Sobriety and recovery have shaped my life long before I ever understood the words. I grew up watching addiction move quietly through my family through both of my grandfathers, through uncles, cousins, and people I loved deeply. I learned early what it meant to walk into a family gathering and already know who had been drinking, who had smoked, and who was using substances to cope with pain they never learned how to name. Addiction was not a distant concept; it was woven into the fabric of both sides of my family, passed down through generations who were taught that drinking and smoking were normal, expected, and sometimes necessary to survive the weight of their experiences. I remember being introduced to alcohol as a child taking a sip of a shot, tasting beer, trying wine. For many people in my family, those small sips were the beginning of lifelong habits. But for me, they became lessons. I saw what addiction did to my grandfathers, how it stole years from them, how it dimmed their potential, and how it shaped the way they parented and lived. Both were veterans, born in the 1940s and 1950s, carrying trauma from war, racism, poverty, and years of generational silence while raising their own kids. Their addictions were not simply choices they were coping mechanisms for wounds they never received help for. Understanding that changed the way I viewed addiction. It made me see it not as a moral failure, but as a human struggle. Watching addiction up close taught me what I never wanted for myself. I do not want to be someone who needs a drink to get through the day, who pours a glass of wine every night after work, or who depends on substances to feel okay. I want to enjoy alcohol socially, occasionally, intentionally but never as an escape. I want to break the cycle I witnessed. I want to choose clarity over numbness, healing over avoidance, and courage over despair. These experiences shaped my purpose. They are the reason I am pursuing a career in social work, specifically as a medical social worker in psychiatric and pediatric units. I want to work with families who are navigating addiction, trauma, mental health challenges, and generational cycles that feel impossible to break. I want to be the person who sits with a child whose parent is struggling, who supports a teenager trying to stay sober, or who helps a family understand that recovery is possible even when it feels out of reach. Sobriety whether my own or my loved ones has taught me that healing is not linear. It is a choice made over and over again. It is a form of courage. And it is the foundation of the life I am building. Bishop Mozell Haymon believed that “life begins with sobriety,” and I have seen the truth of that in my family. Sobriety creates space for growth, for stability, for love, and for second chances. Recovery gives people the opportunity to rewrite their story. With my education, I intend to help others rewrite theirs. After earning my bachelor’s degree, I plan to complete a one‑year advanced standing MSW program and obtain my LCSW. My long‑term goal is to create a foundation called Mya on a Mission, supporting families affected by addiction, trauma, and poverty. I want to honor the legacy of people like Dr. Haymon people who believed in second chances, education, and the power of recovery. Sobriety shaped my family. It shaped me. And it shaped the future I am determined to build.

Gifted children often move through the world with a depth of sensitivity and awareness that others overlook. They feel intensely, think creatively, and notice injustices that many adults fail to see. Children like Lieba bright, intuitive, compassionate, and courageous remind us that giftedness is not only measured by intellect, but by empathy, imagination, and moral clarity. As a senior social work major at Tuskegee University, I am committed to building a career that protects, uplifts, and nurtures children who are gifted, misunderstood, or marginalized. My goal is to become a medical social worker specializing in pediatric and psychiatric care, serving children whose emotional and intellectual needs are often misinterpreted or overlooked. Growing up, I learned early that kindness is a form of courage. I was the child who spoke up when someone was being teased, who defended classmates who were different, and who felt the weight of other people’s emotions even when I didn’t have the words to explain it. When I couldn’t express myself verbally, I wrote poems, songs, and stories to release what I was feeling. I colored, watched movies, and solved crossword puzzles to calm my mind. These small parts of my personality shaped my empathy and taught me how powerful it is when someone steps in to protect a child who cannot protect themselves. When I read about Lieba standing on a chair to defend a friend, speaking up for a girl with Down Syndrome. I saw a reflection of the advocate I strive to be. Her courage mirrors the kind of social worker I hope to become someone who speaks up, stands firm, and protects those who are vulnerable. Gifted children often struggle socially because their minds and hearts operate at a different frequency. They may be intellectually advanced but emotionally sensitive, or creatively brilliant but socially isolated. Many are mislabeled as “too emotional,” “too intense,” “too different,” or “too smart for their own good.” In psychiatric and pediatric settings, these children are even more vulnerable. Their needs require professionals who understand the complexity of giftedness its strengths, its challenges, and its emotional depth. My work will center on helping gifted children feel safe, understood, and valued for who they are. As a future medical social worker, I plan to create environments where gifted children feel safe expressing themselves without fear of judgment. In hospital settings, I want to advocate for trauma‑informed care that recognizes how giftedness intersects with anxiety, depression, sensory sensitivity, and social struggles. I want to help families understand their children’s emotional world, provide resources that support their intellectual growth, and ensure that gifted children receive care that honors their whole identity not just their symptoms. My goal is to be the person who sits beside them in their hardest moments and helps them find stability, hope, and healing. After earning my bachelor’s degree, I plan to complete a one‑year advanced standing MSW program and then obtain my LCSW. These steps will allow me to provide specialized therapy and clinical support. I want to design programs that integrate creativity, emotional regulation, and intellectual stimulation spaces where children can write, draw, build, imagine, and explore freely. Gifted children thrive when their minds are challenged and their hearts are understood. I want to build therapeutic approaches that do both. Beyond my clinical work, I dream of creating a foundation called Mya on a Mission, dedicated to supporting vulnerable children and families. Part of this mission will include programs specifically for gifted youth mentorship circles, creative arts therapy workshops, social‑emotional learning groups, and advocacy initiatives that protect children from bullying, discrimination, and misunderstanding. I want to partner with schools, hospitals, and community organizations to ensure that gifted children have access to resources that nurture both their intellect and their emotional well‑being. My foundation will also support causes that reflect my values: reproductive rights, affordable housing, accessible healthcare, free school lunches, and dignity for people facing homelessness, disability, or social stigma. Children like Lieba remind us that giftedness is not only about intelligence it is about compassion, creativity, and moral clarity. My career will honor that legacy by ensuring that gifted children are not punished for their sensitivity, ignored because of their differences, or misunderstood because of their brilliance. They deserve professionals who see their potential, protect their hearts, and help them navigate a world that often struggles to understand them. I am committed to being one of those professionals. Lieba stood up for others because she understood something simple yet profound: every child deserves dignity. Every child deserves kindness. Every child deserves to be seen. Through my work in social work, I will carry her legacy forward nurturing harmony, pursue justice, and create spaces where gifted children can grow into the extraordinary adults they are meant to become.

My name is Mya Sears, and I am a 21‑year‑old senior social work major at Tuskegee University, graduating in May 2027. I come from a low/middle‑income class background, but I carry big dreams, a deep sense of purpose, and a commitment to building a career centered on care, compassion, and justice. I am someone who drinks coffee every morning, loves crossword puzzles, writes poems and songs when words feel too heavy to speak, and finds comfort in the color purple, horses, elephants, quiet joy of coloring, and cooking or baking when I can. These small pieces of who I am shape the larger vision I have for the world and the impact I hope to make. I am a person who dreams of driving a Jeep Wrangler one day, who hopes to travel to Japan, who loves Converse shoes and Olipop sodas but beneath all of that, I am someone who wants to make the world better. I want my career to reflect kindness, courage, and service. I want to honor people like Robert F. Lawson, who dedicated his life to helping others, by continuing that mission in my own way. My journey into social work began with a simple truth: I want to help people feel safe, supported, and seen. At Tuskegee University an institution rooted in service, resilience, and leadership I learned that helping others is not just an act, but a lifelong commitment. My goal is to become a medical social worker in a hospital setting, specializing in psychiatric and pediatric care. I want to work with women, children, and families who are navigating trauma, mental health challenges, or medical crises. I want to be the person who sits beside them in their hardest moments and helps them find stability, hope, and healing. After earning my bachelor’s degree, I plan to complete a one‑year advanced standing MSW program either at University of Georgia or Georgia State University and then obtain my LCSW. These steps will allow me to serve more effectively, advocate more powerfully, and support families with the highest level of professional care. But my dreams extend beyond my career. The future I am building a future centered on care, advocacy, and creating opportunities for those who need them most. One day, when I am able to fund it myself, I want to create a foundation called "Mya on a Mission" a nonprofit dedicated to supporting communities through direct aid, advocacy, and resource access. I want to donate to causes that matter deeply to me: reproductive rights/women rights/abortions, affordable housing, accessible healthcare, free or reduced‑cost groceries, free period products and birth control, and free school lunches from Pre‑K through graduate school. I want to support veterans who deserve more financial security after serving, and I want to push for a minimum wage that reflects the true cost of living. I believe everyone deserves a home, dignity, and the chance to live without shame whether they are struggling with addiction, disability, homelessness, or simply trying to survive in an economy that often overlooks them. My first time voting was for Kamala Harris, and it was meaningful to me because it represented my belief in educated, compassionate leadership. That moment helped me understand how deeply I care about justice, representation, and the future of our communities. It strengthened my desire to work in fields that uplift people who are often unheard. This scholarship would support not just my education, but it would at the same time help me pay for the first semester and any housing expenses as an in-state resident of Georgia I would need to cover.

Tuskegee University has not only educated me it has transformed me. As a senior social work major granted with a full‑ride scholarship, I stand on the shoulders of a legacy that demands excellence, resilience, and service. Attending an institution ranked number four among HBCUs and number one in Alabama is more than an honor; it is a daily reminder that I am part of a powerful tradition built by visionaries who refused to accept limitations. Tuskegee has shaped my values, sharpened my ambitions, and ignited a purpose within me that I intend to carry far beyond graduation. Tuskegee’s legacy is alive in every brick, every classroom, every story. Founded in 1881 by Booker T. Washington, the university rose from a one‑room shanty into a national historic site that has shaped the course of American history. The campus itself is a testament to Black excellence: buildings crafted by Robert R. Taylor, the first accredited African American architect; laboratories where George Washington Carver revolutionized agricultural science; museums that preserve the courage of the Tuskegee Airmen and teach the ethical lessons of the Syphilis Study through a commitment to justice and truth. Tuskegee is not simply a place where leaders are taught it is a place where leaders are formed. Being immersed in this environment has reshaped my understanding of leadership. Tuskegee taught me that leadership is not about being seen it is about being responsible. It is about stepping forward when others step back, about serving even when no one is watching, about using your education to open doors for people who have been shut out. My internships, volunteer work, and involvement in youth and community programs have shown me the impact of showing up with empathy, consistency, and courage. Tuskegee strengthened my belief that service is not an act it is a calling. My ambitions have grown because Tuskegee taught me to dream beyond myself. I aspire to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker in a hospital setting, earning my MSW through an advanced standing program at University of Georgia or Georgia State University and eventually becoming an LCSW. I want to advocate for women, children, and families who face barriers rooted in trauma, inequity, or lack of resources. I want to be the person who helps them feel seen, supported, and capable of healing. Tuskegee taught me that social work is not just a profession it is a form of leadership, a form of justice, and a form of love. But my vision extends beyond my career. I hope to expand “Mya on a Mission” into a foundation that empowers youth, supports families, and creates mentorship opportunities for those who need guidance and hope. I want to build programs that reflect Tuskegee’s values: excellence, resilience, innovation, and community uplift. I want to create spaces where young people can discover their potential, where families can find support, and where communities can grow stronger together. My HBCU experience has shaped me into a leader who understands the weight of legacy and the power of purpose. Tuskegee taught me that I am part of a story much bigger than myself and a story written by innovators, educators, scientists, architects, and trailblazers who changed the world with limited resources but unlimited determination. I carry their legacy with pride, and I am committed to continuing it through my work, my service, and the lives I hope to impact. Tuskegee University did not just prepare me for a career. It prepared me to lead, to serve, and to build something that lasts. And that is the legacy I intend to carry forward.

Working with a childlike Rebecca requires more than technical skill it requires patience, creativity, and a genuine commitment to understanding who they are beyond their disability. Rebecca’s story reflects the kind of child who thrives when surrounded by people who take the time to learn her personality, her joys, her fears, and her unique ways of communicating. As a senior social work major at Tuskegee University and a former Registered Behavior Technician (RBT) intern, I have learned firsthand that meaningful progress begins with connection. Children like Rebecca flourish when the adults around them choose to meet them where they are. During my RBT internship at Spectrum Analytic Consulting, I worked under a BCBA with a 17‑year‑old autistic client who was non‑verbal at times. She faced challenges with social settings, hygiene routines, school relationships, and confidence. My role was to support her academically, emotionally, and socially, and I quickly realized that traditional teaching methods were not always effective. Instead of forcing rigid approaches, I adapted to her learning style. To help her read and write, we used games, point systems, and rewards like candy or small items she enjoyed. When she struggled to express her feelings about school or her relationship with her father, I created a safe space where she could communicate in her own way through gestures, writing, or simply sitting quietly until she felt ready. Every breakthrough came from patience, creativity, and a willingness to understand her world rather than impose mine onto hers. If I were working with a childlike Rebecca, I would use the same individualized, strengths‑based approach. I would observe how she communicates, what excites her, what calms her, and what motivates her. I would incorporate her interests into learning activities, use visual supports, sensory tools, and positive reinforcement, and collaborate closely with her educational team to create goals that honor her personality. Most importantly, I would ensure she feels seen, valued, and understood because children like Rebecca deserve educators who celebrate their uniqueness rather than try to change it. Family plays an essential role in the education and progress of disabled children. They are the child’s first support system, their strongest advocates, and the people who know them best. In my RBT work, I learned more about my client through her mother, siblings, and extended family than I ever could have learned alone. Family insight helps educators understand routines, triggers, joys, fears, and communication patterns. When families and educators work together, children receive consistent support across home and school environments, making progress more sustainable and meaningful. I believe in partnering with families, listening to their concerns, and empowering them to be active participants in their child’s growth. I confirm my intent to work in special education, Pre‑K through 12th grade, as part of my long‑term goal of becoming a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I know that the children I will serve will come from all walks of life, and I am committed to supporting disabled children with compassion, cultural competence, and creativity. Regarding my financial need, I am completing my Bachelor of Social Work on a full‑ride scholarship. However, I plan to pursue my Master of Social Work at either the University of Georgia or Georgia State University through a one‑year advanced standing program. Graduate school will require tuition, housing, living expenses, and I hope to avoid taking on significant student loan debt especially entering a profession that is meaningful but not highly paid. This scholarship would help fund my first semester of graduate school and reduce the financial burden that comes with pursuing the advanced training I need to serve people.

As a young Black woman pursuing my Bachelor of Social Work at Tuskegee University, I carry a deep awareness of the systemic challenges that shape the lives of BIPOC women in education, healthcare, and social services. Entering a helping profession historically dominated by white women means stepping into spaces where representation has been limited and choosing to expand it with intention, courage, and authenticity. Tuskegee University an HBCU rooted in excellence, leadership, and empowerment offered me a full‑ride scholarship and a community that looked at me and said, “We believe in you.” That affirmation changed the trajectory of my life. It taught me that when Black women are given resources, support, and opportunity, we do more than succeed we transform the systems around us. I intend to use my social work degree to champion the empowerment and well‑being of BIPOC women as well as children by centering their voices, honoring their lived experiences, and advocating for equitable access to care. My academic record reflects my commitment to excellence, including multiple Dean’s List recognitions, induction into the Phi Alpha Honor Society for Social Work, and a cumulative GPA of 3.7. Coursework in Methods of Social Work Practice I and II, Human Behavior and the Social Environment, Family and Children’s Services, and Research in Human Services has strengthened my understanding of how systemic inequities affect women of color across generations. These classes have prepared me to approach practice with cultural competence, critical thinking, and a justice‑oriented perspective qualities essential for advocating effectively within communities that have historically been marginalized. Beyond the classroom, I have actively served communities through internships and fieldwork that have shaped me into a compassionate, skilled, and culturally responsive practitioner. At The Neighborhood at Auburn, I supported older adults in an assisted living community, building relationships grounded in empathy, respect, and person‑centered care. As a Juvenile Programs Intern with the Douglas County Board of Commissioners, I observed delinquency and dependency court proceedings, assisted with crisis intervention, contributed to youth treatment planning, and connected families with mentoring and community resources. My work as a Registered Behavior Technician Intern allowed me to support children and adolescents with developmental disabilities under BCBA supervision, strengthening my skills in behavioral support, patience, and individualized care. Through the Mayor Lee Harris Youth & Family Resource Center, I became CANS certified, researched community resources, and contributed to youth‑focused programming designed to address systemic barriers and promote safety, stability, and growth. These experiences have sharpened my communication, advocacy, crisis intervention, and collaborative problem‑solving skills while teaching me how to build trust with individuals who have often felt unheard or underserved. They have also affirmed my commitment to becoming a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker a role where I can create safe, affirming spaces for Black women and girls to heal, grow, and thrive. I will advocate for culturally responsive mental health care, challenge inequitable practices, and work to increase representation within the helping professions. The investment Tuskegee University made in me affirmed that my potential was worth believing in, and I intend to honor that investment by becoming a social worker who extends that same belief to others. My mission is to help build a future where BIPOC women are not only supported, but empowered to lead, influence, and transform their community's turning resilience into generational progress and lived experience into collective strength.

I chose to further my education in a STEAM field through social work because every academic, professional, and community experience I have had has shown me how much I value supporting people through challenges. Social work is grounded in behavioral science, human development, and evidence‑based practice, and my résumé reflects the hands‑on experiences that shaped my commitment to this field. Pursuing my bachelor’s degree in social work at Tuskegee University has allowed me to develop strong communication skills, empathy, patience, and cultural competence, all of which are essential for the career I am working toward. My academic achievements, including multiple Dean’s List honors and membership in the Phi Alpha Honor Society in Social Work, demonstrate my dedication to excellence and my drive to grow as a future professional. My internships have played a major role in shaping my passion for social work. At The Neighborhood at Auburn, I support daily operations in an assisted living community serving older adults. I engage residents through conversation, recreational activities, and group programs that promote social connection and well‑being. This role has strengthened my active listening, rapport building, and strengths‑based engagement skills. It has also given me firsthand experience with interdisciplinary teamwork and person‑centered care. Working with older adults has taught me how important it is to create warm, supportive environments where people feel respected, valued, and understood. Before this role, I worked as a Registered Behavior Technician Intern at Spectrum Analytic Consulting. Under the supervision of a BCBA, I implemented individualized treatment plans for children and adolescents with developmental disabilities. I helped clients build communication, social, and daily living skills through Applied Behavior Analysis. This experience taught me patience, consistency, and how to support individuals with diverse needs. It also strengthened my interest in working with children and families in clinical settings and helped me develop skills in behavioral therapy, conflict management, and working with people with disabilities. I also completed two summers as an intern at the Youth & Family Resource Center through Mayor Lee Harris’ Summer Work Experience program. During both summers, I became CANS trained, created spreadsheets, researched community resources, and identified summer activities for youth. These responsibilities helped me develop organizational skills, problem‑solving abilities, and a deeper understanding of how to connect families with the support they need. Working with youth showed me the importance of accessible resources, early intervention, and community‑based support systems. My résumé also reflects a strong foundation of skills that support my work in social services, including active listening, communication, leadership, time management, project management, and experience working with children, families, older adults, and individuals with mental health conditions. I have developed proficiency in Microsoft Office, Canva, support documentation, organization, and client services. These skills help me stay organized in fast‑paced environments and collaborate effectively with clients and professionals. This scholarship would help me continue my education with stability and confidence. As a full‑time student committed to academic excellence, community service, and professional development, financial support would allow me to focus more deeply on my coursework, internships, and preparation for my future career. It would also help me continue building the skills I need to become a licensed clinical social worker, specifically as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I want to support children, families, older adults, and individuals with disabilities through compassionate, evidence‑based care. This scholarship would bring me closer to achieving that goal and allow me to honor Kayla Nicole Monk’s legacy by pursuing my dreams with ambition, purpose, and dedication.

