Loss has been a defining part of my life. I lost my father in 2001, my mother in 2009, and my brother suddenly in 2018. Each loss came at a different stage of my life, but all of them shaped how I see the world, how I connect with people, and the work I have chosen to pursue. If I could start a business with my brother, it would not be a traditional business focused on profit—it would be a community-based crisis response and recovery support organization. It would combine mental health support, peer recovery, and real-time crisis intervention, especially in rural communities like mine in Craig, Colorado. The reason is simple: I have seen firsthand how people fall through the cracks. After losing my family members, especially my brother, I came to understand how isolating grief can be. There is no clear roadmap, no immediate support system that meets people in the moment when everything changes. That gap is even more evident in the work I do today. As a Community Response Advocate and Peer Recovery Coach, I have responded to suicide scenes, mental health crises, and situations where families are left trying to process the unthinkable in real time. If my brother and I could build something together, it would be designed to meet people in those exact moments. It would focus on immediate, human-centered response—trained individuals who can show up alongside emergency services to provide emotional support, guidance, and connection to resources. It would also include ongoing recovery support through peer coaching and community-based programs, helping people rebuild after crisis rather than leaving them to navigate it alone. This vision is not hypothetical for me—it directly connects to the path I am already on. I am pursuing EMT training with the goal of becoming a co-responder, integrating medical care with behavioral health support. I want to help build a system that responds to people with both skill and compassion, especially in underserved rural areas. Losing my parents and my brother taught me that life can change in an instant. It also taught me that what matters most is how we show up for each other in those moments. If I could build something with my brother, it would be something that ensures no one has to face those moments alone.

Recovery, to me, is not a finish line—it is a daily decision. It is choosing consistency, honesty, and accountability, even when it would be easier not to. I am in long-term recovery from opiate addiction, with nine years of sobriety. That journey has shaped how I approach my life and my work. It taught me how to build structure, find purpose, and replace short-term escape with something sustainable. Through my work as a Peer Recovery Coach and Community Response Advocate, I have supported individuals in crisis, including mental health emergencies, suicide scenes, and domestic violence situations. I have seen how difficult it is for people to take the first step, and how easily they fall through the cracks when support is not consistent. Recovery is not just about removing substances—it is about building connection. As a volunteer CrossFit coach with The Phoenix Sober Community, I help individuals in recovery develop accountability, confidence, and community. Showing up consistently, for myself and others, is at the core of what recovery means. I am pursuing EMT training to expand my ability to support people in crisis, especially in my rural community of Craig, Colorado. My goal is to become a co-responder, integrating medical and behavioral health support. Recovery is not just about staying sober—it is about building a life that makes staying sober worth it. And it is something I choose every day.

For me, leadership has never been about a title—it has been about showing up consistently for people who need support, especially when there is no clear system in place to help them. My service work has largely been through my role as a Community Response Advocate with Open Heart Advocates/ACTSS, where I responded to domestic violence incidents, deaths, assaults, and mental health crises, including suicide scenes. In those moments, leadership meant stepping into uncertainty, helping stabilize chaotic environments, and providing non-clinical emotional support to individuals and families during some of the most difficult times of their lives. It also meant assisting with logistics and ensuring people were connected to the resources they needed once the immediate crisis passed. Beyond crisis response, I have supported an emotional support line, contributed to suicide prevention efforts, and worked directly with victims of crime and individuals and families experiencing homelessness. I have also volunteered as a CrossFit coach with The Phoenix Sober Community, helping individuals in recovery build strength, accountability, and connection through fitness. In that role, leadership looks different—it is about consistency, encouragement, and helping people rebuild confidence and community in a healthy environment. I have also served as a volunteer firefighter, where I learned the importance of teamwork, accountability, and disciplined response in high-stress situations. Combined with my current role as a Court Liaison and certified Peer Recovery Coach, my work has focused on bridging gaps between systems and helping individuals navigate challenges related to mental health, substance use, and the justice system. What connects all of this is a commitment to service that goes beyond obligation. This work is not required—it is something I choose because I have seen the impact it makes when someone shows up with empathy, reliability, and the ability to act. Leadership through service matters because systems alone are not enough. People need connection, trust, and guidance—especially in moments of crisis or recovery. I have seen how one person showing up consistently can change the direction of someone’s life. My goal moving forward is to expand that impact. I am pursuing EMT training to add medical capability to the service work I already do, with the goal of becoming a co-responder in my rural community of Craig, Colorado. There is currently no co-responder program in my area, and I want to help build one that integrates emergency response with behavioral health support. Paying it forward, to me, means using my experience to create better outcomes not just for individuals, but for the community as a whole. Service has shaped who I am, and leadership is how I choose to apply it.

