My identity as a Black single mother places me within an underrepresented minority population that has profoundly shaped my life experiences, values, and goals. This identity is not just a label; it is a lived reality that has influenced how I navigate education, career aspirations, and personal growth. While it has come with significant challenges, it has also strengthened my resilience, determination, and sense of purpose. As a Black woman, I have experienced the weight of systemic barriers that continue to affect access to opportunity, representation, and resources. These challenges became even more pronounced when I became a single mother. Balancing the responsibilities of parenting while pursuing personal and professional goals has required constant sacrifice, adaptability, and perseverance. There have been moments when the path forward felt uncertain, but those moments also revealed my capacity to endure and push forward despite adversity. Being a single mother has reshaped my priorities and deepened my motivation. Every decision I make is influenced by the desire to create stability, opportunity, and a better future for my child. This responsibility has driven me to approach my education with focus and discipline. I understand that my success is not only my own it sets an example and opens doors for the next generation. In this way, my identity fuels my commitment to growth rather than limiting it. My experiences have also heightened my awareness of inequities faced by underrepresented communities, particularly Black women and single parents. I have seen how limited access to support systems, childcare, and financial resources can slow progress, even for those who are capable and driven. Rather than discouraging me, this awareness has strengthened my resolve to advocate for change. I am motivated to use my voice, education, and future career to contribute to spaces where representation matters and policies are shaped with inclusion in mind. Education represents more than personal advancement for me it is a tool for empowerment and transformation. As a member of an underrepresented minority population, I recognize the importance of occupying spaces where voices like mine have historically been excluded. Each academic achievement challenges stereotypes and expands perceptions of what is possible for Black single mothers. My presence alone is a form of resistance against narratives that underestimate our potential. Looking forward, my identity will continue to guide my path by grounding me in purpose and perspective. I plan to leverage my experiences to support and uplift others who face similar challenges. Whether through mentorship, leadership, or community engagement, I want to contribute to environments where underrepresented individuals feel seen, supported, and capable of success. My journey has taught me the value of empathy, perseverance, and accountability qualities that will shape how I lead and serve. While my identity has required me to overcome obstacles that others may not face, it has also given me strength, clarity, and resilience. Being a Black single mother has taught me how to navigate complexity, manage responsibility, and remain committed to long-term goals despite immediate challenges. These qualities will continue to influence my academic and professional journey. Ultimately, my identity does not define my limits it defines my strength. As a Black single mother, I carry both responsibility and possibility. I move forward with the understanding that my path is not only about personal success, but about representation, impact, and creating opportunities for those who come after me. Through education and intentional action, I aim to transform my lived experience into a foundation for lasting change.

As an industry leader and passionate advocate for wellness, Dr. Steve Aldana demonstrated that meaningful health improvements do not require extreme or unrealistic changes. His belief that small, sustainable habits practiced consistently can transform lives strongly aligns with how I view wellness and personal growth. I see myself continuing this mission by using my education and passion to make health accessible, practical, and empowering for individuals and communities. Through my education, I aim to gain a deeper understanding of how lifestyle choices impact physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Education gives me the tools to not only improve my own health, but also to guide and support others in making informed decisions. Whether I pursue a career in health education, leadership, community outreach, or another wellness-focused field, I plan to use evidence-based knowledge to promote habits that people can realistically maintain in their daily lives. Dr. Aldana’s work reinforces the idea that wellness is not about perfection, but about progress, and this perspective shapes how I approach learning and growth. My passion for wellness is rooted in the belief that health should be inclusive and adaptable to different lifestyles, cultures, and circumstances. Many people feel discouraged by wellness messages that demand immediate, drastic change. I want to help shift that narrative by emphasizing small steps, such as incorporating movement into daily routines, managing stress, improving sleep habits, and developing healthier relationships with food. These manageable actions build confidence and consistency, which are essential for long-term success. By promoting realistic goals, I hope to help individuals feel empowered rather than overwhelmed. I also see myself continuing Dr. Aldana’s mission by advocating for healthier environments in schools, workplaces, and communities. Wellness is not just an individual responsibility; it is influenced by the spaces where people live, learn, and work. Using my education, I want to support initiatives that encourage balance, mental health awareness, and preventative care. This may include wellness programs, educational workshops, or policies that prioritize employee and student well-being. When healthy choices are supported by the environment, individuals are more likely to sustain them. Leading by example is another way I plan to carry forward this mission. Practicing consistent, healthy habits in my own life allows me to authentically encourage others to do the same. By being open about the challenges and benefits of maintaining wellness, I can help normalize the idea that progress is not linear. Dr. Aldana’s message reminds me that even small actions, when repeated daily, can create meaningful change over time. Additionally, I am passionate about addressing the mental and emotional aspects of wellness. Stress, burnout, and emotional health play a significant role in overall well-being, yet they are often overlooked. Through education and advocacy, I hope to contribute to conversations that promote balance, self-awareness, and compassion. Encouraging people to prioritize mental health alongside physical health is essential for creating truly healthy communities. In continuing Dr. Steve Aldana’s mission, I do not see myself as reinventing wellness, but as reinforcing its foundation. By using my education to inform, my passion to motivate, and my actions to inspire, I hope to help others understand that lasting health is built through small, intentional choices made every day. In doing so, I aim to contribute to a future where wellness is sustainable, accessible, and empowering for all.

Legacy, to me, is not measured by money or status, but by strength, values, and the ability to endure and grow despite obstacles. It is what we leave behind in the hearts and minds of others our work ethic, our resilience, and the lessons we pass on through our actions. Legacy is especially powerful when it is built under pressure, because it shows not only who someone is, but who they chose to be in the face of adversity. Being raised by a single Black mother has deeply shaped my understanding of legacy. From a young age, I witnessed what it meant to carry responsibility without the option of giving up. My mother had to be everything at once: provider, protector, motivator, and role model. Watching her balance work, family, and personal sacrifices taught me that strength is not always loud or recognized, but it is consistent. Her determination showed me that survival alone is not the goal progress is. My upbringing taught me resilience before I fully understood the word. I learned that success often requires working twice as hard for half the recognition. I saw firsthand how systemic challenges, financial stress, and societal expectations affected our daily lives, yet my mother never allowed those barriers to define our future. Instead, she emphasized discipline, respect, and the importance of education as tools for breaking cycles. Her belief in me became a foundation I still stand on today. At the same time, growing up in that environment made me aware of the emotional toll that constant strength can carry. I saw how stress was sometimes internalized, how exhaustion could go unspoken, and how vulnerability was often pushed aside in order to keep moving forward. This helped me understand that some cycles are rooted in survival, but survival alone is not always healthy. Recognizing this has been essential in shaping the path I want to take. Because of my upbringing, I feel a responsibility not only to succeed, but to grow intentionally. I want to continue the cycle of perseverance, ambition, and self-respect that my mother instilled in me. Her example taught me the importance of showing up, even when it is difficult, and standing firm in who I am. These are values I plan to carry forward in every area of my life. However, I also want to break cycles that involve emotional suppression, overworking, and carrying burdens alone. Strength should not mean silence. I plan to break these cycles by allowing myself to ask for help, prioritize mental and emotional health, and communicate openly. Choosing balance does not take away from my mother’s legacy it honors it by allowing growth beyond survival. Legacy, in my eyes, is about evolution. My mother laid the groundwork through sacrifice and resilience; my role is to build upon it with self-awareness and intention. I want to create a future where success includes peace, emotional intelligence, and fulfillment not just endurance. By recognizing both the strengths and struggles of my upbringing, I can choose which lessons to carry forward and which to transform. Ultimately, my upbringing does not limit me it empowers me. Being raised by a single Black mother has taught me that legacy is built through courage, persistence, and love. By continuing the positive cycles and breaking the harmful ones, I hope to honor where I come from while creating something even stronger for the future.

One of the biggest obstacles I’ve had to overcome in my pursuit of higher education has been the reality of being a single mother who grew up in an abusive and unstable environment. For much of my life, school was never something I could focus on. Survival came first. I became a mother at a young age, and every decision I made revolved around providing for my children rather than pursuing my own dreams. Returning to school meant completely restructuring my life working full time, parenting full time, and still finding the mental and emotional strength to study, complete assignments, and stay committed even when I felt overwhelmed. Financial hardship has been another major challenge. The cost of tuition, books, supplies, and childcare makes it difficult to keep up, especially when you are the only provider. There were times when I questioned whether I could continue because the pressure of bills, work, and school all at once felt too heavy. But I refused to let financial stress stop me from creating a better future for my family. I pushed forward because I knew quitting would only continue the cycle of struggle I grew up with. Emotionally, returning to school forced me to confront doubts and insecurities created by my past. Growing up without positive support made it hard to believe I was capable or deserving of higher education. It took time to rebuild confidence, learn to ask for help, and remind myself that I am worthy of the opportunities I am fighting for. Despite these obstacles, I am proud of how far I’ve come. Every assignment completed, every class passed, and every sacrifice made brings me closer to a life I once only imagined. In the future, I want to use my education not only to build a stable career, but to give back to others who have faced similar challenges. Once I complete my radiology degree and continue toward my bachelor’s in computer science, I plan to support young mothers, first-generation students, and anyone who feels held back by their circumstances. I want to mentor students who don’t have guidance at home and show them that their dreams are valid. I also hope to eventually create a small scholarship to help someone else who needs a chance just like I do now. My journey has taught me that education is more than a degree; it is a tool for breaking cycles, building confidence, and uplifting others. I want to use mine to make sure no one feels alone in the way that I once did.

