My future is centered on service, leadership, and creating opportunities for others. From a young age, I have understood the value of hard work and perseverance, watching my parents navigate life as Haitian immigrants in America. Their dedication taught me that success is not given, it is earned through effort, resilience, and commitment. Those lessons have guided me throughout my education and work experience, shaping the goals I have set for myself and the impact I want to make in the world. After earning my Associate of Arts degree, I made the decision to take a gap year to earn my law enforcement certification. That experience gave me hands-on exposure to public service and taught me lessons that no classroom could provide. I learned the importance of integrity, responsibility, and leadership under pressure. I also learned that helping people in their most vulnerable moments requires empathy and composure. That year reaffirmed my commitment to pursue a career in a field where I can serve my community while continuing to grow as a leader and professional. Since then, I have worked multiple jobs while pursuing my bachelor’s degree in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. Balancing work and school has been challenging, but it has strengthened my discipline, time management, and resilience. It has also deepened my understanding of what it means to work for something you truly care about. I have learned to approach every task with focus and dedication and to never take opportunities for granted. These experiences have prepared me to handle future professional challenges and to approach them with confidence and purpose. My long-term goal is to work in global security or public service, focusing on creating systems and programs that improve safety, opportunity, and quality of life for marginalized communities. I want to ensure that people who are often overlooked have access to the resources, support, and guidance they need to succeed. I also want to mentor and inspire the next generation, showing young people that no matter their background or obstacles, they can achieve their goals if they are persistent and willing to work hard. My personal journey has shown me the value of role models and support systems, and I want to provide the same guidance to others that I benefited from during my life. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue building toward this vision. Financial support would allow me to dedicate more time and energy to my studies, internships, and professional development without the constant worry of balancing school and work. It would also enable me to explore additional leadership opportunities, community service projects, and mentorship programs that align with my goals of uplifting others. Beyond the financial assistance, this scholarship would validate the values I have committed to, resilience, perseverance, and dedication to making a positive impact. It would allow me to continue pursuing my education and career with focus, purpose, and confidence. Ultimately, my plans for the future are not only about personal achievement. They are about creating pathways, opening doors, and lifting others up along the way. I want to serve my community, influence positive change, and inspire others to reach their potential. This scholarship would be an investment in that vision, giving me the support I need to continue my journey, fulfill my potential, and make a lasting impact on the world.

I have never had a smooth or predictable path. My life has been shaped by uncertainty, long work hours, academic detours, and the constant pressure to prove that I deserve to take up space. What makes me a non-traditional student is not just the obstacles I have faced, but the way I have had to rebuild myself every time something knocked me down. I grew up in a Haitian household where working hard was not a goal. It was a survival skill. My family taught me that life would rarely open doors for people like us. We learn to build our own. After I earned my Associate’s degree, I took a gap year to get my law enforcement certification. I wanted real experience and a stronger sense of direction. The academy was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I walked in wanting to prove that I belonged. I walked in wanting to make my family proud. Somewhere along the way, I hit a wall. I failed a block. It felt like the ground disappeared under me. I remember sitting alone after receiving my results with a knot in my throat and this overwhelming heaviness in my chest. I felt stupid. I felt unfit to serve. I felt like every sacrifice I made to be there, every part of my story that pushed me to chase this dream, was for nothing. Failing made me feel like I had let my family down and confirmed every fear I had about not being enough. But failure is strange. When it hurts that deeply, it has a way of forcing you to grow. I learned something that changed me. Failing is not the end of the road. It is a new path to the same destination. That moment taught me more about myself than any success ever has. I learned that courage is not about always getting things right. Courage is about standing up again after you fall, even when your confidence is shattered. Finishing the academy became more than a goal. It became proof that setbacks do not define me. What defines me is how I respond to them. Taking the gap year, going through the academy, failing a block, and finishing anyway shaped the way I approach everything. It taught me to keep going even when things fall apart. It taught me that I do not have to move in a straight line to move forward. That lesson came back to me again when I kept changing majors and delaying my graduation. I used to feel embarrassed about that. I used to think it made me look unfocused. Now I understand that it was part of becoming who I want to be. I refused to settle for a path that did not fit me, even when it meant starting over. Working while attending school has been another constant test. Balancing shifts, deadlines, exhaustion, and expectations has stretched me in every direction. It has also made me stronger. There were days when I had to choose between sleep and staying on top of my assignments. There were days when meals had to wait. There were nights when I had to convince myself that I could keep going for one more hour. Working while being a student has forced me to be disciplined, self-driven, and adaptable. It has taught me that no amount of pressure can break me if my purpose stays intact. Being a minority student has shaped every part of this journey. I have fought to be respected in the world for being Haitian. I have fought to be understood in systems that were not designed for people like me. That constant pressure taught me resilience. It taught me bravery. It gave me a determination that comes from knowing that I carry my family’s sacrifices with me. I learned to advocate for myself because silence would never protect me. I learned to stand firm because shrinking myself would never make life easier. Being Haitian taught me pride, strength, and the importance of community. It taught me to lift others up because I know how heavy it feels to fight alone. My experiences have pushed me to become someone who listens, who encourages, who offers support when others feel overlooked or underestimated. I try to carry myself with kindness because I know what it feels like to need a lifeline. I try to be patient because I know what it feels like to feel lost. I try to show compassion because I know what it feels like to fail and have to climb out of that darkness. There is one moment I often return to when I think about who I am becoming. It is the moment after I failed that block in the academy. I remember wiping my face, standing up, and telling myself, You are not done. That was the moment I realized how determined I really am. It was the moment I understood that perseverance is built in the moments where giving up feels easier. That moment has guided every academic setback, every major change, every long shift, every exhausted night, and every decision to keep moving forward. My goal is to serve my community in a role where I can create safety, empowerment, and opportunity. My path may not be traditional, but my purpose has always been to uplift others. This scholarship would ease the financial pressure that weighs on me daily and give me room to focus on becoming the leader and advocate I know I can be. It would show that people like me, with winding paths and rough beginnings, are still worthy of investment. I have never had the easy road, but I have always had the courage to stay on it. That is what defines me. That is what will carry me forward

