the loudest—it’s about being consistent, respectful, and dependable. My instructors taught me that the smallest details matter: a clean uniform, a sharp salute, and a steady attitude under pressure. Those lessons changed how I approached school and life. One of my proudest moments was helping organize a Veterans Day ceremony at my school. Working with other cadets to honor those who served—and speaking about the contributions of Black soldiers—reminded me that service transcends race. Seeing veterans of all backgrounds salute together showed me the power of unity and purpose. That day, I understood that leadership means creating moments that lift others up. JROTC also taught me that military service is not just about strength; it’s about self-discipline and humility. It’s about showing up when no one is watching. The program strengthened my faith too. I’ve learned to trust God’s timing and to pray before I make big decisions. My instructors often remind us, “A good soldier isn’t just trained in body—they’re grounded in character.” That truth stays with me. After graduation, my goal is to enlist in the U.S. military while earning a degree in cybersecurity. I want to combine my interest in technology with my desire to protect and serve. In today’s world, defending our country also means protecting its digital frontlines. My dream is to serve in a way that honors both my family’s history and my faith—to defend freedom while upholding courage, loyalty, and integrity. Participating in JROTC has given me direction, confidence, and purpose. It’s connected me to a lineage of men like Ronald Chatters—heroes who fought not just for their nation but for recognition and equality. When I put on my uniform, I think about their sacrifices and the path they cleared for soldiers like me. Their courage reminds me that service is more than duty—it’s a calling. That’s why I stand proud, driven by faith, and committed to making an impact that reaches beyond myself. I hope to carry their legacy forward—with purpose, with pride, and with the determination to serve my country as honorably as they did.

Essay: Faith in the Fire There was a moment in my life when faith wasn’t just something I heard preached about—it became the only thing I had to hold on to. During my senior year of high school, my family went through one of the hardest seasons we’ve ever faced. My father lost his job, bills began to stack up, and the future I had worked so hard for seemed to be slipping away. I was accepted into college, but without financial security, I didn’t know if I would be able to attend. Every time I looked at my younger siblings, I felt the pressure to be strong, even though inside I was scared and unsure of what to do. At first, I tried to fix everything myself. I filled out scholarship after scholarship, picked up side jobs, and even considered postponing college. But despite all my efforts, the situation didn’t change overnight. One night, overwhelmed, I sat alone and prayed—really prayed—for the first time in a long while. I asked God for peace and direction. I remember reading Philippians 4:6-7, “Be anxious for nothing… and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, shall guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” At that moment, something shifted inside me. My situation hadn’t changed, but my faith did. I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t control and started trusting God with what I couldn’t fix. I began to see small signs of His provision—friends who shared opportunities, a teacher who helped me revise my scholarship essays, and members of my church who encouraged me to stay faithful. My youth pastor reminded me, “Faith isn’t about avoiding the fire; it’s about trusting God to be with you in it.” Those words carried me through every anxious night. Through that season, my faith became active. I led prayers at church for students struggling financially, and I started volunteering at food drives, realizing that even in need, I could still serve others. When I finally received enough scholarships and grants to attend college, I didn’t see it as luck—I saw it as God’s faithfulness meeting me halfway. My part was to believe, to work, and to not give up. His part was to make a way. That experience taught me more than any sermon ever could. Faith isn’t passive; it’s what fuels persistence when everything else runs out. It taught me humility—to depend on God when I can’t depend on circumstances. It also taught me empathy—to look beyond my own struggle and help others facing their own. Now, as a college student majoring in Computer Science, I hold onto that same faith every time I face a new challenge. When classes get tough or finances feel uncertain, I remind myself of the God who came through before. My goal isn’t just to earn a degree—it’s to use my education and my story to encourage other young people to trust God even when life doesn’t make sense. Faith turned my fear into focus, my worry into work, and my pain into purpose. It’s what helped me move from uncertainty to opportunity. Like Nabi Nicole, I want my life to reflect a faith that not only overcomes but uplifts others. If I’ve learned anything through this journey, it’s that God doesn’t just deliver you from challenges—He delivers you through them, and in doing so, He builds something stronger inside you than the obstacle ever was.

Essay: The Day I Learned What Strength Really Means The person who has had the biggest impact on my life is my grandmother. She taught me what faith looks like when life doesn’t go as planned. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, our family’s world changed. But even through pain and uncertainty, she never stopped smiling, never stopped praying, and never stopped believing that God was still good. I remember sitting beside her one night after church in Louisiana. She looked at me and said, “Malachi, strength isn’t how loud you shout or how hard you fight—it’s how much faith you keep when you feel weak.” Those words stayed with me. Even as her body grew tired, her spirit stayed strong. She prayed for others when she could barely move herself. Watching her made me realize that true strength comes from faith, not fear. When she passed, I felt lost. I was just starting high school and couldn’t understand why God would take someone so loving and full of life. But over time, I realized she hadn’t really left me—she left lessons that still guide me today. Her strength inspired me to grow in my own faith, to serve others, and to live with purpose. That experience changed how I see life. It made me more compassionate and focused. I started getting involved in community projects through my church and school—helping with youth events, organizing food drives, and even helping plan family gatherings. Every time I see people come together and smile, I feel like I’m honoring her. She loved bringing people together, and now I find joy in doing the same. Losing her also gave me a deeper appreciation for time and people. I learned to check on loved ones more often, to say “thank you” and “I love you” without waiting for a special occasion. It taught me that life isn’t about how long you live but about how much love you share while you’re here. Now, as a college student majoring in Computer Science, I’m using those lessons in a different way. My grandmother believed in helping people and solving problems, and I see technology as a tool to do just that. I want to build programs that help others learn, connect, and grow—especially in communities where resources are limited. Her faith taught me perseverance. Her courage taught me compassion. And her love taught me that even when life changes, God’s presence doesn’t. When I face challenges now—whether it’s exams, finances, or life decisions—I think back to that moment beside her. I remember her words, her faith, and her peace. My grandmother’s life taught me that faith doesn’t make things easy; it makes them possible. That truth continues to shape who I am, and it’s the reason I strive to make a difference in every space I enter.