My journey has been shaped by experiences that have deeply affected my mental and emotional well-being. Growing up in an abusive household and becoming a mother at a very young age created challenges that followed me into adulthood. For a long time, I didn’t have the tools or the support to understand the impact these experiences had on my mental health. I learned to survive by staying silent, carrying stress alone, and pushing my own feelings aside because life demanded that I be strong for everyone around me. Mental illness has touched both me and my family in ways that were often hidden but always present. As a child, the emotional turmoil at home created anxiety, fear, and a sense of constantly being on edge. I didn’t have the language to describe what I was feeling, and I certainly didn’t have a safe space to talk about it. The effects stayed with me into adulthood affecting my confidence, my relationships, the choices I made, and the way I saw myself. It took years for me to understand that what I experienced wasn’t just “stress” or “being strong” it was trauma, and it shaped my mental health in ways I am still healing from today. As a single mother, mental health challenges didn’t disappear they became something I had to fight through while carrying the weight of raising children entirely on my own. There were periods of depression, moments where anxiety made simple tasks feel overwhelming, and times when I felt guilty for struggling at all. But motherhood also became the reason I decided to face those struggles instead of hiding them. I didn’t want my children growing up feeling the same silence, confusion, or fear that I felt. For my family, mental illness has created cycles that I am determined to break. I talk to my children openly about emotional health. I encourage them to express themselves, to ask for help, and to know that their feelings matter. I teach them what I never learned that mental health is just as important as physical health, and asking for support is not weakness. Mental illness has shaped my life, but it has also shaped my strength. It pushed me to return to school, to build a better future, and to reclaim a sense of self-worth I once didn’t believe I deserved. My journey hasn’t been easy, but it has made me more compassionate, more resilient, and more determined to create a healthier life for myself, and for the generation after me.

Being a first-generation student means breaking cycles that have existed in my family for generations. It means stepping into a world no one before me had the chance or the support to enter. To me, being first-gen is not just an academic label it is a responsibility, a source of pride, and a promise I’ve made to myself and to my children. I am the first in my family to pursue higher education, and that alone is something I once never thought I’d be brave enough to do. My journey has been far from easy. I grew up in an abusive household, became a mother at a very young age, and spent years focusing solely on survival. Everything in my life revolved around providing for my children working long hours, sacrificing my dreams, and putting myself last because I believed I had to. As a single mother, returning to school took courage I didn’t know I had. I had to balance full-time work, parenting, and college, all while trying to heal from my past and convince myself that I deserved to chase something better. There were moments when I doubted everything moments when exhaustion, financial stress, and fear made me question whether I could really do this. But every challenge I’ve faced has pushed me instead of stopping me. I overcame obstacles by reminding myself of the life I want my children to have and the example I want to set for them: that no matter where you come from, you can build a future you’re proud of. I want them to grow up knowing that strength doesn’t mean having an easy life it means refusing to give up on yourself. My dreams are bigger now than they have ever been. I am currently studying radiology, a field I fell in love with because of its combination of medicine and technology. Once I earn my degree, I plan to continue my education and obtain my bachelor’s in computer science. My goal is to eventually work at the intersection of medical imaging and technology creating, improving, or working with systems that help diagnose and support patients. I want a career that gives my family stability, but also one that fulfills me on a deeper level. This scholarship would make a tremendous difference in my life. As a single parent managing school, work, and household expenses on my own, finances are one of my biggest obstacles. This support would lift some of that weight, giving me more time, more focus, and more room to breathe. It would bring me one step closer to the future I have fought so hard to create. I am not perfect, but I am determined. My journey has been painful, messy, and full of lessons but it has also made me strong. I am ready to keep going, keep growing, and keep proving to myself and my children that we are capable of so much more than our past.

I am currently studying radiology, a field I have dreamed of pursuing for many years. Radiology has always interested me because it blends medical knowledge, technology, and patient care three things I’ve long felt connected to. I want to be someone who helps patients understand what is happening in their bodies and provides them with the comfort and clarity I often needed growing up. For a long time, this goal felt out of reach, but returning to school has reminded me that it’s never too late to rebuild your future. Balancing school as a single parent has been one of the biggest challenges of my life. I became a mother at a very young age and grew up in an abusive environment, which forced me into adulthood far earlier than I should have been. Most of my life has been centered on survival working whatever jobs I could to take care of my children, putting my needs aside, and pushing through days fueled mostly by responsibility rather than fulfillment. When I finally enrolled in college, I had to learn how to manage assignments, exams, full-time work, and parenting all at once. There have been nights when I studied after everyone was asleep, mornings when I woke up exhausted, and moments when financial stress made me question whether I could keep going. But every time I look at my children, I am reminded why I started: I want them to see their mother doing something she loves and creating a better life for them through education. Despite the obstacles emotional, financial, and time-related I have stayed committed because I believe education is the key to changing our future. Once I finish my radiology degree, I plan to continue my education and obtain my bachelor’s in computer science. Technology has always fascinated me, and combining computer science with medical imaging opens the door to advanced roles in healthcare technology, diagnostic software, and innovation in patient care. My long-term goal is to work in a career that allows me to support my family comfortably, continue growing professionally, and maybe even bridge the gap between healthcare and technology through new digital tools. Ultimately, I want my journey to show my children and anyone else watching that your past does not define your future. I want to build a career I am proud of, one that provides stability, fulfillment, and opportunities I never had growing up. Returning to school has been difficult, but it has also been empowering. Every step I take brings me closer to the life I’ve always imagined for myself and my family, and I am determined to see that vision through.

As a teen mom who grew up in an abusive environment, my life has been shaped by challenges that forced me to grow up faster than most people my age. For many years, survival took priority over dreams. I focused on protecting my children, providing for them, and keeping our lives as stable as possible. As a single mother, there was never enough time, money, or emotional space to think about myself or what I wanted for my future. Even though I always knew I had potential and a purpose beyond my circumstances, my reality never allowed me to pursue it until now. For as long as I can remember, earning a degree in radiology has been one of my biggest dreams. I’ve always been drawn to the medical field, not only because of the stability it offers, but because I want to help people in the same way others once helped me. Radiology combines care, science, and precision, and it is a career I know I would excel in. I want to be someone who makes a difference in patients’ lives, especially those who may feel afraid or vulnerable, the same way I once did in hospitals and clinics growing up. Now that my children are older and more independent, I finally feel ready to chase the future I had to put on hold for so long. Going back to school has been one of the most empowering decisions I’ve ever made, but it has also come with challenges especially financial ones. Between working full-time, raising children on my own, and managing everyday expenses, the cost of tuition, textbooks, and supplies has been overwhelming. There are days when I question whether I can balance everything, but I am determined to push forward. I refuse to let financial stress stop me from achieving a future that will change my family’s life. Receiving this scholarship would lift a tremendous burden off my shoulders. It would allow me to focus more on my education and less on the constant pressure of how I will afford the expenses that come with it. This scholarship would not just help me pay for school it would give me room to breathe, to study more, to worry less, and to stay committed to becoming the version of myself I promised my children I would be. It would help me build a stable future where I can support my family in a career I love. My plans for the future go beyond myself. Once I complete my radiology degree, I hope to mentor other young mothers and eventually create a small scholarship fund of my own to help someone else who grew up like I did someone with dreams bigger than their circumstances. I want my journey to show others that no matter your past, you are still worthy of a future you can be proud of.

When the government shuts down, the impact reaches everyone, but for people living with mental illness, the effects can be especially heavy. I’ve seen firsthand how uncertainty, financial strain, and disrupted routines can hurt mental well-being not just in the moment, but long after. For many people, including myself and those I love, mental health depends on stability. When that stability is shaken, it can feel like the ground disappears beneath you. During shutdowns, people who depend on therapy, medication, or community programs can lose access or face delays. Even a small interruption can cause someone to spiral or feel like they’re losing progress they’ve worked so hard to build. I’ve struggled with stress and anxiety myself, and I know how deeply disruptions in routine or support can affect a person’s ability to cope. For parents, single mothers, low-income families, or people already living on the edge, a shutdown doesn’t just threaten finances it threatens emotional balance and mental safety. The financial strain alone can be devastating. Families worry about paying rent, buying groceries, or keeping the lights on. That fear sits heavy on the mind. I’ve been in situations where money was tight, and just the stress of wondering how I would take care of my family affected my mental and emotional health. So when I think about people who rely on government assistance or federal paychecks, I can only imagine how overwhelming it must feel to face a shutdown with no sense of security. But the effects aren’t just short-term. Any interruption to treatment or support systems can have long-term consequences. For someone battling depression, anxiety, trauma, or other conditions, losing even a little stability can mean starting over. That’s why the impact goes far beyond money it affects confidence, trust, and emotional well-being. I believe there are ways to protect people during these times. Mental-health services should be treated as essential, not optional. Crisis centers, community clinics, and hotlines should never be forced to close or reduce services. There should be emergency funds at the state and local level to keep people connected to support, even when the federal government shuts down. And we need more accessible telehealth and peer-support programs so no one is left alone during a crisis. For me, understanding the emotional impact of shutdowns has strengthened my passion for helping others. It reminds me why I’m pursuing my education and why I want to create real change. I know what it feels like to struggle silently, and I hope to use my future career to support individuals who feel unseen or unsupported during difficult times including moments when the government systems they rely on suddenly stop.

