Living with a rare disease has changed how I see healthcare. I have idiopathic intracranial hypertension, a condition that causes increased pressure around the brain without a clear cause. It can mimic the symptoms of a brain tumor with debilitating headaches, vision changes, and constant pressure, yet it often goes unseen and misunderstood. My experience with this condition has taught me what it means to feel invisible in a system that does not always recognize rare illnesses. It has also fueled my determination to change that for others. As an emergency nurse, I often meet patients in their most frightening moments. Many come in terrified and unsure, desperate for someone to listen. I have been that patient before. I have felt the frustration of being dismissed and the exhaustion of trying to explain symptoms that do not fit neatly into a textbook. That is why I make it a priority to treat every patient with empathy and curiosity. Whether it is someone with a rare neurological disorder, a lung condition, or an unexplained illness, I listen, I validate, and I advocate. Emergency medicine gives me the chance to make a difference in those first critical moments when patients are often scared and overlooked. My own diagnosis took years, and I learned the importance of clinicians who take the time to look deeper. Now, when I assess a patient with subtle but serious symptoms, I do not rush to the most common explanation. I consider the rare. That mindset can be lifesaving. Beyond the bedside, I want to use my experience to promote awareness for rare diseases like idiopathic intracranial hypertension. Conditions like mine are often under-researched and underfunded, leaving patients without answers or adequate care. I hope to contribute to initiatives that improve early recognition, patient education, and provider training. When I complete my BSN program and continue on to become a nurse practitioner, I plan to use that advanced role to help shape care protocols that include rare and complex conditions instead of excluding them. My goal is not only to treat symptoms but to improve the patient experience as a whole. People living with rare or chronic illnesses deserve compassion and competent care, not disbelief. They deserve to feel seen. Every time I connect with a patient who feels hopeless or unheard, I see an opportunity to change the trajectory of their care. Sometimes that means catching a subtle clue in their presentation, and sometimes it simply means offering reassurance that someone believes them. Both can be life-changing. Sammy Hason faced his own rare condition with resilience and purpose, and that spirit deeply resonates with me. Like him, I have learned that adversity can be a teacher. Living with a rare disease has not stopped me from pursuing a demanding career in healthcare. It has strengthened my resolve to do it better. I want to be the nurse who sees what others miss, who advocates when others dismiss, and who continues to push for change even in the face of uncertainty. Through my work in emergency medicine and my personal experience with idiopathic intracranial hypertension, I have come to believe that the greatest impact we can make in healthcare starts with empathy. I cannot cure my disease, but I can use it to help others. I plan to spend the rest of my career doing exactly that, improving care for those who are too often overlooked, one patient at a time.

My path to nursing has been anything but conventional. I began college in 2007, but it would take sixteen years filled with single motherhood, full-time work, and personal challenges before I finally earned my RN in 2023. Along the way, I have worked as a paramedic, endured divorce and abusive relationships, rebuilt my life more than once, and learned the kind of perseverance that turns obstacles into fuel. For most of my adult life, I have been both a mother and a first responder. My EMS career began long before nursing school, and it taught me how to stay calm in chaos, think critically when seconds matter, and provide compassionate care to people in their most vulnerable moments. Working as a flight paramedic brought unique challenges. Every patient interaction happened in a high-stakes, resource-limited environment, often hundreds of feet in the air. My role demanded precision, teamwork, and the ability to make life-saving decisions quickly. When I was accepted into nursing school, I did not slow down. I worked full time while completing my degree, often pulling 24-hour shifts on the helicopter between classes and clinicals. I studied during downtime at the base, reviewed material after transporting critically ill patients, and walked into class after nights without sleep. It was exhausting, but my EMS background gave me both the knowledge and mental stamina to push forward. My personal life brought its own tests. As a single mother for many years, I learned to balance raising children with the relentless demands of a medical career. I have faced divorce and abusive relationships, rebuilding my sense of stability and security from the ground up. In 2021, I married my husband, whose support helped me cross the finish line of nursing school. However, my journey to that point was one I largely carried on my own. These experiences strengthened my resolve to create a better life for my family and deepened my commitment to caring for others with empathy and respect. The day I passed my boards in 2023, I was not just celebrating a credential. I was celebrating every sleepless night, every shift spent in the air, and every sacrifice made to reach that moment. Nursing is not simply a career choice for me. It is the culmination of years of grit, resilience, and purpose. Like Rose Browne, I have built my career while balancing the demands of family, full-time work, and higher education. This scholarship would not only honor her legacy but also help me continue my education so I can expand my role in patient care, mentor future nurses, and bring the unique perspective of both EMS and nursing into everything I do. My ambition is to serve with excellence, lead with compassion, and inspire others who may be walking their own long road toward their dreams.