My name is Raygan St. Preux, and for as long as I can remember, I have carried a deep desire to make the world safer, softer, and more just for women. Especially Black women and girls who are so often overlooked, unheard, and unprotected. I grew up without the perfect words to explain what I was seeing, but I recognized imbalance. I recognized what it felt like to walk into rooms where women had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. I also recognized the weight that settles on young girls who learn too early that the world is not always designed with their safety or growth in mind. When I was a sophomore in high school, my home was robbed. The loss of our belongings was painful, but it was the loss of peace that shaped me. I remember standing in the middle of my room, realizing that the place that was supposed to protect me had been invaded. That moment stayed with me. It opened my eyes to how fragile safety can be. It forced me to see how many women grow up navigating fear and instability. It also pushed me toward purpose. Instead of letting fear become a permanent part of me, I chose to let it make me stronger. It taught me that safety is not a luxury. It is a right, and too many women do not have access to it. This experience is one of the many reasons I chose to study Global Security and International Affairs. I paired my major with a minor in Psychology because I want to understand both the systems that shape our world and the people who live inside those systems. I want to understand how policies affect real lives and how emotions, trauma, and lived experience influence the way women move through the world. Too often, women’s needs are dismissed. Their goals are minimized. Their pain is overlooked in classrooms, hospitals, workplaces, and even in their own homes. Women are expected to endure more than anyone should have to endure. But endurance is not the same thing as empowerment. My career goal is to work in global security and community advocacy. I want to help redesign the structures that fail women. I want to develop policies, lead programs, and create community based solutions that prioritize safety, autonomy, and mental well being for women and girls. I want to step into rooms that were never built for us and help rebuild them so that women can walk in confidently and without fear. Right now, I give back by doing community service, mentorship, and advocacy that directly supports women and girls. I have seen the difference it makes when a woman feels protected, believed, and valued. I have watched girls stand taller when someone invests in them. These are the moments that remind me why this work matters so much. I want my career to ripple outward. I want my impact to reach women I may never meet. I want to help create a world where women feel safe, where their voices matter, and where their dreams are nurtured and respected. Supporting women is not just something I care about. It is the core of who I am and the future I am committed to building.

My “pie in the sky” dream is to build a global youth empowerment network that reaches kids who grew up like me. I want to create mentorship programs, leadership pipelines, and international opportunities for young people who come from immigrant families, low income households, or communities where dreams feel too expensive to even imagine. It sounds huge, almost unreal, like something I am not supposed to reach for. But it has lived in me since I was young, long before I could put words to it. The spark came from growing up Haitian in America. From a young age, I watched my parents work themselves to the bone to provide for us, and I saw how much potential existed in my community even though we were often overlooked or underestimated. I saw brilliant students drop dreams because of fear, money, family pressure, or lack of guidance. I saw kids hide their identities and shrink their voices. And I understood that feeling more than anyone because I lived it. I knew what it felt like to walk into a room and feel like the world had already decided who you would be before you even opened your mouth. For a long time, I was one of those kids who doubted myself. Being Haitian made me fight for respect in the outside world, and being queer made me fight for respect in my own community. Those battles wore me down, but they also built me. They sparked a fire in me to make sure other young people do not have to fight alone. My dream grew from that place. I want to create a global system that tells young people that they matter, that their dreams are possible, and that they are allowed to take up space. To reach this dream, I know I need education, experience, and influence. That is why I am studying Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. I want to understand how systems work, how communities move, and how identity impacts opportunity. I want to learn how to build programs that last, not just spark for a moment. Every job I work, every leadership role I take, and every opportunity I chase is part of building the foundation for something much bigger than me. I imagine myself one day creating partnerships across countries, connecting students to internships abroad, building mentorship circles, and giving young leaders the resources I wish I had. I want to stand in rooms where decisions are made and bring other people with me. I want to show younger generations that they can be different and successful, and that their voices are powerful even when the world is loud. My dream scares me sometimes because it feels enormous. It requires courage, connections, and a level of impact I am still growing into. But I also know that everything in my life has prepared me for it. The struggles, the identity battles, the pressure, the jobs, the long nights of pushing through school, and the determination I carry from my parents have all created the foundation for the version of me who will one day make this dream real. My “pie in the sky” is big, but so am I. And I am committed to becoming the kind of leader who turns that distant dream into something real, something global, and something that changes lives the way my community changed mine.

