By 6:30 a.m., I am already in motion: warming bottles for my infant, making sure my middle schooler eats breakfast, packing lunches, and brewing coffee for my fiancé before he heads out the door. As they eat, I prepare for a demanding full-time job at State Farm and my upcoming coursework at Howard University, where I am pursuing a degree in Human Development. Balancing home, work, and school is not easy, but my commitment to mental health and inclusion fuels everything I do. Representation in mental health matters. As a Black woman, I have experienced firsthand the cultural stigma, systemic barriers, and lack of accessible care that keep people, especially BIPOC women, from seeking help. My lived experiences have not only shaped my empathy but also my determination to be part of the solution. I want my clients to see themselves in me and know that their culture, history, and unique challenges will be respected in their care. My goal is to become a licensed therapist specializing in women’s mental health, family dynamics, and advocacy. I plan to open a private practice that blends therapy, education, and community engagement. This will include culturally competent counseling, workshops in underserved neighborhoods, and partnerships with schools and local organizations to normalize mental health conversations early on. Inclusion is more than a concept; it is a practice. I believe in creating safe spaces where people feel heard, valued, and understood regardless of race, gender identity, or socioeconomic status. For BIPOC women, especially, these spaces can be life-changing. I plan to offer sliding-scale services, bilingual resources through partnerships, and programs that reflect the needs of the community rather than a one-size-fits-all model. Prioritizing my own mental health helps me stay grounded in this mission. I start my mornings with quiet time before my household wakes up, even if it is only ten minutes with my coffee. I attend therapy to process challenges and strengthen my coping skills. At night, I release stress by turning my living room into my stage, music up, lights low, and me dancing like no one is watching. That joy reminds me that mental wellness includes both healing and celebration. This scholarship would help me continue my education without the constant weight of financial strain. My degree is not just for me; it is a commitment to the communities I will serve, the women I will empower, and the future where mental health care is accessible, inclusive, and free of stigma.

By 6:30 a.m., I am already in motion: warming bottles for my infant, making sure my middle schooler eats breakfast, packing lunches, and brewing coffee for my fiancé before he heads out the door. As they eat, I prepare for a demanding full-time job at State Farm and my upcoming coursework at Howard University, where I am pursuing a degree in Human Development. Balancing home, work, and school requires more than organization—it demands a daily commitment to protecting my mental health so I can show up fully in every area of my life. Mental health has shaped my personal and academic journey in significant ways. As a Black woman, I have seen firsthand how cultural stigma, systemic barriers, and lack of access to resources can keep people from seeking help. I have also felt the effects of stress and anxiety while balancing multiple responsibilities. These experiences have deepened my empathy and strengthened my resolve to be part of the solution. My vision is to become a licensed therapist who focuses on women’s mental health, family dynamics, and advocacy. I plan to open a private practice where mental health care is not only accessible, but also culturally informed and free of judgment. Through therapy sessions, community workshops, and school-based programs, I aim to create safe spaces for open conversation and practical healing tools—especially for women in BIPOC communities, who are often told to push through without addressing their own needs. Advocacy will be central to my work. I want to collaborate with community organizations, policymakers, and non-profits to address systemic inequities that affect mental wellness: from affordable care to workplace policies that support mental health. By combining professional training with lived experience, I can help amplify voices that have too often been overlooked. Prioritizing my own mental health keeps me grounded in this mission. I make space for “me time” each morning before the house wakes up, even if it is just ten minutes with my coffee. I attend therapy sessions to process challenges and build healthier coping strategies. And at night, I release stress by turning my living room into my stage—music up, lights low, and me dancing like no one is watching. That joy reminds me that mental health is about more than managing symptoms; it is about creating a life worth living. This scholarship would help reduce the financial strain of pursuing my degree, allowing me to focus on my studies and community work. My goal is not only to elevate awareness, but also to lead by example—proving that seeking help, prioritizing wellness, and advocating for change are powerful acts of self-preservation and social justice.

