There’s a special kind of audacity required to start over at 40. It’s the kind that looks like believing in second chances even when the world expects you to coast, not climb. My courage to return to higher education was shaped by lived experience, years of juggling work, motherhood, creativity, setbacks, growth, reinvention, and ultimately, purpose. I began adulthood building a career in Commercial Graphics, where deadlines move faster than caffeine can hit your bloodstream. My professional foundation was forged in visual communication, customer service, and problem-solving skills that served me well in supporting my family, but also taught me something deeper: design can shape a message, but care can change a life. As a mother of three, my world revolved around advocacy long before I knew the word nurse would become part of my identity. Navigating IEP meetings, pediatric appointments, seasonal illnesses, extracurricular schedules, and the invisible emotional labor of raising strong, independent kids turned me into a champion of small wins. Life taught me that showing up is half the battle… and the half most people overlook. When I decided to pursue nursing, it wasn’t because I suddenly had free time (laughable). It was because I finally recognized that healthcare was where I could create the greatest impact, not just for my family, but for my community. Nursing isn’t a career change; it’s a career amplification. It’s taking everything you’ve learned in one life and plugging it into a place where it actually saves lives. My values today are shaped by resilience, fairness, empathy, neurodiversity advocacy, evidence-based decision-making, and community service. I don’t serve my community to be seen; I serve because the community once held me up when I needed it most. That belief echoes the legacy of Debra S. Jackson. Her journey affirmed what I know firsthand: education later in life isn’t a deviation from the plan. It is the plan when the original blueprint no longer fits. I plan to use my ADN (Associate Degree in Nursing) to make an impact in underserved areas by advocating for maternal health, accessible patient education, and compassionate care models. I want to contribute to community programs focused on prenatal support, postpartum mental health awareness, and pediatric wellness, initiatives where nurses act not just as clinicians, but community anchors. This scholarship would provide more than tuition relief. It would give me bandwidth, more time in clinical skills labs, more opportunity to volunteer without sacrificing gas money, more ability to focus on patient-centered study modules, and ultimately, more momentum toward becoming a nurse who doesn’t just enter the profession but shapes it. I’m not going back to school for a second chance. I’m going back because I have finally realized that my second career can become someone else’s second chance. And I intend to wear that responsibility proudly, loudly, and with impact. In a world obsessed with early bloomers, I’m here for the late-game legends. The ones who raise kids, pay bills, design logos at midnight, and then decide, against all logic but aligned with all purpose, to save lives by sunrise. That is what called me back to school. This scholarship makes the horizon achievable. It turns ambition into progress, drive into clinical hours, and impact into reality. It’s not just financial support, it’s a catalyst for difference. And I’m ready to be part of it.

Courage doesn’t always roar; sometimes it shows up as a quiet voice at 4 A.M. saying, “Try again today.” That is where my journey back to education began, and it is exactly where it continues. I returned to school in pursuit of a nursing degree, a second career built not on convenience, but conviction. The true catalyst for my courage, though, wasn’t a single moment. It was the accumulation of many: sleepless nights, hesitant new beginnings, and the unwavering eyes of my children watching me rebuild my path one determined step at a time. I initially entered college right after high school, unsure of who I was yet or what I wanted. Life quickly shifted into full-time work and full-time motherhood, leaving academia packed away behind carpool lines, pediatric appointments, freelance graphic design deadlines, and every responsibility that families quietly rely on. And while I built a career I’m proud of, I always felt a tug toward doing more for my community, more for my family, and more for myself. When I discovered nursing, that tug finally snapped into focus. My courage to return to school was shaped and reinforced by a powerful example, Susie Green, whose resilience mirrors that of so many women who choose education later in life. Her determination reminded me that starting over isn’t a setback; it’s a skill. Mothers who go back to school learn one thing fast: you don’t need permission to rewrite your future. You only need purpose. I found mine in service. Witnessing the gaps in accessible and compassionate care within communities like my own fueled my ambition to fill them. Nursing offers a front-row seat to human vulnerability, and I want to meet it with competence, empathy, and leadership. But it also offers something deeply personal, proof to my children that we are never done becoming who we’re meant to be. I draw courage from them daily. I want my daughters to know strength is something you practice, like studying uncomfortable chapters for 121 modules or choosing grit over giving up when you’re bone-tired. I want my son to know caregivers can also be leaders. I want them all to witness firsthand that resilience looks like going back when it would be easier to stand still. The older I get, the less I fear failure, and the more I fear the cost of not trying. Nothing gave me more courage to return to school than recognizing that regret ages worse than risk ever does. I came back not to chase a diploma, but to become a nurse who makes an impact, a clinician, an advocate, and a woman who proves that education, ambition, and transformation have no expiration date. If courage had a uniform, mine would be scrubs, strong coffee, and the knowledge that my comeback teaches as loudly as it changes.

