Reimagining Education Through a Class on Empathy, Healing, and Advocacy If I could create a class that every K–12 student would be required to take, it would be titled Empathy, Healing, and Advocacy: Life Skills for a Just World. This course would teach students how to understand themselves and others, navigate life’s challenges with emotional intelligence, and become advocates for change in their communities. I envision this class as a blend of social-emotional learning, mental health awareness, and community empowerment, something I wish I had during my early years in school. As someone who returned to college later in life, earned my Associate and Bachelor’s degrees while raising a family, and now works in student affairs at Morton College, I’ve seen firsthand how young people carry invisible burdens that deeply impact their learning. I’ve also witnessed the power of empathy and advocacy in transforming not just students, but entire communities. This course would start with teaching students how to build trust and set boundaries, skills often overlooked in traditional curricula. Students would explore emotional literacy, mindfulness, and self-regulation strategies. Drawing from real-life scenarios, they’d learn how to recognize signs of trauma, support friends in crisis, and seek help without shame. Middle and high school students would dive into topics like restorative justice, identity development, social inequities, and systems of oppression, empowering them to analyze the world around them and use their voices for good. The class would be project-based and community-centered. Younger students might create vision boards or kindness campaigns. Older students could partner with local nonprofits, write to legislators, or organize student-led forums on mental health or equity. The goal is to raise a generation of thinkers and doers who not only understand the world, but feel empowered to shape it. This idea isn’t abstract for me. As an advocate for survivors of domestic violence and founder of a nonprofit that supports families affected by abuse, I’ve seen the healing power of community and education. At Morton College, I helped launch mindfulness meditation sessions for nursing students and vision board workshops that helped them affirm their goals before exams. These “non-academic” moments often yield the most transformative outcomes. In a time when youth mental health is in crisis, school violence is rising, and social divides are widening, this course could be a lifeline. It would destigmatize asking for help, normalize vulnerability, and reinforce that every student has the capacity to be both healed and a healer. I believe it would reduce bullying, improve classroom behavior, and even prevent future trauma by nurturing compassion early on. My dream is to take what I’ve learned in my Higher Education and Student Affairs graduate program at National Louis University and use it to redesign how we support students, not just in college, but starting from the very first days of school. I want to be a part of reimagining education as a tool not only for academic success but for holistic, heart-centered growth. This scholarship would support me on that journey. By investing in me, you are investing in someone who is already doing the work, and ready to do more. The class I propose may not exist yet, but with the right support, I’ll be one of the educators who brings it to life.

Guided by Love: My Journey to Support Students with Special Needs From an early age, I have been drawn to the quiet strength and unique brilliance of individuals who learn, think, and feel differently. My passion for becoming a special education teacher was not born from textbooks or a career guide, it was born from years of serving, advocating, and walking alongside those who are often overlooked or misunderstood. As an advocate for domestic violence and sexual assault survivors since 2017, I’ve seen the resilience of the human spirit. Through this work, and my own life as a mother, caregiver, and mental health advocate, I’ve come to believe that every person, especially those with disabilities, deserves a teacher who sees their potential and nurtures it with patience, creativity, and love. My journey is rooted in caregiving. I know what it means to show up when it's hard. I understand the emotional weight and the beautiful reward of holding space for someone’s struggle. I have mental health certificates, and I’ve practiced trauma-informed care, learning how to meet people where they are. But more than anything, I have heart and a calling to be present for students who need someone to believe in them, advocate for them, and celebrate them in ways that honor who they are. The donor’s quote deeply resonates with me. To teach students with special needs requires more than skill, it requires a spirit of surrender. You must be flexible like a jellyfish, able to shift with the currents of your students’ emotional and cognitive needs. You must have the compassion of Mother Teresa, because some days you will be the only light in a child’s world. And yes, you must have monk-like focus, because your presence matters more than any lesson plan. For me, this is not a job. It’s a ministry. I don’t serve from obligation. I serve from love. Fairy Tale: Nancy the Gentle Warrior Once upon a time, in a kingdom called Hopewell, there lived a woman named Nancy, a gentle warrior with a heart full of gold. She had the gift of hearing what others could not: the silent cries of misunderstood children, the whispered dreams of those told they’d never learn, and the unspoken fears of students with special needs. Nancy carried a golden book of patience and a mirror that showed each child their worth. Every morning, she would walk into the School of Light and shine like the sun, even when clouds filled the room. When students struggled, she would whisper, “You are not broken, you are beautifully built different.” She used art, music, stories, and love to build bridges between silence and understanding. One day, a shadow tried to steal the children’s joy, spreading doubt and labels. But Nancy stood tall, sword of faith in one hand, compassion in the other. She reminded the world that different doesn’t mean less, it means needed. And so, with each lesson, Nancy rewrote the story of education. Her students didn’t just pass tests, they found their voices. And in doing so, Nancy fulfilled her quest: to make every child feel seen, valued, and powerful. The End… Or rather, the beginning. This scholarship would help me fulfill this mission in real life. I am not just pursuing a degree, I am pursuing a lifelong dream to become the teacher that so many children with special needs are waiting for. A teacher who sees them, supports them, and walks with them into their fullest potential. Thank you for considering my story.

