Mental health became deeply personal to me after experiencing the loss of a loved one to suicide. Before that moment, I understood mental health in abstract terms; something important but distant, often spoken about quietly and without full understanding. Losing someone in this way changed that perspective entirely. It revealed the complexity of emotional pain, the invisibility of internal struggles, and the lasting impact that suicide leaves not only on individuals but on the people who love them. Grief following suicide carries a unique emotional weight. It is layered with sadness, confusion, unanswered questions, and the quiet search for understanding. In the early stages of loss, I struggled with feelings I did not immediately recognize; guilt, helplessness, and the persistent wondering of whether something more could have been done. I also experienced delayed grief, continuing daily responsibilities while emotionally distancing myself from the depth of what had happened. For a time, maintaining composure felt easier than confronting emotions that seemed overwhelming and difficult to process. Eventually, that emotional distance became unsustainable. Grief resurfaced in unexpected moments, reminding me that healing cannot occur through avoidance. Acknowledging my emotions required vulnerability, patience, and the willingness to accept that mental health struggles are rarely simple or visible. This realization shifted my understanding of strength. I began to see that resilience is not about suppressing pain but about allowing space for grief while continuing to move forward with compassion toward oneself. This experience also reshaped how I perceive the mental health of others. I became more attentive to subtle signs of emotional distress, more willing to initiate conversations about mental well-being, and more aware of the importance of listening without judgment. Suicide does not exist in isolation; it reflects struggles that are often hidden behind outward appearances of stability. Recognizing this has encouraged me to approach others with greater empathy, understanding that people may carry burdens that are not immediately visible. Personal healing involved developing coping strategies that supported emotional balance and self-awareness. Reflection, mindfulness, and open conversations with trusted individuals helped me navigate grief in healthier ways. Over time, I learned that healing is not about eliminating sadness but about integrating loss into a broader understanding of love, memory, and personal growth. This process strengthened my emotional resilience and reinforced the importance of prioritizing mental health alongside academic and personal responsibilities. The impact of this experience extends beyond my personal healing. It has influenced my commitment to creating environments where individuals feel safe discussing mental health without stigma or fear. I believe that compassion, presence, and small acts of understanding can have meaningful effects on someone navigating internal struggles. While I cannot change what happened, I can choose how I respond to it; by fostering empathy, supporting open dialogue, and encouraging others to seek help when they need it. Mental health, suicide, and grief have shaped my perspective in ways that are both painful and transformative. Through this experience, I have learned the importance of emotional honesty, patience, and extending kindness not only to others but to myself. The loss I experienced will always be part of my story, but it has also strengthened my resilience, deepened my empathy, and clarified my commitment to supporting others facing similar challenges. In moving forward, I carry the belief that even in the presence of loss, compassion and understanding can create pathways toward healing and connection.

Pursuing higher education as a BIPOC student while managing financial responsibility, work commitments, and disability-related challenges has made me deeply aware of the long-term impact of student loan debt. Education represents opportunity, stability, and personal growth, yet the financial burden attached to it can create anxiety about the future even while working toward meaningful goals. Rather than ignoring this reality, I have chosen to approach student debt with intentional planning, financial discipline, and a commitment to minimizing long-term financial strain. As someone balancing academic demands with work and managing chronic health conditions, financial stability requires careful prioritization. I actively seek scholarships, grants, and financial aid opportunities as a primary strategy to reduce reliance on loans. Applying for scholarships is not only a financial necessity but an investment in long-term independence. Each award represents a reduction in future stress and an increased ability to focus on professional development rather than repayment pressure. In addition to scholarship applications, maintaining part-time employment has been an important step in addressing educational expenses. Working while studying has taught me budgeting, time management, and financial accountability. Although balancing employment with academics and health management can be challenging, it allows me to contribute to living expenses, reduce borrowing, and develop financial habits that will benefit me beyond graduation. Budgeting has become another essential component of my approach. I actively monitor expenses, prioritize necessities, and make intentional decisions regarding spending to avoid unnecessary debt accumulation. Living with financial awareness has strengthened my understanding of delayed gratification and reinforced the importance of distinguishing between immediate wants and long-term financial security. These habits not only support my current education but also prepare me for responsible loan repayment after graduation. Looking toward the future, my strategy includes pursuing loan repayment programs, income-driven repayment options, and potential loan forgiveness opportunities associated with service-oriented careers. Researching these programs early has allowed me to approach borrowing with greater clarity rather than uncertainty. I also plan to build an emergency fund, maintain consistent savings habits, and seek financial literacy resources that support sustainable debt management and wealth-building over time. Receiving this scholarship would significantly contribute to my ability to reduce educational debt and maintain financial stability while continuing my studies. Financial assistance would allow me to dedicate more time to academic growth, community involvement, and professional preparation without increasing loan dependency. More importantly, it would reinforce the possibility of achieving educational goals without sacrificing long-term financial well-being. As a BIPOC student navigating higher education with both work and disability-related responsibilities, I view financial planning not as a temporary necessity but as a lifelong skill. My experiences have taught me resilience, adaptability, and the importance of proactive decision-making in the face of systemic and personal challenges. I am committed to continuing my education in a way that prioritizes both professional purpose and financial sustainability. Addressing student loan debt is not simply about repayment; it is about creating a future where educational opportunity does not translate into prolonged financial hardship. Through scholarship pursuit, employment, budgeting, and long-term financial planning, I am actively working toward a future defined by stability, independence, and the ability to give back to my community without the weight of overwhelming debt. This scholarship would represent not only financial relief but a meaningful step toward that goal.

Being part of the disabled community has reshaped the way I understand strength, independence, and success. Living with rheumatoid arthritis means navigating a world that often assumes consistency in physical ability, energy, and health. While my disabilities are not always visible, their impact is present in daily decisions, long-term planning, and the quiet adaptations required to keep moving forward. This experience has changed not only how I view myself but also how I understand others and the systems we all move through. One of the most profound shifts has been recognizing the gap between capability and perception. Because my condition is largely invisible, I often appear fully able while managing pain, fatigue, and constant health monitoring behind the scenes. This invisibility can create a sense of isolation; the feeling of working harder simply to maintain what others experience without additional effort. Missed opportunities, the need for flexibility, and the unpredictability of symptoms can make academic and professional environments feel unintentionally exclusionary, even when support exists. At first, I interpreted these challenges as personal limitations. Over time, I began to understand that disability is not solely about the body but about the interaction between individuals and environments that are not always designed with variability in mind. This realization transformed my worldview. Rather than internalizing frustration, I developed a deeper awareness of accessibility, inclusion, and the importance of creating spaces where diverse needs are acknowledged rather than overlooked. I became more patient with myself and more compassionate toward others navigating invisible struggles. Being part of the disabled community has also taught me resilience in a form that is quiet but powerful. Strength, I learned, is not measured by the absence of difficulty but by the ability to adapt with persistence and self-compassion. Managing chronic illness while pursuing higher education requires organization, self-advocacy, and the willingness to redefine productivity on difficult days. These lessons have strengthened my emotional endurance and reinforced the idea that progress does not need to be linear to be meaningful. Perhaps the most meaningful impact has been the empathy this experience has cultivated. Living with physical limitations has heightened my sensitivity to the struggles others may carry unseen. I understand the emotional weight of feeling misunderstood, the hesitation to ask for accommodations, and the courage it takes to continue pursuing goals while managing health challenges. This perspective has shaped my interactions with others, encouraging me to approach people with curiosity and compassion rather than assumption. In my future endeavors, I hope to use this lived experience to promote understanding, accessibility, and inclusion. My experiences have shown me that small acts of empathy (listening without judgment, offering flexibility, and validating someone’s challenges) can have profound effects. I want to contribute to environments where individuals feel supported in acknowledging their needs without fear of stigma or diminished expectations. Education represents more than academic achievement; it is a pathway to advocacy and impact. By continuing to pursue my goals while living with disability, I hope to demonstrate that physical limitations do not diminish ambition or capability. Instead, they can deepen perspective, strengthen resilience, and inspire efforts to create more inclusive communities. Being part of the disabled community has changed how I see the world; not as a place defined by barriers, but as one with opportunities to foster greater understanding and compassion. Through my experiences, I have learned that inclusion begins with awareness, and I am committed to carrying that awareness forward in ways that positively impact both my personal journey and the communities I serve.

