If I could create a class that every K–12 student in America was required to take, it would be called “Emotional Literacy and Mental Wellness.” This course would not be an occasional lesson buried in a health textbook. It would be a central, ongoing part of the curriculum from kindergarten through high school, just as essential as math or reading. Why? Because emotional intelligence isn’t a luxury. It’s a foundation for everything else: learning, relationships, resilience, and self-worth. And yet, in far too many schools, we don’t teach children how to name their emotions, how to manage anxiety, how to seek help, or how to cope with life’s inevitable stressors. We expect students to regulate themselves, often without ever teaching them how. As someone who grew up in a culture where emotional struggles were hidden and strength was measured by silence, I know how dangerous that gap can be. I lived most of my life believing that asking for help was a weakness. Only in recent years, after battling depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of financial hardship and medical challenges, did I begin to understand that mental wellness isn’t optional. It’s life-saving. And it’s something we should be teaching from the very beginning. This mental health enrichment class would grow with the students. In early grades, it would focus on simple practices: identifying feelings, using calming strategies, learning empathy, and building confidence. As students grow, so will the curriculum, covering topics like mindfulness, emotional regulation, healthy boundaries, stress management, coping with grief, and understanding mental illness without stigma. Students would learn how to recognize emotional challenges in themselves and others, communicate compassionately, and seek support without shame. The class would also integrate art, movement, journaling, breathing exercises, and open discussion circles, creating space for self-expression and connection. For high school students, the curriculum could include peer support models, healthy relationship skills, and preparation for emotionally navigating life beyond graduation. The impact of this class would be profound. I believe it would reduce bullying, lower anxiety and depression rates, and increase academic engagement. It would help students develop resilience, not by forcing them to “tough it out,” but by teaching them to navigate adversity with tools and support. It would normalize help-seeking behavior and empower students to advocate for themselves and others. And perhaps most importantly, it would create classrooms where every child, regardless of their background, feels seen, safe, and valued. As a future teacher and a mother to a gay teenager, I’ve seen firsthand how life-changing emotional safety can be. I’ve mentored LGBTQ+ youth, offered space for difficult conversations, and worked to model what healthy vulnerability looks like. I never had a class like this growing up, but I needed one. I believe every child deserves access to that kind of support. Mental health education should not be reserved for a crisis. It should be a daily part of teaching, learning, and growing. Because when we give children the tools to understand themselves and others, we’re not just improving their school experience. We prepare them for a more compassionate, connected, and resilient life.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother, an immigrant from Poland, and a first-generation college student. My path to higher education has been long and filled with challenges, but also with deep purpose. I am currently pursuing a degree in Elementary Education with the goal of becoming a teacher who not only delivers academic instruction but also nurtures students’ emotional well-being, especially those facing adversity. My life has been shaped by loss, resilience, and transformation. When I was twelve, my father abandoned our family without a word. The pain of that absence left a lasting imprint and changed the course of my childhood. My mother became our sole provider, often working multiple jobs just to get by. She was rarely present, and by the time I was sixteen, I was living largely on my own, navigating school, emotional struggles, and survival without consistent support. Despite this, I never stopped believing in the power of education. It was a teacher who first helped me find hope. She saw something in me when I couldn’t see it myself and created a space where I felt safe and valued. That experience planted the seed of my dream to become a teacher who could offer the same care and guidance to children who, like me, carried invisible burdens. I want to be the teacher who notices the child sitting quietly in the back of the room, the one who might be hurting, and says, “I see you. You matter.” As a future educator, I plan to teach in underserved, culturally diverse communities, where I can use my own life experiences: immigration, financial hardship, mental health struggles, and single motherhood, to connect with students and families who often feel unseen. I want to create classrooms that are emotionally responsive, inclusive, and safe. I believe deeply in early childhood development, and I plan to specialize in that field because I know the early years are foundational for building confidence, identity, and a sense of belonging. Before returning to school, I worked for more than a decade as a mosaic artist. Art became a way for me to heal, process emotions, and connect across cultures. I hope to bring creativity into my teaching, using art as a tool for self-expression and learning. I also speak openly about mental health, something I never saw growing up, because I believe that emotional wellness should be part of every classroom. This scholarship would be an essential support in helping me reach these goals. As a single mother juggling school, parenting, and currently on unemployment, the financial strain is significant. I’ve also faced recent medical challenges, including surgery for skin cancer, and was laid off from my work due to a lack of mosaic projects. Despite these hardships, I’ve remained committed to finishing my degree. Receiving this scholarship would relieve financial pressure and allow me to focus more fully on my coursework and future career. Being the first in my family to pursue a college education is not just a personal milestone. It is a legacy I am building for my son and for every child I will teach. This scholarship would not only change my life. It would help me become the kind of teacher who changes lives in return. Thank you for believing in students like me.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother, an immigrant from Poland, and a future educator. The journey to earning my college degree has not been easy but it has been purposeful. With each step I’ve taken toward completing my degree in Elementary Education, I’ve become more rooted in my goal: to become the kind of teacher who not only instructs minds but nurtures hearts. When I graduate, I hope to bring empathy, equity, and emotional intelligence into classrooms, especially for students who, like I once did, carry invisible burdens. As a child growing up in Poland, I experienced abandonment in its most painful form. My father left our family without a word, without closure, and without acknowledgment. I was twelve. That moment created a lifelong ache and sense of invisibility. My mother became my sole provider, working tirelessly to support us. Though she was loving and determined, emotional expression was not something we were taught. Like many in my culture, I learned to equate strength with silence. But inside, I was aching to be seen, heard, and understood. Thankfully, there were teachers who noticed. One literature teacher in particular saw something in me I could not yet see in myself. She gave me books, encouragement, and a safe space to express myself. That relationship planted a seed in my heart. A dream to one day become a teacher who makes students feel seen. Now, decades later, that dream is becoming a reality. What I hope to accomplish after graduation goes beyond securing a job. I want to build a classroom that acts as a second home for my students, especially those navigating trauma, displacement, or identity struggles. I want to champion emotional literacy alongside academic learning. I believe education must be holistic. Children cannot thrive academically if their emotional needs go unmet. That belief is personal to me. As someone who has lived with depression and anxiety, I understand how mental health and learning are interconnected. My own educational journey was often interrupted by emotional struggles that no one could name, let alone help with. That’s why I’ve made mental health a cornerstone of my teaching philosophy. As a future teacher, I plan to integrate social-emotional learning, trauma-informed practices, and cultural responsiveness into everything I do. Whether it’s incorporating mindfulness exercises, holding daily emotional check-ins, or using literature that reflects diverse identities and experiences, I want to create a classroom where every child feels they belong. I want students to know that they are not just test scores or behavior charts. They are whole people, with valid emotions, dreams, and potential. My degree will also allow me to advocate for early childhood development in particular. I believe those early years are formative, not just academically, but emotionally and socially. Children begin developing their self-concept, their sense of safety, and their belief in whether they matter. I want to ensure that during this critical window, they experience support, curiosity, and celebration. My long-term goal is to teach in a diverse, underserved community in New York City, where my background as an immigrant, single parent, and trauma survivor will help me connect with students and