I spent my childhood on the softball field. Some kids had summer vacations; I had doubleheaders, dirt-stained pants, and late-night batting practice under the lights. I wasn’t just a player—I was a competitor, a teammate, and a student of the game. I played nearly every position, but shortstop was my favorite. It’s where I felt most alive: in the middle of the action, thinking ahead, communicating, and leading by instinct. I also pitched when needed, stepping up when the pressure was high. That versatility and a fierce sense of responsibility became my superpower. Softball didn’t just shape who I was on the field—it built the foundation for who I am today: a registered nurse, a leader in emergency medicine, a lifelong learner, and a mother of five who never backs down from a challenge. Shortstop taught me to be alert, decisive, and calm under pressure—traits I now use daily in the trauma bay. Whether managing a code or coordinating care across multiple teams, I draw on the same mindset I used when a ball screamed off the bat and I had less than a second to react. Like a shortstop, a nurse must read the field, anticipate needs, and back up her team without hesitation. I see the ER like I saw the diamond: fast-paced, unpredictable, and full of opportunities to change someone’s outcome. On the field, I learned to lose with grace and win with humility. I knew that showing up—especially on the tough days—matters. I learned to push through discomfort, to lift my teammates, and to stay mentally sharp when everything felt like it was falling apart. These lessons followed me beyond the field. They showed up in 2007 when I began working as a CNA, caring for elderly patients. They guided me through EMS as I became an EMT in 2010, a paramedic in 2013, and a nurse in 2023. They were with me when I earned advanced certifications like FP-C and CFRN—not because they were required, but because my patients deserve someone who leads from the front and never stops improving. Softball gave me role models—coaches who believed in me, teammates who celebrated and grieved with me, and opponents who tested me. I carry those lessons forward as a nurse, mother, and future Family Nurse Practitioner with a focus on emergency medicine. I teach my children and coworkers the same values I learned at shortstop: lead with grit, stay ready, and never underestimate the impact of a well-timed assist. Like Brett Brakel, I believe in the power of mentorship, resilience, and education. I’m committed to using my story to inspire others, just as I was inspired by those who coached me through life, both on and off the field. Softball didn’t just make me a better player—it made me a better nurse, a stronger mother, and a more compassionate human. And I’ll keep carrying those values forward—wherever I’m needed most.

Dementia doesn’t just erase memory. It erases people—and their dignity—long before death ever does. My mission is to protect that dignity and ensure every patient is seen, heard, and valued. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. At 18, working as a CNA, I stood by patients who had no calls, no visits—forgotten because their minds changed. I quickly learned what many never do: dementia strips away everything, especially dignity, if we let it. But not on my watch. We—the staff—became their family. Remembered birthdays. Decorated rooms. Learned their language—even if it was a flicker of recognition or a song hummed off-key. And when they died, we wept. We were more than caregivers—we were their only family. That fire followed me into EMS. I’ve pulled dementia patients from sidewalks, dangerous situations, and homes where families were desperate, scared of behaviors they didn’t understand. People called them "combative" or "difficult," but they were terrified, trapped inside minds they couldn’t control. They weren’t violent. They were left alone. These patients are being failed. By systems. By stigma. By silence. For nearly two decades, I’ve stood between chaos and care—as a CNA, EMT, paramedic, and now a Registered Nurse with FP-C and CFRN certifications. I work in emergency departments and in the air with the sickest patients. I’m not done yet. Now that I am earning my BSN, I aim to be a Family Nurse Practitioner in emergency medicine—because we need FNPs who know dementia in real life, not just from textbooks. Dementia isn’t just quiet forgetfulness. It’s swinging fists, desperate eyes, and silence. Miss these signs, and you miss the person underneath. My passion for cognitive care is professional and personal. My grandmother doesn’t have dementia, but a traumatic brain injury from domestic violence changed her instantly. Once independent, she now has the mental capacity of a child. I’ve seen how quickly the world loses patience with those whose minds change. That will not be me. That will never be my practice. We need more nurses who’ve celebrated birthdays in dementia wards and cried in utility closets after losing patients the world forgot. We need providers who fight for the voiceless and treat every patient like they matter. Because they do. The Henry Respert Memorial Scholarship would do more than support my education—it would fuel my mission: to treat, teach, and change the system from within. It would honor every patient I have cared for and every story I carry with me. This is why I fight: to uphold their dignity, to change how systems see them, and to remind the world that every life—and every voice—matters.

