Mental health has shaped my worldview in profound ways. Both personally and professionally, I’ve seen how invisible struggles affect children and families, and I’ve come to believe that emotional wellness must be prioritized just as much as physical or academic development. These experiences have not only influenced my career aspirations but also deepened my empathy, sharpened my sense of purpose, and guided how I build relationships with others. From early in my career, I was drawn to roles centered on helping others. My first job was as an assistant in a local daycare, where I quickly noticed troubling patterns. Some children—despite showing no obvious academic or behavioral challenges—were clearly struggling. Anxiety, social difficulties, and emotional overwhelm often went unnoticed because they didn’t draw attention to themselves. These children were frequently misunderstood or overlooked. A pivotal experience occurred when I witnessed a family member fall through the cracks of the school system. Despite their best efforts, the adults around them failed to recognize the emotional support they needed. Watching this unfold was painful—and transformative. That experience shifted my mindset from frustration to action and ultimately inspired me to pursue a career in mental health and social work. Over time, I’ve learned that compassion is only part of the equation. Effective support also requires professional training, collaboration, and a deep understanding of systems. In my roles with the Yachad summer vocational integration program and as a CFTSS (Community and Family Treatment Support Services) provider, I’ve worked with children and families facing emotional, behavioral, and environmental challenges. These experiences have reinforced my belief that mental health must be addressed holistically—within the full context of a person’s life. I graduated with a 3.6 GPA in my undergraduate psychology program, which reflects both my academic commitment and my drive to understand the human experience. I’m now pursuing my master’s in social work with the goal of becoming a school social worker who advocates for students whose mental health needs often go unnoticed. I’m particularly interested in trauma-informed care, collaborative intervention planning, and Internal Family Systems (IFS)—a therapeutic model that explores the parts of the self that drive behavior. One important choice I’ve made is to complete my education debt-free. For me, this is about more than finances—it’s about freedom. By avoiding student loans, I’ll be able to focus on the work I care most about: helping children and families. I’m committed to building a sustainable career that allows me to give fully to others without the burden of financial stress holding me back. I also recognize that being effective in this field requires strong self-awareness. Through reflection and personal growth, I continue to strengthen my emotional regulation and ensure that I show up for others with balance and presence, even in high-stress situations. I draw inspiration from my Jewish values, especially the belief that every person has inherent worth. I reject labels like “difficult” or “stubborn” and instead ask: What is this child trying to communicate through their behavior? That mindset of curiosity and compassion shapes my approach every day. With the support of this scholarship, I’ll continue pursuing this work with integrity, resilience, and purpose. I hope to be a steady, compassionate presence—an advocate who listens deeply and helps create systems where every child has the opportunity to thrive.

My journey toward art therapy began with a simple but powerful realization: many children don’t have the words to express what they’re going through—but they do have ways to show it. Through years of working with children in classrooms, daycares, and therapeutic settings, I saw again and again how behavior was often a form of communication. Whether a child was acting out, withdrawing, or simply not engaging, there was always more beneath the surface. I began to notice that when given a creative outlet—drawing, painting, or even just scribbling—children opened up in ways that words didn’t allow. As a Child and Family Treatment Support Services (CFTSS) provider and someone who has worked in a range of educational environments, I’ve supported children facing anxiety, trauma, loss, and major life transitions. Many of them couldn’t articulate what they were feeling, but their art often revealed what they didn’t yet know how to say. During the COVID-19 pandemic, art became one of the most important tools I had for managing stress and maintaining emotional balance. When everything felt uncertain and overwhelming, I turned to creative activities—drawing, and painting—as a way to process my emotions and create a sense of calm. Art offered a safe outlet for feelings that were difficult to express in words. It wasn’t about producing something perfect—it was about showing up for myself, staying grounded, and finding peace in the creative process. That experience deepened my appreciation for how powerful art can be as a form of self-care and emotional regulation, and reinforced my belief in its value as a therapeutic tool for others. Art therapy allows children to explore their feelings safely and at their own pace. It helps them process what has already happened—such as a loss or trauma—and prepare for what is to come, whether that’s a move, a family change, or a stressful event. Art gives children a way to understand their own emotions while feeling empowered, not overwhelmed. It also allows caregivers and professionals to gain insight into the child’s inner world without forcing uncomfortable conversations. As I continue my education in social work, I hope to integrate art therapy into my future practice, especially in school settings. My goal is to create trauma-informed environments where children can use creativity as a means of self-expression and healing. I am especially passionate about reaching children who are often overlooked—those who are quiet, compliant, or high-functioning but still struggling internally. Long-term, I hope to pursue formal training in art therapy and become certified so I can use these techniques as part of my clinical work. I also hope to advocate for greater inclusion of art-based interventions in schools, especially for children dealing with anxiety, behavioral challenges, or life transitions. Art therapy is more than just drawing—it’s a language. It’s a way for children to say, “This is how I feel,” when they don’t yet have the words. I want to be someone who helps them speak that language and feel understood.

One issue that matters deeply to me is the way children’s mental health—particularly in school settings—is often overlooked or misunderstood. I’ve seen firsthand how many students with emotional, social, or behavioral struggles fall through the cracks, not because their needs are invisible, but because they are not disruptive enough to draw attention or don’t fit a clear diagnostic category. This issue is not just about individual well-being—it impacts families, schools, and communities at large. I believe that supporting these children early is one of the most effective ways to create long-term, positive change. My personal experience with depression and anxiety, which began in my teen years and continued into adulthood, has given me a deep sense of empathy for those who suffer in silence. I know what it feels like to try to appear “fine” on the outside while feeling overwhelmed internally. This lived experience has shaped how I view others, especially children, and inspired me to become a social worker focused on school-based mental health support. Professionally, I’ve spent many years working with children and families in various capacities, from early childhood education to my current role as a Community and Family Treatment Support Services (CFTSS) provider. I also worked with teens through the Yachad summer vocational program. In each of these roles, I’ve been able to support young people dealing with complex emotional and behavioral issues. I’ve helped families navigate school systems, build emotional regulation strategies, and access community resources. Though these contributions may seem small, they are meaningful—each time a child feels heard, a parent feels less alone, or a teacher better understands a student’s needs, a ripple of change begins. Moving forward, I plan to use my social work education to deepen and expand this impact. My goal is to become a school social worker specializing in trauma-informed care and early intervention. I want to advocate for children who are struggling quietly, to equip schools with tools for social-emotional learning, and to support families who feel overwhelmed and under-resourced. I also hope to explore systemic solutions, such as helping schools develop more inclusive and emotionally responsive discipline policies. One approach I’m particularly interested in is Internal Family Systems (IFS), which offers a compassionate framework for understanding complex internal experiences. I believe this model has great potential for working with both children and caregivers, and I hope to gain further training in it as part of my professional development. Ultimately, I see my role not just as a helper but as a bridge—between students and teachers, families and schools, emotions and understanding. I want to help shift the way schools respond to children’s emotional needs, moving from a reactive model to a proactive, supportive one. Creating positive change doesn’t always require dramatic action. Sometimes it starts with showing up consistently, listening deeply, and believing in someone when they don’t yet believe in themselves. That’s the kind of difference I want to make—and the kind of community I hope to help build through my work.

My passion for women’s health is rooted in both personal experience and professional purpose. As someone who has lived with depression and anxiety from adolescence into adulthood, I have come to understand how often women’s mental health needs are minimized or misunderstood. These personal experiences shaped my worldview and inspired me to pursue a career in social work, where I hope to focus on the intersection of mental health, trauma, and gender. Professionally, I’ve worked in early childhood education, served as a Community and Family Treatment Support Services (CFTSS) provider, and participated in programs like Yachad, where I supported children and families navigating emotional, behavioral, and environmental challenges. In all of these roles, I saw how women—especially mothers—were often left to hold the weight of a child’s well-being, often while dealing with their own unaddressed mental health needs. Whether it was a mother managing her child’s IEP with little support, or a teenager struggling silently with anxiety while trying to meet impossible standards, I began to see how societal expectations deeply shape the emotional burden that women and girls carry. These experiences made me realize that women’s health cannot be separated from broader issues of equity, mental health, and social support. Too often, women are taught to downplay their symptoms, push through their pain, or put others’ needs before their own. This leads to delayed diagnoses, untreated trauma, and a cycle of silence that impacts not only individuals, but families and communities as a whole. My goal as a future social worker is to be part of breaking that cycle. I want to provide trauma-informed, compassionate care to women and girls—particularly those who have been overlooked, misdiagnosed, or underserved. I hope to specialize in school social work with an emphasis on adolescent girls' mental health, where I can advocate for earlier intervention and emotionally responsive educational environments. Over time, I’d also like to work more broadly in women’s mental health, possibly contributing to community-based programs that address perinatal mental health, trauma recovery, and access to holistic, culturally sensitive care. I’m particularly interested in the role that trauma plays in shaping emotional development and physical well-being, and how early intervention in schools can change outcomes later in life. I also want to explore therapeutic approaches like Internal Family Systems (IFS), which can empower women to understand and integrate different parts of their experiences—especially after trauma. What inspires me most about women’s health is the potential for change. When women are supported—mentally, emotionally, and physically—they thrive, and their strength uplifts entire communities. I want to be part of that change, using both my lived experience and clinical training to advocate, educate, and support others on their journey toward healing. While I don’t yet have published research or a personal website to link to, my work has always centered on one mission: to create safe, supportive environments where people, especially women and children, are seen and heard. I am committed to growing in this field, continuing my education, and contributing meaningfully to women’s health at both individual and systemic levels.

