In Colombia, going to college is a privilege and an opportunity, not a right. It's something kids dream about when they happily talk to their friends about becoming astronauts, engineers, or scientists. But as they grow up, they realize the world is not as colorful as it once seemed. There are bills, family problems, insecurity, and a myriad of adversities that force them to take the first job they can find, not because they want some extra cash for leisure, but because they need it to survive. And so, the dream fades away. My parents didn't have many opportunities growing up. Their parents didn't go to college; one of my grandparents didn't even finish high school. Yet my parents, against all odds, not only went to college but graduated with honors. They faced a thousand challenges and overcame every single one of them. Now, it's my turn. I'm currently a student at Adelphi University, where I'm one of the few students enrolled in one of the first standalone Artificial Intelligence bachelor's programs in the US. Additionally, I'm pursuing minors in both mathematics and biology, which creates a beautifully complex academic focus, equipping me with the knowledge, skills, and context needed to solve the world's toughest problems. Many people find this hard or demanding, but for me it's the least I can do. I'm aware of everything my ancestors had to go through, the adversities they faced, and the sacrifices they made for me to be where I am. So I acknowledge the opportunity, seize the moment, and make the most of it, with gratefulness and passion. At my university, I founded and serve as president of the Adelphi AI Society, a student organization where we created a space for people to learn, explore, and apply artificial intelligence as a way to incentivize creativity and critical thinking. We recognize the potential this technology has to revolutionize every field it touches, and we've made it our mission to provide the tools and knowledge our classmates need to advance their careers and produce positive change. In our first semester we hosted more than 10 events, ranging from prompt engineering and neural network workshops to hackathons and events showcasing the different applications of AI in fields like business, biology, and nursing. We treat this mission with utmost dedication and look forward to continuing to generate the positive impact we have accomplished on campus so far. Moreover, I'm currently involved in three research projects, all of which will be formally published. In the first, we're exploring how well large language models evaluate psychotherapy transcripts compared to human examiners. Using a 5-shot prompting technique, we batch-ran more than 100 transcripts. I built and tested the de-identification pipeline in Python ensuring HIPAA compliance, wrote the script that sends the transcripts with a prompt to proprietary and open-source models, and oversaw the actual run our research depends on. This project was recently presented at the World Congress of Psychotherapy, and I'm deeply honored to have worked on it. The second involves using AlphaFold to predict the structure of the first proteins formed at the origin of life — work that deeply intertwines my three fields of study, AI, biology, and mathematics, while potentially transforming how we understand the beginning of life itself. The third applies ordinary differential equations to disease modeling to build better frameworks for understanding how diseases spread. These are all projects that deeply intrigue me and make me feel like I'm pushing science forward, even if my contributions are drops in a much bigger ocean. In addition to this academic journey, I've also been tested by life in a more personal way. A few years ago, on my 17th birthday, my dad was undergoing surgery as doctors removed a tumor they had discovered shortly before. I was anxious and scared, not knowing what would happen, and I decided to pray, as I hadn't done in so many years. Thankfully, the surgery was successful and they removed the tumor, but upon determining it was malignant, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. This was the start of a demanding 15-month period of my life, marked by pain and faith, which finally culminated in his passing. I share this because it's part of who I am. It's an experience embedded in my very soul that shaped me in ways I'm still discovering. I saw firsthand how ephemeral life really is. How many of the things we worry about are not really worthy of our worry. How, after it is all said and done, the only thing that's left is how much love you spread in the world. And I carry this into every single thing I do. I am unafraid of challenges, unwilling to give up, and driven by a deep, genuine desire to help others. My plan for life is simple. I want to inspire the world by showing them how much of a positive impact you can have in life, if you decide to defy adversity. To do things in a different way. To try, fail, fall, and yet, get back up. To honor the sacrifice of those who came before you. To push forward the boundaries of science by diving into the unknown. I want to prove that it’s possible to change the world, even if you’re just a kid with a dream.

I'm a first-generation immigrant myself. Four years ago, driven by the search for a better future, we decided to embark into the unknown and move to the US. However, there was a problem. My dad had cancer. The disease was discovered around six months before we traveled here, and as a family we had to make a decision: leave or stay. It wasn't easy. The political situation in my home country, Colombia, was about to get worse, and violence, protests, and insecurity were expected to increase severely. So what did we do? We decided to move to the US, just my mom, my sister, and me. My dad would stay in Colombia for his treatment and come occasionally to visit us, and so he did, until the pain didn't let him any longer. It may seem like a cold decision to some. We definitely received some backlash from certain members of our family, but it was the opposite. It was a decision stemmed from love. And it was my father who encouraged it the most. He knew there was no future for us in that Colombia, so he decided his legacy would be to help us make that transition. These are times I naturally try not to think about too much, but every now and then they resurface and bring a flood of emotions with them. Being an immigrant is definitely not easy. In these last few years we have been able to build our lives here, not without challenges of course. At first it was the language barrier, then the loneliness, financial problems, and somehow there always seems to be something. All these challenges, however, have made me stronger. They have given me determination, resilience, and hope. Three beautiful words that may sound corny but are really powerful. It's not something you can buy at the supermarket or something you can study. It's something life makes you feel. It's given, not acquired. And thanks to my life experiences, I have been granted it. Now, I combine that eagerness with education. I'm one of the first students in the US enrolled in a standalone AI major, and I chose to support it with minors in math and biology. It may seem like a random combination to some, but it's actually very deliberate. So far, the greatest application of artificial intelligence has been solving the protein folding problem, which humanity battled with for decades. Now it's incredibly fast and easy to predict the structures of proteins, and this opens the door to treating diseases like Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, and yes, cancer. So, as you can see, it's all connected. I intend to use my education to improve lives. I want to enhance the living conditions of so many people around the world who have gone through hardships like mine. I want to be the person I wish I'd had when I was going through them. I plan to use my education to advance science and technology to the point where diseases like cancer are treatable, and my motivation will get me there. It may sound like an abstract goal, but it's my goal, and I'm going to achieve it.