"Pro-life" is more than a political slogan. As a nurse, mother, and woman with nearly two decades in healthcare, I see being pro-life as protecting lives in crisis, not controlling them. If we’re serious about life, we must anchor our beliefs in the four ethical principles of healthcare: beneficence, non-maleficence, justice, and autonomy. Without them, “pro-life” is nothing more than a hollow phrase. Beneficence means actively doing good. In nearly 20 years of emergency care—across ERs, ambulances, and hospital beds—I’ve celebrated healthy pregnancies and managed those that threatened a woman’s life. I’ve cared for teenagers terrified to tell their parents and mothers with no money to feed another child. Forcing someone to continue a pregnancy without access to healthcare, housing, or support is not doing good—it’s cruelty disguised as conviction. Non-maleficence demands that we do no harm. But banning abortion causes measurable, lasting harm. The Turnaway Study found that women denied abortions were more likely to experience chronic pain, anxiety, poverty, and partner violence. They were also more likely to stay tethered to abusive relationships and less likely to achieve long-term goals like education and financial independence. Meanwhile, a 2023 study published in JAMA showed that states with abortion bans saw a 3x higher increase in maternal deaths, especially among women with pre-existing health conditions. Let’s not forget the medical cases that demand swift, compassionate action. According to the Kaiser Family Foundation, 7% of abortions in the U.S. are performed for medical reasons, including severe fetal anomalies and conditions like preeclampsia, cancer, or ectopic pregnancy. Denying care in these scenarios isn’t pro-life—it’s a violation of medical ethics. Justice means equity in care. It’s not justice if only the wealthy have access to safe options. One in three reproductive-age women now lives in a state where abortion is banned or severely restricted. These bans disproportionately harm poor and rural communities—places like the one I was raised in, where support systems are thin and options are few. Black women in the U.S. are three times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than white women. What kind of pro-life system accepts that as collateral? And then there’s autonomy—the ethical principle most often ignored in these debates. You cannot claim to value life while denying someone the right to make decisions about their own body. Autonomy is not a loophole—it is the foundation of ethical, patient-centered care. I trust women. I trust their capacity to make difficult decisions with courage and love, especially when no perfect option exists. I’ve administered Plan B. I’ve explained all the options without bias. I’ve stayed past shift change to secure a ride home, connect a patient with a shelter, or get them food before discharge. I’m earning my BSN and working toward becoming a Family Nurse Practitioner specializing in emergency medicine, where life often comes down to seconds and ethics matter more than ever. I will never stop fighting for life through action, not dogma. Being pro-life means showing up for all of it—not just the flicker on an ultrasound, but for the mother with no support, the rape survivor with a positive pregnancy test, the woman facing medical catastrophe, and the patients who are already here, already struggling, already alive. That’s what it means to be pro-life. Anything less is just control.

From the moment I became a CNA in 2007, I knew I had found my purpose—serving people during their most vulnerable moments. My journey in healthcare has grown from emergency medical services into registered nursing. With each new role, I have become more dedicated to helping my community. I am committed to using my experience, education, and compassion to make a lasting difference for those I serve. I grew up poor in rural Kentucky on a small dairy and tobacco farm, where life taught me resilience and the value of community support. That spirit of helping others defines my approach to emergency care. In 2010, I became an EMT and advanced to a paramedic by 2013. I’ve since worked on the front lines, stabilizing critical patients in unpredictable environments. Earning FP-C and CFRN certifications, I advanced to flight paramedic and now flight nurse—always striving to give my patients the best chance possible. I officially became a registered nurse in 2023 and am now pursuing my BSN, building on over fifteen years of direct, hands-on experience in diverse emergency settings. This multi-disciplinary background—rare among nurses—provides me with a unique perspective and skill set. I plan to advance to my MSN and become a Family Nurse Practitioner, focusing on serving in emergency and rural settings—places where access to quality care is limited, but where my specialized background can make a significant difference. The deeper I go into this field, the more I realize that my work is about more than medical interventions—it's about being a steady, skilled presence in someone’s worst moment and helping them find hope through it. I’m also a mother to five children. I want them to grow up knowing that making a difference doesn’t require fame or fortune—just courage, compassion, and commitment. That’s the legacy I want to pass on to them, and the standard I strive to uphold in my work and community. My EMS and nursing experiences taught me that every call and patient matters. I’ve encountered a range of emergencies and moments of service that continue to drive my growth and commitment. The Stevens Family Scholarship would make a direct and meaningful impact on my journey by alleviating financial burdens, allowing me to dedicate more focus to my BSN studies and maintain my commitment to serving patients in emergency care. This support would ensure that I can continue my education without compromising the quality of care I provide on the front lines, ultimately enabling me to expand my skills and serve even more effectively in rural and emergency settings. Thank you for considering my application. I look forward to continuing to serve my community and making a meaningful impact in emergency care.