I have spent a lot of my life surrounded by loss, trauma, and instability—both personally and professionally. Over time, that created a pattern I had to confront: I was always the one showing up for others, but not always taking the time to process or address the weight of what I was carrying myself. That pattern, combined with experiences of loss, including deaths by suicide and exposure to repeated trauma in my work, forced me to make a choice—either let it harden me or use it to become someone who could help others in a meaningful way. I chose the second. As a Community Response Advocate with Open Heart Advocates/ACTSS, I stepped directly into crisis situations—domestic violence incidents, deaths, assaults, and mental health emergencies, including suicide scenes. I provided non-clinical emotional support, helped stabilize chaotic environments, and supported families and individuals through some of the most difficult moments of their lives. I also worked on an emotional support line, contributed to suicide prevention efforts, and supported victims of crime and unhoused individuals. These experiences didn’t just expose me to struggle—they gave me a deep understanding of how people fall through the cracks. At the same time, I had to learn how to navigate my own. Carrying the weight of repeated trauma, managing mental health, and maintaining stability while continuing to show up for others has been an ongoing challenge. It required me to build discipline, self-awareness, and resilience in ways I didn’t fully understand at the beginning. Rising above that struggle hasn’t been a single moment—it’s been a continuous process of choosing growth, accountability, and purpose. That process is what drives my ambition today. I currently work as a Court Liaison in Northwest Colorado and am a certified Peer Recovery Coach and Colorado Peer and Family Specialist, helping individuals navigate the justice system, mental health challenges, and recovery. But I’ve seen firsthand that support alone is not always enough when someone is in immediate crisis—especially in rural communities like mine in Craig, Colorado, where resources are limited and response options are often inadequate. That is why I am pursuing EMT training. My goal is to become a co-responder—someone who can respond alongside emergency services to provide both medical and behavioral health support in real time. There is currently no co-responder program in my community. I want to help change that by building a model that brings more effective, compassionate care to people in crisis. The struggles I have faced have given me clarity. I understand what it means to be in the middle of chaos, to feel unsupported, and to fight to move forward anyway. That perspective is not something I see as a disadvantage—it is the foundation of the work I am committed to doing. This scholarship represents more than financial support. It is an opportunity to continue rising above my own challenges while building something that creates better outcomes for others. My goal is not just to succeed personally, but to ensure that the systems around me evolve to better serve the people who need them most.

I have built my life around showing up in moments most people avoid. As a Community Response Advocate with Open Heart Advocates/ACTSS, I responded to domestic violence incidents, deaths, assaults, and mental health crises, including suicide scenes. In those moments, I provided non-clinical emotional support, helped stabilize chaotic environments, and guided people toward their next step when everything felt uncertain. I have worked with victims of crime, supported unhoused individuals and families, and contributed to suicide prevention efforts in my community. That work didn’t just show me where the system works—it showed me exactly where it fails. My ambition is to close those gaps. In rural communities like Craig, Colorado, where I live, crisis response options are limited. Law enforcement is often the only available response, even for mental health emergencies. That is not because it is the best solution, but because there are no alternatives built into the system. I have seen firsthand how that impacts outcomes for individuals in crisis, and I am not willing to accept that as the standard. I am pursuing EMT training to expand my role in these moments, adding medical capability to the crisis response and peer support work I already do. My goal is not just to participate in the system, but to help reshape it. I intend to become a co-responder—someone who can respond alongside emergency services to provide both medical and behavioral health support in real time. There is currently no co-responder program in my community. That absence is exactly what drives my ambition. I want to help build and implement a model that brings more effective, compassionate, and appropriate care to people in crisis. With my background as a Community Response Advocate, my work as a Court Liaison and Peer Recovery Coach, and my experience as a volunteer firefighter, I bring a perspective that bridges multiple systems. I understand how people fall through the cracks—and I am committed to changing that. For me, making a positive impact is not abstract. It is direct, immediate, and measurable. It is reducing harm in the moment, improving outcomes over time, and building systems that better serve the people who rely on them. My ambition is not just to respond to crises, but to create a better way to respond. This scholarship would support my ability to complete EMT training and continue building toward that goal. More importantly, it would help me take a step toward creating meaningful, lasting change in a community that needs it.