Being a first-generation student means carrying both a weight and a gift. I don’t have a blueprint to follow—no one in my family could explain how to navigate financial aid, apply for college, or balance school with life. Instead, I am the one building the map, step by step. To me, being first-gen means stepping into uncharted territory with courage, faith, and determination. It means rewriting my family’s story so the next generation won’t start where I started—they’ll start where I leave off. The challenges have been real and constant. There were days when financial stress made me wonder if education was even possible. I’ve worked long hours while studying, balancing family responsibilities and school deadlines, sometimes with very little sleep in between. I’ve faced self-doubt, feeling like maybe I wasn’t prepared enough to belong in higher education. But every time I thought about giving up, I remembered who I’m doing this for. My struggles have become my fuel. They’ve taught me resourcefulness, grit, and the power of resilience. They’ve shown me that even without a roadmap, I can still build something lasting. My dream is to complete my degree in forensic psychology and use it to create real impact. I want to work with individuals who have faced trauma, help break cycles of violence, and bring healing into spaces that are often overlooked. Beyond psychology, I’m also an entrepreneur, building businesses in music, fashion, and spiritual coaching. What drives me is not just success—it’s impact. I want my children and my community to see that no matter your starting point, you can rise higher. I want to transform pain into purpose and open doors that seemed locked for people like me. This scholarship would mean more than money—it would mean opportunity and stability. It would allow me to focus on my education without constantly worrying about how to make ends meet. It would give me the freedom to invest my energy fully into my studies, my creative projects, and my long-term vision. With this support, I could move forward with confidence, knowing that the sacrifices I’ve made and the barriers I’ve overcome are leading me toward something greater. I’m not chasing perfection—I’m chasing purpose. I see myself walking across that graduation stage one day, degree in hand, carrying with me every sacrifice, every late night, and every “no” that I turned into a louder “yes.” Being a first-generation student isn’t just my identity—it’s my superpower. With your support, I can turn that power into impact, into legacy, and into a future that proves where you start does not define where you can go.

A Voice for My Niece: Standing Up for a Child Who Couldn’t Speak for Herself The moment my niece stepped through the door after a weekend visit with her father, something was different. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes downcast, and her once-vibrant spirit was barely present. She clung to me without saying a word, but her silence screamed volumes. That was the day I realized she was suffering—and that I had a choice: to turn a blind eye, or to step in and become the voice she was too afraid to use. At just eight years old, my niece began showing clear signs of trauma—sudden anxiety, withdrawn behavior, trouble sleeping, and fearfulness after returning from visits to her father and his live-in girlfriend. When we gently asked her what was wrong, she would whisper, “I can’t tell. I’ll get in trouble.” That simple sentence shattered my heart and lit a fire within me. I knew something was wrong, and I couldn’t ignore it. From that day on, I made it my mission to protect her. I began carefully documenting everything—her behaviors, changes in mood, and any statements she shared. I connected with her teachers and school counselor, who confirmed they had noticed similar red flags. Most importantly, I worked to rebuild her trust, letting her know every single day that she was safe, she was loved, and she had every right to be heard. Eventually, we had to go to family court for a custody hearing. It was one of the most emotional and difficult days of my life. My niece was terrified to speak up, worried she wouldn’t be believed. I held her hand and promised her: “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ve got you.” I testified on her behalf and shared everything I had gathered. Combined with her counselor’s professional observations, the judge ruled in favor of protecting her—granting full custody to her mother and limiting the father’s visits to supervised time only. She was also given access to counseling services to begin her healing journey. Today, my niece is thriving. She laughs again. She’s sleeping through the night. She’s learning to trust, to speak, and to feel safe in her own skin. And while that chapter of her life was incredibly painful, it reminded me just how powerful advocacy can be—especially for children who haven’t yet found their voice. That experience didn’t just change her life; it changed mine. It solidified my passion for working with children and deepened my desire to serve as a safe, supportive presence in their lives. I’ve realized that protecting children is more than just a role—it’s a calling. This is why I’m pursuing a future in education. Schools are more than just places where students learn math and science; they are environments where emotional safety and personal development are just as important as academics. If I could change one thing in education, it would be to ensure every school has trained child advocates, counselors, and trauma-informed staff. Far too many children suffer silently, and educators are often their first—and sometimes only—line of defense. We need to be equipped not just to teach, but to listen, to observe, and to intervene. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue my path toward becoming an educator and advocate who stands up for children—not only in the classroom, but in every space they exist. I want to be the adult I once needed, and the one my niece found in me: someone who sees the signs, asks the hard questions, and stands firm in love, truth, and protection. In the end, making a difference doesn’t require superpowers—it requires compassion, courage, and commitment. My niece showed me that even one caring adult can change a child’s entire world. And with the help of this scholarship, I intend to be that adult for many more children to come.

From Victim to Visionary Why I Chose Forensic Psychology to Break Cycles of Violence My name is Qualeena Johnson, and I’m currently pursuing my Bachelor’s degree in Forensic Psychology at Southern New Hampshire University.My purpose is personal—I’m a survivor of both childhood neglect and partner violence, and I’ve dedicated my life to helping others break free from the same generational cycles that once held me captive. I was raised by a single father after my mother neglected me. Her absence left a deep emotional scar and a lingering sense of unworthiness. That pain followed me into adulthood, where I entered a relationship that mirrored the instability I grew up with—filled with emotional manipulation, inconsistency, and disrespect. I brought groceries to his door, stood waiting for time he never honored, and held onto hope that wasn’t real. I lost pieces of myself. But I made a decision: my pain would have purpose. Now, as a future forensic psychologist, I plan to work with at-risk children and young adults who’ve been neglected, abused, or forgotten. I want to help them understand their trauma, navigate their emotions, and find their voice before the world tells them who they are not. Education, to me, is more than degrees—it’s healing. It’s prevention. It’s power. When people, especially youth, are taught the signs of abuse, understand the mental patterns that come from trauma, and have a safe space to process, violence can be stopped before it starts. Through my degree, personal story, and spiritual insight as a faith-based advisor, I hope to create a safe haven for young people—where they are heard, guided, and given the emotional tools I never had growing up. I also plan to offer mental health and wellness programs in underserved communities, so no child or teen has to heal alone in silence. I’m applying for Bold.org scholarships because I believe in this mission with my whole heart. Your investment in me is an investment in hundreds of lives I will help restore. I’ve survived what was meant to destroy me—and now I’m becoming the guide I once prayed for. But I refused to let that be the end of my story. I chose to transform the pain into purpose. My mission is to create a future where young people—especially those in underserved communities—have access to trauma-informed care, education, and mentorship. I want to use forensic psychology not only to understand the roots of violence, but to help stop it at its core by reaching children and teens early. Through counseling, programs, and safe spaces, I want to help others recognize unhealthy patterns, understand their worth, and choose healing over silence. Education is my pathway to change, and my degree will equip me with the knowledge to merge science, compassion, and faith to build something lasting. I’m also a spiritual advisor, and I believe in divine purpose—I believe that every struggle I faced prepared me to serve, lead, and uplift others with authenticity. By awarding me a scholarship, you’re not just helping me earn a degree—you’re investing in the future of children who deserve better. I will use this opportunity to create impact, bring healing, and break generational cycles of abuse and neglect. I’m no longer just surviving—I’m leading. And I’m ready to turn my story into someone else’s breakthrough.