My name is Maryum Shadeed, and my journey toward a career in mental health began with personal experience. Growing up in a community where mental health was rarely discussed, I witnessed the deep impact of silence and stigma. A close family member struggled with depression for years without support, and I felt helpless watching them navigate pain that no one seemed to understand. That experience taught me that mental health challenges are not just personal they are shaped by culture, access, and systems that often fail to meet people’s needs. These experiences inspired me to pursue social work so I could bridge those gaps and serve as both a therapist and advocate. My goal is to provide trauma-informed, culturally responsive care that acknowledges the unique contexts of my clients’ lives. I want to be the kind of therapist who listens deeply, validates experiences that have been dismissed, and helps clients rediscover their strength. My lived experience reminds me daily that empathy is powerful, and that healing begins with feeling seen and understood. If I could make one major change to today’s mental healthcare system, it would be to integrate community-based and culturally grounded care models into mainstream practice. Too often, therapy is structured around Western frameworks that don’t reflect the values, language, or lived experiences of marginalized communities. For many BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ individuals, this disconnect reinforces mistrust and prevents engagement in care. I envision a system that invests in community-driven mental health centers, where services are delivered by providers who share cultural and linguistic backgrounds with the people they serve. These centers would partner with schools, faith institutions, and grassroots organizations to normalize mental health conversations and make care accessible outside of traditional clinic settings. By blending professional expertise with cultural understanding, we can create spaces that feel safe, affirming, and empowering. This shift would not only improve outcomes but also redefine mental health care as a collective responsibility rather than an individual burden. Teletherapy has become one of the most transformative developments in mental health care. One of its greatest benefits is accessibility clients in rural or under-resourced areas can connect with providers they might never have reached otherwise. For individuals balancing work, caregiving, or mobility challenges, teletherapy removes logistical barriers and offers privacy and flexibility. However, the shift to virtual care also presents challenges, particularly for communities already facing digital inequities. Many clients lack reliable internet, private spaces, or technology literacy, which can make teletherapy inaccessible or ineffective. Additionally, the intimacy and nonverbal connection that occur in person can be harder to replicate online. To make teletherapy more equitable, we must invest in digital access initiatives, including free or low-cost devices, internet subsidies, and training for both clients and providers. We also need to innovate culturally responsive telehealth models, such as multilingual platforms and group sessions facilitated by community liaisons. By merging technology with cultural competence, teletherapy can become a tool that truly bridges divides rather than widening them.

My name is Maryum Shadeed, and I am a graduate student pursuing a degree in Social Work. As a single parent, advocate, and community-minded individual, I’ve experienced firsthand the challenges that come with being a low-income student trying to balance life, family, and education. Despite those challenges, my purpose has always remained the same to create change that uplifts others, especially those whose voices are often unheard. Growing up and navigating adulthood in communities affected by economic hardship and systemic inequities taught me early on the importance of compassion and service. I’ve seen what it means to struggle for stability, and I’ve also seen how the right support can help someone regain hope and direction. That understanding is what drew me to social work it is a field that blends empathy with action, allowing me to turn my personal experiences into purposeful work that benefits others. Volunteering has been an essential part of my journey. Whether assisting with community resource drives, mentoring youth, or supporting families navigating crisis, I’ve always found meaning in giving back. Those experiences remind me that service doesn’t always require grand gestures it requires showing up consistently, listening, and doing what you can with what you have. Volunteering allows me to stay connected to the realities people face while also reinforcing my belief that every small act of care contributes to larger collective change. As a graduate student, my dream is to work within community-based organizations that serve vulnerable populations families affected by poverty, domestic abuse, or trauma. I want to use my degree to advocate for policies and programs that provide stability, healing, and opportunity. My long-term goal is to develop initiatives that bridge the gap between social services and lived experience, ensuring that help feels human and accessible. Too often, systems are designed without including the voices of those most impacted. I want to change that by bringing compassion, representation, and cultural awareness into the spaces where decisions are made. This scholarship would make a significant difference in my educational journey. As a low-income student and single parent, I often have to make difficult financial choices between bills, childcare, and tuition. Having this support would not only relieve financial pressure but also allow me to stay focused on my studies and volunteer work without compromising my family’s needs. It would give me the stability to continue pursuing my calling with the same passion and drive that has brought me this far. Ultimately, I hope to inspire others especially single parents and students from low-income backgrounds to know that their circumstances do not define their potential. Every obstacle I’ve faced has strengthened my commitment to being a change-maker, and I want my work to reflect that resilience. Through faith, perseverance, and service, I believe that lasting impact begins with one person’s decision to care deeply and act intentionally. Receiving the ADP Scholarship would not just help fund my education it would affirm that my journey, my service, and my vision to create a more compassionate world are seen and supported.

