When I introduce myself, I say my name is Miechelle Petty, but most people know me as Thailand. That distinction matters because I carry both names with pride—one given by my mother at birth, the other chosen as a symbol of growth and becoming. Like many first-generation students, I've learned to build bridges between where I come from and where I want to go. These bridges form the foundation of my dream to pursue a career in law. As the first in my family to attend college, I've realized that navigating education, financial aid, and opportunity isn't just about determination—it's about access that isn't shared equally. During my first attempt at higher education, I had to relinquish my dreams because I lacked guidance and resources to continue. That setback was painful but revealed my community's and my resilience. We show obstacles can be overcome by sharing knowledge, supporting each other, and finding new paths. These lessons fueled my decision to return to school and pursue law with even greater determination. I want to become an attorney who practices law and fights for fair access to justice so that someone's zip code, background, or financial standing doesn't decide whether they are heard. Catrina Celestine Aquilino's legacy speaks to me deeply. She believed that "justice should be accessible," and her work proved it. Like her, I am committed to using my education for personal success and to make a collective impact. My long-term goal is to work in public interest law, focusing on issues that disproportionately affect marginalized communities—housing insecurity, healthcare access, and civil rights. I want to stand with those whose voices are often silenced, ensuring they are genuinely respected and represented. I plan to make a positive impact by blending legal advocacy with community-based education. Law shouldn't be a language only attorneys understand. I hope to empower individuals to advocate for themselves through workshops and resources that simplify complex legal processes. At the same time, I want to ensure they can access professional legal support when needed. This dual approach—combining direct service with systemic advocacy—will help break down barriers that have persisted for generations. As a Bold.org member, I know the power of scholarships isn't just about easing financial burdens; it's also a powerful affirmation that someone believes in your vision. This award would support my journey through law school, but it also carries a deeper meaning. It connects me to the values Catrina embodied—her global outlook and compassion remind me that law is about more than statutes and procedures; it's about humanity. Whether working in a local courthouse or advocating for policy change, I want to honor her by approaching every case with empathy and determination. As a first-generation student, I carry the dreams of those before me and pave the way for those who follow. My family's sacrifices motivate me to persevere despite overwhelming challenges. With this scholarship, I will continue my education and strengthen my ability to give back—expanding my circle, just as Catrina once did. Winning this scholarship would mean more than financial support; it would validate my journey and commitment to creating change. It would remind me that I am not alone in this pursuit—that some believe in my potential and the power of justice. As I move forward, I carry my family's sacrifices, my community's resilience, and Catrina's legacy. My goal is to honor all of them by dedicating my life to making justice accessible for everyone, especially those whose voices are often unheard. With your support, I can turn that vision into reality—helping shape a future where justice truly includes us all.

Got it — thank you for clarifying! 🙏 That detail about Judge **Francis Viamontes** and the ATF agents physically taking you to a mental health professional is so powerful, because it shows how others stepped in at your breaking point and helped you access care. That moment really anchors your turning point. Here’s the **fully corrected and polished essay draft** with that detail updated: --- **Essay Draft — Ethel Hayes Destigmatization of Mental Health Scholarship** I learned early that mental health wasn’t something people around me spoke openly about. My mother has lived with depression for most of my life, and though I didn’t have the words for it as a child, I could feel the weight in our home. In elementary school, I began seeing a therapist myself. At first, I didn’t understand why I was there—but I realize now that those early sessions planted a seed: asking for help isn’t weakness, it’s survival. That lesson came back to me years later in the hardest chapter of my life. After losing my eye in an attack, I had to face not just physical pain but the emotional toll of reliving the trauma in court. Testifying against my attacker was one of the hardest moments of my life. I remember the court reporter and even the judge asking me to slow down because my words tumbled out too quickly—I was frustrated, shaking, trying to hold it together. My mother’s audible sobs filled the pews behind my attacker, and I could feel her grief pressing against my own. What made it worse was that I had met my attacker on more than one occasion, so his attorney’s choice to argue “mistaken identity” cut deeper than I can describe. Sitting just a few feet from him and hearing that defense nearly broke me. What saved me in that season wasn’t toughness, it was finally reaching out. One day, I broke down and admitted I couldn’t carry the weight alone. The AUSA at the time, now Judge Francis Viamontes, and the ATF agents who worked my case recognized what I couldn’t say out loud. They didn’t just encourage me to get help, they took me to a mental health professional. That step changed everything. I was prescribed a low dose of Lexapro and began therapy again. That combination—medicine, counseling, and faith—helped me begin piecing myself back together. Recovery wasn’t fast or simple. But over time, I noticed changes. I began painting again. I became a parent. I returned to college. Each of those steps felt like reclaiming pieces of myself that trauma had tried to steal. And along the way, I learned that depression doesn’t define me—how I respond to it does. Today I manage my own mental health with prayer, focus, and daily practices that keep me grounded. I don’t pretend the shadows aren’t there, but I no longer let them consume me. Because of what I’ve been through, I speak differently about mental health now. I don’t hide it. If someone asks why I missed class or seemed distant, I tell them the truth: I was struggling, but I’m working through it. And when friends or classmates confide in me about their own battles, I listen without judgment. Sometimes I share resources, other times I just sit with them. I’ve learned the biggest gift we can give is presence. These experiences have shaped my academic and career goals as well. As a pre-law student, I want to work in public policy, especially around access to mental health resources. I know too well how stigma, cost, and fear keep people—especially in marginalized communities—from seeking help. My vision is to make care more accessible and to create spaces where asking for help is seen as a sign of strength, not shame. If I am awarded the Ethel Hayes Destigmatization of Mental Health Scholarship, I will carry forward Ethel’s legacy by continuing to speak openly about mental health and by using my education to advocate for systemic change. For me, destigmatizing mental health is personal. It’s my mother. It’s me. It’s the people who think they have to carry it all alone. And it’s proof that even after the hardest moments, there is still a way forward—if we have the courage to reach for it.