My journey toward a career in the medical field began long before I ever understood what social work truly was. I grew up watching the people around me navigate complex health challenges, mental health conditions, and barriers to care that disproportionately affect people of color. Over time, I realized that I wanted to be part of the solution someone who could stand in the gap, advocate for patients, and help families feel seen, supported, and safe. That calling eventually led me to pursue a bachelor’s degree in social work, where I discovered that my heart belongs in healthcare, specifically as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. My passion for this work was shaped through hands‑on experience. For the past three summers, I worked with children in different settings that taught me patience, empathy, and the importance of individualized care. I spent two summers at the Youth and Family Resource Center, where I supported children and families navigating difficult circumstances. I also worked at Spectrum Analytic Consulting as a registered behavior technician for a 17‑year‑old nonverbal client. That experience changed me. It taught me how to communicate beyond words, how to show compassion through presence, and how to advocate fiercely for someone who cannot advocate for themselves. These internships confirmed that I want to work in a hospital setting, collaborating with nurses, doctors, and interdisciplinary teams to support children and families during their most vulnerable moments. My admiration for nurses is deeply personal. Throughout my own medical journey, I have been cared for by incredible healthcare professionals who treated me with dignity, patience, and genuine compassion. My neurologist, Amy Dempsey, was one of the first providers who made me feel truly understood. My favorite nurse practitioner, Shaleah Prather, has been a consistent source of comfort and reassurance. Their kindness shaped my understanding of what healthcare should feel like human, patient‑centered, and rooted in respect. I am grateful that they are part of my health team, and they inspire the type of caregiver I want to become. I believe that people of color deserve the same quality of care as anyone else not less, not “good enough,” but excellent, equitable, and culturally responsive care. Too often, Black patients are dismissed, unheard, or misdiagnosed. I want to be part of changing that. As a future medical social worker, I hope to bridge the gap between patients and providers, ensuring that families receive the support, resources, and advocacy they need to navigate complex medical systems. My goal is to uplift the voices of those who are often overlooked and to help create healthcare environments where every patient feels safe and valued. Outside of my academic and professional goals, I am deeply passionate about social justice and community empowerment. That passion is the foundation of my nonprofit initiative, "Mya on a Mission". I am currently working through the logistics of building a foundation that will support causes I care about: equal pay, free and accessible healthcare, poverty relief, hunger prevention, clean water access, women’s rights, reproductive care, LGBTQIA+ rights, domestic violence support, substance use recovery, disability advocacy, mental health resources, and more. I want my foundation to provide free formula, feminine products, birth control, contraceptives, and emergency care items. I want it to help fund surgeries, insulin, medications, and scholarships that go directly to students. I want it to support refugees, displaced families, and individuals without documentation. My vision is big, but so is my heart and I believe that compassion paired with action can change lives. What brings me joy outside of my studies is knowing that I am working toward something meaningful. Advocacy gives me purpose. Helping others gives me balance. And dreaming of a world where basic needs are not privileges but rights gives me hope. I am a kind person at my core, and I believe that my heart naturally leads me to speak up, show up, and fight for the causes that matter. Pursuing a career in the medical field is not just a professional goal for me it is a calling shaped by lived experience, compassionate mentors, and a deep desire to serve. I want to be the kind of caregiver who lifts others through their hardest moments, just as so many nurses and licensed healthcare professionals have done for me.

My passion for supporting African American women impacted by domestic violence and substance abuse comes from what I have witnessed both in my family and in the world around me. I have watched my sister survive a painful and dangerous relationship with her son’s father, and I have seen how fear, shame, and limited resources can trap women in cycles of harm. I also grew up hearing stories about both of my grandfathers and my uncle battling alcoholism, and how addiction quietly shaped the emotional landscape of my family. These experiences made me deeply aware of how trauma can pass from one generation to the next when support systems fail. Beyond my family, I am constantly confronted with the reality of violence against women in the news. Far too often, I see stories of women murdered by their husbands or boyfriends, sometimes along with their children. Many of these tragedies end in homicide‑suicide, and each time I see another headline, I feel the weight of how common and devastating this reality is. It is heartbreaking to witness, but even more painful to know that countless women suffer in silence long before their stories ever reach the public. Seeing these patterns repeatedly has strengthened my commitment to becoming part of the solution. Understanding these experiences, especially within African American communities where domestic violence is more likely to go unreported, pushed me toward social work. My own mental health journey, including receiving diagnoses I long suspected, deepened my empathy and strengthened my desire to advocate for women who are often overlooked or unheard. As an African American woman pursuing a career in social services, I want to help create safer pathways, trauma‑informed care, and culturally responsive support so that Black women impacted by violence or addiction can heal, rebuild, and reclaim futures.

Selflessness has always been a natural part of who I am. I have never needed a title, recognition, or reward to help someone I simply care about people, even when I do not know them personally. Kindness has always been in my heart, and throughout my life, I have tried to show others the same compassion that has been shown to me. Whether I am supporting children, uplifting families, or caring for older adults, I believe in showing up for people in ways that make their lives a little easier and their burdens a little lighter. My commitment to helping others began long before college, but it grew stronger through my community work in Memphis, Tennessee. For two summers, I served as a Youth & Family Resource Center Intern under Mayor Lee Harris’ Summer Work Experience program. During this time, I helped set up youth tables, organized community resources, and visited recreation centers to pass out information about the diversion program for youth ages 10–17. Many of the young people I met were facing challenges far bigger than their age and being able to connect them with programs that could redirect their path was meaningful to me. I learned that sometimes selflessness is simply being present showing up in neighborhoods, offering guidance, and making sure families know they are not alone. My desire to help others continued when I became a Registered Behavior Technician Intern with Spectrum Analytic Consulting. I worked closely with a 17‑year‑old nonverbal client with developmental disabilities. Supporting him required patience, empathy, and a willingness to understand his world beyond words. I helped him practice daily living skills, communication strategies, and routines that many people take for granted. This experience taught me that selflessness often means slowing down, listening differently, and meeting people exactly where they are. It also strengthened my passion for working with youth who have disabilities and deserve care that honors their dignity. Service has also been a major part of my college experience. During my freshman and sophomore years at Tuskegee University, I served on the Skegee Service Committee, where I helped set up campus events and supported initiatives that brought students together. These experiences showed me how small acts setting up tables, organizing supplies, welcoming participants can create meaningful community spaces. Most recently, my internship at an assisted living facility allowed me to support elderly residents and their families. I assisted with assessments, engaged residents in conversation and activities, and provided companionship to individuals who often just needed someone to listen. Many residents shared stories of their lives, losses, and hopes, and I learned how powerful it is to offer comfort simply by being present. Helping older adults reminded me that selflessness is not always about solving a problem it is about honoring someone’s humanity. Across every experience, my motivation has remained the same: I want people to feel seen, supported, and valued. I believe selflessness is not defined by one moment but by a pattern of choosing compassion, even when no one is watching. I hope to continue living out these values in my future career as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, where I can advocate for children, families, and communities in need.

My journey as a social work student has been shaped by a deep commitment to service, a passion for supporting vulnerable communities, and a clear vision for the impact I want to make in the world. As an upcoming senior at Tuskegee University majoring in Social Work, I have dedicated my academic and professional experiences to preparing for a career centered on healing, advocacy, and empowerment. My educational and professional goals are rooted in a desire to uplift children, families, and underserved populations, and my commitment to civic and public service has guided every step I have taken so far. Throughout my time at Tuskegee University, I have worked hard to excel academically and uphold the values of the social work profession. My dedication to learning and service led to my induction into the Phi Alpha Honor Society in Social Work, an organization that fosters high standards of education for social workers and invites into membership those who have attained excellence in scholarship and achievement in social work. This recognition reflects my commitment to becoming a knowledgeable, ethical, and compassionate social work professional. After earning my bachelor’s degree in May 2027, I plan to immediately pursue a one‑year advanced standing Master of Social Work (MSW) program. Completing my MSW is essential to my long‑term goal of becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW). Once I complete my graduate degree, I will take the licensure exam and begin working in the field for the required 3–5 years to gain supervised clinical experience. My ultimate goal is to work in a hospital setting as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, supporting children and adolescents facing medical, emotional, and psychological challenges. I want to be the person who helps families navigate difficult diagnoses, provides crisis intervention, advocates for treatment plans, and ensures that no child feels alone during their most vulnerable moments. My professional experiences have already given me a strong foundation for this path. As a Student Intern at The Neighborhood at Auburn, I support daily operations in an assisted living community and engage residents through conversation, activities, and person‑centered care. My résumé notes that I “practice core social work skills, including active listening, rapport building, empathy, and strengths‑based engagement” and “observe interdisciplinary teamwork within a residential care setting.” This role has strengthened my communication skills, patience, and ability to build trust qualities that are essential in clinical social work. My previous experience as a Registered Behavior Technician Intern at Spectrum Analytic Consulting also prepared me for my future career. In this role, I delivered ABA therapy to children and adolescents with developmental disabilities under the supervision of a BCBA. I implemented individualized treatment plans aimed at improving communication, social skills, and daily living abilities. This experience taught me how to support children with diverse needs and reinforced my passion for working with youth in therapeutic settings. My commitment to civic and public service is not something I discovered in college it has been a defining part of my life for years. Through Mayor Lee Harris’ Summer Work Experience in both 2023 and 2024, I served as a Youth & Family Resource Center Intern in Memphis, Tennessee. During these summers, I completed CANS training, researched community resources for youth and caregivers, created spreadsheets to support case management, and identified summer programs for children. As my résumé states, I also worked on “researching other tools about how we can combat curfew which can help youth.” These experiences taught me the importance of community‑based interventions, youth empowerment, and accessible support systems. Beyond my formal roles, I am committed to building a legacy of service through my future foundation, "Mya on a Mission". This foundation will be funded personally by me and will focus on causes I deeply care about mental health access, youth empowerment, disability advocacy, and community wellness. My goal is to create programs, resources, and initiatives that uplift communities globally, especially those who are often overlooked or underserved. I want my foundation to reflect the values that have guided my life: compassion, advocacy, and a belief in the power of collective care. Ultimately, my educational and professional goals are inseparable from my commitment to public service. Social work is not just a career path for me it is a calling. Every internship, every class, every volunteer experience, and every challenge I have faced has strengthened my desire to serve others. I am determined to use my education, my lived experiences, and my passion to make a meaningful difference in the lives of children, families, and communities. With the support of the ESOF Academic Scholarship, I will be one step closer to achieving these goals and continuing my mission to create a more compassionate and equitable world.

Economic empowerment and business innovation are powerful tools for uplifting underrepresented communities, and my vision for creating lasting change is rooted in using these tools to expand access, opportunity, and support for people who are often overlooked. While I am not a business major, I am a Social Work major at an HBCU who plans to build a nonprofit foundation called “Mya on a Mission.” My goal is to combine social impact with sustainable business practices to create programs that support mental health, youth development, family stability, and community wellness. I believe that social change does not only come from policy or advocacy it also comes from building organizations, resources, and systems that empower people economically and emotionally. To me, economic empowerment means giving people the tools to build stability and independence. Many underrepresented communities face barriers that limit access to healthcare, education, financial resources, and mental health support. These barriers create cycles that are hard to break without intentional investment and innovation. Through my future foundation, I want to create programs that help families access resources, connect individuals to services, and provide support that strengthens both emotional well‑being and economic stability. When people have access to support systems, they are better able to pursue education, maintain employment, and build generational progress. Business innovation also plays a major role in creating lasting change. Innovation is not just about technology it is about finding new ways to solve old problems. As a future pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, I plan to work alongside doctors, nurses, and other licensed healthcare professionals in hospital and clinic settings. I want to bring a fresh perspective to the healthcare field by creating programs that bridge the gap between mental health support and community resources. My long‑term vision is to use my foundation to partner with schools, clinics, and community organizations to offer workshops, support groups, and educational programs that address mental health stigma, financial stress, and family challenges. Even though my degree is in social work, my goals align with the mission of economic empowerment because strong communities require both emotional and financial stability. Social equity and justice cannot exist without access to care, access to information, and access to opportunities. My foundation will operate with a business mindset that focuses on sustainability, long‑term impact, and community‑centered growth. I want to build something that lasts, something that continues to serve people long after I begin my career in medical social work. This scholarship would directly support my ability to pursue my master’s degree, earn my licensure, and continue my education without being held back by financial barriers. Even though I am on a full‑ride Presidential Scholarship at Tuskegee University, there are still out‑of‑pocket expenses that I am responsible for. As the first person in my family on both my mother’s and father’s side to attend an HBCU on a full scholarship, I take my education seriously and want to make the most of every opportunity. Receiving this scholarship would help me cover costs that my current financial aid does not, allowing me to stay focused on my goals and continue preparing for the future I am building. My vision for social change is rooted in service, empowerment, and innovation. I want to use my education, my future career, and my foundation to uplift underrepresented communities and create meaningful, lasting impact. Economic empowerment and business innovation are essential to that mission, and I am committed to using both to build a future where every person has the support, they need to thrive.

Growing up can feel like a constant comparison game, and no song has captured that feeling for me more honestly than “jealousy, jealousy.” When Olivia Rodrigo sings, “Comparison is killin' me slowly / I think I think too much / 'Bout kids who don't know me,” it feels like she’s putting words to thoughts I used to keep to myself. In school, I often found myself measuring my worth against other girls how they looked, how confident they seemed, how easily they fit in. Even when I knew those comparisons weren’t fair or healthy, I couldn’t stop. Like Olivia, I felt “so sick of myself,” wishing I could be “anyone, anyone else.” Hearing those lyrics helped me realize I wasn’t alone in that struggle, and that even someone as successful as her has felt the same insecurities. Her music, especially across GUTS, feels like a soundtrack to growing up in real time. Songs like “all-american bitch” and “ballad of a homeschooled girl” reflect the pressure to be everything at once perfect, confident, likable while internally feeling like you’re falling apart. I’ve had moments where I felt like I didn’t quite belong or didn’t know how to act in social situations, and those songs made me feel seen instead of isolated. “Pretty isn’t pretty” especially resonates with me because it highlights how impossible beauty standards can be, something I’ve struggled with while trying to feel comfortable in my own skin as a young black girl. Another song that deeply connects to my personal experiences is “the grudge.” The lyrics, “And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream / How could anybody do the things you did so easily?” reflect the pain of being hurt by someone you trusted. I’ve gone through situations where I told myself I was “fine,” just like Olivia sings, but deep down I couldn’t let go of what happened. The line “It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong” really captures how complicated healing can be. Forgiveness isn’t always simple, and sometimes the hardest part is accepting that you’re still hurting. That song helped me understand that it’s okay to take time to process those emotions instead of forcing myself to move on too quickly. What makes Olivia Rodrigo’s music so impactful to me is how authentic it feels. She doesn’t try to hide the messy, uncomfortable emotions she embraces them. As someone the same age as her, it’s powerful to hear an artist articulate feelings I’ve experienced but didn’t know how to express. Her storytelling, her voice, and even the visual imagery in her work makes everything feel real and relatable. Beyond her music, I admire how she uses her platform to stand up for what she believes in, from advocating for women’s rights to speaking openly about important social issues. It makes me respect her not just as an artist, but as a person. As I prepare for my senior year and plan to graduate in May 2027, continuing my education comes with real financial challenges. Receiving this $500 scholarship would make a meaningful difference for me, as I would use it toward out-of-pocket expenses that come with finishing school. It would help ease some of that burden and allow me to stay focused on my goals and future. Olivia Rodrigo’s music has helped me better understand myself, my insecurities, my growth, and my strength. It reminds me that even the difficult emotions are part of becoming who I am, and that there’s power in being honest about them.

Everyone has that one “awkward” thing about them the little quirks that make people laugh, tilt their head, or wonder what’s going on in your mind. For me, it’s never just one thing. I’m a collection of awkward moments stitched together with good intentions, humor, and a personality that somehow manages to be both shy and bold at the same time. My awkwardness shows up in everyday situations, and while it used to embarrass me, I’ve learned that these quirks are part of what makes me memorable. One of my most common awkward habits is waving at someone who wasn’t actually waving at me. I’ll confidently lift my hand, smiling like I’m greeting a close friend, only to realize they were talking to the person behind me. I’ve mastered the art of pretending I was stretching, fixing my hair, or swatting an imaginary bug. I also have a talent for saying “hey” to someone who wasn’t talking to me at all. No eye contact, no gesture just me inserting myself into a conversation that wasn’t happening. It’s a special skill. Another awkward thing about me is laughing at jokes that probably shouldn’t be funny. If there’s even a hint of dark humor, my laugh is already halfway out before my brain catches up. I also mishear things constantly, and somehow my version always sounds way worse than what was actually said. Someone will say something harmless, and I’ll respond like they just confessed to something dramatic. Add in the fact that I avoid eye contact when I’m nervous and sometimes get caught talking to myself, and you’ve got the full picture: awkward, but in a strangely endearing way. But the things that make me awkward are also the things that make me human. And the things that make me stand out go far beyond my quirks. What truly sets me apart is my kindness. I care deeply, even when no one is watching. I’m open‑minded and willing to understand perspectives different from my own. I stay true to who I am, even when people mock me or try to tear me down. I don’t apologize for loving the color purple, being obsessed with coffee, enjoying candy like a kid, or rewatching my comfort shows. I don’t shrink myself to fit in. I don’t pretend to like or dislike things to impress anyone. I am who I am fully, loudly, and without hesitation. I’m also fiercely independent. I know what I will and will not tolerate, and I’m not afraid to stand on that. I advocate for myself and for others, especially when it comes to causes, I care about. Whether it’s mental health, social justice, or community support, I show up with passion and purpose. My voice matters to me, and I use it to uplift others who may not feel heard. So yes, I may wave at strangers, laugh at the wrong jokes, avoid eye contact, and talk to myself in public. But I also lead with empathy, stay grounded in my values, and show up authentically in every space I enter. My awkwardness makes me relatable, but my heart, drive, and individuality are what truly make me stand out. I am a mix of quirks and strength, softness and confidence, awkwardness and purpose and that combination is exactly what makes me who I am. Because I am responsible for many out‑of‑pocket expenses that my institution no longer covers, I respectfully ask that, if selected, this scholarship be awarded directly to me. Direct support would help me manage essential costs and continue showing up as my full, authentic self.

Higher education is the foundation of the future I am working hard to build. As a low‑income student, I have always understood that earning a degree is not just about personal achievement it is the key to creating stability, breaking generational cycles, and positioning myself to make a meaningful impact in the lives of others. Attending college has opened doors that once felt out of reach, and it continues to shape the person and professional I am becoming. Growing up, financial instability was a constant reality. My parents worked hard, but supporting a family of five meant we often had to rely on extended family or stretch every dollar just to get by. I started working in fast food as soon as I could, not only to cover my own expenses but to help my family with bills, groceries, and anything else we needed. Those experiences taught me responsibility, sacrifice, and perseverance long before I ever stepped foot on a college campus. They also taught me that education is one of the few tools that can truly change the trajectory of someone’s life. As a Social Work major at Tuskegee University, I am pursuing a career rooted in service, advocacy, and compassion. My coursework and field experiences have shown me the realities that children, families, and vulnerable populations face every day. I have completed internships in assisted living and behavioral health settings, gaining hands‑on experience supporting individuals with diverse needs. These opportunities have strengthened my desire to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker someone who can help children and families navigate emotional, behavioral, and medical challenges with dignity and support. My own lived experiences with anxiety, depression, and a mood disorder have also shaped my path. These behavioral and emotional needs have taught me resilience, self‑awareness, and empathy. They have helped me understand how isolating and overwhelming mental health struggles can be, especially for young people who may not have the language or support to express what they are going through. I want to be the kind of social worker who listens deeply, advocates fiercely, and creates safe spaces for children who feel misunderstood or overlooked. Higher education is what makes this future possible. My bachelor’s degree is the first step toward earning my master’s degree and becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. With these credentials, I will be able to work in hospitals, clinics, and community settings where I can support families during some of the most difficult moments of their lives. I want to be a voice for children who cannot advocate for themselves, a guide for families navigating complex systems, and a leader who helps create more equitable and compassionate mental health care. However, pursuing higher education as a low‑income student comes with significant challenges. I am responsible for securing safe housing, covering living expenses, and preparing financially for graduate school and my licensure exam. Scholarships like the WCEJ Thornton Foundation Low‑Income Scholarship are not just helpful they are essential. Receiving this support would allow me to stay focused on my education without the constant stress of financial instability. It would help me continue my journey with confidence, stability, and the ability to fully invest in my future. Because of these responsibilities, I respectfully ask that, if selected, this scholarship be awarded directly to me rather than to my institution. Direct support would allow me to use the funds for housing, living expenses, graduate school preparation, and my social work licensure exam critical needs that directly affect my ability to continue my education and achieve my goals. I plan to create a positive impact by using my education to uplift others. My goal is to support children and families who feel lost, overwhelmed, or unheard. I want to challenge stigma, advocate for mental health resources, and help build systems that treat every person with dignity and compassion. Higher education is the bridge that connects my lived experiences to the change I hope to create, and I am committed to using every opportunity to make a difference.

Leadership, to me, is not about titles or recognition. It is about showing up with purpose, compassion, and resilience especially when life presents challenges that require you to grow in ways you never expected. Living with behavioral and emotional special needs, including anxiety, depression, and a mood disorder, has shaped the way I understand myself and the world around me. These experiences have strengthened my empathy, sharpened my awareness of others’ struggles, and inspired me to become the kind of leader who creates safety, understanding, and hope for the people I serve. My journey has taught me patience, adaptability, and the importance of creating environments where people feel supported. These lessons guide the way I engage with others, whether I am working with residents during my internship at a senior assisted living center, supporting peers through difficult moments, or showing younger students that their challenges do not define their potential. I lead by example by being consistent, empathetic, and committed to growth. One of the most defining parts of my leadership style is that I am neither a traditional leader nor a follower. I have never been someone who simply falls in line, nor someone who leads for the sake of being in front. Instead, I have always painted my own path one shaped by intention, self-awareness, and a deep understanding of where I want to go. I believe true leadership is not about choosing between leading or following; it is about having the courage to create a direction that aligns with your purpose, even when no one else has walked it before. That mindset has allowed me to grow, to stay grounded in who I am, and to inspire others to trust their own journeys. As an aspiring pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, I want to be a voice for children and families navigating complex emotional, medical, and social challenges. My own experiences with mental health have given me a deep understanding of how isolating, overwhelming, and misunderstood these struggles can feel. I want to help create systems where mental health is treated with dignity, where families feel supported, and where vulnerable populations are not overlooked. Every class I take, every internship I complete, and every community interaction I have strengthens my ability to lead with purpose and impact. My ambition is not just to earn degrees it is to build a career rooted in service. I will graduate with my bachelor’s degree in May 2027, and I plan to immediately pursue my master’s degree and obtain my LCSW. Achieving these goals will allow me to work in hospitals and clinical settings where I can advocate for vulnerable populations and help families navigate crises with compassion and clarity. This scholarship would directly support that mission. Receiving the funds directly to me, rather than to my institution, would make a tremendous difference in my life. As a low‑income student preparing for my senior year, I am responsible for securing safe and stable housing so I can focus on my education without the constant stress of financial instability. Direct support would help me afford housing, begin saving for my master’s program, and cover the costs of my social work licensure exam when I graduate. These are real, immediate needs that directly impact my ability to continue my education and become the leader I am working hard to be. I am driven by the belief that leadership is measured by the lives you touch and the change you inspire. My experiences have shaped me into someone who leads with empathy, strength, and determination.