My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am a first-year freshman at Bowie State University, majoring in Computer Science with a concentration in Cybersecurity. Growing up in Louisiana and now studying in Maryland, I have learned to embrace new challenges, stay grounded in my faith, and use every opportunity to grow. Sports, community service, and my Christian upbringing have shaped me into someone who, like Kalia D. Davis, believes in excellence, resilience, and making an impact. Throughout high school, I was a dedicated athlete, balancing academics and athletics. I ran track and participated in team sports, which taught me discipline, consistency, and perseverance. Sports were never just about competition; they were about building character, setting goals, and supporting my teammates. That same work ethic now drives me in the classroom and in my pursuit of a career in cybersecurity. Beyond academics and athletics, I have been committed to serving others. I have volunteered through my church, Beech Grove Baptist, in various youth programs, tutoring, and community outreach initiatives. Giving back has taught me humility and reminded me that leadership is about service. Whether helping children with homework or assisting at community events, I strive to encourage others and bring hope. The values of this scholarship resonate with me because I believe that kindness and ambition should go hand in hand. My Christian faith is at the center of my life. It grounds me when life feels uncertain and pushes me to do my best even when no one is watching. My family has always reminded me that integrity and character outlast achievements. Reading about Kalia’s life reminded me of the importance of living with joy, courage, and a heart for others. I want to honor her memory by continuing to live with that same drive and impact. Cybersecurity is more than a major for me—it is a calling. Technology shapes the future, and protecting people, organizations, and even nations from cyber threats is a way I can serve others. I aspire to work in government or corporate cybersecurity to help secure communities and build safer systems. This scholarship would enable me to focus on my studies, alleviate financial burdens, and continue serving others while excelling academically. The Living, Loving, Laughing, Learning Legacy Scholarship is more than financial aid; it is an opportunity to carry forward the values Kalia embodied. Like her, I want to be remembered as someone who pursued excellence, encouraged others, and left a legacy of love and service. With your support, I will continue to live out these values at Bowie State and beyond.

The sound of my mother’s voice, nervous but determined, still echoes in my mind as she held my hand on our first day in America. Everything felt unfamiliar—the streets, the language, even the way classrooms worked. When my family first arrived in the United States, I quickly learned that stepping into a new world meant carrying both hope and uncertainty. I remember sitting in my first classroom, not fully understanding the language or the expectations, but knowing deep down that education would be the key to building a better life. That memory of sitting quietly at a desk, both nervous and determined, still drives me as I continue my journey through higher education. It reminds me that my pursuit of knowledge is not only for myself but also for my family and community who sacrificed so much for me to have this opportunity. Being a first-generation immigrant has shaped me in ways that go beyond academics. At home, I often acted as a translator and problem-solver for my family, whether it was filling out forms, explaining school assignments, or helping with financial documents. These responsibilities were heavy for someone my age, but they taught me resilience, independence, and leadership. They showed me how important it is to adapt quickly, to listen carefully, and to take initiative when others are depending on you. Most importantly, they revealed that education is not just a personal achievement—it is a bridge that connects families to opportunities they never imagined. Still, being an outsider to the system has not been easy. I have felt the pressure of navigating college applications, financial aid, and academic expectations without a roadmap. While many of my peers could lean on parents with experience, I had to figure out each step largely on my own. There were nights when I stayed awake trying to understand scholarship requirements or deciphering government forms, moments when the weight of being “the first” felt overwhelming. Yet, I have learned that obstacles can either break you or build you. I chose to let them build me. Each challenge became fuel, strengthening my determination to prove that I belonged and that my background was not a weakness but a source of power. Looking forward, I hope to use my education not only to build a stable career for myself but also to empower others facing similar barriers. I plan to enter the fields of cybersecurity and finance, areas where protection and opportunity intersect. Cybersecurity will allow me to defend businesses and communities from digital threats, while finance will give me the tools to help families like mine build stability and wealth. My dream is to return to immigrant communities and provide guidance, mentorship, and resources so that others will not have to struggle alone the way I did. My experience as a first-generation immigrant has given me a clear vision: to create opportunities where others may feel limited, and to prove that hope and hard work can overcome any obstacle. Higher education is not simply a goal—it is a responsibility. By investing in me, you are not only helping me achieve my dreams but also planting seeds of change that will grow in the lives of countless others.

As a young man, I have dreamed of building a career that not only provides for my family but also protects and uplifts my community. Losing my uncle in a tragic accident reminded me how short life can be, and it pushed me to chase my dreams with determination. That experience shaped my decision to pursue a degree in cybersecurity and finance at Bowie State University. My goal is to work in cybersecurity, defending people, businesses, and communities from digital threats. In today’s world, technology is everywhere, and I want to make sure it is safe for everyone—especially families and small businesses that don’t always have the resources to protect themselves. At the same time, with my background in finance, I hope to teach others about building stability and wealth, because I know how financial strength can change the direction of a family and a community. To me, being Black means carrying both the challenges and the triumphs of those who came before me. It means standing tall with pride, knowing that I represent resilience, creativity, and excellence. Choosing to attend an HBCU was an easy decision for me. At Bowie State, I am surrounded by professors and peers who look like me, inspire me, and push me to be my best. It is a place where my culture is valued and my future is being prepared. As a young Black man, I believe my purpose is clear: to honor my past, serve my present, and build a stronger future.