Balancing Education and Family as a Single Parent As a single parent, my journey has been one of perseverance, faith, and purpose. Every day, I navigate the delicate balance between nurturing my child’s growth and pursuing my own education so that I can create a better life for both of us. While the responsibilities can feel overwhelming at times, I see my dual role as both a parent and student as an act of love and legacy. I am showing my child that even when life challenges us, determination and education are powerful tools for transformation. Pursuing my degree while raising my child requires intentional structure, resilience, and community. I have learned to build routines that support both of our needs setting study hours after bedtime, involving my child in my educational journey by explaining what I’m learning, and modeling what commitment looks like. It’s not always easy; there are nights when exhaustion sets in, and mornings when I question how I’ll manage it all. But my “why” keeps me grounded. I want my child to grow up knowing that our circumstances do not define us our response to them does. This scholarship would relieve some of the financial strain that comes with being a single parent and a full-time student. Tuition, textbooks, childcare, and basic living expenses add up quickly. Having this support would allow me to focus more on my coursework and less on the constant worry of how to stretch every dollar. More than financial assistance, this scholarship represents validation that my efforts matter that others believe in the possibility I’m working so hard to create. My long-term goal is to use my education to uplift others, especially families who are navigating similar challenges. I want to use my degree not only as a means of personal advancement but also as a tool to give back to advocate for access, equity, and empowerment within my community. Every class I complete brings me closer to that vision, and every moment I spend studying reminds me that I’m not just building a career; I’m building a foundation for generational change. Balancing school and parenting isn’t just about managing time it’s about managing energy, emotion, and faith. It means giving myself grace when things don’t go perfectly, celebrating small victories, and remembering that my child is learning perseverance through me. I remind myself often that this journey is not just mine it’s ours. The degree I’m pursuing will open doors for me, but it will also show my child that dreams are achievable, no matter how complex the path may be. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue moving forward with confidence and stability. It would lighten my financial load, allowing me to dedicate more focus to my studies and family without sacrificing one for the other. With this support, I can stay committed to finishing strong and fulfilling both my educational and personal purpose. Ultimately, I am not just pursuing a degree I am pursuing a future where my child and I both thrive, knowing that every sacrifice, every late night, and every hard-earned success was worth it.

My name is Maryum Shadeed, and I am a graduate student pursuing a Master’s in Social Work. My passion for mental health advocacy stems from growing up in a community where mental health struggles were often invisible. I remember sitting with a close family member as they quietly battled depression, feeling frustrated and helpless as I watched them suffer in silence. There were no words to describe what they were going through, and even fewer resources available to help. That experience stayed with me it taught me that stigma, silence, and systemic barriers can be just as harmful as the challenges themselves. As I grew older, I began to see how widespread these issues were, especially in marginalized communities. In many BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ spaces, conversations around mental health are often met with fear, shame, or dismissal. I realized that access to care is not only about affordability or availability it’s also about trust, cultural competence, and creating environments where people feel seen and understood. These personal experiences fueled my commitment to serve communities that have historically been overlooked and underserved. Through my social work training, I have immersed myself in trauma-informed, culturally responsive practice. My coursework and field placements have deepened my understanding of how historical oppression and systemic inequities affect mental health outcomes. During my internship at a community mental health center, I worked with clients navigating homelessness, generational trauma, and identity-based discrimination. These experiences reinforced the importance of meeting people where they are listening without judgment, validating their experiences, and helping them find strength in their own stories. Beyond direct service, I am passionate about advocating for systemic change. I have participated in advocacy campaigns aimed at increasing funding for community-based mental health programs and improving accessibility for low-income families. I’ve also facilitated mental health workshops for youth, focusing on self-awareness, emotional regulation, and destigmatizing therapy. These experiences have shown me that education and outreach are powerful tools for transformation. When people learn that mental health challenges are not moral failings but human experiences, they begin to seek help and support one another. My long-term goal is to develop programs that increase mental health awareness, reduce stigma, and expand services in under-resourced communities. I envision creating spaces that integrate mental health care with other community needs such as housing, education, and employment support because healing does not happen in isolation. By combining education, outreach, and direct clinical support, I hope to empower individuals and families to heal, grow, and thrive. My career is dedicated to creating a world where mental health care is not a privilege but a right. I believe that every person, regardless of background, deserves the opportunity to feel safe, supported, and valued. Receiving the Arnetha V. Bishop Memorial Scholarship would allow me to continue my education and broaden my impact. This scholarship embodies the values I hold dear: dedication, advocacy, and tangible community change. It represents a commitment to equity and compassion principles that guide both my personal and professional journey. With this support, I will continue developing my skills as a clinician and advocate, carrying forward Arnetha Bishop’s legacy of service and justice. I am committed to ensuring that mental health services are accessible, equitable, and affirming for all especially those who have been historically overlooked. Through this work, I hope to honor the struggles of those who came before me and to build a more compassionate and inclusive future for those who come after.

