When my dad opened his restaurant, it was a dream that finally fell into place. He has worked with food and restaurants almost his entire life. He’s worked both front of house and back of house, and even has worked in a butcher shop. As soon as I was old enough to start working, I joined him in the restaurant business. A couple years ago, my father found an opportunity to buy and create his own restaurant. An undocumented Mexican immigrant, he has spent most of his life working long hours and low-paying jobs. I was happy to celebrate him and assist in creating a vision, bringing it to life in the form of logos, menus, and service. I was proud to stand beside him, working as a waitress while attending school full-time. From the beginning, the restaurant became a cherished part of our small town. Leaving the front window blinds open while renovating, we gave the community an ongoing glimpse of the work that we were putting in to the restaurant. When we finally opened, the community embraced the delicious food and the warm, personal touch my dad poured into every interaction. We created something special together. Yet, we faced the harsh realities that small family-owned businesses often encounter. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, over 21% of small businesses fail in their first year. Close to 50% fail by year five. It’s like success is just a flip of a coin. This was especially true as an immigrant family without access to business loans, savings, or financial safety nets. In my experience as a waitress, many customers would tell me that they would much rather support a small business than a corporate chain. We quickly grew regulars. I also came to learn that even community support often isn’t enough to sustain a business when you’re constantly paying bills at work and home. The financial pressure became overwhelming. Early one morning, we were awakened by loud knocks at the front door of our home. We were served an eviction notice. That moment was devastating, and it was hard to manage when I was counting the nights we had left in our home. With the help of emergency services, we managed to keep our home, but my father was forced to close the restaurant. The last night we were open, I saw a light dim in his eyes, like a flame burning out. Our town lost a place they had come to love, and so did my dad. Though painful, this experience has shaped me into who I am today. It taught me resilience, like how to stand tall in the face of adversity. It taught me responsibility. I balanced school, work, and financial pressures while achieving academic goals. If I could change the restaurant industry, I would advocate for stronger support systems for small, family-run businesses. Financial literacy education could provided at the local community college. This could be designed specifically for first-time business owners. This would give a better gauge of the journey that is a small business to those interested. I love serving people, and I hope to eventually give back to others who are still fighting to achieve their dreams. By awarding me this scholarship, I wouldn’t have to abandon my dream of achieving a higher education, and being the first in my family to do so. Living this dream would prove to my family that anyone can achieve anything, no matter what struggles they have faced in the past, what struggles they are currently facing, and what unknown struggles lie ahead.

I was born in Ohio to undocumented Mexican parents, but I spent most of my childhood in Mexico. There, poverty wasn’t just visible, but it was our reality. My dad grew up in a clay house with dirt floors and dropped out of school at 16 to help his family survive. My mom never finished high school either. They made it further through school than their parents though. My grandmother didn’t even finish the second grade. Education was never guaranteed for us. It was something that belonged to other people. Education came second, survival came first. However, I’ve always dreamed of changing that, for myself and for those around me. I want to prove that me, and others like me, deserve more than just survival. When I moved back to the U.S. at 14 to start high school, I didn’t speak a word of English. I arrived in a small, predominantly white town where I felt completely out of place. On that very first day, I also started working at a restaurant to help support my household. It was just me and my dad. He’s always been a hard worker, doing whatever it takes to keep more than only the two of us afloat, but other family members back in Mexico too. Hrs does this every day, even when options were limited because of his immigration status. Last year, he took a leap of faith and opened his own restaurant. It had always been his dream, and I was proud to help him bring it to life. I helped him design the logo to bring his vision to life. I worked as a waitress after school, during holiday breaks and on weekends. He was there open to close, every day. The community loved it. People came in not just for the food, but for the warmth and charm of the place. I was amazed that even during the off-season, the restaurant would be packed with happy customers.But dreams don’t always survive on love and happiness alone. Financially, we couldn’t keep up. While the business was steady, the money we made wasn’t enough to pay the rent all the bills, at the restaurant and at home. Eventually, the county sheriff’s office served us with an eviction notice. We were devastated and scared. I started texting friends to make a plan to prevent me from becoming homeless, asking if I could stay with them. We turned to local emergency services for help, which got us through the worst of it. But the cost of chasing that dream was steep. My dad had to give up his dream, and our town lost a place they had grown to love. It was a painful reminder that hard work alone doesn’t guarantee stability when you don’t have a financial safety net. Despite that hardship, I kept going. I worked long hours, kept up with my classes, and slowly started building confidence in a language and culture that once felt foreign. I joined the varsity soccer team and eventually became team captain. I earned a plaque this year for Top Scorer on the team. I served as student body vice president both junior and senior year, and was inducted into the National Technical Honor Society as a junior. I earned a place on the A/B honor roll, all while helping keep our home running. Getting accepted into college was one of the biggest accomplishments of my life. But now I face another challenge: finding a way to pay for it. My family cannot support me financially. Without scholarships like this one, I won’t be able to afford to attend. That’s a terrifying thought, but also one that motivates me to keep applying, writing, and fighting for my education. I plan to major in biology because science has always fascinated me. Even during the most chaotic parts of my life, biology has given me structure and answers. I’m especially interested in public health and how science can be used to improve the lives of people in low-income and underserved communities, people like my family. I want to research topics like disease prevention, water quality, and the environmental factors that affect health outcomes. I want to make sure people aren’t forgotten just because they live in the wrong ZIP code or speak the wrong language. I don’t only want to make a difference through science. I want to go back into schools like mine and help students who feel like they don’t belong in STEM. As a Mexican, first-generation female student, I have felt invisible in academic spaces. I want to be the kind of role model who says, “You belong here, too.” Adversity has shaped me, but it hasn’t defined me. It’s made me more determined to succeed not only for myself, but for my father, my community, and every student who feels like college and science are out of reach. I’ve seen dreams be taken away because of financial hardship. I want my story to be different. I want to chase my dream all the way, and use it to help others hold on to theirs. With the support of the Eric W. Larson Memorial STEM Scholarship, I can continue forward with hope, and with the resources to turn that hope into impact.