In a small town like Reserve, Louisiana, opportunities often feel limited, especially when you grow up in a single-parent household with financial challenges. But despite those limitations, my life has been filled with powerful influences and defining moments—none more impactful than the steady presence of my late uncle, Albert Batiste Jr., affectionately known as Aljune. He was more than an uncle—he was my mentor, motivator, emotional support, and the man who believed I could be great long before I thought it myself. Uncle Aljune was a vibrant soul, a gifted saxophonist, and a proud member of Southern University’s marching band. He filled every room with stories, music, and wisdom. He helped my father raise me, provided guidance through tough times, and taught me lessons about life, manhood, and resilience. Eight years ago, he died in a tragic trucking accident while working. His death shook me deeply, but it also shifted something in me. I knew I had to honor his life by building mine with excellence and determination. That loss became the catalyst for my focus and passion. I discovered my passion in cybersecurity—a field that combines problem-solving, protection, and purpose. As the digital world expands, so do threats to personal and community safety. I want to be part of the solution by designing and protecting secure systems, especially for communities like mine that are often overlooked or underrepresented in the tech industry. My interest in STEM has always been rooted in curiosity. I remember taking apart computers to figure out how they worked, watching YouTube videos on how data travels, and wondering who was responsible for keeping all that information safe. But what keeps me committed now is more than curiosity—it’s responsibility. I want to ensure that Black communities have advocates in digital spaces, people who understand their needs and protect their data with integrity and skill. Throughout high school, I’ve demonstrated leadership and service by mentoring younger students, helping classmates with tech assignments, and volunteering at youth STEM events. I believe representation matters, and I take every opportunity to encourage others—especially other young Black students—that they belong in STEM. My work is driven by the belief that we rise by lifting others. This fall, I will begin my studies in cybersecurity at Bowie State University, a historically Black institution that aligns with my values and vision. The program will equip me with technical expertise while surrounding me with a community of mentors and peers who share my background and drive. It will also give me the foundation I need to pursue certifications and leadership roles in the field eventually. Receiving this scholarship would be more than financial relief—it would be fuel. Fuel to keep going. Fuel to stay focused. Fuel to become the leader my younger self needed. It would give me the freedom to study without the constant weight of financial pressure, allowing me to devote time to community service and professional development. I plan to use my education to serve, teach, and protect. I want to be the kind of presence in the world that my uncle was to me—someone who inspires, empowers, and never stops showing up. His life reminds me that even in loss, the legacy lives on. And through this journey, I’m building mine.

Coding a Safer Future: My Journey into Cybersecurity The first time I realized the power of computers was when I tried to reset our home Wi-Fi router. I was just 13 years old, frustrated because my sister was streaming videos that slowed down the network. That simple act of navigating through router settings sparked something in me. I didn’t just want to fix the Wi-Fi—I tried to understand how the whole system worked. I began researching everything I could about networks, security, and how data moves invisibly across the world. That spark has now evolved into a passion for computer science and, more specifically, cybersecurity. As a senior in high school with a 3.7 GPA and a passion for protecting and serving through technology, I plan to major in Computer Science at Bowie State University, with a focus on cybersecurity. What inspires me most about computer science is how it combines logic, creativity, and the potential for significant impact. It’s a field that never stops evolving—and neither do I. Every problem I solve, and every new concept I learn adds a new layer to who I’m becoming. I want to use those skills to protect the digital lives of people who may not even realize they’re at risk. My inspiration to pursue a career in cybersecurity stems from a deeper purpose: a commitment to justice. In my community, I’ve seen how vulnerable families and small businesses are to scams, fraud, and online breaches. Most of the time, they don’t have access to high-tech protections or even basic training to spot digital threats. I want to change that. Cybersecurity isn’t just about firewalls and encryption—it’s about giving people peace of mind. It’s about defending those who can’t afford expensive software or consultants. It’s about building trust in a digital world. The specific area I am interested in working in is ethical hacking and penetration testing. I want to become a white-hat hacker—someone who uses their skills to expose and fix vulnerabilities before malicious hackers can exploit them. In doing so, I can help secure everything from personal identities to government systems. This role excites me because it demands critical thinking, quick adaptation, and a strong moral compass—qualities I strive to develop every day. In addition to my academic goals, I’ve taken steps to strengthen my foundation. I’ve completed online coding boot camps, built small Python-based security tools for practice, and even volunteered at my church to help set up basic IT safety protocols. I also mentor younger students, helping them understand how exciting and meaningful computer science can be. Like Arthur Walasek, I believe in sharing knowledge. One day, I hope to create a nonprofit organization that teaches coding and cybersecurity to students in underserved communities. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue my journey without the financial stress that often hinders students like me from reaching their full potential. But more than that, it would be an honor to carry forward Arthur Walasek’s legacy of curiosity, creativity, and compassion. He wasn’t just a programmer—he was a teacher, a dreamer, and a builder of things that brought joy and safety to others. That’s precisely the kind of computer scientist I want to become. I don’t just want to work in technology—I want to be a force for good within it. I want to build systems that protect, educate, and empower. And I believe that with continued learning, perseverance, and support like this scholarship, I will.

