Adversity has been a constant presence throughout my career, but it has never defined my limits it has defined my work ethic. As a woman in the electrical trade, I have navigated physical demands, mental pressure, and environments where I was often underestimated before I was understood. Rather than allowing those challenges to discourage me, I used them as motivation to pursue excellence, culminating in earning my Master Electrician license. From the beginning of my career, I understood that preparation would be my strongest advantage. In a field where mistakes carry real consequences, accuracy and clarity matter. I committed myself to deeply understanding electrical systems, codes, and documentation so I could work confidently and communicate effectively. Mastering this knowledge allowed me to earn trust through consistency, not volume. It also taught me how to translate complex information into clear direction an essential skill on any job site. The journey to becoming a Master Electrician was demanding both physically and mentally. Long hours, job-site fatigue, and the pressure of balancing work with exam preparation tested my resilience. There were moments when doubt crept in, especially when I was one of the few women present and felt the need to constantly prove my capability. Instead of internalizing that pressure, I relied on discipline. I created structured study routines, broke large goals into achievable steps, and stayed focused on progress rather than perfection. Mental adversity was just as challenging as physical strain. Being overlooked or underestimated can slowly erode confidence if left unchecked. I chose to respond by holding myself to higher standards. I asked questions, sought mentorship, and welcomed feedback, knowing that growth requires humility and persistence. Over time, this mindset not only strengthened my technical abilities but also developed my leadership skills. Earning my Master Electrician license represents more than professional advancement it represents ownership of my expertise in an industry where women are still underrepresented. It stands as proof that skill, discipline, and determination outweigh assumptions. It also reinforced my responsibility to lead by example, support safer work practices, and help improve communication and accessibility of information in the field. Adversity has clarified my purpose and strengthened my ambition. With continued education and professional development, I plan to build on my Master license by contributing as a leader who values precision, mentorship, and inclusion. This scholarship would support my continued growth and allow me to expand my impact, proving that resilience and expertise are powerful tools for lasting success in the trades.

Reality television can do more than entertain, it can reveal how people communicate, collaborate, and respond to pressure. My original Love Island challenge, “Wired for Love,” was designed to spotlight those qualities in a fun but meaningful way. In this challenge, couples are separated into two roles. One partner sees the full picture and must guide the other through a series of obstacles using words alone. They cannot see each other, touch, or step in to help. Success depends on trust, patience, and the ability to explain things clearly without frustration. When communication breaks down, progress stops immediately. When it works, everything moves faster. Halfway through, a surprise twist allows Islanders to receive guidance from someone outside their couple. This moment tests adaptability and exposes how easily miscommunication can occur when people do not share the same style or understanding. It quickly becomes clear which couples have built real connection and which rely on assumption rather than listening. The challenge rewards teamwork over speed and clarity over confidence. The prize is private time together, while the consequence encourages reflection instead of embarrassment. “Wired for Love” shows that compatibility is not just about attraction, but about how two people work together when things get confusing. By blending entertainment with insight, this challenge proves that strong communication is the real spark.

I am currently pursuing a degree in Business Management at The University of Texas at San Antonio because I believe effective leadership and ethical decision-making are essential tools for creating meaningful change. I chose this program to gain a strong foundation in organizational strategy, communication, and management skills that can be applied across industries and communities. Business, when done right, is not just about profit; it is about people, opportunity, and responsibility. My interest in Business Management grew from observing how leadership directly affects outcomes in both professional and community settings. I have seen how clear direction, accountability, and empathy can transform teams and organizations. At UTSA, I am developing the skills needed to lead with intention and integrity, preparing myself to contribute positively in both the workplace and the broader community. I plan to make an impact by using my education to support and uplift underserved populations, particularly through mentorship, volunteerism, and community-based initiatives. I am passionate about service and have actively volunteered through my church with organizations that support foster children and families. These experiences reinforced my belief that strong leadership must include compassion and a commitment to giving back. In my future career, I intend to advocate for inclusive practices, equitable opportunities, and programs that invest in people, not just processes. In the field of business, women especially women of color remain underrepresented in leadership roles. According to national data, women hold a significantly smaller percentage of executive and management positions compared to men, with even lower representation among minority groups. As a woman pursuing a business degree, I represent a demographic that is still working to close long-standing gaps in leadership and influence. This reality motivates me rather than discourages me. I see my education as both an opportunity and a responsibility to help shift these statistics. I plan to inspire the next generation by being visible, accessible, and intentional about mentorship. Representation matters, especially for young students who may not see themselves reflected in business leadership. By sharing my experiences, offering guidance, and supporting educational pathways, I hope to encourage others to pursue careers they may not have previously considered achievable. I want future leaders to understand that success in business does not require sacrificing values, identity, or service to others. Pursuing a degree in Business Management at UTSA is a step toward becoming a leader who prioritizes ethical growth, community engagement, and inclusivity. Through education, service, and mentorship, I am committed to increasing representation in my field and helping create opportunities for those who follow.

