My “Pie in the Sky” dream is to become an architect who designs spaces that make people feel safe, inspired, and seen. It’s a dream that feels both within reach and impossibly large — the kind that scares me a little because of how much it means to me, but also lights something inside me every time I imagine it. This dream began long before I had the language for it. Growing up in Irvington, I saw how much the environment around you shapes the way you move through the world. Some spaces felt heavy, neglected, or unsafe, while others — even small ones — felt like pockets of possibility. I didn’t know it then, but I was already studying architecture in my own way: noticing how people softened when they entered a warm, welcoming space, or how a well‑designed building could shift the energy of an entire block. I wanted to be someone who created that feeling for others. Moving to the United States from Africa made this dream even more personal. Starting over in a new country was both exciting and overwhelming. I had to learn new systems, new expectations, and new ways of navigating the world. On top of that, dealing with the fear and uncertainty surrounding ICE made it hard to feel grounded. It’s difficult to dream boldly when you’re unsure of your place in the world. But somehow, the instability made my dream clearer: I wanted to build spaces where people like me — people who feel displaced, unseen, or uncertain — could feel rooted and safe. My creativity became my anchor. Through student government, I learned how to advocate for others and use my voice to create change. Through after‑school Cricut design projects, I discovered how much joy I feel when I’m creating something that brings people together. These activities taught me that creativity isn’t just a talent — it’s a tool for connection, leadership, and impact. They shaped the kind of architect I want to become: one who listens, one who cares, and one who designs with community at the center. But dreaming big doesn’t erase the reality I face. As a first‑generation student, the financial pressure of college is heavy. My family and I carry that weight every day. Sometimes it feels like my dream is stretching just beyond what we can afford. Yet I keep reaching for it, because I know what it could mean — not just for me, but for the communities I hope to serve. To reach this dream, I know I’ll need courage, education, mentorship, and a community that believes in me. I’ll need to keep developing my creativity, strengthening my voice, and pushing myself academically. Most of all, I’ll need to hold onto the belief that my dream is worth pursuing, even when it feels out of reach. My “Pie in the Sky” dream is big — but so is my commitment to it. And I’m ready to take every step I can to make it real.

The places we grow up in shape the people we become, and for me, growing up in Irvington taught me two things: communities deserve to feel seen, and creativity can be a form of service. That belief is what drives my dream of becoming an architect who designs spaces that uplift and protect the people who live in them. My journey to this point has not been simple. Moving to the United States from Africa meant starting over in every way—new systems, new expectations, and new responsibilities. I came here to learn and to build a future that my family could be proud of, but the transition has been filled with challenges. Navigating school while supporting my family, adjusting to a new environment, and dealing with the constant fear surrounding my immigration status and ICE has made it difficult to feel secure. It’s hard to focus on your future when your present feels uncertain. Yet even through all of this, I’ve held onto my goals and the belief that education can open doors for me that were never available to my parents. Being a first‑generation student means breaking cycles. It means stepping into opportunities that my family never had access to. It means carrying their sacrifices with me and turning them into something meaningful. For me, earning a college degree isn’t just a personal achievement—it’s a symbol of hope for my family and a foundation for the impact I want to make. My extracurricular activities have played a huge role in shaping who I am. Serving in student government taught me how to advocate for others and use my voice to create change. Leading and participating in after‑school Cricut design projects allowed me to explore my creativity and understand how design can bring people together. These activities helped me discover that I’m at my best when I’m creating something that makes others feel included, supported, or inspired. They also taught me discipline, leadership, and the importance of community—qualities I want to carry into my future as an architect. But pursuing this dream comes with financial challenges. My family and I face significant economic stress, and the cost of college often feels overwhelming. This scholarship would ease that burden in a meaningful way. It would allow me to focus on my academic goals instead of constantly worrying about how we will afford tuition, supplies, or basic needs. It would give me the chance to fully commit to becoming the architect I aspire to be. This scholarship is more than financial support—it’s an investment in a future where I can use my creativity to give back. By supporting me, you’re helping me step into a future where I can design spaces that uplift communities like Irvington and offer others the sense of belonging I’ve always searched for.