My father was a first-generation immigrant. He died of cancer four years ago, just as we were establishing ourselves in a new country. My name is Santiago Rodriguez. I was born and raised in Cali, Colombia, and later in life moved to the US, as many others, looking for a better life with better opportunities. I've always been a good student, excelling at mathematics and sciences, winning several competitions when I was a kid, and even participating in different leadership programs while in high school. After all, my dad was a natural leader, so how could I not be one. But nothing prepared me to be the leader my family needed after he passed away. In our hometown, my dad was locally recognized as a natural leader. Since he graduated college, he started working in math initiatives at a university, then went on to public service organizing the electrical grid in our city, and then he took on two major projects. First, the 2013 World Games, and then the 2015 and 2019 editions of the Solar Decathlon. These were huge international projects carried out in Cali, and my father was the one leading, organizing, and troubleshooting everything. The events are regarded as great successes, and to me they are the paved roads that I will one day walk. See, my dad had a lot of public accomplishments, but when I remember him, I do not remember the recognition, I remember the private moments with him. When he explained to me the Pythagorean Theorem. When we used to go to the forest and he would show me how to cook, clean, deal with issues. That's the leadership I remember him for the most. Those moments where he showed pure determination, grit, and courage. When he passed away, we were left in an interesting situation. New country, no connections, and the unknown to be discovered. However, in the most challenging moments, it was the example my dad set for me and the love for my family that got me going. And today, I think it's fair to say we are better than how we started. Yet, the race is not over. There are still challenges to be overcome, and one of those is my education costs. I currently lack the financial means to sustain my education, and that's why I'm applying to this generous scholarship, because I need it. My goal for life is simple. Build products that work for the people, helping them when they need help the most, and maybe, if I do a good job, I will become someone's source of inspiration, helping them overcome the challenges life throws at them, just as my dad helped me.

I didn’t find God on a mountaintop or in a moment of victory. I found Him in the quiet, suffocating space that grief leaves behind. When my family moved from Colombia to the United States, we carried dreams in our hearts and uncertainty in our hands. We hoped this country would be a land of new beginnings, of opportunity and promise. And for a while, it was. But not long after we arrived, my father passed away from cancer. His death was like an earthquake, shaking everything that felt stable in my life. I was just a teenager, but from that moment on, I was no longer just a son or a student. I became the emotional anchor of my household. My mother, now a single parent in a foreign country, worked endlessly to support us. I stepped up in every way I could, helping raise my younger sister, managing the home, learning a new language, and navigating a new culture. In all of this, I discovered that survival alone is not enough. What I needed was peace, strength, and meaning. That’s when I began to pray. At first, I didn’t even know what to say. I just closed my eyes and started talking to God. I cried, I questioned, I begged. But over time, I stopped feeling like I was speaking into the void. I felt something answer me, not in words, but in quiet assurance. I felt a love that didn’t need to be explained. I began reading Scripture, going to church more intentionally, and asking deeper questions. Slowly, I realized I wasn’t looking for religion. I was looking for a relationship. I wasn’t trying to check boxes. I was trying to find the One who could carry the weight I couldn’t. That’s how I found Christ. In the middle of pain, He became my refuge. Not by fixing everything, but by walking with me through it all. His presence turned my sorrow into strength. Faith, for me, was never theoretical. It was survival. It was healing. It was transformation. As I grew stronger spiritually, I also grew more disciplined. I began waking up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and sharpen my mind. I studied with intention and graduated with a 4.0 GPA from Valencia College. I was later accepted into Adelphi University, where I am now pursuing a degree in Artificial Intelligence. I chose AI not because it’s popular, but because I see its power to shape the future. And I want to make sure it’s used with empathy, ethics, and integrity. My goal is to become a leader in ethical AI, to build systems that uplift underserved communities, personalize education, and offer mental health support. I believe technology should never dehumanize. It should reflect the compassion and wisdom we see in Christ. That’s the future I want to help build. To carry that vision further, I also created a YouTube channel called Selah Prayers. On the anniversary of my father’s death, I launched it as a way to give hope to people grieving or searching for peace. I record and share spoken prayers and meditations, drawing from Scripture and personal experience. The channel has reached over 348,000 views. It started as an offering to God and has become a quiet ministry. But as I go deeper into both my faith and my technical education, I realize something more: my greatest calling may be to build the bridge between the two. For centuries, people have treated science and faith as opposites, one focused on what can be measured, and the other on what must be believed. But I believe the future belongs to those who find the harmony between them. AI is not neutral. It reflects the values of those who create it. As believers, we must ensure that these values are rooted in dignity, compassion, truth, and justice. Imagine AI systems that help people pray, that bring Scripture to underserved communities in their native language. Imagine digital chaplains, trained with reverent care, offering comfort to those in hospitals or prisons. Imagine tools that help pastors lead, students learn, and grieving families find peace. Faith without innovation can become stagnant. Innovation without faith can become dangerous. I want to live at the center of that tension and help resolve it. I want to be someone who proves that you can be both deeply Christian and deeply technical, that excellence in STEM is not separate from devotion, but an expression of it. I want to create tools that don’t just impress the world, but that bless it. Tools that help people hear God's voice through modern platforms. Systems that remind us that behind every data point is a human soul. This, I believe, is the new frontier for both ministry and technology. Receiving this scholarship would be more than financial aid. It would be confirmation that the path I’m on — of faith, service, and vision — matters. With tuition costs rising and limited access to funding as an immigrant student, every dollar helps me continue my education without putting more pressure on my mother, who already carries so much. This scholarship would allow me to stay focused on my studies, grow my projects, and continue developing the skills I need to make an impact. In the future, I see myself creating an organization that merges faith, education, and technology. I want to build tools that teach people how to pray, how to process grief, how to grow in their purpose, using the very AI systems I’m learning to master. I want to make technology a servant of the human spirit, not a distraction from it. I also want to write books, speak publicly, and help guide young people who feel lost. I know what it feels like to carry burdens that feel too heavy. But I also know what happens when you give those burdens to God. My life is proof that pain can be transformed, that discipline can be sacred, and that success is nothing without service. My Christian faith is not a section of my life. It is the foundation of everything I do. It’s the reason I work hard, love deeply, and keep going when things get hard. It’s why I believe that every life, every talent, every story has purpose. And it’s why I know that no matter how advanced technology becomes, the human soul will always need what only God can give. This scholarship would help me continue becoming who God has called me to be. And I promise, if chosen, I won’t waste the opportunity. I will honor it with my work, my growth, and my life.

