The fire that has always driven me is the desire to stand up when it matters most. My name is Safaa Majied, and I am a sophomore at DePaul University studying physics. Growing up as the daughter of Moroccan immigrants and the first in my family to attend college, I learned early that silence allows struggle to go unchallenged. Leadership is not about waiting for recognition. It is about taking action, speaking up, and creating spaces where others can thrive. I grew up homeless. My family of five shared a tiny motel room where poverty pressed on us like the air we breathed. My grandmother passed away there after a long battle with cancer, and my father, frail and sick, coughed up blood from sleeping on the cold floor because there were not enough beds. At school, I wore the same two outfits on repeat and was often mocked or ignored. But I refused to let my circumstances define my voice. I used every opportunity to create change, not just for myself, but for others who felt invisible. In high school, I took the initiative to start a peer-led tutoring program after noticing students struggling silently in physics and math classes. I remember guiding a freshman named Laila who had almost given up on chemistry because no one had noticed her struggle. I met her before school and after classes, showing her study techniques and encouraging her to lead mini-sessions herself. By the end of the year, she was tutoring others and helping to lead the study group. That experience taught me that leadership is not about control. It is the ripple effect of empowering others to rise. I also organized a STEM workshop for middle school girls from underserved neighborhoods. I coordinated volunteers, developed interactive physics experiments, and ran sessions where participants built simple rocket models. Watching shy girls light up as they launched their rockets made me realize how small acts of guidance and encouragement can ignite confidence and curiosity and shape an entire community. At DePaul University, I have continued to build spaces for inclusion. I joined student organizations supporting underrepresented students in STEM, advocating for tutoring programs and accessible study materials. I speak up in faculty meetings and student councils to ensure the voices of first-generation, low-income students, especially women of color, are represented. I mentor younger students from similar backgrounds, helping them navigate not just academics but the emotional and logistical challenges of college life. My vision extends beyond the classroom. I want to leverage my career in aerospace engineering to build communities where innovation and opportunity are inclusive. I plan to lead initiatives that connect students, engineers, and mentors, creating paths for underrepresented youth to explore STEM careers. Every project I lead and every student I encourage becomes a small yet powerful act that transforms a community from the inside out. Being an up-stander means using your voice, not just for yourself, but for those whose voices are unheard. My experiences overcoming homelessness, advocating for peers, and mentoring younger students have taught me that leadership combines courage, compassion, and action. I aim to continue standing up, advocating for inclusion, and building communities where everyone can be seen, heard, and empowered. I am Safaa Majied, and leadership is my responsibility to the world. I will speak for those without a voice, guide those seeking direction, and build communities that rise together, fueled by knowledge, courage, and relentless ambition.

The first engine that ever ignited my dreams was the fire of survival. My name is Safaa Majied, a sophomore at DePaul University studying physics, the daughter of Moroccan immigrants, and the first in my family to attend college. To strangers, I share lighthearted details about myself, like my love for animals or my fascination with building rockets. However, the most important truth of my life is that I grew up homeless. I can vividly see that motel room, the tiny space where my family of five was crammed together, the air so heavy with poverty it felt suffocating against our chests. It was in that same room that my grandmother took her last breath after a long, painful battle with cancer. My father, sick and frail, coughed up blood night after night from sleeping on the cold, unyielding floor because there were not enough beds. Nights were unbearable. We huddled together on one singular, cracked, lumped mattress, listening to doors slam, strangers screaming, and police sirens. It was inescapable and a constant reminder that a safe roof over our heads was a luxury we could not afford. There were nights I curled up on cold, metal bus stop benches because the motel room was too loud, too chaotic, too unstable for me to focus. At school, I was the student no one noticed. The girl wearing the same two worn-out outfits on repeat, whispered about and mocked by classmates who could never fathom the weight I carried. I poured every ounce of energy into my studies, maintaining a 4.8 GPA, but no one saw the life I was hiding behind closed doors, the nights my body ached with hunger and exhaustion as I fought to survive long enough to make it to graduation. It was in May that I received my acceptance to DePaul University under a presidential scholarship, a milestone that marked the culmination of four years of