Education is more than a pathway to a career. It’s a lifeline that has kept me grounded, hopeful, and determined. As a 17-year-old first-generation college student, I see education not as something I am entitled to, but as something I’ve fought for every single day. I was born in Ohio to undocumented Mexican parents who came to the U.S. in search of a better life. But we couldn’t stay for long. I grew up mostly in Mexico, where my parents were raised in poverty. Poverty like clay homes with dirt floors, working instead of learning. My dad had to drop out of school at 16, the highest level of education anyone in my family has reached. My mom never got that far. Coming from this background, education has always been a dream that felt just out of reach. But I made it my mission to change that. When I moved back to the U.S. during my freshman year of high school, I didn’t know a single word of English. I was placed in ESL classes and felt lost in a predominantly white school. I started working at a restaurant on my very first day here, juggling school, a new language, and the pressures of being a support system for my family. It wasn’t easy. Yet, every moment I felt like giving up, I reminded myself that I wasn’t just doing this for me. I was doing this for my parents, my younger siblings, and the generations that come after me. Today, I’m proud to say I accomplished more than I thought I could in high school. I was on the A/B honor roll, student body vice president, a four-year varsity soccer player and senior-year captain, and a member of the National Technical Honor Society. I’ve worked hard to become someone my community can be proud of. I plan to major in biology and pursue graduate school in the future. Science excites me because it is not about what it can do in the lab, but for how it can impact lives, especially in communities like mine that are often underserved and overlooked. The truth is, I want to go to college more than anything, but if I can’t afford to go, I won’t be able to. My family cannot support me financially, and I’m relying on scholarships like this one to make my education possible. I don’t want money to be the reason I stop here. I’ve made it this far through persistence, hard work, and faith. All I need now is the opportunity. My dream is to become a scientist and use my education to give back. I want to conduct research that addresses real-world problems and mentor students who feel like outsiders in academic spaces. I want to walk into classrooms where students feel unseen and tell them, “You belong here.” The legacy I hope to leave is one of possibility. I want to show that being a first-generation Latina from a low-income background doesn’t have to limit your future, but it can empower it. I want my story to inspire other students who were told they weren’t good enough, smart enough, or wealthy enough, because I’ve been all three. But I’m still here, still moving forward, and still chasing what once felt impossible. Education has given me a voice. It’s helped me find purpose in the middle of struggle. And with it, I hope to build a legacy that says, “She didn’t just break barriers, she held the door open for others to walk through.”

Being the first in my family to earn a college degree means rewriting what’s possible. This rewriting isn’t just for me, but for everyone who comes after me. It would make working hard actually feeling like it was going to pay off. My parents, both undocumented, didn’t get the chance to finish school. My dad dropped out at 16 to support his family. My grandmother only went through the second grade. Education wasn’t something we were given. It has been something I’ve had to fight for. To graduate from college would mean honoring their sacrifices and proving that where you start doesn’t determine where you finish. I want to study biology in college. I’ve always been fascinated by how living systems work, and how small changes can affect the bigger picture. More than that though, I want to use what I learn to help people. I’m especially passionate about mental health and public health, because I’ve seen how lack of access to care has impacted my family. My parents’ mental health struggles have shaped my entire life, and I want to be part of the solution for families like mine. In the long term, I might want to pursue a career in healthcare or public health, possibly even go to graduate school. I hope to bring resources, education, and compassion to underserved communities, especially immigrants and low-income families who are often left behind. I also want to be a mentor to other first-generation students, to show them that it’s possible to dream bigger than your circumstances. I am leaving my dreams open, as I have been given more opportunities that anyone in my family ever has. Since the day I arrived in the U.S. at 14 with just the clothes I was wearing and speaking very little English, I’ve worked in a restaurant to help my family, all while staying committed to school. I had to make a choice to adjust quickly if I was going to succeed. With the help and encouragement of a girl I met at school who is now my best friend, I’ve served as student body vice president, captained the varsity soccer team earning a plaque for top scorer this year, and stayed active in my school community. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, and even more excited for where I’m going. This scholarship would help me keep pushing forward, not only as the first in my family, but as a leader for those who follow.

My name is Rosalinda Gonzalez, and I’ve learned that dreams don’t always start with comfort, they start with determination. I’m Mexican, born in Ohio to undocumented parents. I’ve lived in a single-parent household my entire life, constantly moving between my mom in Mexico and my dad in the U.S. We’ve never had much, but we’ve always had each other. When I moved in with my dad at 14, I started working in a restaurant to help support our household. Later, he chased his dream and opened his own restaurant. I was proud of him, serving the community with great food and love. But this dream didn’t pay the bills. We were served with loud knocks and an eviction notice early morning, right before I went to school. We had 30 days to go to court and pay more money owed, or be homeless. I started texting my friends asking if their parents would let me live with them. It was terrifying, like the ground disappeared beneath me. I thought we were about to lose everything. We were eligible for emergency services and were able to keep our home. My dad had to quit the restaurant to go to a steady-paying job. Watching him let go of something he loved was hard. It showed me how real the gap is between ambition and access. My dream is to study biology, go into public health or research, and use my story to help people like us. I’ve led as student body vice president, served my soccer team as captain and top scorer, joined Spanish Club, and worked every week to help at home. I’ve seen struggle, but I’ve also seen purpose. This scholarship wouldn’t just help me pay for college, it would help me keep my family’s dream alive through me.