Nursing is not just a career choice for me; it is a calling that has grown out of both my personal experiences and my deepest values. As a single mother of three children, I have spent years balancing work, parenting, and education, often starting my days at 4 AM and finishing long after bedtime. These sacrifices have not only built resilience in me but also reinforced my belief in the importance of compassion, perseverance, and service. My nursing journey was not a straight line, but every step has taught me that this is exactly where I am meant to be. My decision to pursue a career in nursing stems from my desire to meet people where they are, often in moments of fear, pain, or uncertainty, and provide care that extends beyond clinical tasks. I have seen firsthand how healthcare can feel cold and rushed, leaving patients and families feeling invisible. I want to change that. I want to be the nurse who not only monitors vital signs and administers medications but also takes the time to listen, to comfort, and to advocate. For me, nursing is about treating the whole person: their body, mind, and dignity. Academically, I have worked hard to prepare myself, maintaining a strong GPA while working and raising a family. Every exam I pass and every clinical skill I master feels like progress, not just for me, but for my children, who see that perseverance can turn dreams into reality. My long-term goal is to specialize in maternal and child health, particularly in communities where disparities in care are the greatest. Too often, women and children, especially in underserved or minority populations, lack access to quality care. I want to be a voice and an advocate in those spaces, ensuring every mother and child receives compassionate, culturally competent, and equitable healthcare. My vision as a community health ambassador goes beyond the hospital walls. I hope to bring education and resources directly into the community, where people often feel disconnected from healthcare systems. Whether through health fairs, prenatal education workshops, or school-based wellness initiatives, I want to bridge the gap between families and the care they need. Preventive education, teaching families about nutrition, early childhood development, or chronic disease management, can empower them to take control of their health before emergencies occur. I also believe in leading by example. My children are watching me carve a new path, and I hope my story shows them and others that it is never too late to rewrite your future. If I can inspire even one other parent, student, or community member to keep going despite obstacles, then I am already making an impact. Receiving this scholarship would lift a tremendous financial weight, allowing me to focus more fully on my studies and clinical experiences. But more than that, it would affirm that the effort I am putting into my education and my future is seen and valued. I am determined to use my degree not only to provide excellent bedside care but to strengthen and uplift the health of my entire community. For me, nursing is not just about healing illness; it is about planting seeds of hope, education, and empowerment that can grow for generations.