Loss has a way of reshaping not only our emotional world but also the way we understand ourselves. When I lost my father, I experienced grief that was layered with confusion, sadness, and a quiet sense of disorientation. Trauma does not always arrive loudly; sometimes it settles into everyday life, influencing thoughts, motivation, and the way you move through the world without immediately recognizing its presence. Navigating this loss forced me to confront emotions I had never fully understood before; helplessness, unresolved questions, and the challenge of continuing forward while carrying an absence that felt permanent. In the beginning, my response to grief was avoidance. I stayed busy, focused on responsibilities, and tried to convince myself that composure meant healing. However, emotions that are suppressed rarely disappear; they wait patiently until you are ready to acknowledge them. Over time, I realized that true healing required intentional self-reflection and the willingness to sit with discomfort rather than outrun it. This realization marked the beginning of a deeper journey inward. Meditation, journaling, yoga, and pilates became essential tools in that journey. Meditation allowed me to observe my thoughts without becoming overwhelmed by them, creating moments of stillness where grief felt less consuming. Journaling gave me a private space to express emotions that were difficult to articulate aloud; fears, memories, and reflections that needed acknowledgment rather than resolution. Writing helped transform chaotic thoughts into understanding, allowing me to see patterns in my healing rather than feeling lost within it. Movement-based practices such as yoga and pilates also played a significant role. Grief often manifests physically as tension, fatigue, or restlessness, and these practices provided a way to reconnect with my body in a gentle, compassionate manner. Through mindful movement and breath, I learned to release emotional weight that I had unknowingly been carrying. These practices did not eliminate grief, but they created space where healing felt possible and where moments of peace could exist alongside sadness. Through this process, I discovered resilience that felt quieter but more meaningful than I had previously understood. I learned strength is not the absence of vulnerability but the willingness to remain open despite it. I became more patient with myself, more aware of my emotional needs, and more compassionate toward others navigating invisible struggles. Grief deepened my empathy and reminded me that healing is not a destination but an ongoing relationship with oneself. Continuing my education represents both personal growth and a commitment to honoring the people who shaped me. Loss clarified the importance of pursuing meaningful goals and using my experiences to support others with compassion and understanding. Education provides not only knowledge but also the opportunity to create impact, to contribute to communities, and to transform personal hardship into empathy-driven purpose. The biggest influences in my life are those who have demonstrated resilience through adversity; those who showed quiet strength, mentors who encouraged reflection, and individuals whose work emphasizes emotional awareness and healing. Even people I have not met have influenced me through their advocacy for mental health, mindfulness, and compassionate living. This reinforced my belief that healing is both deeply personal and profoundly shared. My journey through grief has taught me that healing does not mean forgetting or eliminating pain; it means learning to live alongside it with understanding and compassion. Meditation, journaling, and mindful movement have given me tools to navigate emotional complexity while continuing to grow. Through loss, I have developed resilience, empathy, and clarity about the kind of person I hope to become; someone who carries pain with grace, supports others with authenticity, and continues pursuing purpose with strength and softness.

One of the most meaningful relationships in my life was also one of the most complicated; my relationship with my father. For a long time, I believed meaningful relationships were defined by closeness, ease, and constant understanding. Losing my father forced me to confront a different truth: sometimes the relationships that shape us the most are the ones that are imperfect, unfinished, and deeply human. My father and I were not always as close as I wished we had. When I was younger, he felt like a source of stability and reassurance, someone whose presence made the world feel manageable. As I grew older, distance slowly formed; not out of a lack of love, but through misunderstandings, unspoken expectations, and the quiet complexity that can exist between parents and children. I carried the fear that I disappointed him more often than I made him proud, and that belief created emotional space where connection once felt effortless. Despite that distance, our relationship was filled with small moments that now carry immense meaning. One of those moments was something that used to irritate me endlessly: the way he would whistle to call my attention instead of saying my name. At the time, it felt trivial and frustrating. I remember telling him, half joking and half serious, that I was not a dog and that he needed to stop whistling for me. It was one of those ordinary interactions you never imagine will become significant. After he passed away, I did not immediately break down or openly mourn. Instead, I continued moving forward, holding emotions in place as if acknowledging them would make the loss more real. Then one morning, the realization arrived quietly but completely: no one else in my life can reproduce that whistle. I will never hear it again. The sound I once dismissed became the memory I longed for most, a small but irreplaceable reminder of his presence. That moment reshaped my understanding of connection. I realized that meaningful relationships are not defined by perfection but by the ordinary expressions of love that make someone uniquely themselves. The habits we overlook, the small annoyances, the imperfect conversations; these are often the threads that form the strongest emotional ties. Losing my father taught me that connection is rarely about grand gestures; it lives in the subtle, everyday ways people show up in our lives. This realization profoundly influenced how I build relationships with others. I have become more intentional about presence, more patient with imperfection, and more willing to express appreciation in the moment rather than assuming there will always be time later. I listen more carefully, forgive more easily, and value authenticity over flawless communication. I have learned that connection does not require complete understanding; it requires willingness, compassion, and the courage to remain emotionally open even when relationships are complex. My relationship with my father also shaped my professional perspective. In veterinary medicine, connection extends beyond the patient to the people who love them. I often meet individuals navigating fear, grief, hope, and uncertainty simultaneously, and my personal experiences allow me to approach these interactions with deeper empathy. I understand that love can be complicated, that grief can appear delayed or unexpected, and that the smallest details can hold immense emotional significance. This awareness helps me support others not just medically, but emotionally. More broadly, this relationship changed how I view human connection in general. It taught me that vulnerability strengthens relationships rather than weakening them, and that meaningful connection often exists beneath layers of misunderstanding or silence. I carry a greater appreciation for imperfect love; the kind that may not always be expressed perfectly but remains deeply genuine. While my father is no longer physically present, the relationship continues to shape me. It lives in my patience with others, my attentiveness to small details, and my commitment to showing up more fully for the people in my life. The whistle I once resisted has become a symbol of connection; a reminder that love is often expressed in ways we only fully understand once they are gone. Through this relationship, I learned that meaningful connection is not about avoiding complexity but embracing it. It is about recognizing the value in imperfect moments, expressing care even when it feels uncomfortable, and allowing love to exist alongside misunderstanding. Losing my father did not end our connection; it transformed it into perspective, empathy, and a quiet determination to build relationships rooted in presence, compassion, and authenticity.