families who often feel marginalized. I also want to bring creativity into my teaching. Before returning to school, I worked for over a decade as a mosaic artist. Art became a lifeline for me. It was how I processed emotions, connected with others, and found healing. I hope to infuse art into my teaching, not just as an enrichment activity, but as a vital tool for expression, confidence-building, and cultural sharing. In a city like New York, where classrooms are filled with students from every corner of the world, creative expression can be a unifying and empowering force. Earning this degree is not just about me. It’s about giving back to my community, modeling resilience for my son, and honoring the teachers who helped guide me through my darkest moments. My son, Jakub, is my greatest motivation. He came out as gay as a teenager, and watching him navigate that journey gave me a deeper understanding of the need for inclusive, affirming adults in every child’s life. I’ve become not only an ally but an advocate, offering support not just to him, but to his friends and other LGBTQ+ youth who often don’t feel safe at home or at school. I want to bring that advocacy into my future classroom. I want to be the teacher who validates every child’s identity and creates a space where they can truly be themselves. This scholarship would be a vital stepping stone in achieving these goals. As a single mother who balances school, part-time work, and parenting, the financial burden is heavy. In recent years, I’ve also faced medical challenges, including a skin cancer diagnosis and surgery that left me emotionally and financially drained. I was also laid off from my job and have since been working hard to rebuild my life. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to focus more fully on my education without the constant stress of how to afford tuition, books, or basic living expenses. More than that, it would be a vote of confidence in my mission to become a teacher who uplifts children and transforms classrooms into spaces of hope. Looking ahead, I envision a career not only as a teacher, but as a mentor, advocate, and community builder. I hope to collaborate with families, engage in professional development focused on equity and inclusion, and even mentor new educators who, like me, may be entering the profession with non-traditional backgrounds. I want to bring everything I’ve lived. Every challenge, every turning point into my work as an educator. Because I believe that the best teachers are those who teach from the heart and lead from lived experience. Graduating with a degree in Elementary Education is not the end of my journey. It’s the beginning. It’s the doorway to the impact I’ve spent a lifetime preparing for. With your support, I will walk through that door ready to serve, ready to uplift, and ready to help every child believe in their worth and their future. Thank you for considering my application. Your support will not only change my life. It will help me change the lives of the children and families I will one day serve.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother, an immigrant from Poland, and a student pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. My journey through mental health challenges has not been easy, but it has been transformative. It has redefined my beliefs about strength, reshaped how I connect with others, and solidified my purpose as a future educator. Living with depression and anxiety, especially while raising my son and rebuilding my life after significant setbacks, has taught me that prioritizing emotional and mental wellness is not only essential. It’s life-saving. In the culture I grew up in, strength was often synonymous with silence. Emotional struggles were seen as personal failures, and asking for help was discouraged. As a child, I never saw adults speak openly about their feelings or seek therapy. Vulnerability, especially for women, was often met with shame or dismissal. I carried those internalized messages into adulthood, believing that pushing through pain was a mark of resilience. But over time, that mindset began to break me down. A few years ago, I reached a turning point. I was living in New York City, trying to provide for my son Jakub while going back to school and navigating the emotional and financial devastation caused by the pandemic. I had been laid off from my job as a mosaic artist, I was managing overwhelming medical debt after surgery for skin cancer, and I was battling deep feelings of isolation. I felt like I was constantly falling behind, unable to catch my breath. And beneath all of that was a depression that had been quietly growing for years. In that season of emotional exhaustion, I made a difficult but necessary decision. I had to put my health first. Not later. Not when life got easier. Right then. I reached out for help. I started therapy. I began taking medication to manage my anxiety and depression. I created daily routines that included walks, journaling, quiet moments, and boundaries around my time and energy. But perhaps most importantly, I began speaking honestly about my mental health. First with myself, then my son, and eventually others in my community. I told Jakub it was okay to feel scared or sad. I said to him that asking for help was brave, not weak. I wanted to break the cycle of silence I had grown up with and model a different kind of strength. That decision, to choose wellness, has become the foundation for how I now live my life. It has reshaped my beliefs in powerful ways. I no longer view resilience as the ability to suffer in silence. I see it as the willingness to care for yourself, especially when it’s hard. Rest, therapy, and self-compassion are as crucial as discipline, work ethic, and ambition. And I now understand that emotional literacy is not just helpful, but it’s critical. My experience with mental health has also transformed my relationships. As a mother, I have become more emotionally present for my son. I listen more. I ask more profound questions. I encourage him to talk about his feelings, even when uncomfortable. Our bond has grown stronger because I no longer hide my struggles. I show him that being human means having ups and downs and that we can choose healing together. I want him to grow up with emotional tools I never had. As a friend and member of my community, I’ve also become a safe space for others. I’ve had open conversations with classmates, neighbors, and especially LGBTQ+ youth, many of whom are silently suffering. My son is gay, and his coming out journey helped me understand how vital emotional safety is, especially for young people navigating identity and acceptance. I’ve mentored some of his friends, offered guidance and encouragement, and created an open home where they can be whole. I never had an adult who did that for me, and it is one of the greatest honors of my life to be that person for someone else. These experiences have not only deepened my empathy. They’ve fueled my career aspirations. I want to become a teacher. Someone who doesn’t just focus on grades, but also notices when a child is struggling emotionally. Someone who creates a classroom where every student feels seen, safe, and supported. I want to normalize conversations around mental health in education. I want to integrate mindfulness practices, emotional check-ins, and social-emotional learning into the fabric of the classroom. Because I know from personal experience that students can’t thrive academically if their emotional needs are ignored. Living in New York City, a place rich with diversity, has further expanded my understanding of how culture, race, gender, and sexuality all intersect with mental health. Every student will bring their own story into my classroom. Some may be marked by trauma, others by fear or exclusion. My responsibility as an educator is to teach content and help students feel like they belong. That work begins with emotional sensitivity and continues with an active commitment to inclusion. Prioritizing my mental health was not a one-time fix. It is a daily practice. Some days are more complex than others. But each time I choose rest over burnout, honesty over hiding, or connection over isolation, I get closer to the future I want to build for myself, my family, and my future students. Mental health matters because I know what it’s like to feel broken and what it takes to begin healing. It matters because everyone deserves support in their struggles, regardless of background. And it matters because I believe that the next generation deserves better, not just better test scores, but better support systems, better emotional education, and better models of what it means to live fully and well. My journey with mental health has taught me that choosing yourself is not selfish. It’s the beginning of everything.