I am someone who believes that service is most meaningful when it is rooted in compassion, consistency, and a willingness to support others in quiet but impactful ways. One of the most defining experiences that shaped this belief was my time volunteering through my church for Parent’s Day Out with One Hope, a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting foster children and their families. One Hope serves children who have experienced instability, trauma, and significant life transitions at a young age. Foster parents step into incredibly demanding roles, often with limited time to rest or reset. Parent’s Day Out was created to provide foster parents with a short but essential break while ensuring their children were cared for in a safe, nurturing, and structured environment. Through my church, I volunteered to assist during these events, working directly with foster children throughout the day. My responsibilities included supervising children, organizing activities, assisting with meals, and most importantly, offering consistent care and attention. I quickly learned that for these children, stability and patience mattered more than any planned activity. Many arrived reserved or hesitant, and it was my role to help create an environment where they felt comfortable, accepted, and free to simply be children. By engaging with them through games, conversation, and creative activities, I was able to help foster a sense of trust and belonging, even if only for a few hours. This experience opened my eyes to the power of presence. Something as simple as listening, encouraging, or offering reassurance made a visible difference in how the children responded throughout the day. At the same time, I saw the relief and gratitude from foster parents who were able to step away knowing their children were cared for with intention and kindness. It reinforced the importance of community-based service and how collective support can lighten the emotional load carried by families in challenging situations. Volunteering with One Hope strengthened my sense of responsibility to serve others, especially those who may not always have a voice or stable support system. It taught me empathy, adaptability, and the importance of meeting people where they are. These lessons continue to influence how I approach my education, my career goals, and my involvement in my community. This experience was not just a moment of service it was a reminder that real impact often comes from showing up consistently, offering care without expectation, and choosing to support others with compassion and purpose.

As a Black woman in the male-dominated electrical trade, I have built my career in spaces where I am often the only one who looks like me. Walking onto job sites as both a woman and a person of color has shaped my resilience, sharpened my skills, and reinforced my belief that representation in the trades matters. Earning my Master Electrician license in an industry where Black women are rarely seen in leadership roles is a reflection of persistence, discipline, and commitment to excellence. From the beginning of my career, I encountered skepticism and assumptions about my abilities before my work could speak for itself. I learned quickly that I had to be prepared, knowledgeable, and confident at all times. These challenges pushed me to master electrical theory, code compliance, and hands-on execution. Over time, my consistency earned respect, but more importantly, it built my self-trust. I did not advance in spite of my identity I advanced because my experiences demanded that I rise to a higher standard. Obtaining my Master Electrician license marked a significant milestone in my journey. It represents years of training, testing, and perseverance in an industry that has historically excluded women like me from positions of authority. Holding this license allows me to lead projects, make critical safety decisions, and set the standard for quality work on job sites. It also positions me as visible proof that Black women belong at the highest levels of the skilled trades. Being underrepresented has given me a deep sense of responsibility. I understand how powerful it can be for apprentices and young workers to see someone who looks like them in a leadership role. I strive to lead by example through professionalism, accountability, and a willingness to share knowledge. Mentorship and advocacy are central to my path forward, as I work to support others from underrepresented backgrounds who are interested in pursuing careers in the electrical trade. This scholarship would support my continued professional growth and leadership development within the industry. It would also reinforce the importance of investing in individuals who are not only technically skilled, but committed to expanding access and opportunity in the trades. My goal is to continue building a career that prioritizes excellence, safety, and inclusion while helping reshape what leadership in the electrical field looks like. My identity as a Black woman has profoundly shaped my path. It has taught me resilience in the face of doubt, confidence rooted in competence, and the importance of creating space for others. I am committed to using my experience and credentials to help build a future in the electrical industry where diversity is not an exception, but an expectation.