My relationship with mental health is both personal and professional. As a teenager, I struggled with depression and anxiety—challenges that continued into adulthood. For a long time, I didn’t have the words to explain what I was feeling, and even when I did, it was difficult to find support that truly understood or validated my experience. Living with mental health challenges shaped how I see myself, how I relate to others, and ultimately, the kind of work I feel called to do. These experiences have deeply influenced my goals. I know what it feels like to be overwhelmed, isolated, or dismissed—and I never want a child or family to feel that way on my watch. My own journey made it clear that emotional health isn’t a luxury—it’s essential. That understanding pushed me toward social work, where I can use both my lived experience and professional training to offer others the support I once needed. Working in early childhood education, and later as a CFTSS provider and Yachad staff member, I encountered many children who reminded me of my younger self—quietly anxious, deeply sensitive, and often misunderstood. I recognized the signs that others might have overlooked, and I was able to respond with empathy and intention. My own mental health struggles gave me insight into what these children needed: to feel safe, seen, and supported. My experiences have also reshaped my relationships. I’ve learned to be more open, to ask for help, and to listen without judgment. I understand now that people often carry invisible burdens, and this awareness helps me connect with others in a deeper and more compassionate way. Most importantly, my experiences have shown me that healing is possible—and that no one should have to go through it alone. That belief is at the heart of my desire to become a social worker: to create safe spaces for others to grow, to advocate for mental health awareness, and to walk with people through their most vulnerable moments with strength and compassion.

Mental health has played a major role in shaping who I am and the direction I’ve chosen for my life. For much of my early life, I was the quiet, easy kid—the one who followed the rules, kept to herself, and didn’t cause problems. I got good grades and didn’t draw attention. On the surface, everything looked fine. But on the inside, I was struggling in silence. In high school, I began experiencing anxiety and depression, although I didn’t have the words to describe what I was going through at the time. I constantly felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and like I was failing, even when I was doing everything “right.” Because I didn’t act out or speak up, my struggles were often overlooked by adults around me. I learned to hide what I was feeling and pushed myself to just get through each day. Eventually, I started therapy. Taking that first step was difficult—I worried about what others would think and whether my feelings were even valid—but it became a turning point in my life. Therapy gave me the space to be honest, to explore what I was experiencing, and to learn how to cope. I started to understand that I wasn’t weak or broken, but someone dealing with real challenges that deserved care and attention. That experience changed the way I saw myself—and the world around me. I became more aware of how many people, especially young people, are quietly struggling just like I had. It made me passionate about mental health awareness and about being someone who could help others feel seen, heard, and supported. This is what led me to study social work. I knew I wanted to be part of a system that supports healing, especially for those who often get overlooked. I want to work with children and teens, particularly the ones who seem fine on the outside but are carrying so much inside. I want to be someone who notices the signs others might miss, who creates safe spaces for people to be honest about their feelings, and who helps connect them with the tools and support they need to grow. My own experiences with mental health are not just something I’ve been through—they’re the reason I care so deeply about this work. I know what it’s like to feel invisible, to carry pain in silence, and to struggle with asking for help. And I know how life-changing it can be to have even one person take the time to truly listen. That’s the kind of social worker I hope to be.

I’ve always known I wanted to help others. From a young age, every career I considered revolved around service. While the specifics evolved, my core motivation—to make a meaningful difference—remained constant. What I lacked were the tools to make that impact effectively. Early in my career, I worked with young children in daycare and school settings. I started as an assistant and eventually held both teaching and administrative roles. During this time, I noticed a recurring issue: many children with subtle emotional or social challenges were being overlooked. These weren’t children with obvious academic delays or disruptive behavior. Rather, they were anxious, withdrawn, or quietly struggling—falling through the cracks because they didn’t “cause problems.” It’s easy to point fingers—at teachers, schools, parents, or systems. But blame doesn’t support educators or equip families. I came to realize that if I wanted things to change, I couldn’t just critique the system—I had to become part of the solution. A pivotal moment was witnessing a close family member be misunderstood and dismissed within the school system. That experience sparked my journey into social work. My goal is to become a school social worker focused on supporting children who are often missed by traditional educational models. Earning my B.A. was the first step toward entering an MSW program, where I hope to gain clinical, policy, and systems-level expertise. I want to help build emotionally supportive, inclusive school environments where all children—not just the obvious ones—can thrive. One of my main areas of interest is trauma-informed care. Childhood trauma can disrupt emotional and behavioral development, often leading to difficulties that go unrecognized. Through clinical training, I aim to develop strong assessment and intervention skills that allow me to identify and respond to these issues with compassion and clarity. I am particularly drawn to the Internal Family Systems (IFS) model for its nuanced, respectful approach to understanding inner emotional dynamics. I believe it holds great promise for working with children struggling with complex emotional issues. In addition to my background in early childhood education, I’ve worked with the Yachad summer vocational program for teens and currently serve as a Community and Family Treatment Support Services (CFTSS) provider. Both roles have deepened my understanding of how emotional, behavioral, and environmental factors interact—and how effective support must consider the whole person, not just isolated behaviors. I believe that labeling children as “stubborn” or “troublemakers” is unproductive. Instead, we should strive to understand what drives their behavior in order to find meaningful solutions. I also believe discipline should be developmentally informed and constructive, not punitive. A well-informed social worker can bridge the gap between families and schools, helping both parties create environments where children feel safe, seen, and supported. I hope to be a voice for empathy, a guide for resilience, and a partner in change. Whether in a school, a home, or a broader policy context, I am committed to ensuring every child has the chance to thrive.

I deserve this scholarship because I am deeply committed to using my education to serve others, especially students facing adversity. As someone raised by a single mother with limited resources, I understand the challenges that can disrupt a young person’s education and self-esteem. These experiences have shaped my passion for becoming a school social worker—someone who can be a stable, supportive presence for children navigating difficult circumstances. I hold a bachelor’s degree in psychology and am now pursuing social work with a clear goal: to provide mental health support and advocacy within schools. What gives me an advantage is my strong sense of purpose, my lived experience, and my commitment to graduating without debt. I am intentionally taking my time through school, working part-time to fund my education without loans. This financial responsibility reflects how seriously I take this opportunity. I’m not asking for help without a plan. I’ve carefully built a path that prioritizes long-term service and sustainability. This scholarship would not only reduce financial pressure—it would help me stay focused on becoming the kind of social worker who shows up with full energy and heart for every student I meet. Supporting me is an investment in someone who is ready and determined to pay that support forward, every single day.

One of the most important things I want to build is a meaningful and lasting career in social work, with a focus on serving students and families in school settings. I want to create a life where my work has purpose beyond a paycheck—where I wake up each day knowing that I’m contributing to something bigger than myself. For me, that means being a support system for children who are struggling, whether due to poverty, trauma, or family instability. I want to be the kind of adult I needed when I was growing up: someone who listens without judgment, offers guidance, and believes in a young person’s potential even when they can’t see it themselves. This goal is deeply personal. I was raised by a single mother and witnessed firsthand the emotional toll financial hardship can take on a family. I also know what it’s like to feel invisible in a school system that doesn’t always have the resources to help every student. These experiences shaped my empathy, my drive, and my belief that early intervention and consistent support can change the course of someone’s life. To build this future, I am taking deliberate steps. I’ve already earned a bachelor’s degree in psychology and am now pursuing further education in social work. I’m moving forward carefully and intentionally—balancing my studies with financial responsibility so that I can graduate without student debt. This matters to me because I want to enter the field fully present and focused, not weighed down by financial stress. Building a career in school social work will allow me to be part of a larger effort to create more equitable and compassionate learning environments. I hope to build trust with students, collaborate with educators, and empower families with the tools they need to thrive. The ripple effects of that work can be powerful: when students feel safe and supported, they are more likely to succeed academically and emotionally, and they carry that stability into their communities. Ultimately, I want to build a future rooted in service, empathy, and resilience. By investing in my education and staying true to my values, I hope to be a positive force in the lives of others—and in doing so, continue growing into the person I’ve always wanted to be.

Growing up with a single mother who was also a teacher profoundly shaped my character, values, and aspirations. My mother didn’t just raise me—she educated me, inspired me, and modeled resilience and purpose through her dual roles at home and in the classroom. Watching her balance the responsibilities of parenthood with the demands of teaching gave me a front-row seat to what it means to serve others selflessly, and to lead with both strength and compassion. My mother’s days often began before the sun rose and ended well after I was asleep. She poured her energy into creating lesson plans, grading papers, and supporting her students—many of whom faced challenges at home much like we did. Yet no matter how long her day had been, she always made time to help me with my homework, listen to my thoughts, and encourage my dreams. Her belief in the power of education wasn’t just something she taught in school—it was something she lived every single day. Being raised by an educator taught me the value of knowledge, not just as a means to personal success, but as a tool for empowering others. My mother believed deeply in the potential of every student, and she brought that same belief into our home. Even when resources were scarce or times were tough, she never let me feel limited. Instead, she challenged me to think critically, stay curious, and always strive to grow. That mindset became part of who I am. Living in a single-parent household also meant I became independent and emotionally aware from an early age. I saw the weight my mother carried as she juggled financial stress, the emotional demands of her students, and the responsibilities of raising a child on her own. But she never let it break her spirit. Her strength taught me to face obstacles head-on and to find meaning even in difficulty. Watching her show up for her students, many of whom lacked support at home, gave me a deep respect for educators and the role they play in shaping lives. What struck me most, though, was how much my mother cared—not just about academic achievement, but about her students as people. She went out of her way to connect with them, to understand their lives, and to advocate for them when no one else would. That deeply human approach to service is what inspired me to pursue a career in social work. I want to carry forward the values my mother lived out daily: compassion, advocacy, and belief in others’ potential. Growing up with a single mother who was also a dedicated teacher gave me more than just an appreciation for education—it gave me a lifelong example of how to lead with heart and purpose. Her influence is at the core of who I am, and it continues to guide me as I seek to make a difference in the lives of others, just as she did every day in the classroom and at home.