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. Though I was raised in Poland, where strength was measured by silence and emotional struggles were often hidden, I have learned to redefine strength as vulnerability, healing, and choosing wellness even when life is hard. A turning point in my life came just a few years ago, when I was battling depression and anxiety while trying to support my son, go back to school, and keep up with the pressures of life in New York City. The pandemic had left me unemployed, isolated, and overwhelmed. I had undergone surgery for skin cancer and was trying to manage lingering medical bills. Everything felt too heavy. For the first time, I understood how easily someone can lose themselves when mental health is neglected. In that moment of deep emotional fatigue, I made a decision: I would put my health first. Not eventually. Not when things “settled down.” Right then. I sought professional help, started therapy, and began taking medication for anxiety and depression. These steps were not easy, especially with the stigma I’d grown up with. But they were necessary. I also carved out small but consistent time for myself each day to walk, journal, or simply breathe in silence. Most importantly, I began talking openly about my mental health with those around me, especially my son, Jakub. I told him that it was okay to not be okay, and that asking for help takes courage. Choosing to prioritize my mental and emotional well-being changed everything. I learned that self-care isn’t selfish—it’s survival. I learned that healing isn’t linear, but progress comes when we keep showing up for ourselves, day after day. And I learned that we are never truly alone when we’re willing to let others in. That experience has reshaped how I approach every aspect of my life today. As a student, I no longer push through exhaustion or ignore warning signs of burnout. I advocate for balance, not perfection. I give myself permission to rest, because I’ve learned that academic success means nothing if it comes at the cost of my health. As a mother, I now model emotional awareness and self-care for my son. I talk with him about feelings and mental health openly—something I never experienced as a child. I want him to grow up understanding that his emotional well-being matters just as much as any achievement. As a future teacher, I am passionate about creating emotionally safe classrooms. I want my students to feel seen, supported, and accepted. I want to bring mental health into the daily conversation, as a fundamental part of education. From mindfulness breaks to social-emotional learning, I believe that emotional literacy should be as prioritized as reading and math. I also carry this work into my broader community. As a proud mother of a gay son and an advocate for LGBTQ+ youth, I support inclusive spaces where all people can thrive emotionally and physically. I know how damaging it is to feel invisible. I want to be a steady, affirming presence for every child, friend, and neighbor who needs one. Prioritizing my mental and emotional health was not a single moment. It is a daily decision. And it is the reason I am still here, still learning, still loving, and still growing. That decision is helping me build a future not just for myself, but for the students and families I will one day serve. Because choosing yourself, especially when it’s hardest, is the most powerful step toward creating a brighter, healthier future.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. I was born and raised in Poland, where education was highly valued, but emotional health was rarely discussed. Today, I openly live with depression and anxiety, and I believe that talking about mental health is essential to individual well-being, especially in the context of education. Mental health is not separate from academic success. It is a foundation for it. As a student, a mother, and a future teacher, I have learned that acknowledging mental health struggles, seeking support, and advocating for emotional education are all acts of courage and resilience. Living with mental illness has made my path more complex, but it has also given me strength and compassion. I am currently medicated, and I continue to work daily on maintaining my mental wellness. It took me years to realize that asking for help is not a weakness but a necessary step toward healing. Finding someone to talk to, knowing where to turn in moments of crisis, and understanding that I am not alone were life-changing realizations. As a student, I make my mental health a priority because I know I cannot be present in my studies or in my future classroom if I am not taking care of myself first. I lost my father when I was twelve. Not to death, but to abandonment. He left our family, started a new life abroad, and disappeared from mine. That traumatic experience shaped the emotional challenges I carry today. My mother, suddenly a single parent, worked multiple jobs to support us. While she couldn’t always be emotionally available, she showed me the power of perseverance. When I felt invisible, my teachers became the steady hands guiding me forward. One, in particular, saw potential in me when I couldn’t see it myself. Her compassion and encouragement helped me through some of my darkest times. That same compassion is what I strive to bring to my community. As a student, I advocate for mental health by speaking openly about my own journey. At home, I model emotional openness for my son, Jakub. I teach him to identify his feelings, talk about them, and ask for help when needed. I believe early emotional education sets the foundation for lifelong mental health. Mental health advocacy is not only personal. It is a professional goal. As a future teacher, I want to be the kind of educator students can trust, not just with their academic performance. I want my classroom to be a safe and understanding place where students feel heard, supported, and respected. I want to help destigmatize mental health by making it a natural part of the classroom conversation—through mindfulness practices, social-emotional learning, and by simply being present and attentive. Living in New York City has further shown me how vital it is to support students from all walks of life. In such a diverse environment, every student brings unique emotional needs and challenges. A culturally responsive and emotionally sensitive classroom is not just beneficial—it is essential! I will work to ensure that every child knows they matter, that their feelings are valid, and that support is always available. Mental health matters to me because I have lived through its storms and found my way forward. It matters because I want to be a teacher who not only educates minds but nurtures hearts. For me, mental health is not a side note. It is central to who I am and who I aim to be.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother, immigrant, and aspiring elementary school teacher currently pursuing a degree in education. Mental health and suicide prevention are deeply important topics today, especially among adults like me who are balancing life’s many roles while still working to heal from past trauma. But these issues are equally vital for the younger generation, particularly LGBTQ+ youth who face an increased risk of depression, anxiety, and suicide due to social stigma and lack of support. I live with depression and anxiety. These are not just words or diagnoses to me. They are part of my lived experience. I was born and raised in Poland, where emotional health was rarely acknowledged, much less treated. I spent much of my early adulthood internalizing pain, believing that seeking help would make me look weak or unstable. It took time and motherhood for me to unlearn those harmful beliefs. When my son Jakub came out to me as gay, I realized I had an even greater responsibility: to be emotionally present, safe, and supportive for him. That required me to care for my own mental health first. Suicide prevention and mental health awareness are personal to me because I’ve experienced the deep loneliness and hopelessness that can lead someone to consider ending their life. In my darkest moments, what saved me wasn’t a miracle. It was a single kind act, a word of encouragement, or simply knowing someone saw me. That’s why I believe so strongly in the power of community and connection. When people feel invisible, they begin to believe their life doesn’t matter. I am committed to making sure no one around me ever feels that way. As a mother, I have extended that commitment not just to my son, but to his LGBTQ+ friends, many of whom don’t have the safety and support that he has at home. They confide in me when they’re struggling with identity, rejection, or mental health. I offer guidance, compassion, and a listening ear. I want them to know that there is always someone who sees them, values them, and believes in their future. My experience with mental health has shaped every part of who I am. It has made me more empathetic, more resilient, and more determined to create change. It has impacted my beliefs. I no longer see vulnerability as a flaw, but as a form of courage. It has influenced my relationships. I’ve built deeper, more honest connections with others, especially my son. And it has shaped my career aspirations. I want to be the kind of teacher who notices when a child is struggling and meets them with understanding instead of judgment. I plan to bring mental health and suicide prevention awareness into my classroom and community through open conversations, emotional education, and inclusive practices. I want to teach students how to name their feelings, ask for help, and support each other. I want to advocate for school environments where LGBTQ+ students feel safe and affirmed. And I want to model that wellness is not a destination—it is a practice! Receiving this scholarship would help lift a heavy burden. After being laid off during the pandemic and undergoing surgery for skin cancer, I’ve faced financial hardship while returning to school to pursue my calling. But my resolve is stronger than ever. I will finish this degree. I will become the educator I needed when I was a child. And I will continue to be a fierce ally for those who need a voice and a safe space.