By 6:30 a.m., I’m already in motion. Warming bottles for my infant, making sure my middle schooler eats breakfast, packing lunches, and brewing coffee for my fiancé before he heads out the door for work. As they eat, I’m getting myself ready for a demanding full-time job at State Farm that doesn’t allow me the flexibility to work from home. Between managing home, work, and school, my days are a careful balancing act that requires me to actively protect my mental health so I can show up for my family, my academics, and myself. Mental health impacts every corner of my academic life. As a Human Development major at Howard University, my studies are both exciting and rigorous. I attend classes online in the evenings, often after a full day of work and parenting. Fatigue and overwhelm can creep in quickly if I’m not careful. When anxiety spikes, focusing on assignments becomes harder, and even simple tasks can feel like climbing a hill. I have learned to adapt by breaking assignments into smaller steps, setting realistic timelines, and giving myself grace when things do not go perfectly. Outside of school, my mental health shapes the way I parent, love, and advocate for others. When I am mentally drained, patience is harder to come by. I have seen how my own stress levels affect the tone of my home, which is why I work to create balance. Protecting my mental health allows me to model resilience for my children and show them that self-care is a strength, not a weakness. Prioritizing my mental health is not an afterthought; it is built into my daily routine. I carve out “me time” in the mornings before the house wakes up, even if it is just ten quiet minutes with my coffee. I attend therapy sessions to process challenges and develop healthy coping strategies. I set boundaries at work so I am not mentally carrying my job home. At night, I release stress by turning my living room into my stage, music up, lights low, and me dancing like no one is watching. It is my reminder that joy is just as important to my mental health as rest or reflection, and that creativity has a place in my healing. I also lean on my support network of family, friends, and fellow students when things get heavy. Having people I can be honest with about my struggles keeps me grounded. On the hardest days, I remind myself why I am doing this: to become a licensed therapist focused on women’s mental health, helping others break cycles of burnout and self-neglect. With this scholarship, I can ease some of the financial pressure that comes with being a working mother in college, giving me more space to focus on the things that matter most—my education, my well-being, and the future I am building for my family.

I want to become a licensed therapist who creates space for women—especially Black women—to be seen, heard, and healed. My dream is to open a practice rooted in radical care, offering therapy, workshops, and real tools for families breaking generational cycles. I want to help us unlearn the lie that strength means silence. Being Black? Whew. It’s soul. It’s rhythm. It’s resilience. It’s being overlooked and still shining. It means dancing in joy while carrying the weight of a world that tries to dim our light. It’s knowing who I am, even when systems try to tell me otherwise. I love us so deeply. We are poetry, power, and protest wrapped in melanin. Choosing to attend an HBCU, especially Howard, is my way of reclaiming what the world often tries to deny us—belonging. I want my black sons & nephews to see that in a country where folks scream about making America “great” by silencing voices like ours, we are still here. Still thriving. Still rising. We are a force that cannot be reckoned with. Watching A Different World as a kid, I admired characters like Freddie. Watching it now, I understand her. I see myself in her fight, her softness, her passion. And like her, I believe my purpose is rooted in love, resistance, and building something better—for us.