Growing up with a sibling who lives with multiple chronic medical conditions has shaped my worldview in profound ways. While I haven’t personally experienced these health challenges, I have witnessed the day-to-day realities that come with them—frequent hospital visits, unpredictable symptoms, and the emotional toll that long-term illness can take on a person and their loved ones. This experience has become a quiet but powerful force in my life, influencing the way I see others, the way I handle adversity, and the path I’ve chosen for my future. Living in a household where someone is always managing pain, appointments, and limitations has taught me patience, empathy, and resilience. I learned early on that strength isn’t always loud or visible—it often looks like getting up again after a difficult night, advocating for yourself when your needs are overlooked, or showing up for others when you’re running on empty. These lessons have shaped my character and continue to motivate me every day. At times, it has been difficult to balance the emotional weight of my sibling’s struggles with my own life goals. There have been moments when I felt guilty for being healthy, or when I had to put my own needs aside to help care for my family. But over time, I’ve learned to transform those emotions into something purposeful. Rather than let the weight of these experiences hold me back, I’ve chosen to let them ground me. I’ve developed a deep sense of responsibility—not just to my family, but to the broader community. I want to use the strength I’ve gained to help others navigate their own challenges. What inspires me most is my sibling’s perseverance. Despite constant setbacks, they continue to dream, laugh, and live with hope. That resilience reminds me that we are not defined by our limitations, but by the way we face them. It pushes me to excel in my studies, to show up fully in every opportunity I’m given, and to use my voice for those who may not be heard. My goal is to become a social worker who advocates for people and families navigating difficult health and life circumstances. I want to be someone who listens deeply, supports compassionately, and empowers others to find their strength—even when things feel overwhelming. I believe that every person deserves to be seen beyond their diagnosis and supported in a way that honors their dignity and individuality. Receiving this scholarship would not only ease my path to becoming a social worker—it would allow me to carry forward the lessons I’ve learned through my sibling’s journey. It would help me continue turning pain into purpose and ensure that I can dedicate my life to making a meaningful difference in the lives of others.

I am pursuing a degree in the mental health field because I want to help children who are falling through the cracks of the systems meant to support them. Through my experience working in schools and early childhood education settings, I’ve seen how often emotional and behavioral challenges in children are misunderstood, ignored, or handled in ways that unintentionally cause harm. I want to be part of changing that pattern—not just by offering empathy, but by becoming equipped with the skills and training to make a meaningful difference. As a teacher and program assistant, I often worked with children who struggled with self-regulation, anxiety, and social difficulties. Some were quiet and withdrawn, others acted out, but what they had in common was that their deeper emotional needs were rarely addressed. In many cases, the responses focused on compliance rather than connection. I started to realize that no matter how strong a curriculum or routine may be, if a child doesn't feel emotionally safe and supported, they can't thrive. That realization planted the seed for my transition into the mental health field. My personal experiences also shaped this direction. Watching a close family member navigate a school system that lacked the tools to understand or support them was painful and eye-opening. They weren’t “difficult”—they were hurting. But without the right language, support, or interventions, their needs went unmet for years. It left me with a strong sense of responsibility to be part of creating systems that truly see and support the whole child. As I continue my path toward becoming a clinical social worker, I am especially interested in trauma-informed care, child development, and school-based mental health services. My goal is to become a school social worker who not only responds to crises but also helps prevent them through early identification, consistent emotional support, and collaboration with families and educators. I want to be someone who can look beyond behavior to understand what a child is experiencing—and help others do the same. In my current work providing community-based mental health services, and in my past experiences with youth vocational programs, I’ve seen how impactful it is when young people feel truly seen and supported. Whether it’s helping a teenager build self-confidence through meaningful work or supporting a child through emotional regulation strategies, I’ve learned that presence, patience, and genuine care are powerful tools—but they’re even more effective when paired with professional training. Pursuing a degree in this field is about gaining the knowledge and structure I need to offer not just support, but real solutions. I want to help children and families access the resources they need without shame, without stigma, and without having to fight to be understood. I want to be a calm, reliable adult for children who feel lost. And I want to help shift our systems from reactive to responsive, from punitive to compassionate. This isn’t just a career goal for me—it’s a mission. I believe that with the right support at the right time, children’s lives can be changed. I want to be part of that change.

While I have not personally struggled with substance abuse, I’ve spent a significant amount of time learning about its impact through academic study and personal reading. One of the most important insights I’ve gained is that substance use often serves a purpose beyond recreation or rebellion—it fills a void, soothes emotional pain, or helps someone survive a reality that feels too difficult to face. In that sense, drugs often “work”—not because they are a true solution, but because they temporarily ease the deeper pain beneath the surface. This understanding has had a profound effect on how I view addiction, human behavior, and my goals as a future mental health professional. Rather than seeing substance abuse as a character flaw or personal weakness, I’ve come to understand it as a coping mechanism—one that may have grown out of trauma, mental illness, or emotional neglect. That doesn’t mean the behavior is harmless, but it shifts the conversation from blame to compassion. If we want people to stop relying on substances, we have to ask: what need is the substance meeting? And how can we help meet that need in a healthier, more sustainable way? This perspective has shaped my beliefs about people, relationships, and support systems. It’s easy to view someone’s destructive choices as senseless or selfish, especially from the outside. But in reality, we never know what another person is carrying. I’ve become more attuned to the idea that every behavior has a story behind it. Judging how people or their families react to mental health or addiction challenges—without knowing their history or emotional landscape—is both short-sighted and unhelpful. These ideas have strongly influenced my career goals. As a future social worker, I want to support children and families in a way that addresses root causes, not just surface behaviors. I want to be part of creating environments—especially in schools—where emotional needs are recognized early, and students are given tools to manage their inner world before those needs turn into harmful patterns. I’m especially interested in trauma-informed care and therapeutic models that prioritize self-awareness and emotional healing. While I haven’t experienced addiction firsthand, my academic exploration has given me a strong sense of the complexity and humanity behind it. I believe that helping people heal—not just stop using—is the most effective and compassionate way forward, and that’s the approach I intend to carry into my professional life. Ultimately, I believe true recovery begins with compassion and understanding. As a future social worker, I’m committed to helping people heal, not just change their behavior.

Managing mental health while pursuing an education is a constant balancing act. My experiences with anxiety and depression have taught me the importance of creating space for both emotional well-being and academic growth. Living with anxiety and depression has shaped the way I approach both my academic and personal life. While I’m deeply committed to my education and future career, I’ve had to learn how to balance that drive with the need to care for my mental health. Some days bring more energy and focus than others, and I’ve come to accept that my capacity may fluctuate—and that’s okay. The key is maintaining enough structure and support to stay grounded, even when things feel overwhelming. In school, my anxiety can sometimes make it difficult to start or prioritize tasks, especially when I’m feeling uncertain or worried about outcomes. Depression, on the other hand, can sap my motivation or make even small responsibilities feel like big hurdles. I’ve learned to manage these challenges by building a consistent routine that helps keep me steady. Routine is critical for me—not just to stay organized, but to keep my mind from spiraling when things feel out of control. Even something as simple as starting my day with a short walk or making time to sit outside helps shift my mindset. Another step I take to support my mental health is being intentional about doing things I genuinely enjoy. It’s easy to fall into the trap of always trying to “push through” when school gets busy, but I’ve found that neglecting joy and creativity only makes things harder. I make time for hobbies and simple pleasures, which recharge me and remind me of who I am outside of my responsibilities. Therapy is also a non-negotiable part of my self-care. I make it a point to show up to my sessions consistently and be actively engaged, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient. Therapy gives me space to reflect, recalibrate, and process whatever I’m dealing with so I can stay emotionally present in other areas of my life. I also lean on my support system. Spending time with family and friends who know me well—people I feel safe and relaxed around—is a key part of staying emotionally well. They remind me of my strengths, help me laugh, and offer perspective when I’m feeling stuck. Ultimately, I’ve learned that prioritizing mental health isn’t a distraction from academic success—it’s what makes it possible. By caring for my well-being, I’m better able to show up for myself, my studies, and the people I hope to serve in my future career.