My journey as a single mother has shaped every part of who I am and the goals I am now striving to achieve. I became a mother at a very young age, and from the moment my first child was born, I was taught to believe that my life no longer belonged to me it belonged to my children. For sixteen years, I lived with that mindset. I worked whatever jobs I could find, even when they drained me mentally and emotionally, because I felt that sacrificing myself was the only way to be a good parent. But over time, I realized that constantly putting myself last was not helping my family. It left me unhappy, unfulfilled, and struggling to give my children the stability and example they deserved. Returning to higher education was something I avoided for years because I didn’t think I had the time, energy, or confidence. Balancing work, motherhood, and school felt impossible. But the real turning point came when I acknowledged that I needed a change not only for my future, but for my children’s. I didn’t want them to see me exhausted, stuck in jobs that didn’t bring joy, or settling for less than I deserved. I wanted them to know that no matter your age or circumstances, you can always start over and choose a better path. Enrolling in college while working full time has been challenging, but it has also been one of the most empowering decisions of my life. This journey has shaped my goals and values in profound ways. I now prioritize growth, education, and emotional well-being. I use my voice more confidently to teach my children the importance of making healthy choices, setting boundaries, and believing in themselves lessons I had to learn the hard way. My education is not just about earning a degree; it is about creating a future where my family no longer struggles, where I can build a career I am proud of, and where my children see the strength in choosing yourself. Receiving this scholarship would ease the financial stress of tuition, books, and supplies, allowing me to stay focused on my studies and continue my progress. It would give me room to breathe and remind me that I am not alone in this journey. In the future, I hope to pay it forward by creating my own $500 scholarship to support another ambitious student who needs a chance, just as I do now. My dream is not only to uplift my own family, but to create opportunities for others who are fighting to change their lives too.

I want to make a change in my life because I know that the future I dream of for myself and for my children cannot be built on the path I was on before. For years, I lived in a cycle of working jobs that didn’t fulfill me and struggling to provide the stability my family deserved. I realized that if I wanted something different, something better, I had to be the one to create that change. I want my children to grow up seeing possibilities instead of limitations, and I want them to understand that they never have to settle for a life that doesn’t make them proud. Making this change isn’t just about me; it’s about breaking old patterns and building a foundation that will benefit generations after me. To bring myself closer to my goals, I have already taken some major steps. I enrolled in college while continuing to work full time, a decision that has required dedication, discipline, and sacrifices. Balancing school, work, and motherhood hasn’t been easy, but every assignment I complete and every class I pass reminds me why I’m doing this. I am learning to prioritize myself and my long-term future, and these steps though difficult have shown me that I am capable of far more than I once believed. This scholarship would help me tremendously by easing the financial strain that comes with being a full-time employee, parent, and student at the same time. Tuition, textbooks, and supplies add up quickly, and receiving this scholarship would allow me to focus more on my studies and less on constant financial worry. It would give me the stability to keep moving forward without feeling overwhelmed by the costs of continuing my education. Looking ahead, I don’t want to just improve my own life I want to lift others up with me. Once I graduate and am in a stronger financial position, I plan to start my own $500 scholarship to help another ambitious student. I know how life-changing even a small amount of support can be. I want to offer that same hope to someone who is trying to change their life just the way I am trying to change mine. My goal is to not only better my life but to create a ripple effect of opportunity, encouragement, and support for those who come after me and the ones after them as well.

The courage to go back to school did not come to me all at once. It built slowly over years of working jobs that left me drained, unhappy, and feeling stuck. For a long time, I convinced myself that as long as I was providing for my children, my own happiness didn’t matter. But there came a point when I realized that surviving and truly living are not the same thing. Going to work every day to places where I felt unappreciated, unfulfilled, and uninspired started to weigh heavy on me. I began to feel that I wasn’t doing anything that I could be proud of not for myself, and not as an example for my children. Another source of courage came from financial reality. No matter how hard I worked, it never seemed like enough. I was constantly stretching every dollar, constantly worrying, constantly sacrificing. I wanted to give my children stability, opportunities, and a life that did not feel like a constant fight. But the jobs I was working simply didn’t offer a future. I realized that staying on the same path would only keep us in the same place. I started to understand that returning to school wasn’t just about getting an education it was about giving myself and my children a real chance at a better life. What pushed me forward the most, though, was my dissatisfaction with the path I had chosen. I looked around at my life one day and asked myself, “Is this really all there is for me?” That question stayed with me. I knew deep down that I wanted more. I wanted a career, not just a job. I wanted to feel proud of myself, not just responsible. I wanted to wake up each day with purpose instead of exhaustion. And I wanted my children to see me choosing growth instead of settling for less than I deserved. The courage came from realizing that if I didn’t make a change, nothing would change. It came from understanding that fear and doubt would always be there, but so would the possibility of becoming someone stronger, happier, and more confident. Returning to school became my way of choosing myself for the first time in a long time and choosing a better future for my family and for self gratification. I believe finally pouring into myself has improved my mental health as well as boosting my confidence.

One of the most defining moments in my life was not a single day or event, but a long period of silence years in which I struggled to use my voice to speak up about the abuse I experienced from my mother. As a child and teenager, I lived in constant fear. I knew what was happening to me was wrong, but I didn’t know how to express it, who to turn to, or whether anyone would even believe me. That silence shaped me in ways I am still unpacking today. Instead of learning to trust and rely on others, I grew into someone who kept everything inside. I became a loner, not because I wanted to be, but because I didn’t know how to ask for help or how to let people in. That fear of speaking up followed me into adulthood. It influenced the relationships I formed and the choices I made. I often found myself looking for love in all the wrong places, gravitating toward people who were not good for me because I didn’t truly understand my worth. I made poor decisions in friends and partners, not because I didn’t care, but because I had never learned what healthy love was supposed to feel like. I didn’t have a voice growing up, so I didn’t know how to use it to protect myself or set boundaries. Although those experiences were painful, they eventually taught me something powerful: silence can be just as damaging as the abuse itself. Over time, I began to realize that I had to break that cycle not just for my own healing, but for my children. Finding my voice as an adult has been challenging, but it has also been empowering. Today, I use my voice to teach my children the things I wish someone had taught me: how to stand up for themselves, how to make choices that honor their happiness, and how to recognize when something isn’t right. I try to give them the advice, support, and emotional safety that I didn’t have growing up. Now, my goal is to continue using my voice not only within my family, but also in my community. I hope to encourage others who feel silenced to speak up, seek help, and believe in their worth. My past taught me how damaging silence can be, but it also showed me that finding your voice no matter how late can be the beginning of healing and change.

My name is RaNisha, and returning to school has been one of the most personal and meaningful decisions I have ever made. For most of my life, especially throughout my teenage and young adult years, my identity revolved around being a mother. I became a parent at a very young age, and from the moment my first son was born, it was impressed upon me that my own needs no longer mattered that everything I did from that point forward should be about my child. For the last sixteen years, I lived by that belief. While it taught me responsibility, sacrifice, and unconditional love, it also meant that I rarely, if ever, stopped to think about myself and what I wanted for my own life. As the years went by, I found myself putting aside dreams, goals, and even simple opportunities because I felt they didn’t fit the life I had to build for my kids. I worked jobs that didn’t suit my interests or support my personal growth, simply because they provided a paycheck that helped keep us afloat. Although I did what I needed to do, those jobs took a toll on my mental and emotional well-being. There were moments when I could feel the stress reflecting in my parenting, and that weighed heavily on me. I often thought about where we might be if I had given myself permission to pursue my education and goals earlier, and I carried a sense of regret for not doing so. Now that my children are older and more independent, I finally feel comfortable taking a step forward for myself. It still doesn’t come naturally I’m so used to putting myself last that prioritizing my own growth feels unfamiliar. But I realized that in order to give my children the best version of me, I need to invest in my own happiness, confidence, and long-term stability. Returning to school is not only a step toward building a better future for our family, but also an example to my children. I want them to see that it is never too late to start over, no matter your age or circumstances. I want them to know that they deserve to chase opportunities, build fulfilling lives, and make choices that bring them joy and that I am choosing to do the same. I am still figuring things out day by day, but returning to school marks the beginning of a new chapter for us. It is a decision rooted in hope, growth, and the belief that transformation is always possible.

Pursuing a career in STEM as a single Black mother has been both a dream and a challenge one that I am determined to make a reality despite the numerous obstacles in my way. The financial burden of admissions tests, study materials, and application fees is something that I have had to face repeatedly, each time taking me a step further away from my dream. As a single mother, my responsibilities extend far beyond my academic goals. I am raising two children on my own, and every decision I make is one that impacts their future. The financial strain of raising a family while trying to further my education is enormous. The cost of preparing for admissions tests, purchasing textbooks, paying for application fees these costs quickly add up. I have had to be creative and resourceful, finding ways to stretch my budget while still prioritizing my children’s needs. There have been times when I’ve had to make difficult decisions about whether to purchase a necessary textbook or pay for a test prep course. The financial burden has often felt overwhelming, but it has also fueled my drive. It’s made me more determined to succeed, not only for myself but for my children. I know that this is the way out of the cycle of financial hardship and limited opportunity. However, I’ve also had moments where the sheer weight of it all made me question if I could continue pursuing my dream. The pressure to balance motherhood, work, and my education is immense, and often I have felt like I’m running on empty. This is where a scholarship would make a world of difference. If awarded this scholarship, I would no longer have to choose between paying for basic needs and investing in my future. I would have the financial relief to focus fully on my academic and professional goals without the constant worry about how I’ll cover the next round of fees or study materials. It would give me the freedom to concentrate on my coursework and admissions preparation, ultimately increasing my chances of acceptance into a professional program. Instead of spreading myself thin, I could direct my energy toward mastering the skills necessary to excel in my field. This financial support would allow me to continue my studies with the confidence that I can provide the necessary resources for my children while also pursuing a career that will offer a better life for us all. It would not only ease the immediate financial burdens but also set the stage for long-term success, success that I plan to channel back into my community. Once I achieve my professional goals, I am committed to giving back in meaningful ways. As a Black mother in STEM, I know how important it is for my son who wants to pursue stem, especially those from underserved communities, to see someone who looks like them succeeding in these fields. Representation is key. I want to be a mentor and advocate for the next generation, offering guidance, support, and resources to help them navigate the challenges of pursuing a STEM career. This scholarship would not just be an investment in my future; it would be an investment in my children’s future and the future of countless others who will benefit from the opportunities I will help create. It would ease the financial pressures, allowing me to remain focused on my studies and career path while knowing I am one step closer to achieving the better life I am working so hard to create for my family and community.