Purpose Over Popularity: Building a Safer and More Just Digital Future The first time I realized how unprotected our communities are in the digital world was when my father’s email was hacked and sensitive family information was leaked. We weren’t high-profile targets—just a working-class Black family trying to stay afloat. That moment opened my eyes to how easily vulnerable people can become victims. From that point forward, I knew I wanted to use technology to protect those who are often overlooked and under-resourced. As an incoming freshman at Bowie State University, I’ve committed to studying Cybersecurity with a minor in Public Policy. I believe that these two disciplines, when used together, can help transform our systems and protect communities of color, particularly in areas such as digital safety, equitable policy, and economic opportunity. I’ve seen firsthand how poverty, lack of access, and systemic neglect compound to create barriers for African American families. I aim to break down those barriers with a career rooted in innovation, service, and advocacy. I plan to make a positive difference in the world in three distinct ways: 1. Protecting Communities Through Cybersecurity Solutions In today’s digital age, data breaches, identity theft, and online exploitation disproportionately affect underserved populations. I plan to develop cybersecurity tools that nonprofits, churches, schools, and small Black-owned businesses can use to safeguard their digital environments. My long-term goal is to establish a nonprofit organization that offers free or low-cost digital security services to vulnerable communities and educates them on how to safeguard their personal information and networks. 2. Advocating for Fair and Inclusive Technology Policy Technology and public policy must work hand-in-hand. Discriminatory surveillance practices and algorithmic bias in artificial intelligence continue to threaten civil liberties—especially for people of color. With a foundation in public policy, I will fight for ethical tech laws that promote digital equity, protect marginalized populations, and dismantle harmful surveillance structures. I envision a future where tech regulation serves all people—fairly and transparently. 3. Empowering Future Black Leaders in STEM and Justice Representation is powerful. Far too often, young Black boys don’t see themselves reflected in STEM or justice-driven careers. I want to be the mentor I never had. Through coding workshops, school visits, and peer-led training programs, I plan to invest in the next generation of Black youth—especially those growing up in areas like mine. They need to know that their voices, creativity, and leadership are essential for shaping a better world. I am already making a positive impact on social issues in my community. I volunteer weekly at a local food bank and also serve in my church’s youth mentoring program. One of my proudest moments was organizing a technology workshop for senior citizens, where we taught them how to navigate smartphones safely, set up telehealth appointments, and identify online scams. These small efforts remind me that real change begins with proximity—serving the people right in front of you. Receiving this scholarship would not just help cover tuition—it would help me continue walking on purpose. It would represent belief in a young Black man who refuses to be defined by statistics but by service. The racial wealth gap and systemic injustice are real, but so are hope and solutions—and I plan to be part of both. I don’t seek status. I aim to impact. Through Cybersecurity, public policy, and unwavering faith, I am determined to help build a world where every community feels secure, seen, and supported.

Rooted in Faith, Driven by Purpose: My Commitment to Community Through Technology The hum of my father’s old desktop computer became the rhythm of my curiosity. As a child growing up in a modest home in Reserve, Louisiana, I didn’t have the latest gadgets or the fastest internet. But I had determination—and a father who, despite raising two kids alone, never let me feel limited by our circumstances. He taught me that faith wasn’t just something we practiced in church; it was a way of life. It was the reason we kept going when times were hard. That faith has now become the foundation of my dreams—to serve, protect, and uplift communities like mine through the power of technology. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am a high school senior preparing to attend Bowie State University, one of the nation’s great Historically Black Colleges and Universities. I will be majoring in Cybersecurity, with the long-term goal of building safer digital spaces for marginalized communities. My passion for Cybersecurity began not with a class assignment but with a question: “Who’s protecting us?” I realized that as technology advances, so do threats—and those without resources are often the most vulnerable. I knew I had to be part of the solution. I want to create a future where young Black students can learn coding not just as a career skill but as a tool for empowerment, where elderly community members feel confident using the internet without fear of scams. Where small Black-owned businesses can operate securely without the risk of digital attacks, this isn’t just a career path for me—it’s a calling. Throughout high school, I’ve committed myself to both academic growth and community service. I helped lead youth technology workshops at my church, teaching basic digital skills to seniors and middle school students. I’ve volunteered at food drives, mentored younger boys in my neighborhood, and worked alongside my dad to help single parents with household repairs. These moments have shown me that real impact isn’t about having a title or a platform—it’s about showing up. That’s what I plan to do every day of my life. Attending an HBCU like Bowie State means more than a degree. It means walking in the footsteps of trailblazers who turned obstacles into opportunities. It means learning in a space that affirms my identity, honors my ancestors, and equips me to lead with excellence. I want to take everything I gain—knowledge, connections, experience—and pour it back into my community. My dream is to one day launch a nonprofit that provides free cybersecurity education and financial literacy workshops to underserved neighborhoods, starting right here in Louisiana. The legacy of Willie Mae Rawls reminds me of my own great-grandmother—a woman whose strength, prayers, and unwavering hope held our family together. Like Ms. Rawls, she believed that every generation should go further than the last. This scholarship is not just a financial gift—it’s a torch. And I am ready to carry it. I may come from a small town, but my vision is big. I believe in a world where technology bridges gaps instead of widening them—where education is not a privilege for the few but a right for all. I believe that through faith, focus, and fearless determination, I can be part of building that world. Thank you for considering me for the Willie Mae Rawls Scholarship. I’m not just preparing for college—I’m preparing to serve, to lead, and to leave a legacy of impact.

