Caring for my older brother, Jhomag "Jojo" Makolo, who goes by Jojo, has shaped who I am in ways nothing else could. Jojo has an intellectual disability, and at age 23, I stepped into a full-time caregiver role after our mother passed away from cancer. Taking on this responsibility was challenging, but it also taught me resilience, patience, and the importance of advocacy. Every day, I navigate systems that were not built to support him, making sure he has access to the care, services, and opportunities he deserves. Through this experience, I have seen how easily individuals with disabilities can be overlooked. Educational and healthcare systems often lack trained professionals, accessible resources, and coordinated care. Families are forced to fight for basic support while balancing their own responsibilities. I have learned firsthand that it is not disability that limits a person, but the systems meant to serve them. These challenges inspired me to pursue graduate studies in healthcare management and policy so I can create change on a larger scale. Jojo inspires me every day. His perseverance, joy, and trust remind me why I work so hard and why my goals matter. Even when balancing full-time caregiving with graduate-level coursework feels overwhelming, I keep going because I know everything I do is not just for me, but for him and for people like him. Watching him celebrate small victories, like mastering a new skill or expressing himself in a new way, reminds me of the importance of dignity, inclusion, and consistent support. These moments fuel my determination to improve systems for families navigating similar challenges. Through my education, I hope to improve how healthcare institutions are managed and governed. I want to advocate for policies that expand access, enhance care coordination, and support families who are caring for individuals with disabilities. I aspire to create systems where differently-abled individuals are not just accommodated, but empowered to thrive. The lessons I have learned while caring for Jojo guide my leadership style, my problem-solving approach, and my commitment to social justice in healthcare. This scholarship represents more than financial support. It is an opportunity to honor my lived experience and the lessons Jojo has taught me about resilience, empathy, and advocacy. Everything I pursue is inspired by him. I am determined to turn the challenges we have faced into meaningful change, ensuring that people like my brother are seen, supported, and empowered to live with dignity.

My journey into healthcare did not start in a classroom. It began in hospital rooms with my mother as she battled ovarian cancer, and it continues today in daily advocacy for my older brother Jojo, who has autism. At just 23, I have learned that healthcare is not only about treatment but about dignity, equity, and compassion. These experiences have shaped both who I am and why I chose to pursue a Master of Healthcare Administration. The path has not been easy. As a first-generation American and first-generation graduate student, I carry the weight of responsibility not only for myself but for my family. When my mother passed away earlier this year, the financial and emotional challenges became even heavier. I stepped fully into the role of caregiver for Jojo, navigating services, appointments, and programs while balancing graduate school and military service. It is a constant juggle — one that stretches me, humbles me, and reminds me daily of why I cannot give up. Financial hardship is a reality I know well. From paying rent and utilities to covering transportation for Jojo, the burden often feels overwhelming. There are nights when I worry if I will be able to stay on top of both school and caregiving, and there are mornings when exhaustion makes the future feel impossibly far. But I also know that my education is more than a degree; it is my way of creating lasting change for families like mine. That belief is what keeps me moving forward. Through every challenge, I’ve discovered strength I didn’t know I had. Advocacy has taught me patience. Grief has taught me resilience. Caregiving has taught me compassion. And graduate school has taught me that leadership is not about being the loudest voice in the room, but about listening, building trust, and creating systems that serve people. My vision for my career is to serve communities that are too often left behind; immigrants, families with disabilities, women whose pain is dismissed, and patients who feel powerless in the face of a complicated system. I want to use healthcare administration to make care more accessible, to bridge the gap between providers and families, and to ensure equity is not an afterthought but a priority. At the same time, I know my journey as a Black woman in healthcare leadership carries meaning beyond myself. Representation matters. When I walk into rooms that were not designed for me, I hope to be a reminder to other women, especially women of color, that they belong there too. I want my career to reflect not just what I have achieved, but who I have lifted along the way. This scholarship would not only ease the financial strain of my education; it would serve as encouragement at a time when I need it most. It would remind me that my story matters, that my voice belongs in the future of healthcare, and that even in the face of hardship, there are people who believe in my potential. The journey toward becoming a healthcare professional is long, but it is one I walk with determination. For my mother. For Jojo. For every family who deserves to be seen, heard, and cared for. And for the future I know is possible — one where healthcare is not only about treatment, but about justice, compassion, and hope.

