I've always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, and The Craft, however, they never truly scared me because I knew they weren't real. No matter how frightening they seemed, I could always turn off the television and return to my own life. During my seventh-grade year, however, life became a nightmare I couldn't escape. My brother passed away, and not long afterward, I lost both of my grandparents and then my aunt. Suddenly, I wasn't just watching grief unfold—I was living through it. Although those losses were devastating, they also caused me to reflect on the sacrifices that made my own opportunities possible. Both of my parents' families, being sharecroppers, left the south to build better lives for future generations that might not have happened otherwise. Their journey was not easy. They faced financial hardship, discrimination, and the uncertainty that comes with starting over in a new place. Being the first person in my family to earn a college degree means carrying their legacy forward. It is more than receiving a diploma—it is honoring the sacrifices my grandparents made and proving that their courage created lasting change. Every class I take at Howard University is a reminder that I am building upon a dream that began long before I was born. My investigative mindset and desire to understand on a deeper level have driven me toward psychology, where I can work to address these barriers head-on. I know firsthand how life difficulties, such as grief and loss, can affect someone’s functioning in life. My experiences equipped me with the most determination to aid and lead with empathy for others. Equally interested in psychology and its intersection into criminology I hope to one day work in forensic psychology, where I can combine scientific evidence with an understanding of human behavior to help solve crimes. My interest in forensics is deeply personal. Losing loved ones to gun violence taught me how painful unanswered questions and grief can be. While no investigation can erase that pain, I believe families deserve to know that someone is committed to uncovering the truth with diligence, compassion, and respect for the people behind every case. I want to be part of that process—someone who approaches every investigation with integrity, carefully examines the evidence, and never loses sight of the lives affected. In the long-term, I want to continue learning, conducting research, and developing the skills necessary to make meaningful contributions to forensic investigations. Just as importantly, I want to serve communities with empathy, recognizing that every case represents someone's child, sibling, parent, or friend. Becoming the first college graduate in my family is my chance to honor their sacrifice. Your investment in my education is an investment in the communities and families I hope to serve throughout my career. My education is not only to build a better future for myself but also to provide answers, healing, and hope for families facing some of life's most difficult moments. Thank you.

I've always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, and The Craft, however, they never truly scared me because I knew they weren't real. No matter how frightening they seemed, I could always turn off the television and return to my own life. During my seventh-grade year, however, life became a nightmare I couldn't escape. My brother passed away, and not long afterward, I lost both of my grandparents and then my aunt. Suddenly, I wasn't just watching grief unfold—I was living through it. Although those losses were devastating, they also caused me to reflect on the sacrifices that made my own opportunities possible and I knew my potential could not be wasted. Both of my parents' families, being sharecroppers, left the south to build better lives for future generations that might not have happened otherwise. Their journey was not easy. They faced financial hardship, discrimination, and the uncertainty that comes with starting over in a new place. Being the first person in my family to earn a college degree means carrying their legacy forward. It is more than receiving a diploma—it is honoring the sacrifices my grandparents made and proving that their courage created lasting change. Every class I take at Howard University is a reminder that I am building upon a dream that began long before I was born. I hope my journey will inspire younger members of my family to believe that they, too, can pursue higher education and create opportunities for those who come after them. I am pursuing a degree in psychology because I have always been fascinated by understanding why people think, behave, and respond the way they do. As I continued exploring the field, I became equally interested in criminology and the ways psychology and criminal investigations intersect. I hope to one day work in forensic psychology or a related forensic field, where I can combine scientific evidence with an understanding of human behavior to help solve crimes. My interest in forensics is deeply personal. Losing loved ones to gun violence taught me how painful unanswered questions and grief can be. While no investigation can erase that pain, I believe families deserve to know that someone is committed to uncovering the truth with diligence, compassion, and respect for the people behind every case. I want to be part of that process—someone who approaches every investigation with integrity, carefully examines the evidence, and never loses sight of the human lives affected. Whether supporting criminal investigations, assisting law enforcement through behavioral analysis, or contributing to forensic research, I hope my work will bring clarity, accountability, and a measure of comfort to families searching for answers. My long-term goal is to build a career that bridges psychology, criminology, and forensic science while advocating for justice and mental health. I want to continue learning, conducting research, and developing the skills necessary to make meaningful contributions to forensic investigations. Just as importantly, I want to serve communities with empathy, recognizing that every case represents someone's child, sibling, parent, or friend. My grandparents' decision to leave the South was an act of hope. They believed future generations would have opportunities they never imagined. Becoming the first college graduate in my family is my chance to honor that sacrifice. Your investment in my education is an investment in the communities and families I hope to serve throughout my career. My education is not only to build a better future for myself but also to provide answers, healing, and hope for families facing some of life's most difficult moments.

