While everybody encounters obstacles in the pursuit of their goals, I have discovered that perseverance will help you turn those obstacles into opportunities. My experience with dyslexia has impacted my learning and perspective on the world. Instead of viewing my learning disability, I now use that as a motivation source. My experiences have inspired me to create a career where I help others overcome both academic and personal obstacles to help them reach their potential. My goal is to pursue a career as an Speech Language Pathologists supporting children with communication and learning disabilities. I want to help children realize their confidence in their abilities, and that having a unique way of learning does not mean they are learning less than others. From my own experiences of struggling to read and write in a traditional classroom I understand how disheartening it is to be challenged so much as a student by particular tasks or skills when the expectation is that you should be able to perform those tasks at grade level. I also know that when teachers believed in me and identified my strengths as a learner, and taught me how to tap into those strengths, they changed my life. I want to be that role model to future generations of students. Volunteering has strengthened my commitment to service and education. Through working with children who have learning differences, I have seen how patience, understanding, and consistency can transform a child’s outlook on school. Even small achievements, such as reading a paragraph independently or expressing an idea clearly, can build confidence and independence. These experiences have shown me that making a difference does not always require grand actions. It begins with listening, encouraging, and believing in someone who may not yet believe in themselves. As I pursue my college education, I anticipate both academic and financial obstacles. College level coursework will require extensive reading and writing, which can be challenging with dyslexia. However, I have developed strong study habits, time management skills, and self advocacy strategies that allow me to succeed. I use assistive technology, structured schedules, and accommodations when needed, and I am not afraid to seek help when challenges arise. These skills have helped me remain determined and resilient, and they will continue to guide me through higher education. Financial challenges are another obstacle I expect to face. The cost of college can be overwhelming, but I plan to manage this through scholarships, part time work, and careful budgeting. Receiving this scholarship would reduce financial stress and allow me to focus more fully on my education and community involvement. It would also bring me closer to achieving my long term goal of serving students who need encouragement and understanding. My greatest passion is helping others feel seen, capable, and supported. Education has the power to shape confidence, opportunity, and self worth. By pursuing a career in education and speech language pathology, I hope to empower students who struggle academically or socially and help them realize their potential. The Rev. Frank W. Steward Memorial Scholarship represents perseverance and service, values that guide my journey. Through my career and continued volunteer work, I plan to honor those values by making a positive and lasting impact on the world, one student at a time.

Teachers are the foundation of our world. They shape the minds of the next generation, not just by teaching lessons from a book, but by believing in the potential of every student who walks through their classroom doors. I know this because my life has been profoundly shaped by teachers both the ones who saw my challenges and the ones who saw my possibilities. When I was diagnosed with dyslexia at six years old, reading and writing became daily battles. Words that seemed to flow effortlessly for others often looked like tangled puzzles to me. In fifth grade, I was told by a reading specialist that I would “never be able to read.” For years, that sentence echoed in my mind. But what changed my life was not that prediction it was the teachers who refused to accept it. They adapted lessons, gave me extra time, and most importantly, treated me like I was capable. They taught me that success doesn’t come from fitting in, but from finding your own way to learn. Those experiences sparked my desire to pursue a career in education, because I want to become the kind of teacher who helps students see their strengths instead of their struggles. I understand how it feels to sit in a classroom feeling different, to work twice as hard for half the results, and to wish someone would just understand. That empathy is what drives me. I want to make sure every child especially those with learning disabilities feels supported, believed in, and seen. My teachers were more than educators; they were lifelines. They built my confidence, one encouraging word at a time. Their faith in me helped me challenge the limits others placed on me. Because of them, I pushed myself academically, advocated for accommodations, and earned my place in advanced courses. Each victory reminded me that education is not just about academics it’s about perseverance, compassion, and growth. As I look toward my future, I plan to major in education and special education, combining my lived experience with professional training to reach students who learn differently. I want to design lessons that engage multiple senses, celebrate diverse learning styles, and create classrooms where curiosity outweighs comparison. My goal is to become a teacher who doesn’t just prepare students for tests, but helps them build confidence, self-worth, and a lifelong love of learning. Teachers don’t just teach subjects they shape lives. They spark curiosity, inspire resilience, and lay the foundation for everything that follows. The best teachers are the ones who see potential in every child, no matter how they learn. I want to be one of those teachers. Because of the teachers who believed in me, I discovered my voice. Now, I want to spend my life helping others discover theirs.

“You’ll never be able to read.” Those words weren’t said in anger they were delivered with cold, clinical certainty by a fifth-grade reading specialist. At nine years old, already struggling to reconcile my love of stories with severe dyslexia, that sentence felt like a verdict on my future. My IEP was supposed to open doors, but too often it felt like a lock. Teachers would sigh when I asked for extra time, and administrators questioned whether I “belonged” in advanced classes. I was fighting the system for permission to even try. Every day became a negotiation between what I knew I could do and what others assumed I couldn’t. Reading a single page could take twice as long, writing essays required hours of planning, rewriting, and voice-to-text software. Being singled out for my differences made me question whether I truly belonged in classrooms where “smart” was measured only by speed and spelling. Still, I refused to let dyslexia define my limits. My mom became my fiercest ally, sitting beside me through late-night study sessions and IEP meetings that often felt like battles. Together, we learned that advocacy is not about confrontation it’s about persistence. Slowly, I began to take ownership of that process myself. I started speaking up when teachers forgot my accommodations, writing my own progress updates, and pushing for opportunities I’d been denied. My sophomore year became a turning point. After months of advocating, I finally persuaded my counselor to let me enroll in two AICE (Advanced International Certificate of Education) classes “just to see if I could handle it.” That small victory meant more than a schedule change. It was the moment I proved that I could thrive when given the same opportunities as everyone else. Each essay I completed and each exam I passed wasn’t just an academic success it was evidence that my determination could outshine doubt. As my confidence grew, so did my purpose. I realized that my advocacy could help others too. I began mentoring younger students with IEPs, helping them understand their rights and encouraging them to use their voices. I wanted them to see that their accommodations weren’t signs of weakness they were tools for success. Every time one of them told me, “You make me feel like I can do it too,” I understood that my struggle had created something powerful: empathy. Winning second place in my district’s literary competition was the moment everything came full circle. The same girl once told she’d never be able to read was being recognized for her writing. But to me, the real victory wasn’t the award it was the journey. Every missed word, every reread page, and every late night study session had built the resilience that carried me there. What inspires me to continue pursuing education is simple: I want to become the person I once needed. I plan to major in Psychology and later become a Speech-Language Pathologist. I know what it’s like to have ideas bigger than the words you can get out and I want to help students find their voices sooner than I found mine. Living with dyslexia has taught me that intelligence isn’t defined by how fast you read or how neatly you write it’s measured by how hard you fight for your understanding. My IEP didn’t hold me back it became my blueprint for persistence. The same challenge that once silenced me has now fueled my voice, my purpose, and my unshakable belief that no child should ever be told what they can’t do before they’ve had the chance to try.