Last year in my business class, our professor split us into groups for a “bike marketplace” simulation. The goal was to create and market a fictional bicycle brand, manage supply and pricing, and compete for the best results. On paper, it sounded exciting. In reality, our group was two meetings away from falling apart. From the start, two team members had very different visions. One wanted to position our bikes as a premium, high-margin product. The other insisted we should undercut competitors and go for market share. Every discussion became a tug-of-war—voices got louder, meetings got shorter, and our deadlines got closer. I could see where this was headed, and it wasn’t toward winning or a passing grade. I decided to step in—not as the “boss” of the group, but as someone willing to listen. At our next meeting, I asked if we could press pause on debating numbers and talk about what each person truly wanted for the project. It turned out the “premium” advocate cared about building a strong brand reputation, while the “low price” advocate wanted to maximize visibility and reach as many customers as possible. Both goals were valid and didn’t have to be mutually exclusive. I suggested we try a hybrid approach: launch two product lines. One would be a high-end model with special features for brand prestige, and the other would be a budget-friendly option to capture market share. Once we agreed on this framework, the energy in the group shifted. People started contributing instead of defending. By the end of the simulation, not only had we met our profit goals, but our group also scored top marks for creativity in market strategy. Even better, the two students who had been ready to quit on each other were cracking jokes while reviewing our final numbers. That project reminded me of what I’ve learned through volunteering—whether helping at community events, working on local outreach campaigns, or assisting with civic engagement programs—most disagreements aren’t really about what people want. They’re about how to get there. When people feel heard and respected, solutions become possible. As a pre-law student with an undergraduate certificate in paralegal studies, I’m preparing for a career in public policy and legislative affairs. My long-term goal is to work at the federal level, where I can help craft policies that bridge divides and ensure that all voices—especially those often left out—are part of the conversation. If awarded the Cooper Congress Scholarship, I’ll continue building the skills to turn tense debates into productive collaborations. Because if a group of stressed-out students can turn a brewing conflict into an award-winning project, I believe there’s hope for the bigger, more complex conversations that shape our nation’s future.

If I could erase one thing from the world, it would be the stigma surrounding being different—especially when that difference is visible, vulnerable, or misunderstood. I’d erase the shame that wraps around people when they don’t fit someone else’s idea of “normal.” Because stigma doesn’t just hurt feelings—it silences stories, limits opportunities, and, too often, costs lives. As a Black transgender man, I’ve felt that stigma in ways that are hard to describe but impossible to forget. I’ve felt it in stares when I walk into a bathroom. I’ve heard it in the pause before someone decides whether to call me “sir” or “ma’am.” I’ve seen it in the eyes of professionals who question my legitimacy—as a parent, student, and even person. But I’ve also felt the power of what happens when that stigma is erased. When I adopted my son—who came into my care at four months old through Florida’s dependency court system—I did it as an openly trans man. The day the judge banged the gavel and finalized our adoption, I felt something shift. I wasn’t just a statistic or a case file or a label. I was a dad. I was trusted. I belonged. That moment wasn’t just legal—it was transformative. That’s why I want to be a lawyer. Because I believe the law should protect, not punish, difference. It should be a tool for liberation, not judgment. But before we can change laws, we have to change minds. And that starts by erasing stigma. I’m working toward my degree with a 3.8 GPA while raising my son and preparing for law school. I juggle full-time parenting, coursework, and advocacy because I believe in the future I’m fighting for—not just for myself, but for every kid who’s ever been told they’re “too much” or “not enough” to belong. Erasing stigma means making space—for stories, second chances, systems that reflect the complexity of who we are. It means no longer having to explain your existence before you’re allowed to be safe. It means showing up fully and being seen. This scholarship would help me continue my education—it would help me amplify a message that matters: that people who are different are not less than. We are valuable. We are worthy. We are necessary. TJ Crowson once challenged every idea, stood up for what was right, and used his legal education to empower others. I want to do the same—starting by erasing the invisible barriers that keep people from being seen for who they are. Because the truth is, when stigma disappears, possibility takes its place.