I grew up learning that resilience isn’t just about bouncing back, it’s about moving forward with purpose, even when the odds are stacked against you. As a single mother of three, a nursing student, and someone working long hours to keep my family afloat, I’ve faced my share of challenges. But those same challenges have shaped my values, my work ethic, and my deep commitment to helping others. My journey hasn’t been a straight path. I didn’t have the luxury of going directly to college after high school; life demanded that I focus on providing for my children first. Over time, I realized that while I was making ends meet, I wasn’t fulfilling my true potential. I’ve always felt called to serve people in their most vulnerable moments, and nursing became the clear answer. It’s not just a career, it’s my way of making a tangible difference in the lives of others, especially those who feel unseen or underserved. Balancing full-time work, college classes, and motherhood means there are days I’m exhausted before the sun even rises. My mornings often start at 4 AM, and my nights end long after my children are asleep. But I keep going because I want my kids to see that hard work and determination can break cycles and open doors. I want them to understand that while life isn’t always fair, they can still take control of their story. Beyond academics, my passions revolve around creating safe and supportive spaces, whether that’s for my children, my classmates, or my future patients. I believe education is a powerful equalizer, and I’m determined to use my nursing degree to advocate for better healthcare access, especially for those in low-income communities who often feel like they have no voice in their own care. My long-term goal is to specialize in maternal and child health, ensuring that mothers and babies receive compassionate, thorough, and culturally competent care. The experiences that have shaped me are both my struggles and my triumphs. Watching my kids grow into empathetic, determined individuals reminds me that the sacrifices are worth it. Facing moments where I wasn’t sure how I’d make ends meet taught me resourcefulness. And every exam I pass in nursing school is proof that I’m capable of more than I once believed. This scholarship would not only lighten the financial burden of tuition and supplies, it would serve as a reminder that others believe in my journey, too. It would allow me to focus more on my studies and less on how I’ll afford the next semester. I carry the same values Sloane Stephens honors through this award: resilience, kindness, and self-belief. Like her grandparents’ influence on her, my children are the reason I keep striving, and they’re the legacy I want to leave, one of perseverance, compassion, and community impact. I may not be on a tennis court, but every day I fight my own version of championship matches: against doubt, against limitations, and against the idea that where you start has to determine where you finish. My story is still being written, and I intend to make it one worth telling.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 4, Paragraph 3 “Do not waste what remains of your life in speculating about your neighbors, unless with a view to some mutual benefit. Suppose you are often forgetting what you should be doing yourself, and falling short of some other task when you focus on what so-and-so is doing and why. What is he saying, thinking, plotting? What does he want, and all the rest that makes us forget ourselves, keep clear of that kind of thing. So instead of being distracted by trifles, you must train yourself to think only of what is yours and how to direct it toward the common good.” Reclaiming Attention as a Moral Act In this passage from Meditations, Marcus Aurelius contends that speculating about others is not just a waste of time; it is a dereliction of personal duty. Through this lens, attention itself becomes a moral resource: a finite, powerful force that must be directed inward toward self-discipline and outward toward the common good. The Stoic’s message here is a call to mental sovereignty, not for selfish retreat but as a foundation for purposeful living and social contribution. The passage opens with a direct and sobering instruction: “Do not waste what remains of your life…” The phrase immediately frames time as both limited and sacred. Aurelius doesn’t say “don’t waste time.” he says “what remains of your life,” a phrasing that reminds us death is always present, always near. In Stoic philosophy, the constant contemplation of mortality, memento mori, is not morbid but clarifying. Time is a currency too precious to spend speculating about others’ intentions or actions. But Aurelius is not simply warning against gossip. His caution extends to all unproductive mental chatter that pulls us away from our personal responsibilities: “What is he saying, thinking, plotting? What does he want?” These rhetorical questions mimic the intrusive thoughts we all entertain, thoughts that seem benign, even useful, but often serve only to distract and derail us from our own tasks. These inquiries pretend to be meaningful, but Aurelius reveals them as hollow. They produce no progress, only passive noise. And that noise, he warns, leads to self-forgetting. “You are often forgetting what you should be doing yourself.” Here, Aurelius makes a powerful philosophical point: when you obsess over what others are doing, you forfeit your own agency. You become less effective, less whole. In short, speculation replaces action. This is antithetical to Stoic virtue, which is rooted in action, clarity, and intention. He then draws a sharp line: “Keep clear of that kind of thing.” It's a command, not a suggestion. Stoicism trains the mind to filter distraction, and that filtration is not cold detachment; it is an act of devotion to purpose. Aurelius then shifts toward a positive directive: “Train yourself to think only of what is yours…” In Stoicism, “what is yours” is your reason, your choices, your response. It’s not about possessions or pride. It’s about your domain, what you can control, but Aurelius doesn’t stop at self-interest. He clarifies that this focus should be directed “toward the common good.” Here, Stoicism’s often misunderstood individualism folds back into communal ethics. The goal of self-discipline is not isolation; it’s effectiveness. You work on yourself so you can serve others. True virtue, in Aurelius’ view, is relational. In the age of social media, this paragraph feels prophetic. We spend hours absorbed in curated fragments of others’ lives, reading captions, judging intentions, forming opinions based on half-truths. We have more access to others’ thoughts than ever before, and yet less clarity about our own. Aurelius warns that this overexposure to others’ lives dilutes our purpose. His solution? Reclaim your attention. Guard it. Not just for your own peace, but because your peace fuels your impact. Marcus Aurelius isn’t simply preaching self-focus; he’s redefining attention as a moral act. In resisting the temptation to speculate about others, we reclaim the most powerful tool we have: our focus. That focus, when directed inward for growth and outward for service, becomes the bedrock of a meaningful life. In a world built to distract us, Aurelius’ advice is not just ancient wisdom; it’s radical clarity.