As a first-generation college student studying Artificial Intelligence, my goal is simple: to build a future where technology doesn’t leave people behind — it lifts them up. I’ve always seen the world through a lens shaped by responsibility. My father passed away shortly after we immigrated to the U.S., and everything changed. My mother became a single parent, and I became the one who had to hold the line — not with words, but with action. Since then, I’ve lived by a core truth: discipline and empathy must go hand in hand. I wake up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and prepare my mind — not because anyone is watching, but because I owe it to the people who sacrificed everything for me to be here. That sense of purpose drives how I learn and how I lead. I chose Artificial Intelligence not because it’s popular, but because it’s powerful. The systems we build today will shape how billions live, work, and connect tomorrow. I believe we need a new kind of engineer — one who understands people as well as programming. One who builds with emotional intelligence, not just data. That’s who I’m becoming. As someone who has felt like an outsider in nearly every room — an immigrant, a student with no academic blueprint, a young man navigating grief — I understand what it means to be unseen. And that’s exactly why I want to create technologies that see people. I want to use my skills to build AI that personalizes education for underserved students. I want to design tools that support mental health, not just productivity. I want to lead with a global awareness that recognizes not just technical gaps, but emotional and cultural ones too. When I launched Selah Prayers, a YouTube channel that has now reached over 348,000 views, it wasn’t part of any grand plan. It was an act of service, a response to pain, shared through faith and quiet compassion. It showed me that even something simple, when done with love, can reach the world. This scholarship would allow me to continue developing the skills I need to serve on a global scale. It would free me to focus on mastering the tools of AI while staying grounded in the values that matter most: empathy, purpose, and integrity. The future I’m building is technical, but it’s also human. I’m not just learning how to code. I’m learning how to care at scale.

My greatest achievement wasn’t a moment. It was a decision, one I’ve had to remake every single day since the moment my father passed away. He died of cancer shortly after we moved to the United States, and nothing in my life was ever the same again. We came here with hope. My parents wanted something better for my sister and me. But when my dad was gone, that hope felt like it collapsed overnight. My mom suddenly had to carry everything alone. I had to grow up fast, not emotionally, but spiritually. I had to become someone who could lead myself even when no one else was watching. That’s when I made the most important choice of my life: I chose not to fold. In the face of grief, financial pressure, and cultural transition, I chose discipline. I began waking up every day at 5 a.m. not just to train my body, but to remind myself that if I wanted to build a future, I had to start with my habits. I worked relentlessly in school, eventually graduating from Valencia College with a perfect 4.0 GPA. Now, I’m studying Artificial Intelligence at Adelphi University — not for prestige, but because I want to use this powerful technology to help underserved communities like mine. But more than anything, that decision taught me this: I am capable of turning pain into purpose. That is my greatest achievement, becoming the kind of person who builds with intention, shows up with consistency, and serves from a place of faith, even when life is hard. One of the clearest examples of this was the project I launched last year called Selah Prayers, a YouTube channel I created on the anniversary of my father’s death. It started as a personal act of grief, something I needed to heal, to process, to stay connected to my faith. I recorded prayers, scriptures, and messages of peace. Today, that channel has reached over 348,000 people. I never imagined it would grow like that — but it reminded me that small, quiet acts of faith can ripple far beyond what we see. That’s how I try to live: quietly, but powerfully. With faith. With discipline. With a desire to serve. In the future, I hope to build tools and platforms that apply AI and blockchain in ways that benefit marginalized communities. I don’t just want to be in tech, I want to reshape how tech is used. I want to build educational tools that adapt to students’ learning styles, mental health apps that actually serve real needs, and systems that simplify life for the people who never get considered in design rooms. More personally, I want to give my mom rest. I want to be the one who changes the trajectory of our family, not just financially, but emotionally and spiritually. I want to be a son she doesn’t have to worry about anymore. I want to be someone my sister can look up to, knowing that I made something beautiful out of the hardest thing we ever faced. This scholarship would give me the freedom to keep going, to keep building without the constant anxiety of how I’ll pay for it. But it would also mean something deeper: it would be a sign that the way I’ve chosen to live —with discipline, with faith, with quiet determination — is seen, valued, and worth investing in. My greatest achievement isn’t behind me. It’s in motion. And I’ll carry it forward with everything I’ve got.

Faith is not a part of my life, it is the foundation of it. It informs the way I think, study, build, lead, and dream. Without my faith in God, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And I certainly wouldn’t have the clarity or discipline to pursue the goals I now carry with purpose. When my father passed away from cancer, everything around me felt like it collapsed. We had just moved to the United States seeking better opportunities, and suddenly, the man who had carried our family through every hardship was gone. I was left with grief, confusion, and a weight that felt too heavy to carry. But in that moment of darkness, it was my faith that steadied me. It reminded me that pain could have meaning, and that the best way to honor my father was not through sadness, but through stewardship. That conviction gave me strength. I began to live with discipline and vision. I wake up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and sharpen my mind. I graduated from Valencia College with a 4.0 GPA, and I’m now studying Artificial Intelligence at Adelphi University. But my goal isn’t just to work in AI — I want to use it to serve. I want to build tools that improve education access, support mental health, and help underserved communities thrive. I see my studies not as a path to personal success, but as a mission to carry something forward. My faith also led me to launch Selah Prayers, a YouTube channel I created on the anniversary of my father’s death. I wanted to give others what I needed during my lowest moments: peace, scripture, and a reminder that God is still near. Today, that channel has over 348,000 views. I never expected that. I simply acted in obedience and service. And I’ve learned that when you walk in faith, you often end up serving more people than you ever imagined. Alongside my faith, it’s my family, especially my mother, who has pushed me to pursue higher education. She became the sole provider for our family after my father died. I’ve watched her carry everything with grace and grit. I pursue excellence in school not only for my future, but so that one day, she can rest. So that I can give back what she gave to us: stability, love, and opportunity. My academic and career goals are not separate from my faith, they are an expression of it. I want to live a life that multiplies the good in others. To carry a sense of duty, as Eva Mae Jackson and Patricia Lindsey did. To build with both skill and spirit. This scholarship would not only relieve a financial burden — it would affirm that the way I’ve chosen to live matters. It would allow me to keep pushing forward with the same discipline and devotion that got me here, and continue serving others in ways that are real, lasting, and rooted in something greater than myself.