One legal issue that fundamentally shifted how I view the world—and what I want my role in it to be—is the treatment of transgender individuals within the criminal justice system. It's not one single case, but rather a pattern of injustice that repeats itself across courtrooms, jails, and detention centers in this country. As a Black transgender man and a parent, I can't separate my identity from what I've learned—and what I've lived. I first became aware of the extent of this injustice when reading about the case of Ashley Diamond, a Black trans woman incarcerated in Georgia who had to sue the state twice for subjecting her to abuse and denying her access to necessary healthcare. Her story forced me to reckon with a harsh truth: our legal system is not built to protect everyone equally, especially not people like me. I realized then that justice isn't just about laws on the books—it's about who gets their humanity recognized by the people enforcing those laws. That realization didn't make me lose faith in the system; it made me want to become someone who can change it. When I adopted my younger brother—now my legally recognized son—I promised myself I'd be the person I needed growing up. That promise led me back to school, toward a law degree, and eventually into criminal justice reform. I want to be the kind of lawyer who doesn't just win cases but helps redefine what justice looks like in practice. I want to help make courtrooms safer, more accountable spaces for marginalized people. And like TJ Crowson, I wouldn't be on this path without financial aid. I'm a full-time undergraduate student with a 3.8 GPA, working while parenting and preparing for law school. Scholarships like this one are more than just financial support—they signal that someone out there believes in me and the change I want to make. That belief matters. Legal issues like the incarceration of trans people and the lack of meaningful reform don't just live in textbooks—they live in our lives. And that's what this scholarship would help me do: turn what I've lived through into a career where I can fight back, speak up, and help others feel seen and heard in systems that often ignore them. This isn't just about law school—it's about legacy. It's about carrying forward the kind of work TJ Crowson believed in: making education, justice, and hope possible for people who were never supposed to access them. Thank you for considering me.

I'm a Black trans man, father, survivor, and future criminal justice reform attorney. I'm also a full-time undergraduate student, maintaining a 3.8 GPA, raising my adopted son, and working daily to turn my pain into power—not just for myself, but for others whom broken systems have left behind. When I read about Kalia's life, I saw reflections of the same values that guide mine: discipline, service, excellence, and joy. She lived fully, led with kindness, and left an impact that continues after her passing. That's the kind of legacy I want to build, and it's an honor to apply for a scholarship that carries her name. In 2017, I survived a violent crime that left me permanently blind in one eye. The trauma didn't just impact my body—it pulled me into a long fight with PTSD and depression. But I chose to show up. I sought therapy. I returned to school. I earned my Paralegal Certificate and enrolled in honors-level legal courses while balancing single parenthood and full-time study. I refuse to let what I've survived define me—I'm using it to fuel my future. In 2018, my younger paternal sibling, Maxwell, was born drug-exposed and placed into foster care. We don't share the same mother—my mother never used drugs and worked tirelessly to raise my older brother and me in our father's absence. When Maxwell entered the system, I fought to have him placed with me through a relative caregiver arrangement. After three months in foster care, the court approved it. About a year later, once the juvenile dependency courts terminated our father's and Maxwell's mother's parental rights, I legally adopted him. Maxwell is mildly autistic and absolutely brilliant. He calls me Dad, and raising him has been one of my greatest privileges. Through this process, I saw firsthand how complex and impersonal our child welfare systems can be—especially for children with complex needs. That experience sharpened my purpose and pushed me to pursue legal advocacy for families like mine. That's why I'm studying legal studies and preparing for law school. I want to specialize in criminal justice reform and advocate for communities who've been neglected, mislabeled, or pushed aside—especially Black and LGBTQ+ individuals, families navigating the child welfare system, and people impacted by trauma and poverty. I've volunteered at legal clinics, supported pro se litigants in court, and co-founded a nonprofit to uplift marginalized voices in South Florida. Outside of academics and advocacy, I've always stayed active. I ran track in high school and continued training independently to remain grounded during recovery. Movement helped me rebuild both physically and emotionally. That discipline—and the joy of pushing my body—still fuels my routine today. This scholarship would make a real difference in my life. As a student-parent, I balance tuition, textbooks, and basic needs. I've come this far on determination and grit. Financial support like this would allow me to focus more fully on my studies and community work. It would take weight off my shoulders and help me keep building toward my dream: becoming an attorney who leads with compassion and conviction. I'm not just working toward a degree—I'm working toward impact. Like Kalia, I believe in showing up with everything I've got, in every space I enter. I want my life's work to reflect the same joy, purpose, and strength she carried. I want to leave a legacy—not just for my son, but for the countless others whose voices still go unheard. Thank you for considering me. I hope to carry forward Kalia's legacy by living fully, loving deeply, laughing often, always learning—and leading toward a more just world.