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to decide whether my illnesses should be considered obstacles, teachers, or simply uninvited companions that followed me into adulthood. The answer, I think, is all three. I live with rheumatoid arthritis, a condition that sounds clinical and manageable when listed on paper, yet feel far more complicated when lived day to day. It doesn't define who I am, but it quietly shapes how I move through the world. Most people don’t see disability when they look at me, which creates its own strange tension. There is an expectation of consistency; the ability to show up energized, focused, and physically capable every day.. that doesn’t always align with reality. Some mornings begin with stiffness that makes even small movements feel deliberate, while other days the pain is so great I can't fully focus on anything else. The hardest part is often not the symptoms themselves but the internal negotiation between pushing forward and knowing when my body requires patience. For a long time, I tried to ignore that negotiation. I believed strength meant pretending nothing was different, minimizing discomfort, and convincing myself that asking for flexibility meant falling behind. It took time to realize that resilience is not about denial but adaptation. Managing medications, appointments, unpredictable fatigue, and academic expectations simultaneously forced me to become organized, self-aware, and far more compassionate toward myself than I had ever been before. There is also a quiet loneliness that accompanies invisible illness. Explaining limitations can feel uncomfortable, especially when you appear capable. I often found myself reassuring others that I was fine, even when “fine” simply meant functioning differently than expected. Over time, however, I began to see that my version of normal did not need to mirror anyone else’s. Learning to advocate for my needs (whether through pacing, accommodations, or simply honesty) became one of the most important forms of growth. Living with a chronic illness has also given me something unexpected: perspective. I notice small victories more clearly. I understand the emotional weight of unpredictability. I recognize the courage it takes for people to navigate challenges that are not immediately visible to others. These experiences have shaped my empathy in ways that textbooks never could. They have taught me that capability is not defined by ease, and that perseverance often happens quietly, without recognition. My education has become an extension of that perseverance. Pursuing demanding academic goals while managing chronic illness is not always graceful, but it is deeply intentional. Each step forward represents more than academic progress; it reflects adaptation, determination, and the refusal to allow physical limitations to dictate my sense of possibility. Rather than diminishing my ambitions, these experiences have strengthened them, motivating me to create environments where individuals navigating similar challenges feel understood rather than isolated. I hope to use my education to support underserved communities by bringing empathy, patience, and awareness into spaces where accessibility and understanding are not always prioritized. Living with a chronic illness has shown me that support is not just about accommodations but about creating environments where people feel safe acknowledging their needs without fear of judgment. I no longer see my illness solely as a barrier. It is a part of my story certainly, but not the ending. Living with RA has taught me resilience, self-advocacy, and the importance of extending compassion to others whose struggles may not be immediately visible. If anything, they have strengthened my belief that success is not measured by the absence of hardship but by the willingness to continue growing alongside it.

A second chance does not always arrive as a single dramatic moment. Sometimes it appears quietly; as the decision to keep going after loss, to redefine yourself after self-doubt, or to pursue purpose despite circumstances that make the path feel uncertain. For me, a second chance has meant choosing growth over limitation and refusing to allow hardship to define the direction of my life. There was a period in my life when grief, health challenges, and the pressure of academic expectations felt overwhelming. Loss reshaped my emotional world, chronic illness tested my physical resilience, and navigating my educational journey as a first-generation immigrant added layers of responsibility and uncertainty. There were moments when it felt easier to retreat, to lower my expectations, or to believe that the obstacles in front of me were signs that I should choose a simpler path. Instead, I began to understand that adversity was not a signal to stop but an invitation to rebuild with greater intention. Wanting to make a change in my life began with shifting my mindset. Rather than viewing hardship as something that limited me, I started to see it as something that strengthened my perspective and clarified my purpose. I made the conscious decision to pursue my goals even when progress felt slow or imperfect. This meant developing healthier coping strategies, asking for support when needed, and learning to be patient with myself during periods of emotional or physical difficulty. Growth did not happen all at once; it occurred through small, consistent choices to keep moving forward. The steps I have taken toward this change include committing fully to my education, prioritizing personal resilience, and allowing my experiences to deepen rather than diminish my compassion for others. I have worked to build discipline in moments of fatigue, confidence in moments of doubt, and hope in moments when the future felt uncertain. Choosing persistence became my way of reclaiming control over my story and transforming challenges into motivation rather than barriers. This scholarship would help me continue building that momentum by reducing financial stress and allowing me to focus more fully on my academic and personal development. Support like this does more than provide financial relief; it reinforces the belief that effort, perseverance, and growth are seen and valued. Having access to educational resources without the constant weight of financial pressure would allow me to invest more energy into learning, community involvement, and the pursuit of long-term goals centered on service and impact. Paying this opportunity forward is deeply important to me. I believe second chances create ripple effects, and I hope to extend the same encouragement and support to others navigating their own challenges. Whether through mentorship, emotional support, or community outreach, I want to create spaces where people feel understood rather than judged and encouraged rather than discouraged. Sharing my experiences openly allows others to see that setbacks do not determine their future and that growth remains possible even after difficult chapters. A second chance, to me, is the opportunity to rewrite the narrative you once believed was fixed. It is the courage to move forward with compassion for yourself and determination for your future. By continuing my education and remaining committed to growth, I hope to honor the idea that second chances are not only gifts we receive but opportunities we can extend to others, creating a cycle of resilience, empathy, and hope.

Last year, I lost my father. I think this is the first time I have written it out. Loss is strange in that way; it exists long before you are ready to acknowledge it, and sometimes putting it into words makes the absence feel heavier. Our relationship was complicated. We were not as close as we should've, and for a long time I carried the quiet belief that I caused him more disappointment than pride. There were conversations left unfinished, misunderstandings that felt easier to ignore, and the subtle distance that can grow between people who love each other but struggle to express it. When he passed away, my grief did not look the way I expected. I did not immediately cry. I held everything in. I continued functioning, focusing on responsibilities and distractions, convincing myself that strength meant composure. I did not mourn openly, and I did not allow myself to fully feel the weight of what had happened. But grief does not disappear simply because it is postponed. It waits quietly until something small.. almost insignificant, breaks the barrier you have built. For me, that moment was a whistle, or rather the memory of it. My father had a habit that used to irritate me endlessly. Instead of calling my name, he would whistle to get my attention. I remember feeling frustrated and telling him, half joking and half serious, that I was not a dog and that he needed to stop whistling for me. At the time, it felt like an annoyance; a small, ordinary habit I never imagined would hold meaning. Then one morning, long after he was gone, the realization arrived without warning: no one else in my life can reproduce that whistle. I will never hear it again. The whistle I spent most of my life finding irritating is now the sound I miss most about my father, and as I write this I am crying, because I am once again confronted with the realization that I will never hear it again, and that hurts more than I can fully put into words. I am not just mourning the whistle; I am mourning the presence, familiarity, and connection that can never be recreated. That realization reshaped my understanding of grief and love. I began to see that relationships do not need to be perfect to be meaningful, and that love often exists in the ordinary, imperfect moments we overlook. The things we once found irritating can later become the memories we hold most tightly because they were expressions of someone’s individuality, their presence, their way of existing in our lives. Losing my father taught me that unresolved emotions do not diminish love, and grief is not measured by how quickly it appears but by the depth of what was shared. Pursuing my goals became an act of honoring both his presence in my life and the growth that followed his absence. I carry a deeper empathy for others navigating complicated grief, understanding that loss is rarely simple and that healing often arrives in unexpected ways. While I cannot hear that whistle again, I carry the memory of it, and of him, with me. The sound I once dismissed has become a symbol of connection, reminding me to appreciate the small, imperfect expressions of love that make people unforgettable. My father’s absence will always exist, but so will the lessons his life and our relationship gave me: patience, reflection, and the understanding that love does not disappear with loss; it transforms into memory, perspective, and the quiet strength that allows us to keep moving forward.