My motivation for pursuing advanced education comes from my commitment to becoming a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I want to build a career where I can support children, adolescents, and families during some of the most vulnerable and overwhelming moments of their lives. Mental health challenges, medical crises, and emotional distress can affect anyone, and I want to be a professional who brings stability, compassion, and guidance to people who need it most. Continuing my education is the path that will allow me to do that. As I move toward my senior year at Tuskegee University, I am preparing for the next step in my journey: earning my master’s degree in social work and becoming fully licensed. My long‑term goal is to work in a hospital setting, specifically in pediatric and psychiatric care. I want to be part of the healthcare team that surrounds a patient with support working alongside doctors, nurses, therapists, and other licensed professionals to make sure every child and family receives the care they deserve. Social workers play a crucial role in bridging communication, advocating for patient needs, and helping families understand complex medical or emotional situations. That is the kind of impact I want to make. My motivation comes from wanting to be a steady presence for people who feel scared, confused, or alone. Children facing medical or mental health challenges often don’t have the words to express what they’re feeling. Families may not know where to turn or how to navigate the healthcare system. I want to be the person who steps in with clarity, empathy, and resources. I want to help families understand diagnoses, connect them to services, and support them emotionally through difficult decisions. I want to be someone who listens without judgment and advocates without hesitation. Pursuing advanced education is not just about earning a degree it is about gaining the clinical knowledge, training, and credentials I need to serve people effectively. Graduate school, licensing exams, and specialized training in medical and psychiatric social work all require financial investment. As a full‑time student preparing for graduate school, the financial demands of continuing my education are significant. Tuition, textbooks, application fees, and living expenses add up quickly, and balancing those costs with academic responsibilities can be overwhelming. This scholarship would make a meaningful difference in my journey. Receiving this support would help relieve some of the financial pressure that comes with preparing for graduate school and allow me to focus more on my studies and professional development. It would help me move one step closer to becoming the licensed medical social worker I aspire to be. Most importantly, it would support my ability to serve children and families with the highest level of care, compassion, and professionalism. I am also motivated by the future I envision for myself beyond my degree. I hope to one day create my own nonprofit foundation, “Mya on a Mission,” dedicated to supporting causes such as mental health access, youth empowerment, disability advocacy, and community wellness. I want to build something long‑lasting that continues to serve people in meaningful ways. Advanced education will give me the foundation I need to not only work in clinical settings, but also to lead, advocate, and create programs that uplift entire communities. My goal is to build a career rooted in service, advocacy, and healing. I am motivated by the future I see for myself working in hospitals, collaborating with healthcare teams, supporting families, and making a difference in the lives of children who need someone in their corner. Advanced education is the key to making that future possible.

Breast health education is important to me because breast cancer has touched my family on both sides, shaping the way I view my own health and the health of the women around me. Growing up, I watched relatives navigate the fear, uncertainty, and emotional weight that comes with every breast exam, every mammogram, and every moment of waiting for results. Even now, when I go for my own exams, there is always a moment of anxiety not because something is wrong, but because breast cancer can appear in so many different ways that people often don’t recognize until it becomes serious. That fear, combined with the lack of awareness many people still have about breast health, is what drives my passion for education, prevention, and early detection. One of the biggest reasons breast health education matters is because the warning signs of breast cancer are not always obvious. Many people only associate breast cancer with finding a lump, but the reality is much more complex. Symptoms can include swelling, skin dimpling, redness, nipple changes, discharge, or pain in areas that don’t seem connected to the breast at all. Some signs are subtle, and others are easy to dismiss. Without proper education, people may ignore early symptoms or assume they are normal changes. I have seen firsthand how dangerous that lack of awareness can be. When you grow up in a family where breast cancer is a real possibility, you learn quickly that knowledge is not optional it is lifesaving. Another reason breast health education is so important is because no breast is “typical.” Many people don’t realize that breasts naturally feel lumpy or uneven, and that changes can happen due to menstrual cycles, pregnancy, weight fluctuations, or medications. Without understanding what is normal, people may panic over harmless changes or, even worse, overlook something that needs medical attention. Education helps people understand their own bodies and recognize when something feels different. It also reduces the shame or embarrassment that sometimes surrounds breast health, especially for younger women who may not feel comfortable asking questions or seeking help. Breast health education also helps people understand that not every lump is cancer. Conditions like fibrocystic breast changes and cysts are extremely common and non‑cancerous, but without proper knowledge, they can cause unnecessary fear. I have watched family members go through the emotional rollercoaster of discovering a lump, waiting for imaging, and fearing the worst only to learn it was benign. While the relief is overwhelming, the emotional toll is real. Education helps people approach breast changes with awareness instead of panic and encourages them to seek medical guidance without assuming the worst. It also helps people understand that breast cancer is not the only breast‑related condition that deserves attention and care. Beyond the physical symptoms, breast cancer has a profound emotional and psychological impact. A diagnosis can bring anxiety, depression, fear, and uncertainty. Treatments like chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy come with side effects that affect both the body and mind. Hair loss, fatigue, hormonal changes, and body image struggles can deeply affect a person’s confidence and mental health. Watching family members navigate these challenges taught me how important emotional support is during the breast cancer journey. Education helps people understand what their loved ones are going through and how to support them with compassion, patience, and understanding. Breast health education is also important to me because of my future career in social work. As an upcoming senior at Tuskegee University majoring in Social Work, I plan to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. My internships have shown me how essential health education is in every community. Whether I was working with youth in Memphis, supporting a client on the autism spectrum in Georgia, or assisting elderly residents in Auburn, I saw how much people rely on social workers for guidance, resources, and emotional support. Breast health is a topic that affects people across all ages, backgrounds, and identities. As a future social worker, I want to be someone who can help individuals navigate fear, understand their symptoms, and access the care they need. My long‑term goal is to create my own nonprofit foundation called “Mya on a Mission.” Through this organization, I hope to support causes that matter deeply to me, including breast health awareness, mental health access, youth empowerment, disability advocacy, and community wellness. Breast health education will be a core part of that mission because I believe that knowledge is one of the most powerful tools, we can give people. When individuals understand their bodies, recognize warning signs, and feel empowered to seek help, we create healthier families and stronger communities. Breast health education is important to me because it saves lives, reduces fear, and empowers people to take control of their health. My family’s experiences, my own awareness, and my passion for helping others have shaped my commitment to spreading knowledge and advocating for early detection. As I continue my education and career in social work, I hope to honor the legacy of women like Annie Pringle by supporting individuals facing breast concerns with compassion, understanding, and accurate information. My goal is to be a source of comfort, guidance, and empowerment for anyone navigating the uncertainty of breast health challenges.

Throughout my undergraduate journey as a Social Work major at Tuskegee University, I have committed myself to addressing one of the most important social issues of our time: ensuring that vulnerable populations receive compassionate, accessible, and culturally responsive support. As I prepare to enter my senior year and begin my year‑long internship, I am continuing a path shaped by hands‑on experience, service, and a deep desire to advocate for those whose voices are often overlooked. Every opportunity I have taken has strengthened my commitment to public service and helped me understand the impact one person can make when they choose to show up for others. My passion for social work began during my time living in Memphis, Tennessee, where I interned at the Youth and Family Resource Center during the summers of 2023 and 2024. The program served youth ages 10 to 17 who were involved in diversion programs. Many of these young people were facing challenges that could easily shape the rest of their lives. My role involved helping with assessments and connecting them to the right services so certain offenses could be removed from their records. Through this work, I saw how early intervention can interrupt cycles of criminalization and give young people a second chance. I learned that addressing social issues often starts with meeting youth where they are and giving them the support they deserve, especially when the system has failed them before. I continued my commitment to vulnerable populations when I interned as a Registered Behavior Technician Intern at Spectrum Analytic Consulting in Sandy Springs, Georgia. There, I worked one‑on‑one with a client on the autism spectrum. My responsibility was to help her build independence, confidence, and vulnerability in daily activities. This experience opened my eyes to the social issue of limited support for individuals with developmental disabilities. I learned how patience, consistency, and individualized care can make a meaningful difference in someone’s life. It strengthened my belief that everyone deserves dignity, understanding, and the opportunity to grow, regardless of their challenges or the labels society places on them. Currently, I am interning at The Neighborhood at Auburn Assisted Living in Auburn, Alabama, under the supervision of a licensed social worker. Working with the elderly population has shown me another side of social work: advocating for individuals who often face isolation, declining health, and limited resources. I have gained insight into assessments, care planning, and the emotional needs of older adults. This experience has taught me that addressing social issues means supporting people across their lifespan, not just in one stage of life. It has also shown me how important it is to treat every person with patience, respect, and compassion, especially those who depend on others for their daily well‑being. All of these experiences have shaped my long‑term vision. After earning my bachelor’s degree, I plan to pursue my master’s and become a licensed pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I want to work directly with children and families who need mental health support, stability, and advocacy. Beyond my career goals, I hope to create my own nonprofit foundation called “Mya on a Mission.” My goal is to support causes I care deeply about youth empowerment, mental health access, disability advocacy, elder care, and community wellness. I want to build something long‑lasting that continues to serve people in meaningful ways. I am working to address social issues by showing up for vulnerable communities, learning from every experience, and preparing myself to be a compassionate and effective social worker. My mission is to remain a change agent, a humanitarian, and someone who uses her education.

Loss has a way of marking time. For me, that moment happened in the ninth‑grade academy in Tennessee, when the intercom crackled on and delivered news that didn’t feel real. A friend I sang with in choir, who helped me with my math homework, who I saw five days a week, had died by suicide. He was only a teenager, carrying more than anyone around him realized. I remember standing there frozen, listening to words that changed the atmosphere of the whole school. Later, seeing his name on the news made it even more heartbreaking. It felt impossible to understand how someone so kind, talented, and present could be gone so suddenly. That loss stayed with me. It still does. It opened my eyes to how deeply people can struggle behind a smile, and how often help arrives too late. It also forced me to confront my own mental health battles, including moments when I struggled with suicidal ideation. I know what it feels like to believe your pain is too heavy or too invisible. I know what it feels like to think you have to drown in your own silence. That shared understanding of grief, of fear, of survival is what pushed me toward the mental health field. My experience with loss didn’t just inspire me; it shaped my purpose. I am pursuing a career as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker because I want to be the kind of adult I wish my friend had in his corner. Children and adolescents often carry emotional burdens long before they have the language to explain them. They deserve someone who listens without judgment, someone who sees the signs early, someone who believes them when they say they’re hurting. Kids are our future, but they are also our right now and they need safe spaces, supportive systems, and adults who refuse to dismiss their pain. My career goal is to work directly with young people who feel unseen or unheard, especially those navigating depression, trauma, or suicidal thoughts. I want to help create environments were asking for help is normalized, where mental health is treated with urgency, and where no one feels like they have to suffer alone. I hope to build trust with the children and families I serve, connect them to resources, and advocate for better access to compassionate, culturally responsive care. Suicide prevention, to me, is not just about crisis intervention it’s about early intervention, education, and community. It’s about teaching kids that their feelings matter, helping families recognize warning signs, and building systems that respond quickly and effectively. I believe I can make a difference by being present, by listening deeply, and by reminding every young person I work with: I hear you. I see you. You matter. Losing my friend changed the trajectory of my life, but it also gave me a mission. I want to honor him by helping others stay alive long enough to see that their story is not over. If I can help even one person feel understood, supported, and safe, then I will be doing the work I was meant to do.

Growing up, I learned how to survive long before I learned how to dream. As a low-income student, I became used to stretching resources, finding creative solutions, and pushing forward even when the path felt uncertain. One of the most defining moments of resilience for me came during my first year of college, when I realized that many of the opportunities my peers took for granted textbooks, stable housing, transportation, even quiet places to study were things I had to fight for. I learned to borrow books, share materials, work extra hours, and advocate for myself in spaces where I often felt invisible. It wasn’t easy, but it taught me that I could build a future even when the present felt unstable. That experience shaped the way I move through the world. It taught me that resilience is not just about enduring hardship it’s about believing that something better is possible, even when you’ve never seen it before. It’s about holding onto hope when circumstances tell you to settle. And it’s about choosing to dream anyway. Studying abroad represents that dream for me. It is something I once believed was out of reach something “other people” did, not students like me who have to calculate every dollar and sacrifice to stay in school. But the more I’ve grown, the more I’ve realized that I deserve experiences that expand me, challenge me, and help me see myself beyond survival. Traveling abroad would allow me to step outside the limits of my environment and into a world that feels bigger, brighter, and full of possibility. As a Social Work major, I hope to study abroad in a program focused on global health, social systems, or community development. I am currently in the early stages of the process researching programs, speaking with advisors, and preparing to apply. My goal is to study in a country where I can learn about social work practices from a global perspective, especially in communities that prioritize collective care, mental health, and child welfare. I want to understand how different cultures support vulnerable populations so I can bring that knowledge back to my future work as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. Studying abroad would help me move from simply surviving to creating a life that reflects who I am and who I want to become. It would give me the confidence to step into unfamiliar spaces, the courage to trust myself, and the clarity to see my future beyond the limitations I grew up with. It would also allow me to build connections with people from different backgrounds, strengthening my ability to serve diverse communities with empathy and cultural humility. Most importantly, studying abroad would remind me that my dreams are valid. That I am allowed to explore, to grow, and to imagine a life shaped by purpose rather than fear. It would be a step toward becoming the kind of social worker and the kind of person who believes in possibility not just for others, but for myself.

Growing up, I always knew I was different, even before I had the language to describe it. I am bisexual, and I am the only openly LGBTQIA+ person on both sides of my family. While my parents and siblings accepted me when I came out at sixteen, many extended family members hold deeply homophobic and transphobic beliefs. Because of that, I learned early on to navigate my identity quietly, carefully, and often alone. But the moment that truly shaped my activism came from someone outside my family someone who showed me what it looks like to live openly, proudly, and unapologetically. When I was in high school, I met an older LGBTQIA+ mentor through a community service program. They were the first person I had ever met who talked openly about their identity, their relationships, and their experiences without fear. They didn’t shrink themselves to make others comfortable. They didn’t apologize for existing. They simply lived in their truth. Watching them move through the world with confidence and compassion changed me in a way I didn’t expect. For the first time, I saw a version of myself that felt possible. Their impact on me was quiet but powerful. They didn’t sit me down and give me a speech. Instead, they showed me through their actions, their kindness, and their authenticity that being LGBTQIA+ is not something to hide or fear. It is something to honor. They helped me understand that my identity is not a burden or a secret; it is a part of who I am, and it deserves to be seen. That experience motivated me to become the kind of person I needed when I was younger. It shaped my desire to be an activist, especially for LGBTQIA+ youth who feel isolated, unsafe, or unsupported. I know what it feels like to monitor every word, to avoid certain topics, to shrink yourself to avoid conflict. I also know how life‑changing it is to meet someone who makes you feel seen. As a Social Work major at Tuskegee University, I plan to use my education to advocate for LGBTQIA+ individuals in clinical and medical settings. My goal is to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, where I can support young people who are navigating identity, mental health, and family dynamics. I want to create safe spaces in environments where LGBTQIA+ youth are often misunderstood or overlooked. Beyond my career, I hope to launch a nonprofit called “Mya on a Mission,” focused on mental health, LGBTQIA+ rights, and community empowerment. I want to build programs that provide resources, mentorship, and support for young people who feel alone in their identities just like I once did. The person who inspired me may never know the impact they had on my life, but their example lit a fire in me. They showed me that visibility is activism, authenticity is activism, and compassion is activism. Because of them, I am committed to making the world safer, kinder, and more affirming for the next generation of LGBTQIA+ youth.

For me, going to college is more than earning a degree it is the foundation of the life I have always dreamed of building. As a young Black woman pursuing a bachelor’s degree in social work at Tuskegee University, higher education represents opportunity, stability, and the power to break generational cycles. It means stepping into rooms that people in my family never had access to and using my education to create change not only for myself, but for the communities I care about. College has given me the chance to grow academically, professionally, and personally. It has allowed me to discover my passion for medical social work and my desire to serve children and families who are navigating some of the hardest moments of their lives. Through my field placement and coursework, I’ve learned how deeply social workers impact the healthcare system advocating for vulnerable patients, coordinating care, and ensuring that no one is left without support. This work is meaningful to me because I know what it feels like to struggle, to feel unseen, and to need someone who genuinely cares. I want to be that person for others. My long-term goal is to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker in a hospital or clinical setting. To get there, I plan to earn my master’s degree immediately after completing my BSW and then pursue licensure as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. These steps require not only dedication, but also financial resources. This scholarship would help me cover essential costs that are not included in my institutional aid such as off-campus housing, graduate school tuition, and the fees required to obtain my social work license and certifications. These are real barriers for me as a student from a low-income, middle-class family, and receiving support would allow me to stay focused on my education instead of worrying about how to afford the next step. Beyond my career goals, going to college has inspired me to think bigger about the impact I want to make. One day, I hope to launch the “Mya on a Mission” Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting marginalized communities through mental health resources, LGBTQIA+ advocacy, child welfare support, poverty alleviation, disaster relief, and social justice initiatives. My education is the blueprint for this vision. Every class I take, every internship I complete, and every skill I gain brings me closer to building something that will outlast me. College is not just a path to a job it is the path to my purpose. It is teaching me how to serve, how to lead, and how to use my voice to uplift others. With support from this scholarship, I will be able to continue pursuing my goals with confidence, knowing that I am building a future that will positively impact my family, my community, and the children and families I will one day serve.

Legacy, to me, is not something you leave behind at the end of your life it is something you build every day through intention, compassion, and the courage to create change. As a junior social work major at Tuskegee University, I wake up each day with a purpose that goes far beyond earning a degree. I am working toward a future where I can use my education, my lived experiences, and my heart for people to build something that will outlive me. That vision is the foundation of the business I hope to create one day: Mya on a Mission. Before I launch my business, I am committed to becoming the strongest clinician I can be. I plan to earn my bachelor’s degree in social work, pursue my master’s immediately after, and obtain full licensure so I can work as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker in hospital or clinical settings. I want to spend years gaining hands‑on experience with children and families, understanding their needs, and learning how systems impact their lives. This experience will not only shape me as a professional it will shape the mission and structure of my future business. Mya on a Mission will be a foundation‑based business dedicated to causes that matter deeply to me: mental health access, child welfare, LGBTQIA+ support, poverty alleviation, healthcare equity, and resources for vulnerable populations. I want to create a business that is not driven by profit, but by purpose. My dream is to fully fund programs, services, and emergency support for people who are often overlooked or underserved. I want to build a business that acts as a safety net, a resource hub, and a place where people feel seen, supported, and valued. Entrepreneurship, for me, is not about owning something it is about building something that gives back. I have always seen myself as a change agent and a humanitarian. Even now, through my volunteer work and my field placement experiences, I shine my light by showing up for people with empathy, patience, and a genuine desire to help. I believe that kindness is a form of leadership, and service is a form of entrepreneurship. Every time I advocate for a client, support a peer, or contribute to my community, I am practicing the values that will guide my future business. I also hope that this scholarship can be awarded directly to me as the student. Because even with a full‑ride scholarship, there are still significant financial responsibilities that come with becoming a licensed clinician and future entrepreneur. Receiving the funds directly would allow me to cover the costs of my final year at Tuskegee, support my transition into graduate school, and pay for the licensure and certifications required to practice. My goal is to complete my bachelor’s degree, my master’s degree, and all of my credentials before I turn 25. This scholarship would help make that timeline possible and allow me to step into my career and eventually my business with stability and confidence. My legacy will be built through service, compassion, and the belief that one person can make a difference. Mya on a Mission is not just a business idea it is the future I am working toward, one step, one degree, and one act of service at a time. I shine my light by dreaming boldly, caring deeply, and choosing every day to become the kind of leader who lifts others as I rise.