Growing up Haitian came with a lot of pride but also a lot of pressure. I loved my culture, my family, and our traditions, but I also felt like I didn’t fully belong in the world or even in my own home. Being gay made that even harder. In the outside world, I had to fight just to be respected because I am Haitian. People assumed things about me, stereotypes followed me, and I constantly had to prove that I was smart, capable, and worthy of being seen. I learned early that nothing would be given to me. I had to take it. The hardest fight was in my own community. Being gay in a Haitian household meant hiding parts of myself, pretending I was someone I was not, and worrying about judgment from the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally. I hated feeling like I had to apologize for existing. I hated that my identity, something so personal and real, made me feel like I had to fight to be respected where I should have felt safe. Those experiences hurt, but they also made me stronger. They forced me to be brave in ways I did not know I could be. I learned to stand my ground, speak my truth, and embrace every part of who I am. My name is Raygan StPreux, and my identity has shaped everything I do. It is why I work so hard, why I take on responsibilities, and why I refuse to settle for less than I deserve. I have worked multiple jobs while pursuing my education, which has given me firsthand experience with the struggles people face when opportunities are not handed to them. These experiences taught me resilience, empathy, and the importance of being visible. I want to be a resource for people who feel overlooked or underestimated. I want to create spaces where others feel seen, valued, and empowered. I am currently pursuing a degree in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. I want to use my education to advocate for marginalized communities, create mentorship programs, and develop initiatives that provide opportunities for people who face barriers similar to the ones I have overcome. I hope to be a visible example for younger generations, showing them that being different is not a weakness. It is a strength. Being Haitian taught me pride and culture, being gay taught me courage, and living through both has given me a perspective that can inspire, lead, and create change. In the future, I want to take my experiences, education, and work ethic to make a meaningful impact. Whether through mentorship, advocacy, or professional initiatives, I want to uplift communities and challenge inequities. I want to show people who feel like they do not belong that their identities are powerful and that they can succeed in any field or degree they choose. Everything I have gone through, the fights, the pain, the fear of rejection, made me who I am. I am braver, stronger, and more resilient because of it. I carry that with me into every space I enter, every job I take, and every community I serve. My identity is not just a part of me. It is the force that drives me to succeed and to make the world a little more just for those who come after me.

I remember one night when I was about eight years old, sitting at the kitchen table under the dim light of a single bulb while my parents balanced bills and paperwork. My mom had just come home from a long day at her accounting job, exhausted, and my dad was on a late-night call for work. I watched them struggle but never complain, determined to provide for our family. In that moment, I realized that life would not hand me opportunities; I would have to create them myself. Growing up as the child of Haitian immigrants and a first-generation college student, I learned that perseverance, resilience, and hard work are the keys to turning challenges into growth. Watching my parents navigate obstacles while holding our family together inspired me to dedicate my life to helping others and creating opportunities for those who may not have the same support I have been fortunate to receive. My name is Raygan StPreux, and from a young age, I knew I wanted to be someone who makes a meaningful difference in the world. I am pursuing a degree in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. These fields combine my passion for understanding systems and human behavior with my desire to advocate for and empower communities that have historically faced inequities. My goal is to use my education to address systemic barriers and create programs, policies, and mentorship opportunities that help people succeed despite challenging circumstances. I want to be a visible example for younger generations, showing them that they can be different, follow their passions, and succeed in any field or degree they choose. Growing up in a low-income household taught me resilience, adaptability, and empathy. I have worked multiple jobs to support my family while excelling in school and taking on leadership roles in my community. These experiences strengthened my problem-solving and time management skills and reinforced my commitment to giving back. I want to be a mentor and resource for those who face similar obstacles. Whether through community programs, workshops, or mentorship, I hope to guide others toward achieving their goals while empowering them to believe in their potential. Receiving this scholarship would be a tremendous support on my journey. It would alleviate financial burdens and allow me to focus on gaining academic and professional experiences that will prepare me to create lasting change. With this support, I could pursue internships, research opportunities, and community initiatives that expand my knowledge and capacity to make a difference. I could also dedicate more time to mentorship and advocacy, ensuring that I am helping others while continuing to grow myself. Ultimately, my goal is to use my experiences, education, and professional skills to uplift communities, challenge inequities, and provide guidance and resources for those who need it most. I want to be remembered not only for my achievements but also for the ways I helped others along the way. My life has been shaped by resilience, hard work, and the lessons I learned from watching my parents persevere. I hope to carry those lessons forward by creating opportunities, inspiring younger generations, and leaving a meaningful and lasting impact on the world.