I've always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, and The Craft, however, they never truly scared me because I knew they weren't real. No matter how frightening they seemed, I could always turn off the television and return to my own life. During my seventh-grade year, however, life became a nightmare I couldn't escape. My brother passed away, and not long afterward, I lost both of my grandparents and then my aunt. Suddenly, I wasn't just watching grief unfold—I was living through it. Although those losses were devastating, they also caused me to reflect on the sacrifices that made my own opportunities possible and I knew my potential could not be wasted. Both of my parents' families, being sharecroppers, left the south to build better lives for future generations that might not have happened otherwise. Their journey was not easy. They faced financial hardship, discrimination, and the uncertainty that comes with starting over in a new place. Being the first person in my family to earn a college degree means carrying their legacy forward. It is more than receiving a diploma—it is honoring the sacrifices my grandparents made and proving that their courage created lasting change. Every class I take at Howard University is a reminder that I am building upon a dream that began long before I was born. I hope my journey will inspire younger members of my family to believe that they, too, can pursue higher education and create opportunities for those who come after them. I am pursuing a degree in psychology because I have always been fascinated by understanding why people think, behave, and respond the way they do. As I continued exploring the field, I became equally interested in criminology and the ways psychology and criminal investigations intersect. I hope to one day work in forensic psychology or a related forensic field, where I can combine scientific evidence with an understanding of human behavior to help solve crimes. My interest in forensics is deeply personal. Losing loved ones to gun violence taught me how painful unanswered questions and grief can be. While no investigation can erase that pain, I believe families deserve to know that someone is committed to uncovering the truth with diligence, compassion, and respect for the people behind every case. I want to be part of that process—someone who approaches every investigation with integrity, carefully examines the evidence, and never loses sight of the human lives affected. Whether supporting criminal investigations, assisting law enforcement through behavioral analysis, or contributing to forensic research, I hope my work will bring clarity, accountability, and a measure of comfort to families searching for answers. My long-term goal is to build a career that bridges psychology, criminology, and forensic science while advocating for justice and mental health. I want to continue learning, conducting research, and developing the skills necessary to make meaningful contributions to forensic investigations. Just as importantly, I want to serve communities with empathy, recognizing that every case represents someone's child, sibling, parent, or friend. My grandparents' decision to leave the South was an act of hope. They believed future generations would have opportunities they never imagined. Becoming the first college graduate in my family is my chance to honor that sacrifice. By combining psychology, criminology, and forensic science to pursue justice with compassion, I hope to continue the legacy they began—using my education not only to build a better future for myself but also to provide answers, healing, and hope for families facing some of life's most difficult moments.