My pursuit of higher education has never followed a traditional or uncomplicated path. As a first-generation student, I entered college without a roadmap, no inherited knowledge of how higher education works, no safety net to fall back on, and significant responsibilities outside the classroom. Every step forward required self-advocacy, resilience, and the willingness to learn through trial and error. One of the greatest obstacles I faced was balancing education with financial and professional demands. I worked my way up in the electrical trade while pursuing my degree, often juggling long hours, coursework, and leadership responsibilities simultaneously. Returning to school as a working professional required discipline and sacrifice, but it was necessary. Education was not optional for me, it was a tool for stability, growth, and long-term impact. Another challenge was navigating male-dominated spaces, both in the trades and in academic environments tied to construction and business. As a woman, I’ve had to consistently prove my competence, challenge assumptions, and push past being underestimated. Those experiences were exhausting at times, but they sharpened my confidence and reinforced my commitment to excellence. I learned how to speak with authority, lead with credibility, and persist even when support was limited. Personal adversity also shaped my educational journey. Growing up in an unstable home meant learning independence early, but it also meant carrying emotional weight that didn’t disappear once I entered college. There were moments where doubt, burnout, and fear of failure felt overwhelming. What carried me through was purpose, the belief that education could help me build a life defined by intention rather than circumstance. I plan to use my education to give back to my community by bridging the gap between skilled trades, business leadership, and accessibility. As a Master Electrician and Project Designer studying Business Management, my goal is to improve how electrical work is taught, managed, and executed. I want to create systems that make complex information easier to understand for workers in the field, increase safety and efficiency, and open doors for individuals who may not see themselves represented in leadership roles. I am especially committed to mentoring women and first-generation individuals entering the trades. Representation matters. I want others to see that it’s possible to build a career rooted in skill, education, and leadership, regardless of background. By sharing knowledge, advocating for inclusive practices, and investing in workforce development, I hope to create opportunities that outlast my own career. Higher education has given me more than credentials. It has given me agency. I intend to use that agency to strengthen my community, raise industry standards, and help others build paths forward where none were clearly marked before.

Legacy, to me, is not about recognition or titles, it’s about what endures after hardship. It’s the values you carry forward, the barriers you dismantle, and the opportunities you create for those who come after you. Legacy is built quietly, through consistency, courage, and choice. My upbringing shaped my understanding of that kind of legacy. I was raised by a strong mother who was the primary and often the only provider for our family. She worked tirelessly to support us, showing up every day in a male-dominated field as a data technician. Watching her navigate spaces where she was often underestimated taught me what resilience looks like in real time. She didn’t wait for permission to belong. She earned her place through competence, grit, and integrity. My mother is my hero because she modeled strength without bitterness and responsibility without complaint. She carried the weight of our family while still making room for encouragement, stability, and love. Through her example, I learned that hard work is not just about survival, it’s about building something better, even when the odds are stacked against you. At the same time, my upbringing exposed me to cycles I knew I did not want to repeat. Growing up with instability and trauma taught me how easily pain can be passed down when it goes unaddressed. I’ve seen how silence, lack of support, and limited access to opportunity can shape lives in ways that feel inescapable. Choosing a different path required intention. It meant confronting the past, prioritizing education, and committing to growth rather than resignation. I plan to break the cycle by building a life rooted in stability, accountability, and purpose. Education has been a key part of that process, it gives me the tools to lead, to design systems that work better, and to create opportunities where they didn’t exist before. Professionally, I aim to challenge outdated norms in male-dominated industries by showing what capable, informed, and inclusive leadership looks like. At the same time, I plan to continue the cycle of strength my mother started. I carry forward her work ethic, her courage, and her refusal to be limited by expectation. The difference is that I get to build on her foundation with greater awareness, support, and opportunity. That is the legacy I strive for: honoring where I came from, breaking what no longer serves, and leaving behind a future defined by possibility rather than survival.

