I am pursuing a career in education because I believe deeply in the transformative power of schools, especially for students who experience adversity, inequity, or marginalization. Throughout my career as an elementary teacher, adjunct professor, and doctoral student, I have witnessed how education can be both a barrier and a bridge. It can reinforce structural inequalities, or it can serve as an agent for healing, empowerment, and liberation. I remain in this field because I want to be part of the group of educators and leaders who choose the latter, who intentionally create environments where all children, particularly Black and Brown students, can thrive academically and emotionally. My purpose in education is rooted in my lived experiences and the students I have served. Teaching in communities impacted by poverty, systemic racism, food insecurity, and trauma has shown me how strongly external conditions shape classroom experiences. Many of my students carry invisible wounds, yet they still show up every day with brilliance, humor, curiosity, and the desire to be seen. Their resilience inspires me. Working with them reaffirmed that teaching is not simply about delivering content; it is about understanding the whole child, building authentic relationships, and creating a classroom culture grounded in love, high expectations, structure, and safety. Over the years, I have become committed to being the type of educator who meets students where they are, advocates fiercely for their needs, and ensures they have access to the opportunities they deserve. What keeps me in education is also the desire to expand my impact. After several years in the classroom, I realized that my influence could stretch further through leadership. This realization led me to pursue my doctoral degree in Educational Leadership. I chose this pathway because I understand that systemic issues require systemic solutions. I want to be part of shaping policies, practices, and school structures that better support teachers and students, especially those most affected by adverse childhood experiences and structural barriers. I believe leadership grounded in empathy, cultural responsiveness, and accountability can be a powerful force for change. Many people inspire my journey, but one person who stands out is my current principal. Through our conversations and my recent interview with her, I gained insight into her leadership style, rooted in structure, authenticity, and a deep sense of love for her staff and students. She leads with transparency and vulnerability, empowering teachers and cultivating a positive school culture. At one point, she shared that I reminded her of a younger version of herself, which caused me to reflect on my own potential as a future school leader. Her ability to balance compassion with high expectations and her belief that leadership is about service and capacity building have influenced how I think about my own leadership identity.

My name is Melinee Stewart, and I am an educator, adjunct professor, and doctoral candidate who believes that teaching is one of the most powerful tools for social change. Over the past eight years, I have taught in the Bay Area, where I’ve seen firsthand how inequities in resources, expectations, and access can shape a child’s future. My purpose as an educator has always been to ensure that my students, especially those from marginalized communities, know that they are capable, brilliant, and worthy of every opportunity. My education journey was not a straight path. I began teaching to make a difference in my community, but along the way, I found that education transformed me as well. Working with students who experienced trauma, homelessness, and systemic racism made me realize that effective teaching is about more than instruction; it’s about advocacy. I learned to view each lesson as an act of resistance against systems that tell children of color that their stories don’t matter. This realization has guided every decision I have made in my career. Currently, I am pursuing a Doctorate in Educational Leadership to expand my impact beyond my classroom walls. My dissertation research explores how structural racism and Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) intersect to influence behavior and academic outcomes for Black students. I am especially interested in how teachers’ perceptions and school policies can either perpetuate harm or foster healing. By studying this intersection, I aim to design trauma-informed, equity-driven systems that help schools view behavior as communication, rather than defiance. Through my doctoral work, I aim to become a consultant and professional development leader who supports districts in creating culturally responsive and trauma-sensitive environments. My goal is to train teachers to recognize how racism and community stressors shape student experiences and to equip them with strategies to respond with compassion and effectiveness. I also want to establish a scholarship fund for aspiring teachers of color, ensuring that classrooms reflect the diversity and brilliance of the students they serve. Beyond my career goals, I remain committed to service. I mentor new teachers, coordinate family literacy nights, and volunteer with youth mentorship programs. Each of these efforts reflects my belief that education is a collective responsibility, one that extends beyond the school day. Receiving this scholarship would not only lighten my financial burden as I complete my doctoral studies but would also represent an investment in the communities I serve. I am committed to utilizing my education to create a safe, affirming, and liberating environment for all children. Every degree I earn and every student I teach brings me one step closer to transforming education into what it was always meant to be, a pathway to equity, empowerment, and hope.