I remember sitting in church as a kid, watching my family sing and pray, and feeling completely out of place. I knew I was different. I was pansexual and nonbinary, but in that space, being different felt wrong. I remember hiding who I was, measuring every word I spoke, and wondering if I would ever be fully accepted. Those moments were hard. I felt confused, alone, and like I had to choose between my identity and the people I loved. But over time, I learned to navigate tough conversations, stand up for myself, and find little spaces where I could truly be seen. Those experiences taught me resilience, self-awareness, and the courage to embrace who I am, even when it felt like the world wasn’t ready. These experiences have shaped what I want to do with my education and my life. I want to provide examples and role models for younger generations to show them that you can be different and still succeed in any field or degree you want. I want to pursue a degree in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology to show that someone like me can thrive in spaces that might seem challenging or unconventional. By sharing my experiences and achievements, I hope to inspire LGBTQ+ youth and others from marginalized backgrounds to go after their passions and not let anyone else’s expectations limit them. I want them to see that being different is not a weakness but a strength. Getting this scholarship would lift a huge weight off my shoulders. It would let me focus on my studies, take on internships and research opportunities, and dedicate more time to advocacy and community work. Financial support would also allow me to get more involved in programs that provide mentorship, safe spaces, and resources for LGBTQ+ youth and other marginalized communities. It would give me the freedom to continue building the skills I need to make a real difference. Growing up as a nonbinary, pansexual individual in a Haitian SDA home has taught me resilience, empathy, and the power of being visible. I want to turn my experiences into action, fighting for LGBTQ+ rights, challenging inequities, and lifting others up. This scholarship would not just support my education. It would give me the chance to turn my journey into real impact, be a role model for younger generations, and inspire others to chase their dreams while staying true to themselves.

Coming from a low-income household has taught me that nothing worth achieving comes without effort. Growing up, I watched my parents work tirelessly to provide for our family. There were times when bills piled up, resources were scarce, and opportunities seemed just out of reach. Seeing their sacrifices inspired me to work harder and to find creative ways to overcome obstacles. It taught me resilience, discipline, and that setbacks are challenges to be met with focus and determination. This experience has shaped how I approach my goals. I have learned to manage my time carefully, balance multiple responsibilities, and keep moving forward even when outcomes are uncertain. I work jobs to support my education, take my studies seriously, and actively seek opportunities that bring me closer to my career aspirations in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. I understand that my success is not just for me but also a way to honor the sacrifices my family has made. I plan to use my life experience to make a positive impact by empowering communities and creating opportunities for those facing similar challenges. I want to work in roles that address systemic inequalities and provide tools, resources, and mentorship to help individuals rise above obstacles that might otherwise limit them. Right now, I am actively pursuing my goals by excelling academically, seeking internships, and gaining work experience that strengthens my skills in leadership, problem-solving, and communication. I also dedicate time to volunteering and supporting causes that give back to my community. Growing up in a low-income household has instilled in me the resilience to persevere and the empathy to uplift others. I want to transform my experiences into action, create opportunities, and make a lasting positive impact in my community and beyond.

Being a first-generation student means walking into the unknown with nothing but determination and the lessons my parents taught me. As the child of Haitian immigrants, I grew up watching my parents sacrifice everything for a life they never had. I watched them work long hours, sometimes through the night, to make sure I had opportunities they never dreamed of. I saw exhaustion etched into their faces, and I knew that if I failed, I would be letting down more than just myself. Growing up, I had to navigate challenges most kids my age never faced. College applications, financial aid forms, and career decisions were puzzles I had to solve alone, often learning as I went. There were times I felt completely overwhelmed, like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I questioned if I could actually succeed in spaces where people seemed to already have a roadmap. But those moments of doubt became fuel. I realized that being first-generation doesn’t mean being unprepared; it means being resilient, resourceful, and relentless. I have worked jobs to help support my family while keeping up with classes, deadlines, and personal responsibilities. I have learned patience in moments of frustration, discipline when motivation faltered, and creativity when solutions were nowhere in sight. Each challenge reminded me that giving up was never an option, because my goals were bigger than my fears. Every obstacle became proof that I could endure more than I thought possible, and that determination could carry me farther than luck or circumstance ever could. This scholarship would change everything. It would give me the space to focus fully on my education and personal growth without the constant pressure of financial strain. It would allow me to chase opportunities I could not otherwise reach and bring me closer to my dream of working in Global Security and International Affairs with a minor in Psychology. More than that, it would empower me to serve communities that face the same barriers I know too well—marginalization, lack of resources, and systemic inequities. What drives me is more than ambition; it is a responsibility. I want to show younger students, especially those from immigrant or first-generation backgrounds, that they can rise above the challenges they face. I want to create pathways, opportunities, and mentorships so others do not have to navigate alone like I did. This scholarship is not just financial support—it is a lifeline to continue my journey and to honor the sacrifices that built me. Being a first-generation student and a child of Haitian immigrants has taught me to embrace struggle, to see challenges as stepping stones, and to never stop pushing forward. I will carry that fire with me in everything I do, and this scholarship would help me turn that fire into real impact for myself and the communities I want to serve.