Throughout my adolescence and adulthood, I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression. It took years to even understand what I was experiencing, and longer still to figure out how to manage it. Some years are better than others, but I’ve come to accept that mental health is a journey, not a destination. That understanding has shaped both who I am and the work I feel called to do. I also have some family members who have struggled with various mental health diagnoses—challenges that were never acknowledged or addressed when they were younger. Instead, they’ve had to work to overcome them throughout their lives, often without the support or resources they needed. Watching this unfold has made me deeply aware of the impact that untreated mental health issues can have over time. I’ve seen how these struggles can affect everything—relationships, self-worth, career choices, and especially how one functions within the family system. Something I’ve learned over the years is how easy it is to judge someone’s reactions to mental health challenges—especially within families. It’s tempting to label someone as “dramatic,” “unreasonable,” or “cold” without recognizing that these behaviors may be protective responses to pain or trauma. When family members don’t know how to cope, their reactions can sometimes seem harsh or distant, but judging those reactions without understanding the emotional history behind them is short-sighted and ultimately unhelpful. We rarely know what’s really happening behind closed doors or what someone has carried for years in silence. These personal experiences are part of what led me to work with children and families in various educational and mental health settings. I started out in early childhood education, where I quickly noticed how many children were dealing with anxiety, emotional regulation issues, or social challenges that went unrecognized by teachers and caregivers. These kids weren’t failing academically or misbehaving—they were just quietly struggling. I wanted to be someone who saw them. I later worked as a mentor in Yachad’s summer vocational program and currently serve as a Community and Family Treatment Support Services (C.F.T.S.S.) provider. In these roles, I support children and teens dealing with emotional and behavioral challenges, trauma, and complex family dynamics. These experiences have reinforced what I already knew: that support must go beyond surface behaviors and address the full context of a person’s life. Now, as I pursue a Master’s in Social Work, my goal is to become a school social worker and advocate for children who are too often overlooked. I want to be equipped with the tools to offer meaningful support—through trauma-informed care, clinical assessment, and family-centered intervention strategies. I’m particularly drawn to Internal Family Systems therapy and approaches that emphasize self-awareness and emotional regulation. Mental illness has touched both my personal and professional life in deep ways. But rather than letting it define me, I’m using it to fuel a career centered on empathy, understanding, and change. I want to help children and families feel seen, supported, and empowered—because I know firsthand how much that can mean.

I’ve always been drawn to helping others, especially those whose needs often go unnoticed. While working in schools and early childhood settings, I began to notice a troubling pattern: many children were struggling emotionally or socially, but their issues weren’t always visible. These children were often quiet, well-behaved, or academically average—so their needs were overlooked. I wanted to change that. I’ve since worked to support mental health in both formal and informal ways. As a C.F.T.S.S. provider and a mentor in Yachad’s summer vocational program, I’ve worked directly with children and teens facing emotional, behavioral, and developmental challenges. I’ve supported clients through anxiety, adjustment difficulties, and social struggles, helping them build coping skills, express themselves, and navigate stressful environments. In each role, I’ve learned how critical emotional support is—not just for the individual child, but for the entire family system. These experiences solidified my goal of becoming a school social worker. I plan to use my studies to deepen my understanding of child development, trauma-informed care, and family systems theory. I’m especially interested in learning clinical assessment and intervention techniques that will help me identify emotional and behavioral concerns early on. I also want to explore Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy, which resonates with my belief that behavior is often shaped by deeper internal conflicts. My goal is to create emotionally supportive environments in schools—places where every child is seen, heard, and understood. I want to partner with teachers and families to develop strategies that are compassionate and effective, not punitive. I believe in approaching children with curiosity, not judgment, and in advocating for those who are too often misunderstood. Judaism teaches that every person has inherent worth, and I carry that belief into every interaction. Mental health support isn’t just about fixing problems—it’s about honoring the whole person. Through my career in social work, I hope to provide that kind of support, helping children and families feel safe, empowered, and valued.

There was a time when prioritizing my mental and emotional health felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. Therapy was expensive, and for someone on a tight budget, it often felt like an impossible choice between mental health and financial survival. But after years of pushing through anxiety, burnout, and emotional exhaustion on my own, I reached a point where I realized I could no longer ignore my well-being. I began making therapy a priority—even when it meant stretching my budget uncomfortably thin. This decision wasn’t easy, but it was life-changing. Investing in therapy taught me that mental and emotional health are not optional—they are foundational. I learned how to advocate for myself, set boundaries, and navigate relationships more honestly. It also made me painfully aware of how inaccessible therapy is for many people, especially those from low-income backgrounds or underserved communities. That awareness has stuck with me and continues to guide my passion for social work. I want to help reduce the barriers that prevent people from getting the support they need, whether that’s through advocating for more affordable mental health care or creating community-based support systems. Another turning point in my journey was learning to honor my body’s need for sleep. I used to believe that needing more than seven hours of sleep was lazy or indulgent—especially when others around me seemed to function well on much less. But constantly running on empty only made my anxiety worse and reduced my ability to concentrate, regulate my emotions, and be present with others. Through self-reflection and therapy, I learned to stop comparing my needs to others and started getting the amount of sleep I need to feel healthy and grounded. I now see sleep as an act of self-respect and self-preservation, especially in a field as emotionally demanding as social work. Lastly, I’ve become more aware of how much emotional energy I can realistically give to others. I’ve always been someone people confide in, and I used to think I had to absorb other people’s pain in order to help them. Over time, though, I learned that this approach was not sustainable. I began listening to my body and paying attention to signs of overwhelm—tight shoulders, fatigue, irritability—and learned to recognize when I needed to step back and recharge. These lessons have helped me develop healthier boundaries and a more grounded presence when supporting others. All of these experiences have shaped the way I’m preparing for my future as a social worker. I now know that taking care of myself is not selfish—it’s essential. If I want to show up fully for the people I hope to serve, I need to be mentally, emotionally, and physically well myself. I plan to carry these lessons into both my academic journey and future career by setting boundaries, seeking supervision, practicing self-care, and advocating for mental health access in the communities I work with. I believe that healing becomes more possible when people see providers who are both present and well, and I’m committed to being that kind of provider.

My career goal is to become a dedicated social worker specializing in supporting gifted children, with a focus on nurturing their social-emotional well-being while meeting their unique intellectual needs. Gifted children often face complex challenges that differ significantly from those of their peers. Their advanced cognitive abilities may mask underlying emotional struggles or social difficulties, making it essential to approach their development holistically. By pursuing a career that integrates social work principles with an understanding of giftedness, I aim to empower these children to thrive both emotionally and intellectually. Gifted children are frequently misunderstood or underserved in traditional educational and social settings. Their heightened intellectual capabilities can lead to a mismatch between their academic environment and their personal growth, which may result in feelings of isolation, frustration, or anxiety. Many gifted children experience perfectionism, heightened sensitivity, and intense emotional experiences, which can affect their self-esteem and social interactions. My goal is to create supportive environments that address these emotional challenges while promoting their intellectual curiosity and strengths. To foster social-emotional well-being, I plan to focus on developing strong, trusting relationships with gifted children and their families. Building rapport is foundational to understanding the child’s unique emotional landscape and the specific challenges they face. As a social worker, I will advocate for the child’s emotional needs within the school system and broader community, helping to create tailored support plans that include counseling, peer connection opportunities, and social skills development. I believe that helping gifted children develop resilience, emotional regulation, and self-compassion is critical to their overall well-being. Meeting the intellectual needs of gifted children requires recognizing their advanced learning styles and providing appropriate academic challenges. Many gifted children become bored or disengaged when curriculum is not sufficiently stimulating, which can lead to underachievement or behavioral issues. My career goals include collaborating closely with educators, psychologists, and families to ensure that gifted children receive differentiated instruction, enrichment opportunities, and acceleration when appropriate. I want to advocate for personalized learning plans that allow gifted children to explore their passions and develop critical thinking skills at a pace suited to their abilities. In addition to academic accommodations, I am committed to helping gifted children develop a balanced identity that integrates their intellectual gifts with their social and emotional growth. This includes fostering a healthy sense of self-worth that is not solely based on achievement or external validation. By supporting children in recognizing their intrinsic value and developing emotional intelligence, I hope to reduce the risks of burnout, anxiety, and social withdrawal that some gifted children face. Moreover, my career goals extend beyond individual support to promoting systemic change. I intend to raise awareness about the unique needs of gifted children among educators, policymakers, and communities. Gifted education often receives less attention and resources compared to other special education needs, which can leave many gifted children underserved. Through advocacy and collaboration, I hope to contribute to policies and programs that better address the social-emotional and intellectual development of gifted children on a broader scale. In summary, my career goals as a social worker are driven by the belief that gifted children deserve comprehensive support that nurtures both their minds and hearts. By fostering social-emotional well-being and advocating for intellectually appropriate learning opportunities, I aim to empower gifted children to reach their full potential. I am committed to helping these children build the confidence, resilience, and skills needed to navigate their complex experiences and lead fulfilling lives. Ultimately, I want to ensure that giftedness is celebrated not only for academic success but for the rich, multifaceted individuals these children are.

During my time working with teens in the Yachad vocational integration program, I encountered a particularly challenging leadership moment involving one teen who was deeply resistant to participating in the program or working toward personal goals. This young person struggled with low motivation and often expressed frustration and skepticism about the possibility of change. They viewed their challenges as permanent and were reluctant to engage in activities that required effort or self-reflection. Leading this teen required me to be patient, empathetic, and creative in order to help them feel valued and begin to see their own potential. The biggest challenge was breaking through this teen’s resistance. Their past experiences had left them discouraged, and they were hesitant to believe that setting goals or trying new approaches could make a difference. To be an effective leader, I knew I had to first earn their trust and create a space where they felt safe to share their feelings without fear of judgment. My strategy was to listen deeply and meet the teen where they were emotionally. I acknowledged their frustrations and validated their feelings, letting them know that I understood how hard change can be. I shared with them my own experiences of facing challenges and emphasized that everyone has things to work on—it’s part of being human. By normalizing struggle and focusing on small, achievable steps, I helped this teen start to view goal-setting as a helpful tool rather than a demand. I also worked on building a relationship based on consistency and genuine care. I tailored activities to align with their interests and strengths, which helped reduce resistance and sparked moments of engagement. Importantly, I created an environment where mistakes were accepted as part of learning, which allowed the teen to take risks without fear of failure. Over time, I witnessed a transformation: this teen began to participate more actively, express hope for their future, and take ownership of their personal growth. This experience was incredibly rewarding and taught me that leadership is not about directing others but empowering them to find their own way. It requires patience, empathy, and adaptability, especially when working with individuals facing emotional or social challenges. I plan to bring these leadership skills into my future career as a social worker, particularly in school settings where children and families often navigate complex difficulties. By listening carefully, meeting people where they are, and fostering safe, supportive environments, I hope to help individuals feel empowered to grow. I will use my ability to build trust and encourage collaboration to work alongside educators, families, and communities in creating inclusive spaces where every child can thrive. Ultimately, my goal is to be a leader who uplifts and guides—helping people recognize their worth and potential, even when the journey feels challenging. The lessons I learned leading this teen in Yachad have given me a strong foundation to do just that, and I am excited to continue developing these skills throughout my social work career.