Nursing has always drawn me, even if I didn’t see it as a career at first. Growing up poor on a dairy farm in rural Kentucky meant hard work, resourcefulness, and close community ties. Those years shaped me into the nurse I strive to be: dependable, compassionate, and resilient. I began my journey in healthcare in 2007 as a certified nursing assistant. I was young and unsure of myself, but something about caring for people in their most vulnerable moments felt deeply right. Over time, my confidence and skill grew. I became an EMT in 2010 and a paramedic in 2013. Working in emergency medicine taught me the value of staying calm under pressure, thinking critically, and treating every patient with dignity, no matter the situation. I learned that saving a life doesn’t always happen in dramatic fashion—sometimes it’s just about listening, holding someone’s hand, or advocating for them when no one else will. Even with years of experience, I still wanted to do more. In 2023, I became a registered nurse and am currently pursuing my Bachelor of Science in Nursing. Earning my RN wasn’t just a career milestone; it was a personal victory. I worked full-time while going to school and raising five children. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth every sacrifice. My goal is to become a family nurse practitioner, continuing to serve rural and underserved communities. In the future, I plan to expand access to care, build community health initiatives, and mentor the next generation of healthcare providers from backgrounds like mine. I want to be the kind of nurse who makes people feel safe, seen, and supported—especially those who are often overlooked. Education has always been important to me, and I’m committed to lifelong learning. I’ve earned both the Flight Paramedic-Certified (FP-C) and Certified Flight Registered Nurse (CFRN) credentials. These advanced certifications have enabled me to deliver critical care in high-acuity situations, frequently in transport or remote environments. I’ve also taken on the role of EMS educator, teaching classes and helping new providers gain confidence in their skills. Sharing knowledge is one of the most rewarding parts of my work. In addition to my professional experience, I’ve been fortunate to have meaningful volunteer opportunities along the way. As a teenager, I served as a 4-H teen leader, helping younger members grow their confidence and abilities. During nursing school, I volunteered through class activities by visiting programs for individuals with special needs. These visits were eye-opening and humbling. They reminded me that nursing isn’t just about clinical knowledge—it’s about presence, patience, and genuine human connection. My journey hasn’t been typical or easy, but it’s been deeply fulfilling. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished, and I know I’m not finished yet. I still have a great deal to offer, and I intend to continue learning and growing in this field for the remainder of my life. Sara Jane’s legacy speaks to the very heart of why I chose nursing. Her compassion, her dedication, and her support for others mirror the values I strive to uphold every day. Receiving this scholarship would not only help me continue my education but also empower me to make a lasting impact by advancing healthcare services, mentoring students, and embodying Sara Jane’s spirit in my work. I am honored to apply, knowing I will pay this opportunity forward in countless ways.