I didn’t grow up dreaming of being a nurse. But life has a way of revealing your calling through lived experience, especially when your days are filled with caring for others, whether you signed up for it or not. As a single mother of three, a full-time worker, and now a nursing student, I’ve walked through the fire of struggle, and what’s been forged from that is a deep passion for healing, advocating, and showing up when it matters most. My journey to nursing began long before I ever enrolled in a program. I’ve been a caregiver my entire adult life, juggling bottles and bills, school drop-offs and doctor’s appointments, holding everything together when it felt like I had nothing left to give. Through it all, I found myself drawn to health care, not just as a system, but as a human experience. I’ve sat beside hospital beds and worried through test results. I’ve seen the difference a good nurse can make, and I’ve also seen what happens when patients are treated like numbers instead of people. Those moments didn’t just inspire me: they lit a fire in me. I chose nursing because it aligns with who I already am: compassionate, strong, resilient, and committed. But it’s not just about a paycheck or job security, it’s about purpose. I aspire to work in surgical or critical care nursing, ultimately becoming an RN First Assistant, where I can support both patients and surgeons during life-changing procedures. I aim to bring humanity to high-stakes environments and serve as a calming presence when people are at their most vulnerable. Like Rose Browne, I’m earning my degree while raising a family and working. I know what it’s like to study after putting kids to bed, to work a shift with two hours of sleep, to wonder if you can do it all, and then do it anyway. That’s the spirit of nursing: pushing forward not because it’s easy, but because it’s worth it. This scholarship would not only relieve financial pressure, but it would also carry deep personal meaning. To be supported in the memory of a woman like Rose, who lived the same balance of work, motherhood, and academic achievement, I’m striving toward: would be both validating and inspiring. It reminds me that I’m not alone in this, and that strong women who choose nursing often come from lives of service and sacrifice. I’m not just pursuing a nursing degree. I’m continuing a legacy of caregiving, resilience, and showing up for others with everything I’ve got. And just like Rose, I plan to pass that legacy on, not only to my children, but to every patient I will someday care for.

What I want to build isn’t just a career... I want to build a life that heals. As a nursing student, a full-time worker, and a single mother of three, I’ve learned that building something meaningful doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not just about big moments: it’s in the daily grind, the sleepless nights, the sacrifices, and the stubborn belief that I can turn struggle into strength. My goal is to build a future rooted in compassion, resilience, and service, and to use my education as the foundation. I’m pursuing a degree in nursing not only to care for patients but to advocate for families who are often unseen and unheard. Healthcare can be overwhelming, especially for those without support systems, stable income, or health literacy. I want to build trust with every patient I serve, particularly those in underserved communities who need more than just medical attention, they need someone who listens, who explains, and who fights for their dignity. But I’m not just building a professional future, I’m also building something deeply personal: a legacy for my children. I want them to grow up knowing that their mom didn’t let hardship win. That she got up early, worked hard, studied harder, and never gave up. I want them to see that building a life isn’t about perfection, it’s about purpose. This scholarship would be an investment in that purpose. It would ease the financial strain that comes with being an adult learner and allow me to focus more fully on my clinical training and education. With less worry about making ends meet, I could give more to my studies, my children, and my future patients. Ultimately, what I’m building is more than a nursing degree. I’m building a future where empathy meets action, where education becomes empowerment, and where my journey helps light the way for others who might think it’s “too late” to dream big. I’m not just aiming higher, I’m climbing, step by step, to build something that lasts.