There’s a moment in life when you realize that the weight you’ve been carrying isn’t just a burden it’s the foundation for something far greater than you imagined. For me, that moment came in my late twenties, after years of trying to make sense of everything I had been through. Growing up in a single-parent household, with a mother who had my sister at 15 and then had three more children, was a constant reminder of the kind of life I didn’t want. My mother, despite never having a high school education, was fiercely determined to make sure her children didn’t repeat her struggles. But in her attempts to push us toward success, the love I needed often got lost in the chaos of survival. By the time I became a mother myself at 19, not being able to pursue the basketball scholarships I had, the cycle of hardship had already been set in motion. I had my second child at 23, but I didn’t have the emotional support I needed to navigate the challenges that came with raising them. I was verbally and physically abused as a child, and those scars ran deep. I was determined to break free from those cycles, but I didn’t always know how. I was constantly questioning my worth, my ability, and whether I could ever rise above the trauma that seemed to follow me everywhere. That realization didn’t come easily. There were times I questioned whether I could make a different life for myself and my children. The trauma of my childhood made it hard to believe I deserved more. But I kept going, even when I didn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I found the courage to pursue higher education, even when it felt impossible. I enrolled in college after years of trying to figure out how to balance my responsibilities with my dreams. When I think about that moment of clarity, I realize how far I’ve come. It wasn’t just about surviving anymore it was about thriving, and breaking cycles of abuse, neglect, and lack of education that had plagued my family for generations. I started seeing myself as more than just the label of "victim." I began to see myself as capable of creating a different life. I realized that the pain I had endured wasn’t a weakness, but rather the catalyst for my transformation. What others may not have seen at first was the depth of my resolve. The abuse, the lack of support, the constant struggle they were all trying to teach me something. They were shaping me into someone who understood the importance of determination, self-worth, and perseverance. They were teaching me how to be a leader, but not in the traditional sense. I wasn’t leading with power or authority; I was leading with empathy, understanding, and the kind of strength that only comes from lived experience. Today, I lead by example. I serve others by sharing my story, by showing them that no matter where you start or what you go through, you have the power to change your life. I make it a point to uplift others, especially those who have experienced trauma, because I know what it feels like to be unseen, unheard, and uncertain. I want others to know they aren’t defined by their circumstances. My journey has taught me that strength isn’t about never falling it’s about getting back up, every single time, no matter how many times you’ve been knocked down.

Legacy, to me, is the imprint we leave on the world not just through our successes but through the lessons, values, and resilience we pass down to those who come after us. It’s a reflection of who we are, how we overcome adversity, and how we help shape others. I’m building mine by showing my children that despite the challenges life throws at us, we can rise. I want them to know they come from a strong lineage of women who, though they may have faced hardship, never stopped fighting for better opportunities. My mother modeled resilience for me. She had me at 15, faced immense challenges, and still managed to provide for us. She didn’t have love growing up, but she made sure to give me the love she never received. Her grit has inspired me to always keep moving forward, no matter how tough it gets. Breaking cycles is about offering a different path for my children. I’m intentional about teaching them that they have the power to change the narrative of our family history. I’m showing them how to break free from negative patterns and create their own opportunities. A “no” I turned into a “not yet” was when I was told I wouldn’t be able to go back to school because of financial barriers. I didn’t accept defeat; I kept looking for ways until I got the scholarship I needed. Abuse and trauma can deeply hinder one’s ability to build a legacy, as they often leave invisible scars that shape how we navigate the world. For those of us who’ve experienced abuse whether emotional, physical, or psychological it can feel like you’re constantly fighting a battle just to survive, let alone thrive. When trauma becomes a part of your everyday reality, it can cloud your vision for the future, making it difficult to believe in the possibility of anything better. That was a huge part of my own experience watching my mother endure hardship, and feeling the weight of the generational trauma that lingered in our family. The thing is trauma doesn’t have to define us. It can fuel our desire to break free from the cycle and be better, but it takes a lot of inner strength, self-reflection, and sometimes, outside support. The idea that abuse or trauma can stop someone from building a legacy is powerful, but it doesn’t have to be the end of the story. The beauty of resilience is that it allows us to not only survive but to reshape our path and rewrite our narrative. For me, the journey of healing was about reclaiming my power. I didn’t let my experiences define my worth or stop me from setting high goals for my family. While trauma can shape the challenges we face, it doesn’t have to determine our outcome. We can rise above it and build legacies that speak of strength, love, and transformation. I’m determined to teach my children that even in the face of adversity, their future is theirs to create. I plan to use my career to uplift others by giving back to my community, especially single mothers, and helping them find the resources to achieve their goals.

How Faith Has Influenced My Leadership Style Faith is the cornerstone of who I am, and it profoundly shapes how I lead and inspire others. As a Black woman navigating a world that often challenges my worth and resilience, faith is my compass it grounds me in humility, courage, and compassion. My leadership style is deeply rooted in these values, reflecting a commitment not only to achieve goals but to uplift others with kindness and purpose. To me, leadership is more than authority or direction; it’s about service, example, and unwavering belief in the potential of those I lead. My faith teaches me to lead with empathy, to listen actively, and to embrace patience, even in the face of setbacks. It reminds me that true strength is shown through vulnerability and that every person deserves respect and dignity. One powerful experience that shaped my vision for leadership happened during a particularly challenging time in my community. I was asked to organize a support group for women who, like me, had survived domestic violence and were struggling to rebuild their lives. Many of these women were overwhelmed, feeling isolated and hopeless. I knew this was a moment where faith needed to be more than words it had to be lived out through action. Drawing from my faith, I approached this leadership role with humility and a deep sense of responsibility. I began each meeting with a moment of reflection and prayer, creating a safe space where women could share openly without fear of judgment. I shared my own story, not to be the center of attention, but to show that healing was possible. This honesty helped build trust and encouraged others to open up. As the weeks went by, I witnessed a transformation not just in the women I was leading, but in myself. Their courage inspired me to keep going, and my faith grew stronger as I saw how hope and love could rekindle even the most broken spirits. Together, we created a network of support, resources, and encouragement that extended beyond our meetings. This experience taught me that leadership fueled by faith is about more than achieving goals it’s about nurturing souls and building community. It shaped my vision for the future: to lead with integrity, compassion, and a steadfast belief in the power of redemption and growth. I am committed to using my leadership to create spaces where Black women and all people can find healing, strength, and empowerment. Faith has also taught me resilience in leadership. When challenges arise whether systemic barriers, personal doubts, or external pressures I lean on prayer and reflection to find clarity and peace. I try to lead not from a place of fear, but from hope and trust in a higher purpose. In my journey as a leader, I have come to understand that faith is not a passive belief but an active force that shapes every decision and interaction. It pushes me to lead with love, to serve with humility, and to persist with courage. I envision a future where my leadership can help break cycles of pain and injustice, inspiring others to rise and shine in their own unique ways. Ultimately, faith reminds me that leadership is a sacred trust a calling to walk alongside others in their journey, offering light in moments of darkness and hope when all seems lost. It is this conviction that continues to guide me as I grow and lead, always striving to be the leader I needed when I was still finding my own way.

Love Island Challenge: “Mind & Match” Overview: The “Mind & Match” challenge is designed to test the Islanders not only on how well they know each other emotionally but also to promote mental health awareness and encourage open conversations about feelings, stress, and self-care. This challenge combines connection, vulnerability, and teamwork, bringing a fresh, meaningful twist to the villa dynamics. Setup: The Islanders will be paired up as couples, either current or newly formed for the challenge. The setting will be a cozy, calm lounge area in the villa, with soft lighting, comfortable cushions, and relaxing background music to create a safe and inviting space. Each couple receives a “Mind & Match” kit: A deck of “Emotion Cards” featuring different feelings and mental health-related scenarios (e.g., anxiety, self-doubt, stress from social pressure, coping with rejection). A “Self-Care Wheel” with various strategies (like meditation, talking to a friend, journaling, exercise). A timer and a notepad. How It Works: Emotion Expression Round: One partner draws an Emotion Card and describes a time they’ve personally experienced or witnessed that feeling or situation without naming the emotion itself. The other partner listens carefully and tries to guess the emotion or mental health scenario described. For example, one might say, “I remember feeling like my chest was tight and I couldn’t focus during a test,” and their partner guesses “anxiety.” Self-Care Strategy Round: After guessing, the couple discusses how they would handle that feeling or situation, using the Self-Care Wheel to pick a strategy. They explain why they chose it and how it might help in real life. Matching Mindset: Each couple gets 5 minutes to come up with a “mental health motto” or positive affirmation together something encouraging that they can support each other with moving forward in the villa and beyond. Winning Criteria: Judges (host and a mental health professional guest) score couples based on: Emotional honesty and vulnerability. Communication and active listening skills. Creativity and thoughtfulness in choosing self-care strategies. Teamwork in crafting their mental health motto. Impact on the Villa: The winning couple earns a special prize a “Wellness Day” including a spa session, healthy meals, and a guided mindfulness meditation led by a professional. Plus, they get to host a group discussion with all Islanders about mental health, sharing what they learned. Why It Works: “Mind & Match” promotes empathy, emotional intelligence, and vulnerability, helping Islanders build deeper connections beyond surface-level attraction. It also raises awareness about mental health, normalizing conversations and equipping contestants and viewers with tools to support themselves and others. This challenge is a meaningful way to combine fun and heart, making Love Island not only about love but about caring for mind and soul too.