Real Justice Requires Real Reform — and I'm Not Waiting to Be Invited In One of the biggest issues in the criminal justice system today is its failure to protect vulnerable people. As an unapologetically Black trans man and a survivor of a violent federal crime, I've lived that failure. This system often refuses to see the whole picture—how identity, trauma, and justice collide. I plan to change that. I won't speak for the underrepresented. I'll make sure they're heard, respected, and defended. On December 12, 2017, I survived a brutal crime that left me permanently blind and ultimately with just one eye. The federal case records entitled the United States v. Deandre Darryl Smith show up and have been cited in many cases that followed, but those papers don't reflect what actually happened, nor the aftermath. I spent years battling PTSD, depression, and adjusting to life with acquired monocular vision. I was misgendered, ignored, and retraumatized by a system that cares more about paperwork than people. I couldn't wait for someone to save me. I did the work. I fought to reclaim my life—and I'm still fighting. What's broken isn't just individual cases—it's the culture. Survivors are often forced to choose between being believed and being seen. If you're poor, a member of the LGBTQ plus community, Black, disabled, have special needs —or any mix of those above—you're more likely to be punished or ignored than protected. That's not justice. That's abandonment. I'm determined to push back—through legal advocacy, direct action, and representation in rooms where people like me have never been welcomed. That's why I went back to school, pushed myself to do more than keep up, earned my Paralegal Certificate, and took on honors-level legal studies, while raising my paternal sibling, who is now my son, continuing my healing, and maintaining a 3.8 GPA. I've supported attorneys by drafting pleadings, prepping discovery, and working on probate and family law cases. But I'm not in this just for the technical skills. I'm here because this system is crushing real people. And I want to stand beside them—not just with knowledge, but with lived experience. My little brother is a massive part of this story. I was able to get him placed in my care in 2019, and adopt him less than a year later when the state took custody of him shortly after his birth due to prenatal exposure to illegal substances. He's my superhero, mildly autistic, sharp, hilarious, and calls me "Dad" all day! He reminds me why this work matters! Navigating a full course load, IEP meetings, early intervention services, and public school bureaucracy isn't easy! It has shown me firsthand how systems fail families, too. I haven't just learned policy—I lived it. And I keep showing up. His autism isn't a limitation; it's his superpower. Parenting him makes me a better advocate and a stronger future lawyer. Along the way, I've volunteered at community legal clinics, helped pro se litigants in family court, and worked closely with low-income clients trying to access basic services. I also co-founded a nonprofit that lifts marginalized voices—and I regularly use my platform to speak on issues like equity, trauma, gender identity, and legal access. I don't just care about change. I'm already creating it. I plan to attend law school and specialize in criminal justice reform. I'm especially drawn to wrongful conviction work and policy advocacy. But I also want to mentor trans youth—especially those who don't think a courtroom is a place where someone like them belongs. I want to stand up in court one day and say," Your Honor, my client matters, " and have that truth backed by my legal skills and my lived reality. I know what it means to be dismissed, mislabeled, and underestimated. But I also know how to rise—and keep growing. I don't approach this work as an outsider looking in—I'm already in it. I've already paid the price. And I'm not here to ask permission. I'm here to lead. Justice doesn't live in philosophical ideals or textbooks. It is a virtue that lives in how we treat people and fight for those no one else shows up for. My life, my story, and my purpose all lead to this: I'm not just preparing for a career in criminal justice. I'm preparing to help rebuild it—from the inside out. Because justice shouldn't be a privilege, it should be a promise. And I'm here to make sure it finally is.