From Curiosity to Code: My Journey into Technology The first time I realized the power of technology was in my junior year of high school when my father’s job information was compromised in a data breach. I didn’t understand the full scale of what had happened, but I knew one thing: the world was becoming more connected and not always in safe ways. That moment lit a fire in me. I began asking questions, researching cybersecurity, and immersing myself in online computer science videos and courses. That curiosity quickly turned into a passion when I took on my first real project: developing a basic home network monitoring system using Python and Raspberry Pi. The project started as an idea—I wanted to build something that could track who connected to my family’s home Wi-Fi and notify us of suspicious activity. I had no formal training at the time, just a lot of late nights, online tutorials, and trial and error. I coded a simple script to ping all devices connected to the router and log their MAC addresses. Then, using a database, I cross-referenced known devices and sent alerts for unknown ones via a text messaging API. After weeks of debugging and testing, I successfully implemented the alert system. The joy I felt when I received the first real-time alert was indescribable. It wasn’t perfect, but I had built something that worked and, more importantly—something that mattered. That project made me realize how empowering technology can be. It’s not just about computers or code—it’s about solving real-world problems, protecting people, and creating tools that make life better. Technology empowers ordinary people to achieve extraordinary things. It’s also where my heart is. Whether it’s protecting data, building applications that serve communities, or helping small businesses streamline operations, I’m drawn to the challenge and potential of tech. Currently, I’m pursuing a degree in Computer Science with a focus on cybersecurity. Every class, every lab, and every project fuels my vision for the future. I hope to one day work with government or nonprofit organizations to build secure systems that protect sensitive information, especially for vulnerable communities. I’ve seen firsthand how devastating data breaches and system failures can be for families like mine, and I want to be part of the solution. Working in technology inspires me because it’s a field where growth never stops. There’s always a new challenge, a new vulnerability to patch, a new tool to learn. It forces you to be both analytical and creative—two qualities I’ve come to value in myself. Most importantly, technology provides a platform for impact. Whether you’re designing an app for emergency responders or a program that makes learning more accessible for students, tech enables service. Receiving the Chadwick D. McNab Scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of college, but it would also be an honor to continue the legacy of someone who believed in the power of growth, progress, and excellence in engineering. I want to use my education and future career to carry that same torch—building with purpose, serving with passion, and always pushing toward a better tomorrow.

Turning Pain Into Purpose: What I Learned From Losing My Uncle The hardest moment of my life came without warning. I was sixteen years old when my uncle, whom I lovingly called “Uncle June,” was tragically killed in a trucking accident. He wasn’t just a relative; he was one of the most consistent, loving, and supportive figures in my life. I lived with him and my grandmother, and we shared everyday moments that now feel like precious memories—cutting grass together, going to the park, talking after dinner. He wasn’t rich, famous, or flashy, but he was present. He gave me his time, his wisdom, and most importantly, his belief in me. When he passed, I felt like the ground beneath me had collapsed. Grief settled in like a heavy fog. I found myself falling behind in school, withdrawing from my usual activities, and feeling a kind of loneliness I had never experienced before. I questioned everything, including whether I had the strength to continue my goals, or whether college—something he always pushed me to pursue—was even possible anymore. That season of life tested me emotionally, mentally, and academically. But through the pain, I found clarity. I realized that giving up on myself would mean giving up on his legacy. He worked hard every day not just to provide but to inspire, and I knew the best way to honor him was to keep going. So, I got back up. Slowly but surely, I started focusing again—on school, on my goals, and on the future we had dreamed of together. I began studying computer science with a passion I hadn’t known before. I began learning about cybersecurity, fascinated by how it protects individuals and their sensitive information. As I dug deeper, I realized I could turn my pain into purpose—not just for myself, but for others. My goal now is to major in Computer Science with a concentration in Cybersecurity and minor in Finance at Bowie State University. I want to build a career that secures data for families, small businesses, and underserved communities—people like my own, who often don’t have access to high-level protection. The loss of my uncle profoundly shaped my character in powerful ways. I’ve learned how to be resilient even when life feels unfair. I’ve learned how to be there for my family during difficult times. And I’ve learned that pain doesn’t have to break you—it can become the reason you rise. Today, I am not only on track to graduate high school with a strong GPA, but I am also committed to community service. I’ve volunteered through my church, tutored younger students, and led a tech workshop for kids in my neighborhood to help them understand coding and online safety. These aren’t just activities for me—they are the beginning of a legacy I plan to build in honor of the people who shaped me. As a first-generation college student, I know that the road ahead won’t be easy. But I carry with me the strength of my uncle’s example, and the determination to make sure his belief in me was never in vain. The Xavier M. Monroe Memorial Scholarship would not only help me financially—it would allow me to carry another legacy forward by supporting students like myself who’ve turned obstacles into opportunities. Thank you for considering my story. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