There’s a certain kind of maturity that comes not from age, but from loss. I grew up in Colombia and moved to the United States in search of better opportunities. Not long after we arrived, my father passed away from cancer. That moment changed me. I didn’t have the luxury of drifting through life anymore. I had to rise, not just for myself, but for my mother and younger sister. I had to become the man my father could no longer be. From that moment on, I began living with purpose. I started waking up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and discipline my mind. I pushed myself in school, earning a perfect 4.0 GPA at Valencia College and transferring to Adelphi University to pursue a degree in Artificial Intelligence. But my dream isn’t just about building a career. It’s about building a life that matters — one defined by service, discipline, and contribution. I’ve learned that strength doesn’t always come from being loud or impressive. Sometimes, it comes from doing the right thing when no one’s watching. That’s how I lead. That’s how I live. I don’t chase comfort. I chase meaning. One of the ways I’ve tried to contribute meaningfully is through a project I started called Selah Prayers, a YouTube channel I launched on the anniversary of my father’s death. It began as a quiet act of grief, a way to honor him and find healing through prayer. I recorded my own voice reading scripture-based prayers and posted them in hopes that someone, somewhere, would find peace. That project has now reached over 348,000 people. And every message I receive, “This helped me sleep,” “I felt closer to God,” “Thank you for this", reminds me that quiet service can have a deep, lasting impact. That’s how I hope to live my life. Not seeking attention, but always creating things that serve others, whether it’s a prayer, a tool, or a moment of hope. I chose to study Artificial Intelligence because I believe it’s the future, but also because I want to help shape that future to serve the people who are most often forgotten. I envision creating technologies that make education more accessible, mental health more supported, and systems more just. I don’t want to just be in the world of innovation. I want to make sure that innovation includes compassion, ethics, and faith. But pursuing that dream isn’t easy. As a first-generation college student from a low-income, single-parent household, I carry not just ambition, but responsibility. My mother works hard to keep us afloat, and every semester brings uncertainty about how I’ll afford tuition. I can’t legally work under my current immigration status. I’ve done everything I can, kept my grades high, applied for scholarships, built meaningful projects, but I need help. This scholarship would be more than financial support. It would be a sign that someone sees the road I’ve walked and believes in where I’m going. It would allow me to focus fully on my studies, continue serving through Selah Prayers, and begin building the next chapter of my dream — one that includes launching an AI project to help underserved students learn more effectively in their own language. I never had the chance to meet Treye Knorr. But I think about the life he could have lived, full of faith, kindness, and potential. I don’t take lightly the opportunity to carry forward the kind of legacy he never got to complete. I would be honored to walk that path with gratitude, discipline, and a lifelong commitment to building something beautiful from the life I’ve been given.

The person who changed my life isn’t here to see who I’m becoming, but everything I do is rooted in what he left behind. My father passed away from cancer shortly after our family moved to the United States. His loss was the most painful moment of my life. I was still a teenager, navigating a new country, a new language, and a mountain of uncertainty. But suddenly, I wasn’t just adjusting, I was anchoring. I had to hold it together for my younger sister, for my mom, and for the dream my father carried across countries: that we would have a better future. That experience reshaped me from the inside out. I stopped asking, “Why did this happen?” and started asking, “What can I build from this?” The grief didn’t disappear — it transformed. And one year after his passing, I launched a YouTube channel called Selah Prayers to honor his legacy. I didn’t start it for attention or recognition. I started it in silence, during a moment of reflection, as an offering, a way to give others what I so desperately needed when I was at my lowest: peace, faith, and a voice reminding me that God was still near. I recorded my own voice reading prayers and scriptures, posted consistently, and watched something beautiful unfold. Today, Selah Prayers has reached over 348,000 views. And every comment from someone saying, “This helped me sleep,” or “I felt God through this,” reminds me that my father’s legacy didn’t end, it multiplied. His death shaped my aspirations by giving me clarity. I am now studying Artificial Intelligence at Adelphi University, but not for prestige. I’m pursuing AI because I want to build tools that serve people, tools that simplify education, support mental health, and bring light into heavy places. I want to be the kind of person who uses innovation not for status, but for healing. Just like my father used his life to support our family quietly and faithfully, I want my work to quietly bless others in ways they may never even trace back to me. I see Selah Prayers as a seed, one I planted out of grief, and one that continues to grow far beyond what I imagined. It has taught me that legacy isn’t about having a name people remember. It’s about doing work that leaves others better than you found them. That’s how I plan to honor my father and how I hope to carry forward the spirit of Lena B. Davis. Quiet, faithful service. Love stitched into every small action. Belief that what we plant in others today can grow into something much greater than we’ll ever see ourselves.