Justice and healthcare don’t always look the way they should. Sometimes they look like a daughter holding her mother’s hand in a cold hospital room, trying to translate fear into hope. Sometimes they look like a 23-year-old sitting at a table full of professionals, speaking up so her older brother with autism isn’t forgotten in a sea of paperwork. That daughter, that sister, is me. And those moments are the reason I chose healthcare. My story didn’t begin in a classroom; it began in waiting rooms, in long phone calls with insurance companies, in meetings where I had to learn how to be my brother’s voice and my mother’s advocate. My mom’s battle with ovarian cancer taught me how easily women’s pain can be brushed aside, how their questions can go unanswered. My brother Jojo has taught me that advocacy is not a choice — it’s a responsibility. Every day, I fight for his right to be seen, heard, and valued. Those lessons have shaped the way I see the world. They have convinced me that healthcare is more than policies and procedures; it is a form of justice. And justice, in its truest sense, is about dignity. It is about making sure that where someone is born, the language they speak, or the family they come from never determines the quality of care they receive. That is why I chose healthcare administration. I don’t just want to work in the system — I want to change it. I want to build bridges between patients and providers, between communities and the institutions meant to serve them. I want to serve the families who feel overlooked, the caregivers who are exhausted, and the patients who are too often silenced. I think often about Catrina Celestine Aquilino and her legacy. Though her path was law, and mine is healthcare, I feel a deep connection to her belief that justice must be accessible to all. She stepped into the world with brilliance and generosity, refusing to let barriers define who she could serve. That is the kind of impact I hope to carry into my own career; to walk into spaces that weren’t built for me, to hold the door open, and to leave the room more just than I found it. As a Black woman, a first-generation American, and a first-generation graduate student, I know what it feels like to be the “first.” I also know that being the first means you cannot be the last. I want my career to reflect that truth. I want young women who look like me to see me walk tall into leadership and realize that they can, too. This scholarship would not just support my education — it would amplify my mission. It would give me the chance to cast my circle wider, just as Catrina did, and extend compassion and justice to communities that need it most. My hope is simple: that one day, no mother will have to fight to be believed, no brother will be left without a voice, and no family will feel invisible in the very system meant to care for them. That’s the future I’m working toward.

The first time I realized the power of advocacy, I was sitting in a meeting about my older brother Jojo. He has autism, and at 23 years old, I have become not just his sister but also his caregiver and his voice. That day, I listened as people spoke around him, over him, and about him; yet not to him. I raised my hand, nervous but determined, and reminded the room that Jojo was more than a chart or a case file. He was a man with dreams, feelings, and dignity. That moment changed me. I understood that advocacy is not just about speaking; it is about refusing to let someone be invisible. And it is that same lesson that has guided me in healthcare, in leadership, and in how I want to use my career to make a difference. My journey has also been shaped by my mother’s fight with ovarian cancer. I saw the courage it took for her to face each day, and the heartbreak of having her pain questioned or minimized. I also saw how a compassionate provider could transform fear into peace, simply by listening and treating her with respect. From my mother and my brother, I carry two lessons: healthcare is about humanity, and no one’s voice should ever be ignored. These experiences are why I chose healthcare administration. I don’t want to just work in healthcare; I want to help rebuild it. My vision is to serve all communities, especially those who are often underreported or overlooked — immigrants, people of color, families with disabilities, and those who struggle to navigate systems not built for them. I want to create spaces where patients are seen as people first, where caregivers are supported, and where equity is not an afterthought but a foundation. As a Black woman and a first-generation American, I also understand the power of representation. Women, especially women of color, have often been left out of decision-making rooms. When I walk into those spaces with my head held high, I know I carry more than my own dreams; I carry the hopes of those who have been told they don’t belong. I hope to inspire other women to claim their place at the table, knowing they too have the strength and brilliance to lead. Through my career, I want to be remembered as someone who created systems that worked for everyone. Systems where women’s pain is believed, where caregivers like me don’t feel alone, and where every community; regardless of background or circumstance — feels included. In doing this, I know I will also uplift women by showing what it looks like to lead with empathy, courage, and resilience. Balancing graduate school while caring for Jojo has been challenging, and pursuing this path comes with financial obstacles. But every long night and every hard moment has only deepened my resolve. This scholarship would not only support my education, but also my mission: to serve communities who are too often overlooked, to walk boldly into rooms not designed for me, and to leave behind a legacy of compassion, equity, and justice.

