The “smart kid” is a label that has been given to me since I made the Honor Roll in Pre-K. While one could look at my educational journey from the outside and assume the A’s and Honor Roll title came naturally, under the surface, there was so much more. Some like school because they're good at it, but I’m good at it because I love school. I love learning and the engagement that takes place in the classroom. I love that education can open doors and take you down paths one never deemed possible. Growing up in a household where every penny counted, I refuse to let financial limitations define my dreams. I want a future where my aspirations are fueled by passion, not constrained by circumstance. Besides socioeconomic status and being diagnosed with Epilepsy at age nine, pushing the boundaries is not new to me. The uncertainty and unpredictability of Epilepsy filled me with anxiety, living in constant fear of experiencing a seizure at any moment. My fear became reality when I suffered a concussion while cheering. During this time, the care and compassion extended by my doctors and the school’s athletic trainers were eye-opening. I began exploring different ways to participate in sports, eventually leading me to transition from being an athlete to becoming a student athletic trainer. I’ve always been drawn to the STEM-based classes; they combine my favorite parts of school. They allow me to gain knowledge, encourage me to think critically, and problem solve, all while having a hands-on approach. As a student with ADHD, I’m often prone to becoming distracted, but with my science and math classes, I never have that problem. Whether research, projects, or a new unit, my lightbulb moments in those classes are never dull. In my anatomy and neuroscience classes, or the sports medicine summer camps I participated in at UT and Wake Forest, I've always been drawn to the STEM field. Unbeknownst to me, however, I discovered my passion within STEM, specifically athletic training, as I sat in a crowded room adorned with posters of body systems and surrounded by trust and camaraderie. Witnessing how small acts of care profoundly impact others attracted me to this field. I intend to provide care to the full spectrum of athletes from sports to dance. I am excited to attend a school where I will participate in ground-breaking research and care. I plan to provide care based on the most beneficial, accurate, current, and thoroughly researched practices. Beyond financial support, this scholarship holds deep symbolic meaning for me. It was not until my sophomore year that I was taught by a Black female athletic trainer for the first time. Her unapologetic presence in a field lacking diversity showed me that my dreams were not just valid but attainable. Our time together was brief yet transformative, underscoring the critical need for representation of Black women in STEM. I want to make an impact in this field. She inspired me to succeed not just for myself, but for future Black women following in my footsteps, so they will know that this field is for them too. Whether that's creating the safe space I found in the training room at school or mentoring those younger than me, I will use my role in this field to open doors and inspire. Pursuing this STEM career will empower me to mentor and help others pursue their dreams and reach goals in healthy bodies!

I’ve always been good with words. A heartfelt letter? I could bring you to tears. A poem? I’ve had mine published. Public speaking? It’s probably my greatest strength. And yet, English was always my worst grade. Analytical writing never clicked for me. Teachers often praised my choice of topics, but my grades never matched the effort. The feedback was always the same: “go deeper,” “look beneath the surface.” I tried, yet somehow, I always fell short. Freshman and sophomore years, I left each English class more frustrated, still a mediocre analytical writer, and hating English a little bit more. By junior year, I had accepted that writing just wasn’t my thing. That was, until I stepped into Dr. Howell’s English 3 class. At first, it felt like the same story. Another essay, another disappointing grade. But this time, something was different. The feedback was still “go deeper,” but now, Dr. Howell offered me the tools to actually understand what that meant. She invited me to revise my essays and sat with me one-on-one, talking through my ideas and showing me how to dig into a text. For the first time, I was learning how to write analytically—not just what to say, but how to think. The breakthrough came with our final essay on The Great Gatsby. I obsessed over every detail, pouring hours into outlining, writing, and editing. When I received a 93, I didn’t just feel proud—I felt transformed. This moment, this teacher unlocked a new confidence in me. I believed more strongly in my ability to achieve what seemed to be insurmountable goals. I learned to approach my opportunities to mentor others with more optimism. Hopefully, instilling in my mentees the belief that they are capable of achieving greatness if they persevere. I often credit Dr. Howell’s class as the hardest I’ve taken, but also the most rewarding. Her class gave me my first experience of mental growing pains, but in the end, I stood taller. Her belief in my potential and commitment to my growth restored a love for English I thought I’d lost. I don’t know if she realizes the impact she had on me, but I left her class not just a better writer, but a more confident learner. More importantly, it changed how I see myself. I wasn’t bad at writing, I just didn’t know how. And I’ve realized that’s true for so many things in life: we’re not incapable, we’re just waiting for the right person to teach us with patience and care. Dr. Howell was that person for me, and I hope to be that person for someone else one day –to be someone’s Dr. Howell.

Growing up in a household where we had a change jar because every penny counted, I didn't want to penny-pinch my dreams. I envisioned a future where my aspirations were shaped by curiosity and passion rather than financial circumstances. I explored many paths, believing a lucrative career would be my ticket to a more fulfilling life, but it wasn't until my junior year that my idea of fulfillment changed. Besides socioeconomic status, being diagnosed with Epilepsy at age nine, familiarized me with pushing the boundaries limiting me. The uncertainty and unpredictability of Epilepsy filled me with anxiety – living in constant fear of experiencing a seizure at any moment. My fear became reality when I suffered a concussion while cheering. During this time, the care and compassion extended by my doctors and the school’s athletic trainers were truly enlightening. I began exploring different ways to participate in sports, eventually leading me to transition from being an athlete to becoming a student athletic trainer. In a crowded room covered with posters of body systems, amidst the smiles of athletes and the buzzing energy of game day as we prepped for kickoff, I discovered my true passion for athletic training. I learned athletic trainers are the paramedics of the sports world, rushing to the scene of accidents armed with only our tools and our wits, trained for the unexpected. My desire to excel inspired me to equip my tool belt as best I could. I took classes like neuroscience, anatomy, and physiology, spent summers at college sports medicine programs, and countless hours in the training room at school – learning under the best in the field. As a trainer, I faced many pressured moments measured by mere seconds, including when a close friend went down during a mid-season game. Experiencing the cries of athletes to which you grow close, while remaining clear-headed under the beaming lights, was scary. In those moments, my resilience pulls me out of that fear, and every time I re-live the fulfilment of a purpose greater than myself. This career was made for me. It's on the field where I feel the most valuable, like a diamond. I began thriving under the pressure. In my journey to transition into being a first-generation student, I have tried to take the best steps to establish survival skills, study habits, and a good work ethic. Prioritizing work, and practicing time management, assignment organization, and self-care in my college preparatory high school prepared me in more ways than I initially realized. Each piece instilled independence and accountability. Researching college admission requirements, campus resources, and financial aid opportunities was real-world eye-opening. I focused on maintaining excellent academic performance, engaged in extracurricular activities, and community service projects. I have created a consistent routine of attending office hours, seeking guidance from teachers and my dean on their insights into college readiness. I have participated in orientations, sought out mentors, and asked a ridiculous amount of questions from peers who’ve walked the same path. Being a student trainer taught me that success isn’t just measured monetarily. The future I’m building isn’t just for my success, but the success of my team and the black women following my efforts, so they’ll know without a doubt this field is for them too. My dreams are part of the story I write for myself as I uplift others. The sports world is about competition and overcoming fears. Athletic trainers compete against time while joining athletes in their battle to overcome their fears, because like my own limits, our fears are what we make of them.