My name is Rosalinda Gonzalez, and I’m a 17-year-old girl who has learned what it means to grow up fast. I was born in Ohio to undocumented parents, and I am 100 percent Mexican. I’ve always lived in a single-parent, low-income household, moving between my mom in Mexico and my dad in the United States. When I came to live with my dad permanently at age 14, I started working in a restaurant right away to help us get by. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it’s taught me to work hard, stay focused, and never give up on the future I want to build. Last year, my dad took a big risk. He decided to buy and run his own restaurant. This is a dream he’d been holding onto for years. He finally found an opportunity to pursue that dream, and he took it. I was proud of him for trying, and I helped however I could, specifically waiting tables at the restaurant when I wasn’t it school. While it seemed like I was there all day, he was there even longer. The community loved the food and the welcoming atmosphere. People would stop in not just to eat, but to talk and laugh. It felt like we were building something special. But dreams don’t always pay the bills. Less than a year later, my dad had to sell the restaurant. We simply weren’t being supported enough financially, and we couldn’t afford to keep it going. Watching him give up his dream was heartbreaking, and it reminded me how money can get in the way of passion, even when you’re doing everything right. That experience made my goals even clearer. I want to go to college, study biology, and use my education to give back to communities like mine - people who work hard, have big dreams, but don’t always have the support or access to succeed. I’m especially passionate about mental health, because both of my parents have struggled with it. Their challenges affected every part of our life: work, housing, and relationships. We were even served an eviction notice once. That moment was terrifying, but we came together and found a way to stay. I realized how deeply mental health and financial stability are connected, and how much help families like mine truly need. Despite everything, I’ve stayed committed to my education and school activities. I’ve worked nearly every day after school, but I’ve also been a four-year varsity soccer player, team captain, and top scorer my senior year. I served as student body vice president two years in a row, joined Spanish Club and the National Technical Honor Society, and took art classes to express myself when words weren’t enough. All of these experiences have made me who I am: someone who’s proud of her culture, someone who understands struggle, and someone who still believes in what’s possible. This scholarship would help relieve the financial stress that’s always been part of my life. It would let me focus on my goals and continue on the path my dad once hoped to walk himself. I will not opening a restaurant, but rather build something lasting and meaningful through education, service, and care. I do not just want to succeed, I want to help others do the same. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Breaking Cycles, Building Futures: My Vision Beyond a College Degree For me, graduating with a college degree is more than an academic goal. It’s a personal victory and a symbol of everything I’ve worked for. It means breaking generational barriers, proving to myself and my family that our struggles were not in vain, and opening doors that have always felt locked for people like us. As a first-generation college student, 100% Mexican, and the daughter of undocumented parents, I carry with me the weight of my family’s sacrifices and the hope of our future. My goal is to turn that weight into something powerful, like an education, a career, and a meaningful impact on the world around me. My college journey will begin with a degree in biology. I’ve always been fascinated by how living systems function, how each part works together to create something greater, and how small changes can create powerful effects, just like in life. Science makes me feel grounded and inspired. But my interest in biology isn’t only about what happens in the classroom; it’s about how I can use it to help people in real life. I want to pursue a career in healthcare or public health, where I can directly serve underserved communities like the one I come from. Eventually, I plan to go beyond an undergraduate degree and pursue graduate school. I want to continue learning, expanding my expertise, and developing the tools I need to make a substantial impact. Whether I use that knowledge in a research lab, a community clinic, or as part of a nonprofit focused on social issues, my goal remains the same: to give back to the community that shaped me. I want to be part of real solutions, through science, education, and advocacy. Mental health, in particular, is an area I care deeply about. Both of my parents have struggled with mental illness, and it has shaped much of my life. Their untreated conditions made it difficult for them to hold steady jobs, maintain routines, or provide the stability every child deserves. I’ve experienced the financial and emotional toll this takes firsthand. We’ve faced job loss, food insecurity, and even received an eviction notice. That moment, seeing the real possibility of losing our home, was terrifying. But it also opened my eyes to how deeply mental health and economic stability are connected. It made me realize how many families are suffering in silence, and it motivated me to do something about it. My dream is to become someone who helps families before they reach that breaking point. Whether it’s through direct patient care, public education, or advocating for mental health resources in marginalized communities, I want to use my future career to build bridges between science, care, and accessibility. I want to show people, especially immigrants, low-income families, and those in minority communities, that help is out there, and that their lives matter. I believe I can make a meaningful impact, but I also understand how expensive and overwhelming college can be, especially without financial support. Since arriving in the United States at age 14, I’ve worked in a restaurant to help support my family. Balancing work, school, and home responsibilities hasn’t been easy, but it’s taught me resilience, time management, and how to stay committed even when things are hard. I’ve never had the luxury of focusing only on school but I’ve never let that stop me either. I’ve stayed on the A/B honor roll and made the most of every opportunity I’ve had. At school, I’ve been heavily involved in leadership and extracurricular activities. I’ve served as student body vice president for both my junior and senior years, which gave me the chance to lead, organize, and advocate for my classmates. I’ve played varsity soccer all four years and served as team captain my senior year, earning a plaque for being our top scorer. Being part of a team taught me discipline, communication, and how to lead by example. I’ve also been active in Spanish Club for two years, took art classes to express myself creatively, and joined the National Technical Honor Society to connect with like-minded, motivated peers. These experiences have helped me grow as a leader and given me a strong voice that I now use to raise awareness around issues I care about—especially mental health. I’ve made it a personal mission to learn about signs, symptoms, and resources, so I can better support others and reduce stigma. In immigrant families like mine, mental illness is often misunderstood or ignored. It’s not something we talk about. But I’m starting those conversations - with my friends, in my home, and within my school community - because I believe change starts with honesty and empathy. This scholarship would change everything for me. It would relieve a major financial burden and allow me to fully focus on my education without the constant stress of how to afford tuition, books, housing, and daily expenses. More importantly, it would help me keep momentum toward my long-term goals. I want to complete my undergraduate degree in biology, gain experience in healthcare or research, and maybe eventually pursue a master’s or doctoral degree in a health-related or scientific field. I don’t just want a job. I want a purpose-driven career that allows me to give back and uplift others. Beyond academics and a future career, I have a larger vision for how I want to impact the world. I want to advocate for better mental health education in schools, work with clinics to expand outreach in underserved neighborhoods, and help shift the narrative around what it means to ask for help. I want to create spaces where people feel seen, heard, and supported, especially those who have grown up like me, caught between survival and hope. This scholarship would not just support me financially, it would be an investment in someone who is ready to work, lead, and give back. I bring more than just strong grades or leadership roles. I bring perspective, lived experience, and deep commitment to helping others. I’ve seen what happens when people are forgotten, and I refuse to be someone who turns away from that. In the future, I hope to create programs that combine biology, research, and social impact, whether through addressing public health crises, expanding mental health services, or mentoring younger students who need someone to believe in them. I want to show others that you don’t have to come from privilege to create positive change. Graduating from college is my next step, but my mission goes far beyond that. I’m working toward a life where I can make a difference. With your help, I can get there. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Being 100% Mexican, born in Ohio to undocumented parents, and raised in a single-parent, low-income home has shaped how I see the world and my place in it. My identity has taught me to be proud of where I come from, even when life has been tough. I’ve learned to stay strong, work hard, and not give up, especially when things feel unfair. Growing up, I moved between my mom in Mexico and my dad in the U.S. I’ve seen how mental health struggles, financial stress, and immigration issues can make everyday life so much harder. When we were almost evicted from our home, I realized just how much pressure I carry. Since moving to the U.S. at 14, I’ve worked at a restaurant to help support my family. At school, I found ways to grow and lead. I played varsity soccer all four years, became team captain, and earned a top scorer award. I also served as student body vice president for two years and joined Spanish Club and the National Technical Honor Society. These experiences helped me find my voice. My identity has made me strong and determined. I plan to study biology in college so I can help people in communities like mine. I’ve been through a lot, but I know who I am, and I want to use that to make a difference.

Turning Struggle into Purpose Coming from a single-parent, low-income household has shaped who I am. I was born in Ohio to undocumented parents and am 100% Mexican. I’ve lived between my mom in Mexico and my dad in the U.S., both of whom have struggled with mental health issues. Their instability made it difficult to maintain steady work or provide financial security, which meant I had to grow up fast and contribute to my household. Since I was 14 (the day I arrived in the U.S.) I’ve worked in a restaurant to help support my family. At one point, we were served with an eviction notice, and I had to step up financially while still focusing on school. That moment taught me that perseverance is not about avoiding struggle. It’s about moving forward anyway. Despite these challenges, I’ve stayed committed to my goals. I’ve been on the varsity soccer team all four years, serving as captain and earning a top scorer plaque my senior year. I served as student body vice president for two years, participated in the Spanish Club, National Technical Honor Society, and took art classes to express myself. These activities helped me grow as a leader and remain connected to my community. I plan to study biology in college and pursue a career in healthcare or public health to serve communities like mine. I’ve also taken steps to learn about mental health so I can start conversations and reduce stigma, especially in immigrant families. My life experiences have given me resilience, empathy, and purpose. I’m not just surviving. I’m preparing to make a difference.