When my father passed away, my world collapsed — but my faith held. And in that quiet, broken space, I found the kind of leadership that doesn’t raise its voice, but lifts others through presence, prayer, and persistence. Faith has shaped every part of my leadership style. It taught me that real leadership doesn’t begin with control, it begins with surrender. It doesn’t start with saying, “Follow me,” but with saying, “I’ll go first, even if it’s hard.” Faith has given me the courage to walk into uncertainty, the humility to serve in silence, and the clarity to keep going when everything else feels lost. A year after my father’s death, I created SelahPrayers4You, a YouTube channel dedicated to helping others find peace and strength through prayer. I started it not as a strategy, but as an act of grief, a way to honor his life and turn my pain into purpose. I wanted to create something I myself needed during the hardest nights: a calm, faith-filled voice in a noisy world. I recorded the prayers with my own voice, carefully crafted each video, and prayed that God would use them to reach whoever needed them most. Less than a year later, SelahPrayers4You has reached over 348,730 views. I never promoted it. I never asked for attention. But God used it, and through it, I learned that leadership through faith doesn’t need a stage. It needs consistency, compassion, and conviction. Every message I receive from someone saying, “This video helped me sleep,” or “This reminded me God is still with me,” is a reminder that spiritual leadership is deeply personal, and often most powerful when it’s invisible. That experience has shaped how I see my future. I’m currently studying Artificial Intelligence at Adelphi University, and my dream is to use AI not just to innovate, but to heal. I want to build tools that support mental health, spread Biblical wisdom, and bring light to those silently struggling. I believe AI can be used ethically and faithfully, not to replace humanity, but to support it. I will carry this leadership style — grounded in prayer, purpose, and presence — into everything I build. Whether it’s through technology, ministry, or everyday interactions, I lead with faith because I know what it means to be lost, and what it feels like to be led back to hope. Jesus said, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” That’s the leadership I strive for, not loud, but luminous. Not forceful, but faithful. And not about me, but about pointing others to something greater.

To me, being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member means using what you have — time, talent, knowledge, perspective — to build something that benefits others, not just yourself. It’s about making your existence count, not only through ambition, but through contribution. Purpose is clarity of direction. I don’t see purpose as something that appears one day, I see it as a choice you make repeatedly. I chose mine the moment I decided to pursue Artificial Intelligence. Not to impress people, but to build systems that empower underserved communities. I believe AI is a powerful tool, and it needs to be used by people who are guided by ethics, empathy, and vision. That’s the role I plan to step into. I’m not here to simply ride the wave of technology. I’m here to help steer it, with human dignity at the center. Responsibility is the weight I carry with pride. My father passed away two years ago, and since then, I’ve had to step up for my family in ways most people never see. I manage myself with extreme discipline, I wake up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and sharpen my mind because I understand what’s at stake. I carry my education like a mission. I don’t just study to get good grades. I study because the future I want to build for my mom, for my sister, for others like me, depends on the skills I master now. But responsibility doesn’t stop at self. I’ve extended it outward through Cálculo Sin Límites, a free YouTube channel I created to teach math and science to Spanish-speaking students who don’t have access to quality resources. I’ve published over 40 videos and continue to build the platform, not for recognition, but because I remember what it felt like to struggle in silence. If I can make the path easier for someone else, I will. Productivity is often misunderstood as busyness. For me, productivity is about building things that matter. I don’t want to stay busy, I want to stay useful. Every project I take on, every challenge I embrace, is tied to a larger vision of impact. Whether it’s leading, creating, studying, or serving, I aim to make my work meaningful, not just efficient. In the future, I’ll embody these qualities by continuing to design and build technologies that reflect my values. I plan to launch ventures at the intersection of AI and social good — platforms that support mental health, transparent governance, and adaptive education. But beyond that, I will continue to serve, mentor, and uplift others wherever I am. Because being a productive member of a community doesn’t end with achievement, it begins with alignment. Alignment with truth, with responsibility, and with the belief that success means little unless others rise with you. This is the life I’ve chosen. This is the legacy I’m building.

Selflessness isn’t something I perform — it’s something I practice daily. For me, it’s not about dramatic gestures. It’s about consistency. It’s about choosing to serve even when no one is watching, and even when you’re carrying your own weight. I’m a student of Artificial Intelligence, and my long-term mission is to use AI to improve systems that impact real lives, education, mental health, and access to opportunity. But even before I stepped into this field, I was committed to lifting others. One of the most meaningful ways I’ve done this is through Cálculo Sin Límites, an educational platform I created to teach math and science to students who don’t have access to quality instruction. I started with nothing but a phone, a whiteboard, and the willingness to teach what I knew. Today, I’ve created and published over 40 videos, entirely free, to help students pass standardized exams and succeed in STEM courses. I respond to comments, update content, and make improvements based on what people need. No one asked me to do it. No one’s paying me to do it. But I do it because I believe knowledge should be accessible, and because I know what it’s like to feel behind. Outside of my own projects, I also make it a point to serve in quieter, less visible ways. Whether it’s helping classmates understand concepts after class, supporting others through emotional challenges, or giving time at local events, I show up. Always. There have been weeks when I was juggling academic pressure, financial stress, and personal hardship, but I still found time to help someone else. That, to me, is the definition of selflessness: giving even when you're not full. Perseverance is also a core part of how I serve. I wake up at 5 a.m. every morning to train, not just physically, but mentally. I believe discipline is a form of respect. It shows you’re serious about your goals and about the people who depend on you. When I commit to something, I follow through, even if it's uncomfortable. Even if it’s inconvenient. Selflessness doesn’t mean you have to abandon your own ambitions. In fact, I believe real impact comes when you align your passion with service. My passion is technology. My mission is to use it in a way that makes people’s lives easier, safer, and more dignified. Michael Rudometkin’s legacy is one of helping others, building meaningful relationships, and creating joy in the process. That’s exactly the kind of life I strive to live, not someday in the future, but right now, one action at a time. This scholarship would not only support my path, it would extend that legacy. And I would carry it with honor, service, and relentless dedication to others.