Access has always shaped the way I learn not because I lacked the desire to grow, but because even with a full‑ride scholarship, the true cost of education extends far beyond tuition. As a junior social work major at Tuskegee University, I have learned that becoming a licensed clinician requires more than classroom attendance. It requires housing stability, academic materials, field placement expenses, graduate school tuition, and licensure fees. These are the kinds of resources that determine how deeply a student can engage their education, and they are often the difference between simply earning a degree and fully preparing for a career of service. Tia Lukeya Woods believed that learning is something you chase, carry, and choose. I see that belief reflected in my own journey. I am constantly seeking to understand the world more fully through my courses, my field placement, and my commitment to becoming a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. My passion for social work is rooted in a desire to support children and families with compassion, cultural humility, and trauma‑informed care. But passion alone is not enough. Access is what allows passion to grow into purpose. While my Presidential Scholarship covers tuition and on‑campus housing, it does not eliminate the financial realities that shape my education. As I prepare for my final year at Tuskegee, I am required to live off campus, which means securing stable housing without the support my scholarship once provided. At the same time, I am planning for graduate school immediately after earning my bachelor’s degree. Tuition, books, and the fees required to obtain my social work licensure are significant expenses that fall outside the scope of my current financial aid. These costs directly impact how freely and deeply I can engage my studies. This scholarship would remove barriers that stand between me and the education I am determined to complete. It would help me secure housing for my last year at Tuskegee, allowing me to focus on my field placement and senior coursework without the constant stress of financial instability. It would also help cover the cost of my master’s degree and the licensure fees required to become a fully credentialed clinician. With this support, I could pursue my education with the same curiosity, intention, and joy that defined Tia’s life. Access to resources does more than support academic success it expands the way you see yourself and the world. When I have the tools I need, I am able to think more boldly, read more deeply, and engage more fully with the material that shapes my understanding of social work. I become a better student, a more thoughtful future clinician, and a more grounded member of my community. What I gain from this scholarship will not stop with me. I plan to carry it forward into my work with children and families, into my advocacy for mental health equity, and into the communities I will one day serve. Tia believed that knowledge could change the trajectory of a life. This scholarship would change mine not by giving me something I lack, but by expanding what is possible. In honoring Tia’s legacy, I hope to embody her belief that learning is a lifelong pursuit, that curiosity is a compass, and that access to knowledge is a gift meant to be carried forward.

My passion for social work is rooted in a deep belief that every child deserves to feel safe, valued, and understood especially those navigating systems that have historically overlooked their needs, identities, and cultural experiences. As a junior social work major at Tuskegee University and a Presidential Scholar, I have dedicated my academic journey to learning how to support children and families with compassion, cultural humility, and a commitment to justice. Social work is not simply a career path for me; it is a calling shaped by my lived experiences, my community, and my desire to create spaces where healing and empowerment are possible. Carmen Jimenez‑Pride’s legacy resonates with me on a profound level. Her work as a licensed clinical social worker, play therapist, and visionary leader in trauma‑informed care reflects the kind of practitioner I aspire to become. Carmen understood that healing requires creativity, cultural responsiveness, and a willingness to meet children where they are. Her Focus on Feelings® curriculum and her dedication to emotional literacy remind me that children communicate their needs in ways that require patience, presence, and attunement. She modeled what it means to honor the whole child their culture, their story, and their voice. That is the kind of social worker I want to be. My career goal is to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker specializing in trauma‑informed and culturally responsive care for children and families. I want to work in hospital and clinical settings where children often experience fear, uncertainty, and emotional overwhelm. In these environments, social workers have the unique opportunity to create safety, clarity, and connection. I plan to integrate play therapy, emotional literacy tools, and body‑based healing approaches much like Carmen did to help children express themselves, process trauma, and build resilience. I am especially passionate about addressing racial trauma and mental health disparities that disproportionately affect Black communities. My work will center empowerment, advocacy, and the belief that every child’s story deserves to be heard with dignity and without judgment. To embody Carmen’s legacy of service, cultural humility, and advocacy, I will continue to approach every client and family with openness and curiosity. Cultural humility is not a skill that can be mastered; it is a lifelong practice of listening, learning, and recognizing that each family’s cultural values and lived experiences shape how they understand healing. In my field placement, I have learned the importance of slowing down, asking thoughtful questions, and allowing clients to guide their own narratives. I plan to carry this mindset into my future clinical work by ensuring that care plans reflect the cultural strengths, traditions, and identities of the families I serve. Advocacy is another essential part of Carmen’s legacy that I hope to carry forward. Many families particularly those from marginalized communities face barriers to equitable healthcare and mental health support. As a social worker, I want to challenge these barriers by speaking up in interdisciplinary teams, pushing for culturally responsive services, and ensuring that families receive the resources and support they deserve. Advocacy also means empowering families to use their own voices. I want to help parents feel confident navigating medical systems and help children feel safe expressing their emotions and needs. Service and leadership are commitments I live out daily. Through my academic work, community engagement, and field placement experiences, I strive to create environments where children and families feel seen, valued, and supported. I hope to carry forward Carmen Jimenez‑Pride’s mission by becoming the kind of social worker who not only provides care, but transforms the environments where care happens. Her legacy reminds me that social work is both heart work and hard work requiring courage, creativity, and a deep commitment to justice. This scholarship would not only support my education; it would help me continue the work of a woman whose legacy has already shaped the kind of professional and advocate I am becoming. I am honored to apply and even more honored to carry her spirit of service, cultural humility, and advocacy into the next generation of social work.

Making my community and the world a better place has never felt like an abstract dream to me it has always been a responsibility. Growing up in Georgia, especially near Atlanta, I saw firsthand how many families, children, and vulnerable individuals fall through the cracks simply because they lack support, resources, or someone willing to advocate for them. That reality shaped my purpose. Today, as a Social Work major at Tuskegee University, I am actively building the foundation for a career centered on service, healing, and empowerment. After graduating with my Bachelor of Social Work in May 2027, I plan to immediately pursue my master’s degree and then sit for the licensing exam to become a fully credentialed social worker. My long-term goal is to work in a hospital setting as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I want to be the person who helps children and families navigate some of the hardest moments of their life's moments filled with fear, uncertainty, or silence. Throughout my life, I have naturally been the “therapist friend,” the one people trusted with their worries because they knew I would listen without judgment. I learned early that compassion, perspective, and patience can change the trajectory of someone’s day, or even their life. Social work feels like my calling because it allows me to turn those qualities into a profession that uplifts others. Right now, I am already contributing to my community through my education and field placement. Attending an HBCU has strengthened my understanding of service, leadership, and cultural responsibility. My fieldwork at an assisted living facility has taught me how to advocate for vulnerable populations, communicate across differences, and support individuals with dignity and care. These experiences have deepened my commitment to returning to Georgia after graduate school to serve the communities that raised me. Beyond my career in social work, I also hope to make a difference through my creative passions. I have always loved writing, singing, and acting, and I believe storytelling is another powerful way to inspire change. One day, I hope to write songs, scripts, or creative pieces that reflect real struggles, real resilience, and real hope. Creativity has always been a form of healing for me, and I want to use it to reach others as well. Eventually, I plan to launch my own nonprofit initiative called "Mya on a Mission Foundation". This foundation will support causes I deeply care about mental health access, LGBTQIA+ rights, child welfare, poverty alleviation, healthcare equity, and community empowerment. My dream is to use my career, my resources, and my voice to uplift people who are often overlooked or underserved. Whether through social work, creative expression, or community advocacy, I am committed to building a future where compassion is the standard and support is accessible to everyone. I am already taking steps toward that future, and after college, I plan to expand that impact even further. My mission is simple: to help others feel seen, supported, and empowered to live the lives they deserve.

I’ve loved math for as long as I can remember. From elementary school through high school, I was lucky enough to have amazing math teachers who made learning fun, engaging, and something to look forward to. They taught in ways that helped students truly understand the material instead of feeling intimidated by it. Because of them, math never felt like a chore it felt like a challenge I wanted to solve. One of the things I love most about math is that there are multiple ways to solve a problem and still arrive at the same answer. That flexibility makes math feel creative, not rigid. It teaches you to think for yourself, explore different strategies, and choose the method that makes the most sense to you. That freedom is empowering, and it’s one of the reasons math has always been my favorite subject. I also love that math shows up in everyday life, even when people don’t realize it. We use math when we cook, shop, budget, travel, plan, and make decisions. It’s in the measurements we take, the patterns we notice, and the logic we use to solve problems. Math is woven into everything and understanding it makes the world feel more connected and understandable. Math also builds important skills that go far beyond the classroom. It strengthens problem‑solving, critical thinking, and patience. It teaches you how to break down big challenges into smaller steps and how to keep trying even when the answer doesn’t come easily. Those skills matter in every career and every part of life. Most of all, I love math because it’s both useful and beautiful. It explains patterns in nature, structures in art, and systems in technology. It’s a universal language that helps us understand the world and create new possibilities. Math has shaped who I am as a student and as a thinker, and it continues to inspire me every day.

The new Love Island challenge I am introducing is called “The Heart on the Mic Challenge,” a dramatic, romantic, and high‑pressure performance task designed to push Islanders to be vulnerable in the most entertaining way possible. This challenge requires each Islander to write an original love song or poem dedicated to the person they are currently dating. It can be emotional, funny, dramatic, or completely over the top, but it must express their true feelings in a creative and personal way. Once their piece is written, they must perform it live on a full stage built inside the villa, complete with lights, fog, and a sparkly backdrop. To match the energy of the night, each Islander is styled in a glittery performance outfit, turning the villa into a mini concert venue. During their five‑minute performance, Islanders can sing, rap, dance, or perform spoken word, allowing them to showcase their personality and their connection to their partner. The challenge is designed to reveal how confident, expressive, and emotionally open each Islander is willing to be. The twist is that they are not just performing for their partner and the rest of the villa. They must also impress three celebrity judges, chosen for their success in music, entertainment, or performance. These judges score each Islander on creativity, stage presence, emotional vulnerability, and how well the performance reflects their relationship. Their reactions add humor, suspense, and a touch of chaos, especially when a performance is unexpectedly impressive or painfully awkward. The biggest twist comes after the performance. Once the Islander finishes, the partner the piece was written for must decide whether the performance made them feel more connected or if it revealed a lack of chemistry. If the partner does not like the performance or feels the connection is not genuine, then both Islanders must leave the villa immediately, ending their Love Island journey together. This rule raises the emotional stakes and forces Islanders to be honest about their feelings. However, if the partner loves the performance and the judges give a passing score, the couple is officially safe and moves on to the next challenge. Their bond is strengthened, and the villa celebrates their success. This challenge adds a new level of excitement to the show because it blends romance, vulnerability, talent, and high emotional stakes. It forces Islanders to put their hearts on display in a way that is entertaining for viewers and revealing for their relationships. It creates unforgettable moments filled with comedy, tension, tears, and triumph. The Heart on the Mic Challenge captures everything that makes Love Island so addictive, while giving fans a fresh, dramatic twist that highlights creativity, connection, and the courage to express love on a public stage.

I want to build a future rooted in service, compassion, and meaningful change. As a Presidential Scholar pursuing my bachelor’s degree in social work at Tuskegee University, I am building the foundation for a career dedicated to supporting children and families in vulnerable situations. My dream is to work in a hospital as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, where I can advocate for children who deserve safety, stability, and someone who will fight for their well‑being. But beyond my professional goals, I want to build something even larger something that extends beyond my individual career and becomes a source of support for entire communities. After gaining experience and achieving financial stability, I plan to create the Mya on a Mission Foundation, a nonprofit organization built on the values that shaped me: empathy, justice, and a commitment to uplifting marginalized populations. Growing up in a low‑income household taught me the importance of support systems and how deeply families can struggle when resources are limited. I want my foundation to be the support that so many people never receive. My goal is to build a sustainable organization that provides direct assistance, education, advocacy, and community‑centered programs that address the issues I care about most. Through Mya on a Mission, I hope to fund and expand programs that support mental health and addiction recovery, abortion care, universal healthcare access, LGBTQIA+ protection, child welfare, family services, and poverty alleviation. I want to address homelessness, food insecurity, and the lack of access to basic necessities like formula, clean water, and stable housing. I want to fight against racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and xenophobia. I want to support women’s rights, equal pay, disaster relief, community empowerment, and systemic change. My foundation will not only provide resources but also advocate for policies that protect vulnerable populations and promote equity. Right now, I am actively working toward this vision by dedicating myself to my education, completing my field placement, and preparing for graduate school and licensure. Every class, internship, and hands‑on experience brings me closer to the social worker and leader I want to become. I am learning how to assess needs, support families, navigate complex systems, and advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves. These skills will one day allow me to build programs that are ethical, effective, and grounded in real‑world experience. What I want to build is more than a career. I want to build a legacy of service, a foundation that uplifts communities, and a future where vulnerable populations are protected, supported, and empowered. My education is the first step, but my mission will last a lifetime.

Growing up in a low‑income household taught me resilience long before I understood the word. My parents worked hard to support a family of five, but even with their effort, we often struggled to stay financially stable. For years, we lived with relatives while trying to get back on our feet. I remember asking family members for help when my parents couldn’t afford certain expenses, and when I started working in fast food, part of my paycheck often went toward bills or groceries, so we had food in the house. Even participating in competitive cheer required asking my aunt for help so I could stay in the sport I loved. These experiences shaped me into someone who doesn’t give up, even when life feels heavy. Coming from a low‑income background has motivated me to build a future where financial stability is possible. I am currently a junior pursuing my bachelor’s in social work at Tuskegee University, and I will be a senior this upcoming academic year. I am actively working toward my goals by completing my field placement, maintaining strong academics, and preparing to earn my MSW and become a licensed medical social worker. I plan to work in a hospital setting, specifically with children, because I believe every child deserves safety, care, and someone who will advocate for them. My life experiences have taught me empathy, determination, and the importance of community support. I plan to use those lessons to uplift others, especially children and families facing the same challenges I once did. My goal is to create a positive impact by being the kind of support I needed growing up.

I believe the most meaningful impact begins with compassion showing up for people in their hardest moments and reminding them that they are not alone. That belief has guided every part of my journey, from volunteering in my community to pursuing my degree in Social Work at Tuskegee University. As I continue my education, my purpose has become clearer: I want to make a positive impact on the world by becoming a licensed medical social worker, specializing in pediatric and psychiatric care. My dream is to work in a hospital setting where I can support children, families, and vulnerable populations with empathy, advocacy, and dignity. Medical social workers play a vital role in healthcare, bridging the gap between clinical treatment and the emotional, social, and practical needs of patients. In a hospital, they conduct assessments to understand the challenges patients face beyond their diagnosis whether emotional distress, financial strain, or lack of support. They collaborate with doctors, nurses, and interdisciplinary teams to create care plans that treat the whole person, not just the illness. They provide counseling during moments of fear, grief, or uncertainty, offering guidance and emotional support when families feel overwhelmed. They connect patients to community resources, financial assistance programs, transportation services, and support groups, helping to ease the burdens that often accompany medical crises. They advocate for patients’ rights, ensuring that individuals understand their options and receive equitable care. They also assist with discharge planning, making sure patients have the resources and support they need to transition safely from the hospital to home or another care facility. This work matters because it changes lives. It reduces hospital readmissions, improves patient outcomes, and ensures that people especially children receive care that honors their humanity. I want to be part of that change. I want to be the person who listens when a child is scared, who supports a parent facing a difficult diagnosis, who stands up for families who feel unheard, and who helps communities access the resources they deserve. I want to help create a healthcare environment where every patient feels seen, supported, and valued. My passion for service extends far beyond the hospital walls. I care deeply about mental health access, child protection, poverty alleviation, and community empowerment. I believe in fighting for civil rights, LGBTQIA+ equality, reproductive justice, and fair pay. I want to advocate for universal healthcare, better support for veterans, and stronger systems that protect marginalized communities. These causes matter to me because they shape the world children grow up in and the world I want to help improve. I want to use my voice and my career to challenge injustice, uplift vulnerable populations, and create safer, more equitable communities. I also understand that making an impact is not just about the big moments; it is about the everyday choices to lead with empathy. It is about treating people with dignity, listening without judgment, and recognizing the humanity in every person. My volunteer experiences and my field placement have shown me how powerful it is when someone feels seen and supported. Even small acts of kindness can change the trajectory of someone’s day or their life. I want to carry that mindset into every space I enter as a social worker. The Our Destiny Our Future Scholarship honors someone who lived a life of giving, and I hope to carry that legacy forward. My impact on the world will come from the lives I touch, the families I support, and the communities I help strengthen. I am dedicated to building a future rooted in empathy, justice, and service.

Pursuing a career in the nonprofit sector feels like stepping fully into the purpose I have carried with me my entire life. I am constantly reminded that service is not just something I do it is who I am. Every day, I witness how compassion, advocacy, and human connection can transform someone’s life, and those experiences continue to shape my commitment to becoming a social worker who uplifts communities and fights for justice. I want to pursue a career in the nonprofit sector because the causes I care about are deeply rooted in humanity, equity, and dignity. I am passionate about mental health, poverty, hunger, homelessness, LGBTQIA+ rights, women’s empowerment, equal pay, and equal rights across the board. I care about veterans who deserve better support, students who need free lunch to focus on school, and families who struggle to access clean water, healthy food, or affordable healthcare. I believe in environmental conservation, climate action, animal welfare, refugee and displacement support, and stronger responses to natural disasters. I also believe in free universal healthcare, affordable college tuition, free period products, free formula, abortion care, and retirement plans that reflect a person’s years of service and qualifications. These issues are not abstract to me they are lived realities for millions of people, and I want my career to be part of the solution. My long‑term goal is to earn my MSW, obtain my LCSW, and work in a hospital setting as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I want to support children facing medical or emotional crises, help families navigate complex systems, and advocate for those who feel silenced or overlooked. I want to give people hope and help them become loud about the problems they have been forced to carry quietly. I have always been an observer, someone who thinks logically, understands multiple perspectives, and notices the emotions others try to hide. Those qualities guide me toward work that requires empathy, patience, and a deep commitment to justice. Working in the nonprofit sector will allow me to address the systemic issues that shape people’s lives. Whether I am supporting families in hospitals like Wellstar, Grady, or Emory, or partnering with community organizations to expand access to mental health resources, I want my work to create tangible, lasting change. I want to help build communities where children feel safe, families feel supported, and people have access to the resources they need to thrive. My passion for social justice is not limited to one issue because people’s lives are not limited to one struggle. True change requires addressing the full picture. Meaningful change often begins with one person choosing to care. I want to be that person for the children, families, and communities who need someone willing to stand beside them. Using my education, training, and heart for service, I hope to uplift the people and places that shaped me and advocate for those who deserve more than what society has offered them. I am pursuing a career in the nonprofit sector because I believe in the power of humanity, collective care, and the possibility of a more just world. Through social work, I hope to help build communities rooted in equity, compassion, and opportunity places where every person is valued, supported, and treated with dignity. My commitment is to create impact that lasts, not just through individual support but through advocacy that challenges the systems that harm people. My goal is to leave every community I serve stronger, safer, and more hopeful than I found it.

Living with a chronic illness has shaped my academic journey in ways I never expected. After receiving my second dose of the COVID‑19 vaccine, my body began reacting in ways that were confusing, frightening, and completely out of my control. I started feeling dizzy, passing out, and experiencing episodes of extremely low blood pressure. My energy dropped, my ears and hands would ring, and I developed frequent migraines and nausea that made even simple tasks feel overwhelming. My pediatrician referred me to a neurologist, and after months of uncertainty, I was diagnosed with chronic migraine disorder. I have now been in treatment for almost five years, and while I have learned how to manage my symptoms, this illness has disrupted my life in profound ways. School became harder. Concentration was difficult, and there were days when the pain made it impossible to keep up with assignments or attend class. I often felt like I was fighting two battles at once trying to succeed academically while also trying to keep my body stable enough to function. But even in the hardest moments, I refused to give up on my education. I reminded myself that my dreams mattered, and that the younger version of me the little girl who always wanted to help others deserved to see me keep going. In many ways, living with a chronic illness has taught me how to give myself the same compassion I give to others. It feels like caring for a younger version of myself who needs patience, understanding, and love. Resilience has become a daily practice. I learned how to advocate for myself with doctors, professors, and disability services. I learned how to rest without feeling guilty, how to communicate my needs clearly, and how to keep moving forward even when progress felt slow. I also learned how to balance my academic responsibilities with my health, which required discipline, flexibility, and a willingness to ask for help. These experiences have made me stronger, more empathetic, and more determined to pursue the career I feel called to. My chronic illness is a major reason I want to become a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. I know what it feels like to be scared, confused, and unsure of what is happening inside your own body. I know what it feels like to sit in doctor’s offices searching for answers, or to feel like your pain is invisible to others. Because of this, I want to work with children who are navigating medical challenges, emotional struggles, or chronic conditions of their own. I believe deeply in taking care of the kids who are already here kids who need someone to advocate for them, listen to them, and help them feel safe. My illness didn’t take away my dreams; it clarified them. Receiving this scholarship would make a meaningful difference in my life. As I enter my final academic year at Tuskegee University, I will be living in a single‑room apartment due to my disability accommodations. This housing is essential for my health, but it also comes with higher costs. This scholarship would help me cover part of my monthly rent, easing the financial strain and allowing me to focus more fully on my studies and my field placement. Your support would help me continue pursuing my goals while managing a chronic illness that has shaped my journey in both challenging and transformative ways.