My name is Rosalinda Gonzalez. I am a proud female student, 100 percent Mexican, born in Ohio to undocumented parents. I aspire to study biology at UNC Charlotte. My early life was shaped by hardship and resilience. Though I was born in the United States, I spent most of my childhood living in Mexico until my freshman year of high school. My parents grew up in extreme poverty, literally in clay houses with dirt floors and no beds. Despite having few opportunities, they never stopped dreaming of a better future for me. Their sacrifices have fueled my drive to pursue a career in science. When I returned to the U.S. as a teenager, I faced a new set of challenges. I arrived speaking only Spanish and enrolled in a predominantly white high school where I knew no one. The language barrier made learning difficult, and I often felt out of place. But I worked hard, pushing through fear and discomfort, and slowly began to thrive. These experiences taught me independence, determination, and the importance of creating opportunities for myself, even when none seem to exist. I’ve chosen to study biology because I’m fascinated by how life works, especially the human body. I want to understand the science behind health and disease, and use that knowledge to contribute to public health research. My short-term goal is to earn a biology degree and gain experience through lab work and internships. Long-term, I plan to enter a graduate program focused on biomedical science or public health. I want to be part of groundbreaking research that helps reduce health disparities in underserved communities. But the path to a professional program in STEM is expensive. Admissions exams like the MCAT, study materials, and application fees can total thousands of dollars. As someone from a low-income, undocumented family, these expenses are daunting. While I’ve learned how to be resourceful, balancing school, work, and saving for future costs is exhausting. Financial limitations shouldn’t determine the reach of someone’s dreams, but they often do. Receiving this scholarship would lift a significant financial burden. It would allow me to pay for study materials, testing fees, and applications without sacrificing my academic progress or well-being. It would give me the space to stay focused on school, research, and preparing for my future without being overwhelmed by financial stress. This support would bring me one step closer to becoming a scientist who makes a difference. One of my greatest goals is to give back. I want to use my education and success to support others like me - first-generation students, immigrants, and young women in STEM. I plan to mentor and advocate for better access to science programs for underrepresented students. Representation matters. I want to show young Latina girls that they belong in labs, in science, and in leadership. My journey has been shaped by hardship, hope, and heart. As a Mexican American woman in STEM, I know the power of resilience and the importance of opportunity. This scholarship would not only help me overcome the barriers in front of me. It would strengthen my ability to lift others up as I climb. Thank you for considering my application and supporting students who carry not just dreams, but the responsibility to create change.

STEM Scholarship Essay: Overcoming Barriers and Giving Back My name is Rosalinda Gonzalez. I am a proud female STEM student, 100 percent Mexican, born in Ohio to undocumented parents. My early life was shaped by hardship and resilience. Though I was born in the United States, I spent most of my childhood living in Mexico until my freshman year of high school. My parents grew up in extreme poverty, literally in clay houses with dirt floors and no beds. Despite having few opportunities, they never stopped dreaming of a better future for me. Their sacrifices have fueled my drive to pursue a career in science. When I returned to the U.S. as a teenager, I faced a new set of challenges. I arrived speaking only Spanish and enrolled in a predominantly white high school where I knew no one. The language barrier made learning difficult, and I often felt out of place. But I worked hard, pushing through fear and discomfort, and slowly began to thrive. These experiences taught me independence, determination, and the importance of creating opportunities for myself, even when none seem to exist. I’ve chosen to study biology because I’m fascinated by how life works, especially the human body. I want to understand the science behind health and disease, and use that knowledge to contribute to public health research. My short-term goal is to earn a biology degree and gain experience through lab work and internships. Long-term, I plan to enter a graduate program focused on biomedical science or public health. I want to be part of groundbreaking research that helps reduce health disparities in underserved communities. But, the path to a professional program in STEM is expensive. Admissions exams like the MCAT, study materials, and application fees can total thousands of dollars. As someone from a low-income, undocumented family, these expenses are daunting. While I’ve learned how to be resourceful, balancing school, work, and saving for future costs is exhausting. Financial limitations shouldn’t determine the reach of someone’s dreams, but they often do. Receiving this scholarship would lift a significant financial burden. It would allow me to pay for study materials, testing fees, and applications without sacrificing my academic progress or well-being. It would give me the space to stay focused on school, research, and preparing for my future without being overwhelmed by financial stress. This support would bring me one step closer to becoming a scientist who makes a difference. One of my greatest goals is to give back. I want to use my education and success to support others like me - first-generation students, immigrants, and young women in STEM. I plan to mentor and advocate for better access to science programs for underrepresented students. Representation matters. I want to show young Latina girls that they belong in labs, in science, and in leadership. My journey has been shaped by hardship, hope, and heart. As a Mexican American woman in STEM, I know the power of resilience and the importance of opportunity. This scholarship would not only help me overcome the barriers in front of me. It would strengthen my ability to lift others up as I climb. Thank you for considering my application and supporting students who carry not just dreams, but the responsibility to create change.

I have chosen to study biology because I am passionate about understanding how life works, especially within the human body. From a young age, I’ve been fascinated by the way cells, organs, and systems interact. I’m especially interested in how small changes, like genetic mutations or hormonal imbalances, can lead to serious health conditions. This curiosity has developed into a strong desire to contribute to the field of medical science through research, discovery, and innovation. My short-term goal is to earn a degree in biology and gain hands-on experience in laboratory research during my undergraduate years. I hope to participate in internships and research projects focused on human health, genetics, or biotechnology. Long-term, I aspire to work in a research setting, possibly in a medical lab or at a university, where I can contribute to the development of new treatments or preventive care methods for chronic illnesses. I also want to mentor other students, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds like mine, and help them succeed in STEM fields. Being a Mexican American and a first-generation college student in a field where minorities are still underrepresented shapes my goals in powerful ways. I often don’t see people who look like me in science-related spaces. While that can be intimidating, it also motivates me. I want to be part of changing that narrative, showing other Hispanic students that they belong in science and can thrive here. I believe diverse voices and experiences are essential to solving global health problems. My background allows me to bring a unique perspective to scientific questions, especially when addressing health disparities in underserved communities. Financially, college is a significant challenge. My parents both came from poverty in rural Mexico, growing up in homes made of clay with dirt floors and little access to education. They have always encouraged me to pursue my dreams, even when resources were limited. The SigaLa Education Scholarship would relieve some of the financial burden and allow me to focus more fully on my studies, research opportunities, and career development. Every dollar of support makes a difference, and receiving this scholarship would mean that I can continue working toward a better future without the constant stress of how I will afford tuition and supplies. Thank you for considering my application. I am committed to making meaningful contributions to the field of biology and to supporting future scientists from communities like mine. With your help, I will move one step closer to achieving my dreams.