I’ve always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, The Craft—they never really scared me because I knew they weren’t realistic. No matter how terrifying they seemed on the screen, I could always turn off the TV and return to my normal life. But during high school, life threw me into a nightmare that I couldn’t switch off. It began when my brother passed away during my 7th-grade year. Soon after, I lost both of my grandparents, then my auntie. Suddenly, I wasn’t just watching horror unfold—I was living it. Now, that nightmare has served as the fuel to my fire for the past 6 years. Horror movies taught me that even in a nightmare, there are ways to survive and grow. The nightmare of grief forced me to face hard truths, and in doing so, I gained valuable life lessons. Losing my loved ones taught me that life is fragile, and every moment counts. I realized I had to take control of my time and find healthy ways to cope. One of the most important characteristics of people who survive in horror films is the will to survive. I had that will. I began to fill my life with activities that gave me purpose and connection. I took on the role of student ambassador at my school, leading efforts to ensure the school environment was welcoming for all students. I became captain of my volleyball team and a dance teacher in my church's dance ministry. Through these activities, I began to reclaim my life from the nightmare, finding strength in the very places I once felt trapped. Another thing I learned was the importance of human connection. In horror films, there is usually safety in numbers. Splitting up or isolating almost always ends badly. Yet, this was my first inclination when I found myself in my nightmare. Initially, I turned inward to myself, instead of outward to my community, and it only made things feel darker than they already were. Eventually, I realized that I needed others. I joined a dance company, which allowed me to express my feelings in ways words couldn’t. I took up sports—volleyball, basketball, track, and karate—which pushed me to stay active and connect with others. I explored new interests to better understand myself. In doing so, I found that even in this nightmare, I could make progress. I learned to navigate the pain, using my time to build myself back up instead of letting the grief consume me. Throughout my life journey, I realized that many of the battles I was facing were taking place overwhelmingly in my mind. My experience taught me that mental health challenges are often invisible, and many people carry emotional burdens that no one else can see. Living in Seattle also broadened my understanding of mental health. Growing up in such a diverse community allowed me to meet people from many different backgrounds, each with unique experiences and perspectives. I also witnessed how conversations surrounding mental health often differed across communities. Within the Black community especially, I saw how stigma, limited access to care, and cultural expectations sometimes prevented people from seeking help. Watching others struggle in silence deepened my belief that mental health support should be accessible, culturally informed, and free of shame. These experiences ultimately shaped my career goals. Wanting to understand why people think, feel, and respond the way they do led me to psychology. As I learned more about the relationship between thoughts, emotions, and behavior, I began to understand not only my own grief but also the experiences of those around me. Psychology gave me language for emotions I once couldn't explain and strengthened my desire to become someone who helps others navigate their own mental health challenges. Today, I no longer see my losses only as painful memories. They have become the foundation of my purpose. My experiences have taught me resilience, empathy, and the importance of human connection. They have shaped how I build relationships, how I understand the invisible struggles people face, and how I hope to serve others in the future. I want to dedicate my career to expanding access to mental health resources, particularly in underserved communities, and helping people realize that asking for help is not a sign of weakness but an act of courage. Although grief introduced me to mental health through heartbreak, it also gave me a lifelong purpose: to ensure others never have to face their own nightmares alone.

I’ve always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, The Craft—they never really scared me because I knew they weren’t realistic. No matter how terrifying they seemed on the screen, I could always turn off the TV and return to my normal life. But during high school, life threw me into a nightmare that I couldn’t switch off. It began when my brother passed away during my 7th-grade year. Soon after, I lost both of my grandparents, then my auntie. Suddenly, I wasn’t just watching horror unfold—I was living it. Now, that nightmare has served as the fuel to my fire for the past 6 years. Horror movies taught me that even in a nightmare, there are ways to survive and grow. The nightmare of grief forced me to face hard truths, and in doing so, I gained valuable life lessons. Losing my loved ones taught me that life is fragile, and every moment counts. I realized I had to take control of my time and find healthy ways to cope. One of the most important characteristics of people who survive in horror films is the will to survive. I had that will. I began to fill my life with activities that gave me purpose and connection. I took on the role of student ambassador at my school, leading efforts to ensure the school environment was welcoming for all students. I became captain of my