Mental Health Is Personal: My Voice, My Work, My Mission Mental health is more than a topic of discussion for me, it’s a calling rooted in personal experiences and community responsibility. As a student, mother, advocate, and volunteer, I have seen firsthand the impact mental health challenges can have on a person’s academic success, relationships, and sense of self-worth. This is why I have devoted myself to mental health awareness, advocacy, and healing, especially for survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault. Since 2017, I have been a volunteer advocate with Pillars, a nonprofit organization that supports individuals facing domestic violence and sexual assault. In this work, I have walked alongside survivors during some of the most traumatic and painful moments of their lives. Whether it’s accompanying them to the hospital, court, or support groups, I show up with compassion and non-judgment. I have been trained in crisis response, trauma-informed care, and mental health first aid, tools that have not only supported others but also helped me better understand my own mental health. As a student, balancing academics with advocacy and motherhood has been overwhelming at times. I have faced anxiety and burnout, and I have learned to prioritize my emotional well-being by practicing mindfulness, seeking therapy, and creating healthy boundaries. My journey has taught me that mental health doesn’t take a break for anyone, not students, not parents, and certainly not survivors. It is something we must tend to daily, like a garden that needs light, water, and time. Advocacy for me is not just about speaking out, it’s about being present. In my college community and personal life, I advocate by organizing mental health awareness events, offering peer support to fellow students, and sharing mental health resources through workshops, wellness activities, and social media. One of my proudest initiatives was introducing mindfulness meditation for nursing students before exams at my college. With the help of my teenage son, who led these sessions, students reported reduced stress levels and increased focus. It showed me that healing is possible when we hold space for one another. Additionally, I use my voice in spiritual spaces, offering prayer, encouragement, and emotional support to those who are silently suffering. I believe healing is holistic, spiritual, emotional, and mental. I stand in the gap for others through intercessory prayer, affirmations, and simply being someone who listens without judgment. What makes this work so important to me is knowing that we are breaking cycles of silence. Many people, especially in communities of color, are told to “pray it away” or “tough it out.” But I believe in changing that narrative. I believe in telling people, especially women and survivors, that it’s okay to not be okay, and even more importantly, that help exists and they are not alone. I am currently pursuing higher education with the goal of continuing my work in student affairs or social services, where I can implement support programs for vulnerable students and advocate for trauma-informed campus policies. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease my financial burden but also honor the emotional labor I pour into my community every day. Mental health matters because we matter. Our stories matter. Our healing matters. And our futures depend on how well we nurture our inner lives. I will continue to use my voice for those who feel voiceless until we all feel seen, heard, and whole.

Scholarship Essay – SnapWell ERG Wellness Grant By Nancy Jeffries Word Count: 581 The moment I realized I had to start taking care of myself came during one of the hardest seasons of my life. My younger son was in eighth grade when he was hospitalized for nearly a month. Doctors ran test after test, but no one could tell us what was wrong. I stayed by his side every single day, watching him lose weight, strength, and energy, until we finally received the diagnosis: Crohn’s disease. As a mother, your instinct is to be strong, for your child, for your family, for everyone. So I did what I had always done: I put on a brave face and powered through. But inside, I was breaking. The stress, the lack of sleep, the constant fear, it was all taking a toll on my body and my spirit. I was running on empty. One night, while sitting alone in the hospital room after my son had fallen asleep, I realized I couldn’t pour from an empty cup anymore. I had spent my life putting others first, my children, my job, my responsibilities, and somewhere along the way, I had stopped caring for myself. That night, I promised myself that I would not only care for my son, but that I would begin caring for me, too. That decision changed my life. I started by taking small steps: walking each morning before visiting hours, saying no to things that drained me, and carving out time to pray and breathe. As my son began managing his health through mindfulness, meditation, and movement, I followed his lead. We began healing together, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Watching him take ownership of his wellness helped me see the importance of doing the same for myself. Since then, wellness has become a core value in my life. I returned to college after 27 years away, not just to pursue my dream of a degree in Social Services, but to model what it looks like to choose growth at any age. I incorporated wellness into my work at Morton College by introducing vision board workshops, open conversations about mental health, and mindfulness practices, like my son’s pre-exam meditation sessions for nursing students. Making my health a priority taught me that self-care is not selfish, it’s survival. It taught me that strength doesn’t always look like grinding through pain; sometimes it looks like pausing, healing, and asking for help. That mindset has prepared me for everything I’m doing now in school and in life. I know how to listen to my body, protect my peace, and advocate for wellness not just for myself, but for my community. The life I’m building today is rooted in that shift. My dream is to open a transitional housing facility for women, especially those recovering from hardship or trauma. I want to create a space where women can rebuild not just their lives, but their sense of self-worth, their emotional wellness, and their belief in brighter futures. That dream was born from my own healing journey. This scholarship would allow me to continue my education and expand my impact. I’m not just studying to earn a degree, I’m working to build systems of support, healing, and hope. And it all started the moment I chose to stop running on empty and started showing up for myself with the same love I’ve always given to others. Thank you for considering my story.

