In second grade, I sat in a reading circle with a boy named Aiden. As the rest of us dutifully followed along in our books, Aiden would squirm and stare out the window — he received many reprimands for not “trying hard enough.” But I knew something the teacher didn’t know. By recess, Aiden could memorize whole episodes of his beloved cartoon; construct precise Lego versions of cityscapes; and describe how car engines worked. He wasn’t unable to learn — he was simply being taught in the wrong way. That was the first seed to take root in my heart: one day, I would be that kind of teacher — not asking what’s wrong with kids like Aiden but recognizing their brilliance and teaching to make them shine. As the professor Harold Bloom once said, “Education aims to enable students to have their best presence.” To me, this is about helping students understand that they’re worth being seen, heard, and valued as people just the way they are. It’s about helping them to find their unique voice, the crossroads through which they travel in the world, and why/how it matters that they exist. For special-needs students, who are too often ignored and underestimated or labeled with some disability or another ability (which only the Lord can truly see), this very presence may be the most compelling lesson of all. Being a full-time special education teacher in the future, it will be my goal to teach each of my students that they are more than just their diagnosis or IEP and not defined by how quickly they can complete a worksheet. They suffer and they grow, based on curiosity as well. I want my classroom to be a mirror in which they can see themselves reflected clearly, throughout the day — not as someone who is broken, but rather as someone who is becoming. To do this, I believe in establishing a learning environment based on dignity and joy. I will implement multi-sensory teaching so that all children can feel successful in a way they can with music, movement, visual, and technology. I am going to allow progress for the win. I will be making lesson plans that are not one-size-fits-all, but custom-made with each student’s personality, interests, and goals in mind. I will engage families toward learning and act as a bridge from home to school because students learn best when they feel supported in every aspect of their lives. Most of all, I will ensure that every child knows they are seen — truly seen — for who they are and not just what they can do. Allow me to relate an anecdote of the briefest variety. Once there was a girl named Olivia, who lived in a village where everyone wasn’t handed the same tools to build their future. Some children were offered thick hammers and straight nails; others mismatched pieces, with the comment, “Try to build like everyone else.” Olivia was no stranger to seeing bright, creative children suffer needlessly—not from a lack of skill but because the instruments simply weren’t designed for their hands. So, she embarked on a quest to be a teacher-smith who forged customized tools for each child. For one student, she invented a speaking wand for passing thoughts into writing. For another, she designed a music-staircase that turned learning math into song. And to every child she met, she whispered, “You are not invisible. You matter. Your presence is a gift.” And by the end of her trip, those kids who had been overlooked didn’t have their worth given to them by Olivia; she simply helped reveal it within themselves. That’s the teacher I aspire to be. The one who notices. The one who adapts. The one who challenges students to find their presence therein — not with pity, but in partnership. Letting a temporary job stand in the way of making history — and one with such enduring stakes for millions of schoolchildren, at that? It is based on a conviction that every child has something to say — and it’s my solemn responsibility to aid them in discovering the language, tools, and bravery with which they can do so.

I felt like I was just working at a bit of daycare. I adored kids, and I wanted to get some experience. What I hadn't anticipated was how much those children would teach me. I spent years gently guiding toddlers to take their first steps, soothing tantrums, tying their shoes, reading stories, and cheering every tiny success, say, zipping a coat or writing a name for the first time. What I came to learn during that time is that teaching and caring are not only synonymous with one another, but that they both hold the power to change the way a child sees themselves and their world. Time spent in the daycare allowed me to see that serving others doesn't always have to be a huge, gigantic deal. Sometimes, it's about sitting on the floor and listening.' Other times, it's finding that one reserved-type kid who only needs to be nudged to break out of their shell. I learned to observe, to speak up for the ones whose voices were little — and to be clear, very clear — because kids thrive when they feel safe, celebrated, and "seen. Those early years with children taught me that education starts with connection, and that long before a student can learn, they need to feel cared for. And I bring that passion for service into all aspects of my life. I've volunteered as a babysitter for neighbors, volunteered at local book drives, and mentored middle school kids as a peer teacher. But wherever the context, the mission has always been the same: to help others believe more in themselves, to believe more in their abilities and their hopefulness. And that's exactly what I want to bring into my future classroom. I want students to walk in every single day and know that they are not just in that room to make a passing score, but that they can grow as people, people who have someone in the room who believes in them wholeheartedly. As an aspiring educator, I want my students to learn more than the content we cover in class. I want them to leave my classroom knowing how to think critically, speak up respectfully, push through challenges, and have faith in the potential within themselves. I want to demonstrate empathy, patience, and perseverance. Not just a lecture about it. And most of all, I hope that every single student knows their voice is essential, that we make mistakes to learn, and that a label does not define our worth. Education is an instrument of equity, healing, and transformation. I don't underestimate the significance of a teacher in a child's life. My years working with young children have grounded me in that reality, and they've also fueled my dedication to lead from the heart and think with purpose. With the help of this scholarship, I plan to continue that journey and work towards becoming the kind of teacher who doesn't just teach, but makes a difference.

I was a quiet, insecure little fourth grader. I struggled with reading aloud and didn't raise my hand for fear of being wrong. All that changed because of a teacher -- Mrs. Thompson. She observed how I would linger in class, trying to arrange my backpack so I could ask for help without the other kids realizing it. She did not shame me; she sat in a chair down from me and said, "You're smart. You just need someone to believe it with you." From that day on, I did. And I've taken her words with me all these years. I want to become a teacher because I realize the impact one teacher can have. Mrs. Thompson did more than just help me learn how to read better — she showed me how to believe in myself. I want to be that teacher for someone else." I want to create a classroom where students feel comfortable being themselves when they are struggling, where it is about learning, not about getting it all right the first time. I think teaching is so much more than instructing; it's about making students feel seen, heard, and valued." The older I get, the more I want to teach. I've volunteered at after-school programs, tutored younger kids, and served as a classroom helper. Every experience solidified that this is what I'm meant to do — teach. I love that moment when a pupil's eyes light up because they understood something for the first time. I am passionate about being a part of a learning process that develops not only academic abilities but also confidence and inquisitiveness. What I've learned is that teaching is also about listening, adapting, and continuing to discover myself. It's an obligation I am enthusiastic to fulfill. I can't help my brother. I plan to be a teacher in a public elementary school and, in the future, mentor new teachers. Now, I want to dedicate time to building inclusive, supportive classrooms where students, particularly those who feel left out or discouraged, can flourish. Like Mrs. Thompson, I want to seek out the quiet student in the back of the room and help that child find their voice. Teaching has always been my opportunity to give, to make a difference, and to inspire someone as someone once inspired me. I hoped that this scholarship would help me get to my goal. It would support me in dedicating myself to my teaching preparation process and developing the skills I need to make a difference in students' lives. Most of all, it would advance my mission to one day be the kind of educator who changes the world — one student at a time.