The Role of Faith in My Life and Its Impact on My Academic and Future Goals Faith has been the foundation that has held me steady through the most challenging seasons of my life. As a single mother raising two children, navigating the difficulties of poverty, abuse, and the pursuit of higher education in two demanding fields Radiologic Technology and Computer Science faith is more than just a belief; it is a lifeline. It is the quiet assurance that no matter how impossible things may seem, a way will always be made. There have been moments when the weight of my responsibilities felt overwhelming balancing childcare, financial hardships, and rigorous academic work. There have been nights when doubts crept in, and fears whispered that I was in over my head. But faith has given me the strength to push forward, reminding me that I am not alone and that every step I take is guided by something greater than myself. This unwavering belief has shaped my mindset and fueled my determination to succeed not only for me but for my children. Pursuing a degree in one field is challenging enough, but I have chosen to pursue two Radiologic Technology and Computer Science because I want to build a future that offers stability, opportunity, and the ability to make a difference in my community. This dual path requires immense dedication, discipline, and resilience. Without faith, the journey would be much harder to endure. Faith reassures me that even when the path is unclear, when the obstacles seem insurmountable, I have the strength and guidance to overcome them. Faith is not just about personal strength it has shaped my values and perspective on education and service. It inspires me to approach my studies with humility and purpose. I see my education as a calling to help others, whether by providing compassionate patient care in radiology or innovating solutions through technology that improve healthcare access. My faith teaches me that true success is measured not only by degrees or job titles but by the positive impact I make in the lives of others. While faith has been the cornerstone of my perseverance, I have also been pushed by the love and responsibility I feel as a mother. My children are my greatest motivation. I want to set an example for them showing that despite hardship, education is a powerful tool to change our circumstances. I want them to know that being raised by a single mother does not limit their potential; instead, it can be a source of strength and inspiration. My pursuit of higher education is a promise to my children that I will do everything in my power to create a better life for our family. Additionally, I am inspired by the many women in my community who have faced similar struggles and triumphed through hard work and faith. Their stories remind me that I am part of a larger narrative of resilience and empowerment. I am committed to not only achieving my goals but also using my success to uplift others especially Black women who face systemic barriers in education and career advancement. My journey is not just personal; it is a path that I hope will open doors and encourage others to believe in themselves and their dreams. The support of my family, friends, and mentors has also played a vital role in pushing me toward higher education. Their belief in me reinforces my own faith, reminding me that I am capable and deserving of success. This network of encouragement, combined with my faith, forms the backbone of my resilience. Faith is the compass that guides me through uncertainty and hardship. It is the source of hope and strength that keeps me moving forward in my academic and personal life. As I continue to pursue degrees in Radiologic Technology and Computer Science, I carry with me the belief that a way is always made through perseverance, faith, and the unwavering love for my children. I am committed to turning my dreams into reality, not only for myself but for my family and community, trusting that every step I take is part of a greater purpose.

Why I’m a Fan of LeBron James and Why I Believe He’s the Greatest of All Time As a single Black mother, I understand the power of determination, resilience, and the will to rise above challenges. That’s why I’m a fan of LeBron James not just because of his incredible talent on the basketball court, but because he embodies the kind of powerhouse spirit that inspires me every day. When I played basketball in high school, LeBron was my motivation. Watching him dominate the game reminded me that greatness isn’t just about natural ability it’s about hard work, leadership, and never settling for less. LeBron James is more than just a basketball player; he is a symbol of strength and perseverance. Raised by a single mother himself, LeBron has faced immense obstacles yet rose to become one of the greatest athletes in history. His story resonates deeply with me, as I strive to set a powerful example for my own children. He shows that no matter where you come from, or what barriers stand in your way, you can achieve greatness through grit and heart. I do believe LeBron James is the greatest basketball player of all time even though I’m also a Michael Jordan fan. Jordan’s legacy is legendary, especially with his six championships and killer competitiveness. But greatness is about more than just championship rings. While LeBron may have fewer championships, he holds numerous other records and titles that speak volumes about his impact on the game. He’s been an MVP multiple times, consistently ranks among the top scorers and assist leaders, and has made the All-NBA team more times than any other player in history. LeBron’s greatness extends beyond statistics. He has transformed how the game is played, blending size, speed, and skill in a way that few before him have. His versatility on the court being able to play and guard almost every position makes him a unique force. But what really sets him apart is his leadership and unselfishness. He lifts his teammates up, often making the right pass instead of the flashy shot. This selflessness is a lesson I pass on to my children about the importance of community and teamwork. Off the court, LeBron’s influence is equally impressive. He uses his platform to speak out on social issues, educate young people, and support his community. As a mother raising two boys, I want them to understand the importance of using their voice and resources to create positive change, just like LeBron does. Being raised by a single mother myself, I see how LeBron’s journey mirrors mine in many ways. He overcame hardship with strength and never let his circumstances define him. That spirit is what keeps me going when things get tough. I want my children to know that they can break cycles of poverty and struggle. Like LeBron, they can dream big, work hard, and become champions not only in sports or careers but in life. So, is LeBron James the greatest basketball player of all time? In my eyes, yes. His combination of talent, longevity, leadership, and commitment to community sets him apart. He shows us that greatness is multidimensional and that the impact you make beyond the court is just as important as the points you score. LeBron James inspires me every day to be a better mother, a stronger woman, and a relentless fighter for my family’s future. His journey is a reminder that no matter where we start, we can rise and be legends in our own right.

As a Black woman who has survived domestic violence, poverty, and systemic neglect, I know firsthand what it feels like to be unseen, unheard, and underserved. These experiences did not harden me they awakened a calling. As I pursue degrees in Radiologic Technology and Computer Science, I see them not only as keys to personal success, but as tools to uplift and empower other BIPOC women navigating similar struggles. I have walked through fire, and now I want to become the hand that reaches back to pull others out. My vision is to leverage my career in a helping profession to champion healing, access, and equity especially for BIPOC women who, like me, have faced compounding layers of discrimination, trauma, and inequality. I believe deeply in using the power of representation, advocacy, and technology to create spaces where Black and Brown women are seen, supported, and cared for both physically and emotionally. With a degree in Radiologic Technology, I will enter the healthcare field equipped not just with clinical skills, but with compassion born from lived experience. I understand the fear of walking into a hospital and being treated like a statistic instead of a human being. I plan to use my role to provide affirming care, advocate for patients whose voices are too often dismissed, and work to dismantle the unconscious bias that impacts how BIPOC women receive medical treatment. Simultaneously, my degree in Computer Science will allow me to work at the systems level building solutions that close access gaps and improve healthcare technology in underserved communities. I envision developing software that flags disparities in diagnostic data, creating educational tools for survivors of domestic violence to safely access resources, or mentoring other women of color in tech who feel out of place in male-dominated environments. But beyond the professional impact, my mission is rooted in community engagement. I plan to partner with local shelters, schools, and advocacy organizations to host workshops on digital literacy, health awareness, and trauma recovery. I want to create safe spaces where BIPOC women can share their stories, access information, and find paths toward healing and empowerment. Through mentorship, outreach, and lived testimony, I hope to be a living example that survival is not the end of the story thriving is possible. My lived experience fuels my passion for social justice. I am not chasing titles or accolades. I am pursuing education as an act of resistance a rejection of the narrative that says women like me don’t make it out. I want my success to open doors for others. I want to challenge broken systems from within, advocate for culturally competent care, and amplify the voices of those who are still fighting to be heard. To champion the well-being of BIPOC women is not just my goal it is my purpose. It means standing at the intersection of healthcare, technology, and justice, and using every resource at my disposal to bring about change. I’m not just building a career I’m building a bridge for others to cross.

About Me and What Drew Me to STEM I am a Black mother of two children, and every step of my journey through hardship, perseverance, and healing has led me to the decision to pursue a degree in both Radiologic Technology and Computer Science. For me, choosing STEM isn’t just about career stability or financial security (though those are essential). It’s about transformation turning my pain into purpose, and my experiences into tools to uplift not just my family, but others around me. My path hasn’t been easy. As a survivor of domestic violence and emotional abuse, I’ve lived through years of instability, fear, and economic hardship. But through it all, I have held onto the belief that there is more for me and more for my children. My personal experiences, especially in hospitals and emergency rooms, sparked something powerful in me. I’ve been on the other side of medical care: vulnerable, scared, and often unseen. I remember a time when I had to bring my son to the ER after a fall, and it was the radiologic technologist not even the doctor who explained everything with care, walked me through what to expect, and showed compassion without judgment. That moment stuck with me. I realized I wanted to be that for someone else to be the person who offers comfort, clarity, and care when it’s needed most. Radiologic Technology appeals to me because it blends compassion with science. It’s hands-on, patient-centered, and critically important in diagnosing illness and injury. But I also have a natural curiosity for how things work especially technology. That’s where my passion for Computer Science comes in. As I learned more about healthcare systems, I realized how much innovation is happening at the intersection of medicine and technology. I want to be part of that change, helping to improve imaging software, create better patient data systems, or even help build tools that assist with early diagnoses in under-resourced communities. What shaped my interest most, though, is motherhood. Being a mother has taught me the value of resilience, problem-solving, and resourcefulness. I’m raising two young Black boys in a world full of challenges and uncertainty and I want them to grow up knowing that their identities are powerful, that education matters, and that their mother fought to create a life rooted in stability and purpose. I want them to see a Black woman succeeding in STEM and know they can thrive too. My dual passion for Radiologic Technology and Computer Science is not about choosing one path it’s about combining them. I want to bring a compassionate heart to healthcare, and an innovative mind to the systems behind it. My dream is to eventually work at the intersection of both, helping to modernize imaging technology or improve access to medical care in underserved areas. In the end, my story is not just one of hardship it’s one of hope, determination, and vision. STEM gives me the tools to build the future I’ve always dreamed of, and this journey is bigger than just me. It’s for my children. It’s for my community. And it’s for every person who needs to see that it’s never too late to rewrite your story.