Mental health is a social issue that is deeply personal to me. Both of my parents have struggled with untreated mental illness throughout my life, and I have witnessed firsthand how devastating it can be, not only for the individuals suffering, but also for the families who love and depend on them. Their mental health challenges made it difficult for them to keep steady jobs, caused emotional instability in our home, and contributed to our ongoing financial hardship and almost caused me to lose my home. Because of this, I have made it my mission to learn more about mental health and help reduce the stigma surrounding it in my family and my community. Growing up in a low-income, single-parent household, I didn’t hear conversations about mental health. It was treated like a taboo subject. I didn’t have the words to explain what was happening. For a long time, I felt helpless. That began to change after we received an eviction notice. We nearly lost our home due to financial instability linked to my dad’s untreated mental illness. That moment shifted something inside me. I realized that mental health isn’t just personal, it’s a social issue that affects housing, education, stability, and relationships. I knew I wanted to do something about it. Since then, I’ve started educating myself about mental health. I’ve read articles, watched videos, and followed advocates who work to destigmatize mental illness, especially in communities of color. I’ve also started opening up conversations with my friends and peers about emotional well-being and the importance of seeking support. I believe change starts with honest conversations. These steps may be small, but they are helping to build a culture of openness and understanding around mental health in a space where silence once dominated. As a 100% Mexican student born to undocumented parents, I’ve seen the cultural stigma that exists in many immigrant families. Mental illness is often treated as a weakness or something to keep hidden. I’m working to challenge that, not through confrontation, but through education, empathy, and leadership. I talk about mental health the same way I talk about physical health: as something that affects us all and deserves care. Since the first day I arrived in the United States at age 14, I’ve also worked in a restaurant to help support my household. Balancing work, school, and family responsibilities has taught me discipline, time management, and persistence. It’s also made me more compassionate; when you work hard to help your family survive, you understand why mental health matters so deeply. In addition to work and advocacy, I’ve been active in my school community. I played varsity soccer all four years and served as team captain my senior year, earning a plaque as our top scorer. I served as student body vice president during both my junior and senior years, showing my commitment to leadership. I’ve also been involved in Spanish Club for two years, participated in the National Technical Honor Society, and taken art classes that helped me express myself creatively. These experiences have helped me lead by example and support my peers through challenges of their own. In college, I plan to study biology and pursue a career where I can continue advocating for mental wellness, possibly in healthcare, research, or public health. I want to be a voice for families like mine, to help ensure that no one suffers in silence. Addressing mental health isn't just a cause, it’s a responsibility rooted in my own story. Through education, leadership, and honest conversations, I’m working to break the silence and create a more understanding community.

An Eviction Notice That Changed Everything One of the most important experiences in my life came with a single sheet of paper—an eviction notice taped to our front door. It was a moment that filled my home with fear and uncertainty, but it also sparked something in me: a deeper understanding of who I am, how the world works, and how communities rise—or fall—based on the support we give one another. I’ve always lived in a single-parent, low-income household. My life has been split between two countries—my mom in Mexico and my dad in the United States. Both of my parents are undocumented and have battled mental health issues that made it difficult for them to keep steady jobs. Because of this, financial instability has been a constant part of my life. We’ve had to make hard choices, stretch what little we had, and depend on each other to get through. When we were served with the eviction notice, I felt like my world was collapsing. I remember wondering, “Where will we go? What will happen to us?” But what followed was more important than the notice itself. My dad and I didn’t give up—we looked for resources, worked extra jobs, and leaned on people who were willing to help. We managed to come up with the money, and we stayed in our home. That experience taught me that even in moments of crisis, we are not powerless. It also forced me to grow up faster than most kids my age. I had to learn how to contribute financially, manage adult responsibilities, and still focus on my schoolwork. Despite everything, I remained an A/B honor roll student, driven by the belief that education is my best path to stability and success. That eviction notice wasn’t just a threat—it was a turning point that pushed me to take control of my future. The experience shaped my understanding of myself. I learned that I’m resilient. I don’t back down when things get hard. I face challenges head-on and do what needs to be done. I also realized that I’m not just doing this for myself—I’m doing it for my family and community. Being the first in my family to graduate from high school and pursue college means breaking cycles that have held us back for generations. It also opened my eyes to how the world treats people who are struggling. I saw how easy it is to fall through the cracks when you’re undocumented, low-income, or dealing with mental health challenges. That awareness has fueled my passion to help others. I want to pursue a degree in biology and use my education to support communities like mine—whether through healthcare, advocacy, or public service. That single eviction notice changed my life. It challenged me, but more importantly, it revealed my purpose. I now understand that real strength comes from using your story not just to survive, but to lift others along the way.

Breaking Barriers: What College Means to Me Going into college means everything to me. It’s more than a personal achievement—it’s a turning point for my entire family. As a first-generation college student and the first in my family to graduate from high school, attending college represents the opportunity to break generational cycles of poverty and limited access. It means proving that where I come from does not define how far I can go. I am 100% Mexican, born in Ohio to undocumented parents who have sacrificed more than I can ever fully understand. Their immigration status meant they had limited opportunities and constant uncertainty. Both of my parents struggled with mental health challenges, and because of that, they were never able to maintain stable employment. We have always lived in a low-income, single-parent household. I’ve moved between my mom in Mexico and my dad in the U.S., constantly adapting to new environments while trying to stay grounded in my goals. No one in my family has graduated from high school. My dad left school at 16 to support his family, and his mother only completed the second grade. For them, survival always came before school. That reality pushed me to work even harder—not just for myself, but for the future of my family. I’ve contributed financially to our household, helped keep us from being evicted, and still maintained my focus on academics. Becoming an A/B honor roll student has been one of my proudest accomplishments, not because of the grades alone, but because I earned them while managing real-world responsibilities far beyond my age. To me, college means the chance to build a stable, meaningful life. I see it as a door opening—not just for me, but for everyone who comes after me. I want to show my younger family members that we can reach higher, even when the odds are against us. Education is the tool I’m using to carve out a new path. I have a strong passion for biology because it helps me understand how the world and the human body work on a deeper level. I’m fascinated by how everything in life is connected—how even small changes in a system can have powerful impacts. That idea inspires me to pursue a career in a science-related or health field where I can be part of real change, especially for communities like mine that have been underserved for too long. What I’m trying to accomplish by going to college is simple but powerful: I want to create stability for my family, contribute to my community, and prove that dreams can survive even the hardest circumstances. I want my story to reflect not just hardship, but growth, purpose, and transformation. College is not just the next step in my education—it’s the beginning of everything I’ve been working for. Thank you for your time and consideration.