Losing my father four months after graduating high school in 2012 was one of the most confusing and heartbreaking experiences of my life. We had just begun to repair our relationship after years of distance and tension, and I was finally beginning to understand him as a person and to be understood in return. His passing left me feeling untethered, facing grief while simultaneously navigating the responsibilities of adulthood on my own. I had to learn how to process loss, honor our renewed bond, and continue moving forward without the guidance I had just started to experience. At the time, I didn’t know how to handle the emotional weight. There were moments when grief and confusion made even simple decisions feel impossible. But over time, I realized that faith and perseverance were my only paths forward. I leaned on God to guide me through each day, and I relied on the lessons my father had imparted even if indirectly about resilience, responsibility, and the value of hard work. His passing became a source of inspiration for my long-term goals. Though my father had only completed high school, I became determined to honor his memory by achieving every milestone I could. Over the years, I worked tirelessly, pushing through challenges and navigating life largely on my own. I earned my college degree in 2024, and immediately after, I began pursuing my master’s in social work. Each accomplishment is a testament to him and a reflection of the lessons he instilled in me, reminding me that education and purpose can transcend circumstances and even loss. Navigating life after losing my father also shaped the kind of person I strive to be. I understand what it means to face challenges alone, and it has fueled my commitment to serve others. In pursuing social work, I hope to provide guidance and support for people who, like me, are trying to navigate grief, hardship, and uncertainty. I want to be the presence I wished I had during my own loss someone who helps others feel seen, supported, and empowered to keep pressing forward. Though losing my father was devastating, it also clarified my purpose. His passing taught me resilience, faith, and the importance of honoring those we love through our choices and achievements. Every step I take in school and in life is in remembrance of him, a tribute to the bond we began to rebuild, and a promise to continue breaking cycles and creating a meaningful, intentional life.

There have been seasons in my life when faith wasn’t just a belief it was my survival. I’ve walked through motherhood, heartbreak, financial hardship, and the kind of pain that forces you to face yourself and choose whether to stay broken or rebuild. Through it all, my faith has been the steady hand that carried me when everything else felt uncertain. As a single mother and a graduate student, I’ve had to balance roles that constantly pulled at me caretaker, provider, advocate, and dreamer. There were nights when I’d finally put my child to sleep and then stay up until morning writing papers through tears, wondering if I could really do it all. The weight of responsibility felt heavy, but faith reminded me that I wasn’t walking alone. Even when life didn’t make sense, I believed that God was still working behind the scenes, shaping me through every obstacle. That belief didn’t come easy. It came from heartbreak, loss, and moments of silence when I questioned everything including myself. But each time I broke down, faith built me back stronger. I began to understand that faith doesn’t protect you from struggle; it transforms how you move through it. It taught me to release what I couldn’t control, to trust divine timing, and to see purpose even in the pain. Over time, I realized that my journey was about more than just survival it was about breaking generational curses. Cycles of silence, struggle, and self-doubt end with me. Every degree I earn, every boundary I set, every prayer I pray over my child is part of rewriting my family’s story. Faith gave me the courage to become the version of myself I needed growing up strong, rooted, and full of grace. As a mother, faith taught me patience and unconditional love. As a woman, it taught me forgiveness and peace. And as a future social worker, it continues to teach me how to show up for others who are fighting silent battles of their own. I know what it feels like to carry everything and still show up smiling. That’s why I’m passionate about helping others find hope, healing, and faith in their own stories. Faith taught me that what God has for me will always find me even if I have to walk through fire to reach it. I don’t just want to talk about change; I want to live it, breathe it, and pass it down. My life hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been purposeful. Every step I take is proof that faith works that you can rise, rebuild, and become the change your family’s been praying for. I’m not just trying to break generational curses. Through faith, I’m doing it.