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother, immigrant, student, and LGBTQ+ ally currently pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. For me, mental and physical wellness is not a luxury. It is a daily necessity and the foundation of everything I am working to build for myself, for my son, and for the students I hope to one day teach. Growing up in Poland, emotional wellness was rarely discussed. I was raised in a home where strength was equated with silence, and vulnerability was often misunderstood. I’ve since come to understand that caring for your mental and physical health is not a sign of weakness. It is a powerful act of self-empowerment, especially for those of us who exist in spaces where we may be marginalized, misunderstood, or simply overlooked. Today, I live with depression and anxiety. I take medication, I seek support when I need it, and I speak openly about my mental health because I know how crucial it is to normalize these conversations. As a student, I face many challenges. Balancing coursework with single motherhood, financial stress, and ongoing mental health care is never easy. There are days when the pressure feels overwhelming. There are moments when imposter syndrome creeps in, whispering that I’m too old, too tired, or too broken to start over. But I know better now. I know that showing up, even in small ways, is an act of courage. I’ve learned to prioritize my wellness not only for my own success but because I want to be a role model to my son and to the LGBTQ+ youth I advocate for. My journey with the LGBTQ+ community is deeply personal. I am the proud mother of a gay son, Jakub. From the moment he came out to me, I made a conscious decision to not only support him but to become an active, visible ally. I educate myself, I advocate for inclusive healthcare, and I open my home and heart to his friends, many of whom don’t feel safe being themselves elsewhere. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, and I never want another child to carry that weight alone. For me, wellness includes being a safe adult for LGBTQ+ youth. Someone who listens, respects, and affirms their identities. Discrimination, stigma, and lack of inclusive resources remain significant barriers for LGBTQ+ individuals, especially youth. These stressors take a real toll on both mental and physical health. In response, I’ve made it my mission to create safe, affirming spaces—at home, at school, and in the broader community. I support LGBTQ+-owned businesses, raise awareness about healthcare disparities, and speak out against prejudice whenever I encounter it. As a future teacher, I’m committed to building a classroom where all students, regardless of identity, can thrive emotionally, mentally, and academically. Living through personal health challenges, including a recent battle with skin cancer and the instability brought on by the pandemic, has further taught me that wellness is not something we can afford to postpone. It is the foundation upon which we build our futures. It is what allows us to show up fully for ourselves and for others. I want to be a teacher who recognizes the whole child, who sees beyond grades, who helps every student feel seen, heard, and safe. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to continue my studies with less financial burden and more focus on what truly matters: becoming an educator who leads with empathy, who uplifts LGBTQ+ youth, and who prioritizes wellness not just for herself but for every student who walks through her door.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother to a wonderful son, Jakub. My journey to becoming a teacher has been shaped by heartbreak and hope. I lost my father in an unconventional, excruciating way. When I was twelve, he left our family without a word. My mother even hired a private investigator to search for him, only to discover that he had left Poland, started a new life in another country, and had a new partner and child. It was abandonment in its purest form. There was no closure, no goodbye—only a void that shifted the course of my life. Following his departure, my mother became my sole provider and emotional anchor. She worked tirelessly, often holding multiple jobs, to keep our lives afloat. Though she had little time to sit with me over homework or attend school functions, her strength and sacrifice taught me the meaning of perseverance. At the same time, I found myself feeling lonely, angry, and invisible. It was my teachers who helped fill that emptiness. One high school literature teacher, in particular, saw something in me and nurtured it. She reminded me that my voice mattered and I had something to offer. Her classroom became my safe haven, where I was not just seen, but valued. The first time I stood in front of a classroom, I was not a teacher, but a nervous teenager reading aloud to younger children at a community center in Poland. My palms were sweaty and my voice trembled, but I still remember the wonder in those children's eyes. That experience sparked something in me. Even then, I knew that teaching was not just about instruction but about connection, inspiration, and helping others feel seen and heard. At fifteen, my mother left for the United States for a better future for us both. I stayed behind, completed high school, and began college in Poland. However, life pulled me in other directions. After years of traveling back and forth, I moved to New York permanently at age twenty to help care for my mother, who had become ill. I worked various jobs, earned an Associate’s Degree in Fine Arts, and eventually built a career as a mosaic artist. Art gave me a way to process emotions that words sometimes failed to express, and it helped me connect with people across languages and cultures. Yet the desire to become a teacher never left me. After losing my job during the pandemic and battling skin cancer, I realized life is too short to ignore my calling, so I enrolled in a teaching program and am now pursuing my degree in Elementary Education. Losing my father changed my life, but it also gave me a more profound empathy for children who carry silent struggles. I know what it feels like to grow up too fast, to hide your pain, and to long for stability. These experiences will inform my teaching. I will notice when a child is falling behind emotionally or academically. I will celebrate their victories—no matter how small—and create a space where every child feels like they belong. Teaching is not just a profession for me. It is a mission. I want to be the teacher who lifts students, who sees their strengths when the world sees their shortcomings. Living in New York City, a place full of cultural richness, has further taught me the value of inclusivity and understanding. I am committed to building a classroom that reflects those values—a place where diversity is celebrated and every child feels respected, heard, and empowered.

EDM has never been just music to me—it’s a pulse, a way of life, and a continuous thread that has connected the different chapters of my journey from Poland to the United States. From the early days of clubbing and attending underground festivals in Poland to dancing under the lights of iconic venues in New York City, EDM has been my constant companion. It’s more than sound; it’s a lifestyle, a culture, and a community that has profoundly inspired and impacted me. My love for EDM began long before I immigrated to the United States. Back in Poland, the dance floor was my sanctuary. It wasn’t just about the music; it was about the collective energy, the unspoken bond with strangers who, like me, came to lose themselves in rhythm and lights. The passion only grew when I moved to the U.S., where the EDM scene was vibrant and expansive. I became a dedicated clubgoer and festival attendee, making countless friendships and connections with DJs, producers, and fellow fans. I live this music, I breathe it, and I find purpose and joy within its beats. One of the most significant influences in my EDM journey has been my best friend, Izabela, also known as Idl Isabelle. We’ve known each other since our teenage years in Poland, and our bond has only deepened through our mutual love for electronic music. Izabela is not just a friend; she’s a mentor and an inspiration. Officially emerging onto the scene in 1997 at the young age of 16, she brought a unique and sophisticated sound to her hometown of Olsztyn, Poland. Through her grassroots parties like "Repeat Until Keypressed" and "Black Roses," she cultivated a thriving local scene and introduced many of us to genres and artists we would have never discovered otherwise. Izabela’s dedication and fearless creativity shaped my understanding of what it means to truly live for music. Her journey—from organizing underground parties to playing alongside global talents like Water Lilly, Daniel Benavente or Satronica—is a testament to her artistry and resilience. Even now, residing in New York and focusing more on production after studying at Dubspot Electronic Music School, she remains an innovator. Her ability to blend dark techno, minimal, and experimental electronica into mesmerizing sets is nothing short of magical. I’m incredibly proud to be her friend, and her path continues to inspire my own. The dance floor remains a sacred space for us. Even now, in our 40s and as mothers, we still carve out time to dance, reconnect, and celebrate the music that brought us together. Recently, we found ourselves lost in hypnotic sounds of Surgeon—an unforgettable night. A few months earlier, we had the privilege of experiencing a set by the legendary Jeff Mills, a true wizard of electronic music. These moments remind me that EDM is ageless, timeless, and ever-evolving. What I love most about the EDM community is its inclusivity. There are no boundaries—no judgments about age, background, or appearance. On the dance floor, we are all equal. The community welcomes everyone with open arms and open hearts, united by a shared love for rhythm, freedom, and expression. Whether it's dancing under the stars at a festival or sweating in a packed NYC club, the atmosphere is always electric, authentic, and full of life. In every beat, every drop, every sunrise after a long night of dancing, EDM continues to impact me. It’s shaped my friendships, nurtured my spirit, and given me countless unforgettable experiences. I don’t just listen to electronic music—I live it. And I’m endlessly grateful for the community that surrounds it.