Living With Purpose: How I Plan to Serve My Community Being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member means using your strengths to support and uplift others. It means showing up with intention, taking responsibility even when it’s hard, and contributing in ways that help your community thrive. These are not abstract ideas to me—they’re values I’ve had to live by every day. I was raised in a single-parent household and have always lived in low-income conditions. I moved between my mother in Mexico and my father in the United States. My dad has been my primary guardian for the past few years, but throughout my life, I have only known a one-parent home. Both of my parents struggle with mental health issues, which made it difficult for them to maintain steady jobs or provide financial stability. Because of this, I’ve had to help contribute to the household income while also focusing on school. Last year, we were served with an eviction notice. That experience was terrifying. We didn’t know if we’d have a place to live. But we pulled together, found the money, and avoided losing our home. That situation taught me what responsibility really looks like. I realized that even though I’m young, I have the power to help my family and make a difference in our lives. I learned how to problem-solve, stay calm under pressure, and push forward when things get hard. Despite all the chaos and stress at home, I’ve worked hard in school and remained an A/B honor roll student. I’ve always believed that education is my way out of the cycle of instability that has followed my family for generations. No one in my family has ever completed high school. My dad left school at age 16 to support his family, and his mother only made it to the second grade. I am proud to be the first in my family to graduate from high school and pursue college. I have a strong passion for biology because it allows me to understand how life works on the most basic level. I find it fascinating how every living system connects and depends on balance. It reminds me of how communities work—we all rely on each other to function. I want to use my knowledge of biology to make a difference in my community, possibly through healthcare, research, or public health. My goal is to use science to solve problems, help people, and create long-term stability for those who need it most. In the future, I plan to embody purpose by using my education and personal experiences to help others. I want to be responsible by staying true to my values and by always showing up for my community. And I will be productive by making real contributions—whether that’s helping others understand their health, addressing public health issues, or mentoring students who are growing up in tough circumstances like I did. Being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member means turning pain into purpose, struggle into strength, and knowledge into action. That’s the kind of person I plan to be.

Growing up in a single-parent and low-income household has defined much of my background and shaped the person I’ve become. My story is one of movement, sacrifice, and perseverance—constantly navigating the challenges of instability, yet refusing to let those challenges determine my future. I have lived in both Mexico and the United States, raised by only one parent at a time. My mom lived in Mexico, and my dad in the U.S. I was with my mom until age eight, then with my dad for a year, returned to my mom for six more years, and now live with my dad again. In all those years, I have never known what it’s like to live in a two-parent household, and financial hardship has always been part of my reality. Both of my parents have struggled with mental health issues, which has made it difficult for them to maintain steady employment. Because of this, we’ve often lived on the edge—worrying about how we would afford food, bills, and rent. I’ve grown up in a home where it wasn’t uncommon to go without things we needed and where I had to contribute financially just to help us stay afloat. Last year, we were served an eviction notice. That moment was terrifying, and for a while, we didn’t know what would happen. But we managed to come together, gather the funds, and avoid losing our home. That experience reminded me how fragile financial stability can be and how strong I’ve had to become to keep pushing forward. In my family, no one has completed high school. My dad left school at 16 to support his family—his mother only reached the second grade. Education always came second to survival. But I’ve made the decision to break that cycle. Despite our struggles, I’ve stayed focused on school and have worked hard to become an A/B honor roll student. For me, education isn’t just about a diploma—it’s a way to build a stable life and create opportunities my family has never had. Living in a household shaped by both financial stress and emotional hardship has also affected how I build relationships. I tend to keep my circle small and have difficulty trusting people deeply. But I’ve also learned how important strong, supportive relationships are. The few I have, I value deeply. They’ve shown me that while independence has made me strong, connection is just as vital. My experience has also shaped how I view the world. I’ve seen what it means to work hard and still struggle, and I’ve learned that stability, mental health, and access to resources should never be taken for granted. My upbringing has made me empathetic, resourceful, and determined to do better—not just for myself, but for others like me. Looking ahead, I hope to earn a college degree and pursue a career where I can support others facing hardship—whether through mental health advocacy, social work, or a community-focused field with a biology focus. I want to turn my challenges into tools that help others. I’ve spent my life witnessing what happens when families are unsupported, and I want to be part of the solution. Despite everything, I am proud of where I am today. Growing up in a single-parent, low-income household has been tough, but it has also made me resilient, focused, and deeply motivated. I am not only surviving—I am choosing to rise above and build something greater.

How My Hispanic Family Background Shapes My Worldview Growing up in a Mexican family has deeply shaped how I see the world - through both struggle and beauty. My parents were born and raised in small, rural villages in Mexico. They grew up in clay homes with dirt floors, no beds, and very little access to running water or electricity. Poverty wasn’t just something they knew, it was something they lived. From them, I inherited not only a strong work ethic, but a clear understanding that poor communities often face limited opportunities. Without access to technology or higher education, people are often forced to survive rather than thrive. Their story has given me perspective, humility, and motivation. Although I spent most of my childhood in Mexico, I came to the United States as a freshman in high school to live with my dad. The transition was a culture shock. Everything felt different -the language, the pace, the expectations. I missed the warmth of my hometown, where neighbors feel like family and parties explode with color and flavor. Yet, I came to America seeking opportunity, growth, and a chance to build a better life. After traveling to America myself with three articles of clothing that didn't even fit me, I knew I had to adapt quickly. So I worked hard to learn another language, find a job and make A/B Honor roll. That journey accelerated me into independence, though that is already my nature. My culture prepared me to be strong and self-sufficient. In many ways, I’ve learned to depend only on myself. While this has made me resilient, it also makes trusting new relationships difficult. Mexican culture is vibrant and full of life. It doesn’t whisper, it sings. It dances in the streets with mariachis, wraps itself in colorful fabrics, and smells like fresh tamales steaming on the stove. We celebrate everything: births, baptisms, graduations, and even small family reunions with fireworks of flavor and color. Our decorations are never dull; papel picado flutters like laughter through the air, piñatas burst like joyful confetti, and even the food tells a story of togetherness. You can taste the love in handmade tortillas, hear unity in clinking plates, and feel community in the way every dish is meant to be shared. This love for family and celebration has shown me the power of community. Even though my parents came from poverty, they never let it stop them from giving generously, especially with food and time. They’ve taught me that strength isn’t always loud. It’s sometimes found in quiet resilience and in cooking for others after a long day. From my background, I’ve learned to value connection, hard work, and heritage. I carry these lessons with me as I pursue my future. The Carlos F. Garcia Muentes Scholarship represents more than support. It reflects the values of perseverance, family, and pride in culture. As I work toward a college degree, I do so with the vision of clay houses and dirt floors beneath my feet, as well as the hope of something better in my heart. My story, shaped by Mexican traditions and struggle, is not just my past. It’s the fuego that drives my future.