Mental health was once a quiet thought in the back of my mind — something we didn’t really talk about growing up. But that changed the moment I became a mother. My son Jayden was diagnosed with ADHD and depression, and suddenly I was thrown into the world of evaluations, medications, and emotional support — all while being expected to hold everything together. As a Black mother in a Black household, I quickly realized how rare it was to have honest, judgment-free conversations about mental health. We often hear “pray about it” or “he’s just being bad,” but I knew better. I knew my son needed understanding, patience, and proper care — and I made it my mission to give him just that. That experience ignited a passion in me. I wanted to learn more, do more, and be more — not just for my son, but for other families who don’t have the language or resources to name what they’re going through. It’s not easy navigating mental health as a Black family. We face stigma, lack of access, and cultural pressure to stay silent. But my son deserves better. Our community deserves better. That belief shaped my career aspiration: to become a licensed therapist specializing in women’s and family mental health — especially for mothers like me. I decided to pursue a degree in Human Development because I wanted to understand the full picture — how people grow, what shapes our behaviors, and how early trauma can silently follow us into adulthood. I’ve always been fascinated by the “why” behind human behavior, and this program gave me the foundation to ask those questions in ways that lead to healing, not judgment. From childhood development to family systems, I want to know it all — so I can eventually pour that knowledge back into my community. Jayden’s journey hasn’t been easy. He’s had to navigate the pain of growing up without a consistent father figure. When my fiancé came into our lives, Jayden was at a critical age — full of questions, emotions, and big feelings he didn’t always have the tools to express. And my fiancé? He had never dated someone with children, let alone become a stepfather to a preteen dealing with mental health challenges. It was an adjustment for both of them. They clashed at times, misunderstood each other, and struggled to build trust. But I watched as they both grew — learning to listen, to meet each other where they were, and to try again the next day. That’s what healing looks like. My fiancé is a Navy veteran, born and raised in Sudan. Culturally, emotionally, and spiritually — we come from two very different worlds. Our communication styles often clashed, and we had to unlearn so much just to find our rhythm. Add in being new parents to a premature baby, raising a child with ADHD and depression, managing school and work, and navigating life as a multicultural couple in America? The mental load was intense. There were days we loved deeply and days we barely recognized each other. But instead of letting those challenges break us, I encouraged therapy. All of us — myself, Jayden, and my fiancé — now have our own therapists. And together, we also attend couples therapy. That decision changed everything. It taught us how to fight fair, how to listen without defensiveness, and how to love without control. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is the power of early intervention. If more families had access to mental health resources earlier in life — especially in childhood — we could prevent so much unnecessary pain. My son didn’t need to be “fixed.” He needed to be seen, supported, and loved through his struggles. And that’s true for so many children, especially Black boys who are too often labeled before they are listened to. I want to be the kind of therapist who creates safe spaces where people don’t have to explain why they’re hurting — they can just show up and be human. Being the only woman in a house full of men — my son, my partner, my infant — I carry a lot. I am the nurturer, the peacekeeper, the emotional anchor. I’m the one who schedules the doctor’s appointments, checks in on everyone’s moods, and tries to maintain harmony when the energy feels off. But I’ve also learned that I can’t pour from an empty cup. My mental health matters too. I’ve had to redefine what strength looks like. It’s not about pretending to have it all together — it’s about reaching out for support when you don’t. That’s why this scholarship speaks to me — especially with the word “MEN” so intentionally highlighted in the word “mental.” The men in my life pushed me into this work. I’ve had to advocate for them, grow with them, and sometimes be the emotional translator between them. I’ve watched a young boy learn to manage big emotions without shame. I’ve watched a man from another continent learn how to parent and love a child who isn’t biologically his. I’ve seen what therapy can do when we allow space for softness — even in the face of pride, trauma, or cultural resistance. These experiences fuel my passion to become a licensed therapist. I want to help other families — especially Black and immigrant families — navigate the emotional complexity of relationships, parenting, and healing. I want to create a safe space for mothers who feel overwhelmed, for fathers who don’t know how to open up, and for children who are learning that it’s okay to feel. Receiving this scholarship would mean more than financial assistance. It would be an investment in my purpose — in the communities I plan to serve, the cycles I hope to break, and the legacy I want to leave behind. I want to be part of the change that normalizes therapy in Black households, that encourages men to speak up without shame, and that empowers women to put themselves on their own priority list. This work is personal. It’s spiritual. It’s necessary. And I’m ready to do the work.

As a single mother of two boys from Newark, New Jersey, I have experienced firsthand the emotional, mental, and financial challenges that many women face—especially during and after childbirth. These experiences have not only shaped my resilience, but also sparked a deep commitment to mental health advocacy, particularly for women navigating postpartum struggles in underserved communities. With a degree in Human Development, I plan to become a licensed advocate and educator, providing support systems that empower individuals and families to thrive emotionally. Currently, I am already making a difference in my community here in Atlanta, GA, through my work in property management. I’m often the first point of contact for residents in crisis, and I take that role seriously. Whether it's guiding someone toward mental health resources, de-escalating conflict, or simply being someone who listens without judgment, I have learned the value of showing up for people when they feel unseen. Beyond my job, I’m also involved in organizing youth mentorship activities and informally supporting mothers who feel overwhelmed and isolated—especially those silently battling postpartum depression, as I once did. My vision for the future is grounded in compassion and fueled by purpose. After earning my degree, I plan to establish a nonprofit wellness center in Newark that offers culturally sensitive therapy, parenting support, postpartum care workshops, and emotional development resources for youth. I want to create a space where mental health is prioritized, stigma is dismantled, and people—especially women and mothers—can reclaim their emotional strength without shame. I believe that mental wellness is a right, not a privilege, and I am determined to bring that belief to life in the place I call home. Being a mother has given me a powerful perspective on what it means to nurture and protect. But more than that, it’s given me the drive to create a better world for my children and others like them. I want my sons to grow up in a community where emotional intelligence is normalized, where asking for help is seen as a strength, and where their mother is part of a movement for healing and hope. I know the road ahead won't be easy—but I’m not afraid of hard work. I’ve balanced motherhood, full-time work, and school with determination because I know what’s at stake. I am building a future not just for my boys, but for every woman who has ever felt alone in her struggles. Through my education, my lived experience, and my passion for advocacy, I plan to become a voice for the voiceless—and a light for those still trying to find their way.