I never set out to become an educator. However, I became one the moment I became a mother. I realized education could change the trajectory of a child’s life. I did not want my child to have the same educational struggles I did. Growing up in a community where opportunity often felt scarce, I saw firsthand how inequitable systems shaped the futures of children who looked like me. That realization became my calling to education: to ensure that every student is seen, supported, and challenged to rise above their circumstances. Over the past decade, my educational journey has been anything but linear. I began as an elementary school teacher in an urban district where resources were limited, but students’ brilliance was boundless. Each day demanded creativity, empathy, and resilience. Working with students who carried trauma into the classroom, students who faced food insecurity, unstable housing, and systemic bias, forced me to confront how deeply social inequities intersect with learning. These experiences ignited my commitment to equity-centered teaching and ultimately led me to pursue higher education again, this time as a doctoral student in Educational Leadership. These lived experiences have shaped my values, equity, empathy, and empowerment. Education is not simply about academics; it is an act of social justice. Teaching has taught me that literacy and learning are forms of liberation, empowering students to tell their own stories and imagine new possibilities. Those values also shape how I lead. As an adjunct professor mentoring future teachers and as a doctoral candidate researching the impact of structural racism and Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) on Black students, I strive to prepare educators who see teaching as transformational work, not transactional labor. My career aspiration is to merge practice, policy, and research to dismantle the systemic barriers that limit students of color. Through my doctoral studies, I am building the skills to design trauma-informed, equity-based programs that support both students and educators. Ultimately, I plan to expand my consulting work to help schools and districts create cultures where academic success and emotional well-being coexist. I also want to establish a scholarship fund for aspiring teachers of color, an investment in the next generation of educators who will continue this work long after I am gone. Community service is not something I add to my résumé; it is an integral part of my daily practice. From mentoring high school seniors applying to college to organizing family literacy nights at my school and leading professional development workshops for teachers, I continually seek ways to give back. Each act, whether small or large, is part of my broader conviction that authentic leadership begins with service. Receiving this scholarship would alleviate the financial burden of my doctoral program, enabling me to devote more energy to research and community engagement. As a full-time educator and student, I fund my own tuition, and this support would be both practical and symbolic, affirming that my work and my students’ stories matter. My journey has taught me that purpose and perseverance can coexist with challenge. Higher education is not my escape from the classroom; it is my pathway back to it, better equipped, better informed, and more determined to make the invisible visible for every child who walks through a school door.

When I imagine living the life of my dreams, it doesn’t look like perfection; it looks like purpose. It looks like waking up every morning feeling fulfilled, walking in alignment with who I am, what I value, and the impact I’m here to make. In the life I’m building, I’ve earned my Doctorate in Educational Leadership, not just as a title, but as a tool. I’m leading meaningful work that transforms how schools serve Black and Brown students. I’ve published my first book, a culturally responsive guide for teachers working with students who have experienced trauma, and I’m speaking at conferences, district trainings, and universities across the country, helping educators reimagine equity not as a buzzword but as a daily practice. I’m still in the classroom, just not the same one. I now teach aspiring teachers, helping them develop the mindset, skills, and courage they need to thrive in real-world schools. I create space for honest conversations about race, trauma, and systemic inequities while equipping educators with tools rooted in compassion, evidence, and cultural relevance. I work closely with schools in historically underserved communities, consulting on curriculum, climate, and policy. My influence extends beyond a single school site and into systems that shape education on a broader scale. Financially, I’m stable and secure. I’ve paid off my student loans, purchased my first home, and have the freedom to travel with my daughter. Our passports are full, because for years I told her that education would open doors, and now we walk through those doors together. I’ve built generational wealth and modeled self-love, resilience, and ambition in real time. But even in the life of my dreams, service remains at the center. I mentor young Black girls through a nonprofit I’ve founded, an organization rooted in identity, healing, and leadership. We host summer workshops and global travel opportunities for youth who’ve been told that the world isn’t for them. I remind them it is. I remind them they belong. The life of my dreams is rooted in the lessons I’ve learned along the way: that struggle is not the end, that showing up matters, and that the classroom can be a site of liberation. It’s a life that honors where I’ve come from and pours into where I’m going. It’s not just about what I do, but who I become. Each course I complete, each student I uplift, and each scholarship I receive is a brick in the foundation of that dream. And while I may not be there yet, I know I’m on my way, because I’m building it every single day.