I didn’t grow up thinking I’d become a nurse. I grew up on a dairy farm in rural Kentucky, where my family also raised tobacco. We didn’t have much, but we had grit. I learned early what hard work looked like—hauling feed before school, staying up late to help with barn chores, and watching my parents stretch every dollar. That upbringing shaped me. It gave me determination, resilience, and the belief that no one was coming to hand me anything—I’d have to earn it. That same mindset has carried me through my career in healthcare. I started as a CNA in 2007, working long shifts and learning the true meaning of compassion. I became an EMT in 2010 and a paramedic in 2013, answering calls in the middle of the night, treating trauma on the side of highways, and supporting people through the worst days of their lives. But I knew I wasn’t finished. In 2023, I became a registered nurse, and now I’m pursuing my BSN, determined to take my career even further. I’ve built my career step by step, while raising five kids and continuing to work in emergency and flight medicine. I hold advanced certifications, such as FP-C and CFRN, because I never want to stop growing. I believe in pushing the limits of what I can learn, how I can serve, and the difference I can make. The inspiration to pursue nursing came from two places: the people I’ve cared for, and the people who believed in me. I’ve worked in emergency medicine long enough to know that people don’t always remember your title—they remember how you made them feel. I’ve sat beside patients on the brink, held their hands in the chaos, and seen how dignity and empathy can calm even the stormiest moments. That’s what fuels me. I want to be the nurse who brings not just skill, but presence. At the same time, I’ve had mentors who pulled me forward when I doubted myself. Nurses who took the time to teach. Medics who pushed me to aim higher. Now, I’m becoming that kind of mentor—teaching courses, guiding new providers, and showing others that you don’t have to come from privilege to make a powerful impact. Nursing isn’t just a job for me—it’s a mission. I’m building a legacy for my children, my community, and every patient I serve. I welcome challenges, because on the other side is growth, and nurses are the changemakers this world needs. Receiving this scholarship would alleviate a significant financial burden, enabling me to focus fully on my studies, advance my nursing education, and continue serving my community. It will help me build the skills and knowledge I need to make a bigger impact, both for my patients and as a role model for my children. I found this scholarship through bold.org.

Nursing, for me, is not just a profession—it is my lifelong calling and purpose. My primary mission is to deliver compassionate care and advocate for those who are most in need, drawing on my own life experiences, perseverance, and commitment to service. My healthcare journey began in 2007 as a Certified Nursing Assistant. As a young mother, I juggled raising children with caring for patients, learning daily how sacred human connection is. That experience planted a seed that has shaped my every chapter since. Building on those early experiences, I became an EMT in 2010 and a paramedic in 2013. Prehospital medicine taught me to think critically, act quickly, and offer compassion in times of crisis. I worked on the front lines with trauma and medical emergencies, later moving into flight medicine and emergency nursing. Earning FP-C and CFRN deepened my skills. In 2023, I became a Registered Nurse and am now pursuing my Bachelor of Science in Nursing, as learning never stops when your mission is to care. Alongside my professional growth, my personal journey influences my perspective. I am a white woman and a mother of five, raising my children in a rural community in Kentucky. While I may not meet the traditional definition of an underrepresented minority, I serve populations who do. Many of my patients face poverty, food insecurity, and healthcare inequities. I have seen how cultural misunderstandings, implicit bias, and limited access to care affect outcomes. These experiences have shaped me into a nurse advocate. I am someone who not only delivers care but also works to change the system for the better. These intertwined personal and professional experiences reinforce what draws me most to nursing: its unique blend of science, heart, and humanity. Nurses are the interpreters between diagnosis and dignity, between protocol and person. We are educators, protectors, and sometimes simply witnesses to pain that cannot be fixed but must be honored. I have cradled infants in flight, stabilized trauma patients in fields, and comforted grieving spouses in fluorescent-lit emergency rooms. I have also come home to make dinner, help with homework, and tuck my children into bed before going back out to serve. Every moment has taught me what it truly means to care. My commitment is further inspired by Eric Maurice Brandon’s legacy. His life as a military nurse, respiratory therapy technician, and caregiver for children with tracheostomies reflects the values I hold sacred: dedication, versatility, courage, and compassion. Like Eric, I have left my children behind at night to care for someone else’s, hoping to make a difference even in the dark. I am honored to carry forward the torch of service he lit so brightly. With Eric’s example in mind, receiving this scholarship would not just support my education. It would enable me to have a deeper impact. I plan to continue advancing in trauma and critical care, with the ultimate goal of becoming a Family Nurse Practitioner. I want to expand access to high-quality, culturally competent care in rural and underserved areas. I want to be the voice in the room that says, “We can do better for this patient,” and then ensures that we do. In summary, I am not finished growing, learning, or serving. Nursing has given me purpose, perspective, and a sense of power. With your support, I will continue to carry that forward in honor of Eric, in service to others, and in pursuit of a better, more compassionate world.