The places we grow up in shape the people we become, and for me, growing up in Irvington taught me two things: communities deserve to feel seen, and creativity can be a form of service. That belief is what drives my dream of becoming an architect who designs spaces that uplift and protect the people who live in them. My journey to this point has not been simple. Moving to the United States from Africa meant starting over in every way—new systems, new expectations, and new responsibilities. I came here to learn and to build a future that my family could be proud of, but the transition has been filled with challenges. Navigating school while supporting my family, adjusting to a new environment, and dealing with the constant fear surrounding my immigration status and ICE has made it difficult to feel secure. It’s hard to focus on your future when your present feels uncertain. Yet even through all of this, I’ve held onto my goals and the belief that education can open doors for me that were never available to my parents. Being a first‑generation student means breaking cycles. It means stepping into opportunities that my family never had access to. It means carrying their sacrifices with me and turning them into something meaningful. For me, earning a college degree isn’t just a personal achievement—it’s a symbol of hope for my family and a foundation for the impact I want to make. My extracurricular activities have played a huge role in shaping who I am. Serving in student government taught me how to advocate for others and use my voice to create change. Leading and participating in after‑school Cricut design projects allowed me to explore my creativity and understand how design can bring people together. These activities helped me discover that I’m at my best when I’m creating something that makes others feel included, supported, or inspired. They also taught me discipline, leadership, and the importance of community—qualities I want to carry into my future as an architect. But pursuing this dream comes with financial challenges. My family and I face significant economic stress, and the cost of college often feels overwhelming. This scholarship would ease that burden in a meaningful way. It would allow me to focus on my academic goals instead of constantly worrying about how we will afford tuition, supplies, or basic needs. It would give me the chance to fully commit to becoming the architect I aspire to be. This scholarship is more than financial support—it’s an investment in a future where I can use my creativity to give back. By supporting me, you’re helping me step into a future where I can design spaces that uplift communities like Irvington and offer others the sense of belonging I’ve always searched for.

The places we grow up in shape the people we become — and for me, growing up in Irvington taught me that communities deserve spaces that make them feel safe, inspired, and seen. That belief is what drives my dream of becoming an architect who uses creativity to uplift the very communities that raised me. Architecture has always been more than a career interest. It’s the way I imagine giving back. I want to design buildings and environments that bring comfort, beauty, and belonging to people who often feel overlooked. Irvington showed me how much thoughtful design can change someone’s daily life, and I want to be part of creating that change. My journey here hasn’t been simple. Moving to the United States from Africa meant starting over — new systems, new expectations, new responsibilities. I came here to learn, to grow, and to build a future that my family could be proud of. But even with that determination, the transition has been filled with challenges. Navigating school, supporting my family, and trying to find my place in a new country has taken strength I didn’t always know I had. On top of that, dealing with the uncertainty around my immigration status and the fear connected to ICE has added a layer of stress that most students never have to think about. It’s hard to focus on your future when you’re constantly worried about your present. Yet even through all of this, I’ve held onto my goals. I’ve held onto the belief that education can open doors for me — and that one day, I’ll be able to open doors for others. That’s why this scholarship means so much. It’s not just financial support; it’s relief. It’s the chance to breathe. It’s the ability to focus on my academic goals without constantly worrying about how my family will afford tuition, supplies, or basic needs. It’s the difference between surviving college and truly thriving in it. This scholarship is an investment not only in my education, but in the future I want to build. A future where I use architecture to create spaces that uplift communities like Irvington. A future where my creativity becomes a tool for healing, safety, and belonging. A future where the support I receive today becomes the support I offer others tomorrow. By choosing me, you’re helping me step into that future — one where I can grow, give back, and design a world that reflects the hope I’ve carried with me through every challenge.