I am a first-generation college student, a full-time nursing student, and a single mother of three. Every part of that sentence carries weight. My journey hasn’t been easy, but it has shaped me into someone who refuses to quit, no matter the odds. Growing up, college always felt more like a dream than a plan. No one in my family had gone before me, and we didn’t have the financial means to make higher education feel like an option. I learned early to be independent, to work hard, and to make sacrifices, but I didn’t always know how to ask for help or navigate systems that weren’t built for people like me. I’ve worked multiple jobs to make ends meet, often choosing between rent and textbooks. I’ve studied for exams with a baby on my lap and pushed through exhaustion that only single parents truly understand. But despite the struggle, I’ve never lost sight of my “why.” I’m pursuing nursing because I know what it means to feel vulnerable. I’ve seen loved ones in hospital beds. I’ve watched over my children through fevers and scares. I’ve also experienced what it means to feel unseen or overwhelmed in a healthcare system that sometimes moves too fast to care deeply. I want to be the kind of nurse who slows down, who sees people, who advocates fiercely, especially for those who don’t have a voice. Being in nursing school as a single mom comes with constant challenges: financial, emotional, and logistical. There are days I question how I’ll get through, but then I remember who I’m doing this for: my kids, who deserve stability and a strong role model. And for myself, because I deserve to build a future that honors how hard I’ve worked to get here. This scholarship would do more than help pay for school. It would relieve the constant pressure of having to choose between working extra hours and staying home to study. It would mean I could afford clinical supplies without pulling from my grocery budget. It would mean someone believes in me, and that kind of support is priceless. The Clarice Kanouse Memorial Scholarship doesn’t just honor someone who changed her family’s future through education; it reflects the exact path I’m on. My long-term goal is to become an RN, then continue toward a BSN, and eventually specialize in surgical nursing as an RN First Assistant. I want to work in high-stakes environments where compassion and competence are equally vital. More importantly, I want to show my children and other first-generation students that where you start doesn’t define where you finish. This scholarship would be more than financial aid; it would be fuel. Fuel to keep going, to push harder, and to one day pay it forward by lifting others as I climb.

At 40, I didn’t just decide to go back to school—I decided to rewrite the story I’d been surviving in for years. Life didn’t hand me a straight path. I’m a single mother of three incredible kids, a nursing student, a graphic designer by trade, and someone who knows what it means to carry the weight of a family, a job, and a dream, all at once. I spent years showing up for everyone else, wearing all the hats, and telling myself I’d get to my goals “eventually.” It eventually came when I realized that I wasn’t done becoming myself. I had more to give, more to learn, and more to prove: not just to the world, but to myself. Returning to school in my 40s isn’t a sign I missed my chance, it’s proof I’m finally taking it. Every late-night study session, every early-morning shift, and every moment I’ve spent balancing school and motherhood has taught me something deeper than textbooks ever could. It’s taught me that resilience isn’t loud; it’s consistent. It’s waking up at 4 AM for work, studying in between responsibilities, still making time to show up at my kids’ school events, and somehow keeping enough love left over for myself to believe I can do this. My journey hasn’t been easy. I’ve lived through divorce, financial struggles, and self-doubt. But those struggles gave me my values: compassion, determination, and the deep belief that we are never too old, too broken, or too late to rise. These values are what led me to pursue nursing. I want to care for people when they’re at their most vulnerable, just like I’ve had to be strong during my own vulnerable moments. I know what it’s like to feel unseen, overwhelmed, and like the world keeps spinning without waiting for you to catch your breath. That’s why I want to be the kind of nurse who makes people feel safe, heard, and human. This scholarship would be more than financial help: it would be an affirmation. A reminder that someone believes in second chances and late bloomers as much as I do. With this support, I can keep moving forward with less financial stress and more focus on becoming the kind of nurse, mother, and woman I’m proud of. I plan to use my education to serve both in hospitals and in underserved communities, especially those dealing with trauma, poverty, and limited access to care. I want to be part of the solution. I want to mentor other women who think they’re “too old” to chase something new. I want to carry forward the legacy of people like Debra S. Jackson, who didn’t just restart her life, she redefined it. And so will I.