Giving back has always felt natural to me, not like something I have to do. Right now, I do that most through my role as Community Service Chair of Sigma Lambda Gamma at Florida A&M University. For me, service isn’t just about checking off a list. It’s about showing up, listening, and making a real difference. I organize events, build partnerships, and make sure the help we provide actually reaches the people who need it most. One of my favorite experiences was coordinating meal donations and community programs that support young girls and local families in Tallahassee. Seeing the impact firsthand really drives home that even small acts of kindness can make a big difference. My work experience has shaped how I give back too. Every job I’ve had—whether helping customers, working with teammates, or managing tasks—has taught me patience, empathy, and leadership. I’ve learned how to connect with people, listen to their needs, and step up instead of waiting for someone else. Giving back isn’t always about big projects. Sometimes it’s just about making someone’s day a little easier or making a space more welcoming. Looking ahead, I want to take this further by combining my passion for service with my studies in Global Security and International Affairs and my minor in Psychology. My goal is to work in a field where I can help communities on a larger scale, whether through policy, community programs, or international projects. I want to tackle the systems that create inequality, not just the symptoms. Understanding people and the structures around them is how I hope to create real, lasting change. I also plan to keep building initiatives that last beyond my time at FAMU. I want to mentor younger students, keep partnering with organizations that empower Black girls and women, and create programs that focus on education, safety, and mental health. Eventually, I hope to start or support a nonprofit that provides resources, mentorship, and safe spaces for youth to grow, especially young women of color. Giving back is part of who I am now and who I want to be in the future. My Gamma experience taught me leadership, unity, and purposeful service. My work experience taught me how to communicate, organize, and connect with people. Together, these lessons have prepared me to give back today and make a lasting, meaningful impact as I move forward in my career and life.

I want a career where I can help keep people safe and protect communities that often feel overlooked. When I was a sophomore in high school, my house was robbed. I remember coming home and realizing someone had been inside our space, touching our things, leaving behind fear that stayed long after they were gone. That moment changed me. It taught me how deeply safety shapes a person’s life. It also showed me the kind of person I wanted to become. Someone who stands between people and the moments that make them feel unsafe and unprotected. My future career will be in public safety where I can prevent harm, respond to crises, and create safer systems for others. I want to bring a sense of protection to families who have felt the same fear I once felt. I want to be someone people can trust to show up and make things better. Being Black to me means carrying strength, creativity, resilience, and history that lives in everything I do. It means knowing that my success is not just mine. It adds to a legacy that stretches far beyond me. It also means moving with pride even when the world tries to dim our light. I chose to attend an HBCU because I wanted to learn in a space where I felt understood, supported, and seen. I wanted a community that celebrates Blackness, pushes me to grow, and reminds me that I can aim as high as I want.

The night my house was robbed when I was a sophomore in high school changed me in ways I did not fully understand at the time. I remember walking through the front door, seeing drawers pulled out and belongings scattered everywhere, and feeling a kind of silence I had never felt before. It was the silence of knowing someone had been in our home, touched our things, and taken our sense of safety with them. That moment became the spark that shaped my passion for public safety and my desire to make a real difference in my community. If given the opportunity, I want to improve my community by helping people feel safe, prepared, and supported. What I felt that night sticks with me. When your personal space is violated, it changes the way you see the world. You start triple-checking locks. You sleep lightly. You walk into rooms a little slower, just in case. But more than anything, you wish someone had been there to protect your home the same way you try to protect your peace. That feeling is why I am so committed to public safety. It is why I want to build programs that help families feel secure before tragedy happens, not after. One of the ways I want to improve my community is by creating workshops for young people and families about safety awareness, prevention, and preparedness. Most people, especially teenagers, do not know what to do in emergencies or how to reduce risk in their homes and neighborhoods. I want to teach the things I wish I knew earlier: how to stay aware without being afraid, how to protect your home, what to look out for, and how to respond when something feels off. Knowledge is empowering. It can turn fear into confidence and uncertainty into preparedness. I also want to focus on supporting teens who have been through traumatic events, whether it is a break-in, violence in their neighborhood, or family instability. When my house was robbed, people around me assumed I was fine because nothing happened to me physically. But emotionally, I felt exposed. I felt like the world had shifted and no one really noticed. I want to create support spaces where teens can talk openly, learn coping skills, and have someone truly listen. No one should carry that kind of fear or confusion alone. This work is important to me because I know what it feels like to lose your sense of safety, and I also know what it feels like to rebuild it. I want to help others rebuild theirs too. Strengthening my community is not just about preventing crime. It is about restoring peace, building trust, and helping people feel protected in their own space. Safety is a basic need, and when people have it, everything else in life becomes easier to manage. My passion for public safety comes from a real place, a personal place. And given the opportunity, I will use it to help create safer homes, safer neighborhoods, and a stronger community for the next young person who deserves to feel secure.

