My mom is my image of Atlas, holding up her entire world, steadfast and unwavering. Growing up as the only child of a single mother meant that we were the world to each other. My mom, Natalie, is an incredibly affectionate and resourceful woman who not only supported me, but lifted me up, as she refused to let me settle for anything less than the life she could only dream of. Natalie was the child of a single mother, one of four children, and the only disabled child in the family. After losing her leg at five, she couldn’t participate in the same activities as her siblings. But she made this a point to brace her shoulders and lift me higher, offering me a world of athletic extracurricular activities on a tight salary that only our low rent stretched further. Throughout my childhood, we rented a master bedroom and called it our home. We naturally experienced tension in our relationship as I grew. I felt she was too overbearing, too picky; Just too much. In those moments, her grasp on the world didn’t feel as solid as I’d thought. But as I’ve matured into the person I am today, I began to see adulthood for what it was. I realized my mom was once just another young woman trying to understand herself and the world around her. A human, full of emotion, capable of mistakes, but compassionate and humble enough to accept her flaws and learn from those around her. And once I became her entire world, she started living her life for me. What I learned most from my upbringing was reciprocity and how we took care of each other. We learned from each other, relied on each other, and just as I had moments when I needed to cry or be held, I held my mom when she needed it most. I always accompanied her to her prosthetic appointments, learned how she navigated the world as a disabled black woman, and carried that with me into my future. My mother devoted herself to education. She started college while enrolling me in preschool on her campus and taught preschool on the side. But as I progressed into elementary school, she sacrificed the rest of her education to better support mine and began taking odd jobs as I continued through school. No matter how exhausted she was from her bus commute home, she always sat with me in our shared bedroom as I did my homework. She aided me as I navigated friendships, schoolwork, my first job, and even the importance of a credit score. Most importantly, she instilled deep academic confidence within me. When I struggled in school, she had enough patience with me that I learned what I was capable of. She persisted, continued to raise the world high above her head, and I felt so empowered that I applied myself in every opportunity I could find. She reviewed my college applications, fellowship applications and cheered me on until I became an undergraduate research fellow. Now, I plan to give back everything she sacrificed for me. I share my mom’s passion for education, and I love learning so much that I will pursue my PhD, become a professor and dedicate my career to preserving and democratizing open-access research materials for those excluded from traditional institutions. My mother taught me that strength isn’t measured by what you carry alone, but by what you make possible for others.