From a young age, I felt drawn to the world of children. As a teenager in Poland, I volunteered to read stories to young children at a local community center. I was nervous, but I still remember how they listened so intently and smiled when I read with emotion and care. That moment stayed with me and planted the seed for what would become a lifelong dream—to become an educator who helps children feel safe, heard, and inspired. Today, as a 42-year-old single mother to my son Jakub, I am finally pursuing that dream. I am currently studying Elementary Education and plan to earn certification in Early Childhood Education in New York State. I chose this path because I deeply believe in the power of early childhood development. The early years are critical—children begin building their sense of identity, security, and belonging. What they experience during this time can shape how they learn, relate to others, and view themselves for the rest of their lives. I plan to support early childhood development by creating nurturing, inclusive, and emotionally responsive classroom environments. I want my classroom to be a place where children feel safe to explore, make mistakes, and express themselves. My teaching philosophy is grounded in empathy, cultural sensitivity, and trauma-informed practices. Because of my own lived experiences—immigrating to a new country as a teen, growing up without my mother, overcoming financial hardship, and navigating life as a single parent—I understand what it means to carry invisible burdens. I will use that insight to recognize when a child is struggling and respond with patience and compassion. My approach to early childhood education will include play-based learning, social-emotional development, and strong family partnerships. I believe in teaching the whole child—not just academically, but socially and emotionally. I want to help children develop confidence, curiosity, and kindness—skills they will carry with them well beyond the classroom. This scholarship would make a tremendous difference in helping me continue this journey. While pursuing my degree, I also balance parenting, part-time work, and the financial pressures that come with being a sole provider. In recent years, I’ve also faced medical challenges, including a skin cancer diagnosis that added to my financial stress. Receiving this scholarship would relieve some of the burden and allow me to focus more fully on my coursework and practical experience in the field. Becoming an early childhood educator is not just a career goal for me—it’s a calling that I’ve carried through every twist and turn in my life. With this scholarship, you are not just investing in my education, but in the lives of the many children I will one day teach, nurture, and uplift. Thank you for considering my application and for supporting future educators who are ready to make a difference—one child at a time.

My journey with the LGBTQ+ community is deeply personal, rooted in love, advocacy, and the belief that everyone deserves to be accepted for who they are. I am a proud mother to a gay son, and from the moment he came out to me, my role in the community evolved from simply being an ally to becoming a more active advocate and supporter. Raising my son, Jakub, has been the greatest blessing of my life. When he shared with me that he is gay, I knew my only job was to continue loving him unconditionally and to support him in discovering his identity. As a parent, nothing is more important than making your child feel safe, valued, and heard. I have always made sure that our home is a place where he can fully be himself without fear of judgment. I have educated myself on LGBTQ+ issues, terminology, and history so that I can better understand the challenges he and others in the community face. My support for the LGBTQ+ community doesn’t stop at home. I actively support small LGBTQ+-owned businesses in New York City, whether it's dining at queer-owned cafés or shopping from artists and makers who are part of the community. I believe that economic empowerment is a powerful form of allyship, and I want to contribute to spaces where queer individuals can thrive, be creative, and express themselves freely. In addition to supporting my son, I’ve also become a trusted adult for many of his friends. Several of them, especially those who don’t have accepting families, have confided in me over the years. I offer them guidance, emotional support, and mentorship—whether they’re struggling with identity, bullying, coming out, or simply trying to navigate life as queer teens. It’s deeply important to me that they know someone is in their corner, believing in them. I never had that kind of safe adult growing up, so I make it my mission to be that person for them. My long-term goal is to continue this work within my future classroom. As an aspiring elementary school teacher currently earning my degree in Elementary Education at WGU, I am deeply committed to creating inclusive, welcoming environments for all. Representation and acceptance matter! I want every child who walks into my classroom to feel seen, safe, and celebrated. Receiving this scholarship would be life-changing for me. As a single mother who has worked tirelessly to support my son while going back to school, the financial strain is real. The COVID-19 pandemic deeply impacted my life—I was laid off from my job as a mosaic artist, and in the years that followed, I also underwent surgery for skin cancer, which left me with overwhelming medical bills. Every dollar counts right now, not just for my education, but for our household and my son’s future. Despite these challenges, I am determined to earn my degree and begin a meaningful career as an educator. With this scholarship, I can focus more on my studies and training, worry less about how to pay for tuition or textbooks, and move forward with my dream of becoming a teacher who uplifts all students, especially those in the LGBTQ+ community. My lived experiences as a Polish-born immigrant, an artist, a mother, and an ally give me a unique and compassionate lens. I know how important it is for LGBTQ+ youth to feel accepted, not just at home but in school and in their communities. I am committed to being the kind of educator who not only teaches but also listens, supports, and empowers every child to be their authentic self.