From a young age, I’ve felt drawn to helping others. No matter what path I considered, the common thread was always service—being there for people in ways that matter. Over time, that general desire took on a more focused shape as I worked in early childhood education, supported children with complex needs, and confronted my own mental health challenges. These personal and professional experiences solidified my commitment to becoming a social worker, and more specifically, a school social worker who advocates for children and families often overlooked in traditional systems. My journey began with work in daycare and school settings, where I took on roles ranging from assistant to lead teacher to administrative support. As I spent more time with children in these environments, I started noticing patterns: many kids were struggling emotionally, socially, or behaviorally, yet their needs weren’t being addressed. Often, these weren’t the children with visible diagnoses or major disruptions, but rather the quiet ones—those whose pain flew under the radar. I saw how easily children could be misunderstood, labeled, or dismissed when adults weren’t equipped with the tools or time to dig deeper. These realizations pushed me to seek a more active role in changing those dynamics. A pivotal experience that shaped my direction was witnessing how a family member struggled to get appropriate support from the school system. I saw firsthand how easily a child could be misunderstood or dismissed when support systems fail. This fueled my desire to be part of the solution—someone who not only sees the child but also helps the family and school environment understand and support them. Today, I’m pursuing a career in social work because I believe that every child deserves to be seen, heard, and valued. I want to create environments where children feel emotionally safe and supported, and where educators and families are empowered to respond with compassion rather than frustration. I am especially interested in trauma-informed care, collaborative intervention planning, and therapeutic approaches like Internal Family Systems (IFS), which offer powerful frameworks for understanding behavior in a nonjudgmental and healing way. My current work as a C.F.T.S.S. provider and my previous experience with teens and adults in Yachad’s vocational integration program have only deepened my understanding of what people need: empathy, structure, and someone willing to stand by them through the ups and downs. I’ve learned to meet people where they are, while still holding hope for where they can go. Judaism teaches that every individual has infinite worth. This belief guides me in all I do. I reject labels like “difficult” or “troublemaker” and instead ask, “What is this person trying to communicate?” Through this lens, I aim to help others feel truly seen—and ultimately, supported. Through my career, I hope to make a positive impact by being a steady, compassionate presence for children and families navigating challenges. I want to shift school cultures toward empathy and understanding, and I hope to model what’s possible when we stop blaming and start connecting.

Mental health is not just a topic I care about—it’s something I have lived. My journey with depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation has shaped every part of who I am: how I see the world, how I relate to others, and how I envision my future. While these challenges were deeply painful and at times isolating, they ultimately led me to a path of growth, compassion, and purpose. They helped me realize that my experiences weren’t just burdens—they could become the very tools I use to help others. For years, I struggled quietly. Like many people who battle depression and anxiety, I learned to mask my pain and function “well enough” on the outside. But inside, I was drowning. Suicidal thoughts weren’t constant, but they came often enough to feel familiar. There were periods when simply existing felt exhausting. In those moments, I didn’t need someone to fix me—I needed someone to truly see me, to believe me, and to walk with me through the darkness. These experiences fundamentally changed my beliefs. I stopped seeing emotional struggles as signs of weakness or brokenness. Instead, I began to understand them as deeply human responses to pain, trauma, and disconnection. I realized that our culture often treats mental health as a side issue—something separate from “real life”—when in fact, it is the foundation of everything: learning, relationships, purpose, even physical health. Mental health is not optional. It’s not a luxury. It’s essential. This perspective has profoundly shaped my relationships. Having gone through these struggles myself, I’ve learned how to be present with others in their pain without trying to rush them through it. I’ve learned how to hold space for vulnerability, and how to listen without judgment. I don’t need someone to “have it all together” in order to believe in their worth, because I’ve had to learn how to believe in mine when it felt impossible. These personal lessons didn’t stay in the realm of private life—they became the foundation of my career aspirations. For a long time, I knew I wanted to help others, but I didn’t yet know how. It wasn’t until I began working with children in early childhood education that I saw a common thread: many kids were struggling emotionally and weren’t getting the support they needed. These weren’t just the children with clear diagnoses or visible behavioral issues. They were the quiet kids with anxiety, the ones acting out because of trauma, the ones no one quite knew how to reach. In them, I saw echoes of myself. A particularly defining moment was seeing a close family member with special needs be misunderstood and underserved by the school system. I saw how quick the world can be to label, to pathologize, or to ignore. But I also saw how one advocate, one trained and compassionate adult, could make a difference. I realized I wanted to be that person—for children, for families, for anyone navigating a system that often fails to see the full human behind the struggle. This realization led me to pursue a career in social work, with the goal of becoming a school social worker. I want to support children who are overlooked—not just those with special needs, but those whose emotional pain manifests in subtle or misunderstood ways. I want to help families feel less alone and give teachers tools to respond with empathy instead of frustration. I want to be part of shifting the conversation around behavior, helping people understand that most “difficult” behavior is really communication—a call for help. In my current work as a C.F.T.S.S. provider and in my previous role with teens and adults in Yachad’s vocational integration program, I’ve seen how critical mental health support is in real life—not just in theory. I’ve worked with individuals navigating anxiety, depression, trauma, and complex family dynamics. These roles have shown me how powerful it is to meet someone exactly where they are—with no judgment, only support—and walk with them toward healing. Judaism teaches that every person has inherent worth. That teaching has kept me grounded throughout my mental health journey. It’s something I cling to on hard days and something I pass along to those I support. When a child is struggling, when a teen is acting out, when a parent is overwhelmed, I try to remember: this moment doesn’t define them. Their worth is not diminished by their struggle. That belief isn’t just spiritual for me—it’s practical. It’s the foundation of how I plan to practice as a social worker. Looking back, I wouldn’t have chosen the mental health challenges I’ve faced. But I also wouldn’t erase them. They’ve made me more empathetic, more driven, and more aware of how badly the world needs people who care deeply and think critically about emotional well-being. These experiences have taught me that real change doesn’t come from judgment or force—it comes from connection, understanding, and a willingness to meet people where they are. I hope to bring that perspective into every classroom, every family meeting, and every therapy session I’m part of. My dream is to be a social worker who helps children and families not just survive, but truly thrive. And I know that dream is possible—not in spite of my mental health journey, but because of it.

I’ve always known I wanted to help others. From a young age, every job or role I imagined for myself involved service and care. As I grew older, the exact direction shifted, but the central goal—to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives—remained steady. Over time, I realized that helping others effectively requires not only compassion, but also strong skills, proper training, and a deep understanding of human behavior. This realization led me to the field of social work, with a focus on supporting children with special needs and those who are often overlooked in traditional school environments. My journey began with hands-on experience in early childhood education. I started working in daycares and schools in various roles—teacher, assistant, and administrative staff. These experiences opened my eyes to how many children struggle in ways that are not always visible. I noticed that students with anxiety, social difficulties, or behavioral challenges were often passed over because they didn’t fit the usual criteria for intervention. These children, who didn’t always “stand out” in the traditional sense, were quietly falling through the cracks. It became clear to me that many of these children needed tailored support—someone who could see beyond their behavior and understand the underlying issues. Everyone knows these gaps exist, but pointing fingers at teachers or the system does nothing to support the children themselves. I realized that if I wanted to see change, I had to become part of it. That was the moment I knew I wanted to pursue a career in social work. A pivotal influence on this path was watching a close family member with special needs struggle to get appropriate support in school. I saw firsthand how easily a child can be misunderstood, mislabeled, or even dismissed when the proper systems aren’t in place. This experience solidified my commitment to being a bridge between children, their families, and schools—helping each side understand and support the other in a way that promotes long-term success and emotional well-being. Now, as I pursue a degree in social work, my goal is to become a school social worker who advocates for children with special needs and those whose emotional or behavioral challenges are often misinterpreted. I aim to create emotionally supportive, inclusive environments where every child can thrive. I’m especially passionate about trauma-informed care and therapeutic models like Internal Family Systems (IFS), which help explain behavior through the lens of compassion and curiosity rather than judgment. I want to be equipped with clinical tools to help children express themselves, regulate emotions, and build meaningful relationships. In my current role as a C.F.T.S.S. provider and through my work with teens and adults in Yachad’s vocational integration program, I’ve seen how crucial it is to approach every individual with patience, empathy, and a willingness to understand their full story—not just their behaviors. These experiences have only deepened my commitment to this work. I draw strength and inspiration from the teachings In Judaism, which emphasize that every individual has infinite worth. I believe every child—especially those with special needs—deserves to be seen, heard, and supported in a way that honors their humanity. I look forward to building a career that makes this belief a lived reality in our schools and communities.