To me, legacy means leaving behind something that outlasts you: something meaningful, impactful, and rooted in love, growth, and purpose. It’s not about wealth or status. It’s about values. It’s the way you show up for others, the way you rise when life gets hard, and the way you inspire those who come after you to believe in more for themselves. Legacy is what you build quietly in the day-to-day and what echoes after you’re gone. My upbringing shaped me in both beautiful and brutal ways. I grew up learning how to be strong, how to adapt, and how to survive; sometimes more than how to simply be a child. There wasn’t always emotional security or financial stability. I learned early that love and hardship often walked hand-in-hand, and that sometimes the people who were supposed to protect you were still learning how to heal themselves. But instead of letting that harden me, I’ve chosen to let it shape me. My childhood gave me empathy; the kind that doesn’t flinch in the face of someone else's pain. It gave me perspective and a fire to create a different life, one filled with intention and purpose. That’s what led me to nursing. I’ve seen firsthand what it’s like to be vulnerable, to feel invisible, to be struggling in silence. And I’ve also seen how powerful it is when someone finally sees you. I want to be that person for my patients. I want my children to grow up watching their mom live with purpose, fight for her goals, and help others rise, too. I’m determined to break cycles, not just for me, but for my kids. I want them to know stability, safety, and unconditional love. I want them to grow up believing they’re enough: not because of what they achieve, but because of who they are. That means showing them a different way, through emotional availability, consistency, and showing up even when I’m exhausted. And breaking cycles doesn’t mean hating where I come from. It means honoring the lessons, learning from the pain, and choosing something better. It means I build the kind of legacy I didn’t inherit, but one I’m proud to pass on. A legacy of healing. Of strength that doesn’t need to be quiet. Of vulnerability that doesn’t mean weakness. Of choosing peace, education, and compassion over chaos. My path hasn’t been traditional or easy, but it’s been real. I’m in nursing school now, raising three amazing kids, and rebuilding what it means to thrive. Every lecture, every shift, every late night studying is a brick in the foundation I’m laying for my family’s future. I don’t just want to leave a legacy, I want to live it out loud, every day, in every room I walk into, in every life I touch. That’s what legacy means to me. And that’s exactly what I’m building.

My plans for the future are rooted in both purpose and passion. I am currently pursuing my Associate Degree in Nursing with the goal of becoming a Registered Nurse, and I plan to continue on to earn my Bachelor of Science in Nursing shortly after. Ultimately, I intend to specialize in surgical nursing and become a certified RN First Assistant, where I can work alongside surgeons in the operating room, providing critical support during procedures and ensuring patients receive the highest quality care. These goals aren’t just professional, they’re personal. As a single mother of three, I’ve built my life around showing up for others, whether it’s my children, my patients, or my community. Nursing is the career that allows me to do exactly that. It’s where my heart and my grit meet. I’ve chosen a path that demands skill, empathy, and strength: qualities I’ve developed through years of balancing work, parenting, and now, a rigorous nursing program. The Bright Lights Scholarship would be an incredible gift in helping me stay the course. Nursing school is rewarding, but it’s also financially demanding. Between tuition, textbooks, clinical uniforms, and transportation, the costs add up quickly. As someone who works while going to school and raises a family, every bit of support goes a long way. This $1,200 scholarship would help relieve the pressure of those expenses so I can continue to focus on what truly matters; learning, growing, and ultimately becoming the kind of nurse my future patients deserve. Beyond easing the financial burden, this scholarship represents something much bigger: it’s a vote of confidence. It says, “We believe in your potential.” That kind of encouragement matters deeply when you’re juggling multiple roles and trying to build a better life not just for yourself, but for the next generation. My children are watching me work hard, stay up late studying, and refuse to quit when things get hard. With this scholarship, I’ll be able to show them that support and opportunity exist for those who are willing to fight for their dreams. In the future, I don’t just want to work in healthcare: I want to lead with heart, advocate for vulnerable populations, and use my voice to make systems more compassionate and inclusive. The Bright Lights Scholarship would help me take one step closer to that vision. Thank you for considering me. Your support would help me keep going, shine brighter, and give back to others in ways I’ve always dreamed of.