One of the most meaningful challenges I have overcome in my life has been learning to navigate personal loss while continuing to pursue my education and personal growth. Loss has a way of reshaping perspective, forcing you to confront both vulnerability and resilience at the same time. When my grandfather passed away, I not only lost a deeply loved family member but also someone who inspired my curiosity, patience, and appreciation for history. Carrying forward the passions he shared with me became both a source of comfort and a quiet responsibility. My grandfather was an avid stamp collector, particularly fascinated by older Spanish stamps that reflected culture, history, and identity. He left behind his carefully preserved stamp album, a collection that represented years of dedication and curiosity. At first, inheriting it felt overwhelming; not because of the collection itself, but because of the emotional significance it carried. Over time, however, continuing his collection became a way of maintaining connection rather than focusing solely on loss. Each time I open the album, I feel as though I am revisiting moments of shared curiosity and conversation. Stamp collecting has profoundly influenced my life by teaching me patience, attention to detail, and an appreciation for storytelling through small artifacts. Every stamp carries a fragment of history (a political moment, a cultural symbol, or a celebration of achievement), and exploring these details sparked a fascination with historical context and global connection. There is something deeply grounding about holding a piece of history small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. If I had not chosen veterinary medicine, I often believe I would have pursued history, as philately nurtured a deep respect for the stories that shape people and places. Beyond intellectual curiosity, stamp collecting has also provided emotional comfort during stressful periods of my life. The process of searching for new stamps, organizing the album, and discovering older pieces with unique designs offers a quiet sense of joy and reflection. Finding an unfamiliar or antique stamp brings excitement not only for its rarity but for the unknown journey it has taken before reaching my collection. This hobby has become both a creative outlet and a reminder that meaningful experiences often exist within small, overlooked details. This scholarship would provide crucial support in allowing me to continue my education while honoring the values my grandfather instilled in me; curiosity, dedication, and perseverance. Financial assistance would reduce the burden of educational expenses and enable me to focus more fully on academic growth, community involvement, and volunteer work. My goal is to give back by using my education to support and uplift others, particularly through compassionate service and outreach within diverse communities. Giving back also means preserving connection, much like stamp collecting preserves history. I hope to mentor others, participate in community initiatives, and create spaces where individuals feel encouraged to pursue both their academic ambitions and personal passions. Just as my grandfather shared his love of philately with me, I hope to share knowledge, encouragement, and compassion with others in meaningful ways. Stamp collecting has influenced my life by connecting me to history, culture, and family legacy. More importantly, it has taught me that even the smallest objects can carry profound meaning and connection across time and distance. Continuing my grandfather’s collection is more than a hobby; it is a tribute, a source of joy, and a reminder that curiosity and passion can transcend generations. With the support of this scholarship, I will continue pursuing my dreams while carrying forward both his legacy and the lessons embedded within every page of that album.

My name is Maya, and I am a multilingual veterinary student whose journey has been shaped by language, culture, and perseverance. I was raised speaking Spanish as my first language and Gallego as a remnant of my mother's parents and grandparent's, growing up within a family and community where communication, emotion, and identity were deeply tied to language. When I began navigating education and professional life in English, I quickly realized that learning a new language involves far more than vocabulary and grammar; it requires rebuilding confidence, adapting one’s identity, and learning to express complex thoughts in unfamiliar ways. Transitioning academically into English presented challenges that were both visible and subtle. Early on, I often needed extra time to process lectures, medical terminology, and academic writing, particularly in demanding scientific environments. Veterinary medicine introduced an additional layer of complexity, as mastering medical terminology in a second language required not only memorization but true conceptual understanding. There were moments of self-doubt when I worried that my language barrier might be perceived as a lack of knowledge rather than a difference in linguistic processing. Balancing rigorous coursework while mentally translating concepts demanded resilience, patience, and confidence in my ability to adapt. Beyond academics, multilingualism also meant taking on responsibilities outside of school. Like many multilingual students, I frequently acted as a translator for family members in medical, legal, and everyday situations. While this responsibility sometimes felt overwhelming at a young age, it ultimately strengthened my independence, communication skills, and emotional awareness. Translating is not simply converting words; it involves conveying tone, context, and cultural nuance. These experiences helped me develop empathy and adaptability; skills that now play a crucial role in my interactions with both clients and colleagues. Despite the challenges, multilingualism has become one of my greatest strengths. Speaking Spanish, Gallego, and English allows me to connect with a broader community and build trust with individuals who may otherwise feel unheard in medical settings. In veterinary medicine, this ability is particularly meaningful. Many pet owners experience anxiety when discussing their animal’s health, and language barriers can intensify that stress. Being able to communicate clearly, offer reassurance, and explain complex medical concepts in a client’s preferred language improves understanding, compliance, and ultimately patient care. Multilingualism has also shaped the way I perceive the world. It has taught me flexibility in thinking, deeper cultural awareness, and the ability to approach problems from multiple perspectives. I have learned that language influences how emotions are expressed, how trust is built, and how care is received. These insights allow me to be more compassionate, patient, and effective in diverse environments. Following graduation, I plan to pursue a career in small animal emergency and neurology, fields that require both technical precision and compassionate communication. I hope to serve diverse communities where language accessibility can directly impact the quality of care animals receive. Additionally, I aspire to mentor other multilingual students navigating demanding academic paths, helping them recognize that language differences are not limitations but powerful assets. Being multilingual has challenged me, strengthened me, and ultimately expanded my capacity to connect with others. It has shaped my resilience, deepened my empathy, and enhanced my professional aspirations. I am proud that Spanish is my first language, and proud to also be able to speak my grandparents and great-grandparents language, and above all, I am grateful for the perspective multilingualism has given me. Rather than viewing language as a barrier, I see it as a bridge; one that allows me to serve, advocate, and communicate with compassion in both my personal and professional life.

Losing my father to suicide reshaped my life in ways I could never have anticipated. His passing followed a long and exhausting battle with cancer, a journey that gradually altered not only his physical health but also his emotional strength. Watching someone you love endure persistent pain, loss of independence, and emotional fatigue creates a quiet heartbreak that begins long before loss itself. When he ultimately chose to end his life, I was left grappling with grief that was intertwined with confusion, compassion, and a profound sense of helplessness. In the immediate aftermath, the weight of unanswered questions felt overwhelming. I struggled with guilt, wondering if there was something more I could have done or a moment I had missed. The grief was not straightforward; it came in waves of sadness, anger, and disbelief. I quickly realized that surviving this loss was not about finding quick closure but about learning how to carry love and grief simultaneously. Accepting that my father’s decision was shaped by suffering beyond my control became one of the most difficult yet necessary steps in my healing process. The challenges extended beyond emotional pain. Grief affected my concentration, motivation, and sense of stability during a critical period of my education. There were moments when continuing forward felt exhausting, and balancing academic responsibilities with emotional healing required intentional effort. However, this experience also revealed a resilience within me that I had never fully recognized. I learned the importance of asking for support, whether through therapy, conversations with loved ones, or simply allowing myself the grace to feel without judgment. Choosing to continue pursuing my goals became an act of honoring both my father’s memory and my own future. Through this journey, I gained a deeper understanding of the invisible struggles many people face. I became more aware of the importance of mental health advocacy, open conversation, and compassionate listening. Loss taught me that strength does not come from suppressing grief but from allowing vulnerability to coexist with determination. I learned to recognize small victories (moments of peace, laughter, or renewed motivation), as meaningful signs of healing rather than indicators that grief had disappeared. Over time, resilience began to take the place of overwhelming despair. I found hope not in forgetting my father but in integrating his memory into the person I am becoming. His love, guidance, and the lessons from his life continue to shape my decisions and my perspective. This loss strengthened my empathy toward others experiencing hardship and motivated me to create space for honest conversations about mental health, particularly in environments where such topics are often avoided. Today, perseverance means continuing to move forward while carrying both love and loss with compassion. It means allowing grief to deepen my understanding of others rather than diminish my ability to hope. My father’s story is not defined solely by tragedy but by the resilience, dedication, and love he demonstrated throughout his life. By pursuing my education and remaining committed to my goals, I honor his memory and transform grief into purpose. Surviving this loss has taught me that resilience is not the absence of pain but the willingness to keep growing despite it. While the loss will always be part of my story, it has also become a source of strength, empathy, and determination. Through perseverance, support, and self-compassion, I have found a path forward; one guided by love, hope, and the belief that healing and purpose can coexist even after profound tragedy.