Embracing My Uniqueness to Make a Difference I am a Black woman who has endured unimaginable pain abuse, trauma, and the daily challenge of living with bipolar disorder (BD). But I am also a woman who chooses love over bitterness, empathy over anger, and purpose over defeat. My scars, both visible and invisible, have not made me weaker. They’ve made me kinder. They’ve given me a depth of understanding that cannot be taught in any classroom. And that is what sets me apart. For a long time, I believed my brokenness disqualified me from making a difference. I carried shame like armor, keeping the world at a distance. But through healing, reflection, and motherhood, I’ve come to realize that my pain has given me a rare and powerful gift the ability to see others clearly, without judgment. I don’t look away from people in their mess, because I know what it’s like to be drowning and just need someone to see you. Living with BD has taught me how complex people are. Some days are harder than others, and even the strongest smiles can hide the deepest suffering. Because of that, I’ve made it my mission to treat every person I encounter with gentleness and grace. Whether it’s the cashier having a rough day, a stranger on the street, or a fellow mother silently struggling I try to be the kind of presence I once needed and didn’t have. The truth is, we never know who is watching us. We never know whose life we might touch by simply showing up as ourselves with authenticity, compassion, and courage. I’ve had people tell me later that my words or actions made them feel seen, safe, or inspired and I had no idea at the time. It reminds me that the smallest gestures a smile, a listening ear, a kind word can ripple out in ways we may never fully realize. As a mother, especially, I’m aware that two little pairs of eyes are watching my every move. My sons see how I carry my trauma. They see how I navigate life with a mental illness. But more importantly, they see that I never give up. They see a woman who fights to be better, who shows up even when it’s hard, who treats people with kindness even when she hasn’t always received it herself. In that way, my uniqueness becomes a legacy not one of pain, but of purpose. I’ve learned that being different doesn’t make me less worthy. It makes me invaluable. My story, with all its twists and heartbreaks, is a testament to resilience. It’s what allows me to connect with people others may overlook. It’s what gives me the courage to love fearlessly, even in a world that hasn’t always loved me back. So yes, I am different. I am a Black woman with battle wounds and a bipolar mind, but I walk with empathy, strength, and intention. I use my story not to seek pity, but to plant seeds of hope quietly, gently in the hearts of others who may be hurting. And whether or not I ever know the full impact, I trust that something good is growing from every act of love I offer. Because someone, somewhere, is always watching and I want them to know that healing is possible, and kindness still exists.

The Impact of Social Media on Mental Health and Self-Esteem: A Mother’s Perspective As a Black mother raising two children in today’s internet-driven world, I often find myself both amazed and deeply concerned by the power and reach of social media. While it has opened doors to global connection, creativity, and access to information, it has also created a complex and often harmful digital landscape especially for young people. The influence of social media on mental health and self-esteem is undeniable, and as a parent, I worry about the subtle ways it shapes my children’s sense of self, safety, and identity. Social media has become a powerful force in shaping how our children see themselves and the world around them. From unrealistic beauty standards to constant comparisons, the pressure to perform and conform online can have a devastating effect on self-worth. For children of color, this impact can be even more profound. When they rarely see authentic representations of themselves or are exposed to negative stereotypes and racially charged content, it can distort their perception of their own value and identity. In addition to these issues, cyberbullying is an ever-present threat. Unlike traditional bullying, which might end when a child comes home, online harassment follows them 24/7. The anonymity of the internet allows cruelty to flourish unchecked, leaving emotional scars that often go unseen by parents or teachers. I’ve seen firsthand how easily children can become targets or how quickly they can internalize the toxic messages they consume. What’s most frightening is how deeply social media influences not just behavior, but emotional development. Children are growing up measuring their worth in likes, shares, and followers, rather than their character, creativity, or kindness. It’s heartbreaking to watch children tie their self-esteem to online validation, and even more difficult when that validation is shaped by unrealistic filters and carefully curated lives. So, what can be done? As a mother, the first step is being actively involved. Open and honest conversations are critical. I talk to my children regularly about what they see online what’s real, what’s not, and how to separate their identity from a digital image. I set boundaries, limit screen time, and encourage offline activities that build confidence and connection in the real world. On a broader scale, schools and communities must step up. Digital literacy should be taught as early as possible, helping children understand not only how to use technology, but how to protect their mental health while doing so. Parents need support and education too many of us are navigating this digital world alongside our kids without the tools or knowledge to guide them effectively. Social media platforms also bear responsibility. Stronger safeguards, anti-bullying policies, and better content moderation are needed to create safer online spaces. Representation matters too platforms should elevate diverse voices and normalize a broader range of experiences and appearances. Ultimately, addressing the mental health impact of social media requires a collective effort. As a Black mother, I will continue fighting to protect my children from harmful influences while teaching them to love themselves deeply, unapologetically, and beyond the confines of a screen. My goal is to raise children who are not only tech-savvy, but emotionally strong and secure in who they are. Because while we may not be able to control the internet, we can empower our children to navigate it with courage, critical thinking, and self-love.

As a single mother of two children, my career goals are rooted in the desire to break generational cycles of poverty, abuse, and domestic violence. I am pursuing degrees in both Radiologic Science and Computer Science because I want to create a stable, fulfilling life while setting an example for my sons. Radiologic Science allows me to enter a field that combines care and technology to help others, while Computer Science gives me the skills to innovate, problem-solve, and thrive in an ever-evolving digital world. My dream is to be a leader in healthcare technology creating solutions that improve patient care and increase access to services, especially in underserved communities. Choosing an HBCU was deeply intentional. As a Black woman who has fought through adversity, I wanted to be in an environment where I am seen, valued, and surrounded by a legacy of excellence and resilience. HBCUs offer more than education they offer belonging, empowerment, and cultural affirmation. They are spaces where Black identity is celebrated and nurtured. To me, being Black means strength, creativity, perseverance, and pride. It means carrying the weight of struggle but also the fire of generations who refused to be broken. It means walking in purpose and standing tall in a world that often tries to dim our light. Attending an HBCU allows me to continue that legacy and build a future where my sons know that their Blackness is not a barrier, but a badge of power and potential.

My Story: Strength, Survival, and a Future Rewritten At 35 years old, I stand as a Black single mother raising two incredible Black boys, holding tightly to the belief that our past does not define our future. My journey has been steeped in struggle poverty, abuse, domestic violence and yet, through it all, I have found the strength to survive, heal, and keep pushing forward. Each challenge has shaped me, but none have broken me. Instead, they’ve sharpened my resolve to build a better life not just for myself, but for my children. Growing up, I didn’t have many of the resources or support systems others take for granted. My early life was filled with instability and trauma. As a young woman, I found myself repeating painful patterns, trapped in cycles of abuse and financial hardship. But the birth of my sons changed everything. Looking into their eyes, I knew I had to rise not only to protect them, but to show them what resilience looks like. I’ve worked hard in every way imaginable emotionally, physically, spiritually to reclaim my life and my worth. I’ve juggled jobs, managed households on shoestring budgets, and fought through dark days when giving up felt easier than going on. But each time, I chose to stand up again. I chose to be the mother they deserve. I chose to believe that education could be our way out. My passion for radiologic science and computer science is rooted in a desire to combine empathy with innovation. Radiologic science appeals to my nurturing side helping diagnose and care for people during vulnerable times. Computer science speaks to my curiosity and love for problem-solving. Together, these fields represent stability, challenge, and the opportunity to create a better life for my family. I want my sons to see a Black woman excel in STEM, to witness their mother earn her degree, and to understand that no dream is beyond reach when backed by determination. My aspiration is simple yet powerful: to rewrite the story that was written for me. I want to show my sons that our history does not limit us it can empower us. I want them to grow up in a home filled with hope, with a role model who proves that growth and healing are always possible. Every sleepless night, every tear shed, and every obstacle faced has brought me to this moment. I am not defined by my past I am driven by it. And I’m ready to rise, learn, and lead not just for myself, but for two young boys who are watching closely, learning strength through their mother’s example.