When survival becomes purpose, wellness becomes power. Eight years ago, I couldn’t have imagined where I’d be today. On December 12, 2017, I survived a violent crime that left me permanently blind in one eye. The court documents from United States v. Deandre Darryl Smith refer to me by my maiden name, Brown—but I’ve since reclaimed my life as a proud Black transgender man, father, and survivor. In the aftermath, I spiraled into depression and PTSD. Fear controlled everything. I isolated myself, stopped trusting people, and lost sight of who I was. But one day, I decided: I refused to be defined by what happened to me. I sought therapy, created safe routines, and made my mental health a daily priority. That choice saved my life. Returning to college became part of my healing. I pursued my Paralegal Certificate, pushed myself through honors-level courses, and earned a Presidential Scholarship. I did all this while navigating the emotional weight of trauma—but I didn’t let it stop me. I rebuilt my life with intention, piece by piece. Exactly one year later, I found a new source of strength. On December 12, 2018, my biological father had another child, born drug-exposed and immediately placed into foster care. I didn’t hesitate. I fought for custody and won. I adopted him and became “Dad” in every way that matters. His autism isn’t something I work around—it’s his superpower. He sees the world through a brilliant, unique lens, thriving in a general education classroom with joy and resilience that inspires me daily. Fatherhood redefined everything. It deepened my commitment to staying well. I couldn’t just survive—I had to be present, patient, and whole for my son. Prioritizing my emotional and mental health became nonnegotiable. I set boundaries. I sought community. I continued therapy. I ensured my wellness wasn’t just part of my life—it was the foundation of it. Since then, I’ve kept that promise to myself. I’ve maintained a high GPA, remained active in my community, and positioned myself to pursue law school. My goal is to advocate for families like mine—those impacted by trauma, systemic failures, and complex identities. I want to use my experience, legal education, and voice to fight for justice and representation. What I’ve learned is simple but powerful: wellness is a daily act of rebellion in a world that often expects us to cope and move on. But I don’t just cope—I grow, push forward, and lead. Choosing myself—my healing, my future, my identity—daily is how I stay grounded and focused on what matters. This scholarship recognizes exactly that kind of strength. I don’t need perfection. I’ve built power out of pain, purpose out of struggle, and pride out of survival. I’ve turned my darkest moment into the reason I rise every morning—to show my son what perseverance looks like, and to remind others that healing isn’t just possible—it’s transformative. My scars don’t define me. They remind me I’ve overcome, rebuilt, and refused to give up. I’m not just preparing for the future—I’m creating it. For myself, my son, and every person who needs to see what resilience looks like.

As Vice President of Visibility365, I work to positively impact the world by striving to provide brave and safe spaces for Black transgender, gender nonconforming, and non-binary individuals and youth to preserve, create, share, explore, and express their stories. Visibility365 was founded in Florida and is a collective dedicated to showcasing the triumphs of Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) innovators, disruptors, and change agents within the trans and gender nonconforming (TGNC) community. Our mission is to shed light on the critical issues marginalized individuals face while fostering connections among youth, individuals, communities, and allies. By offering fresh, insightful content and creative programming, we aim to enhance internal and external community engagement and empower the BIPOC TGNC community to combat the negative narrative perpetuated by unauthorized storytellers. Through our efforts, we strive to break the cycle of poverty and marginalization by empowering individuals with the knowledge, inspiration, and tools to create meaningful change in their lives and communities. Thus driving a societal shift that builds empathy, champions rights, and promotes equality, inclusion, and access for the BIPOC TGNC community. At the beginning of 2024, Florida became the political hotbed and ground zero for anti-trans and anti-black legislation after eleven anti-trans bills impacted several areas, including employment, civil rights, incarceration, healthcare, and child abuse, were passed by the current governor and his supporters, after successfully carrying out a strategic plan to strip certain medical professionals from providing life-saving, gender-affirming care for youth and consequently affecting adults. Schools, which were once safe havens for youth to confide in guidance counselors, teachers, and other trusted staff, have shifted into “Don’t tell” institutions. Support no longer exists for in-school TLGBQ+ student-led organizations and youth are left to figure out how to support themselves without resources. Our state has also removed diversity, equity, and inclusion programs in Higher Education, banned sex education in all public schools, banned critical race theory, and banned more books than any other state in their extreme right-wing “Stop Woke” brigade. Through my efforts at Visibility365 and the work of many other trans organizations who are stepping outside of their silos and beginning to understand the importance of collaboration. Our community is resilient, and we are not only calling out the LGBT community but calling them in to be our accomplices while having conversations about how these political attacks affect all of us as we are all connected. Through my work efforts at Visibility365, I aim to satisfy the hunger for uplifting messages and manifestations while amplifying and preserving the voices of those yearning to express their authentic selves. Our very first collaboration was with UWC, based out of California. When we teamed up to feature black transgender individuals on social media daily during black history month, it was through this collaboration that Visibility365 was birthed. Our future plan includes strategizing, marketing and social media strategy, building a budget for equipment and software, and networking. We have collaborations lined up with local black-led trans and LGBQ+ organizations, and we are also building our email and contact list.