The night my house was robbed when I was a sophomore in high school changed me in ways I did not fully understand at the time. I remember walking through the front door, seeing drawers pulled out and belongings scattered everywhere, and feeling a kind of silence I had never felt before. It was the silence of knowing someone had been in our home, touched our things, and taken our sense of safety with them. That moment became the spark that shaped my passion for public safety and my desire to make a real difference in my community. If given the opportunity, I want to improve my community by helping people feel safe, prepared, and supported. What I felt that night sticks with me. When your personal space is violated, it changes the way you see the world. You start triple-checking locks. You sleep lightly. You walk into rooms a little slower, just in case. But more than anything, you wish someone had been there to protect your home the same way you try to protect your peace. That feeling is why I am so committed to public safety. It is why I want to build programs that help families feel secure before tragedy happens, not after. One of the ways I want to improve my community is by creating workshops for young people and families about safety awareness, prevention, and preparedness. Most people, especially teenagers, do not know what to do in emergencies or how to reduce risk in their homes and neighborhoods. I want to teach the things I wish I knew earlier: how to stay aware without being afraid, how to protect your home, what to look out for, and how to respond when something feels off. Knowledge is empowering. It can turn fear into confidence and uncertainty into preparedness. I also want to focus on supporting teens who have been through traumatic events, whether it is a break-in, violence in their neighborhood, or family instability. When my house was robbed, people around me assumed I was fine because nothing happened to me physically. But emotionally, I felt exposed. I felt like the world had shifted and no one really noticed. I want to create support spaces where teens can talk openly, learn coping skills, and have someone truly listen. No one should carry that kind of fear or confusion alone. This work is important to me because I know what it feels like to lose your sense of safety, and I also know what it feels like to rebuild it. I want to help others rebuild theirs too. Strengthening my community is not just about preventing crime. It is about restoring peace, building trust, and helping people feel protected in their own space. Safety is a basic need, and when people have it, everything else in life becomes easier to manage. My passion for public safety comes from a real place, a personal place. And given the opportunity, I will use it to help create safer homes, safer neighborhoods, and a stronger community for the next young person who deserves to feel secure.

Growing up as the youngest of six siblings in a family of Haitian immigrants, I witnessed resilience and strength manifest in daily life. My parents worked tirelessly to provide for us, often juggling multiple jobs to secure a better future. Their sacrifices instilled in me a deep appreciation for hard work and determination, qualities that became the cornerstones of my aspirations. My journey in public safety, particularly in law enforcement and dispatching, was profoundly shaped by a formative experience during my senior year of high school. One night, while volunteering at a community event, I observed a young boy, no older than ten, distressed and lost amidst the crowd. His family was frantic, calling out his name, overwhelmed by anxiety. As I approached, I felt a surge of empathy; I knew what it felt like to be overlooked and vulnerable. With calm assurance, I engaged the boy in conversation and guided him to the information desk, where his tearful parents awaited. In that moment, I realized the power of being a listener and a facilitator of safety. It was a small act, but witnessing relief wash over that family ignited a passion within me. I wanted to be someone who could help bridge gaps and foster safety in communities. This passion led me to my current career, but the road hasn't been easy. Balancing the demands of a full-time job while pursuing my studies has come with its own hurdles. Navigating the complexities of being a non-binary AFAB individual, often feeling overlooked in both academic and professional settings, has presented challenges that tested my resolve. But each obstacle reinforced my desire to be a leader in public safety, ensuring that every individual regardless of their background feels heard and protected. My goal is to create environments where diversity is embraced, and people feel valued. The scholarship I am applying for represents more than just financial support; it symbolizes an investment in the community I aspire to strengthen. With these funds, I can further my education in a field that not only intrigues me but where I can make a significant impact. This scholarship will help alleviate the financial burdens of tuition and allow me to focus on honing my skills, enhancing my knowledge in public safety, and ultimately, serving my community better. By following my dreams, I hope to uplift others and make a lasting difference in the world around me.

