I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) in second grade. While my mom ensured I was placed on medication to manage my symptoms, she also carefully selected my teachers and kept me out of special education classes to protect me from being treated differently, having seen how other students were often treated. By middle school, I began to notice subtle ways I was treated differently. I felt pressured to hide my medication and my diagnosis, and I observed how students who tutored peers with ADHD were praised as if it were a “special accomplishment.” These subtle biases from teachers and peers made me feel different long before I fully understood what that meant. While medication helped me manage symptoms, it couldn’t help me process these experiences or the emotions they brought up. When COVID hit, the challenges I had faced with ADHD and navigating school inequities worsened. Isolation and the loss of loved ones to COVID-19 deepened my depression, while my anxiety grew as I worried about my mom, who was working as a first responder. At the same time, I began questioning whether I still wanted to pursue a career in law. For most of my life, I had believed I was meant to be a lawyer. Everyone told me I’d be great at it — I could talk my way out of anything, I had strong morals, and I wasn’t afraid to stand up for what I believed in. I even attended a summer law camp and felt certain this was my future. After the George Floyd tragedy, however, my perspective shifted. The justice system suddenly felt broken, and I couldn’t imagine devoting my life to fixing something that seemed designed to fail so many people. As I struggled to reconcile my values with a system I no longer believed in, I needed an outlet to process my emotions and understand my place in the world. That’s when I turned to art. I began drawing and writing more intentionally, and over time, I discovered that creating could serve as a true form of therapy. Painting and writing helped me cope, clarify my thoughts, and express emotions I had previously buried. It became clear to me that, unlike a career in law, where even the best intentions often fell short within a flawed system, I could make a direct and meaningful impact on people’s lives. I fully realized that I didn’t want to fight within the system — I wanted to help the people it was breaking. As I explored mental health further, I recognized that art therapy alone would not be enough to reach everyone in need. If art had helped me, I wanted to use it to help others in ways that truly made a difference. I initially planned to become an art therapist or psychologist, studying psychology to help people express emotions they could not put into words. To act on this, I created the D.R.E.A.M. Art Therapy Service Project, donating over 100 art kits and providing tutorial videos for hospitalized children. Through that work, I realized that adolescents need both traditional and nontraditional support, delivered in ways that are accessible and convenient. This understanding inspired me to launch In Love with My Mental, a program that provided workshops and mental health guides to over 200 adolescents, encouraging them to engage with mental health in a practical and stigma-free way. Ultimately, I recognized that to truly support adolescents, I needed to be involved in all aspects of care, including clinical treatment. This realization led me to pursue psychiatry, where I can combine therapy, art, and medication to meet individuals where they are and provide comprehensive support. Integrating multiple approaches ensures that each adolescent has every opportunity to heal and thrive. This journey also reshaped my beliefs. For a long time, I questioned why my path had to change so drastically. I couldn’t understand how something that once felt perfect no longer seemed right. Throughout each stage, I turned to God in prayer — asking Him that if this path is meant for me, to let it be, and if it isn’t, to set me on the right one. Each time I prayed, something aligned — discovering art therapy, creating projects that helped others, or simply finding peace in the process. Through this, my faith deepened, and I realized that purpose isn’t about perfection; it’s about obedience and trust. My experiences with mental health also transformed the way I relate to others. Living with my own struggles taught me compassion, patience, and understanding. I’ve learned to view others not through judgment, but through empathy — to see pain not as weakness but as a sign of strength. When I connect with people who are struggling, I recognize pieces of myself in them. These insights have made me more intentional in how I love, support, and show up for others. All of these experiences have guided my career aspirations. I plan to become a clinical and child psychiatrist specializing in art therapy, blending creativity and science to help people heal in ways that feel personal and accessible. Beyond my practice, I hope to create a mental health art lounge — a space where adolescents can express themselves freely through art while receiving professional mental health support. My goal is to expand this initiative into a curriculum that reaches schools and communities nationwide, providing safe, innovative spaces where healing feels possible and hope feels real. These aspirations are the culmination of everything I’ve learned through my own journey with mental health. My experiences have strengthened my faith, deepened my relationships, and clarified my purpose. They have inspired me to become a psychiatrist who combines therapy, art, and medication to meet people where they are and provide every tool for healing. Through initiatives like the mental health art lounge and school-based curriculum, I hope to transform the way young people experience care — offering hope, restoring confidence, and showing them that no matter how lost or broken they feel, there is always a path to wholeness.