My Story I am Maryum K. Shadeed, a 31-year-old Baltimore native, solo parent, entrepreneur, and recent college graduate with a Bachelor of Science in Family and Consumer Sciences, concentrating in Fashion Merchandising. My journey has been one of perseverance, self-belief, and an unshakable commitment to creating opportunities not only for myself but for others in my community. I was raised to believe in the power of hard work and resilience. Life has tested that belief many times, from navigating the challenges of single motherhood to pushing through the demands of completing my degree while managing my household and building my business. In 2018, I gave birth to my son through an unmedicated water birth a moment that taught me about strength in its rawest form. Since then, I have worked to model determination, compassion, and vision for him every day. My passions are rooted in creativity, service, and empowerment. Through my hobby, Maryum K Shadeed , I merge my love for fashion design, coaching, and curriculum development with my dedication to mentoring youth. I also founded Beyond the Rug Collective, a survivor-led organization that advocates for those affected by domestic violence, sexual abuse, and other forms of trauma. My goal is to give people, especially youth, safe spaces to heal, learn, and thrive mirroring the kind of support I wish I’d had earlier in life. My aspirations are bold: I want to scale my brand into a nationally recognized platform that merges creative arts, entrepreneurship, and life skills training for underserved communities. I envision sewing programs that teach more than design they teach self-reliance, business acumen, and personal development. I also plan to grow Beyond the Rug Collective into a model for survivor-centered community healing, offering resources, events, and advocacy nationwide. The experiences that have shaped me most are the ones that required me to keep moving forward when the path wasn’t clear balancing motherhood with higher education, losing loved ones, and rebuilding after personal and financial challenges. Through each season, I have learned that my voice, my story, and my drive are my greatest tools. This scholarship would not only help ease the financial burden of advancing my education and expanding my community work it would also be a vote of confidence in the vision I’ve been steadily building: one where creativity, resilience, and opportunity change lives, starting with mine and rippling outward. To help insire those who need a little push and allowing to know and feel they arent alone.

Mental health is a core part of my identity and journey not only as a student but as a mother, mentor, and community leader. As someone pursuing a Master of Social Work at Morgan State University, I’ve come to deeply understand that academic success isn’t just about intellect or discipline it’s about being emotionally present, mentally grounded, and spiritually aligned. When my mental health is stable, I’m better equipped to retain information, remain motivated, and respond to life’s inevitable challenges with grace and focus. Mental health matters to me because I know what it feels like to push through life while carrying unspoken trauma. As a child SA survivor, I spent many years learning how to function while in survival mode. That emotional weight didn't just go away when I became an adult, a parent, or a student it evolved. Over time, I realized I had to be intentional about healing. I sought therapy. I leaned into my faith. I began journaling and having vulnerable conversations with people I trusted. These tools became my anchors and they remain a daily part of how I care for myself. As a student, I believe in checking in with myself regularly. I ask questions like How am I really feeling today? What do I need? These check-ins help me stay aligned and avoid burnout, especially while juggling grad school, work, parenting, and community involvement. I no longer see mental health as something separate from school or success it’s the foundation of both. In my community, I’ve made it my mission to advocate for mental health, especially among young people. I mentor young women between the ages of 14 and 21 many of whom are navigating overwhelming life circumstances: early motherhood, homelessness, abandonment, and emotional pain that’s been ignored or dismissed. Some of them have never been told that what they’re feeling is valid or that healing is even possible. I show up for them not just as a mentor, but as a living example of resilience and restoration. Through mentorship and youth programming, I create safe spaces for young women to share their truth without judgment. I model vulnerability and openness, often sharing parts of my own journey to remind them they’re not alone. I encourage therapy, prayer, journaling, and small daily practices like taking mental health walks or setting boundaries. Even when they can’t afford traditional therapy, I help them find free resources, local support, or simply offer a listening ear. Advocacy, to me, isn’t just talking about mental health it’s showing up, over and over, with compassion and consistency. At home, I’m also intentional about breaking generational cycles. I prioritize emotional honesty with my child and other young people in my family. I don’t shy away from talking about hard feelings or asking, “Are you okay?” in a way that leaves space for real answers. I want the next generation in my household and my community to feel what I didn't always feel growing up seen, safe, and supported. My vision as a future licensed clinical social worker is to build community-based mental health initiatives that serve those often overlooked especially youth and families who face financial, emotional, or systemic obstacles. But before I can help others do the deep work, I continue doing that work myself. Mental health is not something I study in class and forget at the door it’s something I live, breathe, and carry with me into every room I enter. Mental health isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. And through my education, mentorship, and lived experience, I will continue advocating for it loudly and unapologetically.