Some people are lucky enough to discover their calling early in life. For me, the dream of becoming a teacher bloomed in childhood and continued to grow, even as life led me through unexpected paths. I’ve worn many hats—immigrant, artist, mother—but the role I’ve always longed for is that of an educator. As I reflect on who had the most profound impact on my decision to pursue a career in education, I see two guiding lights: my mother, who taught me the value of perseverance and sacrifice, and the teachers who shaped my life through their care and dedication. Their combined influence helped me stay connected to my passion, and shaped the kind of educator I aspire to be. Growing up in Poland, education wasn’t just encouraged—it was essential. My mother instilled this value in me from a very young age. We didn’t have much. My father left us when I was just 11 years old. But my mom made sure I had what I needed to succeed in school. I remember her staying up late to help me with homework and reminding me to give my best, no matter how hard things seemed. Her unwavering belief in education shaped my understanding of its power. For her, education was a path to independence and opportunity—especially for women. From the beginning, I was drawn to the classroom. I admired my teachers not just for what they taught, but for how they made me feel—safe, encouraged, and valued. One teacher in particular, my elementary school homeroom teacher, Mrs. Nowak, left a lasting impression. She was warm and patient, but also consistent and fair. She never raised her voice, yet commanded respect through her kindness and integrity. More than her teaching, it was the way she made each student feel seen that stayed with me. When I felt uncertain or discouraged, she encouraged me. She created a space where every child—no matter their background—had a chance to grow. That classroom felt like home. I wanted to one day build the same kind of space for others. Inspired by Mrs. Nowak, I enrolled in Preparatory Teachers College after high school with the goal of becoming an elementary teacher. But life intervened. My mother became ill, and I made the difficult decision to leave my studies and move to the United States to support her emotionally and financially. Starting over in New York City was not easy. I had to learn a new language, culture, and way of life—all while trying to find stability. Once my mother’s health improved, I began thinking about returning to school. But I worried that the language barrier and unfamiliar education system would be too difficult. I shifted directions and studied Fine Arts—another lifelong passion of mine. I’ve always been creative. I worked with my hands, loved painting, and found joy in color, texture, and movement. I became a professional mosaic artist and spent over 14 years working for one of the top marble and stone companies on the East Coast. During this time, I also danced, indulged in music and cinematography, and enjoyed exploring the flavors of New York City. Although art became my livelihood and creative outlet, the dream of teaching never left me. Life continued unfolding. I got engaged, married, divorced, and became a mother. Raising my son is both the most challenging and most fulfilling part of my life. Watching him grow, helping with his homework, and being involved in his education reignited something in me. I realized how naturally I connected with young learners and how passionate I was about their development—not just academically, but emotionally. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit in 2020, I lost my job. While that period was full of uncertainty, it gave me time to reflect on what I really wanted in life. That time of pause brought clarity. I knew it was finally the moment to return to my original dream. I enrolled in Western Governors University to pursue a degree in Elementary Education. Even this chapter hasn’t been easy. Last year, I was diagnosed with skin cancer. I went through surgery and had to take time off from work and studies. The physical and financial toll has been heavy. Medical bills continue to pile up. But despite it all, I don’t give up. I’m more determined than ever to complete my education, become a teacher, and build a better life for myself and my son. My mother’s sacrifices—and the strength she showed during her illness—remain a constant source of motivation. Her belief in education and her resilience shaped who I am today. She taught me to be strong, resourceful, and never lose sight of what matters most. Her influence is one of the biggest reasons I’m still on this path, even after years of detours. Equally powerful were the teachers who believed in me. Their voices echo in my memory. Their patience, encouragement, and guidance helped me feel valued and capable. They showed me what a profound impact a teacher can have on a child’s life. I want to be that person for my students. As I work toward becoming an educator, I carry the lessons I’ve learned from both my mother and my teachers. I want to create a classroom that’s not just about academics, but about belonging. A space where every child—regardless of their background, abilities, or struggles—feels seen, heard, and respected. I also want to incorporate my creativity into the classroom. Whether through art, music, movement, or hands-on activities, I believe learning should be engaging, multisensory, and joyful. I want to encourage students to explore who they are, discover their talents, and develop a love for learning that lasts a lifetime. Beyond the classroom, I hope to serve the broader community. I want to advocate for inclusive education, support family engagement, and bring arts-based programs to under-resourced schools. I want to give back in every way I can—just as my educators and my mother once gave to me. This path has not been easy. My journey has been marked by hardship, uncertainty, and long pauses. But I believe that everything I’ve experienced—immigration, caregiving, motherhood, personal and professional challenges—has prepared me to be a more compassionate, resourceful, and effective educator. I want to be the kind of teacher who makes a lasting difference—not just in students’ test scores, but in their confidence and self-worth. I want to teach my students that they are capable of achieving great things. I want to help them see that they matter. At the center of it all is my son. I want to set an example for him—to show him that dreams are worth chasing, that it’s never too late to start again, and that perseverance pays off. I want him to see that his mother believed in something bigger than herself and never gave up. So, who had the most profound impact on my decision to work in education? My mother, who taught me the power of resilience and love. And my teachers, who believed in me and lit the spark that never went out. Their influence continues to guide me every day as I work toward becoming the kind of educator I once needed—and the kind every child deserves.

My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I’m a proud Polish-born New Yorker, a dedicated mother, and a lifelong learner with a deep passion for education, creativity, and community. My journey has been anything but linear, but every twist and turn has brought me closer to my dream of becoming an elementary school teacher—someone who nurtures, uplifts, and inspires young minds. I spent the first part of my life in Poland, where I was raised with strong values around education, hard work, and the arts. After high school, I enrolled in Preparatory Teachers College with the goal of becoming an elementary educator. Teaching was always my calling—I admired my own teachers deeply and aspired to give back to society in the same way they gave to me. But life intervened. When my mother became ill, I made the difficult decision to move to the United States to support her both emotionally and financially. Leaving behind everything familiar and starting over in New York City was incredibly challenging. After my mother recovered, I enrolled in college here, but out of fear of academic difficulties and language barriers, I switched my major to Fine Arts. Art had always been my second love. I'm a mosaic artist with over 14 years of experience. I also danced ballroom and hip-hop for ten years, and I find joy in painting, music, and cinematography. My creativity has been a lifeline and an outlet during both joyful and difficult times. Despite personal setbacks, including a divorce and becoming a single mom to my incredible son, Jakub, I never gave up on my dream of becoming a teacher. During the pandemic, after being laid off, I took time to reflect and realized it was finally time to return to my true path. I enrolled at WGU to earn my degree in Elementary Education, and while the road has been rocky—including a recent skin cancer diagnosis and surgery—I continue to move forward with resilience and purpose. I believe I should be selected for this scholarship not just because of my perseverance, but because of the unique perspective and passion I bring to the field of education. As an immigrant, artist, and mother, I understand the importance of empathy, creativity, and resilience—qualities I aim to bring into my future classroom. My life experiences have taught me the value of hard work and the power of believing in oneself. As a teacher, I want to create a learning environment that celebrates every child’s background and potential. I plan to use art, movement, and multisensory learning to help students engage in meaningful ways. I also want to serve as a role model—especially for students who may feel unseen or unheard. My goal is to empower children to believe in their abilities, embrace their individuality, and understand that their voice matters. Beyond the classroom, I hope to give back to the community by organizing arts programs and family engagement nights in under-resourced schools. I want to advocate for inclusive education and mental health awareness, both of which are close to my heart. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of continuing my education—especially in light of ongoing medical bills—but would also bring me one step closer to a lifelong dream I’ve fought hard to reclaim. I want to show my son, and my future students, that it’s never too late to pursue your passion and make a difference. With your support, I will become the educator I was always meant to be—and in doing so, I hope to positively impact the lives of many children and families for years to come.