volleyball team and a dance teacher in my church's dance ministry. Through these activities, I began to reclaim my life from the nightmare, finding strength in the very places I once felt trapped. Another thing I learned was the importance of human connection. In horror films, there is usually safety in numbers. Splitting up or isolating almost always ends badly. Yet, this was my first inclination when I found myself in my nightmare. Initially, I turned inward to myself, instead of outward to my community, and it only made things feel darker than they already were. Eventually, I realized that I needed others. I joined a dance company, which allowed me to express my feelings in ways words couldn’t. I took up sports—volleyball, basketball, track, and karate—which pushed me to stay active and connect with others. I explored new interests to better understand myself. In doing so, I found that even in this nightmare, I could make progress. I learned to navigate the pain, using my time to build myself back up instead of letting the grief consume me. Throughout my life journey, I realized that many of the battles I was facing were taking place overwhelmingly in my mind. This eventually led me to discover psychology, a field that resonated with my search for understanding the hidden science behind the conscious and unconscious mind. Psychology helped me to understand how my thoughts, emotions, and actions were all interrelated. The Mental Health Crisis is a serious global issue that is often overlooked, especially in the black community. Growing up in the diverse city of Seattle, I’ve had the opportunity to connect with people from a variety of backgrounds, each with unique challenges and perspectives on mental health. This exposure has shaped my understanding of the barriers people face when seeking help and accessing resources. My investigative mindset and desire to understand on a deeper level have driven me toward psychology, where I can work to address these barriers head-on. I know firsthand how life difficulties, such as grief and loss, can affect someone’s functioning in life. I believe that these experiences equipped me with the most determination to aid and lead with empathy for others.

I’ve always loved horror movies. Scream, The Shining, Halloween, The Craft—they never really scared me because I knew they weren’t realistic. No matter how terrifying they seemed on the screen, I could always turn off the TV and return to my normal life. But during high school, life threw me into a nightmare that I couldn’t switch off. It began when my brother passed away during my 7th-grade year. Soon after, I lost both of my grandparents, then my auntie. Suddenly, I wasn’t just watching horror unfold—I was living it. Now, that nightmare has served as the fuel to my fire for the past 6 years. Horror movies taught me that even in a nightmare, there are ways to survive and grow. The nightmare of grief forced me to face hard truths, and in doing so, I gained valuable life lessons. Losing my loved ones taught me that life is fragile, and every moment counts. I realized I had to take control of my time and find healthy ways to cope. One of the most important characteristics of people who survive in horror films is the will to survive. I had that will. I began to fill my life with activities that gave me purpose and connection. I took on the role of student ambassador at my school, leading efforts to ensure the school environment was welcoming for all students. I became captain of my volleyball team and a dance teacher in my church's dance ministry. Through these activities, I began to reclaim my life from the nightmare, finding strength in the very places I once felt trapped. Another thing I learned was the importance of human connection. In horror films, there is usually safety in numbers. Splitting up or isolating almost always ends badly. Yet, this was my first inclination when I found myself in my nightmare. Initially, I turned inward to myself, instead of outward to my community, and it only made things feel darker than they already were. Eventually, I realized that I needed others. I joined a dance company, which allowed me to express my feelings in ways words couldn’t. I took up sports—volleyball, basketball, track, and karate—which pushed me to stay active and connect with others. I explored new interests to better understand myself. In doing so, I found that even in this nightmare, I could make progress. I learned to navigate the pain, using my time to build myself back up instead of letting the grief consume me. Throughout my life journey, I realized that many of the battles I was facing were taking place overwhelmingly in my mind. This eventually led me to discover psychology, a field that resonated with my search for understanding the hidden science behind the conscious and unconscious mind. Psychology helped me to understand how my thoughts, emotions, and actions were all interrelated. The Mental Health Crisis is a serious global issue that is often overlooked, especially in the black community. Growing up in the diverse city of Seattle, I’ve had the opportunity to connect with people from a variety of backgrounds, each with unique challenges and perspectives on mental health. This exposure has shaped my understanding of the barriers people face when seeking help and accessing resources. My investigative mindset and desire to understand on a deeper level have driven me toward psychology, where I can work to address these barriers head-on. I know firsthand how life difficulties, such as grief and loss, can affect someone’s functioning in life. I believe that these experiences equipped me with the most determination to aid and lead with empathy for others.