I am currently pursuing a Master of Social Work (MSW) at Morgan State University. While I do not have a minor, my academic focus is centered on clinical practice and community engagement. My passion for social work stems from a personal and professional commitment to serving youth, families, and underserved communities particularly those impacted by trauma, instability, or systemic barriers. This scholarship would provide essential support in helping me complete my studies while balancing responsibilities as a student, mother, and working professional. I currently serve as a Project Manager at a nonprofit youth organization, where I develop and manage programs that focus on mentorship, leadership development, and life skills. In addition to my professional work, I mentor young women in Baltimore between the ages of 14 and 21 many of whom are facing challenging circumstances such as homelessness, early parenthood, or limited support systems. As someone who has experienced childhood trauma myself, I approach my work with deep empathy and a commitment to creating safe, healing centered environments for others. Receiving this scholarship would help alleviate financial pressures tied to tuition and other academic expenses, allowing me to focus more fully on my coursework and fieldwork. My long-term goal is to become a licensed clinical social worker and expand my impact within communities that need intentional, compassionate support.

My experience with mental health has never been a distant concept it's been personal, direct, and layered. As a solo parent, woman of color, community leader, and someone who grew up surrounded by both unspoken pain and resilience, mental health became an uninvited but constant teacher in my life. Rather than run from it, I chose to lean in, observe, heal, and use it as a foundation for my purpose. I’ve learned that mental health isn’t always loud or obvious. It often shows up in the silences in what people don’t say, in the way trauma can live in the body or shape generations without ever being named. I’ve watched this play out in my own family and within the communities I serve. Growing up, I didn’t always have the language for what I was feeling, and culturally, therapy wasn’t something people talked about let alone trusted. But that silence fueled my curiosity. Why do we suffer in silence? Why aren’t more healing spaces accessible to people who look like me? As I navigated life becoming a mother at a young age, losing loved ones, building a nonprofit, and mentoring youth I began to piece together the deeper role mental wellness plays in how we show up in the world. I saw how untreated trauma led to mistrust, how stress shaped parenting styles, and how emotional wounds impacted communication and connection. These realizations didn’t just shape how I move; they’ve defined the kind of impact I want to leave. Through years of personal reflection, journaling, spiritual grounding, and creative expression, I began my own healing journey. I also realized that healing is not linear, and that many of us are walking around carrying weight that isn’t even ours to begin with. It pushed me to become more intentional with my boundaries, with my relationships, and with my voice. I no longer wanted to fix people; I wanted to help them feel safe enough to heal themselves. As someone who works with youth in underserved areas, I’ve seen the power of safe spaces firsthand. I’ve incorporated emotional check-ins into sewing workshops, allowed storytelling to unfold organically in rites-of-passage programs, and watched young people come alive simply because someone listened. These moments have deepened my belief that healing doesn’t always look like a clinical setting. Sometimes it looks like a shared meal, a creative outlet, or a consistent presence that says, “You matter.” My pursuit of a Master’s in Social Work is not about gaining letters behind my name it’s about expanding my toolkit. I want to provide holistic, culturally competent care to those who often fall through the cracks of traditional systems. I want to advocate for policy changes while also remaining grounded in grassroots solutions. And most importantly, I want to bring visibility to the complexities of healing within communities that have historically been overlooked or underserved. Mental health has also reshaped my relationships. I’m more aware of what I need and more capable of showing up for others without losing myself. I’ve learned the value of repair over perfection, of asking rather than assuming, and of honoring people where they are, not where I wish they’d be. I’ve grieved connections, reconciled with parts of my past, and most recently, begun the search for a therapist of my own. While that process hasn’t been easy, it’s reminded me that even helpers need help and that vulnerability is not a weakness but a strength. In terms of my understanding of the world, mental health has revealed the importance of compassion. We live in a world that often demands productivity over presence and perfection over progress. But through the lens of mental health, I see the necessity of slowness, community, and grace. I see how systems need to be reimagined, not just reformed. I see how emotional intelligence and cultural humility are just as important as clinical knowledge. Ultimately, my relationship with mental health has helped me find purpose in pain and direction in what once felt like chaos. It has affirmed my calling to serve, to create, to advocate, and to heal starting with myself, and extending out into every life I touch. This degree will not just elevate my work; it will be a continuation of the healing legacy I’ve committed to building, for my family, my community, and the generations to come.