Growing up in a vibrant Haitian household, I learned early on the importance of resilience and community. As a first-generation non-binary AFAB student, life has presented its share of challenges. My family’s immigrant journey taught me the value of hard work and the necessity of seizing every opportunity. We faced financial hardships, living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment with limited resources, and for a time, I experienced the uncertainty of housing instability. Despite these obstacles, I’ve found strength in my dreams and aspirations. My passion for languages and travel first ignited during childhood when my siblings shared their stories of cultural exploration. Now, as I balance a full-time job in public safety, primarily in law enforcement and dispatching, my dreams are becoming clearer. I envision a future where I can bridge the gap between communities and law enforcement, promoting understanding and compassion through awareness programs focusing on diversity. Community involvement is crucial to me. Volunteering at local shelters and participating in outreach programs has shown me that change begins at home. I’ve organized workshops to educate young people about personal safety and emergency response, helping foster a sense of empowerment and preparedness. This scholarship will be a cornerstone in my journey, easing the financial burden of furthering my education and allowing me to focus on honing my leadership skills. With these resources, I can pursue a degree that complements my work in public safety while enabling me to travel and immerse myself in different cultures. Ultimately, this scholarship will not only help me achieve my professional aspirations but also amplify my commitment to community betterment, empowering me to give back and inspire others who face similar challenges. Through this platform, I aim to speak for those who feel unheard, transforming my experiences into a beacon of hope.

Dear Selection Committee, I am honored to submit my application for the esteemed Elijah's Helping Hand Scholarship Award. As a Black Caribbean nonbinary individual, I have faced unique challenges that derive from the intersection of my gender identity with the cultural, societal, and religious norms prevalent in the Caribbean. These experiences have significantly impacted my life, shaping my academic goals as a Political Science and Government major, with continued studies in Public Policy and Administration in Florida A & M University. The significant mental health challenges I experienced as a nonbinary person in the Caribbean were primarily due to a societal void in acceptance and understanding of my identity. This resulted in feelings of dysphoria, isolation, and sometimes discrimination, significantly affecting my self-esteem, spurting periods of depression and anxiety. Both inside and outside the classroom, my identity made me invisible, leading me to pursue an academic path aligned with policy-making, hoping to shape more inclusive communities and to increase culturally competent mental health services. Furthermore, such feelings of disconnect and isolation can potentially lead LGBTQIA+ individuals to contemplate suicide, an outcome distressingly prevalent in our community, as a direct result of societal rejection, stigma, and lack of access to supportive resources. As a nonbinary individual, I have been exposed to these harsh realities and observe the dire need for change. This realization inspired my academic journey, prompting me to explore the intricacies of public policy and administration, with an aim to develop comprehensive supportive services that truly address the unique needs of LGBTQIA+ individuals. Moreover, the Caribbean region tends to stigmatize LGBTQIA+ identities. As a nonbinary individual, I experienced discrimination, exclusion from LGBTQIA+ advocacy efforts, and a persistent lack of access to gender-affirming healthcare. These hurdles fueled my interest in political science and fostered a passion for advocacy. They directed my efforts towards forming a society that recognizes and respects all identities, irrespective of their gender. My experiences as a Caribbean nonbinary person have significantly impacted my life, primarily my academic trajectory, as they exposed the depth of LGBTQIA+ discrimination, mental health disparities, and suicide risk. I believe in the power of education, advocacy, and policy change, which are paramount in addressing these critical issues. In the light of stated experiences, I vehemently reiterate my commitment towards promoting acceptance, visibility, and social equity for individuals across all gender identities and expressions. In conclusion, I am applying for this scholarship considering that it will enable me to complete my education and further my advocacy. I aim to use my experiences to foster an environment where nonbinary and other LGBTQIA+ individuals do not just merely survive, but thrive in all aspects of life, free from discrimination, while enjoying uninhibited access to resources they deserve. Sincerely, Raygan St Preux

As a rising Junior at Florida A & M University, studying Political Science/Government and Public Policy & Administration, I strongly affirm that our mental health and physical wellness play a critical role in shaping us into productive individuals. Being a student has, indisputably, a series of complexities woven around it, such as incessant pressure, high demands of academic work, and unhealthy coping mechanisms – all of which have a profound impact on one's mental and physical well-being. However, maintaining a balanced mental health is not just important for tackling these challenges, but it is also pivotal for quality student life. High school taught me one crucial fact: my cognitive abilities directly relate to my mental and physical wellness. My 3.8 GPA was a testament to this understanding. When I am mentally and physically well, I can focus better, retain information effectively, and, most importantly, it enables me to shield myself from succumbing to burnout or anxiety, consequently improving my academic performance and overall quality of life. Cognizant of the aforementioned understanding, I have always sought ways to maintain my mental wellness in college, especially facing an excruciating grind daily. My majors – Political Science and Public Policy & Administration – require an intensive level of commitment, research, and understanding. Combating this is no easy feat, but my approach is to approach everything methodologically. My mental wellness regimen ranges from allotting specific 'me-time,' incorporating physical fitness into my daily routine, maintaining a balanced nutritional diet to holding regular discussions with my support group. One particular aspect of this routine is the 'me-time,’ where I distance myself from all sorts of pressure. This allocated time allows me to indulge in activities that I enjoy, or simply, be at peace with my solitude. It's this disconnection and tranquility that spirits me for the academic struggles. Physical fitness has also proven to be significantly influential; it not only provides an outlet to channel my stress but also boosts my concentration levels. Lastly, discussions with my support group - family and friends - help me gain perspectives, making me feel less lonely and more able to cope with the pressures involved in university life. Meanwhile, I ensure to distance myself from unhealthy coping mechanisms, resorting to my mental wellness regimen instead. I am are fully aware that such behaviors pose a risk to my overall well-being, and the threat it implies is not just restricted to the present circumstances, but can have long-term detrimental impacts. Undeniably, there are challenges, but I remain committed to overcoming these obstacles, and by doing so, strive to better myself not just academically but also holistically. In conclusion, being a prospective recipient of the Mental Health Importance Scholarship, I am steadfast in my belief that mental health is not a luxury but an absolute necessity. It is the pillar that enables us to lead an enriched life filled with contentment, perseverance, and resilience, making us set the course for accomplishments, both personal and professional.