My name is Mya Sears, and I am a junior majoring in Social Work with the goal of becoming a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker. My journey has been shaped by many things my family, my education, my leadership experiences but most profoundly by my disabilities. Since I was young, I have struggled with chronic migraine disorder, anxiety, and depression. These conditions have influenced my beliefs, my relationships, and the career path I feel called to pursue. They have shaped who I am as a person and strengthened my desire to help children who are navigating challenges, they may not yet have the words to express. My disabilities began shaping my life long before I understood what disability meant. I developed severe anxiety at eight years old, and it affected the way I interacted with school, friendships, and new environments. When I was twelve, my family moved to a different state where we had no support system and were struggling financially as a family of five. That transition was overwhelming, and I experienced a deep period of depression that made me feel isolated and disconnected. Later, after receiving my second dose of the COVID‑19 vaccine, I developed a chronic migraine disorder that changed my daily life. The pain was unpredictable and intense, affecting my ability to focus, study, and participate fully in school. These experiences taught me early on that disability is not always visible and that people often carry battles no one else can see. Living with these conditions has shaped my beliefs in powerful ways. I believe deeply in compassion, accessibility, and the importance of creating environments where people feel safe to express their needs. I learned firsthand how difficult it can be to advocate for yourself when you are young, scared, or unsure of what you are feeling. Because of that, I believe every child deserves someone who listens without judgment and takes their pain seriously. My disabilities taught me that strength is not about pretending to be okay it is about surviving, adapting, and continuing to move forward even when things feel impossible. These beliefs guide the way I show up for others and the way I hope to show up for future patients. My disabilities have also shaped my relationships. I have learned to surround myself with people who understand that disability is not a weakness and that healing is not linear. My struggles helped me develop deeper empathy for others, especially those who feel misunderstood or overlooked. When friends, classmates, or residents at my field placement share their fears or frustrations, I understand them on a personal level. My disabilities have made me a better listener, a more patient friend, and a more emotionally attuned support system. Leadership has always been a part of my life, from serving as a cheer captain in high school to taking on responsibilities in my field placement at an assisted living facility. My leadership style is rooted in empathy, communication, and emotional awareness. I lead by creating safe spaces, validating others’ experiences, and showing that vulnerability is not a limitation but a source of connection. My disabilities have strengthened these qualities, teaching me how to support others with compassion and authenticity. I believe we must take care of the ones who are already here. My dream is to work in a hospital as a pediatric and psychiatric medical social worker, advocating for young people who need someone in their corner. My disabilities have shaped my purpose, my passion, and my commitment to making sure no child feels alone in their struggle.

Mental health is important to me as a student because it has shaped every part of my academic journey, my identity, and the way I show up for others. College is already challenging, but navigating it while managing anxiety, emotional stress, and the pressure to succeed adds another layer that many people never see. For me, mental health is not just a topic of discussion, it is a daily practice of resilience. It influences how I learn, how I connect with others, and how I take care of myself. I have had moments where I felt overwhelmed, moments where I questioned my abilities, and moments where I struggled silently because I did not want to burden anyone. Those experiences taught me that mental health is not optional; it is foundational. When students feel supported emotionally, they can thrive academically. When they do not, everything becomes heavier. That understanding is why I take mental health seriously, both for myself and for the people around me. As a junior majoring in Social Work, I have learned how deeply mental health impacts students’ success, relationships, and sense of belonging. I have also learned how stigma can silence people who need help the most. Growing up, I often felt like I had to be strong even when I was struggling, and that mindset followed me into college. Over time, I realized that strength is not about pretending everything is fine, it is about being honest, asking for support, and creating space for others to do the same. That realization is what drives my advocacy. I advocate for mental health in my community by being a consistent, compassionate presence for the people around me. At school, I support classmates who are overwhelmed with coursework, personal challenges, or emotional stress. Sometimes, that looks like helping someone talk through their anxiety before a presentation, and other times it means sitting with a friend who feels alone. I use the communication skills I’ve developed in my social work program: reflective listening, empathy, and nonjudgmental support to create safe spaces where people feel heard. I also speak openly about my own mental health experiences, because I believe vulnerability helps break stigma. When others see that they are not the only ones struggling, it becomes easier for them to reach out. During my field placement at an assisted living facility, I advocate for residents’ emotional well-being by checking in on them, validating their feelings, and helping them navigate difficult moments. Many residents' face loneliness, grief, or cognitive decline, and my role allows me to support them with patience and compassion. This work has strengthened my belief that mental health advocacy is not limited to one age group or environment; it is something every community needs. At home, I advocate for mental health by encouraging open conversations with my family. Coming from a background where mental health was not always discussed, I make an effort to normalize talking about emotions, stress, and coping strategies. I remind my younger relatives that it is okay to ask for help and that taking care of their mental health is just as important as taking care of their physical health. Ultimately, mental health matters to me because I know what it feels like to struggle, and I know how powerful it is to have someone who understands. Through my education, my lived experiences, and my commitment to helping others, I hope to continue advocating for mental health and creating communities where people feel supported, valued, and never alone.

Substance abuse has shaped my life long before I ever understood what addiction was. On both my mother’s and father’s sides of the family, alcoholism runs deep. Both of my grandfathers struggled with alcohol use for most of their lives, shaped by trauma, military service, and the emotional wounds they never had the space or support to heal. Their addiction affected our family in ways that were both visible and quiet. I barely saw them growing up not because they didn’t love us, but because addiction had taken so much from them that they couldn’t show up consistently. That absence created gaps in our family dynamic that I didn’t fully understand until I got older. As I grew up, I started to see how substance abuse doesn’t just affect the person using it ripples through generations. It shapes relationships, communication, trust, and even the way families learn to cope with pain. My understanding of addiction became even more personal when I began working in environments where people come in vulnerable, scared, and desperate for help. I’ve had strangers walk into workplaces shaking, crying, or confused because they were withdrawing, relapsing, or trying to find a way out of the cycle. Those moments reminded me of my own family of the pain that sits underneath addiction and the humanity that still exists inside people who are struggling. My experience with substance abuse has influenced my beliefs in a profound way. I don’t see addiction as a moral failure or a lack of willpower. I see it as a response to pain, trauma, and unmet needs. I’ve watched people turn to substances because they believed it was helping them survive, only to find themselves trapped in something far more dangerous. I’ve seen how prescription drugs can become a gateway when someone is trying to manage pain, and how quickly that can spiral when the medication runs out. In healthcare settings, we see this often patients who become dependent on something that was supposed to help them and then seek it elsewhere when the system can no longer provide it. The danger grows when substances are laced with fentanyl or other chemicals that can kill someone after a single use. These realities have shaped my commitment to harm reduction, education, and compassionate intervention. My career aspirations are rooted in these experiences. As a future medical social worker, I want to support individuals and families who are navigating substance abuse, whether it’s alcohol, opioids, or other drugs. I want to be a person who listens without judgment, who understands the generational patterns, and who can help people access treatment, resources, and hope. I want to work with healthcare teams to identify early signs of addiction, advocate for safer prescribing practices, and support patients who feel ashamed or afraid to ask for help. Most of all, I want to break cycles. I want to help families like mine, families who love deeply but have been hurt by addiction, find healing, stability, and connection. My experience with substance abuse hasn’t defined me, but it has shaped my purpose. It taught me that healing is possible, that compassion matters, and that every person deserves a chance to reclaim their life.

My name is Mya Sears, and I am a junior Social Work major pursuing a career in pediatric and psychiatric medical social work. My path into healthcare wasn’t shaped by a single moment, but by a lifetime of experiences that taught me how deeply people need to feel seen, heard, and supported, especially during their most vulnerable moments. I grew up navigating my own emotional and mental health challenges, and instead of letting those experiences silence me, they became the foundation of my purpose. They showed me what it feels like to need help and not know where to turn, and they taught me the power of having even one person who listens without judgment. That is the kind of professional I am working to become. I chose healthcare because social workers bring something essential to the field: emotional intelligence, advocacy, and the ability to see the whole person, not just a diagnosis or a chart. In hospitals and clinics, medical teams often focus on symptoms, treatment plans, and measurable outcomes. Social workers step into the spaces in between. We sit with families during a crisis, help them understand complex systems, connect them to resources, and advocate for their needs when they don’t have the words or the strength to do it themselves. We help bridge the gap between medical care and human experience. My current internship at a senior assisted living center has strengthened my commitment to this work. Every day, I see how much of healthcare happens outside of medicine through trust, communication, and compassion. I’ve learned how to conduct assessments, support residents through difficult emotions, collaborate with interdisciplinary teams, and advocate for safety and dignity. These experiences have prepared me for the work I hope to do with children and families in hospital settings. As a future pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker, the difference I want to make is rooted in empathy and advocacy. I want to be a person who listens when a child is scared, who believes a young girl when she says something feels wrong, who supports a family trying to navigate a new diagnosis, and who stands up for patients who feel overlooked or dismissed. I’ve been treated poorly by healthcare professionals before, and I know how damaging it can be when someone minimizes your pain or talks over you simply because they know more medical terminology. I want to help change that culture. Healthcare should never feel like a race for answers or a hierarchy of knowledge; it should feel like a partnership. My goal is to create safer, more compassionate experiences for children and families. I want to help reduce health disparities, strengthen communication between medical teams and patients, and ensure that every person I work with feels valued and understood. If I can help even one child feel less alone, one parent feels more supported, or one family feel more hopeful, then I will be honoring the purpose that brought me into this field. This scholarship would help me continue my education and move closer to becoming the kind of healthcare professional I needed when I was younger and the kind, I know so many children need today.

Education has been the guiding force that shaped my goals, strengthened my sense of direction, and helped me understand the kind of future I want to build for myself and others. It has not always been an easy journey, but it has been one filled with growth, clarity, and determination. For me, education is not just a requirement it is a pathway to independence, stability, and purpose. It is the tool I am using to rise above the challenges I faced growing up and to create a life that my younger self never imagined she could have. From a young age, I understood that education would be the key to changing my circumstances. I grew up without financial stability, and that shaped the way I saw the world. I knew early on that if I wanted a different life one where I didn’t have to worry about money, security, or opportunity I would have to work for it. No one was going to hand me the future I wanted. I had to build it myself. That realization became the foundation of my academic drive. As I got older, I discovered my passion for mental health and my desire to become a medical social worker, specifically in pediatric or psychiatric settings. I want to support children and families who feel unseen, unheard, or misunderstood. I want to be the person who helps them navigate emotional challenges, trauma, and the complexities of the healthcare system. To do that, I know I need the right education and credentials. I need a bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, and eventually my LCSW so I can become a licensed clinical social worker. These steps are not optional they are essential for me to reach my dream career and to earn the salary and stability that will allow me to support myself and my future family. Education has given me direction by showing me exactly what I need to do to reach my goals. It has also taught me discipline, resilience, and patience. I have always struggled with academic anxiety because I am a perfectionist when it comes to school. I want everything I submit to be my best work, and sometimes that pressure becomes overwhelming. But instead of letting it stop me, I use it as motivation. I remind myself that the work I am doing now is shaping the life I want to live later. I remind myself that every assignment, every class, and every late night is bringing me closer to becoming the professional I dream of being. One of the biggest challenges I have overcome is learning to trust myself. Growing up, I often felt like I had to figure everything out alone. Even though my parents encouraged me to pursue higher education, I was the one who pushed myself the hardest. I was the one who filled out applications, studied for exams, and kept going even when I felt like giving up. I had to learn that I am capable, that I am strong, and that I deserve the future I am working toward. That self‑belief did not come easily, but it has become one of the most important parts of my journey. Another challenge has been navigating adulthood while still trying to understand who I am. At twenty‑one, I am experiencing many things for the first time independence, responsibility, and the pressure of building a future. There are moments when I feel lost or unsure, moments when I question whether I am doing enough or whether I am on the right path. But every time I feel that doubt, I remind myself why I started. I remind myself of the little girl who dreamed of stability, happiness, and a life where she didn’t have to worry. I remind myself that I am creating the future she prayed for. Education has also helped me understand the kind of impact I want to make. I don’t just want a career I want to make a difference. I want to help children who feel alone, families who feel overwhelmed, and communities that have been overlooked. I want to use my degree to advocate for mental health resources, to challenge stigma, and to create safe spaces for healing. I want to be the person who listens, supports, and guides others through their hardest moments. My education is giving me the tools to do that. In the future, I hope to use my education to create programs that support children’s mental health, especially in underserved communities. I want to work in hospitals, clinics, or schools where I can make a direct impact. I want to be part of the change that makes mental health care more accessible, more compassionate, and more culturally informed. I want to help build a world where no child feels like their struggles are too big or too invisible to be acknowledged. Ultimately, my education is shaping me into the person I want to become someone who is strong, compassionate, and committed to making a better tomorrow. It is giving me direction, purpose, and the confidence to keep moving forward. I am not just working toward a degree; I am working toward a life filled with meaning, stability, and service. And I know that every step I take is bringing me closer to the future I am determined to create.

Faith has always been present in my life, even as my understanding of it has changed with time, experience, and growth. I grew up in a Christian household, attending a church that sat right up the street from my home a church my parents also attended when they were young. I went to Bible study, participated in the children’s programs, and learned early what it meant to pray, trust, and believe in something greater than myself. As a child, faith felt simple and steady, like a foundation I didn’t have to question. It was woven into my routine, my community, and the way I understood the world. As I got older, especially now at twenty‑one, faith became more complicated. Adulthood brings challenges that childhood never prepared me for, and there have been moments when I felt lost, unheard, or unsure of what I believed. There were times when I felt like my prayers were falling on deaf ears or like I was facing everything alone. Those moments made me question not only my faith, but also my strength, my purpose, and the path I was trying to build for myself. I learned that faith is not always a loud, confident certainty. Sometimes it is quiet, fragile, and shaped by doubt. Even through those doubts, something in me held on not necessarily to the same version of faith I grew up with, but to the values that faith instilled in me. I still believe in kindness. I believe in maintaining a pure heart, even when life feels heavy. I believe in treating people with compassion because emotional connection is one of the most powerful forces we have. I believe that something ties us all together, even when our lives look different on the surface. My faith may not look the same as it once did, but it still guides the way I move through the world and the way I show up for others. Faith has also shaped my academic journey, even in moments when I felt disconnected from it. There were times when I questioned whether I was capable, whether I was strong enough, or whether I was meant to succeed. In those moments, I had to learn to trust myself. I had to learn that faith is not only about believing in God it is also about believing in the person you are becoming. Pursuing higher education was not just a dream encouraged by my parents; it became a promise I made to myself. Growing up without financial stability taught me that education could open doors that had always felt closed. I knew that earning a bachelor’s degree would give me the chance to build a future where I could stand on my own, support myself, and create a life filled with purpose. While my parents encouraged me to go to college, the truth is that I pushed myself the hardest. I am the one who stayed up late studying, who filled out applications, who kept going even when I felt overwhelmed. I am the person who got me here. That realization has strengthened my sense of purpose. It has shown me that faith is not only something you practice it is something you live. It is the courage to keep going when no one is watching. It is the belief that your future is worth fighting for. My future goals are rooted in service, compassion, and community values that align with the legacy of Patricia Lindsey and Eva Mae Jackson. I am pursuing a career in pediatric and psychiatric medical social work because I want to support children and families who feel unseen or unheard. I want to be a source of comfort, clarity, and advocacy for those navigating mental health challenges. My faith, even in its evolving form, has taught me to lead with empathy, to listen deeply, and to show up for others with integrity. Receiving this scholarship would not only support my education it would honor the legacy of two women who believed in uplifting their communities through faith, education, and service. Their values mirror the values I strive to embody every day. Social Media Handles: Instagram: @myasears_ TikTok: @diariesbymya

My name is Mya, and I am a junior Social Work major at Tuskegee University with a deep commitment to serving others, uplifting my community, and building a career in healthcare through pediatric and psychiatric medical social work. Everything I pursue is rooted in compassion, resilience, and a desire to make a meaningful difference in the lives of children and families. When I learned about the legacy of Kalia D. Davis, I felt an immediate connection to her story. Her work ethic, kindness, ambition, and dedication to excellence reflect values that I strive to embody in my own life. Applying for this scholarship is not only an honor but an opportunity to continue the spirit of service and leadership she represented. Sports have played a major role in shaping my character. I began playing basketball at a very young age, coached by my dad, who taught me discipline, teamwork, and confidence. Those early years on the court helped me understand the importance of perseverance and believing in myself even when things felt challenging. Later, I became a competitive cheerleader at Bartlett High School in Bartlett, Tennessee, where I spent three years as both a secondary base and a flyer. I was on junior varsity for two years before earning a spot on varsity my senior year. That year, I also had the privilege of serving as a co‑captain alongside the other senior girls. Cheer taught me leadership, responsibility, and how to support others through encouragement and positivity. It also taught me how to stay grounded under pressure and how to bring energy and joy into every space I entered, something Kalia was known for. Service has always been a core part of who I am. At Tuskegee University, I joined the Service Committee, where I helped write letters to individuals in hospitals, participated in campus‑wide cleanups, assisted with event setup and breakdown, and helped lead kindness initiatives during mental health awareness weeks. We also organized runs for causes we believed in, using our voices and our energy to bring attention to issues affecting our community. These experiences strengthened my belief that small acts of kindness can create lasting change and that leadership is about showing up consistently for others. My passion for healthcare comes from witnessing how deeply mental health affects individuals and families, especially in Black communities where stigma and lack of access often prevent people from receiving the support they need. I want to become a pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker so I can advocate for children, help families navigate difficult moments, and ensure that every young person feels seen, heard, and supported. I want to be the person who brings comfort, clarity, and compassion into medical spaces that can feel overwhelming or intimidating. Receiving the Kalia D. Davis Memorial Scholarship would mean more than financial support. It would be a reminder to continue striving for excellence, to lead with kindness, and to honor Kalia’s legacy through my own work. This scholarship would help relieve financial stress, allowing me to focus more fully on my field placement, my studies, and my long‑term goal of serving children and families in healthcare settings. I hope to honor Kalia’s memory by living with purpose, leading with compassion, and making a meaningful difference in every community I touch.

My name is Mya, and I am a junior Social Work major at Tuskegee University with a deep commitment to serving children, families, and communities through healthcare. My journey into the medical field has been shaped by personal experience, compassion, and a desire to make mental health care more accessible and culturally responsive. While my path is not occupational therapy specifically, my purpose aligns closely with Christina Taylese Singh’s legacy: to help people regain independence, dignity, and hope through care that honors the whole person. I plan to become a pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker, working in hospitals and clinical settings alongside physicians, nurses, therapists, and other healthcare professionals. My goal is to support children and adolescents who are navigating trauma, chronic illness, mental health challenges, or instability at home. I want to be the person who listens, advocates, and helps families understand the medical and emotional complexities they are facing. Too often, children especially Black children are misunderstood, overlooked, or dismissed. I want to change that. My interest in healthcare began long before I understood the terminology. Growing up, I witnessed how mental health struggles affected people I loved. I saw how stigma, lack of access, and cultural misunderstandings prevented many from receiving the care they needed. These experiences opened my eyes to the gaps in our healthcare system and inspired me to pursue a career where I could help bridge those gaps. I learned that healing is not just about treatment; it is about trust, representation, and understanding the whole person. That belief is what led me to medical social work. My education at an HBCU has strengthened my purpose in ways I never expected. Tuskegee University has given me a community that reflects my identity, honors my history, and pushes me to lead with empathy and excellence. Being surrounded by Black scholars, professors, and future healthcare professionals has shown me the importance of representation in medicine. It has taught me that my voice matters and that my presence in healthcare spaces can make a real difference for families who rarely see themselves reflected in their providers. My field placement at a senior assisted living facility has also shaped my development. I support residents with life‑story updates, emotional care, and advocacy. These experiences have strengthened my communication skills, deepened my understanding of patient‑centered care, and reaffirmed my desire to work in medical settings. I have learned that healthcare is not just about treating symptoms it is about honoring humanity, building trust, and supporting people through some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives. Receiving the Christina Taylese Singh Memorial Scholarship would be deeply meaningful. Christina’s dedication to occupational therapy, her commitment to education, and her passion for helping others reflect the values I hope to carry into my own career. This scholarship would allow me to focus more fully on my academic work, field placement, and professional development without the financial strain that often weighs heavily on students of color. It would support my journey toward becoming a healthcare professional who uplifts, advocates, and empowers. I hope to honor Christina’s legacy by continuing the work she was preparing to do helping people heal, regain strength, and feel supported. My purpose is to serve with compassion, advocate with courage, and help build a healthcare system where every child and family feels seen, valued, and understood.