One of the most defining moments in my journey toward prioritizing my mental and emotional health came during a particularly challenging season in my life. As a solo mother, full-time student, and founder of a nonprofit serving underserved youth, I was juggling many roles without truly tending to my own wellbeing. The loss of my father, the strain of parenting alone, and the cumulative weight of generational trauma left me exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. For years, I had worn resilience as a badge of honor, pushing through fatigue and stress, believing that rest was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Yet, I found myself growing more disconnected from my purpose and those I cared for. I was showing up tired and overwhelmed, and I knew deep down that I was not sustainable in this mode. It became clear that if I didn’t make my health a priority, I wouldn’t be able to continue serving others effectively. I began to intentionally carve out space for myself. I committed to daily journaling to process emotions, practiced solitude, and learned to set healthy boundaries in my relationships and commitments. I sought therapy and leaned into my faith for strength and guidance, embracing healing as a non-negotiable part of my life rather than an afterthought. Rest was no longer something to “earn” but a vital necessity for renewal. Through this experience, I learned that prioritizing mental and emotional health is an act of strength, not weakness. It taught me the importance of self-awareness, balance, and authenticity in all areas of life. Most importantly, it reshaped my understanding of leadership and service; I realized that I can only pour into others when my own cup is full. This shift has profoundly influenced how I prepare for my future in school, work, and life. As I pursue my Master’s in Social Work, I have integrated routines that honor wellness structuring my days to include rest, creative expression like sewing and content creation, and regular emotional check-ins. I have learned to say no without guilt and to lead by example, modeling the importance of self-care for those I serve. By prioritizing my health, I have cultivated resilience that fuels not just survival but thriving. This commitment empowers me to show up fully, creatively, and compassionately for my son, my community, and myself. It has given me the clarity and energy to expand my impact, blending my lived experience with professional expertise to create healing spaces that truly nurture and transform. Ultimately, making my mental and emotional health a priority was the turning point that allowed me to reimagine what’s possiblen not only for myself but for everyone whose lives I touch through my work and advocacy.

I deserve this scholarship because I don’t just have potential I’ve been doing the work, often without the resources or recognition. What gives me an advantage is that I bring both lived experience and a proven track record of impact. I’m not pursuing a Master’s in Social Work to find purpose I’m pursuing it to expand what I’ve already built. I’ve raised a child as a solo mother while putting myself through school, running a nonprofit, serving my community, and launching creative platforms that empower others. I know what it means to lead with limited support, to advocate when no one else will, and to transform pain into purpose. This isn’t theoretical for me it’s personal. I’ve had to navigate complex systems without a guide, and now I want to become that guide for others. What sets me apart is my ability to bridge worlds: academic and grassroots, professional and personal, creative and clinical. I can facilitate a workshop, sew a garment from scratch, lead a healing circle, and sit at a policy table all with the same heart. I understand what underserved communities need because I’ve lived it, served in it, and dreamed beyond it. This scholarship would not be a handout it would be an investment into someone who is already making change and simply needs support to go further. My story, resilience, and purpose-driven work give me an edge but more than that, they give me a responsibility I’m ready to carry.