My journey toward becoming a teacher has been shaped by a deep personal connection to education and the transformative impact it can have on a child’s life. I come to this profession not only with passion, but with lived experience—as a former child in need of support, as an immigrant adapting to a new world, as a mother raising a son on her own, and as someone who has continually fought to turn adversity into purpose. These experiences have instilled in me a profound understanding of how education can uplift individuals and strengthen communities. Growing up in Poland, my early years were filled with love for learning, especially reading and literature. However, when I was just eleven, my father left our family, and my mother had to work multiple jobs to support us. I often felt emotionally and academically unsupported—until one literature teacher stepped into my life and became a guiding light. Her classroom was more than a place of learning; it became a safe haven where I was seen and heard. Her kindness and encouragement stayed with me long after I left her class and inspired my desire to one day be that kind of teacher for others. Today, I am pursuing a degree in Elementary Education because I want to offer that same kind of support, especially in under-resourced and culturally diverse communities like the one I now call home in New York City. As an immigrant and single mother, I understand the struggles many families face—navigating language barriers, economic hardship, and a lack of access to consistent educational support. I want to be an advocate for these families and a steady presence for their children. My goal as a teacher is to create a classroom environment where all students feel safe, respected, and inspired to grow. I believe that academic learning thrives in a space where emotional needs are also met. I plan to use my education not only to deliver strong instruction but to foster inclusive and culturally responsive classrooms. I want every student—regardless of their background—to see themselves reflected in the curriculum, to feel their voice matters, and to know that their experiences are valid and valuable. Beyond the classroom, I plan to engage deeply with the community by building partnerships with families and local organizations. I want to bridge the gap between home and school by offering workshops, open communication, and collaborative events that celebrate culture and community. I believe that when educators work hand-in-hand with families, students benefit the most. My own journey has shown me that education is most powerful when it is shared and supported collectively. My background in the arts also plays a vital role in how I intend to serve my community. With a degree in Fine Arts and over 14 years of experience as a mosaic artist, I want to integrate creativity and self-expression into my teaching. Art has the power to heal, to connect, and to teach. I hope to use creative projects as a way to help students explore their identities, build confidence, and develop critical thinking skills. Pursuing higher education is more than a personal goal—it is the key to unlocking my ability to give back meaningfully. Through teaching, I aim to empower the next generation with the tools they need to believe in themselves and shape their own futures. My education will be a bridge—between struggle and opportunity, between generations, and between individuals and their potential. By becoming a teacher, I am not just fulfilling a dream—I am committing myself to a lifelong mission of service, growth, and impact.

Why I Am Pursuing a Career in Teaching My desire to become a teacher is rooted in personal experience, shaped by both hardship and the transformative power of education. I first realized the impact of teaching as a teenager in Poland, nervously reading to children at a community center. Though my hands trembled, I saw the joy on their faces and felt an undeniable connection. In that moment, I discovered that teaching wasn’t just about sharing knowledge—it was about making others feel seen, heard, and valued. My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I am a 42-year-old single mother to a wonderful son, Jakub. I was raised in Poland in a home where education was a high priority. My father, who did not have the opportunity to attend college, pushed me to achieve what he could not. However, when I was eleven, he left our family, and my mother had to take on multiple jobs to support us. Emotionally and academically, I often felt alone—until one of my teachers stepped in. Her kindness and encouragement helped me find strength during a difficult time, and her classroom became a place of refuge. She made me feel like I mattered. That is the kind of teacher I aspire to be—someone who makes a lasting difference in a child’s life. Though I started college in Poland, my studies were interrupted when I moved to the United States to join my mother. Life in a new country required me to adapt quickly. I earned an Associate’s Degree in Fine Arts, became a mosaic artist, and worked for over fourteen years. Life brought many ups and downs—marriage, divorce, parenthood, financial struggles, and even a skin cancer diagnosis. But through it all, my passion for teaching never wavered. When I lost my job during the COVID-19 pandemic, I chose to see that moment as an opportunity to finally pursue my dream. I enrolled in an Elementary Education program and began the path I had waited years to follow. Teaching, to me, is more than a profession—it is a calling. It’s a chance to give back, to be the steady presence and guiding hand that I once needed. I want to work in classrooms where children face challenges similar to those I experienced—whether economic, emotional, or cultural. As an immigrant and someone who has lived in diverse communities, I also value inclusivity and empathy. I aim to build classrooms where every student feels respected and inspired, regardless of their background. I am pursuing a career in teaching because I believe in the power of education to change lives. I’ve lived that truth myself. I want to be a role model for my son and for my students—a reminder that perseverance, kindness, and learning can overcome even the most difficult circumstances. Becoming a teacher is my way of giving back, paying forward the support I once received, and helping the next generation discover their strength and potential.

A Journey of Resilience and Purpose: Pursuing Higher Education to Serve and Inspire My journey toward higher education has been anything but traditional. Born and raised in Poland, I was shaped by both cultural expectations and personal adversity. From an early age, education was instilled in me as a pathway to a better future—an aspiration my parents never had the chance to pursue themselves. But my path was not straightforward. At eleven, my father left our family, and my mother worked multiple jobs to support us, leaving little time or energy for emotional support. It was during this difficult period that I found encouragement and stability through my teachers—especially one compassionate literature teacher whose classroom became a safe haven. Her belief in me changed my life. That experience planted the seed of a dream: to one day become a teacher who could offer that same hope to others. At fifteen, my mother immigrated to the United States, and I remained in Poland to finish high school and begin college. The years that followed were filled with uncertainty as I navigated between two countries. Eventually, I joined my mother in New York City and tried to rebuild my life in a new language and culture. My dream of becoming a teacher had to wait as I adapted to the realities of surviving in a new country. I earned an Associate’s Degree in Fine Arts, worked as a mosaic artist for over fourteen years, and became a mother. Life brought challenges—divorce, single parenthood, financial hardship, and even a skin cancer diagnosis—but through it all, my passion for education never faded. When the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted everything, it also gave me clarity. After being laid off, I saw an opportunity not to retreat, but to finally pursue what I had long set aside. I enrolled in an Elementary Education program, balancing coursework with raising my son. It hasn’t been easy, but it has been deeply fulfilling. These life experiences have shaped my core values: resilience, compassion, and the belief in the power of education to transform lives. They have also solidified my career goal of becoming an elementary school teacher in underserved communities—spaces where students may not always have the resources or support they need at home, just as I once didn’t. I understand the struggles many of these children face because I’ve lived them. My background as an immigrant and my exposure to diverse cultures in New York City have also helped me grow into a more empathetic and inclusive person. I plan to use my education not just to teach, but to build trusting relationships with families, create culturally responsive classrooms, and nurture every child's sense of self-worth. To me, teaching is a form of community service—one of the most meaningful ways to give back. I want to help my students feel seen, heard, and capable of greatness, just as my teachers once helped me. Receiving this scholarship would provide critical support in helping me continue my education while caring for my son. It would ease financial burdens and allow me to focus more fully on my studies and field experiences. But more importantly, it would bring me one step closer to achieving my dream of becoming an educator who uplifts her students and strengthens her community. Higher education is not just a personal goal—it is my way of turning struggle into purpose, and using my story to inspire and empower the next generation.