I've always known I wanted to help others. From a young age, every job I considered involved serving others. As I grew older, the specific path to fulfilling this goal shifted, but my desire to make a difference remained constant. What I needed were the skills to do so effectively. After completing the first year of seminary, I chose a second year focused on teaching young children. I enjoyed the work and received positive feedback from parents. This led to my first adult job as an assistant in a local daycare, where I later held various roles including teacher and administrative staff in schools and daycare settings. I noticed that many children weren’t receiving the support they needed. These weren’t children with obvious academic or physical challenges but those with more nuanced struggles—children with anxiety, social difficulties, or behavioral issues that were overlooked by teachers due to their quiet nature or academic success. These children often slipped through the cracks, leaving them unsupported. Everyone knows this problem exists. It’s easy to blame the teachers, the schools, the parents, or the system. In some cases, there may have been failures in each of these areas, but at the end of the day, blaming neither supports teachers nor equips parents to help their children. A pivotal experience that shaped my interest in social work was the witnessing of a family member struggle with unmet needs in the school system. I saw firsthand how easily a child could be misunderstood or dismissed when support systems failed. This fueled my desire to create meaningful change, an experience that lit the spark which ultimately led me to social work. Over time, I realized I had a choice: I could either complain about the principal who acted unfairly, the teachers who were untrained, and the system that continuously tries to force children into molds—or I could become part of the solution. An effective social worker is equipped to provide the necessary support to both teachers and parents, thereby helping to promote growth, not only for the individual child who needs it but also for the whole family system—or, in the case of a school, for the entire classroom environment. My goal is to become a school social worker supporting children overlooked in the traditional educational environments. Earning my B.A. was the first step toward entering an M.S.W. program, which will give me the clinical knowledge, policy training, and systems-level insight needed to work effectively with families, teachers, and administrators. I hope to help build inclusive, emotionally supportive learning environments in which all children can thrive. Through my social work education, I aim to develop a comprehensive set of skills that will allow me to effectively support children and families. One of my primary goals is to gain proficiency in clinical assessment, as I believe that a strong foundational understanding of psychological and emotional issues is critical for identifying the best approaches to helping children. I am particularly interested in trauma-informed care because of the impact trauma can have on a child’s emotional and behavioral development, and I want to be equipped with the tools to provide compassionate, effective support for those who have experienced trauma. Collaborative intervention planning is another area I am eager to learn more about, as I believe that working alongside families, schools, and other professionals is essential for creating a holistic approach to a child’s well-being. Additionally, I am deeply interested in exploring Internal Family Systems (IFS) as a therapeutic model. IFS offers an understanding of how internal conflicts and parts of the self can affect behavior and emotions, and I believe this approach has great potential in helping children who are struggling with complex emotional or behavioral issues. I also recognize the importance of self-awareness and emotional regulation as a social worker, especially in high-stress situations. Therefore, I am committed to strengthening my ability to manage my own emotional responses, ensuring that my personal experiences do not interfere with my ability to provide balanced and effective support to my clients. By building these skills, I hope to be better equipped to navigate the complexities of social work and to advocate for the children and families I work with in a thoughtful and impactful way. While I plan to work in schools, I understand that my career may evolve. Whether in schools, with families, or through policy development, I remain committed to helping children thrive. In addition to my extensive work in schools and early childhood education, I have gained direct social work-related experience through my involvement with the Yachad summer vocation integration program with teens, and my current role as a C.F.T.S.S. (Community and Family Treatment Support Services) provider. In both positions, I’ve worked closely with children and families navigating emotional, behavioral, and environmental challenges. These roles have reinforced my understanding that effective support must address the full context of a person’s life—not just isolated behaviors or symptoms. I draw inspiration from the teachings of Chassidus, which emphasize that every person has inherent worth. I believe that labeling children as 'troublemakers' or 'stubborn' is unproductive. Instead, we should seek to understand what drives their behavior to find meaningful solutions. Compassion and empathy are among my strongest personal qualities. I have always been deeply attuned to others’ struggles and driven to help alleviate them. At the same time, I recognize that effective support requires more than good intentions—it takes thoughtful planning, resource navigation, and collaboration. My emotional insight, paired with my practical mindset, allows me to offer grounded, sustainable help. Societal norms are constantly evolving; ideas that were once discouraged are now embraced, and vice versa. Many of these changes are positive, but some come at a significant cost. Discipline policies often fail to account for developmental differences. As a social worker, I want to support social-emotional learning and advocate for proactive strategies that help all children feel understood. A well-informed social worker can help do all this by working with educators and families in order to develop strategies that support healthy emotional and social development. Advocating for this awareness can transform how behaviour management is approached in schools, ensuring it is constructive rather than punitive. This is a cause about which I am passionate. I look forward to being an agent for positive change in our communities. I am grateful to be considered for this great privilege.

I believe I am worth the dreams I aspire to achieve because I have the passion, perseverance, and purpose to turn them into something that not only benefits me, but also uplifts others. I want to become a school social worker so I can support students who may be struggling emotionally, socially, or academically—students who, like me at times, need someone who sees their potential even when they can’t see it themselves. My dream isn’t just about a career title; it’s about using my experiences and education to create a safe and supportive environment for young people to thrive. That dream matters—and I matter, too. Growing up, I was raised by a single mother who worked incredibly hard to give me a better future. From an early age, I learned the value of resilience and the importance of community. I also saw firsthand how financial stress and lack of support can affect a person’s mental health and opportunities. These experiences didn’t weaken me—they gave me the drive to help others overcome similar obstacles. I am working toward my social work degree slowly and intentionally, so I can graduate without debt and give back to my community without the added burden of financial stress. This kind of long-term planning, patience, and dedication is part of what makes me worthy of my dream. I’ve also learned that every person is worth the dreams they hold. Our backgrounds, challenges, or setbacks don’t disqualify us from reaching our goals—they shape us into people who can achieve them with even greater empathy and understanding. I remind myself of this every time I feel doubt or fear creeping in. I am no more or less deserving than anyone else, and I try to carry that same belief into the way I treat others. Whether it’s supporting a classmate, encouraging a younger relative, or listening to someone who feels unheard, I try to lead with the belief that everyone’s dreams deserve to be taken seriously—including mine. What makes me especially committed to this path is that I don’t just want success for myself. I want to be part of changing the systems that make it harder for some students to succeed. I want to be the person who notices when a student is silently struggling and helps them find their voice. I want to build trust, offer resources, and remind young people that they are not alone. My dream is rooted in service, and that’s what gives it weight and worth. I am worth my dreams not because I’m perfect or because everything has come easily, but because I continue to show up, learn, and push forward with purpose. I am building my future with care, intention, and a heart for others. And just like every person deserves the chance to become who they’re meant to be, I believe I deserve the opportunity to become the social worker, advocate, and role model I aspire to be.

Receiving this scholarship would be a major step toward helping me reach both my educational and career goals. As someone who is passionate about becoming a school social worker, I am committed to supporting the mental health and well-being of students. However, I’ve also made a very intentional decision to pursue my education in a way that allows me to graduate debt-free. I want to enter the helping profession with a clear mind, free from the stress of student loan debt, so I can focus fully on the needs of the students and families I’ll serve. This scholarship would bring me closer to that goal by easing the financial burden of tuition, books, and other school-related expenses. I have already earned my bachelor’s degree in psychology, and now I am continuing my education in social work. I’m taking my time through this process so that I don’t have to take out loans—I work, budget carefully, and take courses at a pace I can afford. While this approach gives me long-term stability, it also means that any financial support I receive can make a meaningful difference in helping me continue moving forward without delay. Receiving this scholarship would allow me to take more classes each semester, complete my program sooner, and begin my career helping students who are struggling socially, emotionally, or academically. My desire to become a school social worker comes from both personal and academic experiences. I was raised by a single mother who worked hard to provide for me, and I understand the challenges many students face when resources are limited. I also know how hard it can be to succeed in school when mental health isn’t being addressed. Because of this, I’m committed to creating safe, supportive school environments where students feel seen, heard, and valued. I want to be the kind of adult I needed when I was younger—someone who truly listens, who notices when a student is struggling, and who knows how to connect families with helpful resources. This scholarship would not just support me—it would also support every student I will one day work with. With financial assistance, I can focus more on my studies and less on the stress of how to pay for them. I can take on internships and field placements that give me real-world experience, without having to juggle as many hours at a paid job. I can build the skills I need to be a compassionate, knowledgeable, and effective school social worker. And most importantly, I can stay true to my mission of serving others without being weighed down by debt. In short, this scholarship would be a powerful investment—not just in my education, but in the future students and communities I hope to serve. It would bring me one step closer to a career where I can make a lasting difference in the lives of young people, especially those who may not have access to the support they need. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to be considered.