The life of my dreams is deeply rooted in faith, freedom, and fulfillment not just for myself, but for my family, my community, and the generations that come after me. In this vision, I’m no longer in survival mode. I’m walking in peace, purpose, and provision. I wake up in a home filled with light and warmth a space that reflects my creativity, my heritage, and my healing. My son is happy and emotionally whole. He’s thriving, confident, and expressive, surrounded by mentors, opportunities, and experiences I once only dreamed of as a young mother. He knows who he is and where he comes from, and he is unafraid to take up space in this world. I’ve turned my passions into platforms. My fashion line and sewing curriculum are flourishing empowering young people to not only learn a skill but also discover identity, discipline, and artistry through their hands. I teach others how to build something from scratch, just as I did. My website, maryumkshadeed.com, is a hub for everything I offer sewing programs, coaching, workshops, healing-centered resources, and digital products like eBooks, guides, and video content. I’ve published tools for solo mothers, aspiring entrepreneurs, and young creatives who want to build something realju st like I did. I hold my Master’s in Social Work not as a finish line, but a launchpad. My MSW gives me access to tables where real change happens policy, education, mental health care and I bring my full self there: the entrepreneur, the healer, the mother, the Baltimore girl, the daughter of Yahya Shadeed. His legacy lives through me. He taught me strength, and now I pass that strength on to others through my work, my words, and the way I live. My podcast, Maryum K. Shadeed, is bold, healing, and honest touching on parenting, identity, mental health, womanhood, and faith, with guests from all walks of life. I’ve created a platform where truth lives without shame. I speak on stages, lead panels, and facilitate healing spaces. My voice reaches people who once thought they were alone, and through every story shared, I remind them that they’re not. I also travel often. I’ve finally made it to Africa, and it’s everything I imagined. I spend time there reconnecting, contributing, learning. My son travels with me often, experiencing the world through a lens of curiosity and legacy. My passport is full, not for show, but because I believe in living fully, freely, and without regret. In my dream life, my family is whole. My mother is cared for. My goddaughter Dakota, my daughters, my son we’re all connected through traditions, intentional moments, and joy. Our gatherings are full of food, laughter, prayer, and love. I’ve created a holiday experience that brings my people together every year, giving us new memories while honoring our roots. Financially, I’m abundant and wise. I have multiple streams of income, investments that build generational wealth, and freedom in how I spend my time. I give without hesitation, knowing that my blessings are meant to be shared. I pour back into the youth, into mothers like me, and into communities that simply needed someone to believe in them. The life of my dreams feels grounded and joyful. I have space to rest, room to create, and energy to love. I’m not rushing, proving, or performing. I’m being fully and freely. And through it all, I remain connected to God, guided by purpose, and humbled by the impact of a life I once only imagined.

Receiving this scholarship would be deeply impactful in helping me reach both my educational and long-term career goals as a social worker dedicated to serving marginalized communities. I am currently pursuing my Master of Social Work with the goal of becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW) who specializes in trauma-informed, culturally responsive, and disability-affirming mental health care. My vision is to provide healing-centered therapy to Black and Brown communities, survivors of gender-based violence, and individuals living with chronic illness, disability, or neurodivergence communities I belong to and care deeply about. Throughout my journey, I have experienced firsthand the gaps in our mental health systems, particularly for people at the intersections of race, trauma, and disability. My lived experience has become my motivation. I know what it’s like to feel unheard, misdiagnosed, or forced to navigate care systems that are not built with inclusivity in mind. These challenges have not discouraged me instead, they have deepened my resolve to become a practitioner who offers the kind of affirming, culturally humble care I once needed but couldn’t find. In addition to my graduate studies, I also co-lead a nonprofit that supports survivors of trauma through peer-led healing spaces, art-based wellness events, and educational outreach. This work is an extension of my purpose to make healing accessible, joyful, and collective. However, balancing graduate school, fieldwork, caregiving responsibilities, and chronic illness management while contributing to community advocacy has placed significant financial and emotional strain on me. Despite these challenges, I remain committed to showing up for my education, my community, and my purpose. Receiving this scholarship would ease a substantial financial burden, allowing me to devote more time and energy to my clinical training, academic success, and community engagement without the constant stress of how to make ends meet. The financial support would also help me cover essential costs such as transportation to my internship site, therapeutic supervision, adaptive tools for learning, and continuing education opportunities that are often not covered by traditional student aid but are essential for someone working to serve underrepresented communities. Beyond finances, this scholarship represents something much greater: affirmation. It would signal that my story, my goals, and my efforts matter. For people like me people living at the intersection of trauma, disability, and systemic marginalization this kind of support isn’t just practical; it’s personal. It’s a reminder that we deserve to be seen, supported, and celebrated as we work to create a more just and compassionate world. My ultimate career goal is not only to provide therapy but also to be part of transforming the mental health field itself. I hope to open a community wellness center that integrates traditional therapy with peer support, culturally rooted healing practices, and holistic care models. I also aim to train other clinicians in trauma-informed, anti-oppressive frameworks so that future generations of social workers are better equipped to serve diverse communities. In short, this scholarship would help lift the load both literally and symbolically as I continue walking this path. It would help me show up more fully as a student, a future therapist, a community leader, and a disabled Black woman committed to building bridges where systems have built walls. Thank you for considering my application and for investing in the next generation of healers and change makers.