Healthcare is not just a career path I chose, it is a calling that has been written into my life through the people I love most. My journey began with my mother’s battle against ovarian cancer. I witnessed her strength, her dignity, and the ways compassionate healthcare workers brought light into some of her darkest moments. I also saw the gaps in the system — the confusion of paperwork, the exhaustion of navigating appointments, and the heavy weight placed on families. Those experiences showed me that healthcare is about much more than medicine. It is about humanity, advocacy, and making sure no one feels invisible. That lesson became even more personal through my older brother, Jojo, who has autism. At just 23 years old, I have stepped into the role of not only his sister but also his caregiver and fiercest advocate. Every day, I fight for him; for services, for opportunities, and for understanding in a world that often doesn’t make room for people like him. I’ve sat in meetings where his needs were overlooked, spoken up when his voice wasn’t heard, and learned to navigate systems that were not built with families like ours in mind. Caring for Jojo has shaped me in ways no classroom ever could. It has taught me patience, resilience, and the power of advocacy. More than anything, it has shown me the heart of what healthcare must be: not just a system of treatment, but one of inclusion, dignity, and equity. I carry his story with me into my education and my future career, because I know that for every Jojo, there are countless others whose families are fighting the same battles. My goal is to be a leader who changes those systems — who makes them easier to navigate, more compassionate, and more just. That is why I chose healthcare administration. I want to be the bridge between patients and providers, families and policies. I want to transform the system so that no caregiver feels powerless, no woman feels overlooked, and no patient falls through the cracks. My vision is to advocate for underserved communities, address disparities, and ensure that healthcare is guided by empathy as much as by science. As a Black woman and first-generation American, I also carry the weight and the pride of representation. Women, especially women of color, have always been the backbone of caregiving, yet our voices are underrepresented in leadership. I know what it means to fight; for my mother, for my brother, and for myself. And I want to channel that same determination into building healthcare systems that reflect compassion, accessibility, and justice. Pursuing this path has not been without challenges, especially financial ones. Balancing graduate studies while being a caregiver has taught me resilience, but it has also revealed how deeply I need support to continue forward. This scholarship would not only lighten that financial burden; it would affirm that my story, my voice, and my vision belong in the future of healthcare. My hope is that through my work, families like mine will no longer have to fight so hard to be heard. That young women will see me and know they, too, can lead in healthcare. And that one day, Jojo will live in a world where compassion, accessibility, and equity are no longer dreams, but realities.