Scholarship Essay By Nancy Jeffries If you had asked me years ago what my dream life looked like, I probably would’ve smiled politely and changed the subject. For a long time, dreaming felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I was focused on surviving, on keeping the lights on, raising my children, and putting one foot in front of the other. But today, I allow myself to dream boldly, not just for myself, but for every woman who’s ever felt like her time had passed. My dream life is rooted in purpose. I see myself standing at the front door of a transitional housing facility I built, welcoming women who are starting over. Women who’ve faced trauma, homelessness, or simply need someone to say, “You still matter.” I see a safe, warm, affirming place where women learn life skills, gain confidence, and discover their own potential. I’m not just dreaming it, I’m working every day to make it real. That dream started with a detour. I became a mother at 17. I was enrolled at Sawyer Business College with big plans to earn my degree, build a career, and create a better life. But soon after starting, I showed up to class and found the doors locked. The school had shut down overnight. I later learned it was a fraudulent institution, and even though I had no degree to show for it, I was still responsible for the loan. With no choice but to work, I started a long journey of providing for my children, pushing my own goals to the side. Life had other tests in store. Years later, when my elder son was in 8th grade, he became seriously ill. He spent nearly a month in the hospital while doctors tried to figure out what was wrong. It was finally diagnosed as Crohn’s disease a chronic, life-altering condition. That moment flipped my world upside down. I had to learn a new way to care for my child, manage his medication and diet, and most of all, be strong when I was scared. Watching him suffer changed me. It deepened my compassion and reminded me how fragile life is, and how strong we are when we have to be. My son has since taken his healing into his own hands through mindfulness, yoga, and meditation. He now leads meditation sessions for college students, helping others the way he once needed help himself. That inspired me to believe again in my own dreams. In 2014, after more than 27 years out of school, I returned to college. I’m now working toward a degree in Social Services, and I’ve never been more motivated. I’ve worked in nonprofits, helped people find jobs, created workshops, and kept showing up, even when I was tired, broke, or afraid. But this next chapter is for me. And for the women I’ll one day serve. Receiving this scholarship would make a world of difference. It would help ease the financial burden that has followed me since that first loan from a school that never delivered. More than that, it would be an investment in the life I’m building, not just for myself, but for every woman who needs a reminder that it’s never too late to begin again. The life of my dreams isn’t flashy, it’s full of purpose, healing, and giving back. I’ve walked through fire to get here, and I’m not done yet. I’m ready to turn every setback into a stepping stone, and with your support, I will. Thank you, Nancy Jeffries

My name is Nancy Jeffries, and I am 56 years old. I am a woman whose life journey has been defined by perseverance, sacrifice, and a deep belief in second chances. After decades of placing others’ needs before my own, I’ve finally come full circle, back to the dream I once had as a seventeen-year-old girl with big goals and a bright future. When I became pregnant during my senior year of high school, I was determined not to let motherhood stop me from building a better life. I enrolled in Sawyer Business College to pursue a degree that would help me support my child. But that dream was shattered when I arrived at school one day to find the doors locked and the college permanently closed. I later learned it had been a fraudulent institution. Despite being a victim, I was still held responsible for paying off the loan I had taken to attend. With no diploma in hand and debt looming, I had no choice but to enter the workforce and provide for my son. For years, I worked tirelessly, taking on various jobs, eventually landing a role at a nonprofit where I taught others job readiness skills and discovered my passion for social work. Life kept moving. I got married, had four more children, and continued to pour all of myself into raising my children. I’m proud to say that they are raising families of their own. But one of the most difficult and transformative moments in my life came when my elder son was in 8th grade. He became severely ill, and for nearly a month he was hospitalized with doctors unable to determine the cause. Watching my child suffer without answers was terrifying. Eventually, he was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a chronic, incurable condition that turned our world upside down. I had to quickly educate myself on how to care for him, advocate for his health, and support him emotionally as he navigated a new reality. That period of our lives reshaped me. It