I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter because her career is a lesson in persistence, self-definition, and growth done on her own terms. She didn’t arrive overnight as a fully formed pop star, she built herself publicly, patiently, and with intention. Watching that evolution has been both inspiring and grounding for me. What I admire most about Sabrina is her refusal to stay boxed into other people’s expectations. Early in her career, she was often underestimated or dismissed as “just” a former Disney actress. Instead of fighting that narrative head-on, she outgrew it. Album by album, she sharpened her sound, her lyrics, and her confidence. Her more recent work feels unapologetically honest, playful, and self-aware, proof that growth doesn’t require erasing your past, only owning it. As a fan, I connect deeply with her lyricism. Sabrina has a way of writing about vulnerability, heartbreak, ambition, and self-worth without pretending to have it all figured out. Her music captures the in-between moments, the uncertainty, the self-doubt, the quiet confidence that comes from choosing yourself anyway. That honesty matters. It makes her music feel less like performance and more like conversation. Her career has impacted me because it mirrors a truth I’ve learned in my own life: success doesn’t come from being perfect or universally accepted. It comes from staying committed to your craft, even when recognition is slow or criticism is loud. Sabrina kept showing up, refining her voice, and trusting her instincts. That consistency is something I carry with me in my own journey, especially as someone who has had to work harder to be taken seriously in male-dominated spaces. I also admire how she balances confidence with humor. She doesn’t take herself too seriously, yet she takes her work very seriously. That balance is refreshing. It’s a reminder that strength can coexist with softness, and ambition doesn’t have to come at the cost of authenticity. Watching Sabrina Carpenter’s career unfold has reinforced the idea that growth is nonlinear. You’re allowed to evolve. You’re allowed to change your mind, your sound, and your direction. What matters is staying true to who you are becoming, not who you were expected to be. That’s why I’m a fan. Not just because of the music, but because of the example her career sets: keep learning, keep refining, and don’t rush the process. There’s power in patience and real confidence in becoming exactly who you’re meant to be, in your own time.

The Taylor Swift performance that moves me most is her All Too Well (10 Minute Version) performance at Saturday Night Live. As a fan, it felt like watching a full circle moment, not just for a song, but for a career built on persistence, reinvention, and refusing to be diminished. What made that performance unforgettable was how confident and grounded it felt. Taylor wasn’t chasing approval or trying to prove anything. She stood on that stage fully in control of her story, delivering a song that had lived with fans for years and giving it the space it deserved. Every lyric landed harder because of what it represented: growth, reflection, and the power of reclaiming your narrative on your own terms. As a longtime fan, I’ve watched Taylor evolve through constant public scrutiny, industry pressure, and the expectation to constantly reinvent herself while staying recognizable. That performance felt like a quiet triumph. It showed that success doesn’t mean erasing the past it means honoring it. She took something deeply personal, something that once defined a chapter of her life, and transformed it into art that felt stronger, wiser, and unapologetically hers. The emotional weight of the performance came from its restraint. There was no spectacle, no distraction just storytelling. It reminded me why fans connect to her music so deeply. Taylor has always made listeners feel seen, and in that moment, it felt like she was trusting us with the truth rather than performing for applause. That honesty is what keeps people invested, album after album. In the context of The Life of A Showgirl, that performance feels especially meaningful. It reflects the reality behind life in the spotlight, the endurance it takes to stay relevant, authentic, and emotionally open over time. Being a “showgirl” isn’t just about the performance itself; it’s about showing up again and again, even when the pressure is intense and the audience is watching closely. As a fan, I found that performance inspiring because it showed that longevity comes from staying true to yourself, even as you evolve. It reinforced why Taylor Swift’s career continues to resonate: she grows, she reflects, and she brings her audience along with her. That’s why this performance stands out to me. It wasn’t just memorable, it was meaningful. It captured the heart of what makes Taylor Swift’s artistry so powerful: storytelling rooted in honesty, strength earned through experience, and the courage to own every chapter of the journey.