My journey toward a career in medicine has been shaped by lived experience, cultural identity, and the belief that Black communities deserve compassionate, culturally grounded healthcare. Although my path leads me toward pediatric and psychiatric medical social work rather than becoming a physician, my purpose aligns with the heart of medicine: healing, advocacy, and improving health outcomes. I want to stand at the intersection of mental health and medical care, supporting children and families as they navigate complex emotional and physical challenges. My commitment to this work began long before I understood the language of healthcare, but attending an HBCU has given that commitment direction, confidence, and purpose. Growing up, I witnessed how mental health struggles often went unaddressed in Black families due to stigma, lack of access, or fear of being misunderstood. I saw people I loved suffer in silence because they did not have someone who listened, advocated, or believed them. These experiences opened my eyes to the deep inequities in healthcare and inspired me to pursue a career where I could help bridge those gaps. I wanted to be someone who could sit with people in their hardest moments, help them feel seen, and guide them toward resources that support healing. Tuskegee University has played a transformative role in shaping my goals and values. Being surrounded by Black excellence every day has strengthened my confidence and reminded me that representation is not optional in medicine it is essential. Tuskegee has taught me that leadership is rooted in service, cultural humility, and a commitment to uplifting others. My professors challenge me to think critically, advocate boldly, and approach every client with empathy. My peers inspire me to dream bigger and push harder. My HBCU has given me a community that reflects my identity, honors my history, and fuels my purpose. My field placement has also shaped my development. Working in an assisted living facility, I support residents with life‑story updates, emotional care, and advocacy. These experiences have strengthened my communication skills, deepened my understanding of patient‑centered care, and reaffirmed my desire to work in medical settings. I have learned that healthcare is not just about treating illness it is about honoring humanity, building trust, and understanding the whole person. These lessons will guide me as I transition into pediatric and psychiatric medical social work, where children and families need support that is both clinically informed and culturally sensitive. Receiving The Junie Project Scholarship would directly support my growth as a future healthcare professional. Financial support would allow me to focus more deeply on my academic work, field placement, and professional development. It would help me access additional training and certifications that strengthen my ability to serve children and families effectively. Most importantly, it would allow me to continue my education without the financial strain that disproportionately affects Black students, especially Black women. This scholarship would also support my mission to help bridge the diversity gap in medicine. Black families deserve healthcare providers who understand their cultural experiences, advocate for their needs, and challenge systemic inequities. As a future medical social worker, I will help ensure that children receive equitable, compassionate, and culturally informed care. I will mentor younger students, uplift my community, and contribute to a healthcare system where every child feels safe, supported, and valued. My journey is still unfolding, but my purpose is clear: to serve, to advocate, and to help transform healthcare from within.

My name is Mya, and I am a proud Black woman, a first‑generation college student on a full‑ride Presidential Scholarship at Tuskegee University, and a future pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker. Everything I am working toward is rooted in service, healing, and representation. I come from a family and a community that taught me the value of resilience, compassion, and education, even when resources were limited. Those lessons shaped my purpose and continue to guide the way I show up in the world. Growing up, I saw firsthand how deeply mental health challenges affect individuals and families especially in Black communities where stigma, lack of access, and systemic inequities often silence people who are hurting. I learned early that many people suffer quietly because they don’t have someone who listens, advocates, or believes them. That realization is what led me to pursue social work. I want to be the person who shows up with empathy, cultural understanding, and a commitment to making sure no one feels invisible. As a junior majoring in Social Work, I am already gaining hands‑on experience through my field placement at a senior assisted living center. I support residents with life‑story updates, care coordination, emotional support, and advocacy. These experiences have strengthened my belief that social workers are essential in every healthcare setting. We are the ones who see the whole person not just their diagnosis. We are the ones who bridge the gap between medical teams and the lived experiences of patients and families. I plan to carry that same dedication into pediatric and psychiatric settings, where children and adolescents desperately need adults who take their emotions seriously. My long‑term goal is to work in a hospital or clinical environment where I can support children facing trauma, mental health crises, chronic illness, or instability at home. I want to create safe spaces where young people feel heard, validated, and empowered. I also want to help families navigate complex systems, understand treatment plans, and access resources that promote long‑term stability. Beyond direct practice, I hope to advocate for policy changes that expand mental health access, especially in underserved communities. Representation matters, and I want to be part of the growing number of Black women leading in healthcare, shaping policy, and challenging inequities from within. In my community, I plan to continue uplifting others through mentorship, education, and advocacy. I want to help young Black girls see themselves in fields where they are underrepresented. I want to normalize conversations about mental health, challenge stigma, and create spaces where healing feels possible. Whether through workshops, school partnerships, or community programs, I hope to build networks of support that strengthen families and empower youth. The legacy of Michele L. Durant resonates deeply with me. Like her, I believe in lifelong learning, in pushing boundaries, and in using education as a tool for liberation. This scholarship would not only support my academic journey it would honor her commitment to empowering Black women to lead, achieve, and transform their communities. I am committed to making a difference. I am committed to serving with compassion. And I am committed to carrying forward the kind of impact that uplifts generations.

As a social work student preparing for a career in mental health, I rely on a wide range of online platforms, tools, and digital resources to deepen my understanding of the subjects I study. These tools not only help me grasp complex concepts but also strengthen my ability to apply knowledge in real‑world settings. Each resource plays a unique role in my academic growth, and together they have shaped me into a more confident, organized, and reflective learner. One of the most essential platforms I use is Canvas, which serves as the central hub for my coursework. Canvas keeps my assignments, readings, lectures, and field placement materials organized in a way that helps me stay on track academically. Being able to revisit modules, review instructor feedback, and participate in discussion boards allows me to engage with course content more deeply. The platform also exposes me to diverse perspectives from classmates, which is especially valuable in a field like social work where cultural humility and empathy are essential. To support my research and writing, I frequently use academic databases such as Google Scholar, JSTOR, and the Encyclopedia of Social Work. These platforms give me access to peer‑reviewed articles, intervention models, and evidence‑based practices that directly inform my understanding of mental health. They help me evaluate sources critically, identify gaps in research, and connect scholarly findings to real client situations. This skill is crucial in mental health work, where interventions must be grounded in both evidence and cultural awareness. I also rely on APA and MLA citation generators, which help me format my references accurately and efficiently. These tools ensure that my academic writing meets professional standards and allow me to focus more on the quality of my analysis rather than the mechanics of citation formatting. Using citation generators has strengthened my attention to detail and helped me avoid common formatting errors. In addition, I use Microsoft Copilot, ChatGPT, summarizing tools, and paraphrasing generators as supplemental learning aids. These tools help me break down complex theories, rehearse reflective communication, and practice client‑centered language in a safe, low‑pressure environment. Summarizing tools allow me to condense dense academic articles into key points, making it easier to understand and apply the material. Paraphrasing tools help me rephrase information in my own words while maintaining academic integrity, which strengthens my writing and comprehension. Generative AI tools also help me practice mandated reporter language, refine client introductions, and explore different ways of phrasing sensitive questions in developmentally appropriate and trauma‑informed ways. These tools do not replace my critical thinking they enhance it by giving me opportunities to practice, reflect, and improve. Finally, I use professional mental health websites such as NASW, NIMH, and APA to stay informed about ethical guidelines, policy updates, and emerging research. These resources help me understand how systemic issues, cultural factors, and social determinants of health shape client experiences. They reinforce the importance of advocacy, equity, and evidence‑based practice in mental health work. Together, these online platforms and tools have transformed the way I learn. They help me move beyond memorizing information and toward truly understanding how to apply it in real‑world settings. They have strengthened my communication skills, improved my academic writing, and increased my confidence as a future mental health professional. Most importantly, they have helped me develop the critical thinking, empathy, and adaptability needed to support individuals, families, and communities with compassion and competence.

My name is Mya Sears and I'm currently pursuing a bachelor's degree at Tuskegee University. My decision to pursue a degree related to mental health is rooted in a combination of personal experience, community awareness, and a deep desire to create the kind of support I once needed. Growing up, I faced my own mental and emotional challenges without always having the language, tools, or safe spaces to express what I was going through. I learned early that struggling in silence can feel isolating, especially in communities where mental health is misunderstood, minimized, or treated as something to hide. Those experiences didn’t break me they shaped me. They opened my eyes to the gaps in care, the stigma that keeps people from seeking help, and the urgent need for professionals who lead with empathy, cultural understanding, and patience. That realization is what pushed me toward the mental health field. As I got older, I began to notice how many young people around me were dealing with similar challenges. Some were overwhelmed, some were hurting, and many didn’t know where to turn. I saw how easily children and adolescents could be dismissed or labeled instead of being listened to. That is what inspired my passion for pediatric and psychiatric social work. Kids deserve adults who take their emotions seriously. They deserve someone who will advocate for them, help them understand what they’re feeling, and connect them to resources that can support their growth and healing. I want to be that person someone who shows up consistently, listens without judgment, and creates a safe environment where young people feel seen and valued. My own mental health journey taught me that healing is not linear. It taught me that people don’t need to be “fixed” they need to be supported, understood, and empowered. It also taught me that mental health care must be accessible and culturally sensitive. In many marginalized communities, conversations about mental health are still met with silence or stigma. I want to help change that narrative. I want to be part of breaking generational patterns that tell people to “push through” instead of reaching out. My goal is to normalize seeking help and to make mental health services feel welcoming rather than intimidating. Pursuing a degree in social work allows me to turn my lived experience into purpose. It gives me the opportunity to transform what I’ve learned both academically and personally into meaningful action. I want to help children and families navigate difficult moments with clarity and compassion. I want to be the person who bridges the gap between what someone is feeling and the support they deserve. Not everyone can do this work, and that is exactly why I feel called to it. It requires emotional awareness, resilience, cultural humility, and a genuine commitment to helping others. Ultimately, what drives me is the belief that every child deserves a chance to feel safe, supported, and understood. I want to make a difference in the lives of those who feel overlooked or unheard. Pursuing a degree related to mental health is my way of turning my story into service and helping others find hope in their own.

Understanding the relationship between mental health and identity is essential to personal growth, self-awareness, and emotional well-being. Mental health influences how we view ourselves, how we process our experiences, and how we engage with the world around us. When mental health struggles are present, they can deeply affect one’s sense of identity, often creating a distorted or incomplete understanding of who we truly are. Anxiety, depression, and trauma each have the power to shape thoughts, behaviors, and self-perception in ways that can either limit or eventually strengthen an individual, depending on how those experiences are addressed and understood. For me, mental health has played a significant and lasting role in shaping my identity. I have struggled with anxiety and depression since I was a little girl, and these challenges were heavily influenced by my upbringing and my experiences at school. Growing up, I faced situations that made me feel insecure and uncertain about my worth. I also experienced bullying, which reinforced negative thoughts about myself. I often felt like I was “less than” others, as if I didn’t measure up to the people around me. A major factor that contributed to these feelings was comparison. I would look at other children and notice how their parents were able to provide for them in ways that mine could not. They seemed to have more stable, comfortable, and fulfilling childhoods, and I found myself envying those experiences. Instead of recognizing the differences in our circumstances, I internalized those comparisons and turned them into beliefs about my own value. I began to feel like I wasn’t enough not smart enough, not worthy enough, and not deserving of the same happiness as others. Much of what I went through became internalized trauma. I didn’t talk about my feelings or share my struggles with others. Instead, I kept everything inside, believing that I had to handle it on my own. Over time, those suppressed emotions built up and became overwhelming. Eventually, I reached points where I experienced mental and emotional breakdowns. Those moments were painful, but they were also turning points. They forced me to confront what I had been avoiding and made me realize that I needed help. Seeking help was not easy, but it was necessary. It marked the beginning of my healing journey. Through that process, I began to better understand my emotions, my triggers, and the ways my past had shaped my thinking. I started to see that the negative beliefs I held about myself were not truths, but rather the result of my experiences and the way I had processed them. This realization did not immediately fix everything, but it gave me a foundation to begin rebuilding my sense of self. My mental health experiences have also had a strong impact on my relationships. For a long time, I found myself becoming distant from others. This distance was not because I didn’t care, but because I was trying to protect myself. When you have been hurt or made to feel unworthy, it can be difficult to trust others or to feel safe being vulnerable. Creating emotional distance became a coping mechanism a way to avoid further pain. However, as I have grown and learned more about myself, I have come to understand the importance of boundaries. There is a difference between isolating yourself out of fear and intentionally creating space to protect your peace. I have learned to set boundaries that prioritize my mental and emotional well-being. I no longer feel obligated to please everyone or to sacrifice my comfort for the sake of others. This shift has allowed me to build healthier, more balanced relationships based on mutual respect and understanding. In addition to shaping my relationships, my experiences have influenced how I view the world. I have become more aware of how people behave and how their actions can affect others. I recognize that the world can be both beautiful and challenging, and that not everyone chooses kindness. There are people who judge, criticize, or harm others without understanding their experiences. While I cannot control how others behave, I have learned that I can control how I respond. As I continue to grow, I make a conscious effort to protect my mind and heart. This means being mindful of the environments I place myself in and the people I surround myself with. It also means not allowing negativity or harmful behavior to define my worth. Instead of internalizing those experiences as I once did, I now try to approach them with awareness and strength. I am learning to move through life with intention, choosing peace over chaos and self-respect over approval. Despite the pain and challenges, I have faced, my experiences have given me a strong sense of purpose. My childhood, although difficult, has inspired me to want to create change in the lives of others especially children who may be going through similar situations. I have developed a deep sense of empathy for those who feel unheard, unseen, or misunderstood, because I know what that feels like. Because of this, I aspire to become a pediatric medical social worker. This career path is meaningful to me because it allows me to combine my personal experiences with my desire to help others. I want to advocate for children and ensure that they receive the care, support, and attention they deserve. I want to be someone who listens someone who provides a safe space for children to express themselves without fear of judgment or dismissal. I want to be the kind of adult that I needed when I was younger. I want to create an environment where children feel comfortable sharing their thoughts and emotions, no matter how difficult or personal they may be. I want them to know that their feelings are valid, that their voices matter, and that they are not alone. By offering understanding and compassion, I hope to help them navigate their challenges in a healthier and more supported way.

Take a seat, cuddle your cats if you have any, and get prepared for this colorful ride. Choosing a single Taylor Swift performance that moves me the most feels almost impossible, because every era, every tour, every surprise song, and every reinvention hits me in a different way. Taylor isn’t just a performer to me she’s a storyteller, a visionary, and honestly half my personality at this point. But if I had to choose one performance that truly captures why she means so much to me, it would be the live performances where she transforms her songs into full‑body experiences especially Don’t Blame Me on the reputation Stadium Tour and again on the Eras Tour. There is something almost supernatural about the way she performs Don’t Blame Me. Every time she sings it live, I feel like I’m being lifted out of my body. The lights, the staging, the choir‑like vocals, the way her voice cracks open on the bridge it’s electrifying. That song is already in my top five, but live? It feels like a religious experience. She doesn’t just sing it; she becomes it. The way she throws her whole soul into that performance reminds me why she is one of the greatest performers of our generation. She knows how to turn a stadium into a sanctuary. But the truth is, Taylor has been moving me long before reputation. I grew up with her music and her performances. I love the rock version of We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, Out of the Woods and Wildest Dreams/Enchanted mashups from the 1989 World Tour, and the way she performed False God on SNL in 2019 with that smoky, intimate energy. And of course, anytime she performs All Too Well (10 Minute Version), it feels like time stops. She always jokes, “If you have about ten minutes to spare,” but Swifties know those ten minutes are sacred. What moves me most about Taylor’s performances is the way she builds entire worlds on stage. She doesn’t just sing she creates visuals, stories, and emotions you can feel in your chest. The sets, the lights, the dancers, the band, the props, the symbolism everything is intentional. She’s a mastermind in the truest sense. Swifties joke that we’re always playing chess and checkers trying to decode her Easter eggs, but the truth is, she’s always ten steps ahead. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she loves letting us figure it out. The Eras Tour as a whole is another performance that moves me deeply. It’s not just a concert it’s a celebration of her entire career, her resilience, her evolution, and the way she has grown up alongside her fans. Watching her perform songs from every era feels like watching my own life flash before my eyes. Every album holds a different version of me, and seeing her honor all of them at once is emotional in a way I can’t fully explain. Taylor Swift moves me because she performs with intention, vulnerability, humor, and brilliance. She is a once‑in‑a‑generation artist who knows how to make millions of people feel seen. Her performances remind me why I love music, why storytelling matters, and why art can change people. She inspires me to be creative, to be bold, and to embrace every version of myself. Taylor doesn’t just perform songs. She performs feelings. She performs life. And she performs it in a way only she can.

I became a fan of Sabrina Carpenter long before I ever knew her as the pop star, she is today. I first connected with her through the movies and TV shows I loved Girl Meets World, Sofia the First, Work It, Adventures in Babysitting, Clouds and she always stood out. She was witty, charming, and naturally talented, and even before I followed her music closely, her voice kept appearing in soundtracks that meant a lot to me. It felt like she was quietly becoming a familiar presence in different parts of my life. When I eventually discovered her music, it only deepened my admiration. I’ve been a fan since her early songs like Can’t Blame a Girl for Trying, Thumbs, Exhale, Eyes Wide Open, We’ll Be the Stars, and Sue Me. Even then, she showed so much range and personality. Watching her grow from a young actress into a fully realized artist has been one of the most rewarding parts of being her fan. She has always been talented, but when "emails i can’t send" came out, the world finally started paying attention. The album rollout, the tour, the viral “Nonsense” outros everything she did showed how creative, funny, and intentional she is. She reentered the mainstream with a confidence that proved she wasn’t just another pop girl; she was a storyteller and a visionary. What I love most about Sabrina is how smart she is about her craft. She knows how to build a world around her music, how to create a moment, and how to make people feel something. Her promo ideas, visuals, and performances show how deeply she cares about her art. She’s magnetic on stage, and her music is so catchy and emotionally honest that you can’t help but sing and dance along. She has been in the industry for over a decade and seeing her finally get the recognition she deserves makes me incredibly proud as a longtime fan. But beyond the entertainment, Sabrina has genuinely impacted me on a personal level. Watching her grow into herself has inspired me to reconnect with parts of myself that I had put aside. She makes me want to get back into singing and songwriting things I used to love but drifted away from. She reminds me that creativity is worth pursuing, even when it feels intimidating. Because of her, I’m planning to take vocal lessons and acting classes, not just as hobbies but as real steps toward possibly entering the entertainment industry one day. She makes me believe that it’s not too late to chase the dreams I had when I was younger, and that I don’t have to give up on them before I turn 30. Sabrina Carpenter is more than just a celebrity I admire. She’s someone whose career has shaped my confidence, my creativity, and my willingness to take risks. She inspires me to be bold, to be funny, to be emotional, and to be myself. She shows that you can be multifaceted soft and strong, silly and serious, glamorous and grounded. And she proves that hard work and authenticity can take you far. I’m grateful to be her fan, and I hope I get the chance to see her live on tour one day. Until then, I’ll keep cheering her on and letting her inspire me to keep dreaming and creating.

I chose to pursue a degree in healthcare specifically in social work because I believe that healing is not limited to medicine, procedures, or diagnoses. Healing also requires emotional intelligence, compassion, advocacy, and the ability to see a person as a whole human being rather than a chart or a case number. Social workers bring this perspective into healthcare every single day, and it is one of the reasons I feel called to this field. We are the ones who sit with people in their most vulnerable moments, who listen when others are too busy, and who help individuals and families navigate systems that often feel overwhelming or inaccessible. Social work is healthcare, and it is the part of healthcare that ensures no one is left behind. Throughout my life, I have seen firsthand how healthcare systems can fail people especially women, people of color, and individuals with disabilities. I have been treated poorly by healthcare professionals who dismissed my concerns, minimized my pain, or acted as if their medical knowledge made them superior to me. Those experiences shaped me. They taught me exactly what kind of professional I want to be, and more importantly, what kind of professional I refuse to become. I want to be the person who listens, who believes patients, and who never uses medical terminology or authority to silence someone who is simply trying to understand their own body and health. Social work gives me the tools to do that. In this field, we are trained to conduct thorough assessments, provide meaningful interventions, and support individuals, families, groups, organizations, and entire communities. We learn crisis management, resource mobilization, care coordination, and advocacy. We are the bridge between patients and the rest of the healthcare team, helping doctors and nurses see the bigger picture behind a person’s symptoms or situation. We address health disparities, connect people to essential services, and ensure that care is not only medically appropriate but also emotionally and culturally responsive. Social workers often get the “bad end of the stick,” but we continue to show up because we know our work changes lives. As a woman entering the healthcare field, I hope to make a difference by bringing empathy, strength, and advocacy into every space I enter. Women in healthcare have historically been overlooked, underpaid, and underestimated, yet we are the backbone of patient care. We bring perspectives shaped by lived experience, resilience, and emotional depth. I want to use my voice and my training to uplift other women especially those who feel unheard or dismissed in medical settings. I want to be the person who sits beside them, listens without judgment, and reassures them that their concerns matter. I want them to feel supported, respected, and understood, not gaslit or ignored. My goal is to work in pediatric or psychiatric medical social work, where I can support children and families during some of the most challenging moments of their lives. Children deserve adults who see them, protect them, and advocate for them. Families deserve professionals who can guide them through complex medical systems with compassion and clarity. I want to be that person the one who meets people exactly where they are, without assumptions or judgment, and walks with them toward stability, safety, and healing. Pursuing a career in healthcare is not easy, especially for women and especially for women of color. It requires emotional labor, financial sacrifice, and a willingness to confront systems that are not always designed with us in mind. But I am committed to this path because I know the difference I can make.