tested my strength as a mother and deepened my compassion for others facing unseen battles. That journey also inspired my son to take ownership of his wellness. Through mindfulness, yoga, and meditation, he found peace and strength. Years later, he began leading meditation sessions for overwhelmed nursing students at Morton College, helping them manage anxiety before exams. His healing journey became a source of healing for others. And through it all, I realized how deeply our personal trials can become the foundation for our service to others. In 2014, after being out of school for over 27 years, I took a leap of faith and returned to college. Like Debra S. Jackson, I found myself starting again at an age when many people are thinking about retirement. But for me, this was the beginning of a new chapter, one centered on growth, purpose, and legacy. I am now pursuing a Masters degree in HESA because I believe in the power of healing, support, and community. I want to offer them the same thing I’ve spent my life fighting for: stability, dignity, and a second chance. Receiving this scholarship would not just ease the financial burden of continuing my education, it would honor the sacrifices I’ve made and the vision I have for helping others. More importantly, it would help me carry forward Debra S. Jackson’s legacy. This is my moment. I am no longer just surviving, I am striving, growing, and finally investing in myself so I can give even more to others. With gratitude, Nancy Jeffries

Essay for B.R.I.G.H.T. (Be.Radiant.Ignite.Growth.Heroic.Teaching) Scholarship Prompt: Tell us about a time when you had a positive impact on a child’s life. Word Count: 743 The moment that stands out most vividly in my memory took place in a quiet classroom, just before a major exam. It was a morning like any other during our Health Sciences nursing exam day at Morton College, where I serve as the administrative assistant to the dean of nursing. But on this particular day, something extraordinary happened, something that reminded me how even the smallest act of care can change the trajectory of a child’s life. My son, Zen Frankie, was just 13 years old when he was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. Watching him battle a chronic illness at such a young age was heartbreaking, but I also witnessed his strength and determination to heal. By the age of 18, Zen had adopted a holistic lifestyle rooted in yoga, mindfulness, and meditation. Today, he is thriving and symptom-free. When we were searching for ways to help our students manage their anxiety before exams, Zen offered to help. He had been studying mindfulness and practicing regularly and was eager to give back. He led his first mindfulness meditation session for a group of overwhelmed nursing students. That morning, at just 18 years old, he calmly guided them through a 15-minute meditation, grounding them in their breath, their purpose, and their potential. After the session, one student approached me with tears in her eyes and said, “I didn’t know how much I needed that. I haven’t felt this calm in weeks.” From that day forward, mindfulness became a regular part of our nursing program. Zen became a role model, not just for the students he helped, but for himself. That moment gave him a sense of purpose and reminded me how powerful it is when young people are trusted with leadership roles and treated as capable of healing others. That experience taught me that making a positive impact doesn’t always require grand gestures. Sometimes it simply means creating a space where someone can show up fully as they are, and allowing a young person like Zen to step into their own light. In my role at Morton College, I’ve been blessed to open many such doors. I believe in building community through compassion, and that often begins with our young people. Over the years, I’ve introduced vision board workshops, incorporated affirmations and motivational tools into our programs, and advocated for open-door communication among staff, students, and faculty. I do this because I remember what it’s like to grow up in a low-income, single-parent household where encouragement wasn’t always easy to come by. As a first-generation college student and mother, I’ve seen both sides of the education system. I know the pressures, the fears, and the doubts that can weigh heavily on a young person’s spirit. I also know the transformative power of just one adult believing in you. For Zen, that was me. For our students, I strive to be that person every single day. Receiving the B.R.I.G.H.T. Scholarship would allow me to continue building bridges for children and young adults, especially those from backgrounds like mine, by furthering my education and expanding my impact. Sierra Argumedo’s story and passion speak deeply to me. Like her, I believe every student deserves to be seen, supported, and loved. This scholarship isn’t just funding; it’s a symbol of the legacy we carry forward, one classroom, one child, and one kind word at a time. Thank you for considering my application and for honoring Sierra’s beautiful vision through this scholarship. With gratitude, Nancy Jeffries