1.) As a black, gender-expansive trans-man, I am often faced with significant and multifaceted barriers to educational support and access. I've encountered professors who did not understand or accept gender-expansive identities, instructors with inadequate training on gender diversity, gender expression, and how to create an inclusive environment for all students, as well as misgendering and gendered assumptions at the hands of instructors, peers, and administration. I’ve even faced discrimination and harassment from peers, teachers, and administrators, which created a hostile learning environment. Unfortunately, some of these experiences have temporarily impacted my academic performance and mental health. Others have even managed to affect my overall well-being because the extreme lack of support and acceptance at times expands my stress, anxiety, and depression just that much. To this day, I face bureaucratic obstacles with my name and pronouns on official records, ID cards, or other documents, and the lack of inclusive policies in the educational system offers no protection for my rights and well-being, which leaves me vulnerable to intolerance, bigotry, and discrimination in the future. There have also been times when I was tokenized and stereotyped as an example of "diversity" rather than being seen as the unique individual I am with individual needs. 2.) My major is Pre-Law, and my educational goal is to earn a juris doctorate. 3.) My career goal is to sit for the Florida Bar Exam and become a Public Interest Attorney who collaborates with non-profit organizations, government agencies, or advocacy groups focused on civil rights and public policy regarding the LGBTQ community. 4.) To address these barriers and positively impact the LGBTQ community, after completing my education, I will continue my efforts as the vice president of Visibility365, a non-profit organization working to positively impact the world by striving to provide brave and safe spaces for Black transgender, gender nonconforming, and non-binary individuals and youth to preserve, create, share, explore, and express their stories. Visibility365 was founded in Florida and is a collective dedicated to showcasing the triumphs of Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) innovators, disruptors, and change agents within the trans and gender nonconforming (TGNC) community. Our mission is to shed light on the critical issues marginalized individuals face while fostering connections among youth, individuals, communities, and allies. By offering fresh, insightful content and creative programming, we aim to enhance internal and external community engagement and empower the BIPOC TGNC community to combat the negative narrative perpetuated by unauthorized storytellers. Through our efforts, we strive to break the cycle of poverty and marginalization by empowering individuals with the knowledge, inspiration, and tools to create meaningful change in their lives and communities. Thus driving a societal shift that builds empathy, champions rights, and promotes equality, inclusion, and access for the BIPOC TGNC community.

As Vice President of Visibility365, I work to positively impact the world by striving to provide brave and safe spaces for Black transgender, gender nonconforming, and non-binary individuals and youth to preserve, create, share, explore, and express their stories. Visibility365 was founded in Florida and is a collective dedicated to showcasing the triumphs of Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) innovators, disruptors, and change agents within the trans and gender nonconforming (TGNC) community. Our mission is to shed light on the critical issues marginalized individuals face while fostering connections among youth, individuals, communities, and allies. By offering fresh, insightful content and creative programming, we aim to enhance internal and external community engagement and empower the BIPOC TGNC community to combat the negative narrative perpetuated by unauthorized storytellers. Through our efforts, we strive to break the cycle of poverty and marginalization by empowering individuals with the knowledge, inspiration, and tools to create meaningful change in their lives and communities. Thus driving a societal shift that builds empathy, champions rights, and promotes equality, inclusion, and access for the BIPOC TGNC community. At the beginning of 2024, Florida became the political hotbed and ground zero for anti-trans and anti-black legislation after eleven anti-trans bills impacted several areas, including employment, civil rights, incarceration, healthcare, and child abuse, were passed by the current governor and his supporters, after successfully carrying out a strategic plan to strip certain medical professionals from providing life-saving, gender-affirming care for youth and consequently affecting adults. Schools, which were once safe havens for youth to confide in guidance counselors, teachers, and other trusted staff, have shifted into “Don’t tell” institutions. Support no longer exists for in-school TLGBQ+ student-led organizations and youth are left to figure out how to support themselves without resources. Our state has also removed diversity, equity, and inclusion programs in Higher Education, banned sex education in all public schools, banned critical race theory, and banned more books than any other state in their extreme right-wing “Stop Woke” brigade. Through my efforts at Visibility365 and the work of many other trans organizations who are stepping outside of their silos and beginning to understand the importance of collaboration. Our community is resilient, and we are not only calling out the LGBT community but calling them in to be our accomplices while having conversations about how these political attacks affect all of us as we are all connected. Through my work efforts at Visibility365, I aim to satisfy the hunger for uplifting messages and manifestations while amplifying and preserving the voices of those yearning to express their authentic selves. Our very first collaboration was with UWC, based out of California. When we teamed up to feature black transgender individuals on social media daily during black history month, it was through this collaboration that Visibility365 was birthed. Our future plan includes strategizing, marketing and social media strategy, building a budget for equipment and software, and networking. We have collaborations lined up with local black-led trans and LGBQ+ organizations, and we are also building our email and contact list.