My name is Melinee Stewart, and my journey to higher education has been anything but linear; however, it has been deeply intentional. As a 42-year-old Black woman, single mother, and full-time educator, my decision to pursue a Doctorate in Educational Leadership is not just about professional growth; it's about liberation, legacy, and love. It is the culmination of lived experiences, systemic injustices, and an unwavering belief that education is both a right and a revolutionary force. I grew up knowing what it meant to navigate struggle and survive on resilience. I’ve watched how systems fail Black and Brown children, especially those who carry the invisible weight of trauma, poverty, and marginalization. As a classroom teacher for over eight years, I’ve seen brilliance overlooked because it didn’t speak in the “right” tone or exhibit the “right” behavior. I’ve taught students who couldn’t read yet knew how to decode survival. And in the face of that reality, I chose to rise, not just for me, but for them. One of the most pivotal moments in my journey occurred during a challenging school year, when I had a class filled with students carrying heavy emotional burdens. Many had Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs), were behind academically, and came from communities historically under-supported. Their needs were urgent, and the system was ill-equipped to meet them. I did what I could with the tools I had, but it wasn’t enough. That year, I realized I needed to deepen my knowledge, sharpen my voice, and position myself to influence change on a broader scale. That’s when I decided to pursue my doctorate. My values of equity, empathy, and accountability have been shaped by my roles as a mother, mentor, and teacher. Every child deserves an educator who sees them fully, and every educator deserves training that empowers them to teach with both cultural competency and compassion. We can no longer afford to address education without addressing systemic injustice. My research now centers on how ACEs impact African American students' academic outcomes, particularly in the context of systemic racism, redlining, and structural neglect in communities like my own in Alameda and Contra Costa counties. his scholarship will directly support my ability to continue pursuing my doctorate while balancing full-time teaching and parenting responsibilities. Every dollar helps cover the costs of tuition, textbooks, research materials, and essential technology I need to complete my program. Beyond the financial support, this scholarship also represents a vote of confidence in my journey and my mission. It allows me to focus more fully on my studies and community work, rather than constantly navigating financial stress. By alleviating this burden, the scholarship gives me the stability and encouragement to keep pushing toward my goals of transforming trauma-informed education and advocating for equity in underserved schools.

Every educator has at least one student who makes a lasting impression, not because of grades or perfect behavior, but because they push us to grow in unexpected ways. For me, that student is Audonis. Audonis was a second-grader in my class who faced many academic and behavioral challenges. Many people might have labeled him as “difficult.” He often had trouble focusing, called out frequently, threw tantrums that disrupted the class, and acted like the class clown. However, as I got to know him, I saw that underneath his behavior was a child who had gone through more trauma than many adults. Audonis had faced several Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs), such as exposure to or being part of violence, unstable housing, and inconsistent caregiving. These experiences shaped his behavior in and out of the classroom. What made Audonis unforgettable was not just his challenges but also his brilliance and curiosity. He responded well when someone recognized him for who he was. Despite his academic difficulties, he was able to make inferences during read-alouds and became very verbal when he felt safe. I started to have a positive impact on Audonis when I stopped trying to fix him and began learning from him. Instead of pushing him to meet grade-level expectations, I focused on his current skill level, which was at the kindergarten level. We worked together during intervention time in the afternoons, focusing on basic reading skills through games and storytelling. I changed my teaching style, and offered choices whenever possible, many time offering food as a reward. I adapted my classroom management to provide him with stability and a sense of connection. As I changed, he began to trust me more, and that trust led to his growth. But Audonis also changed me. He made me think about the systems in education that often punish trauma, label Black boys, and ignore the root causes of behavior. His story motivated me to pursue a Doctorate in Educational Leadership at San Jose State University. I am focusing my research on how Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) affect the academic and behavioral outcomes of African American students. I now see ACEs not as a checklist but as deep issues connected to racism, redlining, school funding inequities, and family separation from incarceration and poverty. Audonis showed me the need for schools to become places of healing. He taught me that behavior can communicate feelings and that educators should listen. I encourage teachers to look deeper and understand that emotional struggles often come from survival, not just discipline issues. Today, Audonis is no longer in my class, but his impact lives on. I think of him every time I meet a new student with a tough exterior and a tender heart. I carry his story into every conversation I have about school policy, curriculum design, and teacher training. He’s not just the reason I became a better teacher; he’s the reason I became a better human. If awarded this scholarship, I will continue to elevate stories like Audonis’s in my doctoral research and future work in both K–12 and higher education. His life reminds me that behind every behavior is a story, and behind every story is a child who just wants to be seen.