Mental health is incredibly important to me as a student because it directly impacts my ability to learn, focus, and grow. When my mental health is in a good place, I feel more motivated, better able to manage my time, and more open to challenges. But when I’m struggling mentally—whether it’s with anxiety, stress, or self-doubt—it’s harder to keep up with assignments, stay organized, or believe in my own potential. I’ve learned that academic success doesn’t just depend on intelligence or hard work; it also depends on being emotionally and mentally balanced. As someone who has experienced the pressure of trying to be perfect and keep everything together, I’ve come to understand how critical it is to prioritize mental wellness. It’s not always easy, especially when school environments often celebrate productivity over self-care. But I’ve learned that ignoring mental health only leads to burnout. I now try to approach my education in a more sustainable way—setting realistic goals, giving myself grace when things don’t go perfectly, and asking for help when I need it. Because of my personal experiences, I’ve become more intentional about advocating for mental health in my community. At home, I try to create space for open conversations about emotions and stress, especially with younger family members. I remind them that it’s okay to talk about what they’re feeling and that they’re not alone. Simply listening and validating someone’s experience can make a huge difference. I’ve also encouraged friends to seek counseling when they’re overwhelmed, and I’ve shared my own positive experiences with therapy to help reduce the stigma. At school, I advocate for mental health in quieter but meaningful ways. I check in on classmates who seem withdrawn or overwhelmed, and I offer support when I can. Sometimes just letting someone know that you see them and care about what they’re going through can lift a burden. I also try to model healthy coping strategies, like taking breaks, journaling, and using positive self-talk. These may seem small, but they show others that it’s normal—and important—to take care of yourself. I plan to continue advocating for mental health throughout my education and career, especially as I work toward becoming a school social worker. I want to be someone students can trust—someone who understands how hard it can be to ask for help and who can guide them toward the support they need. I believe that if we want students to succeed academically, we have to make their mental health a priority. Mental health is not separate from learning—it’s the foundation of it. When students feel safe, supported, and emotionally well, they’re much more likely to thrive. That’s why, as both a student and a future social worker, I am committed to advocating for mental wellness in every space I’m part of.

I love math because of its logic and organization. There’s something deeply satisfying about the way each problem has a clear path to a solution, and how every step in the process has to follow a logical order. It’s like solving a puzzle where every piece has a place, and when it all fits together, it just makes sense. Unlike many other subjects, math doesn’t depend on opinions or interpretations—there’s a structure, a system, and a definite answer. The organized nature of math gives me a sense of control and clarity. Even when problems seem complex at first, I know that if I follow the rules and stay focused, I can work through it step by step. That structure brings comfort, especially in a world that can often feel unpredictable and chaotic. Math provides a kind of mental order that helps me think more clearly, not just about numbers, but about everyday decisions and challenges. I also appreciate how math builds on itself. Concepts I learned in earlier grades continue to support more advanced ideas, creating a strong, logical foundation. This progression shows how everything is connected, and that sense of connection motivates me to keep learning. Overall, I love math because it trains my brain to think critically and logically. It rewards focus, discipline, and patience. To me, math isn’t just about numbers—it’s about finding solutions, solving problems, and making sense of the world in a reliable and organized way.

Resilience, to me, isn’t measured by how many obstacles appear in my path—it’s measured by how many children, families, and colleagues are better off because I kept moving forward. I first felt the pull to serve when I was still in grade school: every “What do you want to be?” daydream placed me in roles that lifted others. After my formative years of school, I chose a program that equipped me with the skills to begin a career in early-childhood education. The feedback was immediate and affirming—parents told me their children felt seen and safe in my classroom. That momentum carried me into my first professional role at a local daycare, where I eventually cycled through every station from toddler teacher to administrative lead. It was there that adversity stopped being abstract. I met bright children whose anxiety made drop-off terrifying, students who excelled academically yet wilted whenever a peer brushed past them, and families paralyzed by worry but unsure how to translate love into support. These “quiet strugglers” were falling through cracks no standardized test could reveal. I could have blamed teachers, principals, or an under-resourced system; instead, I decided to become the person who stitches those cracks closed. That decision has steered every step since. I earned my B.A. in psychology while working part-time and managing my own mental-health challenges—proof that persistence can coexist with vulnerability. I immersed myself in Internal Family Systems, trauma-informed care, and collaborative intervention planning, because sophisticated problems demand sophisticated tools. I spent multiple summers with Yachad’s vocational integration program, guiding teens and adults with disabilities through real-world job experiences. Today, as a Child and Family Treatment Support Services provider, I walk alongside children and caregivers navigating challenges both mundane and dramatic. One parent once told me, “I spent all year trying tirelessly to find a provider who instinctively and organically gives her security and comfort—someone who gets her. That alone is powerful, to have that healthy and nurturing relationship she so desperately needs.” That feedback reminded me why this work matters: because when a child feels truly understood, everything begins to change. What I’m proudest of is the mindset I bring into every room: every child holds inherent worth; every behavior is a clue, not a verdict; and every adult can learn to translate frustration into curiosity. Looking ahead to an M.S.W. and a career as a school social worker, I’m eager to turn individual victories into systemic reform—helping districts embed proactive social-emotional learning, training educators in trauma-responsive practices, and advocating for policies that treat discipline as restoration rather than punishment. Life will stay hard; I intend to stay harder, bolstered by compassion sharp enough to cut through bureaucracy and resilience sturdy enough to prop up everyone still learning how to stand.

Selflessness, to me, means showing up for others even when there is no recognition or reward—offering support simply because it's the right thing to do. Growing up with a single mother who worked tirelessly to provide for our family, I learned early on what it means to put others first. Her strength and quiet sacrifices inspired me to be someone others can rely on, no matter what I have going on in my own life. One example of this was when I supported a friend who was navigating an abusive relationship. She had become isolated and overwhelmed, unsure how to regain control of her life. I didn’t have all the answers, but I knew she needed someone who would listen without judgment and remind her of her worth. I spent time with her regularly, encouraged her to seek counseling. It was emotionally draining at times, but I never questioned whether she was worth the effort. Supporting her reinforced my belief that offering a steady presence during someone’s challenging moments can be life-changing—for them and for me. I also embody selflessness by being a steady source of support for my family. As someone who has always taken on a responsible role, I’ve often been the one my relatives turn to when they need help—whether it’s emotional support, financial advice, or just a listening ear. I’ve helped siblings talk through difficult decisions. Sometimes that means putting aside my own stress or schedule so I can be fully present for them. In particular, there have been times when I’ve taken on caregiving responsibilities when a family member was sick or overwhelmed. I didn’t view it as a burden—it felt natural to step in and do what I could. I wanted to ease their load in any way possible. My family has always been a source of strength for me, and I see it as a privilege to return that support when they need it most. I also try to embody selflessness in smaller, everyday ways—through how I treat others, share what I’ve learned, and offer help when I can. For example, I’ve helped classmates find low-cost options for textbooks and resources when money was tight. I share what I know not because I see myself as an expert, but because I understand how hard it is to move forward without support. Ultimately, I’m pursuing social work because I want to continue living out these values on a larger scale. I want to be someone who offers guidance, empathy, and hope to individuals and families during difficult times. Selflessness isn’t just something I believe in—it’s something I practice every day, especially within my own family, and I’m committed to building a career rooted in service to others.

Working with a child who has a rare disorder, like Rebecca, requires a blend of creativity, patience, empathy, and a deep commitment to connection. No two children are alike, and this becomes especially true when a diagnosis is rare or undefined. As someone pursuing a career in social work with a focus on children, I believe the most essential first step is to get to know the child as an individual—beyond their diagnosis. That means taking time to observe, listen, and learn how they express themselves, what makes them smile, and what brings them comfort. Every behavior is a form of communication, and part of the work is learning to understand that language. For a non-verbal child, I would explore a range of alternative communication methods. These may include picture exchange communication systems (PECS), sign language, or assistive technology like speech-generating devices and tablet-based applications. These tools are most effective when paired with genuine engagement and responsiveness. I would work closely with speech and occupational therapists to ensure that the communication method chosen aligns with the child’s developmental abilities, interests, and sensory preferences. It's also important to be consistent and encouraging, so that the child feels heard, validated, and empowered to communicate in their own way. Reaching and teaching a child with a rare disorder requires both adaptability and collaboration. I would approach each child with flexibility, recognizing that progress may look different than traditional expectations. I would also ensure that their learning goals are personalized—tailored not only to what they need to work on but to what excites and motivates them. For example, if a child like Rebecca is energized by music, I would find ways to incorporate rhythm, melody, and movement into our work. I believe joy is a powerful teaching tool, and when children are engaged in activities they love, learning naturally follows. Family plays an irreplaceable role in the education and progress of a disabled child. Parents and caregivers know their child best. Their insight is critical in understanding daily patterns, reactions, fears, and comforts. I see family not only as collaborators, but as co-educators and lifelong advocates. I would prioritize building strong, respectful relationships with family members by maintaining open communication, actively listening to their concerns and hopes, and including them in every stage of planning. I believe that progress is most sustainable when there is consistency between school and home, and that can only be achieved through teamwork. Rebecca’s story touched me deeply. Her life is a reminder of how much joy, connection, and impact a person can have, regardless of the challenges they face. The people who worked with her—those who learned her unique way of communicating and respected her individuality—made a lifelong difference, not only for her, but for everyone who knew her. That is the kind of professional I strive to be. I want to be someone who looks beyond labels and sees the whole person, someone who helps build a world where all children, regardless of ability, are valued and supported. If awarded this scholarship, I will carry Rebecca’s spirit with me throughout my education and career. I am committed to honoring her memory by becoming the kind of social worker who makes children feel excited to go to school, safe in being themselves, and proud of what they can achieve.