I am a single mother who moved to Atlanta to create a better life for my two sons. Growing up, I faced hardship, including homelessness, but I’ve learned to see these experiences as stepping stones. My sensitivity and empathy, once seen as weaknesses, now fuel my desire to support others facing similar struggles. The Black experience has profoundly shaped my journey and career goals. As a Black woman, I’ve seen firsthand the disparities in education, mental health, and access to resources in communities of color. These challenges motivated me to pursue a career in therapy, where I can advocate for emotional well-being in Black communities, where mental health is often stigmatized. My goal is to offer therapeutic support to individuals and families navigating these challenges. Attending an HBCU like Howard University is vital to my path. It represents a space where my identity, culture, and lived experiences will be celebrated. Howard’s environment will empower me to pursue my goals, surrounded by a community that shares my commitment to uplifting the Black community. I believe this environment will help me grow both as a scholar and a future therapist. My personal journey has been one of perseverance. After my first son was born, I attempted college but found it difficult to balance motherhood with education. However, I moved to Atlanta to stabilize my family, enrolled in online courses, and earned my Associate’s degree in Business Administration. Although this was an achievement, my passion for human development led me to change my major and pursue a degree aligned with my goal of becoming a therapist. Balancing motherhood with school—especially with a 12-year-old and a 5-month-old—has been challenging but has strengthened my resolve. My sons motivate me daily, and I want them to understand that, regardless of obstacles, education is the key to a better future. Implementing a positive impact on the world starts with positive impact on my boys. With this scholarship, I will be able to focus more on my studies and less on financial stress, making it possible to continue my journey toward becoming a therapist. I aim to serve Black communities, providing them with the mental health resources and support they deserve. I believe in the healing power of education and compassion, and I am committed to helping those in need, especially within the Black community. Through my studies and future career, I hope to make a lasting impact by being a source of guidance, support, and hope for others.

Continuing my education has been fueled by my desire to create a better life for myself and my sons. From a young age, I knew that education was key to a brighter future. After high school, I became a single mother, and though I had dreams of attending college, raising my son and providing for him became my top priority. My aspirations were delayed, but my motivation to build a stable foundation for my children kept me going. Pursuing my education is not just for me—it’s for them. I faced many challenges, and the most significant one was balancing motherhood with my desire to pursue a degree. After moving to Atlanta in search of a better life, I realized the need to further my education. However, I quickly learned that juggling coursework and caring for my sons—one 12 years old and the other 5 months old—was not easy. I often found myself working late into the night after my son went to bed or waking up early to prepare them for the day while studying. Another major challenge has been the unpredictability of being a single mother. Life rarely goes according to plan. If my youngest is sick, I have to take time off from school. If my older son needs something urgent, I have to prioritize him. These challenges sometimes impact my schoolwork, but I’ve learned to adapt. Time management has become essential. I’ve learned to plan ahead, work with my professors when I need help, and be flexible when the unexpected happens. Being both a mother and a student requires constant balancing. I’ve found strategies to manage my roles. I maintain a strict schedule for school and my sons’ needs. When I need help, I reach out for support, whether it’s finding reliable childcare or communicating with my professors. Most importantly, my sons are my motivation. I want them to see that education is vital for success, and I want to teach them that no matter what challenges life throws our way, perseverance and hard work lead to brighter futures. This is vital because although I wish for my children to live in a perfect world, we all know it does not exist. Continuing my education is also prepping my boys for their futures. Continuing my education is more than just achieving my own dreams—it’s about setting an example for my children. This scholarship would provide the financial support I need to lessen the burden of tuition and school expenses. It would allow me to focus more on my studies and less on how to make ends meet. With this scholarship, I’ll be able to continue working toward my long term goal of becoming a therapist while also ensuring my children’s futures are filled with opportunities.