What I want to build cannot be held in my hands; but it can be felt in the lives it touches. I am building a future rooted in compassion, accessibility, and service through veterinary medicine. My journey began far from stability. As an immigrant navigating financial hardship, language barriers, and uncertainty, I learned what it feels like to exist without access to resources, guidance, or security. Those experiences shaped not only my resilience, but my understanding of how deeply care (both medical and emotional) can change lives. Through my education, I am building a career that bridges science with empathy. As a veterinary student and former emergency veterinary technician, I have witnessed how animals are family, and how the inability to afford care can create immense emotional distress for owners. No one should have to choose between financial survival and the wellbeing of a beloved companion. That belief drives the future I am working toward. I hope to build accessible veterinary services for underserved communities, particularly for low-income families and individuals who often face barriers to care. This includes outreach programs, community education on preventative medicine, and partnerships with organizations that provide affordable treatment options. I want to create environments where people feel supported rather than judged, and where compassion is just as important as clinical skill. But what I am building extends beyond my profession. I am building stability where there was once uncertainty, confidence where there was once self-doubt, and representation for those who may not see themselves reflected in scientific spaces. As a first-generation student, every milestone represents more than personal success; it represents possibility for others walking similar paths. Education is the foundation of everything I am building. It is the tool that allows me to transform hardship into advocacy, knowledge into service, and personal growth into community impact. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden that accompanies higher education, allowing me to focus more fully on developing the skills, experience, and outreach efforts necessary to bring this vision to life. I am building a future where compassion is accessible, where science serves humanity with dignity, and where the obstacles that once limited me become the very reasons I am able to uplift others.

I chose to pursue a career in STEM because curiosity has always felt like survival to me. Growing up, I was fascinated by how living beings functioned; how illness could be understood, treated, and sometimes prevented through knowledge and compassion. That curiosity eventually led me to veterinary medicine, a field where science and empathy intersect in powerful ways. As a woman, an immigrant, and a first-generation student, entering a STEM field felt both exciting and intimidating. There were moments when I questioned whether I belonged in spaces traditionally dominated by authority, confidence, and voices louder than my own. Navigating language barriers, financial hardship, and cultural expectations while pursuing rigorous scientific training required resilience beyond academics. But those experiences didn’t discourage me; they strengthened my determination to remain present, capable, and unapologetically ambitious. Veterinary medicine represents STEM in its most human form. It requires critical thinking, diagnostic reasoning, surgical precision, and a deep understanding of biology, pharmacology, and physiology; but it also demands empathy, communication, and advocacy. Through my work as a veterinary technician in emergency and surgical settings, I witnessed how science can ease suffering, restore hope, and protect the bond between animals and the people who love them. Those experiences confirmed that STEM is not only about innovation; it is about impact. As a woman in this field, I hope to contribute to a culture where competence and compassion coexist, and where representation reassures future generations that they belong in scientific spaces. I want young women (especially those from immigrant or low-income backgrounds) to see that pursuing STEM does not require perfection, privilege, or the absence of fear. It requires curiosity, persistence, and the willingness to keep showing up. My long-term goals include practicing veterinary medicine in underserved communities, advancing education around accessible animal care, and mentoring women entering scientific fields who may doubt their abilities. I am particularly interested in neurology and emergency medicine, areas that challenge both technical skill and emotional resilience. By continuing to grow in these spaces, I hope to contribute not only clinically but also as a source of encouragement and representation. STEM thrives on diversity of thought, experience, and perspective. My journey has taught me that scientific excellence is not defined solely by academic achievement but by the empathy, adaptability, and determination individuals bring into their work. Being a woman in STEM means more than occupying a seat at the table; it means expanding the table so others feel welcome to join. I am pursuing this path not just to succeed individually, but to create impact, foster inclusivity, and demonstrate that women’s contributions to STEM are not exceptional; they are essential.

Growing up in a low-income, single-parent household shaped my resilience long before I understood the weight of that word. My mother carried the responsibility of providing for our family with quiet strength, and watching her sacrifices taught me perseverance, gratitude, and the importance of education as a pathway to stability and opportunity. After emigrating to the United States, those challenges intensified. I faced housing insecurity, language barriers, and the pressure of rebuilding my life from nothing while navigating school and work simultaneously. Despite these obstacles, I remained committed to my education. I worked tirelessly, eventually becoming a Certified Veterinary Technician and now pursuing a Doctorate in Veterinary Medicine as a first-generation student. These experiences did more than build resilience; they gave me purpose. I understand what it feels like to struggle without access to resources, and that perspective drives my passion for service. I aim to expand access to veterinary care for underserved communities, support low-income pet owners, and serve as an example for other immigrant and first-generation students who may doubt their potential. I actively work toward my goals through academic dedication, clinical experience, and community involvement. My journey is proof that adversity can be transformed into compassion and impact. This scholarship would help ease the financial burden of essential educational expenses while allowing me to continue pursuing a career rooted in empathy, advocacy, and meaningful change.

My decision to pursue veterinary medicine has always been rooted in a deep respect for the human–animal bond, but my time in veterinary school has transformed that passion into a profound sense of purpose. Animals offer unconditional companionship, comfort, and trust, yet they rely entirely on us to advocate for their health and well-being. I chose veterinary medicine because I wanted to be the person who stands in that space of trust; translating suffering that cannot be spoken into compassionate, effective care. Growing up surrounded by animals sparked my initial interest, but it was hands-on experience in shelters and clinics that confirmed this path. Witnessing frightened, injured, or neglected animals regain comfort and security through veterinary care was both humbling and motivating. I saw how medicine does more than treat disease; it restores relationships, preserves companionship, and brings hope to families during vulnerable moments. That realization continues to shape my identity as a future veterinarian. Throughout veterinary school, my clinical experiences have deepened my appreciation for the complexity and emotional impact of this profession. I have developed a strong interest in small animal emergency and neurology, fields that demand both technical precision and emotional resilience. Emergency medicine has taught me the importance of rapid decision-making, teamwork, and compassionate communication during moments of crisis. Neurology, in contrast, has revealed the delicate intricacies of the nervous system and the profound difference that thoughtful diagnostics and treatment can make in an animal’s quality of life. Cases involving neurologic disease have been particularly meaningful to me. Watching animals regain mobility, comfort, or awareness after targeted treatment reinforces why this work matters. Even in situations where cure is not possible, the ability to provide comfort, guidance, and dignity to patients and their families is incredibly powerful. These experiences have strengthened my commitment to pursuing advanced training that allows me to advocate for animals facing complex or life-altering conditions. Crosby’s story reflects the very impact I hope to have as a veterinarian. As a therapy dog, athlete, and companion, Crosby exemplified how animals enrich human lives in ways that extend far beyond the home. His legacy is a reminder that veterinary medicine does not only support animal health; it preserves the emotional connections that sustain people. Honoring that legacy motivates me to approach each patient not just as a medical case, but as an individual whose life holds deep meaning to someone. With my education, I hope to build a career that combines advanced medical care with accessibility and compassion. I aspire to work in emergency and neurologic medicine while also supporting underserved communities through outreach and reduced-cost care. Equally important to me is client education; empowering owners with knowledge so they can participate confidently in their animal’s care and advocate for their well-being. Veterinary medicine is more than a profession to me; it is a lifelong commitment to empathy, growth, and service. I hope to honor Crosby’s memory by providing comfort in moments of fear, clarity in moments of uncertainty, and relief in moments of suffering. Through dedication to both medical excellence and compassionate care, I aim to make a meaningful difference in the lives of animals and the people who love them.