My life journey and experiences thus far have been filled with diverse situations and opportunities that have shaped my values and goals. With the education I plan to pursue, I aim to make a difference by utilizing my knowledge and skills to address pressing social issues, contribute to innovative solutions, and empower marginalized communities. This scholarship will provide much needed financial support and resources to help me achieve my goals and create a positive impact in the world. I come from a black, low-income, single-parent household and have faced challenges accessing equal higher education opportunities all my life. Without faith, grit, conscious effort, and sheer determination, it is impossible to remain motivated when facing adversity, and today, I am a product of my hard work and dedication. Despite life's obstacles, I am determined to make something of myself. I persevere and work hard to improve my worth. I will be a second-generation college graduate very soon. I have made it my mission to help others in similar situations gain access to more opportunities than I had. Education is the key to success, and I am committed to ensuring others like myself have the chance to succeed. I cannot count the times I have had to "P.U.S.H.," literally get down on my knees and Pray Until Something Happens just to stay focused on obtaining my juris doctorate and practicing law one day. Currently, I am the adoptive parent of my five-year-old autistic brother, an adult learner with a 3.76 GPA, a surviving federal victim witness with monocular vision as a result of the injuries I sustained during the incident, and nearing the federal loan limit. Despite life's challenges, I show up and remain determined to positively impact marginalized and underserved communities through art, which allowed me to begin the process and afforded me the courage to testify in federal court against my attacker, prompting me to return to college and become a lawyer so that I could use legal advocacy, and community engagement to create a philanthropic initiative focused on educating youth in the community where I lost my right eye. I aim to make a meaningful difference in the lives of those in need; utilizing my resilience, determination, and commitment through legal advocacy and community engagement, I plan to continue serving the community and making a meaningful difference. I will always advocate for my community to ensure its voices are heard, and our rights are respected while using my platform to raise awareness of the challenges marginalized and underserved communities face. I will ensure that these communities can access adequate resources to help them achieve their goals. I will also work to create opportunities for collaboration and partnership and create a safe space for dialogue. Finally, I will empower those most affected by these issues and provide them with the tools and support necessary to succeed. In this way, I hope to foster an equitable and inclusive society for all.

My life journey and experiences thus far have been filled with diverse situations and opportunities that have shaped my values and goals. With the education I plan to pursue, I aim to make a difference by utilizing my knowledge and skills to address pressing social issues, contribute to innovative solutions, and empower marginalized communities. This scholarship will provide much needed financial support and resources to help me achieve my goals and create a positive impact in the world. I come from a black, low-income, single-parent household and have faced challenges accessing equal higher education opportunities all my life. Without faith, grit, conscious effort, and sheer determination, it is impossible to remain motivated when facing adversity, and today, I am a product of my hard work and dedication. Despite life's obstacles, I am determined to make something of myself. I persevere and work hard to improve my worth. I will be a second-generation college graduate very soon. I have made it my mission to help others in similar situations gain access to more opportunities than I had. Education is the key to success, and I am committed to ensuring others like myself have the chance to succeed. I cannot count the times I have had to "P.U.S.H.," literally get down on my knees and Pray Until Something Happens just to stay focused on obtaining my juris doctorate and practicing law one day. Currently, I am the adoptive parent of my five-year-old autistic brother, an adult learner with a 3.76 GPA, a surviving federal victim witness with monocular vision as a result of the injuries I sustained during the incident, and nearing the federal loan limit. Despite life's challenges, I show up and remain determined to positively impact marginalized and underserved communities through art, which allowed me to begin the process and afforded me the courage to testify in federal court against my attacker, prompting me to return to college and become a lawyer so that I could use legal advocacy, and community engagement to create a philanthropic initiative focused on educating youth in the community where I lost my right eye. I aim to make a meaningful difference in the lives of those in need; utilizing my resilience, determination, and commitment through legal advocacy and community engagement, I plan to continue serving the community and making a meaningful difference. I will always advocate for my community to ensure its voices are heard, and our rights are respected while using my platform to raise awareness of the challenges marginalized and underserved communities face. I will ensure that these communities can access adequate resources to help them achieve their goals. I will also work to create opportunities for collaboration and partnership and create a safe space for dialogue. Finally, I will empower those most affected by these issues and provide them with the tools and support necessary to succeed. In this way, I hope to foster an equitable and inclusive society for all.