Being a first-generation student means building a future without a blueprint. College was not a familiar path in my family, it was something I had to figure out step by step, often without guidance. What I lacked in inherited knowledge, I made up for in grit, curiosity, and determination. Every class I pass and every credential I earn represents more than personal achievement; it represents progress for my family and proof that new paths are possible. I am a Business Management major, a Master Electrician, and a Project Designer roles I’ve earned through persistence in an industry that wasn’t designed with women in mind. Coming up in the electrical trade as a woman meant constantly having to prove my competence, speak louder to be heard, and work harder to be taken seriously. I faced skepticism, isolation, and moments where quitting felt easier than pushing forward. Instead, I chose resilience. I built technical expertise, leadership skills, and a thick skin; tools that now fuel my ambition rather than limit it. What drives me is a clear purpose: I want to change the world of electrical installation. I believe the industry can be smarter, safer, more inclusive, and more efficient. By combining hands-on trade experience with business education, I aim to bridge the gap between fieldwork and leadership, to design systems, processes, and projects that empower workers and raise the standard of the trade as a whole. As a first-generation student, financial pressure has always been part of the journey. This scholarship would ease that burden and allow me to focus fully on my education and professional growth. It would also directly support a milestone I’m deeply excited about: studying abroad in Sweden next semester. Sweden’s approach to design, sustainability, and innovation inspires me, and the opportunity to learn in a global context would expand my perspective and sharpen my vision for the future. I don’t pursue education for recognition or perfection. I pursue it because I know what’s possible when determination meets opportunity. This scholarship would not only support my academic goals, it would help propel a career rooted in impact, leadership, and lasting change.

The passing of my cousin’s son, Maddox James, was one of the most difficult obstacles I have faced, profoundly affecting my emotional strength, focus, and perseverance. Maddox was born on May 4th, 2019, and from the very beginning, he was a fighter. At just seven weeks old, he was rushed by helicopter after suffering cardiac arrest. Doctors diagnosed him with rare heart conditions Pulmonary Stenosis and Ventricular Septal Defect and gave his mother only a one percent chance that he would survive. Against all odds, Maddox fought for nearly seven years, giving our family priceless memories filled with joy, laughter, and hope. Living through Maddox’s medical journey exposed me to constant uncertainty and emotional strain. Watching a child endure repeated hospital visits, procedures, and setbacks was heartbreaking, yet Maddox’s resilience was inspiring. He showed strength far beyond his years, forming bonds with his medical staff, filling rooms with giggles, and finding happiness in simple things like music from his iPad and his favorite shows. His ability to experience joy despite his circumstances changed the way I viewed hardship. When Maddox went into cardiac arrest on December 7th and passed away, the loss was devastating. Grief became an obstacle that affected every aspect of my life. I struggled to concentrate, stay motivated, and emotionally process how someone who fought so hard could be taken so soon. This was not an obstacle I could overcome quickly or easily. It required me to develop emotional resilience, patience, and the ability to keep moving forward even when I felt overwhelmed. One of the hardest parts of this experience was witnessing my cousin grieve the loss of her child. Seeing a parent endure that level of pain challenged me in ways I had never experienced. I felt a strong responsibility to be supportive while navigating my own grief, which required strength, maturity, and self-discipline. Through this process, I learned how to manage emotional adversity while continuing to meet my academic and personal responsibilities. Despite the pain, Maddox’s life became a source of motivation. His determination to fight for more time inspired me to approach my own challenges with greater resolve. Whenever I felt discouraged, I reminded myself of his courage and his ability to find happiness even during the hardest moments. His legacy pushed me to remain focused on my goals and to value perseverance, compassion, and purpose. Maddox will always be our Iron Man watching over us and reminding us to live with strength and heart. His life and passing shaped me profoundly, turning grief into growth and loss into motivation. Overcoming this obstacle strengthened my character and reinforced my commitment to pursuing my education with resilience and gratitude. Receiving this scholarship would not only support my academic journey but also honor the perseverance and strength that Maddox showed us all.