Mental health is not separate from academic success; it is the foundation that allows students to learn, grow, and sustain purpose through demanding educational journeys. As a veterinary student, mental health has become profoundly important to me not only because of the intensity of the academic environment but also because of the emotional weight that accompanies caring for vulnerable lives. The combination of rigorous coursework, exposure to illness and loss, financial stress, and the pressure to perform at a high level creates a landscape where mental health cannot be ignored. My own experiences navigating anxiety, emotional fatigue, and moments of self-doubt have shaped my understanding that resilience is not about suppressing struggle but about learning how to move through it with awareness, compassion, and support. Veterinary medicine, in particular, carries unique emotional challenges. Students and professionals are frequently exposed to suffering, difficult medical decisions, and euthanasia, all while striving to maintain clinical competence and composure. Early in my training, I began to feel the emotional accumulation of these experiences. There were days when I left clinical environments feeling mentally drained, questioning whether I was doing enough or whether I was strong enough to continue. Combined with academic pressure and financial concerns, these feelings created periods of anxiety and emotional exhaustion. Recognizing the impact of these experiences was the first step toward understanding that mental health is not a sign of weakness but an essential component of sustainable compassion. My journey has taught me that acknowledging mental health challenges is an act of strength. Rather than ignoring emotional strain, I began intentionally developing coping strategies that allowed me to remain grounded and present. This included prioritizing physical well-being, maintaining supportive relationships, and practicing self-reflection to recognize when I needed rest rather than pushing through burnout. Learning to extend the same compassion toward myself that I offer to patients has been one of the most meaningful lessons of my education. Advocating for mental health within my community begins with openness and empathy. I strive to create spaces where peers feel comfortable discussing stress, uncertainty, and emotional fatigue without fear of judgment. Whether through casual conversations with classmates, offering reassurance during difficult rotations, or simply normalizing the reality that struggling does not equate to failure, I aim to contribute to a culture where students feel less isolated. Small acts of support; checking in on peers after challenging cases, sharing coping strategies, or encouraging breaks during intense study periods, can all have a significant impact in reducing stigma and fostering connection. Additionally, my experiences with adversity have strengthened my ability to recognize when others may be silently struggling. This awareness motivates me to advocate for a more compassionate and understanding learning environment, particularly within healthcare fields where emotional labor is often overlooked. I believe that mental health advocacy is not limited to formal initiatives; it is reflected in everyday actions that prioritize kindness, patience, and understanding. As I continue my education in veterinary medicine, mental health advocacy will remain central to my personal and professional identity. Supporting the well-being of students and colleagues ultimately enhances patient care, strengthens professional longevity, and promotes healthier communities. My goal is to contribute to a profession where seeking help is normalized, emotional resilience is supported, and individuals feel empowered to care for themselves as deeply as they care for others. Mental health matters to me because it has shaped my growth, empathy, and taught me true resilience includes vulnerability. Through openness, compassion, and intentional advocacy, I hope to help create environments where students feel seen, supported, and capable of reaching their full potential despite the challenges they face.

Growing up, I never saw veterinary medicine as simply a career; it felt like a calling. Animals exist at the intersection of vulnerability and trust, relying entirely on humans to advocate for their well-being. From an early age, I felt a deep responsibility to care for them, a responsibility that I have come to understand as an expression of stewardship. My faith has taught me that caring for creation is not optional but a reflection of compassion, humility, and service. This understanding ultimately guided my path toward veterinary medicine. Today, as a veterinary student pursuing a career in emergency and specialty care, I carry with me not only a passion for animals but also a desire to serve others through the gifts and opportunities God has placed in my life. My path to veterinary school was not linear. I first entered the field as a credentialed veterinary technician, working in multiple clinical settings and gaining hands-on experience that exposed me to both the rewards and emotional realities of animal medicine. Those early years were transformative. I witnessed firsthand how financial limitations often determine whether an animal receives care, and I saw the emotional burden carried by owners who desperately want to help their pets but lack the resources to do so. In these moments, I began to see veterinary medicine as more than a medical profession; it was a ministry of compassion. Rather than discouraging me, these experiences strengthened my resolve to pursue veterinary school and expand my ability to advocate for both animals and the people who love them. Transitioning from technician to veterinary student required significant academic preparation, financial sacrifice, and personal discipline. Veterinary school is widely recognized as one of the most demanding professional programs, and balancing academic performance with emotional well-being has been an ongoing challenge. During periods of exhaustion and uncertainty, my faith has been a source of grounding and perseverance. Trusting that difficult seasons often serve a greater purpose has allowed me to remain focused and resilient. The intensity of the curriculum has also been deeply rewarding. Through coursework and clinical rotations, I have developed a strong foundation in diagnostics, critical care, and clinical reasoning. Rotations in radiology, pathology, anesthesiology, and emergency medicine have strengthened my ability to think critically under pressure while reinforcing the importance of compassionate communication with clients facing difficult decisions. Beyond academics, I have actively sought opportunities to contribute to animal welfare through community and shelter medicine initiatives. Community cat programs, in particular, have had a profound impact on my professional identity. These programs serve populations of animals that often exist outside traditional veterinary care systems, requiring creativity, efficiency, and a deep commitment to service. Participating in these efforts has shown me how veterinary medicine can extend beyond individual patients to improve entire communities, reduce suffering, and reflect the principle of stewardship over vulnerable lives. Caring for animals that have no voice and limited protection has strengthened my belief that compassion in action is one of the most meaningful ways to serve both God and community. My experiences in pathology and necropsy work have also shaped my perspective in unexpected ways. While emotionally challenging, these experiences reinforce humility, gratitude, and the importance of lifelong learning. Medicine requires acknowledging uncertainty while continuously striving to improve. Each case provides an opportunity to better understand disease processes, improve diagnostic accuracy, and ultimately prevent future suffering. These moments have deepened my resilience and reminded me that growth often emerges from difficult experiences, a lesson that extends far beyond veterinary medicine. Equally important has been the personal discipline required to maintain balance throughout this demanding journey. Veterinary medicine can be physically and emotionally exhausting, making self-care and mental resilience essential. Maintaining physical health, structure, and intentional reflection has helped me manage stress and remain present for both my patients and my education. My faith reinforces the idea that perseverance is not merely endurance but trust; trust that dedication, patience, and service have lasting meaning even when outcomes are uncertain. Financial need remains a significant reality throughout my veterinary education. The cost of tuition, clinical materials, and daily living expenses presents ongoing challenges that require careful planning and sacrifice. Scholarships such as this one play a vital role in reducing these barriers, allowing students like myself to focus more fully on academic development, clinical competence, and service rather than financial strain. Support from organizations rooted in faith and service carries additional meaning, as it reflects a shared belief that education and compassion can be powerful tools for positive change. Looking toward the future, I aspire to pursue a career in small animal emergency and specialty medicine, with particular interests in neurology and critical care. My long-term goal is to combine advanced clinical skills with mentorship, accessible care, and advocacy for underserved animal populations. Whether through emergency stabilization, specialty diagnostics, or community outreach, I hope to practice veterinary medicine in a way that reflects compassion, humility, and stewardship. I aim not only to treat illness but also to provide comfort, guidance, and reassurance to owners during some of their most vulnerable moments. I believe I should be considered for this scholarship not solely because of academic achievement, but because of the persistence, compassion, and sense of purpose that have guided my journey. My experiences as a technician, student, and advocate for vulnerable animals have shaped a perspective rooted in empathy, resilience, and service. With continued support, I am committed to using my education to care for creation, serve communities, and reflect the values of compassion and stewardship that are central to both veterinary medicine and faith. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to apply and for the donors whose generosity makes scholarships like this possible. Their support extends far beyond financial assistance; it empowers students to pursue demanding careers grounded in service and purpose. As I continue through veterinary school and into my professional life, I hope to honor that investment by practicing compassionate medicine, advocating for vulnerable animals, and serving with humility, gratitude, and faith.