Some people enter social work by choice. I entered by survival. For most of my life, I’ve navigated the world with both visible and invisible challenges including chronic health conditions and neurodivergence that shaped how I saw myself, how others treated me, and how I moved through systems never designed with me in mind. I was often labeled as “too sensitive,” “too complicated,” or “too much.” But over time, I learned that my sensitivity is actually my strength and that being “too much” in a world that asks us to shrink is often the first step toward advocacy. Today, I am pursuing my Master of Social Work with the intention of becoming a trauma-informed, disability-affirming therapist and community advocate. My career focus centers around working with individuals who, like me, have lived experience with chronic illness, disability, or neurodivergence especially those who exist at the intersections of race, gender, and economic injustice. I believe that healing is not one-size-fits-all. It’s deeply personal, cultural, and often political. As a future Licensed Clinical Social Worker, I want to co-create healing spaces that recognize the full complexity of our identities not in spite of our differences, but because of them. Living with chronic illness and neurodivergence has made me acutely aware of the gaps and harms within our health and mental health systems. I’ve experienced what it’s like to be dismissed, misdiagnosed, or forced to advocate for myself when I barely had the energy to speak. These moments, though painful, ignited my commitment to becoming the kind of practitioner I wish I’d had someone who listens, validates, and meets people where they are, not where they’re expected to be. My journey has also taught me about the power of access and adaptation. Whether it’s needing to cancel a session due to a flare-up or struggling with executive functioning in high-pressure environments, I’ve come to understand that true support isn’t about forcing someone to fit into a rigid system it’s about reshaping systems to honor human variation. This philosophy will guide the way I approach clinical work, policy advocacy, and community organizing. I want to help design programs and services that prioritize flexibility, accessibility, and trust especially for people who have historically been excluded or pathologized. Outside the classroom, I am actively involved in grassroots mental health advocacy. I help lead a nonprofit that offers healing spaces, peer support, and education for trauma survivors, many of whom are also disabled or neurodivergent. Our work is rooted in joy, cultural humility, and the understanding that lived experience is expertise. We challenge stigma not just through awareness, but through action offering tools, resources, and connection in a world that can feel deeply isolating. I don’t see my chronic illness or neurodivergence as limitations. I see them as guides constantly teaching me to slow down, to listen more deeply, and to show up for others with compassion and courage. They’ve given me insight that textbooks can’t teach, and empathy that systems often lack. In my social work career, I plan to be a mirror for those who feel unseen. A voice for those still finding theirs. And a bridge between individuals and the care they not only need, but deserve. I carry the wisdom of my lived experience with me into every space and I hope to use it to transform the very systems that once tried to silence me.

I was five years old when I first realized what silence could do. Growing up in a home marked by abuse and trauma, I learned early to suppress my voice and numb my pain. But silence didn’t protect me it isolated me. Years later, breaking that silence became the most powerful act of healing I ever undertook. That experience shaped not only who I am but also why I’ve dedicated my life to mental health advocacy within marginalized communities. I’m currently pursuing my Master of Social Work with a focus on trauma-informed therapy and culturally competent care. My ultimate goal is to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW), providing affordable, accessible, and affirming mental health services to Black and Brown communities particularly survivors of sexual abuse, domestic violence, and intergenerational trauma. These are communities that are often underserved, misdiagnosed, or dismissed by the traditional mental health system. I want to change that by building a practice rooted in empathy, education, and empowerment. My lived experience with mental health has deeply influenced my beliefs and activism. Navigating complex PTSD and depression as a Black woman, I encountered therapists who didn’t understand my cultural background, or worse, dismissed my pain altogether. That disconnection made me feel invisible and further delayed my healing. It wasn’t until I found a therapist who looked like me and honored my experience that I began to truly heal. From that moment, I knew I wanted to be that mirror for someone else to be the therapist who doesn’t just listen, but truly sees. As part of this mission, I co-lead a nonprofit focused on trauma recovery, survivor advocacy, and education. We facilitate healing circles, host community art events, and provide peer-led support rooted in joy, justice, and collective care. Our work challenges stigma while offering practical resources for navigating trauma in ways that feel safe and empowering. I’ve spoken on panels, led workshops, and collaborated with local organizations to ensure that mental health education is both inclusive and action-oriented. Through both my academic work and community organizing, I’ve come to understand healing not just as a personal journey, but as a form of resistance. In communities where survival has been the only priority, healing becomes a revolutionary act. It says: we deserve to thrive, not just exist. Receiving this scholarship would not only help relieve the financial burden of graduate school it would also be an investment in a future therapist who is committed to systemic change. I don’t just want to provide therapy sessions. I want to rewrite the narrative around mental health for marginalized people. I want to train future clinicians, influence policy, and expand traumainformed care practices into schools, prisons, and social service systems. Mental health saved my life. Now, I want to help others reclaim theirs. That’s the impact I hope to make: one voice at a time, one story at a time, one healing journey at a time.