I come from a black, low-income, single-parent household and have faced challenges accessing equal higher education opportunities all my life. Without faith, grit, conscious effort, and sheer determination, it is impossible to remain motivated when facing adversity. I am a product of my own hard work and dedication. Despite the obstacles, I was determined to make something of myself. I persevere and work hard to improve my worth. I will be a second-generation college graduate very soon. I have made it my mission to help others in similar situations gain access to more opportunities than I had. Education is the key to success, and I am committed to ensuring others like myself have the chance to succeed. I cannot count the times I have had to "P.U.S.H.," literally get down on my knees and Pray Until Something Happens just to stay focused on obtaining my juris doctorate and practicing law one day. Currently, I am the adoptive parent of my five-year-old autistic brother, an adult learner with a 3.76 GPA, a surviving federal victim witness with monocular vision as a result of the injuries I sustained during the incident, and nearing the federal loan limit. Despite life's challenges, I show up and remain determined to positively impact marginalized and underserved communities through art, which allowed me to begin the process and afforded me the courage to testify in federal court against my attacker, prompting me to return to college and become a lawyer so that I could use legal advocacy, and community engagement to create a philanthropic initiative focused on educating youth in the community where I lost my right eye. I aim to make a meaningful difference in the lives of those in need; utilizing my resilience, determination, and commitment through legal advocacy and community engagement, I plan to continue serving the community and making a meaningful difference. I will always advocate for my community to ensure its voices are heard, and our rights are respected while using my platform to raise awareness of the challenges marginalized and underserved communities face. I will ensure that these communities can access adequate resources to help them achieve their goals. I will also work to create opportunities for collaboration and partnership and create a safe space for dialogue. Finally, I will empower those most affected by these issues and provide them with the tools and support necessary to succeed. In this way, I hope to foster an equitable and inclusive society for all.

Question 1. As a transfer student with a 3.76 GPA. I have applied to the University of Central Florida and Barry University and heard back from both institutions. On May 23, 2024, I remitted the required seat deposit to Barry University because, thanks to the Barry University Department of History and Political Science and the Dwayne O. Andreas School of Law, I will earn a combined Pre Law Bachelor of Arts and Juris Doctor Degree via the accelerated 3 + 3 program. My core undergraduate requirements will be completed in the spring of 2025, and my senior undergraduate year will also be my first year of law school. Question 2. My thirst for knowledge and scholarly growth cannot be quenched, so the walls of formal education can not confine me; I am always seeking opportunities to advance by attending developmental workshops and seminars, reading books and articles, engaging in discussions and debates as well as painting which challenges the norms of intellectual development. I also actively participate in online study groups and courses to gain access to new information and seek guidance, mentorship, advice, and feedback on my development. At the same time, I take full advantage of my network of peers and professionals because they provide valuable insights and perspectives that prompt new challenges and opportunities to stretch my knowledge and skills—an example of how this pursuit shapes your legal aspirations is how it allowed me to develop a comprehensive understanding of the legal field and hone my skills to become a more well-rounded professional. It also enabled me to build a strong network of contacts that I can use to stay ahead of the competition. Question 3. As someone raised with a solid foundation of morals and values, I have done my best to avoid situations that cause moral dilemmas. To this day, I am persistent in upholding my values, so strategizing is not a significant concern. Still, when I was younger, I faced an instance regarding whether to stand up for a friend being bullied or to remain silent and avoid getting involved. Ultimately, I chose to defend my friend, even though it meant potentially facing the same mistreatment, which was a difficult decision. Still, it taught me the importance of loyalty and standing up for what is right. Question 4. Suppose I had the resources to create a philanthropic initiative, the cause it would support would be youth and art-focused and centered on engaging and educating the underserved community in the direct vicinity of two superfund sites near the city where I grew up and lost my right eye after being robbed while working in 2017, where the negative socioeconomic impacts of formerly contaminated land are still present to this day. It is art's extraordinary ability to evoke emotions, spark conversations, and create a profound connection between individuals and the environment that allowed me to begin the process of healing. I firmly believe that Art’s potent ability to increase awareness while fostering emotional connections and motivating efforts to tackle crises that afforded me the courage to testify in federal court against my attacker, and that experience prompted me to go back to college and become a lawyer. As it stands, the city council would rather regentrify the area and make it far too expensive for locals to continue living in the region rather than adhere to terms of environmental justice, which encourages fair treatment and meaningful involvement of all people regardless of race, color, national origin, or income concerning the development, implementation, and enforcement of envenvironmental laws, regulations, and policies and the equitable distribution of environmental benefits.