I was born in Pinar del Río, Cuba, and I emigrated to the United States alone as a young adult with a suitcase, a dream, and a deep belief that life could be better. My family stayed behind; not because they didn’t want to come, but because they couldn’t. My parents sacrificed everything to help me leave: they gave me their blessing and their hope, trusting that I could build something more with the opportunities they never had. I’ve carried that responsibility with me every single day since. Coming to the U.S. as a first-generation immigrant wasn’t just about learning a new language or navigating a new culture; it meant survival. I worked multiple jobs, figured out how to enroll in school, and slowly built my life from scratch. I had no financial support, no safety net, and no connections. But I had one thing: an unshakable desire to become a veterinarian. My passion for veterinary medicine comes from growing up in a place where animals suffered in silence, where veterinary care was rare and compassion even rarer. I started caring for stray dogs and cats on the streets of Cuba before I ever had textbooks or scrubs. Those early experiences shaped my belief that all animals, and the people who love them, deserve access to care, regardless of their background or income. My family’s story taught me to value hard work, humility, and perseverance. My mother’s strength and my father’s quiet resilience still echo in everything I do. They didn’t have higher education, but they instilled in me the grit to pursue it. Becoming the first in my family to go to college, and now veterinary school, is not just a personal milestone; it’s a fulfillment of their sacrifices. Today, I’m a second-year veterinary student at the University of Florida. I’ve worked as a certified veterinary technician in emergency and critical care across several states. I’ve volunteered with shelters, wildlife centers, and rescue groups because I believe in serving all animals and communities; especially those that are forgotten or underserved. My goal is to practice mixed animal and shelter medicine, offer mobile care in rural areas, and advocate for immigrant families who often feel unseen in the veterinary world. America became my home because I chose it; and I work every day to be worthy of the opportunities it has given me. But I will never forget where I came from, and I carry my family’s story with pride. Receiving this scholarship would not only help relieve some of the immense financial burden I carry; it would be a recognition that our stories matter. That the child who once rescued animals in a Cuban alley now belongs in the halls of medicine. And that immigrant dreams are not only valid; they are vital.

In 2017, I lost someone who meant the world to me: my uncle, who had been more like a second father. His death by suicide was devastating, sudden, and surreal. No one prepares you for the kind of grief that follows a loss like that. It doesn’t just shatter your heart; it changes your understanding of the world and your place in it. My uncle was a steady presence in my life. He believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself. He was the one who encouraged me to pursue my goals, always reminding me that I was smart, capable, and meant for something more. When he passed, I not only lost a loved one; I lost a piece of my support system and a part of my identity. For a long time, I carried an overwhelming sense of guilt, wondering what I missed, what I could have done, or whether I had let him down somehow. Grief took on many forms: anger, sadness, numbness, and confusion. I struggled to talk about it with others, especially because suicide is still surrounded by stigma. I didn’t want to be seen as fragile or “damaged,” so I kept most of my feelings bottled up. It took time, and a lot of personal work, for me to understand that healing didn’t mean forgetting him or moving on. It meant learning to live in a world where he was no longer physically present, but still an influence in my life. One of the biggest turning points came when I allowed myself to talk about it openly. I connected with others who had lost loved ones to suicide, and I found that shared grief can be unexpectedly healing. I began to educate myself about mental health and suicide prevention, and I realized how many others were suffering in silence. That realization helped me turn my pain into purpose. This experience taught me about resilience in a way that no textbook or lecture ever could. It forced me to examine my beliefs, deepen my empathy, and become a more open and compassionate person. I learned that people can seem fine on the outside and still be struggling. That insight shaped the way I interact with others; I now make a conscious effort to check in, to listen without judgment, and to advocate for mental health awareness wherever I can. Today, I’m pursuing my degree in veterinary medicine, not only as a way to honor the dreams I had before my uncle passed, but also to build a future where I can make a meaningful difference. Whether it’s through community work, peer support, or simply being someone who listens, I want to help prevent other families from going through what mine did. Losing someone to suicide doesn’t define who I am; but it has shaped the way I move through the world. It’s made me more determined to succeed, more grateful for every opportunity, and more committed to creating space for honesty, healing, and hope. This scholarship would not only relieve financial pressure as I continue my education; it would also honor the life of someone I loved dearly, and support the mission of spreading awareness, compassion, and support for others navigating similar grief. I carry my uncle’s memory with me every day, and I hope to continue making him proud in everything I do.

Volunteering with an equine-based nonprofit has taught me more than just how to care for horses; it has taught me how to better understand myself. I began volunteering with Peaceful Ridge Horse Rescue with the initial intention of gaining more hands-on experience around horses. As someone who has always found peace and connection in the presence of animals, especially horses, I was drawn to the opportunity to serve both animals and people. What I didn’t expect was how deeply that work would impact my own growth. Through my volunteer experience, I’ve learned that I thrive in environments that challenge me to be both patient and adaptive. Horses require you to be present; they communicate in quiet, nonverbal ways, and working with them has sharpened my ability to observe, listen, and respond with empathy. That’s a lesson I carry into every aspect of my life now, especially as I pursue a career in veterinary medicine. Being part of an equine nonprofit, I saw firsthand how horses can change lives; not just through riding or rehabilitation, but by helping people build trust, responsibility, and confidence. Whether I was mucking stalls, assisting with grooming, or supporting riders during therapeutic sessions, I realized that every small action contributes to something larger. I wasn’t just doing chores; I was making it possible for others to experience the same joy and connection that horses bring to me. Volunteering also taught me humility. Nonprofit work isn’t always glamorous, and some days are filled with sweat, mud, and sore muscles. But I learned to take pride in showing up, doing the work, and being part of a team that shares a passion for service. I discovered that I’m capable of pushing through discomfort when I believe in the mission; and that I find deep fulfillment in helping others succeed, even when I’m behind the scenes. This experience confirmed that my love for animals goes beyond companionship; it's rooted in a desire to advocate for their welfare and use that connection to make a difference in the world. I now know that my future will always involve service. Whether as a veterinarian, a mentor, or a volunteer, I plan to use my skills and compassion to give back to both animals and the communities that rely on them. Most importantly, volunteering with an equine nonprofit reminded me of the importance of heart. In a world that often values speed, productivity, and perfection, horses taught me the value of slowing down, being intentional, and building trust one small step at a time. I’ve carried those values into my academic journey, personal relationships, and future career path. I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to serve and grow alongside these incredible animals and the dedicated people who care for them. This scholarship would support me as I continue to pursue higher education and a life of service, rooted in the lessons I’ve learned from my time with horses.

Living with a learning disability has often meant navigating a world that wasn’t built with me in mind. From an early age, I noticed that tasks that seemed simple for others; like reading aloud, staying focused, or processing complex instructions, took extra time and effort for me. For a long time, I struggled with the fear that these challenges would define my limits. But with support, self-advocacy, and an unshakable desire to prove to myself that I could succeed, I’ve turned those challenges into fuel for my growth. My learning disability has shaped not only how I learn, but how I view others. It’s given me more empathy, more patience, and more appreciation for perseverance. It’s taught me that intelligence isn’t measured by test scores or reading speed, but by creativity, grit, and the refusal to give up when things get hard. These are the traits that have carried me through school, and that continue to push me toward my goals in higher education. I am currently pursuing a Doctorate in Veterinary Medicine at the University of Florida College of Veterinary Medicine. I’ve often had to find creative ways to learn and retain complex material, and I've developed strategies that work for me; even when the traditional methods didn’t. These experiences have made me not only more resilient, but more empathetic toward others who face similar obstacles. I understand firsthand how easy it is for people with learning differences to be overlooked or underestimated, and that fuels my desire to succeed—not just for myself, but for every student who’s been told they’re not capable. Through my career in veterinary medicine, I hope to advocate for inclusivity and accessibility in academic and professional spaces. My ultimate goal is to lead by example, showing that learning differently is not a barrier to excellence; it's simply a different route to achieving it. What makes me a strong candidate for the Dylan’s Journey Memorial Scholarship is that I understand the weight of this journey; and I carry it with pride. Like Dylan, I believe our stories have power. Sharing them helps others feel less alone. I hope to continue spreading that message, just like Dylan did: that no disability, diagnosis, or label should stand in the way of a student’s dreams. With your support, I’ll continue to push forward; redefining success, embracing my path, and helping others see what’s possible when you refuse to give up.