Service Through Cybersecurity: My Path to Positive Impact I learned the value of service long before I chose my career path. Raised in a single-parent home in Reserve, Louisiana, I watched my father—a minister and mentor—work tirelessly to support my sister and me. When he wasn’t preaching or volunteering, he worked other jobs to keep the lights on. He taught me that real leadership begins with service, and real success means helping others succeed. I carry that lesson with me in everything I do. Whether working part-time in hospitality or volunteering through my church’s outreach ministry, I’ve found purpose in serving others. From helping distribute meals during the holidays to assisting elderly members of our congregation with technology, I’ve seen firsthand how small acts of service can change lives. These experiences have shaped who I am and who I aspire to be. As a high school senior with a 3.7 GPA, I plan to attend Bowie State University, where I will major in Computer Science with a concentration in Cybersecurity and minor in Finance. My goal is to use education as a launchpad to protect people and empower communities through technology. We live in a digital world, but many people—especially in low-income neighborhoods like mine—are left vulnerable online. Small businesses, families, and nonprofits often lack the knowledge or resources to protect their information. My career mission is to fill that gap. I want to become a cybersecurity expert who helps defend these groups from fraud, identity theft, and data breaches. I will establish a tech firm that offers affordable cybersecurity services and community training programs tailored to underserved populations. I also plan to continue my work in youth mentorship. After leading a community tech workshop where I taught local students about online safety and basic coding, I realized the power of knowledge. Some of those students had never considered a career in technology before that experience. I aim to expand that impact by establishing mentorship programs, sponsoring tech boot camps, and collaborating with Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) to increase diversity in the fields of cybersecurity and finance. Furthering my education is the key that unlocks all of this. College will give me the knowledge, certification, and network I need to lead and serve effectively. I know that the road ahead won’t be easy. My family’s financial limitations mean I will need every ounce of determination, discipline, and outside support to reach the finish line. But I am ready. I applied for this scholarship because I believe in the power of higher education, not just to change my life, but to change the lives I plan to reach. I’m a first-generation college student who understands what it means to work hard, serve others, and turn struggle into strength. With your support, I will carry that mindset into every classroom, internship, and opportunity. The investment you make in me will multiply through the students I mentor, the businesses I protect, and the communities I help thrive. Thank you for considering my application and for helping students like me turn ambition into action. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

Protecting the Future, One Line of Code at a Time When I was 14 years old, I assisted my church in installing new software for a community food distribution program. I didn’t know much at the time—I was following instructions from YouTube—but I remember how empowered I felt when the system worked. That moment lit a spark in me. I began to ask questions, explore coding, and dig into how technology works. I quickly realized that behind every website, every network, and every secure login was a world of opportunity—and a world of risk. That’s when I knew I wanted to become a cybersecurity expert. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I’m a senior at East St. John High School in Reserve, Louisiana. I plan to major in Computer Science with a concentration in Cybersecurity at Bowie State University and minor in Finance. My goal is to use technology not just to build systems but to protect them—and, more importantly, to protect the people who depend on them. In today’s world, cybersecurity is more than a tech issue—it’s a human one. As more communities, businesses, and individuals rely on digital platforms for banking, healthcare, education, and communication, the need for protection grows. Unfortunately, many of the people most at risk—low-income families, small businesses, nonprofits, and faith-based organizations—don’t have the resources to defend themselves. I plan to change that. I aim to establish a cybersecurity consulting firm that offers affordable or complimentary security services to underrepresented communities. This will include running vulnerability scans, setting up firewall protections, teaching families how to recognize phishing scams, and assisting small businesses in securing their customer data. I also plan to launch a digital literacy initiative that teaches students in middle and high school how to navigate the internet safely, understand cyber ethics, and consider careers in tech. My dream is to create a “tech shield” for my community—starting in Louisiana and eventually expanding nationwide. I believe that protecting digital spaces is just as crucial as protecting physical ones, especially at a time when identity theft, online scams, and cyberbullying are so prevalent. Through my work, I want to empower people to feel safe, informed, and in control of their online lives. But my impact won’t stop at local service. I plan to partner with Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) and other minority-serving institutions to offer internship opportunities, mentorship programs, and training initiatives that increase Black and Brown representation in the tech field. I want to build pathways for students who, like me, may have once thought that computer science was out of reach. I believe in lifting as I climb, and I will measure my success not just by how much I protect, but by how many I empower. Receiving the Deborah Thomas Memorial Scholarship would bring me one step closer to these goals. Like Deborah, I believe in education as a vehicle for change. I am driven, focused, and prepared to face the academic challenges ahead, but I need help bridging the financial gap. This scholarship would alleviate some of the burden and enable me to focus entirely on expanding my knowledge, refining my skills, and preparing to make a meaningful impact. Thank you for considering my application. I am ready to code, defend, lead, and serve—and I will not stop until the digital world is a safer place for everyone. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

Coding for the Climate: Building Sustainable Futures Through Technology and Finance I believe that real change starts with one decision—one step toward purpose. My name is Malachi Batiste, and I am an incoming Computer Science major with a concentration in Cybersecurity and a minor in Finance at Bowie State University, a Historically Black College or University (HBCU) where I plan to turn my education into action. Over the next five years, I will create a positive environmental impact by combining digital innovation with financial insight to help underserved communities adopt sustainable practices and protect their futures. Technology plays a significant role in shaping our interactions with the environment, from smart cities to energy-efficient systems. I plan to leverage my training in computer science to develop tools that promote energy conservation, reduce digital waste, and facilitate eco-friendly financial planning. I will start locally by creating a community-facing mobile app that enables families and small businesses to track their energy usage, carbon footprint, and cost-saving opportunities in real time. I will design the app with underserved communities in mind—using clear visuals, low-data functionality, and culturally relevant features to ensure accessibility. While technology drives awareness, finance drives behavior. Many people want to live more sustainably, but believe they cannot afford it. That’s where my background in finance comes in. I will host financial wellness workshops that teach community members how to budget for sustainability, whether that means investing in home insulation, switching to reusable materials, or participating in community solar programs. I will also partner with local banks and nonprofits to help families access green grants and microloans for eco-friendly upgrades. Over the next five years, I also plan to launch a campus initiative at Bowie State called “Green Bytes.” This program will engage students in solving environmental challenges through coding competitions, hackathons, and internship pipelines with eco-conscious companies. We’ll address issues like e-waste management, food waste in campus dining, and digital sustainability practices for small businesses. By bringing together students from tech, finance, marketing, and healthcare backgrounds, we will build a coalition of young Black innovators focused on sustainability. My work doesn’t stop at the local level. I aim to make a global impact by connecting my efforts with sustainability-focused hackathons and contributing to open-source environmental technology projects that serve developing nations. Whether it’s building platforms that help farmers predict droughts using climate data or supporting secure digital infrastructure for green energy startups, I want my code to make a difference far beyond my zip code. I also plan to mentor younger students of color in high school and early college through tech workshops that demonstrate how they can utilize their skills to care for the planet. I want them to see that environmental stewardship isn’t just for scientists or policymakers—it’s for innovators, designers, business owners, and community leaders like them. I applied for this scholarship not just because I need financial help, although I do, but because I believe in FLIK Hospitality Group’s vision to remove barriers for Black and Brown leaders. Your support would help me access certifications, tech tools, and research materials that will sharpen my ability to lead with both heart and strategy. It would also allow me to focus on building real solutions, not just dreaming them up. My mission is clear: I will create scalable, community-driven solutions that merge sustainability, financial literacy, and technology. I will help people not only survive but also thrive—both economically and ecologically. With your help, I will become the kind of leader who transforms innovation into impact. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