“And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: -Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads.” -Allegory of the Cave Plato’s Allegory of the Cave is often interpreted as a simple contrast between ignorance and knowledge, but such a reading understates its moral and political depth. At its core, the allegory is not about information alone, it is about the human attachment to illusion and the ethical burden imposed by truth. Plato presents ignorance as a condition that people become emotionally invested in, and enlightenment as an experience that disrupts identity, security, and social belonging. Education, in this view, is not additive but transformative, demanding the reorientation of the soul and the courage to endure alienation. The prisoners in the cave are not described as foolish or malicious; they are described as habituated. Their chains do not merely restrict physical movement but symbolize psychological dependence on a narrow framework of meaning. Plato’s emphasis on childhood conditioning is crucial: ignorance is not chosen but inherited, normalized, and reinforced through repetition. The shadows on the wall are not presented as lies but as the only reality the prisoners have ever known. This suggests that error persists not because truth is inaccessible, but because familiarity exerts a powerful emotional grip on the human mind. Plato’s deeper claim is that perception alone cannot yield truth. The shadows are accurate representations of something real, yet they remain fundamentally misleading. This distinction allows Plato to argue that societies can function efficiently while being profoundly mistaken about what truly matters. The prisoners can name the shadows, predict their movement, and build a shared language around them. In doing so, Plato exposes a dangerous possibility: social consensus can form around false foundations without anyone recognizing the error. Truth, therefore, is not democratic in origin, even if it must eventually serve the collective good. When one prisoner is freed, Plato does not portray the experience as liberating in a pleasurable sense. Instead, the freed individual is confused, resistant, and in pain. This discomfort reveals Plato’s belief that ignorance is psychologically comforting, while truth is destabilizing. The ascent out of the cave is not a reward but a trial, one that demands the unlearning of deeply ingrained assumptions. Education, then, is not the transmission of facts but the restructuring of desire, what the soul finds convincing, meaningful, and worthy of pursuit. Plato’s metaphor of light is especially significant. Light does not merely illuminate objects; it forces the observer to adjust. The pain of looking at the sun represents the strain of encountering truths that challenge one’s previous worldview. Importantly, Plato suggests that truth cannot be grasped all at once. The freed prisoner must gradually acclimate, indicating that wisdom develops through disciplined exposure rather than sudden revelation. This process underscores Plato’s belief that intellectual growth is inseparable from moral endurance. The most radical aspect of the allegory emerges when the enlightened individual returns to the cave. Plato does not describe this return as triumphant. Instead, the freed prisoner appears clumsy, ridiculed, and even threatened. This reaction reveals Plato’s insight into social resistance to truth. Those still chained interpret the returned prisoner’s disorientation as evidence that leaving the cave is harmful. In this moment, Plato exposes how societies often punish those who challenge established norms, especially when those challenges undermine shared sources of meaning and authority. This return is central to Plato’s ethical vision. Knowledge, in his view, is not a private possession but a public responsibility. The philosopher does not ascend for personal fulfillment but is morally obligated to govern, teach, and serve even at personal cost. Plato thus reframes leadership as sacrifice rather than privilege. True rulers are not those who desire power but those who understand reality well enough to act justly within it. Plato’s allegory also functions as a critique of political systems that prioritize appearance over truth. The prisoners reward those who best interpret the shadows, mirroring societies that elevate rhetoricians, entertainers, or demagogues over genuine thinkers. By doing so, Plato warns that without philosophical grounding, power will inevitably gravitate toward illusion rather than wisdom. Justice, therefore, depends not only on laws but on the intellectual and moral formation of those who interpret them. Ultimately, the Allegory of the Cave argues that enlightenment is inseparable from obligation. To see clearly is to become responsible not only for oneself but for others who may resist, misunderstand, or even hate the truth. Plato’s underlying message is uncompromising: a society cannot be just unless it is guided by those willing to endure discomfort, rejection, and sacrifice in pursuit of what is real. In this way, Plato’s allegory transcends its historical context. It challenges readers to examine their own assumptions, to question whether comfort has replaced truth, and to consider whether knowledge carries a duty that extends beyond personal advancement. The cave is not merely a place of ignorance; it is a test of whether human beings value truth enough to bear its cost.