My name is RaNisha Cason, and I am a proud Black single mother of two beautiful children. My journey into the world of science has not been conventional but it has been deeply rooted in resilience, purpose, and the determination to change both my life and the lives of others. From a young age, I was drawn to the precision and logic of mathematics and the endless curiosity that science encouraged. Growing up in a community where Black women in STEM were few and far between, I didn’t see myself reflected in textbooks or laboratories. But I saw the power that knowledge held. I knew that if I could understand the how and why behind the world around me, I could help improve it and maybe even inspire others to do the same. Life, however, had its own timeline. I became a mother young and had to set aside my academic dreams to raise my children and provide for them. While I never regretted that choice, the hunger to learn never faded. I worked multiple jobs, enrolled in night classes, and slowly began building the foundation for a career in science. Now, as a returning student, I am pursuing a degree in Computer Science and Radiologic Science, determined not just to earn a diploma, but to make a lasting impact. My long-term goal is to work in Health Information Management, where I can combine technical knowledge with community-focused solutions. I want to use science as a tool for social justice addressing issues like environmental inequality, healthcare disparities, or education gaps in underserved neighborhoods. As a mother, I’m not only doing this for myself but for my children. I want them to see that no matter your starting point, your dreams are valid and possible. I also want to serve as a mentor to other women of color who feel like STEM is a door closed to them. We belong in every lab, classroom, and boardroom where decisions are made, and futures are shaped. My life experience has given me grit, compassion, and a deep understanding of the real-world problems math and science can help solve. I plan to bring all of that into my future career. I believe representation matters and by simply showing up, I hope to help shift the narrative of who a scientist or mathematician can be. With the right support, I know I can contribute something meaningful to this field not just through my work, but through the lives I hope to touch along the way.

My name is RaNisha Cason, and I am a 35-year-old Black mother who has faced poverty, trauma, and mental health challenges, but I refuse to let any of those experiences define my future. Instead, they fuel my purpose. I have spent years fighting battles most people never see fighting for my mental and physical health, for stability, and for a better life for my child. Now, I’m using everything I’ve endured as the foundation for a career dedicated to helping others who are navigating their own storms. I grew up in an environment where poverty was a constant shadow. From a young age, I understood what it meant to go without food, without safety, without support. I saw how systemic racism and generational poverty affected my family and community. Education wasn’t always prioritized because survival took up most of the space. But even in those hard times, I always held on to a quiet belief: that learning had the power to transform lives. As I got older, life continued to throw obstacles in my path. I experienced domestic violence, struggled with undiagnosed mental illness, and later was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety. On top of that, I live with several autoimmune conditions that affect me physically every day. There were moments I didn’t think I would make it times when I couldn’t see a way forward. But becoming a mother gave me the strength to keep going. My child became my reason to fight harder, to dream bigger, and to finally go after the education I had put off for so long. Returning to school has been one of the most empowering decisions I’ve ever made. It hasn’t been easy balancing motherhood, chronic illness, and coursework takes everything I have. But I know I am walking in purpose. My goal is to pursue a degree in social work, psychology, or mental health counseling. I want to become a licensed professional who helps underserved populations, especially Black women and single mothers, access the mental health resources they need and deserve. Too often, people in my community suffer in silence. Mental illness carries stigma, poverty creates isolation, and too many women feel like they have to be strong for everyone but themselves. I want to change that. I want to create safe spaces, offer culturally competent support, and advocate for policies that prioritize wellness and equity. My dream is to open a wellness center that provides therapy, support groups, childcare, and educational resources under one roof especially for women who, like me, have had to be everything for everyone and have had nowhere to fall apart safely. Through my studies, I’m not just gaining knowledge I’m gaining the tools to break generational cycles. I’m learning how to turn pain into purpose, trauma into testimony, and adversity into action. I want my child to see not just who I am, but who I’ve become. I want them to grow up proud of the woman who never gave up, no matter how hard life became. This journey isn’t just about me. It’s about my family, my community, and all the people who don’t yet believe that they’re capable of more. I am here to prove that your past does not define your potential. With the right education and support, I will become a change-maker, a healer, and a voice for those who are still finding their own. I’m not just chasing a career I’m answering a calling.

My journey has been anything but easy. I am a 35-year-old single Black mother who has faced more obstacles than most people encounter in a lifetime. I’ve battled poverty, domestic violence, mental illness, and chronic health issues. I have cultivated a deep and unshakable resilience. I have learned how to survive, how to heal, and most importantly how to rise. Today, I am not just surviving. I am actively pursuing higher education to build a better life for myself, my child, and my community. Growing up in poverty meant learning to do without. I often went to bed hungry and watched my family struggle to keep the lights on. Education always felt like the key to something better, but when life keeps you in survival mode, dreams can feel distant. As I got older, I found myself trapped in a cycle of abusive relationships, financial instability, and untreated mental health issues. I was eventually diagnosed with bipolar disorder, anxiety, and depression, and I live with several autoimmune diseases that affect my energy and physical strength. These diagnoses were scary, but they also gave me a sense of clarity. I finally had names for the things I had been silently battling for years. When I became a mother, everything changed. Suddenly, I wasn’t just living for myself. I was responsible for another life one that depended on me for safety, love, and direction. My child became the heartbeat of my purpose. Every step I take toward higher education is a step toward showing my child what strength and possibility look like. I want them to know that we are not defined by where we start, we are defined by how we rise. Returning to school as a non-traditional student was one of the most difficult decisions I’ve made, but also one of the most empowering. Between parenting, managing my mental and physical health, and working to make ends meet, pursuing a degree has required tremendous sacrifice. There are days I study through pain and nights I stay up writing papers after tucking my child into bed. Every lecture I attend, every exam I pass, brings me one step closer to creating lasting change. My dream is to earn a degree in social work or psychology so I can give back to others who are facing similar struggles. I want to advocate for single mothers, survivors of abuse, people battling mental illness, and underserved communities that often go unseen. I want to be a voice for those who feel silenced by their circumstances. My lived experience has taught me empathy and perseverance, and I believe those are powerful tools in creating real change. This scholarship would not only ease the financial burden of school it would affirm that my story matters, that my efforts are seen, and that my future is worth investing in. It would allow me to focus more on my studies and my health without constantly worrying about how I’ll afford books, tuition, or basic needs for my child. With this support, I can continue building the foundation for a stable, fulfilling life and create a ripple effect that extends far beyond myself. My community needs more people who understand its pain and potential. I'm determined to be one of those people. Through education, I will rise and in doing so, I will lift others with me. This isn’t just about me getting a degree. It’s about breaking generational cycles, planting seeds of hope, and showing my child and others like us that no matter what you’ve been through, you still deserve to dream, to heal, and to succeed.

One of the most significant obstacles I’ve had to overcome in pursuit of higher education is balancing the demands of motherhood, mental and physical health challenges, and financial hardship all while returning to school at the age of 35 as a single Black mother. For years, I believed higher education wasn’t within reach for someone like me. I had been told directly and indirectly that my dreams should be smaller, that I should “just be grateful” to survive. But surviving wasn’t enough. I wanted to grow, to learn, and to show my child that no matter where you come from, you can write your own future. The road hasn’t been easy. As a single mother, every day is a juggling act. Between childcare, work, doctor’s appointments, and schoolwork, there are moments when it feels like there simply aren’t enough hours in the day. There have been nights I stayed up studying while holding my child through a fever. There have been mornings I’ve dragged myself out of bed despite joint pain from autoimmune disease or the weight of depression. I’ve had to learn to navigate manic highs and depressive lows while trying to meet deadlines, attend classes, and keep my household running. Each step forward has required immense determination. But I haven’t done it alone. One of the people who helped me overcome these obstacles is my grandmother. A woman of deep strength and quiet wisdom, she didn’t have the chance to finish school herself. But she always emphasized the value of education. She watched me struggle through abusive relationships, helped care for my child when I couldn’t afford daycare, and reminded me of who I was when I felt like I had nothing left to give. Her belief in me has been a steady light through some of the darkest moments. There was a time when I wanted to give up when I questioned whether I had what it took to succeed in school again after so many years. I was sitting at my kitchen table, exhausted, overwhelmed, and on the verge of tears after failing a quiz I had stayed up all night to study for. My grandmother sat beside me, looked me in the eyes, and said, “You’re doing this not just for you, but for your baby. And you’re doing better than you think.” That moment shifted something in me. I realized that I didn’t have to be perfect I just had to keep going. I’ve also received encouragement from professors and mentors who understood my situation, who treated me with compassion rather than pity. Their flexibility and support allowed me to stay enrolled even during health flare-ups or mental health episodes. They saw my potential and gave me the space to grow into it. Today, I am still climbing but I am no longer climbing alone, and I no longer doubt whether I belong in higher education. I know that my journey makes me stronger, not weaker. I know that overcoming these obstacles is not a detour from my education it is my education. It has taught me resilience, time management, self-advocacy, and how to persevere even when everything seems stacked against you. I carry my past with me not as a weight, but as a source of fuel. I am a 35-year-old single Black mother pursuing higher education not just to change my life, but to change the narrative for those who come after me. And I owe that perseverance, in large part, to the woman who never let me forget that I was capable of more. Thank you for the opportunity.