Life hit me hard early, but I chose to hit back harder. Two years ago, my father passed away from cancer. Not long before that, we had immigrated from Colombia to the U.S., chasing a better future. I arrived in this country with a backpack, broken English, and the weight of my family’s hope on my shoulders. When he died, that weight only grew heavier. Suddenly, childhood ended. The grief didn’t just affect my emotions, it altered my entire sense of responsibility. My future no longer belonged just to me. It belonged to my mother. My sister. To the sacrifices they made. But I didn’t fold. I became the anchor in my family. My mom — now a single mother — worked endlessly to provide, and I became the silent force behind her: helping raise my sister, managing the household, and pushing myself to succeed in a system that wasn’t built for students like me. And yet, I graduated from Valencia College with a 4.0 GPA and transferred to Adelphi University to study Artificial Intelligence, a field I chose not just because it’s the future, but because I want to shape that future for the better. My resilience isn’t theoretical, it’s lived. I wake up at 5 a.m. to train my body and sharpen my discipline. I’ve stayed focused through grief, immigration challenges, financial pressure, and legal limitations. I don’t take shortcuts. I show up, every single day, because I’ve seen what happens when we don’t have the luxury to fall behind. And even with all of that, I’ve never stopped helping others. I started a free educational platform, Cálculo Sin Límites, to teach math and science to underserved Spanish-speaking students. I’ve published over 40 high-quality videos to help students who feel left behind like I once did. I’ve also volunteered with local organizations and community events, always finding ways to show up, give back, and carry someone else when they’re tired. In fact, I consider service a responsibility, not something extra, but something essential. If I’ve been given strength, it’s not just for me. I’m meant to use it. I believe service is the highest form of leadership, and that’s the kind of person I’m becoming. Someone who doesn’t just overcome adversity, but uses it to build bridges for others. Someone who turns pain into power, and then shares it. This scholarship isn’t just financial help. It’s confirmation that my fight, my values, and my impact matter. I’ve proven that I can thrive in the face of adversity. I’ve proven that I will lift others while I rise. And I’ll continue doing both — with excellence, with heart, and with honor.

I’ve battled depression and social anxiety, and for a while, it felt like they were winning. After we moved to the U.S. from Colombia, everything in my life felt like it collapsed at once. My father passed away from cancer. I was in a new country, with a new language, no friends, no direction. I felt stuck in a life that wasn’t mine yet, like I was just floating, invisible, with no control. That’s when the depression hit hard. It wasn’t just sadness. It was emptiness. I stopped feeling like myself. I avoided people. I couldn’t talk to anyone about what I was really going through. I had no energy, no drive, no spark. My grades stayed high, but only because I didn’t let anyone see how broken I felt inside. I suffered in silence, and I know now that’s one of the most dangerous places to be. The turning point came when I realized something simple, but life-changing: my family doesn’t need my depressed version, they need my best version. I looked at my mom, working constantly, carrying the whole family, and I knew I couldn’t stay stuck. I had to fight my way back. Not just for me, but for her. For my sister. For the life we came to the U.S. to build. Since then, I’ve rebuilt myself from the inside out. I started training every morning at 5 a.m. I got back into my studies with purpose. I leaned on my faith. I slowly began to speak, to share, to open up. I realized that strength isn’t about pretending you're okay, it's about deciding to keep showing up, even when you're not. That experience changed everything, including my career vision. I’m now studying Artificial Intelligence because I want to build technologies that serve humans. Depression taught me how invisible suffering can be, and AI, when used ethically, can help support mental health in ways we haven’t yet unlocked. I believe in building tools that catch people before they fall through the cracks. Tools that make life easier, not harder. That’s the kind of engineer I want to be. Depression shaped my beliefs. It deepened my empathy, strengthened my discipline, and sharpened my mission. It taught me how to be present in my relationships, how to listen, how to hold space for others who are struggling. And now that I’ve made it through, I carry a quiet fire inside, not just to succeed, but to lift others while I do. This scholarship would ease a heavy financial burden, but more than that, it would recognize a fight that no one saw, but one I’m proud to have survived. I’m not perfect. But I’m here, I’m focused, and I’m becoming the best version of myself — one day at a time.

I chose Artificial Intelligence because I don’t want to just be a part of the future, I want to shape it. At first, I was drawn to Computer Science because I believed it was one of the most resilient careers. But as I began learning about AI, I realized I was looking at something far bigger than a career. I was looking at a tool that could reshape entire systems: education, finance, healthcare, government, all at once. It was like seeing electricity for the first time and knowing you had to learn how to harness it. That’s what AI is to me. My short-term goal is to master the foundations of AI and get deeply involved in research, competitions, and real-world projects during my time at Adelphi University. I want to build not just technical skill but strategic insight, how to use AI ethically, how to communicate its value, and how to bring others with me. Long-term, I want to become a leader in the AI space: building startups, advising governments, and helping underdeveloped countries implement AI systems that actually solve human problems. I’m also learning about blockchain, because I believe combining AI and decentralized systems is the key to unlocking transparent and fair technology. Being an underrepresented minority in this field isn’t something I carry lightly, especially as a Latino immigrant who moved to the U.S. under an E2 visa. I can’t legally work. I don’t have access to FAFSA. And yet I wake up every morning determined to earn a seat at the table. I don’t see myself represented in the AI world, and that only makes me more committed to changing that. I want to show other hispanic students that this space is for us. That we can not only contribute, but lead. There’s a certain pressure that comes with being the first. But I welcome it. I want to be a reference point, the person who made it so others could see it was possible. And I don’t just want to blend into this field. I want to redefine it with my voice, my culture, my story. This scholarship would directly help me contribute to my 49,000 fall tuition at Adelphi, a number that weighs heavily on my family. My mom is our only provider right now, working hard while going through her own grief. I’ve done everything in my power to keep my grades perfect, to find creative ways to contribute, and to not let financial hardship become a reason to give up. This scholarship isn’t just financial help, it’s fuel. It allows me to keep showing up fully. To keep dreaming big. And to keep proving that where you come from doesn’t define how far you’ll go. AI is changing everything. And I plan to be one of the people changing AI, with wisdom, courage, and purpose.