Growing up in a single-parent household taught me resilience before I even knew what the word meant. My mother worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table, and even in the most stressful times, she emphasized the value of education. Watching her persevere through exhaustion and hardship gave me my first and most powerful lesson: persistence matters, even when the odds aren’t in your favor. Our budget was always tight, and we had to learn how to make the most of what we had. But while our income was low, the values in my home were rich: hard work, empathy, and the belief that adversity could either break you or build you into someone stronger. I chose the latter. These lessons continue to shape the path I’m on, and looking forward to graduate and join the workforce as a veterinarian in underserved communities. My experiences have given me a deep understanding of what it means to struggle, and the compassion to want to help others through their struggles. Outside of class, I volunteer at lower income clinics, and non-profit organizations such as Operation Catnip. I want to show others that their background doesn’t define their future. With the support of scholarships like the Lotus Scholarship, I’ll be able to continue my education while also paying it forward, creating a ripple effect of encouragement and opportunity for others who feel overlooked or underestimated. I am working hard toward my goals every day: through my studies, community involvement, and long-term plan to become a veterinarian and open a nonprofit to help underserved communities. I see my journey not as a burden, but as a blueprint for change. With each step forward, I carry my family’s strength and my community’s hope with me.

Every dog breed tells a story. Their physical forms, temperaments, and even their genetic predispositions are shaped by generations of careful, intentional breeding to serve distinct roles alongside humans. From the steadfast protection of the Anatolian Shepherd to the gentle companionship of the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, purebred dogs reflect our shared history, culture, and the profound bond between people and animals. Preserving these breeds is about more than aesthetics or tradition, it is about safeguarding biological diversity and honoring the unique purposes these animals have fulfilled for centuries. In the age of designer breeds and accidental mixes, the role of the preservation breeder has never been more critical. These dedicated individuals are the stewards of breed standards, health, and behavior. They conduct genetic testing, participate in health registries, and make breeding decisions with the welfare of both individual dogs and entire bloodlines in mind. Without these efforts, we risk losing not only physical traits but also working abilities and temperaments that took generations to cultivate. Preservation breeders are not creating animals for novelty or profit, they are protecting living heritage. As a veterinary student and future veterinarian, I believe our profession plays a crucial role in supporting the preservation and health of purebred dogs. Breed-specific knowledge is essential to providing the highest standard of care. Certain breeds have unique health risks, such as cardiac conditions in Doberman Pinschers or autoimmune diseases in Akitas. Understanding these predispositions allows veterinarians to offer tailored preventive care, early screening, and breed-informed treatment options. Furthermore, by educating pet owners and collaborating with responsible breeders, veterinarians can help reduce the incidence of inherited diseases and improve overall breed vitality. The health of purebred dogs impacts more than the show ring or working field, it shapes the future of pet ownership. Many families seek dogs whose predictable temperaments and care requirements align with their lifestyles. Knowing that a Labrador Retriever is likely to be family-friendly and active, or that a Pekingese may prefer a quieter home, helps owners make informed choices and fosters long-lasting human-animal bonds. If breeds fade away due to poor health or lack of preservation, these choices and bonds become more difficult to achieve. In veterinary medicine, our duty is not only to heal but to preserve. We are advocates for individual animals and guardians of entire species and breeds. Partnering with preservation breeders aligns with this mission, ensuring that future generations of dogs and the people who love them, benefit from healthy, thriving bloodlines. I am committed to being a veterinarian who understands the significance of breed preservation and actively works to protect and promote the health of purebred dogs for generations to come.

I still remember the first time I met Kira. She was a fragile, trembling little rabbit surrendered to the clinic where I worked as a veterinary technician. Her fur was patchy, her appetite poor, and her eyes reflected a mixture of fear and resignation. She had been through more than any small creature should endure. As I carefully cradled her in my arms, she pressed herself tightly against my chest, desperate for warmth and comfort. That day, I promised her she would know only kindness from then on. Kira spent weeks with me while recovering. I tube-fed her when she refused to eat, adjusted her medications daily, and hand-mixed soft greens to encourage her appetite. Slowly, her spirit returned. She began nudging my hand for pets, flopping lazily in her enclosure, and showing signs of the joyful bunny she was meant to be. Ultimately, Kira found her forever home, but she left an indelible mark on my heart. She reminded me that each patient is more than a case; they are individuals with fears, personalities, and needs. In three years, I see myself embracing this philosophy as a small animal emergency and critical care veterinarian. My goal is to complete my DVM and pursue an internship to continue refining my medical and surgical skills, particularly in the fast-paced ER environment. I am deeply passionate about helping families through some of the most difficult moments of pet ownership, when every second counts and compassion matters just as much as clinical precision. By that point, I hope to be working in a progressive emergency hospital where I can provide exceptional, empathetic care to animals in crisis. Whether stabilizing a trauma patient, managing a complex toxicology case, or easing the fears of worried pet parents, I aim to be a clinician who makes both patients and owners feel safe and understood. At the same time, I want to contribute to the profession by mentoring veterinary students and technicians, paying forward the guidance that has shaped my own journey. My commitment to this vision is fueled not only by animals like Kira but by my identity as a BIPOC veterinary professional. I understand firsthand how representation and inclusivity can impact clients and colleagues alike. I hope that, by becoming a visible and active member of the ER and critical care community, I can inspire other underrepresented students to pursue their dreams in veterinary medicine. Kira taught me that healing takes more than medicine, it takes patience, empathy, and presence. In three years, I intend to carry that lesson with me into every emergency room shift and every pet parent conversation. I am eager to build a career that blends technical excellence with heart, just as Betsy V Brown envisioned when championing compassionate veterinary care.

From a young age, I knew I wanted to devote my life to animals and their well-being. Growing up, I was surrounded by various animals—each one unique, with their own quirks and personalities. I was constantly captivated by their resilience and loyalty, and as I grew older, I began to understand the incredible bond between animals and humans. It was this early fascination, coupled with my desire to make a positive impact in the world, that steered me toward a career in veterinary medicine. During high school, I took every opportunity to volunteer at local shelters and veterinary clinics. Observing veterinarians’ skillful care of injured and ailing animals solidified my commitment to this path. I was deeply moved by the care, patience, and empathy they showed to each creature, and I saw firsthand the trust that animals placed in those who understood their silent language. Veterinary medicine, to me, is the perfect blend of scientific knowledge and compassion. It is a way to bring healing and relief to animals who cannot articulate their pain, while also supporting the people who love them. This realization not only confirmed my passion for veterinary medicine but ignited my dedication to studying it thoroughly. In veterinary school, I have found a deep interest in small animal neurology and emergency medicine. I am particularly inspired by animals like Crosby, whose story embodies the profound impact that pets have on human lives. The chance to bring relief to animals suffering from neurological disorders, injuries, or illnesses has motivated me to specialize in neurology, where I hope to make a meaningful difference by helping animals live fuller, pain-free lives. I am fascinated by how veterinary neurology can enhance an animal's quality of life and bring joy to the families who love them. I hope to use my education to serve both animals and communities in the way Crosby did—as a source of joy and healing. After completing my degree, I plan to work as a small animal neurologist and emergency veterinarian. My vision is to open a clinic that not only provides advanced care for animals with neurological issues but also partners with local shelters and rescue organizations to offer discounted care for animals in need. I want to extend the love and compassion that Crosby shared with so many, helping animals receive life-saving treatment regardless of their circumstances. Additionally, I aim to educate pet owners on preventive care, treatment options, and the importance of regular check-ups, fostering a more knowledgeable and compassionate community. I am honored to apply for the Team Crosby Forever Veterinary Medicine Scholarship, which commemorates a dog who embodied resilience, compassion, and service. Crosby’s legacy as a therapy dog and show dog resonates deeply with my own aspirations. Like him, I hope to bring comfort, relief, and companionship to animals and people alike. Veterinary medicine is not just a career; it is a calling, and I am grateful for the opportunity to pursue it. With this scholarship, I will continue my studies with renewed dedication, honoring Crosby’s memory by making a difference in the lives of animals and those who care for them.