Right now, the way I give back to others might not look traditional, but it is meaningful. I focus on being a steady, supportive presence in the lives of the people around me. Whether it’s encouraging a friend going through a tough time, listening without judgment, or offering advice when asked, I try to show up with empathy and honesty. I know how powerful it can be just to have someone who cares. That’s something I can offer now, even before I’m in a formal helping role. I also give back by investing in myself—through education, growth, and intentional choices. I’ve already earned a degree in psychology and am now pursuing social work so I can help others professionally. I’m taking my education slowly and intentionally to avoid student loan debt, because I want to enter the workforce ready to give without being burdened by financial stress. This path allows me to stay grounded and focused on my purpose: helping others, especially youth who may not have access to the support they need. In the future, I plan to work as a school social worker. I want to be someone who students can turn to when they feel overwhelmed, misunderstood, or unseen. As someone who was raised by a single mother and understands what it’s like to face financial uncertainty and emotional stress, I feel especially drawn to working with kids who may be facing similar challenges. I want to be the person who helps students feel safe, heard, and capable—because every child deserves that. My long-term goal is not only to support individual students, but to advocate for more equitable and inclusive practices in schools. I hope to be involved in programs that address mental health, family support, and access to basic needs. I also want to make sure that students feel connected and empowered, even when life outside of school feels unstable. Even outside of a career, I want to continue giving back by being part of building stronger, more caring communities. That could mean helping someone understand how to navigate a system, sharing resources, or just being someone who others can count on. I believe positive impact doesn’t always come from big, public actions—it often comes from small, consistent acts of care. In both my current life and future plans, I’m committed to showing up for others and contributing to a more compassionate world. I may not have a formal title yet, but I know that my mindset, values, and actions today are already shaping the kind of impact I want to have tomorrow.

My passion for emergency services and community involvement stems from a deep commitment to helping others, particularly in times of crisis. I’ve always felt drawn to spaces where people face urgent challenges and need compassionate, steady support. This drive is rooted in my own experiences growing up in a low-income household, raised by a determined single mother who showed me the strength it takes to navigate hardship—and how crucial community support can be in that journey. I completed my Bachelor’s degree with a major in Psychology, a field that gave me insight into human behavior, trauma, and the importance of early intervention. Through my studies, I developed a strong foundation in mental health, child development, and crisis response—all of which reaffirmed my desire to build a career centered on supporting vulnerable individuals and families. Now, I am continuing my education by pursuing a degree in social work, with a long-term goal of becoming a school social worker who also contributes to broader emergency response efforts. My educational path is intentional. I’m taking a steady approach that allows me to complete my social work training without accumulating debt, which is important to me because I want to serve communities with a clear mind and an open heart, not burdened by financial pressure. Eventually, I plan to earn a Master of Social Work, with additional training in trauma-informed care and crisis intervention. My background in psychology complements this path, giving me a deeper understanding of the emotional and behavioral challenges that often accompany difficult life circumstances. As a future school social worker, my aim is to be a stable, trusted advocate for children and families who are struggling—whether with poverty, mental health, housing instability, or exposure to violence. Schools are often the first place where these issues become visible, and I want to be someone who can recognize the signs, respond effectively, and connect students and families to the resources they need. Beyond the school setting, I’m equally passionate about being involved in emergency services more broadly—supporting community-wide efforts during times of natural disasters, public health crises, or other emergencies where social workers are critical to the response and recovery process. The impact I hope to make in the communities I serve is both immediate and long-term. I want to be part of systems that not only respond to crises, but also work to prevent them through education, outreach, and accessible support networks. My goal is to promote resilience, reduce barriers to care, and foster environments where people—especially youth—feel seen, supported, and empowered to thrive. By combining my background in psychology with my social work training, I bring a well-rounded perspective that balances emotional insight with practical intervention strategies. Ultimately, my commitment is to serve with integrity, compassion, and cultural humility. I believe that everyone deserves a chance to feel safe, supported, and valued, especially during their most vulnerable moments. Through my education, lived experiences, and unwavering dedication to community wellbeing, I am preparing myself to be a resource for those who need it most—not just in moments of crisis, but in the everyday struggles that often go unseen.

I’ve always known I wanted to help others. From a young age, every career I considered—teacher, nurse, counselor—involved service. As I grew older, the specific direction shifted, but the underlying desire to make a difference never changed. What I needed were the tools and skills to do so effectively. After my first year of seminary, I chose a second year focused on early childhood education. I enjoyed the work and received encouraging feedback from parents, which led to my first job in a local daycare. Over the years, I worked in various roles, including classroom teacher and administrative staff. While I loved helping children learn and grow, I began to notice something troubling: many children with emotional or behavioral needs were being overlooked. They weren’t disruptive or academically behind, but their quiet anxiety or social struggles often went unnoticed. Everyone agrees this is a problem, but it’s not one that can be solved by blaming teachers or parents. What’s needed is someone who can support both—someone who understands children and systems and knows how to build bridges between them. That’s what led me to social work. A turning point for me came when a family member struggled to get proper support at school. I watched how easily a child could be misunderstood, dismissed, and left behind when the system failed. I realized I could either stay frustrated or become part of the solution. Social work offered a path forward—one that allowed me to support not only individual children, but their families and educators as well. My goal is to become a school social worker who helps children thrive emotionally and socially, especially those who fall through the cracks in traditional classrooms. I want to advocate for inclusive, trauma-informed, and emotionally supportive learning environments. Through an M.S.W. program, I hope to gain the clinical knowledge, policy training, and systems-level insight necessary to support meaningful change. In addition to my work in schools and daycares, I’ve gained valuable experience through Yachad’s summer vocational program and my current role as a C.F.T.S.S. provider. In both positions, I’ve worked directly with children and families facing emotional and behavioral challenges, helping them find support that addresses the full context of their lives. I believe that with the right tools and compassion, we can do more than just manage children’s behavior—we can help them heal, grow, and thrive. I’m committed to becoming a knowledgeable and grounded social worker who creates lasting impact.

One of the greatest challenges I have faced on my educational journey has been learning to care for my own mental health. For a long time, I believed that strength meant pushing through every struggle in silence, but over time I learned that true strength often lies in asking for help, setting boundaries, and learning self-awareness. Like so many others, I have faced moments of anxiety, self-doubt, and emotional overwhelm. These moments made academic progress difficult, especially in a world that often equates success with perfection and constant productivity. There were times when I questioned whether I was capable of completing my degree or whether I would ever find the right path. Learning to be honest about these struggles — first with myself and then with the people around me — was one of the most important lessons of my life. I worked hard to develop healthier coping strategies, seek out support when needed, and prioritize my mental well-being without giving up on my goals. Rather than viewing my struggles as roadblocks, I began to see them as part of the journey. Learning to manage my mental health not only helped me succeed academically, it also helped me grow as a person. It gave me the empathy and self-awareness I will carry with me into my future career as a social worker. This journey is one of the main reasons I feel called to public service. Having experienced firsthand what it feels like to struggle quietly, I want to be the person who helps others feel seen, heard, and supported. My own challenges have deepened my compassion and my understanding that everyone’s story is more complex than what meets the eye. I believe that no one should have to face hardship alone, and I want to be part of building systems of support, especially for children and families navigating emotional or social challenges. I believe in meeting people where they are and helping them recognize their own strengths, just as others have done for me. Public service, especially through social work, gives me the opportunity to channel my personal growth into professional purpose — turning the lessons I’ve learned into meaningful help for others. Overcoming my own mental health challenges has not only strengthened my resolve to complete my education, but it has also shaped the kind of professional I hope to become: one who listens, advocates, and believes in the power of small, steady change. Higher education will allow me to bring both my lived experience and my professional training to the work of making a real difference in the lives of others.

I have always known I wanted to pursue a career that centers on helping others. From the time I was a child, every path I considered had one common thread: a desire to make a positive difference in people’s lives. As I grew older, the shape of that goal evolved, but the passion never wavered. My work with children began in early childhood settings — as an assistant, teacher, floater, resource room instructor, and administrative support in schools and daycares. Across these roles, I noticed a recurring problem: there were always children quietly struggling, yet receiving little or no support. These were not always the students with academic challenges or diagnosed disabilities, but rather those with social, emotional, or behavioral struggles that weren’t easily recognized — the child with anxiety, the socially isolated child, the child labeled a “troublemaker” without deeper understanding. Seeing this pattern disturbed me, both as an educator and as a family member of someone who faced similar challenges. I watched good children fall through the cracks, not because the adults around them didn’t care, but because they lacked the right tools, time, or training to help. I realized that if I wanted to make a lasting impact, I needed to be part of the solution. That is what led me to pursue a degree in social work. Higher education is the tool that will allow me to turn this goal into a reality. Through my social work training, I will develop the knowledge and skills necessary to work with children, parents, and schools to create environments where all students can thrive. My long-term goal is to support the emotional and social development of children — especially those whose needs are overlooked — and to help families and educators access the resources they need to guide them. I also hope to advocate for more supportive, growth-focused approaches in schools. Too often, systems lean on punitive discipline rather than seeking to understand the root causes of behavior. I want to help shift that dynamic, by introducing strategies that foster emotional resilience, positive communication, and healthy self-expression in students. Beyond individual schools, I hope to use my education to raise awareness about larger social challenges that impact children, including the growing influence of technology and violent media on their emotional and social development. Through community-based education and family support, I want to encourage healthier environments both at home and in school. I draw inspiration from the teachings of Chassidus, which emphasize the unshakable value of every soul. This principle shapes how I view the children I work with: every child deserves to be understood, supported, and given the opportunity to grow, no matter how their struggles present on the surface. Higher education will allow me to return to my community as a qualified advocate and support system — not just for children, but for their families, teachers, and schools. My mission is to build bridges between these groups and help create environments where every child feels seen, valued, and empowered.