As a junior majoring in Social Work, I am at a point in my academic journey where I am balancing the realities of my present responsibilities with the financial planning required for my future. College has always been an important part of my long‑term goals, but the rising cost of higher education makes it increasingly difficult for students like me BIPOC, working, and living with disabilities to pursue our dreams without facing significant financial strain. Even though I am fortunate to have a Presidential Scholarship that currently covers my tuition and on‑campus housing, I am already preparing for the financial challenges that lie ahead. My goal is to complete my bachelor’s degree, enter a one‑year advanced standing MSW program, and begin my career without being overwhelmed by debt that could follow me for decades. One of the biggest financial transitions I am preparing for is my move to off‑campus housing during my senior year. This decision is not based on luxury or preference alone it is rooted in practicality and accessibility. Next year, I will be completing a full‑time internship, commuting Monday through Friday for eight hours a day. My placement is located off campus, and living closer to my internship site will significantly reduce the physical and financial strain of daily travel. As a student with disabilities, having stable, accessible, and convenient housing is essential for my well‑being and my ability to meet the demanding schedule of fieldwork. However, moving off campus means taking on new expenses that my current scholarship does not cover, including rent, utilities, transportation, and food. These are costs I must plan for now so I can remain stable and focused during my final year. Beyond my senior year, I am also preparing for the financial responsibilities of graduate school. My goal is to enter a one‑year advanced standing Master of Social Work program immediately after completing my bachelor’s degree. This pathway is important to me because it allows me to enter the field sooner and begin serving children, families, and communities in need. However, graduate school comes with significant expenses tuition, fees, textbooks, licensing exams, and the additional certifications I hope to earn to strengthen my clinical and professional skills. Even though I do not currently have student debt, I know that pursuing my MSW without financial support would likely require loans that could take years to repay. I want to avoid starting my career with a financial burden that could limit my opportunities or delay important milestones in my life. To address these challenges, I am taking proactive steps now. I work part‑time while balancing my academic responsibilities, and I consistently apply for scholarships, grants, and funding opportunities that can help reduce my future financial burden. I am intentional about researching program costs, planning ahead for licensing fees, and identifying resources that will allow me to register for classes, complete my MSW, and obtain the credentials I need to be fully prepared for professional practice. I am also learning to budget more effectively, prioritize essential expenses, and make decisions that support both my academic success and my long‑term financial stability. Applying for this scholarship is part of that preparation. Receiving this support would allow me to transition into off‑campus housing without financial hardship, remain stable during my full‑time internship, and begin saving for the costs associated with graduate school. It would also help me avoid taking out loans, allowing me to enter the field of social work with financial freedom and the ability to focus fully on serving others. My long‑term goal is to work in pediatric or psychiatric social work.

Mental health has played a significant role in shaping my life, influencing how I see myself, my relationships, and the world around me. My journey has not been easy, but it has taught me resilience, self-awareness, and the importance of perseverance through even the most difficult moments. At sixteen, I made the difficult decision to come out to my parents as bisexual. I was the first person on both sides of my family to openly share my identity, which made the experience even more challenging. In a family where homophobic tendencies exist, I knew there was a risk in being honest. Many people in similar situations choose to stay silent, but I chose to speak my truth. That moment required courage, but it also added another layer to my mental health struggles as I navigated fear, vulnerability, and acceptance. As I got older, these experiences began to weigh on me more heavily. I often felt overwhelmed and struggled with persistent thoughts that led to suicidal ideation. Although I have never acted on these thoughts, they have been difficult to manage. They often come from emotional exhaustion rather than a true desire to die. Trying to balance these internal struggles while maintaining school and relationships has been challenging. One of the hardest parts of mental health struggles is that they are invisible. From the outside, everything can seem normal, while internally there is a constant battle. This has taught me that people are often dealing with more than we can see, which has made me more compassionate and understanding toward others. Despite these challenges, I have found ways to persevere. Writing has become one of my most important coping mechanisms. When my thoughts feel overwhelming, I write them down, label my emotions, and try to make sense of them. This helps me separate what I can control from what I cannot. I have learned that not every thought needs to be believed, and not every feeling will last forever. I have also learned to appreciate small victories. Whether it is getting through a difficult day or managing my thoughts in a healthier way, these moments remind me that I am making progress. Growth does not have to be big to be meaningful and recognizing that has helped me build confidence. These experiences have shaped my goals for the future. I want to pursue a career where I can help others who may be struggling with their mental health or identity. I understand how isolating it can feel, and I want to provide support and compassion to those who need it. Although my journey is ongoing, it has shaped me into a more resilient and empathetic person. I have learned that perseverance is not about avoiding struggle, but about continuing forward despite it. My experiences have taught me strength, and they continue to motivate me to build a future rooted in hope.

My journey with suicidal thoughts and emotional hardship has been shaped by a combination of childhood trauma, anxiety, stress, bullying, and periods of financial instability within my family. Growing up, I often carried worries that many children should not have to think about. While I would eat breakfast and lunch at school, I sometimes came home wondering if there would be enough food for dinner, or if my parents would have money left after paying bills to make sure all five of us could eat. That uncertainty created a constant sense of anxiety and instability that followed me throughout my childhood. At the same time, I struggled with feeling powerless. Many of the decisions that affected my life were out of my control, and although my parents may have believed they were doing what was best, I often felt the impact in ways that were difficult to process. Over time, these experiences built up and contributed to my struggles with mental health. I began to experience suicidal ideation not as something I acted on, but as thoughts that would surface during overwhelming moments. Living with these thoughts is challenging. They can become repetitive and, at times, feel almost normal, even though they are not. There have been moments when my mind has gone to dark places, not necessarily because I truly wanted to die, but because I felt mentally and emotionally exhausted. These thoughts can be time-consuming and difficult to escape, especially when they are tied to long-standing stress and unresolved emotions. Despite this, I have learned that having these thoughts does not define who I am. One of the most important lessons I have gained is that mental health requires active effort and care. Healing is not a straight path, and it does not happen overnight. It is something I continue to work on every day. One of the ways I have found resilience is through writing. When my thoughts feel overwhelming, I write them down, label my emotions, and try to understand what I am feeling. This helps me separate what I can control from what I cannot. It gives me a sense of clarity and allows me to process my emotions in a healthier way. Over time, I have learned that not every thought needs to be believed or acted on, and that feelings, even intense ones, can pass. I have also learned to appreciate small victories. There are moments when I overcome something difficult or manage my emotions in a healthier way, and those moments matter. They remind me that I am making progress, even if it is not always visible. These small wins have helped me build confidence and recognize my own strength. Through my experiences, I have developed a deeper sense of empathy for others. I understand what it feels like to struggle internally while trying to function on the outside. Because of this, I try to approach others with kindness and understanding, knowing that everyone may be dealing with challenges that are not immediately visible. Finding hope has not meant that everything is perfect it means that I have learned to keep going despite the challenges. My journey has taught me resilience, self-awareness, and the importance of coping mechanisms that support my well-being. I am still learning and growing, but I now see that as part of my strength. Being a survivor of suicidal thoughts means choosing, again and again, to move forward. It means recognizing that even in difficult moments, there is still a reason to keep going. My story is not only about struggle, but about perseverance and the ongoing effort.

Alzheimer’s disease and other forms of dementia are illnesses that do not just affect one individual they impact entire families and communities. While I have not always fully understood the depth of these conditions, I have come to recognize their emotional, mental, and social toll through experiences within my community and through my growing interest in the healthcare field. These experiences have shaped my understanding of how devastating dementia-related illnesses can be, while also strengthening my desire to pursue a career dedicated to helping others. In my community, I have witnessed how dementia can slowly take away a person’s independence and sense of identity. Individuals who were once strong, independent, and deeply involved in the lives of others begin to experience memory loss, confusion, and personality changes. This transformation does not happen overnight, which makes it even more difficult for families. Watching someone you love gradually to forget important moments, faces, and even parts of themselves is heartbreaking. It creates a sense of grief that exists even before the person is physically gone. I have also seen the impact on caregivers, who often carry the emotional and physical burden of supporting their loved ones. Family members step into roles they may not have been prepared for, balancing caregiving with their own personal responsibilities. The stress, exhaustion, and emotional weight that come with this responsibility are significant. However, I have also witnessed incredible strength, patience, and love from those caregivers. Their dedication has shown me what it truly means to care for someone, even in the most difficult circumstances. Through these observations, I have learned that dementia is not just a medical condition it is a deeply human experience that requires compassion, understanding, and support. It has taught me the importance of empathy, especially when working with individuals who may not be able to communicate or express themselves clearly. Something as simple as patience, a calm tone of voice, or a reassuring presence can make a meaningful difference in someone’s day. These experiences have also highlighted the importance of awareness and research. Alzheimer’s disease and other forms of dementia continue to affect millions of individuals and families, yet there is still so much that is not fully understood. Seeing the impact of these illnesses has made me realize how critical it is to invest in research that can lead to earlier diagnoses, better treatments, and, ultimately, a cure. It has inspired me to consider how I can contribute to this effort through my own education and career. As someone who plans to pursue a career in a helping profession, I am particularly interested in how healthcare and research can work together to improve the lives of those affected by dementia. Whether through direct patient care, advocacy, or involvement in research, I want to be part of the effort to support individuals and families facing these challenges. I am especially interested in learning more about the neurological and psychological aspects of these diseases, as well as the social factors that influence care and access to resources. In addition to shaping my career goals, these experiences have influenced how I approach relationships and interactions with others. I have learned to be more patient, more attentive, and more understanding. I recognize that everyone may be facing challenges that are not immediately visible, and that kindness and compassion can go a long way. This perspective is something I carry with me in my daily life and will continue to guide me in my future career. Another important lesson I have learned is the value of community support. Families dealing with dementia often rely on external resources such as healthcare providers, support groups, and community programs. When these resources are available and accessible, they can make a significant difference in the quality of life for both patients and caregivers. This has reinforced my belief in the importance of advocating for stronger healthcare systems and increased access to support services. The story of Henry Respert and his journey with dementia reflects the experiences of so many individuals and families. It is a reminder of how important it is to continue raising awareness and supporting research efforts. His legacy, along with the experiences of others affected by these illnesses, serves as motivation for students like me to pursue paths that can lead to meaningful change. Overall, the impact of Alzheimer’s disease and other dementia-related illnesses on my community has shaped my understanding of the challenges they present and the importance of addressing them. It has taught me empathy, patience, and the value of compassionate care. Most importantly, it has inspired me to pursue a future where I can contribute to improving the lives of those affected, whether through healthcare, research, or community support. I am committed to using my education and experiences to make a positive difference and to be part of the ongoing effort to better understand and combat these diseases.

One of the most meaningful relationships in my life has been with my social work professor, whom I met during the spring semester of my freshman year. From the very beginning, she stood out to me not only as an educator, but as someone who truly cared about her students and their growth. Over time, she became more than just a professor to me she became a mentor, a role model, and a major influence on both my personal development and my future career path. She is, without a doubt, my favorite professor, and the impact she has had on my life is something I will carry with me for years to come. What makes this relationship so meaningful is her depth of knowledge and real-world experience. She has been in the field of social work for over three decades and continues to practice through private work. Because of this, everything she teaches is grounded in reality. She doesn’t rely solely on textbooks or lectures; instead, she brings real-life scenarios into the classroom while always maintaining strict confidentiality. Hearing about real situations without compromising anyone’s privacy has allowed me to better understand the complexity of people’s lives and the responsibility that comes with being in a helping profession. Her teaching style is one of the most impactful aspects of our relationship. She creates an environment where students are encouraged to think critically, speak openly, and truly engage with the material. One of the ways she does this is through role-playing exercises, where we step into the role of a social worker and respond to different situations. These activities challenge us to think on our feet, practice empathy, and consider the best ways to support individuals in need. We also work in groups to come up with solutions for different cases, identifying appropriate services and connecting clients to community resources. These experiences have helped me grow in confidence and have given me a clearer understanding of what social work looks like in practice. Through these classroom experiences, I have learned that social work is not just about having knowledge it is about how you apply that knowledge with compassion, patience, and understanding. My professor emphasizes the importance of meeting people where they are, listening without judgment, and recognizing that every individual’s situation is unique. These lessons have stayed with me and have influenced the way I interact with others, both academically and personally. Beyond what she teaches, it is how she carries herself that has made the greatest impression on me. She treats every student with respect and kindness, creating a safe and supportive space where we feel comfortable sharing our thoughts and perspectives. She listens attentively, offers thoughtful guidance, and encourages us to believe in our abilities. Seeing the way, she interacts with us has taught me the importance of being present and intentional in my relationships. It has shown me that meaningful connections are built through trust, empathy, and genuine care. Because of this relationship, I have become more mindful of how I build connections with others. I strive to listen more carefully, to be less judgmental, and to approach situations with an open mind. I have learned that sometimes people do not need immediate solutions—they need to feel heard and understood first. This has changed the way I communicate with my peers, my family, and others in my community. I try to be someone who offers support, encouragement, and a sense of understanding, just as my professor has done for me. Additionally, this relationship has strengthened my passion for pursuing a career in social work. Before taking her class, I knew I wanted to help people, but I did not fully understand what that would look like in practice. Through her guidance and mentorship, I now have a clearer vision of the kind of professional I want to become. I want to be someone who not only provides resources and services but also builds meaningful relationships with clients and advocates for their needs. I want to make a difference in people’s lives in a way that is both impactful and compassionate. This relationship has also shown me the power of mentorship and the importance of having someone who believes in you. Her encouragement has motivated me to push myself academically and personally, and it has given me the confidence to pursue my goals with determination. It has reminded me that even one supportive relationship can make a significant difference in someone’s life.

Growing up, I learned early on what it means to rely on the kindness and dedication of others. Whether it was teachers who stayed after school to help me understand difficult material, healthcare workers who cared for my family during challenging times, or community members who gave their time to support those in need, I saw firsthand how powerful service can be. Those experiences shaped not only my perspective on the world but also the path I hope to follow in my own life. I come from a low-income background where opportunities are not always easy to access, and success often requires resilience, determination, and support from others. While there have been obstacles, these challenges have strengthened my desire to give back. They have shown me that behind every struggle is a person who could benefit from compassion, guidance, and advocacy. I want to be one of the people who steps in to make a difference when it matters most. As I look toward my future career, I plan to pursue a path in pediatric or psychiatric medical social work. My goal is not only to build a stable career for myself but also to serve individuals and communities who may feel overlooked or underserved. I am particularly passionate about helping people who face barriers similar to those I have experienced whether financial, educational, or social and ensuring they have access to the resources they need to succeed. In my career, I hope to create meaningful change on both an individual and community level. On a personal level, I want to provide direct support whether that means caring for patients, advocating for families, teaching students, or developing programs that address real needs. On a broader level, I hope to contribute to systems that promote fairness, accessibility, and opportunity for all. Even small actions, when multiplied over time, can create lasting impact. What inspires me most is the idea that helping others is not just a profession, but a lifelong mission. Like Robert F. Lawson, whose service did not end with his military career, I believe that making the world a better place requires ongoing commitment. It means showing up, listening, and taking action wherever there is a need. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of my education but also allow me to focus more fully on preparing for a career dedicated to service. More importantly, it would represent an investment in my goal to give back to others and continue the cycle of support that has helped shape who I am today. I am committed to using my education and future career to uplift others, create opportunities, and contribute to a more compassionate and equitable world. Through hard work, empathy, and perseverance, I hope to honor the spirit of service that this scholarship represents and make a meaningful difference in the lives of others.

The change I wish to see in the world is simple to name but complex to achieve I want to see a world where people are treated with dignity, protected from harm, and given the resources they need to live healthy, stable lives. Too many forms of injustice hunger, poverty, racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, unequal pay, domestic violence, and barriers to healthcare continue to shape the daily experiences of millions of people. These issues may look different on the surface, but at their core, they all stem from the same problem: a lack of compassion and a lack of commitment to equity. I want to be part of changing that. Hunger and poverty are two of the most urgent issues. No one should have to wonder where their next meal is coming from or whether they can afford a safe place to sleep. These are basic human needs, yet they remain out of reach for far too many families. Poverty also intersects with nearly every other form of injustice people who are struggling financially are more vulnerable to exploitation, discrimination, and violence. Addressing poverty means addressing the systems that keep people trapped in cycles they didn’t create. I also want to see a world where people can exist freely without fear of judgment or violence because of who they are. Homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and racism continue to harm people emotionally, physically, and economically. These forms of discrimination don’t just show up in hateful comments they show up in hiring practices, school discipline, healthcare access, housing opportunities, and the way people are treated in everyday spaces. Everyone deserves the right to live authentically and safely, without having to shrink themselves to survive. Gender inequality is another issue that needs urgent attention. Women continue to face unequal pay, limited opportunities, and higher expectations with fewer resources. Domestic violence remains a widespread crisis, and too many women are left without protection or support. Reproductive healthcare, including abortion care, is also essential. People deserve the right to make decisions about their own bodies, especially when their health, safety, or ability to provide for a child is at risk. These decisions are deeply personal, and access to safe, affordable care can be life‑saving. Universal healthcare is another change I hope to see. Healthcare should not be a privilege reserved for those who can afford it. It should be a basic right. When people can’t access medical care whether physical or mental their entire lives are affected. Communities suffer when people are forced to choose between paying bills and getting treatment. Free, universal healthcare would allow people to live healthier, longer, and more stable lives. The reason I care so deeply about these issues is because they all connect to the work I want to do as a social worker. Social work is about meeting people where they are, understanding the barriers they face, and helping them access the support they deserve. I want to be part of building a world where children grow up safe, families have the resources they need, and people are treated with respect regardless of their identity or circumstances. The change I want to see is a world rooted in compassion, fairness, and humanity and I plan to spend my career helping move us closer to that reality.

Adversity has shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand until I got older. For most of my childhood, I struggled with something I didn’t have the words for yet anxiety. In elementary school, I was painfully shy and introverted. I barely spoke to my teachers, avoided raising my hand, and kept my distance from other students. On the outside, it looked like I was just quiet. On the inside, I was overwhelmed by constant worry, fear of embarrassment, and a feeling that something was always “too much.” What no one saw were the silent panic attacks I experienced at my desk, in the bathroom, or on the bus ride home. I didn’t know how to explain what was happening, so I kept everything inside. As I got older, the anxiety didn’t disappear it grew with me. The panic attacks became more intense, and the pressure of pretending everything was fine became exhausting. I didn’t want to be a burden, and I didn’t want anyone to think I was dramatic or “too sensitive.” So, I stayed quiet, even when it hurt. That silence was its own kind of adversity. It taught me how heavy it feels to carry emotions alone and how isolating it can be when you don’t feel understood. It took years before I finally received a diagnosis earlier this year. Getting that diagnosis was a turning point. It didn’t magically fix everything, but it gave me clarity. I started medication, began learning how to describe my emotions, and finally understood that what I was experiencing had a name and that I wasn’t weak or broken. One thing that helped me visualize my emotions was thinking about the movie Inside Out. The way Riley’s emotions each had their own voice and purpose helped me understand that my feelings weren’t the enemy. They were signals, and I needed to learn how to listen to them instead of fighting them. Overcoming this adversity wasn’t about “getting rid” of anxiety. It was about learning how to live with it, understand it, and advocate for myself. I learned how to communicate what I’m feeling instead of shutting down. I learned that asking for help is not a failure it’s a form of strength. And I learned that my voice matters, even when it shakes. This experience shaped the person I am today and the career I’m pursuing. As a social work major, I want to support children who feel the same confusion and fear I once felt. I want to be the adult who notices the quiet kid in the back of the room, the one who seems fine but is carrying more than anyone realizes. I want to help children with special needs, mental health challenges, and emotional struggles feel seen, supported, and safe. My adversity didn’t just shape me it gave me purpose. If I could give advice to someone facing the same circumstances, I would tell them this: your silence is not a flaw. Your emotions are not too much. And you deserve support, even if you don’t know how to ask for it yet. Start small. Tell one person how you feel. Give your emotions names, even if they don’t feel perfect. And most importantly, remember that you are not alone. Healing takes time, but it is possible and your voice is worth hearing.