My name is Mercedes, and I am a dedicated electrician pursuing a degree in Business Management with a strong interest in sustainability, leadership, and global workforce innovation. I come from a working class background where hard work, reliability, and resilience were not just values but necessities. Entering the electrical trade gave me firsthand exposure to the backbone of modern infrastructure and the importance of skilled labor in shaping safe, efficient, and sustainable communities. Working in the field has given me more than technical expertise it has shown me the gaps between management decisions and onsite realities. I have seen how inefficient planning, poor communication, and lack of sustainable practices can negatively impact productivity, safety, and morale. These experiences sparked my desire to pursue a business degree so I can bridge the gap between leadership and labor, ensuring that decisions are informed by both operational knowledge and strategic insight. My chosen degree program in Business Management aligns perfectly with my career goals. I am particularly interested in strategic workforce solutions, prefabrication, and sustainable business practices within the construction and electrical industries. I believe that effective leadership is not only about profitability but also about investing in people, innovation, and long-term environmental responsibility. Studying business allows me to develop the financial, managerial, and organizational skills necessary to lead impactful change within my industry. One of my long-term academic goals is to study abroad, particularly in Sweden, where sustainability, workforce efficiency, and innovative construction practices are deeply integrated into business and infrastructure planning. Exposure to international models of sustainability would allow me to bring fresh perspectives and proven strategies back to the United States. I aspire to apply these global insights within my company and industry, helping implement more efficient scheduling systems, prefabrication methods, and environmentally conscious operations. Professionally, my long term aspiration is to move into leadership within the construction and electrical sector, where I can influence policy, operations, and company culture. I aim to contribute to building a workforce that is skilled, supported, and future focused. By combining my hands on trade experience with formal business education, I plan to advocate for smarter project planning, sustainable growth, and leadership that values both people and performance. Receiving this scholarship would significantly support my educational journey by easing the financial burden of tuition and allowing me to focus fully on academic excellence and professional development. More importantly, it would be an investment in a future leader who is committed to strengthening the construction industry through innovation, sustainability, and ethical management. I am motivated, disciplined, and deeply committed to using my education to create meaningful impact. This degree is not just a personal achievement, it is a step toward contributing lasting value to my industry and community.

If I had to give one piece of advice to another first-generation student, it would be this: don’t let where you came from limit where you’re going, you have the power to create your own legacy. Being a first-generation student often means stepping into spaces that no one in your family has entered before. It can feel intimidating, as though the weight of history is on your shoulders, and sometimes, you may feel like you’re carrying not only your own dreams but also the hopes of everyone who came before you. That pressure can make it easy to fall into doubt and to let your background define you. But the truth is, your past does not determine your future; it simply prepares you to write a story no one else can. Many of us come from families that have worked hard, sacrificed, and built their lives out of resilience. While those roots are important, they don’t have to be chains. You are not confined to repeating the struggles or limitations that may have shaped the generations before you. Instead, you can use their strength as fuel. Being first-generation means you have an opportunity to take all of that sacrifice and turn it into something bigger. You get to build doors where there weren’t any and walk through them with pride. Creating your own legacy doesn’t mean forgetting where you come from, it means honoring it by not letting it hold you back. Maybe your family didn’t go to college, maybe they didn’t have the resources or opportunities you do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t break that cycle. Every paper you write, every late night of studying, every milestone you reach is proof that your story can look different. And by creating that difference, you’re not just opening doors for yourself, you’re inspiring others who will come after you, whether that’s your siblings, your cousins, or your own children someday. There will always be moments when you feel out of place, when you question whether you belong, or when you think your background makes you “less than.” In those moments, remember this: you are not less, you are more. You are the product of perseverance, of dreams that might not have been spoken aloud but were deeply felt. You are capable of shaping a future that no one else in your family could have imagined, and that’s the beauty of being first-generation. So, if I could tell another first-generation student just one thing, it would be this: your past is your foundation, not your finish line. Don’t let where you came from stop you from going where you want to go. Instead, let it remind you that you have the strength to build something new, to create your own legacy, and to stand as proof that the story can always be rewritten.