My greatest achievement so far isn’t something most people would expect. It’s not a trophy, a perfect score, or a big award, though I did earn a plaque for scoring the most goals on the varsity soccer team this season as captain. It’s the fact that I’ve made it to this point: graduating high school and preparing to attend college, despite all the odds stacked against me. I am proud of this achievement because no one in my family has ever done it. I am breaking a cycle of generational poverty, educational setbacks, and mental health struggles that have limited opportunities for those who came before me. In my family, no one has been able to finish high school. My father had to drop out at age 16 to help support his family. His mother, my loving abuela, only went as far as second grade. Not because they didn’t care about school, but because survival came first. Work, caregiving, and financial responsibilities always came before education. That same pressure to survive still exists in my life today, but I’ve used it as motivation rather than a limitation. I have lived my entire life in a single-parent household, first with my mom in Mexico, then with my dad in the United States, and back and forth several times. Throughout all these transitions, mental health challenges deeply affected both of my parents. Their struggles made it difficult for them to hold steady jobs and keep consistent income in the household. That meant I had to grow up quickly, learning to take care of myself and often stepping in to help financially. I’ve had jobs, found ways to cut costs, and supported our household when we were barely getting by. One of the scariest moments came last year when we were served with an eviction notice. At that moment, everything felt like it was falling apart. We didn’t know where we would go or what would happen. But instead of giving up, we came together, found resources, and were able to come up with the money just in time. That experience taught me how strong I really am. It showed me that I’m not just surviving my circumstances, but that I’m learning, growing, and preparing myself for something better. Through all of this, I’ve stayed focused on school. I’ve worked hard to become an A/B honor roll student and never let my home life distract me from my goals. I believe that education is my way out, my chance to create a better life. This isn't just for me, but for my family and community. My parents’ struggles with mental health taught me the value of emotional and financial stability. They showed me that mental wellness is the foundation for everything else, like relationships, jobs, and peace of mind. Because I’ve seen the impact when it’s missing, I’m passionate about breaking the stigma around mental health and creating space for support and healing. In the future, I hope to earn a college degree and pursue a career where I can help others, especially families like mine. I’m still exploring which path that might take. It could be possibly mental health services, social work, or advocacy, though I have a passion for biology. but I know I want to dedicate my life to helping others feel seen, heard, and supported. I want to be the person I needed growing up. This journey hasn’t been easy. I’ve doubted myself. I’ve had to say no to things other students take for granted. I’ve worked when others relaxed, stressed when others celebrated. But every challenge has made me stronger, more compassionate, and more determined. So, when I say my greatest achievement is being here today - graduating, applying for college, and preparing for a new chapter - I say it with pride. I have defied the odds, and I plan to keep doing so. With the help of scholarships like the WCEJ Thornton Foundation, I will continue to break barriers and build a future that reflects where I’ve been, but more importantly, where I’m going. Thank you for this opportunity.

My name is Rosalinda Gonzalez, and I am a proud Mexican American, first-generation college student with a deep passion for science, especially biology. My love for science started with my fascination for nature and the human body. I’ve always been curious about how living things function and how small changes in one system can affect the entire organism. This curiosity has grown into a commitment to learn, research, and contribute to the advancement of science. Growing up, I watched my parents work tirelessly to support our family with limited resources. They came from humble beginnings, with homes made of clay and dirt floors in rural Mexico. Maybe this is why I feel connected with nature. Despite the financial hardships, they always emphasized the value of education and perseverance. Their resilience has inspired me to pursue a future in science, not just for personal growth, but to make a meaningful impact in the world. As I begin my college journey, I plan to major in biology and eventually conduct research in human health and genetics. My goal is to work on developing better treatments for chronic illnesses, especially those that disproportionately affect underserved communities. I want to be part of a generation of scientists that uses knowledge, compassion, and innovation to improve lives. Science is evolving faster than ever, and I’m excited to contribute to this movement. I’m particularly interested in how emerging technologies. Examples are gene editing, bioinformatics, and regenerative medicine and how these things are changing the way we understand and treat disease. I want to participate in research that not only deepens scientific knowledge but also reaches real people who need it most. In the last few years since my permanent move to the United States, I have also become interested in the human mind, and why humans do the things they do. While some of this interest has a psychological component, I am interested in how that physically changes the body, subsequently giving changes to a person's genetics. I want to be able to contribute hard, scientific evidence of how minds and bodies change exposed to different environments. The William Griggs Memorial Scholarship for Science and Math represents more than financial support. It’s an opportunity to turn passion into purpose. It would allow me to focus more fully on my education and become the scientist I’ve always dreamed of being. I am determined to make the most of this opportunity by working hard, staying curious, and giving back to my community. Thank you for considering my application. I look forward to using my education in science to create lasting contributions in both research and service.

Destigmatizing Mental Health: A Personal Journey Toward Stability and Purpose My experience with mental health has never been distant or theoretical. It has shaped the core of who I am. Raised in a single-parent household, I’ve moved between my mother in Mexico and my father in the United States throughout my childhood. I lived with my mom until I was eight, then with my dad for a year, returned to my mom for six more years, and eventually came back to live with my dad permanently. Throughout it all, mental health challenges were a constant presence in my family life, influencing my goals, my relationships, and how I understand the world around me. Both of my parents have battled with mental health issues, which deeply affected their ability to maintain consistent employment. As a result, financial instability was something I faced early on. Last year, my father and I were served with an eviction notice. That experience was frightening and destabilizing. It also became a moment of realization. I saw firsthand how untreated or unsupported mental health can jeopardize the foundation of a family’s wellbeing. Thankfully, we were able to come up with the money in time, but the fear of losing our home left a lasting impact on me. Because of this, I’ve come to believe that mental health is not just important, it is necessary. Mental wellness is the foundation of stability, opportunity, and growth. When it is neglected, the consequences can affect generations. This understanding has shaped my goals in a profound way. I am committed to pursuing a college education not just for personal advancement, but as a way to rise above generational hardship and eventually support others. I want a career where I can give back, possibly with biological research that could give people a better understanding of the science behind mental illness - to help people who, like my parents, are struggling in silence. My experience has also shaped the way I relate to others. Living in a home impacted by mental health instability taught me to be cautious. I don’t easily trust others or build deep friendships, and I’ve learned to protect myself emotionally. However, this caution has also made me intentional. The few relationships I do have are built on real trust and mutual support. They’ve shown me that healing doesn’t happen alone, it happens through connection. Understanding mental health from such an up-close perspective has also changed how I see the world. I’ve realized that so many people are fighting battles we cannot see. My hope is to be someone who helps break the silence and reduce the stigma. I want to be part of the generation that normalizes mental health care, especially in communities where it’s still treated as taboo. My parents refuse to even acknowledge their mental health struggles, and sometimes even struggle to communicate simple feelings. I know it my Mexican culture contributes to that struggle. I have learned that mental health is just as important as physical health. Without regulation, there is bound to be sickness. The Ethel Hayes Destigmatization of Mental Health Scholarship speaks to everything I’ve lived through and believe in. Mental health is not a weakness. It is a reality, and talking about it is the first step toward healing. My lived experience has not only taught me resilience, but it has also lit a fire in me to use my voice, my education, and my future career to make a difference in how the world understands mental health.