Finding Meaning Through Resilience – My Journey to Becoming a Teacher My journey toward becoming a teacher began years ago, not in a classroom of my own, but as a nervous teenager reading to children at a community center in Poland. I was anxious, my hands shaking, but the joy on the children’s faces as I brought the stories to life lit a spark in me. In that small moment, I realized the power of connection through teaching—it wasn’t just about delivering knowledge, but about being present and making others feel seen. Even then, I sensed that education would be my path. My name is Monika Wojnarowska. I'm a 42-year-old single mother to a wonderful son named Jakub. I was born and raised in Poland, where academic success was a priority in my household, particularly for my father, who encouraged me to achieve what he and my mother hadn’t—a college degree. I always loved school, especially literature and learning new things. But everything changed when I was eleven and my father left. My mother worked multiple jobs to keep us afloat, which meant I had little emotional or academic support at home. During that challenging time, my teachers became my anchor. One literature teacher in particular showed me kindness and encouragement. Her belief in me helped me find confidence and gave me a sense of belonging. Her classroom felt like a refuge, and the impact she had on me inspired my desire to be that kind of support for others. I’ve never forgotten the way she made me feel, and I hope to give that same sense of worth to my future students. When I was fifteen, my mother moved to the U.S. seeking better opportunities, while I remained in Poland to finish high school and begin college. However, the constant back-and-forth between the two countries eventually disrupted my education. I later joined my mother in New York City, leaving behind everything familiar. Adapting to a new culture and language was difficult, and my dream of teaching had to be put on hold. In time, I earned an Associate’s Degree in Fine Arts, became a mosaic artist, and worked consistently for over fourteen years. Life took many turns—I got married, divorced, and became a mother. Yet through all of it, the desire to teach never left me. When the COVID-19 pandemic led to job loss, I took it as a sign to finally chase that long-held dream. I enrolled in an Elementary Education program while continuing to raise my son on my own. The road has not been easy. I’ve faced a cancer diagnosis, financial stress, and the demands of single parenthood. But my passion for teaching has remained my guiding force. I want to be a role model for my son—to show him that learning and perseverance are lifelong pursuits. As an immigrant and someone raised in a traditional environment, living in New York City has opened my eyes to the richness of diversity. Engaging with people from many different backgrounds has made me more compassionate and culturally sensitive. I believe these qualities will help me create a welcoming and inclusive classroom, where every child feels valued and understood. I aspire to build a space where students thrive not just academically, but emotionally—a place where families feel respected and children feel inspired. I want to show my students that their voices matter, just as my teachers once showed me. Teaching is more than a profession for me. It is a calling deeply tied to my personal journey. I am committed to bringing empathy, resilience, and dedication into the classroom, and to helping every student realize their own strength and potential.

Finding Purpose Through Perseverance - Why I Chose to Teach. The first time I stood in front of a classroom was not as a teacher, but as a nervous teenager reading aloud to younger children at a community center in Poland. My hands trembled, but I remember how their faces lit up when I read with warmth and energy. That simple moment sparked something in me—a desire not just to teach, but to connect and make others feel seen. Even then, I knew I wanted to be an educator. My name is Monika Wojnarowska. I am a 42-year-old single mother to an incredible son named Jakub. I was born and raised in Poland, where my father placed a strong emphasis on education. I was expected to excel and pursue college, something my parents hadn’t been able to do. I loved school, especially reading and learning new things. But when I was eleven, my father left our family. My mother worked tirelessly to provide for us, often holding multiple jobs, which left little time to support me emotionally or academically. It was my teachers who stepped in to fill that gap. One teacher in particular—a kind and encouraging literature teacher—recognized my potential and made me feel valued. Her classroom became my safe space during difficult times. She reminded me that my voice mattered, and her support stayed with me long after I left her classroom. That kind of lasting impact is what I hope to one day have on my own students. At age fifteen, my mother immigrated to the United States in search of better opportunities. I stayed behind and completed high school in Poland, then began college. However, frequent travel between Poland and the U.S. disrupted my studies. Eventually, I joined my mother in New York City, leaving behind everything I knew. Life in a new country was challenging, and my dream of becoming a teacher had to wait. Over time, I earned an Associate’s Degree in Fine Arts, became a mosaic artist, and worked steadily for over fourteen years. I also got married, divorced, and became a mother. Through it all, my desire to teach never faded. When the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted our lives, I was laid off, and I saw that moment as a second chance to finally pursue my dream. I am now studying Elementary Education while continuing to raise my son. It has not been an easy road—I’ve also faced a skin cancer diagnosis and financial hardship—but my passion for education continues to drive me forward. I want to be an example to my son: that hard work, resilience, and learning never stop. As an immigrant and someone who grew up in a culturally conservative environment, moving to New York opened my eyes to the beauty of diversity. Living and working alongside people from different backgrounds has taught me to be more empathetic and culturally aware. I believe this will make me a more inclusive and effective teacher. I want my classroom to be a space where students of all backgrounds feel supported and inspired. I want to build strong relationships with families, foster mutual respect, and create an environment where learning is joyful and meaningful. More than anything, I want my students to know that their stories matter—just as my teachers once helped me believe in mine. Teaching is more than a career goal—it’s a calling rooted in my life story. I am ready to bring compassion, understanding, and determination into the classroom and to help every student discover their own strength and potential.

The first time I stood in front of a classroom was not as a teacher, but as a scared teenager reading to a group of younger children at a community center in Poland. My palms were sweaty, my voice shook—but I remember the way their eyes lit up when I read with warmth and emotion. That moment sparked something in me. Even then, I knew I wanted to become an educator—not just to teach, but to connect, inspire, and make others feel seen. My name is Monika Wojnarowska, and I’m a 42-year-old single mother to an incredible boy named Jakub. Our journey together has been shaped by sacrifice, perseverance, and resilience. I was born and raised in Poland, but my life took a major turn at age 15 when my mother moved to the U.S. seeking better opportunities. Left behind, I had to grow up fast. Eventually, I made the move to New York myself to support her during an illness, setting aside my education and dreams in the process. Despite the hardships, I never let go of the vision I had as a young girl. I enrolled in a Preparatory Teachers College, but life’s challenges forced me to pivot. In New York, I earned a degree in Fine Arts while working as a mosaic artist for over 14 years. Art became my bridge between cultures, emotions, and people. During that time, I experienced marriage, divorce, motherhood—and through it all, my dream of becoming an educator never left me. When COVID-19 turned the world upside down, I was laid off. But rather than seeing that as a setback, I saw it as a second chance. With time to reflect, I finally committed to pursuing a degree in Elementary Education. It hasn’t been an easy road—especially after a skin cancer diagnosis and the financial burdens that followed—but I refuse to give up. Every challenge has strengthened my resolve. I believe that my life experiences—navigating immigration, single parenthood, illness, and cultural shifts—have uniquely equipped me to build a more empathetic and understanding global community. As a future educator, I will use my past not as baggage but as a toolkit. I know how to recognize children who are struggling, even when they don’t say a word. I know how to listen deeply, create inclusive spaces, and lead with compassion. By becoming a teacher, I am not just fulfilling a lifelong dream—I am committing to shaping the next generation with kindness, patience, and empathy. I want my son to see that education isn’t just about academics; it’s about heart. It’s about building a world where every child, no matter their background, feels valued. I am determined to be the kind of educator who not only teaches math or reading but who sees the whole child—their story, their struggles, and their strengths. With this degree, I will turn every classroom I enter into a safe space where empathy is just as important as the lesson plan. And one day, when my students go out into the world, I hope they will carry that same spirit forward, multiplying empathy far beyond what I could ever do alone.