What Cancer Took—and What It Gave Me Cancer didn’t just take my mother; it took pieces of me too. It stole quiet mornings, joy-filled holidays, and the comfort of knowing my mom would always be there. But even in the wreckage of it all, it gave me something I never expected: clarity, strength, and a mission. My mother was everything to me—my home, my soft place to land, and my biggest encourager. When she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, our world turned upside down. I was still navigating school and early adulthood, but I became her caregiver, her advocate, and her emotional support during every appointment and chemo session. Watching her endure pain with grace while still being a mother to my brother and me was both inspiring and heartbreaking. My older brother, who has autism, needed structure and extra attention; and when my mom became too sick to provide that, I stepped fully into that role. There were no instructions. Just love and urgency. I juggled school, work, and caretaking, torn between being a daughter, a student, and a sister. I had to grow up quickly. And when she passed away, I lost more than my mother—I lost my anchor. Grief doesn’t leave you; it reshapes you. Slowly, it gave me purpose. I saw how the healthcare system fails families like mine—Black, low-income, immigrant, and first-generation. I saw the lack of resources, the overwhelming paperwork, and the emotional toll it takes on caregivers. My experience, while painful, gave me a perspective I now use to create change. In Fall 2025, I’ll begin my Master of Healthcare Administration at UNC Chapel Hill while working full-time and caring for my brother. My dream is to become a healthcare executive and launch a nonprofit that provides support for families facing chronic illness. I want to offer what we never had: wraparound services, logistical support for caregivers, and access to culturally competent care. I also want to advocate for mental health resources for caregivers and young people who take on adult roles far too early. People like me, quietly holding their families together while chasing dreams that feel out of reach. My goal is to create spaces where they feel seen, supported, and empowered. Cancer devastated my family, but it also refined me. It taught me to lead with compassion, be resourceful under pressure, and believe in the strength of service. It taught me how to keep going when everything hurts and how to turn pain into purpose. Receiving the Sharra Rainbolt Memorial Scholarship would be more than financial relief—it would be a recognition of what I’ve endured, who I’ve become, and the legacy I am determined to carry forward. It would allow me to focus on my education and remind me that my story, though heavy, still holds power and hope. Cancer took my mother, but it gave me my calling. I carry her strength in every classroom, every conversation, and every plan I make. And with your support, I will turn that strength into lasting change.

The Life of My Dreams: Purpose, Peace, and Impact The life of my dreams isn’t defined by wealth or status; it’s defined by purpose, peace, and the ability to make a lasting impact. As a Black woman pursuing a graduate degree while working full-time and serving as the primary caregiver for my older brother with autism, I’ve learned to dream boldly, even in the midst of challenge. My journey has been anything but easy, but it has been rich in meaning, shaped by resilience, sacrifice, and a deep desire to serve others. In the life of my dreams, I am leading in the healthcare space—as an executive who advocates for equity and designs systems that serve everyone, especially those who are often overlooked. I’ve seen the gaps in our healthcare system firsthand. I became my mother’s advocate when she was battling ovarian cancer, helping her navigate confusing medical systems and advocating for the quality of care she deserved. After she passed away, I stepped fully into the role of caregiver for my brother. Every call I make to a doctor’s office, every IEP meeting I attend, and every form I fill out is a quiet act of love and leadership. These moments shaped not only my passion, but my purpose: to build a world where healthcare is accessible, compassionate, and centered around human dignity. This is why I chose to pursue my Master of Healthcare Administration. I will begin this next chapter at UNC Chapel Hill in Fall 2025, while continuing to work full-time. It’s a difficult balancing act, but one I embrace with pride. Education, for me, has always been more than a goal; it has been a form of freedom. In the life of my dreams, I use what I’ve learned—both in classrooms and through lived experience—to open doors for others. I want to start a nonprofit that offers support to caregivers, mental health resources to Black women, and healthcare access to underserved families. I want to walk into boardrooms and policy spaces and make sure that people like my mother and brother are never forgotten. But the life of my dreams also includes something quieter; peace. It includes the ability to slow down and breathe, to experience joy without guilt, to have the time and space to care for myself as deeply as I’ve cared for others. It looks like building a home filled with warmth and laughter, surrounded by people I love. It means healing not just for myself, but for the generations before and after me. It means creating generational change through education, empathy, and action. This scholarship would be more than just financial help; it would be fuel for my vision. It would lighten the load of someone who has carried a lot, and it would be a reminder that I am seen and supported on this journey. It would affirm that the life of my dreams is not out of reach—it’s being built right now, brick by brick, class by class, and moment by moment. The life of my dreams is not perfect, but it is deeply meaningful. It is rooted in healing, growth, and the belief that with faith, love, and learning, anything is possible. And I am proud to be walking toward it every single day.