Receiving the Dr. William and Jo Sherwood Family Scholarship would make a profound difference in my life: academically, financially, and personally. As a full-time nursing student, a working professional, and a single mother of three, every dollar counts and every moment is accounted for. This scholarship would significantly reduce the financial burden of pursuing higher education and allow me to devote more energy to becoming the best nurse I can be. Balancing school, work, and motherhood isn’t easy, but it has taught me the kind of strength and perseverance that nursing demands. Nursing school requires long clinical hours, intensive studying, and emotional resilience. At the same time, my children need a present, supportive mother. The support from this scholarship would mean fewer hours at work and more time to focus on both my studies and my kids. It would allow me to purchase the textbooks and supplies I need without having to sacrifice essentials at home. It would also reduce the stress of tuition payments, allowing me to enter my clinical rotations with more focus, less worry, and a deeper commitment to patient care. In a broader sense, receiving this scholarship is not just about financial assistance: it’s about what it represents. It means someone believes in my potential. That kind of belief is powerful fuel when you’re juggling so many responsibilities. It would serve as a reminder that I am not alone in this journey, that some people and organizations support future nurses and understand the sacrifices we make to serve others. Looking ahead, I plan to graduate with my associate degree in nursing, become a licensed RN, and continue to earn my BSN. Ultimately, I want to work in surgical nursing and possibly become an RN First Assistant. My goal is to provide compassionate, skilled care to patients during some of the most critical moments of their lives. I also want to be a role model for my children, showing them that it’s never too late to pursue your passion and that hard work truly does pay off. This scholarship is more than just a check; it’s an opportunity to push forward with less weight on my shoulders. It’s a stepping stone to a better future, not just for me, but for the patients I will serve and the children I am raising. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to be considered for the Dr. William and Jo Sherwood Family Scholarship, and I carry that hope with me every step of the way.

I decided to pursue a career in nursing because I’ve always felt called to care for others, especially during their most vulnerable moments. Nursing isn’t just a job to me...it’s a purpose. I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed, exhausted, and in need of someone who sees, hears, and shows up for you with compassion and skill. I want to be that person for someone else. As a single mother of three, I’ve spent years navigating life with a unique blend of grit and heart. There were days I wasn’t sure how to manage dinner, homework, and a night shift, let alone nursing school, but I kept going. And every time my kids looked at me, I was reminded exactly why. I’m doing this not just to create a better future for them, but to show them what it means to persevere, to follow a calling, and to make a difference in the world. My inspiration to become a nurse didn’t come from one moment; it came from a collection of them. I’ve watched nurses care for my loved ones with grace and strength that I admired deeply. I’ve seen the difference that a kind word, a gentle touch, or a steady hand can make in a crisis. And I’ve been the one holding it all together for my own family when no one else could. Those experiences lit a fire in me. I realized I have what it takes, not just the intelligence or work ethic, but the empathy, patience, and emotional fortitude that the profession demands. Nursing allows me to combine the two strongest parts of myself: the caregiver and the problem-solver. It’s where my heart meets my hustle. I am currently working toward my Associate Degree in Nursing and have maintained a 4.0 GPA despite the intense balancing act that is my life. I’ve learned to study between soccer games and bedtime stories, to write care plans after 12-hour shifts, and to still show up as both a student and a mom. The path hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change it. Every challenge has shaped me into the nurse I’m becoming, one who is grounded, compassionate, and unshakably determined. This scholarship would not only help alleviate the financial burden of school but would also be a reminder that my hard work and persistence are worth investing in. I carry the weight of doing this alone, but I also carry the pride that comes from doing it with purpose. I’m not just earning a degree; I’m building a life of service, advocacy, and strength for myself, for my children, and for every future patient I’ll be honored to care for. I learned about this scholarship through Bold.org.