How My Hispanic Family Background Shapes My Worldview Growing up in a Mexican family has deeply shaped how I see the world - through both struggle and beauty. My parents were born and raised in small, rural villages in Mexico. They grew up in clay homes with dirt floors, no beds, and very little access to running water or electricity. Poverty wasn’t just something they knew, it was something they lived. From them, I inherited not only a strong work ethic, but a clear understanding that poor communities often face limited opportunities. Without access to technology or higher education, people are often forced to survive rather than thrive. Their story has given me perspective, humility, and motivation. Although I spent most of my childhood in Mexico, I came to the United States as a freshman in high school to live with my dad. The transition was a culture shock. Everything felt different -the language, the pace, the expectations. I missed the warmth of my hometown, where neighbors feel like family and parties explode with color and flavor. Yet, I came to America seeking opportunity, growth, and a chance to build a better life. After traveling to America myself with three articles of clothing that didn't even fit me, I knew I had to adapt quickly. So I worked hard to learn another language, find a job and make A/B Honor roll. That journey accelerated me into independence, though that is already my nature. My culture prepared me to be strong and self-sufficient. In many ways, I’ve learned to depend only on myself. While this has made me resilient, it also makes trusting new relationships difficult. Mexican culture is vibrant and full of life. It doesn’t whisper—it sings. It dances in the streets with mariachis, wraps itself in colorful fabrics, and smells like fresh tamales steaming on the stove. We celebrate everything: births, baptisms, graduations, and even small family reunions with fireworks of flavor and color. Our decorations are never dull; papel picado flutters like laughter through the air, piñatas burst like joyful confetti, and even the food tells a story of togetherness. You can taste the love in handmade tortillas, hear unity in clinking plates, and feel community in the way every dish is meant to be shared. This love for family and celebration has shown me the power of community. Even though my parents came from poverty, they never let it stop them from giving generously, especially with food and time. They’ve taught me that strength isn’t always loud. It’s sometimes found in quiet resilience and in cooking for others after a long day. From my background, I’ve learned to value connection, hard work, and heritage. I carry these lessons with me as I pursue my future. The Jose Prado Memorial Scholarship represents more than support. It reflects the values of perseverance, family, and pride in culture. As I work toward a college degree, I do so with the vision of clay houses and dirt floors beneath my feet, as well as the hope of something better in my heart. My story, shaped by Mexican traditions and struggle, is not just my past. It’s the fuego that drives my future.

Biology is more than just a subject I enjoy. Biology is a passion that grounds me, inspires me, and gives me purpose. Nature has always brought me peace, and through biology, I’ve come to understand why. Every living thing is part of a complex system, where each element plays a vital role. If one part is removed or altered, the outcome changes. That delicate balance fascinates me and drives my desire to study biology more deeply, especially when it comes to the human body. The human body is an extraordinary biological system. Each of its parts: cells, tissues, organs, and systems, must work in harmony to function properly. I’m fascinated by how one mutation, one missing enzyme, or one faulty signal can affect everything. This complexity doesn’t intimidate me, it motivates me. I want to understand what causes imbalances and how science can restore them. Biology gives me the tools to ask questions, seek answers, and one day help create solutions that improve lives. Technology has also fueled my passion for biology. Tools like CRISPR gene editing, AI-assisted diagnostics, and 3D bioprinting are transforming the way we study life and treat disease. These advancements make it possible to study DNA, model viruses, and personalize medicine in ways that were once unimaginable. Biology is no longer limited to the lab. It’s become a global force of innovation. I’m excited to be part of a generation that will use technology to advance biology and solve real-world problems. As a first-generation, Mexican American student, graduating college means everything to me. It’s not merely a goal. It’s a milestone for my entire family. My parents have worked incredibly hard, often behind the scenes and without recognition, to give me a better future. They didn’t have the opportunity to pursue higher education, but they never stopped encouraging me to dream bigger than my circumstances. Their sacrifices motivate me every day to make the most of my education and be someone they’re proud of. Being Mexican American, I also carry the pride of my heritage and the responsibility to represent my community. I want to show that students like me belong in science, in research, and in leadership. Graduating college is not just for my success. It will serve as a statement that first-generation students can overcome obstacles, thrive in higher education, and inspire others to do the same. Receiving the Jose Ventura and Margarita Melendez Mexican American Scholarship Fund would not only ease the financial burden of college, it would also affirm that my goals are worth pursuing. This scholarship represents support for students like me, those who are proud of where they come from and determined to succeed. I am committed to carrying that support forward, both in my academic journey and eventually by mentoring others who share my background and dreams. Biology is the perfect intersection of curiosity, compassion, and discovery. It connects me to the world, challenges me to think critically, and empowers me to make a difference. I am excited to continue this journey, graduate college, and one day give back to the community that helped shape me.

How My Experience with Mental Health Has Influenced My Beliefs, Relationships, and Career Aspirations Growing up in a single-parent household, I’ve had a front-row seat to the impact mental health can have on a family. My life has been shaped by the back-and-forth transitions between my mom, who lives in Mexico, and my dad, who lives in the United States. I lived with my mom until I was eight, then spent a year with my dad, returned to my mom for six more years, and eventually came back to live with my dad. Through all these changes, one thing has remained constant: I’ve always been in a single-parent household affected by mental health challenges. Both of my parents have struggled with mental health in different ways, and it has affected their ability to hold steady jobs. Because of this, financial stress has always been present. There have been times when I’ve had to step in and contribute to the household income to help us get by. Last year, we were served with an eviction notice. That moment was terrifying. It made everything feel unstable and uncertain. Thankfully, we were able to gather the funds by applying for emergency services and stayed in our home, but the fear of losing everything left a deep mark on me. This experience has taught me a belief that I now hold strongly: mental health is not something that should be ignored or pushed aside. It is vital for creating and maintaining stability. It's imperative not just emotionally, but financially and socially. When mental health isn’t supported, it can lead to a chain reaction that affects every area of life. I’ve seen that play out in my family, and it’s made me determined to create a different future for myself. My parents’ mental health struggles have also affected my ability to form strong relationships. Growing up, it was hard to trust people because I didn’t always feel secure at home. I became cautious about who I let into my life. I don’t easily open up to others, but I have learned to find strength in the few relationships I do have. The people I trust now are people I truly value. Instead of letting these challenges hold me back, I’ve used them as motivation. I’ve pushed myself academically, becoming an A/B honor roll student. Education has been my way out - a path to something better. I see college not just as a place to earn a degree, but as a door to opportunity, growth, and healing. I want to pursue a career that gives me the ability to help others, possibly in the mental health or healthcare field, because I know what it’s like to live through it and survive it. In the end, my experience with mental health hasn’t broken me. In fact, it’s shaped me. It’s taught me the value of resilience, the importance of emotional well-being, and the power of education to change a life. That is exactly what I plan to do with mine.