Leading with Heart: Turning Experience into Impact Leadership is not about titles or recognition; it’s about showing up, making hard decisions, and being a source of stability in the middle of chaos. I’ve learned this not from a leadership course or a textbook, but from lived experience; navigating complex challenges at home, in my academic work, and within my community. One of the most defining leadership moments of my life came when my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. At the time, I was a full-time student, balancing coursework, a part-time job, and caregiving responsibilities for my older brother, who has autism. With my father absent from my life since his deportation when I was four, I became the one everyone leaned on. My mother needed an advocate during hospital visits. My brother needed consistency, understanding, and care. And I needed to somehow hold it all together while continuing to pursue my education. It wasn’t easy. I faced time constraints, burnout, and financial stress. There were moments when I doubted if I could keep going. But I led with what I had—empathy, problem-solving, and resilience. I created a schedule to manage my responsibilities and brought structure to our household. I coordinated with doctors, teachers, and social workers, learning to communicate clearly and advocate for my family’s needs. At the same time, I maintained strong academic performance and stayed committed to my goal of working in healthcare administration. That experience didn’t just test my ability to lead; it transformed it. It taught me that leadership is about service and adaptability. It’s about knowing when to take charge and when to listen. It’s about staying grounded even when life feels uncertain. Since then, I’ve led student projects, mentored first-generation peers, and volunteered with organizations focused on autism advocacy, women’s health, and community outreach. In each of these roles, I’ve carried with me the same values I developed at home: empathy, responsibility, and a drive to uplift others. As I pursue my Master of Healthcare Administration at UNC Chapel Hill in Fall 2025, I plan to use my leadership skills to address disparities in healthcare access and delivery. I want to build programs that center the needs of marginalized communities similar to families like mine who often feel invisible in the system. My long-term vision includes launching a nonprofit that offers support services to caregivers and expands healthcare education and resources in underserved areas. I believe that real leadership is not about commanding attention; it’s about making space for others to rise. I want to be the kind of leader who opens doors, listens deeply, and builds systems that are rooted in compassion and equity. Receiving the Future Leaders Scholarship would not only relieve financial stress but would also be a vote of confidence in the kind of leader I strive to be—one who leads with heart, lives with purpose, and never forgets where she came from.

A Different Kind of Parenthood: Carrying the Weight with Love and Purpose I am not a parent in the traditional sense, but in every other way that matters, I have carried the responsibilities of one. From a young age, I stepped into the role of caretaker for both my mother and my older brother, who has autism. My journey hasn’t followed the typical path, but it has shaped me with the same resilience, selflessness, and determination that many single parents know all too well. My family is originally from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. My father was deported when I was just four years old, and I have not seen him since. That absence forced me to grow up quickly. My mother became both mother and father, and eventually, I joined her as a second set of hands, a second set of eyes, and a second heart to hold our family together. When she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, everything changed. I became her advocate, helping manage her medical care, working, attending school, and caring for my brother all at once. After she passed away, I officially stepped into the role of guardian, and I’ve been doing my best to honor her strength every day since. Balancing the demands of education and caregiving has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. There are nights I stay up late, not to study, but to soothe my brother during a sensory overload. There are days I’ve had to miss classes or reschedule work to handle doctor’s appointments, IEP meetings, or just to be present for him in the way only I can. And yet, despite it all, I’ve never lost sight of my dreams. I’m pursuing a Master of Healthcare Administration at UNC Chapel Hill, starting Fall 2025. My passion for healthcare comes from lived experience; navigating the system on behalf of my family, seeing where it fails people like us, and feeling called to be part of the solution. I want to become a healthcare executive who brings compassion and cultural understanding to the forefront. My ultimate goal is to create a nonprofit that supports low-income families and caregivers, offering them the resources, education, and support my family needed but often struggled to find. Being in this position has taught me that family is not just who we’re born to—it’s who we show up for. And I’ve shown up every day. I know what it means to carry weight that wasn’t meant for my shoulders, and I also know the kind of love that gives you strength to keep carrying it anyway. Receiving the Law Family Single Parent Scholarship would be an incredible support in my journey, not just financially, but emotionally; it would mean being seen. It would mean someone understands that single parenthood takes many forms, and that the love, labor, and responsibility I’ve poured into my family matters just as deeply. I am committed to continuing my education and to building a career that uplifts families like mine. I may not have chosen this path, but I walk it with pride and purpose, determined to turn my struggles into support for others. That, to me, is the heart of this scholarship and the life I’m working to build.