Helping others isn’t something I chose—it’s how my family raised me. I became a Girl Scout at six and joined Top Teens of America at thirteen, experiences that taught me the importance of giving back. In both organizations, I naturally assumed leadership roles and led initiatives that made a tangible difference, motivating me to keep serving others. These experiences showed me that selflessness isn’t about sacrifice alone; it’s about using what you have—time, creativity, and empathy—to meet a need whenever it arises. By that definition, I can see the many ways I’ve embodied selflessness. In 2019, I co-led my Girl Scout Silver Award, D.R.E.A.M., with my Girl Scout sister. We donated over 100 art kits to hospitalized children and provided accompanying art tutorial videos. The hospital thanked us with a certificate, which made me proud—not just for the recognition, but for the difference our supplies could make. That sense of accomplishment carried over into my next initiative, In Love with My Mental. Yet, despite all the planning, energy, and effort I poured into it, I didn’t feel the same fulfillment. I wanted to do more, and no matter how much I achieved, it never felt like enough. I didn’t realize the impact I’d made until a little girl I met during a workshop hugged me and thanked me for coming. In that moment, I understood that selflessness isn’t about completing tasks—it’s about creating moments where someone feels seen, supported, and valued. That hug redefined selflessness for me: it’s not only about what you give, but about the connection and impact your actions have on others. Now, selflessness means being intentional, present, and compassionate—using what I have to help someone feel supported and understood. That lesson stayed with me, shaping how I serve beyond my own initiatives. Through this program, I help with event setup, support participants during activities, and offer companionship throughout the day. Even small acts—like listening or simply showing up—can be meaningful, and the women I’ve worked with have shown me that these moments leave a lasting impression, even when the work feels ordinary. As a college student, I continue to embody selflessness by mentoring a younger student with incredible potential. I don’t always know the perfect way to help, but I strive to be present in the ways she allows—listening, guiding, and showing up. Through this, I’ve learned that selflessness can simply mean being consistently available and supportive. Each of these experiences has shaped who I am. I’ve learned to measure selflessness not by the size of an act or the resources I have, but by the impact I create when I act with intention and care. Whenever I doubt whether I’ll reach my goal of becoming a clinical child psychiatrist specializing in art therapy, I remember that little girl’s hug and the difference I’ve already made. That memory drives me to keep working toward my goals, even in moments of doubt. It also inspires my vision for the future—a space where I can combine my passions, skills, and dedication to help others in meaningful ways. One day, I hope to open a nonprofit mental health art lounge where children and adolescents can use creative expression to heal—a space that combines everything I love: art, psychology, and advocacy. This scholarship will allow me to continue my education and carry on the legacy of service that Michael Rudometkin embodied. I may be one person, but through care, creativity, and dedication, I know I can make a meaningful difference in the lives of others—one hug, one conversation, one act of support at a time.