If I could create one mandatory class for all K–12 students, it would be a comprehensive Social-Emotional Learning (SEL) course focused on building emotional intelligence, self-awareness, and relationship skills. While academic success is essential, the most significant predictor of a student’s ability to thrive, both inside and outside the classroom, is not just their grades and test scores, but their ability to regulate emotions, manage conflict, show empathy, and develop a strong sense of self. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, we have seen a decline in students' interpersonal skills. Too often, schools prioritize test scores and academic benchmarks over student well-being. We ask students to perform at high levels while ignoring the emotional burdens they carry, many of which stem from systemic inequities, trauma, and adverse childhood experiences. I have witnessed how early intervention in emotional learning, combined with culturally responsive pedagogy, can make a lasting impact. SEL is not a “soft skill”; it’s a life skill. A structured SEL curriculum would provide students with a toolkit they can use far beyond the classroom: how to express their needs, advocate for themselves, navigate relationships, and build resilience. This class would be more than morning check-ins, behavior charts, and student advisories. It would be intentional and scaffolded across grade levels. In lower elementary, students would learn to name their feelings, use breathing techniques, and practice kindness. By middle school, they’d explore identity, healthy communication, and social dynamics. In high school, they will dive into emotional literacy, self-reflection, mental health, and leadership rooted in empathy. Throughout the course, we would affirm diverse cultural expressions of emotion and challenge the ways schools have historically punished students, especially Black and Brown students, for how they express pain or frustration. As a Black woman educator and doctoral student in Educational Leadership, my mission is to create healing-centered, culturally responsive spaces for all learners. Making SEL a mandatory course would not only support individual student growth but also transform school culture. Classrooms would become safer, more inclusive, and more connected. Discipline rates would drop. Academic engagement would rise. Students would graduate not only with the ability to pass a test, but with the tools to thrive in relationships, in college, in careers, and the community. We cannot afford to treat social-emotional learning as an add-on or an afterthought. It must be foundational. SEL would provide every student, regardless of their background, with the opportunity to be seen, heard, and empowered. That’s the class I would create, and that’s the kind of education I believe in.

As a single mother, educator, and first-generation college graduate, my motivation for pursuing higher education is deeply rooted in love, a desire to uphold my legacy, and a commitment to social justice. I am preparing to begin my Doctorate in Educational Leadership, not just for career advancement, but to disrupt inequitable systems in education and to lead with empathy, vision, and lived experience. My journey has never been a solo one. When I was completing my master’s degree, there were times when my daughter had to accompany me to class, quietly sitting in the back, coloring or reading while I took notes and participated in discussions. She observed me pushing through exhaustion, working long hours, and still showing up fully present for both my studies and for her. Those challenging moments are now some of my proudest because she didn’t just hear me say that education matters, she saw it. Now, as I prepare to start my doctoral program and she embarks on her college journey in the next two years, I find myself navigating not just one educational path, but two. The financial strain is significant. As a single-income household, I am managing my tuition, living expenses, and the emotional labor of parenthood, all while planning for the cost of my daughter’s college education. We often discuss her dreams and the possibilities ahead of her. I want her to step boldly into her future, without the weight of student debt. To achieve this, I need support not just in spirit, but also through tangible resources. This scholarship would significantly alleviate the financial burden I carry. It would allow me to focus more intentionally on my doctoral research, which will examine the impact of adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) on the academic outcomes and behavior of African American students. I aim to develop trauma-informed, equity-centered practices that support, not penalize, students from under-resourced communities. I want to be a voice in education reform that is grounded in experience, not just theory. I currently serve students at both the elementary and college levels. My dual role as a K–12 teacher and adjunct professor enables me to uplift young learners and shape the educators of tomorrow. My lived experience as a single mother provides me with a unique perspective, one rooted in compassion, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to equity. I am especially deserving of this award because I am pursuing higher education not only for myself but also to create generational change. I am doing it to model perseverance for my daughter. I am also working to reshape classrooms, campuses, and policies so they honor every child's potential. I carry the weight of both our futures with pride, and with the support of this scholarship, I will be able to take it with even greater strength.

