
Hobbies and interests
Writing
Gaming
Coding And Computer Science
Shantice Dawkins
305
Bold Points1x
Finalist
Shantice Dawkins
305
Bold Points1x
FinalistEducation
Catholic University of America
Bachelor's degree programMajors:
- Computer Science
Miscellaneous
Desired degree level:
Master's degree program
Graduate schools of interest:
Transfer schools of interest:
Majors of interest:
Career
Dream career field:
Computer Software
Dream career goals:
Lyndsey Scott Coding+ Scholarship
I moved to the United States from Jamaica with my family when I was five. Adjusting to a new language and education system was a struggle, and I was placed in Read 180 and similar programs. My difficulties stemmed from the language barrier and unfamiliarity with U.S. teaching methods. Over time, I adapted and moved out of those programs, but the experience left me with anxiety and a fear of failure.
Rather than asking for help, I masked my struggles. I saw admitting difficulty as a sign of weakness, not just for me but for my parents, who worked tirelessly despite financial hardships to provide me with opportunities they never had. Coming from a traditional Jamaican household, where mental health was not openly discussed, made it even harder to acknowledge what I was going through. Though I often excelled academically, I experienced frequent burnout. By my last year of high school, I suffered from exhaustion and insomnia, with weeks where I couldn’t sleep no matter what I tried.
Despite entering college mentally drained, I pushed forward, unwilling to take a break. The stress eventually took its toll. By my second semester, my GPA dropped below 1.9. I was exhausted, yet I felt trapped by the stigma surrounding mental health in my community, unable to seek a formal diagnosis. Still, I refused to give up.
As a first-generation college student, I have had to navigate higher education largely on my own. My parents’ highest level of education was some high school or its equivalent, so I lacked guidance in preparing for college. Unlike many of my peers, I didn’t have access to coding clubs or mentors. I had to teach myself, failing repeatedly but always finding ways to learn and improve. While I may not be where I hoped to be academically, my passion for technology remains strong. My dream is to create apps for children with learning disabilities, especially those who, like me and my family, have struggled in silence due to cultural stigmas and lack of access to resources.
This scholarship would be a lifeline, allowing me to continue my education and work toward my goals. With a household income of less than $30,000 per year, financial strain is a constant challenge, but I refuse to let it dictate my future. I want to use my education to uplift others who feel isolated in their struggles and to provide them with tools to succeed.
Diversity and inclusion in the tech industry are critical because representation matters. When people from different backgrounds are given a seat at the table, innovation flourishes. More importantly, having someone who has walked a similar path can make all the difference for those who feel like they don’t belong. I want to be part of a movement that makes technology more accessible and inclusive so the next generation doesn’t face the same barriers I did.
I may not be the best coder or developer yet, but I am determined. My passion for technology, my commitment to helping others, and my drive to overcome the odds fuel me every day. This scholarship would not only help me continue my education but also bring me one step closer to making a tangible impact in the lives of those who need it most.
STEAM Generator Scholarship
I moved to the United States from Jamaica with my family when I was five. Adjusting to a new language and education system was a struggle, and I was placed in Read 180 and similar programs. My difficulties stemmed from the language barrier and unfamiliarity with U.S. teaching methods. Over time, I adapted and moved out of those programs, but the experience left me with anxiety and a fear of failure.
Rather than asking for help, I masked my struggles. I saw admitting difficulty as a sign of weakness, not just for me but for my parents, who worked tirelessly despite financial hardships to provide me with opportunities they never had. Coming from a traditional Jamaican household, where mental health was not openly discussed, made it even harder to acknowledge what I was going through. Though I often excelled academically, I experienced frequent burnout. By my last year of high school, I suffered from exhaustion and insomnia, with weeks where I couldn’t sleep no matter what I tried.
Despite entering college mentally drained, I pushed forward, unwilling to take a break. The stress eventually took its toll. By my second semester, my GPA dropped below 1.9. I was exhausted, yet I felt trapped by the stigma surrounding mental health in my community, unable to seek a formal diagnosis. Still, I refused to give up.