I once had a panic attack in the middle of a test. I do not remember what the test was on or what grade I got, but I remember not being able to catch my breath. It felt like I was running a race with no finish line. Even then, as I spiraled, my biggest concern was whether anyone would notice—not just because I felt embarrassed, but because I knew they would not be able to help me. People always say, "Just calm down," as if it were that easy. It does not matter that nothing is wrong. Your brain convinces you that everything is. I am not overwhelmed by one thing but by everything, all at once, trapped inside my head. That day, my anxiety attack began with a math question I could not answer. As I worried about getting it wrong, my thoughts spiraled out of control. I imagined failing the test, my grades dropping, and then failing school altogether. Then came the fear of disappointing my family, of becoming a failure, a burden. Before I knew it, I was questioning whether anything mattered at all. The worst part is that sometimes it feels like I bring it on myself, since a side effect of ADHD medication is increased anxiety. Still, my body had never betrayed me like that before. I had never broken down in class, and I was determined not to let it happen again. I started looking for help online, but most of the advice wasn’t intended for someone my age. Tips like taking a day off work or going to a nail salon didn’t fit a teenager’s life. That’s when I realized I would have to find my way to get better. So, I turned to art therapy because it made the most sense for me as an artist. As I used it to process my anxiety, I began to notice a shift—I was healing. Over time, I started using what I learned to help others by organizing mental health donation drives, creating resources, and speaking at events. The more I cared for myself, the more I realized how deeply I wanted to care for others as well. That realization shaped my future and inspired me to become a clinical child psychiatrist specializing in art therapy. I believe it is invaluable to have a provider who understands conditions like ADHD and anxiety not only clinically but also through personal experience. This perspective will allow me to truly meet others where they are and help them cope and overcome. Through my studies, I aim to discover more effective and practical ways to support mental health using nontraditional methods. My goal is to change how help is given to adolescents, especially those who don’t connect with traditional approaches. One way I plan to do this is by creating a nonprofit mental health art lounge. This will be a safe place where adolescents can try art therapy as an alternative way to heal, guided by art experts and mental health professionals. I am also working on a mental health curriculum for elementary schools. This curriculum will build upon a program I have already established, teaching students how to express their feelings, identify early signs of stress, and learn healthy coping strategies from the outset. Although I still struggle with anxiety, mainly because I continue taking ADHD medication that can sometimes make it worse, I have learned skills to manage, reduce, and avoid my triggers. This gives me hope that others can find better too, and that I can help them achieve it.

I’ve been more honest with my sketchbooks than with most people, not because I’m quiet or dishonest, but because saying “I’m not okay” has never come easily. I’ve always been the one who keeps going, even under pressure. When it became too much, I turned to drawing, painting, and writing to process emotions I couldn’t explain. This creative outlet was my first step toward healing. It helped me manage severe anxiety attacks and the daily challenges of living with ADHD. As I learned more about my mental health, I felt a growing need to help others do the same, especially young people who needed support but didn’t know how to ask for it. My first initiative, the DREAM Art Therapy Project, introduced hospitalized children to art therapy by donating over 100 art kits and tutorial videos to the Children's Hospital of Atlanta. Later, I launched In Love with My Mental, a mental health program that reached over 200 adolescents through school workshops and a teen leadership conference in Orlando. The program encouraged open, stigma-free conversations and affirmed that youth emotions are valid and essential. To support ongoing care, I also provided mental health resource guides and self-care kits. Seeing students engage with tools I once needed showed me the power of creative support and that I could become the help I sought. I’m continuing this journey by pursuing a career as a clinical child psychiatrist specializing in art therapy. To prepare, I’m majoring in psychology on the pre-med track at Alabama A&M University, where I’ve maintained a 4.0 GPA while actively participating in campus and academic activities. I serve on the Honors Program Historian Committee, hold executive board roles in Women in Pre-Med and the Creative Arts Club, and contribute to The Writers ROWE Research Team, where I study the impact of grief on academic performance and ways to improve college readiness. These experiences deepen my understanding of mental health and strengthen my commitment to building a more compassionate, accessible care system. At the heart of the impact, I hope to make is a nonprofit mental health art lounge. Initially it will serve adolescents with limited access to convenient, traditional care and later expand to all ages. The lounge will offer guided workshops in various art forms, led by instructors who tailor activities to each participant’s needs. Licensed professionals will be on-site to offer psychological care, ensuring creative expression is supported by clinical expertise. Designed with input from diverse youth and families, the space will reduce stigma and offer a mental health experience that feels empowering and welcoming. To expand this impact into schools, I plan to develop a mental health curriculum for underserved districts. It will blend art therapy with evidence-based teaching to promote emotional literacy, coping skills, and self-care in an engaging and age-appropriate way. By training teachers and counselors to lead the program, I aim to make mental health education a regular part of school life. This will help students recognize their emotions early, build resilience, and seek support without shame. I aim to improve adolescent mental health care by developing accessible, creative, and clinically grounded resources that empower young people to take charge of their well-being. To achieve this, my goal is to close gaps in care and reduce stigma nationwide. This scholarship would support that mission by funding my education, advancing the development of my nonprofit art lounge, and helping me pilot a school-based mental health curriculum. Above all, I want to help build a world where safe spaces are the norm and adolescents are supported before they ever reach a breaking point.