My long-term career goal is to become one of the world’s leading minds in Artificial Intelligence, not just someone who understands the technology, but someone who reshapes its purpose. I want to use AI to solve real human problems, especially in places where innovation rarely reaches: underfunded schools, broken healthcare systems, and unstable economies. Eventually, I want to launch ventures that combine AI and blockchain to create fairer, smarter systems, from decentralized education platforms to transparent, corruption-proof government tools. I don’t just want to be in the room where change happens. I want to design the room. What drives me isn’t just curiosity, it’s responsibility. I was born in Colombia and moved to the U.S. three years ago under a visa. I’ve watched my mom work endlessly just to keep us afloat. I’ve felt the frustration of being capable but legally unable to work or fully contribute. And I’ve lived the quiet pain of watching my dad pass away from cancer, knowing that no amount of effort or money could save him. Those experiences carved something into me: a deep commitment to use my life for something greater than myself. I believe that intelligence is a gift, not in the sense of being naturally smart, but in the sense of being entrusted with potential. And that gift comes with a moral obligation. For me, that means becoming the kind of person whose knowledge serves, not just succeeds. AI is powerful, but what matters is who wields it and why. I want to be the kind of leader who keeps humans at the center of technology, who builds tools that empower rather than replace, and who protects dignity in a world that increasingly automates it away. One of the values that defines me is discipline. I wake up at 5 a.m. every day to train my body and mind, because I know nothing great happens without effort. Another is faith, not just in God, but in the belief that even the darkest moments serve a purpose. I’ve lost things I never thought I could live without, and yet I’m still here, more determined than ever. That’s why I’m not afraid of the long road. In fact, I welcome it. Success, for me, is being able to provide a better life for my mom and sister, but also showing the world what’s possible when someone from a small town with no connections decides to dream globally. I want to be a symbol of growth. A proof that you can lose, struggle, and still rise, and not just for yourself, but for others. That’s where I’m headed. And I’m just getting started.

I haven’t worked in a bioinformatics lab. But I’ve studied the algorithms that will power its future. My field is Artificial Intelligence, not biology, but I see how the two are converging faster than ever. AI is changing the way we model proteins, understand genetics, and design new drugs. And that’s exactly what drew me in: the opportunity to apply intelligence, human and artificial, to problems that matter at the level of human life. What excites me isn’t just AI’s ability to automate — it’s its ability to understand. To process vast biological datasets, detect subtle patterns no human could find, and make decisions that save time, money, and lives. I want to be part of that. Not by chasing hype, but by mastering the math and logic behind it. Right now, I've completed my Associate’s degree with a perfect GPA, and I’m entering Adelphi University this fall to major in Artificial Intelligence. I’ve already started learning the fundamentals: neural networks, embeddings, machine learning models, and transformers. But I’m not just learning passively, I’m building a framework to teach others what I learn. I’ve outlined over 30 AI-focused educational videos I’ll begin producing this year, explaining complex ideas like computer vision and model training through storytelling and clarity. Not for hype, but because I believe students like me deserve a voice in these spaces. I’m not in a research lab yet, but I’ve studied how AlphaFold revolutionized protein folding, how language models like GPT can be fine-tuned on biological data, and how chain-of-thought prompting is improving reasoning even in medical decision models. These aren’t abstract concepts to me, they’re tools I’m learning now so that when the door opens to work in bioinformatics, I’ll be ready to contribute meaningfully. My long-term goal is to work at the frontier of AI and biology, helping build intelligent systems that improve how we understand the human body. That could mean training models that simulate how cells respond to new compounds. Or developing AI tutors that teach medicine or genetics in low-resource regions. Or launching a startup focused on personalized medicine through AI-driven diagnostics. But more than any specific job, I want to be someone who doesn’t just use AI, but shapes how it’s used. With ethics. With clarity. And with a deep respect for the lives it touches. I’m not the traditional candidate for a bioinformatics scholarship. I didn’t grow up in a lab or spend summers at research camps. I grew up learning how to survive, and then teach myself everything else. But that’s why I’m valuable. I bring drive, independence, and relentless discipline. I don’t quit. I build. I adapt. And I’ve chosen AI not for status, but because I see the future, and I want to help shape it. If I receive this scholarship, I’ll use it not just to study, but to build toward something bigger than myself. A future where more students like me belong in fields like bioinformatics — and where AI becomes a tool for equity, not just efficiency.

I didn’t get interested in computer science because I liked coding. In fact, at first, I didn’t. What drew me in was the possibility of building something meaningful, from nothing but logic, patience, and creativity. My journey started out of necessity. I couldn’t legally work because of my visa, and I needed a way to be productive, not just for myself, but for my family. That’s when I launched my first project: Cálculo Sin Límites, a YouTube channel that now has over 2,000 subscribers. I wrote, recorded, edited, and published 37 SAT Math videos in Spanish to help students like me, those navigating life in a new country, without the resources or support others take for granted. I used free software, borrowed tech, and long nights to make it happen. But it showed me something crucial: technology isn’t just about apps or lines of code. It’s about access, opportunity, and empowerment. That realization sparked my decision to major in Artificial Intelligence, a field I believe will shape the next century. I’m now pursuing a Bachelor's in AI at Adelphi University, with a strong foundation in calculus and physics and a deep passion for using tech to solve real problems. My dream job is to build my own startup, something at the intersection of AI, education, and economic mobility. I don’t just want to work in the tech industry. I want to reshape it from the perspective of someone who didn’t grow up with privilege or connections. Someone who had to teach himself to create when he wasn’t allowed to work. I believe I am the best candidate for this scholarship because I don’t just study hard, I study with purpose. Every decision I make, every hour I spend learning, is driven by the desire to give my mom and sister the life they deserve. I’m not chasing a title or a salary. I’m chasing mastery, so that I can one day build systems that help others break out of the limits placed on them. More importantly, I represent the kind of student this world needs: disciplined, resilient, and quietly ambitious. I don’t rely on luck. I build systems. I adapt, I learn fast, and I execute. I may not have the same resources others do, but I know how to make the most of what I have. And with the support of this scholarship, I’ll be able to keep pushing forward, not just for myself, but for every kid out there who feels like the system wasn’t built for them. I plan to prove that it’s possible to rise, even when the odds are against you, and that when you combine hard work, faith, and the right tools, there are no limits.