As a first-generation college student, I have had to navigate higher education largely on my own. My parents’ highest level of education was some high school or its equivalent, so I lacked guidance in preparing for college. Unlike many of my peers, I didn’t have access to coding clubs or mentors. I had to teach myself, failing repeatedly but always finding ways to learn and improve. While I may not be where I hoped to be academically, my passion for technology remains strong. My dream is to create apps for children with learning disabilities, especially those who, like me and my family, have struggled in silence due to cultural stigmas and lack of access to resources.
This scholarship would be a lifeline, allowing me to continue my education and work toward my goals. With a household income of less than $30,000 per year, financial strain is a constant challenge, but I refuse to let it dictate my future. I want to use my education to uplift others who feel isolated in their struggles and to provide them with tools to succeed.
Diversity and inclusion in the tech industry are critical because representation matters. When people from different backgrounds are given a seat at the table, innovation flourishes. More importantly, having someone who has walked a similar path can make all the difference for those who feel like they don’t belong. I want to be part of a movement that makes technology more accessible and inclusive so the next generation doesn’t face the same barriers I did.
I may not be the best coder or developer yet, but I am determined. My passion for technology, my commitment to helping others, and my drive to overcome the odds fuel me every day. This scholarship would not only help me continue my education but also bring me one step closer to making a tangible impact in the lives of those who need it most.
Empowering Black Women in Tech
I moved to the United States from Jamaica with my family when I was five. Adapting to a new language and different teaching styles was a struggle, and I was placed in Read 180 and other programs designed for students with learning challenges. My difficulties were not due to a learning disability but rather the language barrier and the unfamiliarity of the U.S. education system. Over time, I adapted and moved out of those programs, but the experience left me with anxiety and a deep fear of failure.
Rather than asking for help when I faced challenges, I masked my struggles. I felt that admitting difficulty was a sign of weakness, not just for me but for my parents, who worked tirelessly despite our financial hardships to provide me with opportunities they never had. Coming from a traditional Jamaican household, where mental health was not openly discussed or prioritized, made it even harder to acknowledge what I was going through. Though I often excelled academically, I experienced frequent burnout. By my last year of high school, I was suffering from extreme exhaustion and insomnia. There were weeks when I couldn’t sleep no matter what I tried, and the pressure to perform only worsened my mental state.
Despite entering college mentally drained, I pushed forward, unwilling to take a break. However, the stress eventually took its toll. By my second semester, my GPA dropped below 1.9. I was exhausted, yet I felt trapped by the stigma surrounding mental health in the Black community, unable to seek a formal diagnosis for my anxiety or depression. Still, I refused to give up.
I am currently studying computer science, and while I may not be where I hoped to be academically, my passion for technology remains strong. My dream has always been to create apps for children with learning disabilities—especially those who, like me and my family, have struggled in silence due to cultural stigmas and lack of access to resources. My mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother all showed signs of learning disabilities, but because of deeply rooted societal beliefs, none were ever properly diagnosed. This silent suffering has been passed down for generations, and I want to break the cycle.
Technology is important to me because it provides an outlet where I don’t have to pretend. It allows me to build, create, and express myself without limitations. However, my journey into tech has not been easy. With parents whose highest level of education was only some high school or its equivalent, I have had to navigate much of this path on my own. Unlike many of my peers, I didn’t have access to coding clubs or mentors to guide me. I’ve had to teach myself, failing repeatedly but always finding ways to learn and improve.
This scholarship would be a lifeline. It would allow me to continue my education, helping me stay in school alongside my peers and work toward my long-term goals. With a household income of less than $30,000 per year, financial strain is a constant challenge, but I refuse to let it dictate my future. I want to use my education to uplift others who feel isolated in their struggles, to show them they are not alone, and to provide them with tools that can help them succeed.
Diversity and inclusion in the tech industry are critical because representation matters. When people from different backgrounds are given a seat at the table, innovation flourishes. More importantly, having someone who has walked a similar path can make all the difference for those who feel like they don’t belong. Too often, people of color—especially Black women—are expected to mask their struggles and suffer in silence rather than seek help. I want to change that narrative. I want to be part of a movement that makes technology more accessible and inclusive so the next generation doesn’t have to face the same barriers I did.
I may not be the best coder or developer yet, but I am determined. My passion for technology, my commitment to helping others, and my drive to overcome the odds fuel me every day. This scholarship would not only help me continue my education but also bring me one step closer to making a tangible impact in the lives of those who need it most.