My journey started in 2009 in my living room, where my daughter was my first student. From the moment she was born, I wanted to nurture her growth. As she grew, I became aware of the role I played in shaping her mind. I read to her every evening, with her favorite book being “Please, Baby. Please, Spike Lee. I taught her letters, explored nature together, visited the local library weekly, and toured every museum in the Bay Area by the age of 5. As I became more involved in my daughter's school, volunteering in the classroom, joining parent committees, and supporting school-wide events, I began to notice patterns. I observed students who reminded me of my daughter, who were being overlooked. I witnessed these disparities and the treatment of children based on the color of their skin and their family's economic status. These experiences motivated me to take action, so I decided to return to school to earn my teaching credential and Master’s degree. Today, I am proud to teach at both the lower elementary level and in higher education. In my elementary classroom, I understand that every child is someone's entire world. I meet my students where they are, honor their stories, and design instruction that reflects their brilliance, rather than just their deficits. My classroom is a joyful, rigorous, culturally responsive, and loving environment. I know from experience how powerful those early years are in shaping a child’s self-image, and I consider it a sacred responsibility to make the most of those years, infusing them with joy and love. In higher education, I teach future teachers. I hold space for their growth while also challenging them to think deeply about equity, trauma, and systemic injustice in schools. I use my experiences as a mother, teacher, and advocate to help them see beyond textbooks and theory. I teach them what it means to show up for kids, to hold high expectations with deep empathy, and to understand teaching not just as a job, but as a form of social justice. One of the most meaningful ways I plan to inspire others is through mentorship. I know how isolating it can be for teachers of color to navigate systems that weren’t built with us in mind. I’ve been the only Black woman in staff meetings. I’ve had my voice dismissed or my passion mistaken for aggression. I’ve fought through burnout while carrying the weight of my students’ trauma on my shoulders. I want to be the mentor. I wish I had someone who affirms, empowers, and uplifts. This role of mentorship is crucial in providing support and guidance to those who need it most. I aim to bridge the gap between policy, theory, and practice, as well as between families and schools, and between educators and the communities they serve. I strive to create environments where educators feel empowered and motivated to meet every child with compassion and cultural sensitivity. My journey began with love. It has evolved into advocacy, and it continues today as a mission to teach, inspire, and transform education from the inside out. This is why I have decided to pursue a Doctoral Degree in Educational Leadership.

My journey started in 2009 in my living room, where my daughter was my first student. From the moment she was born, I wanted to nurture her growth. As she grew, I became aware of my role in shaping her mind. I read to her every evening, and her favorite book is “Please, Baby. Please, Spike Lee. I taught her letters, explored nature together, visited the local library weekly, and toured every museum in the Bay Area by age 5. I noticed patterns as I became more involved in my daughter's school, volunteering in the classroom, joining parent committees, and supporting school-wide events. I observed students who reminded me of my daughter being overlooked. I witnessed these disparities and the treatment of children based on the color of their skin and their family's economic status. These experiences motivated me to take action, so I returned to school to earn my teaching credential and Master’s degree. Today, I am proud to teach at the lower elementary level and higher education. In my elementary classroom, I understand that every child is someone's entire world. I meet my students where they are, honor their stories, and design instruction that reflects their brilliance, rather than just their deficits. My classroom is a joyful, rigorous, culturally responsive, and loving environment. I know from experience how powerful those early years are in shaping a child’s self-image, and I consider it a sacred responsibility to make the most of those years, infusing them with joy and love. In higher education, I teach future teachers. I hold space for their growth while challenging them to think deeply about equity, trauma, and systemic injustice in schools. I use my experiences as a mother, teacher, and advocate to help them see beyond textbooks and theory. I teach them what it means to show up for kids, to hold high expectations with deep empathy, and to understand teaching not just as a job, but as a form of social justice. One of the most meaningful ways I plan to inspire others is through mentorship. I know how isolating it can be for teachers of color to navigate systems that weren’t built with us in mind. I’ve been the only Black woman in staff meetings. I’ve had my voice dismissed or my passion mistaken for aggression. I’ve fought through burnout while carrying the weight of my students’ trauma on my shoulders. I want to be the mentor. I wish I had someone who affirms, empowers, and uplifts. This role of mentorship is crucial in supporting and guiding those who need it most. I aim to bridge the gap between policy, theory, and practice, as well as between families and schools, and between educators and the communities they serve. I strive to create environments where educators feel empowered and motivated to meet every child with compassion and cultural sensitivity. My journey began with love. It has evolved into advocacy and continues today as a mission to teach, inspire, and transform education from the inside out. This is why I have decided to pursue a Doctoral Degree in Educational Leadership.