When I couldn’t work because of my visa, I decided to build. At the time, I noticed there were almost no high-quality SAT math resources available in Spanish. My friends and community were preparing for one of the most important exams of their lives, but the content wasn’t made for them. They were at a disadvantage, not because they lacked talent, but because the tools didn’t speak their language. So I created Cálculo Sin Límites, a YouTube channel aimed at breaking that barrier. Over winter break, I wrote, recorded, edited, and uploaded 37 SAT math videos entirely in Spanish. I learned to use editing software, mastered YouTube SEO, created thumbnail designs, and structured the videos for clarity and engagement. I optimized everything with zero budget, using just my iPhone and a borrowed laptop. The most powerful part? People actually used it. Students from across Latin America and the U.S. started messaging me. They were thankful. They felt seen. That’s when I understood something simple but life-changing: Technology is the most powerful way to serve people at scale. That experience lit a fire in me, not just for education, but for technology itself. I realized I didn’t need a paycheck to help someone. I just needed a problem and a connection to the internet. Now, I’m majoring in Artificial Intelligence at Adelphi University. I’m learning how neural networks think, how machines see, and how prompts can reshape entire industries. I’m not just interested in AI for the buzz, I’m obsessed with understanding it so I can one day build with it. The same way I created SAT videos to empower my community, I now want to use AI to build tools that empower students around the world. Whether that means tutoring models for underserved languages, tools that teach students through conversation, or platforms that make complex ideas feel human, I know what kind of impact tech can have, because I’ve felt it firsthand. I wasn’t born into privilege. I was born into responsibility. My father passed away from cancer, and I watched my mom carry the world on her shoulders. That pressure could have crushed me, but it made me resourceful. It made me hungry. Tech gave me an outlet for that hunger. AI is now my path. What began as 37 videos for the Hispanic community has evolved into a lifelong mission to master technology and use it for good. I don't just want to participate in the future. I want to shape it, with code, with heart, and with purpose.

It wasn’t just grief, it was responsibility. When my father passed away from cancer, my mother became the sole provider for our family. We moved from Colombia to the U.S. and started from scratch. I watched her work endlessly, without rest, and something in me clicked. I realized early on that if I didn’t rise, we’d sink. Coming from a low-income, single-parent household pushed me to mature fast. I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for life to happen. I had to build. I launched “Cálculo Sin Límites”, a YouTube channel that provides high-quality math education to underserved Hispanic students. Then I created “Selah Oraciones” to uplift people spiritually. Now, I’m rebranding my entire personal platform around Artificial Intelligence and blockchain, not to chase hype, but to turn advanced tech into tools that serve real people. I’m studying AI at Adelphi University, mastering concepts like neural networks, machine learning, and computer vision. I wake up early, study hard, and create content that explains these ideas in ways normal people can understand. I believe the next wave of change belongs to those who can translate power into service, and that’s what I’m preparing for. I’ve lived through loss, instability, and uncertainty. But all of it gave me the one thing no classroom can teach: purpose. My past isn’t a weight, it’s my engine. I don’t want to just succeed. I want to build things that matter, especially for people who feel like they’ve been left behind. That’s why I keep going.

It wasn’t just about grief—it was about survival. Growing up in a single-parent household after my father passed away from cancer was a defining moment in my life. It coincided with our move to a new country, facing financial struggles, and watching my mom carry the weight of everything on her shoulders, which taught me resilience in ways I never expected. I had two choices: let circumstances limit me or use them as fuel to push forward. I chose the latter. Coming from a low-income household gave me an edge. It forced me to stop consuming and start creating. While many people passively wait for opportunities, I’ve learned to build them myself. Life has demanded that I be resourceful, to look for ways to get things done instead of making excuses. That’s exactly what led me to create Cálculo Sin Límites, my YouTube channel that provides free math education to Hispanic students who lack access to quality resources. Instead of complaining about the gaps in education, I took action, producing high-quality videos on calculus and SAT prep that are already helping thousands of students. Beyond Cálculo Sin Límites, I’m diving deep into blockchain and AI, not just to secure my own future but to create opportunities for others. I believe knowledge is power, and I refuse to let my background define my limits. My experiences have shaped me into someone who doesn’t wait for change—I make it happen. And I plan to use everything I’ve learned to empower others to do the same.

Growing up in a single-parent household has shaped my educational journey in ways I never could have anticipated. When my father passed away from cancer two years ago, everything changed. My mom, my sister, and I had to rebuild our lives in a new country, facing financial struggles, immigration challenges, and the weight of an uncertain future. Yet, in the midst of it all, I found an unshakable drive to succeed—not just for myself, but for my family. Education became more than just a path to a degree; it became my way forward. Without the safety net that many others might have, I knew that I had to push myself beyond the average. I worked hard in high school, aced AP Calculus and AP Physics, and secured a spot at Valencia College through the Osceola Prosper program. At first, I underestimated community college, but I quickly realized the immense value it offered. Not only did I have access to incredible resources, but I also learned that success isn’t about where you start—it’s about what you do with the opportunities you have. Balancing school with my personal responsibilities hasn’t been easy. There were moments when doubt crept in, when I questioned whether I was on the right path. But through faith, discipline, and an unwavering belief in my future, I kept moving forward. I structured my life around growth—waking up at 5 a.m. to work out, pushing myself academically, and building projects that align with my long-term goals. From starting a YouTube channel (Cálculo Sin Límites) to help Hispanic students with math, to growing my personal brand and diving deep into blockchain and AI, I’ve made education a lifelong commitment. But for me, success isn’t just personal. It’s about impact. Giving back to my community isn’t an afterthought—it’s my purpose. I’ve already started by volunteering at the Osceola Public Library and creating free educational content for thousands of Spanish-speaking students who lack quality resources. In the future, I want to take it further. Whether it’s through mentorship, building platforms that provide financial and technological education, or even working toward long-term political change in Latin America, my goal is to empower others to break out of the cycles of limitation that hold them back. Coming from a single-parent household has given me an edge—it’s made me resilient, resourceful, and deeply aware of the struggles so many people face. I know what it’s like to feel like the odds are stacked against you. But I also know that with the right mindset, the right values, and the right beliefs, anything is possible. My journey is just beginning, but one thing is certain: I will never stop pushing forward, not just for myself, but for my family, my community, and the people who need a voice to remind them that they, too, can rise.