First-Gen Futures: A Legacy of Strength and Purpose Choosing to pursue higher education as a first-generation student has never just been about earning a degree; it’s about healing, honoring, and rewriting my family’s story. My family is from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and I was raised by my mother, a remarkable woman who carried the weight of two parents on her shoulders. When I was four years old, my father was deported. I have not seen him since. His absence shaped much of my early life—but so did my mother’s strength. She was the heart of our home, working tirelessly to provide for my brother and me. As a single parent navigating a new country, she did her best to guide me, but most of my academic journey involved walking into the unknown. College applications, FAFSA forms, and preparing for the demands of university life often felt overwhelming, but I refused to let fear stop me. I asked questions. I showed up. I leaned into teachers, mentors, and community programs, slowly building the confidence I needed to move forward. When my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, our world shifted. I became her advocate, learning to fight for her care while also caring for my older brother, who has autism. After she passed away, I stepped into a role I never imagined; becoming his full-time support system while trying to hold on to my own dreams. There were moments I felt lost and moments I felt like giving up. But the memory of her love and the bond I share with my brother reminded me why I keep going. I chose healthcare because I know what it feels like to be overlooked. I know what it means to need answers, help, and hope. Through volunteering with women’s health initiatives, supporting homeless communities, and working with children on the autism spectrum, I’ve seen the kind of healing that happens when people feel seen and supported. These experiences, alongside my personal journey, have inspired me to pursue a Master of Healthcare Administration. In Fall 2025, I will begin this next chapter at UNC Chapel Hill. My dream is to become a healthcare executive who doesn’t just manage systems—but rebuilds them. I want to lead with empathy. I want to create a nonprofit that connects underserved families with the care and education they deserve. And I want young girls like me—first-gen, firstborn, and full of hope; to see that their dreams are possible too. Being a first-generation student has meant learning how to do more with less, how to keep going even when everything says stop. It has meant learning how to build my own table when I didn’t feel I had a seat. It’s not easy, but it’s meaningful. And it’s mine. Winning the First-Gen Futures Scholarship would not just ease a financial burden; it would be a symbol of everything my family and I have overcome. It would remind me, and others like me, that we belong here, and that our stories are worth telling. To me, being first-gen isn’t just about going to college. It’s about becoming the person your younger self needed. And I’m proud to be her now.

Building Bridges: A Future of Healthcare and Hope Some people build skyscrapers. Others build businesses. I want to build something less tangible but just as transformative; a bridge. A bridge between healthcare and the communities that have long been overlooked. A bridge between resources and the people who need them most. A bridge between my own experiences and the change I want to create. My passion for healthcare is not just academic, it’s deeply personal. Growing up, I watched my mother navigate a complex healthcare system as an immigrant and single parent, tirelessly advocating for my older brother, who has autism. Later, I found myself in the same position, standing in hospital hallways, deciphering medical jargon, and ensuring my mother received the care she deserved during her battle with ovarian cancer. When she passed, my role shifted once again, I became my brother’s primary caregiver. These experiences didn’t just shape me; they ignited my mission. I envision a world where no one has to fight for the healthcare they need. To build that reality, I plan to pursue a career in healthcare administration, ensuring that healthcare systems prioritize accessibility, efficiency, and dignity. This scholarship will help me take the next step; attending UNC Chapel Hill in Fall 2025 to obtain my Master of Healthcare Administration. But education is just one piece of what I want to build. Beyond my degree, I want to create a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing healthcare resources for underserved communities. Whether it’s supporting women’s health initiatives, assisting homeless populations, or offering specialized care for individuals with autism, my goal is to make healthcare a right, not a privilege. My volunteer work; mentoring autistic children, supporting women’s health programs, and serving in homeless outreach initiatives—has reinforced that even small efforts can build something much larger: trust, empowerment, and lasting change. Brick by brick, experience by experience, I am laying the foundation for something greater than myself. With the help of this scholarship, I will continue building; not just for my future, but for a future where healthcare is truly for everyone.