Pushing Beyond the Finish Line: Why I’m Continuing My Education Growing up in Reserve, Louisiana, I often heard my father say, “Son, education is your bridge out of limitation.” As a single parent raising two children, he modeled discipline, sacrifice, and faith. He worked long hours in ministry, mentoring others while still finding time to push me toward my purpose. That purpose began to come into focus in high school when I discovered a deep interest in how technology works—and how vulnerable our communities are without the knowledge to protect it. Now, as I prepare to graduate from Bowie State University with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science with a concentration in Cybersecurity and a minor in Finance, I realize that my academic journey cannot stop here. Suppose I fulfill my calling to serve and protect underrepresented communities in the digital age. In that case, I must continue my education and sharpen both my technical and leadership capabilities. I plan to pursue a Master’s degree in Cybersecurity and Risk Management, with a long-term goal of becoming a Chief Information Security Officer (CISO) for a major organization or establishing my firm that provides digital protection and training to small Black-owned businesses, churches, and nonprofits. The ever-evolving nature of cyber threats demands specialized, up-to-date training. I need this next level of education not just to stay relevant in the field but to become a thought leader in it. Graduate education represents more than just academic advancement for me—it’s a gateway to innovation, empowerment, and equity. I’ve already seen the positive impact of using my knowledge to serve others. In college, I led youth tech workshops for students in my hometown, teaching them about coding, online safety, and career paths in the tech industry. Many of them had never heard of Cybersecurity before. Watching their confidence grow helped confirm that I am called not just to work in this field, but to educate and inspire the next generation through it. However, I am also very aware of the financial barriers to continuing education. Federal financial aid primarily supports undergraduate study, and the transition to graduate school is daunting, especially for first-generation students like me. I want to walk into graduate school without the fear of accumulating unmanageable debt. I want to focus on academic excellence, professional development, and service, not survival. That’s why this scholarship means so much to me. It would not only help fund my future, but it would reaffirm that my vision is valid and worth investing in. The legacy of Charles E. Nettles, a dedicated historian and educator, deeply inspires me. He believed in shaping minds, telling stories, and creating space for truth and transformation through education. I, too, believe in the power of learning, not just to inform but to liberate. My mission is to use advanced education to amplify that power in the realm of technology and security, areas that are becoming increasingly critical to the success and safety of our communities. In short, I am not continuing my education simply for personal gain. I am continuing because my growth has the potential to open doors, create systems, and protect futures. My journey is far from over. With this scholarship, I’ll be one step closer to fulfilling my purpose—and carrying the legacy of leaders like Charles Nettles into the digital future. Thank you for considering my application. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

Building a Secure Future While Serving My Community Growing up in Reserve, Louisiana, I often found myself asking, “What can I do to make things better for people like me?” As a young African American male being raised in a single-parent home by my father, a minister, mentor, and my biggest inspiration, I quickly learned that education was more than just a tool for personal advancement. It was a bridge to transformation, not only for me but for my community. I’m proud to be graduating with a GPA above 3.0 and am committed to attending Bowie State University, one of the nation’s most distinguished Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). My goal is to major in cybersecurity and minor in finance, with the long-term dream of creating a cybersecurity consulting firm that empowers small businesses, schools, and nonprofits—especially in underserved communities—to protect their digital resources. What sparked my interest in technology was a simple question from a child I was tutoring at our church: “How do computers protect themselves?” I didn’t know the answer right away, but the curiosity that the question stirred led me down a path of learning HTML, researching firewalls, and discovering the world of ethical hacking. The more I learned, the more I realized how vulnerable our communities are to cyber threats and how few of us are equipped to defend ourselves digitally. That’s when I decided to commit my career to closing that gap. My educational goal is to excel academically at Bowie State while gaining hands-on experience through internships and community tech initiatives. I plan to earn industry certifications, such as CompTIA Security+ and Cisco CCNA, which will enhance my knowledge and open doors to professional opportunities. But more than that, I want to use my education to open doors for others. My professional goal is to launch a cybersecurity firm that offers free or low-cost services to Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), churches, and small businesses and to train the next generation of African American youth in technology. I don’t just want to build firewalls—I want to build futures. Service is not something I discovered later in life. It’s something I was raised in. My father instilled in me the value of showing up, giving back, and speaking life into others. Whether it was helping with food distributions, tutoring at our church, or volunteering with local STEM youth programs, I learned early that real success includes lifting others as you climb. One of my proudest moments was organizing a summer tech workshop at our local community center. I taught kids basic coding and internet safety and introduced them to careers in the tech industry. Seeing their faces light up when they created their first website or identified a phishing scam reminded me that empowerment is contagious. That experience didn’t just teach them—it taught me. It showed me that public service isn’t just about charity—it’s about legacy. I am deeply committed to civic service because I understand that communities don’t heal from the outside in—they heal from the inside out. I aspire to be the kind of professional who not only builds a profitable business but also reinvests in schools, mentors young people, and influences policy on cybersecurity and digital access. One of my future goals is to establish a nonprofit organization that will collaborate with Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) to offer on-campus cybersecurity training, digital literacy seminars, and scholarships for students pursuing technology-related fields. I believe I am the best candidate for the Eleven Shades of Fate Scholarship, not because I have all the answers but because I am driven to ask the right questions—and take action. I represent the kind of student your scholarship was created for: ambitious, underrepresented, and committed to making an impact. I understand that attending college, especially an HBCU, is not just about what I will receive—it’s about what I will give. I am walking into this next chapter of my life with a clear sense of purpose and a strong foundation of faith, service, and determination. I want my life to reflect the ideals of Alpha Phi Alpha: manly deeds, scholarship, and love for all humanity. Thank you for considering me for this honor. I hope to not only receive this scholarship but to make you proud of the investment you make in me—for years to come. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