My passion for helping my community comes from living through the very struggles I now want to help others overcome. I know what it feels like to grow up in survival mode, where poverty shapes every decision and your dreams feel too far away to chase. As a single Black mother raising two boys, and a first-generation college student, I’ve had to fight for every step forward. That fight has ignited something deep in me a calling to reach back and lift up young Black girls who are growing up in similar circumstances. Too often, Black girls are expected to be strong before they’ve even had a chance to be children. We’re over-policed, under-protected, overlooked in classrooms, and underestimated in boardrooms. But I see us. I see the brilliance, the creativity, and the potential that gets buried under poverty, trauma, and lack of opportunity. I also see how a little support, guidance, and belief can change everything. That’s what I needed growing up and that’s what I plan to give. My passion is rooted in creating real, lasting change, not just temporary solutions. I don’t want to just help someone get through a tough week; I want to help them build a life they love. That’s why I’m pursuing higher education in social work and community development. Through my career, I intend to create programs that empower young Black girls with mentorship, mental health support, academic resources, and life skills. I want to build spaces where they are safe to grow, to heal, and to dream. I envision founding a nonprofit that works directly in low-income neighborhoods, offering workshops on self-esteem, financial literacy, leadership, and goal setting all taught by women who look like them and have walked similar paths. I want to create pipelines to college and career opportunities, because I believe poverty isn’t just a lack of money it’s a lack of access, networks, and belief in what’s possible. But I also know it starts with listening. Every girl has a story. I want them to know their voice matters and that someone is here not to judge, but to walk beside them. I’ve been that girl the one pretending to be okay while silently breaking. And now that I’ve found my voice, I want to use it to help others find theirs. Helping my community isn’t just a goal it’s a responsibility. I carry the hopes of the women who came before me and the girls growing up now. My life has shown me that change is possible. And through my education and future career, I intend to be living proof that you can rise and bring others with you.

When I think about how domestic violence has impacted my life, it’s not just a memory it’s a scar that still shapes how I move through the world. I was 19 the first time. I had just become a mother. I was still figuring out who I was, let alone how to raise a child. The relationship turned abusive before I even realized what was happening. What started as control and manipulation turned into isolation, emotional abuse, and then physical harm. I didn’t have the language for it at the time, but I knew something was deeply wrong. I stayed longer than I wanted to because I was scared, broke, and convinced I had to hold my family together no matter the cost to myself. I got out. But at 23, it happened again. Another relationship that broke me. Another round of apologies, promises, and walking on eggshells. And this time, I had two boys to protect. That was the turning point. I looked at them tiny, innocent, watching everything and I made the decision that they would not grow up thinking this was normal. I left for the last time moving back in with my mother with nothing but the things I had purchased a will to survive. The journey since hasn’t been easy. There were nights I cried after putting them to bed, mornings I went to work with bruises on my heart even after the physical ones had faded. But I kept going. I found support in a friend who was actually going through the same thing, and I went to therapy when I could. I worked multiple jobs. And now, I’m in college something I never thought possible. I’m not just doing this for me. I’m doing it for every woman who ever felt trapped, voiceless, or invisible. What I experienced opened my eyes to how broken the system is, especially for Black women. We’re often dismissed, misunderstood, or treated like we’re supposed to be strong enough to endure anything. But I don’t believe survival should be the expectation. We deserve healing. We deserve dignity. We deserve real care. I feel as though what you see and how you are treated at home plays a part in some of the choice you make. Maybe if I wasn't abused at home first, I could have recognized the signs in men and made better choices. I want to advocate for systemic change. That means fighting for more inclusive training for service providers, so they recognize how racism, sexism, and poverty intersect with abuse. That means helping to build programs that don’t just treat symptoms but understand stories. That means listening to women who’ve been silenced and then making sure their needs are at the center of policy, not an afterthought. Most women don't even think they have options, but they do and I'm living proof. Most of all, I want to show my sons a different legacy. I want them to grow up respecting women, understanding boundaries, and believing in emotional health. I want them to know that cycles can be broken and that their mother helped do it. My past is painful, but it is also my fuel. Higher education is not just a way out it’s a way forward. With it, I will continue to heal, continue to rise, and work to ensure that Black women like me are seen, heard, and truly supported.

As a young, single Black mother of two boys, my identity has been shaped not only by the love I give but also by the love I had to learn to give myself. Growing up with a mother who did not like me—who withheld affection, support, and affirmation—left scars that took years to name and even longer to begin healing. Yet, those painful experiences are also what have shaped my unique perspective on the world and helped me find my place within it as a mother, a woman of color, and a source of strength for my children. My childhood taught me what absence feels like—not just physical absence, but emotional neglect. It created a hunger in me to be seen, valued, and protected. As I grew older, I realized that while I couldn't rewrite my past, I could break generational cycles for my own children. Becoming a mother at a young age could have broken me. Instead, it became my turning point. It lit a fire in me to be the kind of parent I never had-loving, present, nurturing, and consistent. Being a Black woman in America adds another layer to how I see the world. I am constantly aware of how society views me—how it stereotypes single mothers, how it doubts young Black women, and how it overlooks our struggles while minimizing our strength. My perspective also shaped by hope. Hope that my boys will grow up in a world where Black children are not feared but cherished.

My pro-life beliefs have been shaped by a combination of personal experiences, faith, and a deep conviction that every human life, from conception to natural death, has inherent dignity and worth. Growing up in a family that emphasized compassion, service, and the sanctity of life, I was taught that each person—no matter how small, vulnerable, or different—has value simply because they exist. My beliefs were further shaped by volunteering at a local pregnancy resource center during high school. There, I encountered women facing unplanned pregnancies, often overwhelmed by fear, financial pressure, or lack of support. Rather than judgment, the center offered these women resources, counseling, and unconditional care. Witnessing the transformative power of support and information opened my eyes to how many women choose abortion not out of desire, but out of desperation. That experience confirmed to me that being pro-life means not only valuing the unborn, but also supporting the women and families involved with compassion and practical assistance. To promote the dignity of all human beings, especially the unborn, I’ve been active in both advocacy and service. I participate in local March for Life events and awareness campaigns that emphasize both the humanity of the unborn and the need for holistic support for mothers. On campus, I helped organize educational events through our Students for Life chapter, including speakers, film screenings, and donation drives for maternity homes. We aimed to foster respectful dialogue and provide tangible resources, such as diapers and baby formula, for families in need. Additionally, I advocate for policies that support life-affirming choices—access to healthcare, paid maternity leave, affordable childcare, and adoption reform. Being pro-life must go beyond opposing abortion; it requires building a culture where choosing life is supported and celebrated. In the future, I hope to continue this mission by combining my career goals with pro-life advocacy. Whether through technology, education, or community development, I want to contribute to a society where every life is protected, and every person is empowered to flourish. Ultimately, my pro-life position is rooted in love—for the unborn, for mothers, and for all who are vulnerable. I believe that each human life reflects a unique and unrepeatable value, and I am committed to upholding that truth in both word and action. As a young mother at the age of 19 and again at 23, my choice was to keep my children despite all the negative stigma I endured during pregnancy and after. My family didn't want me to have children because they thought they could ride my coattail if I continued to play basketball. While it has been hard being a single parent, I don't know what life would be like without my children. I thank God for them daily because truly the life I was living, I could be dead. Raising a tiny human can shape you and heal you in ways that you didn't know you needed. I will forever be grateful for that. Thank you for the opportunity.

From a young age, I have been captivated by the power of technology to solve real-world problems and improve lives. My curiosity began with taking apart gadgets at home and grew into a passion for computer science, where I found joy in coding, building software, and understanding the logic that drives digital innovation. I chose to pursue a degree in computer science because it combines creativity, problem-solving, and impact—allowing me to contribute meaningfully to the digital future. I put my first computer together back in 2017 and was so excited that I had done that but unfortunately, I had to quit the program because it didn't align with a fulltime job. My long-term career goal is to become a software engineer focused on developing accessible and ethical technology solutions, particularly in education and healthcare. I aspire to work on projects that bridge the digital divide and make essential services more inclusive and effective through technology. This scholarship will not only ease the financial burden of tuition and academic expenses but will also allow me to dedicate more time to internships, research, and community tech initiatives that align with my career goals. The path to higher education hasn’t been without obstacles. As a first-generation college student, navigating the academic system often felt overwhelming. Financial instability was a persistent challenge, requiring me to juggle part-time jobs while maintaining academic performance. Despite this, I stayed committed to my studies and sought out mentorship and learning opportunities, including hackathons, coding bootcamps, and volunteer teaching. These experiences not only strengthened my technical skills but also reinforced my resilience and determination to succeed in tech. Diversity and inclusion in the tech industry are vital—not just for fairness but for innovation. Diverse teams bring a wider range of perspectives, which leads to better problem-solving and more user-friendly technology. When people from different backgrounds have a seat at the table, the solutions we build are more likely to serve the needs of everyone, not just a privileged few. As someone from an underrepresented group in tech, I am committed to creating inclusive spaces and mentoring others so that the tech community becomes more reflective of the world it serves. My youngest son and myself share the same desires to be in tech and while I am currently working on my associates degree, I think it is very important for him to not only see me represent people of color but also feel comfortable in spaces that don't really want to include people of color. Being able to obtain a high school education seemed like the last thing I would do considering my odds. I made it to college but wasn't able to continue due to injury on an athletic scholarship, I have tried multiple times to get my college education and now that I have the time, I would like to use my resources to make sure that I can finish the programs without having to worry about the financial aspect of school. It is getting more expensive by the semester, and I really need this opportunity to not only be great for myself but to be great for my children and other black girls and women that will come after me. Thank you for the opportunity to be able to apply.

Charity is important to me because I think it's important to give back and help others in need. While society will say people are lazy or unwilling to do for themselves, I believe some people are simply just less fortunate. I think in some cases its always good to remember how far you have come and in other is always good to know where you could be. I want to make it my mission to help single parents who are trying. I know there are a lot of government programs that are designed to help but only the ones that are working or that have a lot of children. I want to help parents that are doing everything they can and still come up short. I think it is important for children to have time with their parents' making memories and if the parent is always working, those memories can't be made. So, one day I would like to start an organization simply for those parents who make too much for the help. Thank you for the opportunity to receive this scholarship.