Redefining Victory: A Journey of Resilience and Purpose Success is often measured by traditional milestones; graduations, promotions, financial achievements. But to me, success is about impact. It is about perseverance in the face of adversity, using challenges as fuel for growth, and leaving a lasting imprint on the lives of others. My journey has been anything but linear, yet every hardship I have encountered has shaped my unwavering commitment to creating meaningful change in healthcare and my community. Growing up, I witnessed my mother’s sacrifices as a single parent and immigrant striving to provide a better life for my brother and me. She embodied resilience, working tirelessly while also caring for my older brother, who has autism. Watching her navigate these responsibilities instilled in me a deep appreciation for service and the importance of equitable healthcare access. However, my true understanding of resilience came when my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Despite her illness, she continued to put us first, fighting with unwavering strength until the very end. Her passing was the most profound loss I have ever experienced, but it also became the driving force behind my purpose. At 23, I have stepped into a role I never imagined becoming the primary caregiver for my brother while simultaneously pursuing my own dreams. Balancing work, school, and caregiving has not been easy, but it has reinforced my belief that success is not about the absence of struggle but about the ability to keep pushing forward despite it. My aspirations in healthcare administration stem from a desire to bridge the gap for families like mine, ensuring that no one has to choose between financial stability and proper care for their loved ones. My commitment to service extends beyond my personal experiences. I have volunteered with organizations dedicated to providing healthcare and education to underserved communities, from supporting women’s health initiatives to working with homeless populations. One of the most meaningful experiences I have had was volunteering with autistic children, a cause deeply personal to me due to my brother. Seeing these children thrive with the right resources and support reaffirmed my dedication to advocating for those who are often overlooked. This scholarship would not only alleviate the financial burden of my education but also serve as an investment in my ability to effect real change. I will be attending UNC Chapel Hill in the Fall 2025 semester to pursue my Master of Healthcare Administration, with the ultimate goal of becoming a healthcare executive. Beyond that, I aspire to establish a nonprofit organization focused on expanding healthcare access for underserved communities, ensuring that high-quality care is a right rather than a privilege. Success, to me, is not solely about personal achievement but about using my experiences to uplift others. It is about taking the pain of loss and transforming it into purpose, about turning struggles into stepping stones for a greater mission. My journey has been filled with obstacles, but it has also been defined by perseverance, love, and an unyielding commitment to making a difference. Winning this scholarship would bring me one step closer to fulfilling my vision, allowing me to continue my education and work toward a future where healthcare is equitable for all. I am redefining victory not as the absence of hardship, but as the ability to rise above it, to turn adversity into action, and to ensure that my mother’s legacy of strength and service lives on through the work I do. With this opportunity, I will continue pushing forward, not just for myself, but for every family who deserves access to the care and support they need to thrive.

Empowering Change: My Commitment to Healthcare and Women’s Empowerment As a first-generation student from a single immigrant mother household, I’ve learned that leadership in healthcare begins with empathy and understanding the challenges marginalized communities face. Growing up, I saw firsthand how my mother, a Congolese immigrant, balanced caregiving, work, and her own health struggles. She was a tireless provider, sacrificing her well-being for the sake of my brother and me, often neglecting her health in the process. Her resilience sparked my drive to pursue a career in healthcare administration, where I aim to create programs that empower women and families facing similar struggles. My journey into healthcare was not just about academics; it was shaped by personal experiences. My older brother, who has autism, requires consistent care, and when my mother was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, the responsibility of caring for him fell on me. After my mother passed away, at 23, I became the primary caregiver for my brother. Balancing my education, work, and caregiving duties has been challenging but has deepened my commitment to pursuing my Master of Healthcare Administration (MHA). I want to ensure other women and families facing similar caregiving challenges have the support they need. My mother’s struggles were compounded by the lack of resources and healthcare support. She juggled caring for my brother and managing her own health decline, often having to choose between working to cover medical bills and taking time to care for herself. Her passing left a void, and I was left with the weight of responsibility. These experiences have given me a deep understanding of the gaps in healthcare, especially for women and families in low-income or immigrant communities. They’ve also fueled my desire to advocate for policies that support caregivers, particularly women who often bear the brunt of caregiving responsibilities. In my role as a Patient Service Specialist in a gynecology office, I’ve seen how difficult it is for many women, particularly those from underserved communities, to access the care they need. Financial limitations, inflexible work schedules, and the burden of caregiving make healthcare seem like a distant reality for many. These observations have driven my passion for healthcare administration, specifically to create policies that support women and caregivers. The Women in Healthcare Scholarship would significantly ease the financial burden of my graduate education, allowing me to focus on developing the skills needed to achieve my career goals. As a first-generation student, I’ve navigated higher education without a clear blueprint, relying on my determination and my mother’s sacrifices to get me this far. This scholarship would not only provide financial support, but it would also affirm that my mission to advocate for women in caregiving roles is worth pursuing. With my MHA, I plan to work in healthcare administration, focusing on creating initiatives that provide financial assistance for caregiving families, expand workplace policies to accommodate caregivers, and increase access to healthcare for women in underserved communities. I aspire to develop systems where women no longer have to choose between their financial stability and the well-being of their families. I want to ensure that women in caregiving roles have access to resources that empower them to take control of their health and well-being. This scholarship will allow me to continue my journey toward making a difference in the lives of women and families who need it most, and it would be an invaluable step toward achieving my goal of empowering women in healthcare.