Sgt. Albert Dono Ware’s legacy represents a kind of courage that goes beyond the battlefield. His life reflects service rooted in responsibility, sacrifice made for the well‑being of others, and bravery that requires showing up even when the world feels uncertain. Those values have shaped my personal journey in ways I didn’t fully understand until I began studying social work. Growing up, I struggled with anxiety and often felt like my voice didn’t matter. I was quiet, introverted, and afraid of taking up space. But as I got older, I realized that silence can also be a form of survival especially for Black communities who have historically been punished for speaking up. Learning about people like Sgt. Ware helped me understand that bravery doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it looks like choosing to keep going, choosing to care, and choosing to serve even when the world makes it difficult. Those values service, sacrifice, and bravery are at the core of why I am pursuing a career in social work. I want to serve communities that have been overlooked, dismissed, or misunderstood. I want to support children and families who carry the weight of generational trauma, systemic inequities, and emotional burdens that they didn’t create. And I want to do it with the same sense of purpose that Sgt. Ware embodied: not for recognition, but because it is necessary. The African diaspora in the United States continues to face challenges that require both courage and collective action. Mental health disparities, lack of access to culturally responsive care, economic inequality, educational barriers, and the criminalization of Black youth are just a few of the issues that shape our daily realities. As someone who has personally struggled with mental health and only recently received the support I needed, I understand how damaging it can be when systems fail to recognize our pain. Too often, Black children are labeled “defiant” instead of anxious, “aggressive” instead of overwhelmed, or “behind” instead of unsupported. These patterns are not accidents they are the result of policies, biases, and structures that were never designed with our well‑being in mind. My vision for addressing these challenges is rooted in creating environments where Black children and families feel safe, validated, and understood. As a future pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker, I want to be part of reshaping how mental health is approached in Black communities. That means advocating for early intervention, culturally informed assessments, and trauma‑responsive care. It means challenging the stigma that tells Black families to “push through” instead of seek help. And it means building systems where emotional well‑being is treated as a necessity, not a luxury. To create meaningful change, we need reforms that address both policy and community needs. One critical area is expanding access to culturally competent mental health services. This includes increasing funding for school‑based mental health programs, requiring cultural humility training for healthcare providers, and ensuring that assessments consider cultural context rather than pathologizing it. Another essential reform is strengthening support for families of children with special needs, including streamlined access to services, better communication between schools and healthcare providers, and policies that protect families from discrimination in educational and medical settings. We also need community‑centered reforms that empower the African diaspora from within. This includes investing in community health workers, peer support networks, youth mentorship programs, and safe spaces where Black children can express themselves without fear. These reforms must be shaped by the people who are directly affected not imposed from the outside. The key stakeholders in this work include social workers, educators, healthcare providers, policymakers, community organizers, parents, and most importantly Black youth themselves. Too often, decisions are made about our communities without our voices. Real change requires collaboration across systems, but it also requires listening to the people who live the realities we are trying to address. Social workers like me must be at the table, not only providing services but also shaping policy, challenging harmful practices, and advocating for equity at every level. Sgt. Albert Dono Ware’s legacy inspires me because it reminds me that service is not passive. It is active, intentional, and rooted in love for one’s community. His bravery encourages me to use my voice even when it shakes to advocate for children who feel invisible, for families who feel unheard, and for communities that deserve more than survival. I want my career to reflect that same commitment: to show up, to stand firm, and to serve with purpose.In honoring his legacy, I hope to create a future where the African diaspora is not defined by struggle, but by strength, healing, and possibility.

When I think about a moment when I struggled to use my voice, I always go back to my childhood. In elementary school, I was extremely shy and introverted so quiet that teachers sometimes forgot I was in the room. Speaking felt like stepping into a spotlight I never asked for. My anxiety made even simple things, like answering a question or asking for help, feel overwhelming. I kept everything inside, and the pressure of holding in all that worry slowly turned into silent panic attacks. At the time, I didn’t have the words to explain what was happening to me. I just knew that my chest felt tight, my thoughts raced, and I wanted to disappear before anyone noticed how scared I was. For years, I carried that anxiety quietly, convincing myself that staying silent was safer than risking being misunderstood. It wasn’t until much later earlier this year that I finally received a diagnosis and began medication that helps me manage those feelings. Getting that diagnosis felt like someone finally turning on the lights in a room I had been stumbling through for years. I could finally name what I was experiencing instead of blaming myself for not being “brave enough” or “outgoing enough.” One thing that helped me understand my emotions better was thinking about the movie Inside Out. Riley’s emotions Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger, and Disgust each had their own voice, their own purpose, and their own way of reacting to the world. For a long time, my “Fear” and “Sadness” were running the control panel, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone. Now, with support, therapy, and medication, I’m learning how to let all my emotions exist without letting them take over. I’m learning how to describe what I feel instead of hiding it. And most importantly, I’m learning that having a voice doesn’t mean being loud it means being honest. That journey has shaped the way I want to use my voice moving forward. I want to help others especially children who feel the same confusion and fear I once felt. Kids often don’t have the language to explain their emotions, and adults sometimes mistake their silence for disinterest or defiance. I know what it feels like to be dismissed, to be overwhelmed, and to feel like no one notices the storm happening inside you. That’s why I’m pursuing social work. I want to be the adult who pays attention, who listens, and who creates a safe space for kids to express themselves without fear of judgment. My voice today is different from the one I had as a child. It’s steadier, clearer, and more confident not because my anxiety disappeared, but because I learned how to understand it. I learned that vulnerability is not weakness; it’s connection. I learned that speaking up doesn’t always mean speaking loudly; sometimes it means telling the truth about what you feel, even when it’s uncomfortable. In the future, I hope to use my voice to advocate for children with special needs, mental health challenges, and emotional struggles. I want to help them find their own voices, just like I found mine. My goal is to create environments where no child feels invisible, where their emotions are taken seriously, and where they know they have someone in their corner. If my younger self could see me now, she’d be proud not because I’m fearless, but because I finally learned how to speak through the fear.

My name is Mya, and I am a junior social work major who is passionate about creating safe, supportive environments for individuals with special needs. What drew me to this field wasn’t a single moment it was a combination of my own experiences, the people I’ve met, and the gaps I’ve seen in the systems meant to support vulnerable populations. Growing up, I struggled with my own emotional and mental health challenges, and I often wished there were more adults who understood, listened, and offered guidance without judgment. As I got older, I realized that many children especially those with special needs face similar challenges but with even fewer resources. That realization pushed me toward social work, a field where I could turn my experiences into purpose and become the kind of support I once needed. I plan to make a positive social impact by becoming either a pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker. Children with special needs often navigate a world that doesn’t fully understand them. They are labeled before they are listened to, and their behaviors are judged before their experiences are explored. I want to change that. My goal is to create spaces where children feel safe expressing themselves and where families feel supported rather than overwhelmed. Whether a child is dealing with developmental delays, behavioral challenges, chronic health conditions, or emotional struggles, they deserve adults who see their strengths, not just their diagnoses. I want to be someone who helps them access the tools, services, and supportive communities that allow them to thrive. Working in medical settings is especially important to me because hospitals and clinics can be intimidating for families. Many parents don’t know what questions to ask, what resources exist, or how to advocate for their child’s needs. As a social worker, I want to bridge that gap. I want to help families understand their options, connect them to services, and feel confident navigating systems that often feel confusing or dismissive. Children with special needs deserve care that is patient, culturally aware, and grounded in dignity. I want to be part of the group of professionals who make that possible. My internship at an assisted living center has also shaped my understanding of what it means to support people with unique needs. Even though the population is different from pediatrics, the lessons are the same: people want to feel respected, heard, and valued. I’ve learned how important it is to slow down, observe, and meet people where they are. I’ve also seen how much of a difference it makes when someone takes the time to build trust. These experiences have strengthened my commitment to serving individuals with special needs and have shown me that social work requires patience, emotional awareness, and genuine compassion. I want to use my education to create environments where children with special needs feel protected, understood, and encouraged. I want to challenge the stigma that still surrounds disability and mental health, especially in marginalized communities. I want to advocate for better access to services, more inclusive practices, and systems that treat every child with dignity. Not everyone can do this work, and that’s exactly why I feel called to it.

I am pursuing a degree in social work because my own experiences with mental and emotional challenges showed me how powerful it is to have someone who listens, supports, and guides you without judgment. Growing up, I didn’t always have the language to explain what I was feeling, and I didn’t always know where to turn. That confusion stayed with me, and as I got older, I realized how many other young people feel the same way especially those who come from marginalized communities where mental health is often misunderstood or minimized. Instead of letting my struggles discourage me, they pushed me toward a career where I could become the kind of support I once needed. Social work gives me the opportunity to turn what I’ve learned into something meaningful for others, and that is why I am committed to this field. I want to become a pediatric or psychiatric medical social worker because children deserve adults who take them seriously. Kids are our future, but they are also people right now with emotions, fears, and needs that matter. Too often, children are dismissed, labeled, or overlooked when they’re struggling. I want to change that. My goal is to create environments where young people feel safe, heard, and understood. Whether they are dealing with mental health challenges, medical issues, or difficult home situations, they deserve someone who will advocate for them and help them access the tools, services, and resources that can support their well‑being. I want to be that person. Working in pediatric or psychiatric medical settings also matters to me because these are places where families often feel overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. I want to help them navigate those moments with clarity and compassion. Social workers play a crucial role in healthcare we bridge the gap between medical information and human experience. We help families understand what’s happening, connect them to support systems, and make sure they don’t feel alone. Not everyone can do this work, and that’s exactly why it’s so important. It requires patience, emotional awareness, cultural understanding, and a genuine commitment to helping others. I know I have those qualities, and I want to use them to make a difference. My own mental health journey has shaped the way I see people and the way I want to show up for them. It taught me that healing isn’t linear, and it isn’t something people should have to figure out by themselves. It also taught me that mental health care needs to be accessible, culturally sensitive, and free of judgment. These beliefs guide my career aspirations and the kind of social worker I want to become. I want to help young people understand their emotions, build coping skills, and feel supported in ways that I didn’t always have growing up. I want to be part of breaking the stigma around mental health, especially in communities where silence has been the norm for too long.

My name is Mya, and I’m a junior social work major who has always been drawn to the emotional worlds of other people. Even before I had the language for it, I paid attention to the things people didn’t say out loud the tension in their shoulders, the way their voice changed when they were overwhelmed, or the quiet moments when they needed someone to sit with them. Over time, I realized that this wasn’t just sensitivity; it was a natural pull toward understanding people and wanting to make their lives a little easier. That instinct is what led me to social work, and it’s the foundation of the impact I hope to make within marginalized communities. I plan to use my degree to work in pediatric medical social work, a field where emotional support and advocacy can change the entire trajectory of a family’s experience. Marginalized communities often face layers of barriers that go unnoticed cultural stigma around mental health, limited access to care, and systems that weren’t built with them in mind. My goal is to be someone who helps families navigate those systems without feeling judged, rushed, or dismissed. I want to create spaces where children feel safe expressing their emotions and where parents feel supported rather than overwhelmed. Whether I’m helping a family understand a diagnosis, advocating for accommodations, or simply being a steady presence during a difficult moment, I want my work to reflect respect, cultural awareness, and genuine care. My own experiences with mental health have shaped the way I see the world and the kind of professional I want to become. I’ve learned how heavy emotions can feel when you don’t have the right support, and how transformative it is when someone finally listens without minimizing your experience. Those moments taught me that mental health isn’t a luxury it’s a basic need. They also pushed me to challenge the silence that often surrounds mental health in Black communities. Instead of accepting the idea that we should “push through” everything, I’ve become more vocal about the importance of emotional well‑being, rest, and vulnerability. These experiences didn’t just influence my beliefs; they shaped my activism. I’ve become more intentional about advocating for accessible, culturally responsive mental health care and encouraging open conversations that break stigma rather than reinforce it. Instead of seeing my education as something that only benefits me, I see it as a tool I can use to shift the experiences of people who rarely receive the care, attention, or understanding they deserve. I want to enter the mental health field as someone who brings clarity into confusing systems, comfort into overwhelming moments, and representation into spaces where marginalized voices are often missing. My goal isn’t just to support individuals in crisis, but to help reshape the environments that contribute to those crises in the first place. I want to challenge the barriers that make mental health care feel inaccessible or intimidating, especially for Black families and communities who have been historically dismissed or misunderstood. The more I learn, the more I realize that meaningful change comes from showing up consistently, asking better questions, and refusing to overlook the people who are easiest for society to ignore. That is the kind of professional I’m working to become someone who uses knowledge, empathy, and cultural awareness to make mental health care feel safer, more human, and more equitable for everyone.

My name is Mya, and I am a junior social work major at an HBCU, working toward a career in pediatric medical social work. What led me to this field is a combination of who I am and what I’ve witnessed growing up. I’ve always been someone who notices the small things how a child shuts down when they feel misunderstood, how families struggle to navigate complicated systems, and how much of a difference it makes when someone takes the time to listen. Over the years, I realized that I wanted to be that person who listens, supports, and advocates. Social work became the perfect path because it allows me to combine empathy, problem‑solving, and a genuine desire to help others in a way that feels meaningful and aligned with my values. When I think about who my hero is, I don’t think of a single person I think of music and songwriting. Music has always been the thing that grounds me, comforts me, and helps me make sense of my emotions. Songwriting, especially, feels like a form of storytelling that turns feelings into something you can hold. As a huge Taylor Swift fan, I’ve learned how powerful it is when someone puts their experiences into words in a way that makes others feel understood. Her music taught me that vulnerability is strength, that emotions deserve space, and that storytelling can change the way people see themselves. Taylor Swift’s ability to capture complex feelings and turn them into something meaningful has influenced the way I approach social work. She reminds me that everyone has a story worth listening to, and that sometimes the smallest details a lyric, a moment, a memory can make someone feel seen. Music has been my hero because it has carried me through difficult times, inspired my creativity, and taught me how to connect with others on a deeper level. It’s a reminder that healing doesn’t always come from big gestures; sometimes it comes from understanding, expression, and being heard. If awarded this scholarship, it would directly support my educational goals by easing the financial pressure that comes with being a full‑time student. I rely heavily on my parents for financial support, and because I do not currently work, covering expenses such as tuition, housing, textbooks, and transportation can be challenging. As a junior in the BSW program, I am also completing an internship at an assisted living center, which requires a significant time commitment and limits my ability to take on outside employment. Receiving this scholarship would relieve some of the financial strain on my family and allow me to stay fully focused on my coursework, field responsibilities, and preparation for entering the social work profession. It would give me the stability I need to continue progressing toward my degree without the constant worry of how I will manage essential academic costs.

My name is Mya, and my journey into the field of social work has been shaped by a lifelong desire to support children and families who often feel overlooked or misunderstood. I’ve always been someone who pays attention to people’s emotions, body language, and unspoken needs. Over time, I realized that these instincts weren’t just personality traits they were signs that I was meant to work in a field centered on empathy, advocacy, and human connection. As a junior social work major at an HBCU, I’ve grown into someone who not only wants to help others but understands the responsibility, skill, and cultural awareness required to do that work well. Social work gives me the opportunity to combine compassion with action, and that is what led me to this field. I am especially passionate about making a difference in the lives of individuals with special needs. Children with disabilities or chronic health conditions often navigate systems that are confusing, overwhelming, and not always designed with their best interests in mind. My goal is to become a pediatric medical social worker so I can support these children and their families in hospital and clinical settings. I want to help them understand diagnoses, connect them to resources, and feel empowered rather than intimidated. I plan to advocate for accommodations, ensure their voices are heard, and create environments where they feel safe, respected, and included. Every child deserves someone who sees their strengths before their challenges, and I want to be that person. My volunteer experiences have played a major role in shaping the kind of social worker I hope to become. When I was younger, I was a Girl Scout, and that experience taught me early on what it means to serve your community. Whether we were participating in small service projects or learning leadership skills, I gained a sense of responsibility and teamwork that still guides me today. Later, as a cheerleader, I participated in fundraisers selling sheets, cookies, and coupons for a local BBQ restaurant. At the time, it felt like a normal part of being on a team, but looking back, it taught me how to communicate with people, advocate for a cause, and stay committed to a goal even when it required effort and persistence. More recently, I served as a member of the Service Committee at Tuskegee University for a semester. That experience helped me understand service on a deeper level. It wasn’t just about completing hours it was about showing up consistently, being reliable, and understanding the impact of small acts of kindness. These experiences strengthened my empathy, communication skills, and sense of community responsibility, all of which are essential in social work. I do have financial need. As a full‑time student balancing coursework, field preparation, and campus involvement, it can be challenging to cover tuition, housing, textbooks, and other academic expenses. Even though I do have a scholarship there are other expenses we have to pay for. Scholarships help relieve that pressure and allow me to stay focused on my education and career goals. Financial support would make it possible for me to continue pursuing opportunities that prepare me to serve children and families without being held back by financial strain. Ultimately, my journey, my volunteer experiences, and my education have all led me to this point. I am committed to becoming a social worker who listens deeply, advocates boldly, and supports individuals with special needs with compassion and respect. I want to make a meaningful difference one child, one family, and one community at a time.

My journey to this point has been shaped by determination, self‑discovery, and a commitment to creating opportunities that didn’t always exist for me growing up. I’ve had to learn how to advocate for myself, how to navigate systems that weren’t always designed with me in mind, and how to keep going even when the path felt uncertain. What has carried me forward is the belief that my story matters and that I have the ability to build a future that reflects my values, my goals, and the kind of impact I want to make. Becoming a social work major wasn’t a random decision it was the result of years spent observing how deeply children and families are affected by the environments around them. I’ve seen how a lack of support can change the trajectory of someone’s life, and I’ve also seen how one person’s compassion, consistency, and advocacy can make all the difference. That realization is what pushed me toward this field and what continues to motivate me as I work toward becoming a pediatric medical social worker. Attending an HBCU has been one of the most meaningful experiences of my life. It is more than a school it is a community that feels like home. Being at an HBCU means being surrounded by people who understand my experiences without me having to explain them. It means learning in an environment where Black excellence is the norm, not the exception. It means being taught by professors who see potential in me that I sometimes struggle to see in myself. At my HBCU, I am not just a number or a seat in a classroom; I am a young Black woman whose voice, identity, and dreams are valued. The sense of belonging I feel here has helped me grow academically, professionally, and personally. It has given me confidence, pride, and a deeper understanding of the legacy I am part of. HBCUs were built to nurture, uplift, and empower Black students, and being part of that legacy means carrying forward the strength, resilience, and brilliance of those who came before me. It means knowing that I am walking on ground shaped by leaders, innovators, and changemakers and that I have a responsibility to continue that tradition. My choice to study social work is directly connected to the difference I want to make for my family and community. I come from a background where mental health, emotional support, and access to resources were not always openly discussed or easily available. I want to change that. I want to be someone who helps families navigate difficult systems, who supports children through moments of fear or uncertainty, and who advocates for those who often feel overlooked. As a pediatric medical social worker, I plan to work directly with children facing health challenges, helping them understand what they’re experiencing while also supporting their families through the emotional and practical aspects of care. I want to make sure families feel informed, respected, and empowered not intimidated or dismissed. My goal is to bring compassion, cultural awareness, and strong advocacy into every space I enter. For my family, pursuing this career means breaking cycles and creating new possibilities. It means showing younger relatives that they can pursue careers that make a difference, that they can take up space in professional environments, and that their voices matter. It means being someone they can look up to not because I am perfect, but because I am committed to growth, service, and purpose. For my community, it means using my education to address real needs. Many families especially Black families face barriers in healthcare, education, and social services. I want to help break those barriers by advocating for equitable treatment, culturally responsive care, and accessible resources. I want to be part of the solution, not just someone who observes the problems. Ultimately, my journey, my HBCU experience, and my career goals all connect to one central purpose: to uplift, support, and advocate for children and families who deserve to be seen and heard. I want to use my education not just to build a career, but to create meaningful change. Attending an HBCU has strengthened my sense of identity and purpose, and studying social work has given me the tools to turn that purpose into action. I am committed to making a difference one child, one family, and one community at a time.

My career goal of becoming a pediatric medical social worker will allow me to support both the social‑emotional well‑being and the intellectual needs of gifted children in a meaningful and intentional way. Gifted children often experience the world with a level of intensity that can be both exciting and overwhelming. They may think far beyond their age group, feel emotions deeply, and pick up on things that many adults overlook. While these strengths can help them excel academically, they can also create challenges such as anxiety, perfectionism, social isolation, or feeling “different” from their peers. Because of this, gifted children need support that recognizes their whole experience, not just their academic abilities. As a future pediatric medical social worker, I want to create environments where gifted children feel emotionally safe, understood, and validated. Many gifted kids struggle with managing big emotions or navigating social situations, especially when their emotional development doesn’t match their intellectual abilities. In my role, I hope to help them build coping skills, emotional regulation strategies, and confidence in expressing themselves. I want to be someone who listens without judgment and helps them feel grounded during moments when their thoughts or feelings feel too heavy. Supporting their social‑emotional well‑being is essential because gifted children cannot thrive academically if they are overwhelmed internally. At the same time, gifted children have unique intellectual needs that deserve attention. Their curiosity, creativity, and advanced thinking require learning environments that challenge them rather than hold them back. As a pediatric medical social worker, I plan to collaborate with families, teachers, and healthcare teams to advocate for enrichment opportunities, individualized learning plans, and activities that stimulate their minds. Whether that means recommending advanced coursework, creative outlets, or specialized programs, I want to help ensure that gifted children have access to resources that match their abilities. Meeting their intellectual needs is not just about academic acceleration it’s about nurturing their passions, encouraging exploration, and helping them develop a strong sense of identity. Ultimately, my goal is to support gifted children as whole individuals. I want to help them feel emotionally supported while also making sure their intellectual strengths are recognized and nurtured. By combining advocacy, empathy, and collaboration, I hope to create pathways that allow gifted children to grow into confident, well‑rounded young people who feel empowered both academically and emotionally. My future career in pediatric medical social work gives me the opportunity to make that kind of impact, and that is what motivates me to continue pursuing this path.