relentless effort and sacrifice. That summer, I discovered my passion for physics. The thrill of solving complex problems and understanding the laws that govern the universe utterly captivated me. This fascination naturally evolved into a passion for aerospace engineering. I want my work in physics and aerospace engineering to help advance the boundaries of human exploration and innovation in space. Specifically, I aim to contribute to the design of propulsion systems and spacecraft technologies that make space travel safer, more efficient, and accessible for future generations. Beyond the technical impact, I want to make a social one. As a first-generation woman of color in STEM, I understand how rare it is to see someone like me in these fields. I want to use my platform and career to mentor and inspire other underrepresented students, showing them that their backgrounds are sources of fire and strength. By combining innovation with mentorship, I plan to contribute both to scientific progress and to a future where students like me are driven to pursue exploration, discovery, and opportunity beyond their barriers. Throughout it all, my passion for aerospace continues to inspire me. Every sleepless night with my textbooks, every exhausting commute, every penny I scrape together has sharpened my ambition. This scholarship would lift the heavy financial weight of survival from my shoulders, allowing me to dedicate myself fully to my education and my dreams of becoming a physicist and aerospace engineer. I am Safaa Majied. I was a homeless student with nothing, and from that fire, I am rising toward my dream of becoming an aerospace engineer

The first engine that ever ignited my dreams was the fire of survival. My name is Safaa Majied, a sophomore at DePaul University studying physics, the daughter of Moroccan immigrants, and the first in my family to attend college. To strangers, I share lighthearted details about myself, like my love for animals or my fascination with building rockets. However, the most important truth of my life is that I grew up homeless. I can vividly see that motel room, the tiny space where my family of five was crammed together, the air so heavy with poverty it felt suffocating against our chests. It was in that same room that my grandmother took her last breath after a long, painful battle with cancer. My father, sick and frail, coughed up blood night after night from sleeping on the cold, unyielding floor because there were not enough beds. Nights were unbearable. We huddled together on one singular, cracked, lumped mattress, listening to doors slam, strangers screaming, and police sirens. It was inescapable and a constant reminder that a safe roof over our heads was a luxury we could not afford. There were nights I curled up on cold, metal bus stop benches because the motel room was too loud, too chaotic, too unstable for me to focus. At school, I was the student no one noticed. The girl wearing the same two worn-out outfits on repeat, whispered about and mocked by classmates who could never fathom the weight I carried. I poured every ounce of energy into my studies, maintaining a 4.8 GPA, but no one saw the life I was hiding behind closed doors, the nights my body ached with hunger and exhaustion, as I fought to survive long enough to make it to graduation. It was in May that I received my acceptance to DePaul University under a presidential scholarship, a milestone that marked the culmination of four years of relentless effort and sacrifice. That summer, I discovered my passion for physics. The thrill of solving complex problems and understanding the laws that govern the universe utterly captivated me. This fascination naturally evolved into a passion for aerospace engineering. I want my work in physics and aerospace engineering to help advance the boundaries of human exploration and innovation in space. Specifically, I hope to contribute to designing propulsion systems and spacecraft technologies that make space travel safer, more efficient, and accessible for future generations. Beyond the technical impact, I want to make a social one. As a first-generation woman of color in STEM, I understand how rare it is to see someone like me in these fields. I want to use my platform and career to mentor and inspire other underrepresented students, showing them that their backgrounds are sources of fire and strength. By combining innovation with mentorship, I plan to contribute both to scientific progress and to a future where students like me are driven to pursue exploration, discovery, and opportunity beyond their barriers. Throughout it all, my passion for aerospace continues to inspire me. Every sleepless night with my textbooks, every exhausting commute, every penny I scrape together has sharpened my ambition. This scholarship would lift the heavy financial weight of survival from my shoulders, allowing me to dedicate myself fully to my education and my dreams of becoming a physicist and aerospace engineer. I am Safaa Majied. I was a homeless student with nothing, and from that fire, I am rising toward my dream of becoming an aerospace engineer