The places we grow up in shape the people we become — and for me, growing up in Irvington taught me that communities deserve spaces that make them feel safe, inspired, and seen. That belief is what drives my dream of becoming an architect who uses creativity to uplift the very communities that raised me. Architecture has always been more than a career interest. It’s the way I imagine giving back. I want to design buildings and environments that bring comfort, beauty, and belonging to people who often feel overlooked. Irvington showed me how much thoughtful design can change someone’s daily life, and I want to be part of creating that change. My journey here hasn’t been simple. Moving to the United States from Africa meant starting over — new systems, new expectations, new responsibilities. I came here to learn, to grow, and to build a future that my family could be proud of. But even with that determination, the transition has been filled with challenges. Navigating school, supporting my family, and trying to find my place in a new country has taken strength I didn’t always know I had. On top of that, dealing with the uncertainty around my immigration status and the fear connected to ICE has added a layer of stress that most students never have to think about. It’s hard to focus on your future when you’re constantly worried about your present. Yet even through all of this, I’ve held onto my goals. I’ve held onto the belief that education can open doors for me — and that one day, I’ll be able to open doors for others. That’s why this scholarship means so much. It’s not just financial support; it’s relief. It’s the chance to breathe. It’s the ability to focus on my academic goals without constantly worrying about how my family will afford tuition, supplies, or basic needs. It’s the difference between surviving college and truly thriving in it. This scholarship is an investment not only in my education, but in the future I want to build. A future where I use architecture to create spaces that uplift communities like Irvington. A future where my creativity becomes a tool for healing, safety, and belonging. A future where the support I receive today becomes the support I offer others tomorrow. By choosing me, you’re helping me step into that future — one where I can grow, give back, and design a world that reflects the hope I’ve carried with me through every challenge.

The places we grow up in shape the people we become — and for me, growing up in Irvington taught me that communities deserve spaces that make them feel safe, inspired, and seen. That belief is what drives my dream of becoming an architect who uses creativity to uplift the very communities that raised me. Architecture has always been more than a career interest. It’s the way I imagine giving back. I want to design buildings and environments that bring comfort, beauty, and belonging to people who often feel overlooked. Irvington showed me how much thoughtful design can change someone’s daily life, and I want to be part of creating that change. My journey here hasn’t been simple. Moving to the United States from Africa meant starting over — new systems, new expectations, new responsibilities. I came here to learn, to grow, and to build a future that my family could be proud of. But even with that determination, the transition has been filled with challenges. Navigating school, supporting my family, and trying to find my place in a new country has taken strength I didn’t always know I had. On top of that, dealing with the uncertainty around my immigration status and the fear connected to ICE has added a layer of stress that most students never have to think about. It’s hard to focus on your future when you’re constantly worried about your present. Yet even through all of this, I’ve held onto my goals. I’ve held onto the belief that education can open doors for me — and that one day, I’ll be able to open doors for others. That’s why this scholarship means so much. It’s not just financial support; it’s relief. It’s the chance to breathe. It’s the ability to focus on my academic goals without constantly worrying about how my family will afford tuition, supplies, or basic needs. It’s the difference between surviving college and truly thriving in it. This scholarship is an investment not only in my education, but in the future I want to build. A future where I use architecture to create spaces that uplift communities like Irvington. A future where my creativity becomes a tool for healing, safety, and belonging. A future where the support I receive today becomes the support I offer others tomorrow. By choosing me, you’re helping me step into that future — one where I can grow, give back, and design a world that reflects the hope I’ve carried with me through every challenge.

Growing up in Irvington, I’ve seen how hard it can be for students like me to chase big goals when money is tight and resources are limited. Scholarships like this one aren’t just helpful—they’re necessary. They give students from tough backgrounds a real shot at success, even when the odds feel stacked against us. I was raised by a single mom who works long hours to keep things going. We’ve had our share of struggles—times when bills piled up, and college felt more like a dream than a plan. But I’ve always believed that where you start doesn’t have to decide where you end up. That’s why I’ve worked hard in school, even when things outside of class were stressful. I’ve taken the most challenging classes I could, including AP English, and I’ve kept my grades up while helping out at home. I don’t have a long list of awards or leadership roles, but I’ve stayed focused and determined. I’ve learned how to manage my time, push through setbacks, and keep showing up—even when it’s hard. That’s something I’m proud of. I want to study architecture because I’ve always been drawn to design and how spaces can shape people’s lives. I want to create buildings that feel welcoming and safe, especially in communities like mine. I believe good design shouldn’t only be for the wealthy—it should be for everyone. This scholarship would mean I could focus more on my education and less on how I’m going to afford it. It would take a huge weight off my shoulders and help me keep moving toward my goals. I know I still have a lot to learn, but I’m ready to put in the work. I’m not asking for a handout—I’m asking for a chance. Thank you for the opportunity to express myself.