The Power of Healthcare: A First-Generation Student’s Journey to Advocacy and Change As a first-generation American and the daughter of a single immigrant mother, my journey has been shaped by resilience, sacrifice, and an unwavering desire to improve the lives of those who, like my mother, faced immense challenges. I am pursuing a Master of Healthcare Administration (MHA) because I believe in the power of equitable healthcare systems, particularly for marginalized communities. My ambition is to succeed in the field and pave the way for others, ensuring that no family endures the same hardships mine has faced. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand how socioeconomic struggles impact health outcomes. My mother, a Congolese immigrant, worked tirelessly to provide for my brother and me, often neglecting her health due to financial constraints and lack of access to care. The immense stress of raising two children alone, one of whom; my brother—was diagnosed with autism, took a significant toll on her well-being. Eventually, she was diagnosed with cancer, a battle that shook our family. The intersection of financial hardship, limited healthcare access, and the emotional burden of caregiving made it clear to me that systemic changes are needed in the healthcare industry. These experiences ignited my passion for healthcare administration. I realized that healthcare is not just about treatment but about advocacy, accessibility, and reform. I chose to pursue an MHA because I want to be in a position where I can influence policies, implement programs, and create initiatives that prioritize underserved populations. My goal is to become a healthcare executive who champions equitable healthcare solutions, ensuring that low-income families, immigrants, and individuals with disabilities receive the care they deserve. Ambition and drive have always guided my academic and professional journey. I earned my bachelor’s degree in political science, a field that taught me the importance of policy-making and advocacy. However, my experience as a Patient Service Specialist in a gynecology office solidified my commitment to healthcare administration. I saw firsthand how medical systems can either support or fail patients based on socioeconomic status, language barriers, and institutional inefficiencies. I knew I had to be part of the solution. My vision is to develop programs that cater to low-income, immigrant, and special-needs families. I want to establish community outreach initiatives that provide preventive care education, financial assistance for medical treatments, and specialized services for families like mine who struggle to navigate healthcare. I aim to work within hospital administration or healthcare consulting, ensuring that policies are designed with inclusivity in mind rather than as afterthoughts. Receiving the Dr. Michael Paglia Scholarship would provide financial relief and affirm that my goals are worth pursuing. As a first-generation student, I have navigated every academic and professional milestone without a blueprint, relying on determination and the lessons learned from my mother’s sacrifices. This scholarship would allow me to focus on my studies rather than financial burdens, enabling me to fully commit to my mission of creating meaningful change in healthcare. Healthcare should not be a privilege afforded only to those with means. It should be a fundamental right, accessible to all, regardless of background or income level. My mother’s struggles, my brother’s diagnosis, and my experiences navigating the healthcare system have instilled in me a lifelong commitment to advocacy and reform. I am determined to ensure that no family endures the same obstacles mine did. As a healthcare executive, I will dedicate my career to creating programs that uplift those who need it most, providing opportunities and care to families who, like mine, simply needed a chance. This is my purpose, my passion, and my promise.