A Path Paved by Purpose: My Journey into Computer Science My journey into computer science started not in a classroom but in a church basement. I volunteered at a community program organized by our church in Reserve, Louisiana, where I assisted elementary students with their schoolwork. One day, a little boy asked if I could help him understand how computers "talk" to each other. I didn't have a clear answer at the time, but that question lit a spark in me. I went home that evening and started researching how networks, data, and security work. The more I learned, the more I realized I wanted to dedicate my life to understanding and mastering the systems that underpin our digital world. What began as a curiosity has now become my calling. I'm preparing to major in cybersecurity and computer science at Bowie State University, with a long-term goal of becoming a security analyst and eventually launching my cybersecurity consulting firm. My dream is to help protect both small businesses and underserved communities from cyber threats. I want to build a platform that teaches students like the one in that basement not just how computers work, but how they can use technology to create secure, purpose-filled lives. What drives me is more than interest; it's a sense of responsibility. I was raised in a single-parent household by my father, a minister and mentor who made daily sacrifices to provide for my sister and me. I saw firsthand what resilience looks like. But I also saw what limited access to technology and financial resources can mean for kids who look like me. That's why I've devoted time outside of school to volunteering—whether through church food drives, tutoring, or leading a youth tech workshop where I taught kids basic coding and online safety. These experiences weren't just service—they were seeds sown into the lives of future technologists. I believe I'm the best candidate for the Chris Jackson Scholarship, not just because of what I've done but because of what I intend to do. I don't want to earn a degree—I want to become a bridge. A bridge between opportunity and equity. Between questions and answers. Between curiosity and career. Chris Jackson's story resonates deeply with me, especially his early struggle to afford an education that ultimately led to a life of impact. Like him, I've faced challenges, but I've met them with faith, grit, and an unshakable desire to help others rise with me. I know that this scholarship will not only ease the financial burden of college—it will empower me to continue the kind of work Chris lived for: building people, advancing knowledge, and shaping futures. Thank you for considering my application. I pray to honor his legacy not just in words but in action. Sincerely, Malachi Batiste

The Achievement That Changed Me: Launching a Community Tech Workshop When I first taught a group of middle school students how to build a basic website at our local community center, I didn’t expect the moment to change the direction of my life. But it did. That day, I realized that what I knew—basic coding, cybersecurity awareness, and creative tech tools—had the power to open doors for others. Launching that small workshop for underserved youth in Reserve, Louisiana, became the personal achievement I’m most proud of, not only because it helped others but because it helped me discover my purpose. I grew up in a single-parent household, raised by my father, who juggled ministry, mentoring, and multiple jobs to keep us stable. His commitment to community and character shaped everything in me. Inspired by his example, I began volunteering through our church to help with food drives, tutoring, and mentoring younger kids. However, the idea for the tech workshop came to me when I realized how few kids in our neighborhood were being introduced to the digital skills that are shaping today’s careers. Many of them didn’t even have access to laptops outside of school. With the help of a few church leaders and donated devices, I created a five-week summer program that covered the basics of HTML, online safety, and problem-solving with tech. I used colorful slides, interactive games, and relatable stories to keep their attention—and it worked. Several of the students later told me they wanted to pursue careers in technology. That workshop showed me the impact of education and equity in action. The experience gave me more than a sense of accomplishment—it gave me direction. I now plan to major in cybersecurity and minor in finance at Bowie State University, a historically Black college that aligns with both my heritage and my mission. I want to build a career that protects communities and businesses from digital threats while empowering others to pursue technology without fear or limitation. One of the students from my first workshop recently messaged me, saying, “You made me think I could do this tech stuff.” That message reminded me why I’m on this path. I believe mentorship is one of the most potent forms of legacy, and if I can help even one person see themselves differently—stronger, smarter, more capable—then I’ve succeeded. Winning the Gregory Flowers Memorial Scholarship would be more than a financial gift. It would be a continuation of everything Mr. Flowers stood for: service, mentoring, and believing in the untapped potential of young people of color. I carry that same mission in my heart. And like him, I don’t want to achieve for myself—I want to create spaces where others can grow, thrive, and lead