The first engine that ever ignited my dreams was the fire of survival. My name is Safaa Majied, a sophomore at DePaul University studying physics, the daughter of Moroccan immigrants, and the first in my family to attend college. To strangers, I share lighthearted details about myself, like my love for animals or my fascination with building rockets. However, the most important truth of my life is that I grew up homeless. I can vividly see that motel room, the tiny room where my family of five was crammed together, the air so heavy with poverty it felt suffocating against our chests. It was in that same room that my grandmother took her last breath after a long, painful battle with cancer. My father, sick and frail himself, coughed up blood night after night from sleeping on the cold, unyielding floor because there weren’t enough beds to go around. Nights were unbearable. We huddled together on one singular cracked, lumped mattress, listening to doors slam, strangers screaming, and police sirens. It was inescapable and a constant reminder that a safe roof over our heads was a luxury we could not afford. My parents fought tirelessly for us. Without degrees, they scrubbed toilets, cleaned floors, and endured back-breaking labor for wages so small we could only ever afford to survive off canned food. Yet even in their exhaustion, they shielded us from despair and taught me a lesson that has carried me through every hardship: no circumstance, not poverty, not illness, no hardship, can ever break me. That same fire is what propels me today, turning survival into the fuel for launching myself into aerospace engineering. There were nights I curled up on cold, metal bus stop benches because the motel room was too loud, too chaotic, too unstable for me to focus. At school, I was the student no one noticed, the girl wearing the same two worn-out outfits on repeat, whispered about and mocked by classmates who could never fathom the weight I carried. I often felt invisible, as if survival was the only expectation placed upon me. I poured every ounce of energy into my studies, maintaining a 4.8 GPA, but no one saw the life I was hiding behind closed doors, the nights my body ached with hunger and exhaustion as I dodged danger on the streets, fighting to survive long enough to make it to graduation. It was in May that I received my acceptance to DePaul University under a presidential scholarship, a milestone that marked the culmination of four years of relentless effort and sacrifice. That summer, I discovered my passion for physics. The thrill of complex problems and understanding the laws that govern the universe utterly captivated me. This fascination naturally evolved into a passion for pursuing aerospace engineering. I want my work in physics and aerospace engineering to help advance the boundaries of human exploration and innovation in space. Specifically, I hope to contribute to designing propulsion systems and spacecraft technologies that make space travel safer, more efficient, and accessible for future generations. Beyond the technical impact, I want to make a social one. As a first-generation woman of color in STEM, I understand how rare it is to see someone like me in these fields. I want to use my career to mentor and inspire other underrepresented students, showing them that their backgrounds are sources of fire and strength. By combining innovation with mentorship, I plan to contribute both to scientific progress and to a future where students like me are driven to pursue exploration, discovery, and opportunity beyond their barriers. In my current college journey, the challenges I face have taken on new depths. This past September, my father passed away in a violent way and I became my mother’s primary caregiver. She suffers from spinal disabilities, so after commuting four hours every day, I return home to cook, clean, and care for her. There have been nights when I was forced to sleep in my car because my living situation became abusive. One of the lowest points of my life was when I couldn’t afford a $13 train ticket to campus. I missed class, fell behind in a fast-paced quarter system, and felt the shame of watching my years of hard work slip through my fingers directly due to lack of finances. I am a low-income student, and without scholarships, I would not be here. Education for me is not only about pursuing my passion; it is about breaking a cycle of poverty that has defined my family for generations. Throughout it all, my passion for pursuing aerospace continues to inspire me. Every sleepless night with my textbooks, every exhausting commute, every penny I scrape together has sharpened my ambition. Some nights, I collapse into utter exhaustion, my mind spinning with the knowledge that I do not have enough money to fund my future. This is exactly why the Eric W. Larson Memorial STEM Scholarship is a life-changing opportunity for someone like me. It is a sacred opportunity to lift the heavy financial weight of everyday survival from my shoulders, allowing me to dedicate myself fully to my education and my dreams of becoming a physicist and aerospace engineer. With humility, I can say that this scholarship would change the trajectory of my life. It would support my tuition, allow me to invest in the aerospace projects I am planning, and give me the freedom to pour every ounce of energy into exploring the universe I have longed to reach. Thank you for taking the time to listen to my story. It is not easy to share these experiences with a stranger, but I am proud to do so. I am Safaa Majied. I was a homeless student with nothing, and from that fire, I am rising toward my dream of becoming an aerospace engineer.