My mental and physical wellness are crucial to me for several reasons. Firstly, they directly impact my overall quality of life. When I am mentally and physically well, I feel happier, more energized, and better equipped to handle the daily challenges that come my way. This positive mindset allows me to approach tasks with a clear mind and boosts my overall productivity. Additionally, being in good mental and physical health enables me to engage fully in my relationships with others, pursue my passions, and enjoy life to the fullest. Maintaining good mental and physical health is also important to me as a student. As I strive to perform well academically, my mental wellness is key to staying focused, motivated, and resilient in the face of academic pressure. When I am mentally well, I am better able to retain information, problem-solve effectively, and manage my time efficiently, all of which are essential skills for academic success. Similarly, my physical health is important for maintaining the stamina and energy levels needed to keep up with the demands of a rigorous academic schedule. Despite the importance of mental and physical wellness, I face several challenges as a student trying to maintain good health. One major challenge is the constant pressure to excel academically and meet high expectations. This pressure can lead to feelings of stress, anxiety, and perfectionism, which can take a toll on my mental well-being. Additionally, the competitive nature of academia can sometimes foster a culture of overwork and burnout, making it difficult to prioritize self-care and relaxation. Another challenge I encounter is the balancing act of managing my time and responsibilities effectively. With a packed schedule filled with classes, assignments, extracurricular activities, and social commitments, finding time to prioritize my mental and physical health can be a challenge. It can be tempting to sacrifice sleep, exercise, or healthy eating habits in favor of squeezing in more study time, but this can ultimately be counterproductive in the long run. In conclusion, it is clear that my mental and physical wellness are essential to my success and well-being as a student. By recognizing the importance of self-care and actively addressing the challenges that come my way, I can work towards achieving a healthy balance and thriving academically, emotionally, and physically. navigating these challenges as a student requires self-awareness, resilience, and proactive efforts to prioritize self-care and well-being. It is important to seek support when needed, develop healthy coping strategies, and make conscious choices that support both mental and physical health.

As a queer person of color, there’s a lot in this world have been told that I can’t do. I come from a Caribbean background, and the Caribbean lifestyle is not very accepting of queer people. Also, the very religious aspect that is in many other Caribbean families, there was no room for me to be myself, to explore myself, and to grow in myself. I will never say that my family was abusive to me. My parents made sure that I had food on my table, that I had a room to sleep in, I had school supplies. So from the outside my family was picture perfect, the church mother, hard-working father, intelligent older brother, very nurturing sister, and very disciplined younger daughter. Everywhere in our church community, we were looked up to. My brother was the basketball coach and one of the high elders. My sister was in many ministries and connected with children beautifully, I started to become so active in ministries and was recognized as a disciplined child. Growing up, I thought my family was picture perfect. There were no drugs in my family, no crime in the family but looks can be deceiving. The perfect family dynamic that had been created had no room for a queer child. So I mentally, emotionally, and sexually hid. All the years of thinking that my family was picture perfect I still struggled with my sexuality I still struggled with mental health I still struggled with trauma but in the years after my picture-perfect family façade was shattered I suffered a lot more. I wanted to run away so bad but who would I run to? If I ran, would my family find me? Would they realize I was queer? Would they hate me? Would I be ok knowing my family hates me? Would I just get killed on the street? Could I live at a shelter? Could I ask the police for help? When I was in middle school, I knew that I was queer but I also knew that I wasn’t in a family to share that. So I believed it was none of their business so I had no reason to share. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t handle not having support. So I did what most kids in my situation would, I applied to a college away from home after graduation and moved away. I am now 20 years old. I have never told my family I am queer though they have now asked a few times because I can’t handle not having the support. Still, to this day, I am dealing with this clear box of a closet because I know once I leave I lose support. It’s a suffocating box, a suffocating lifestyle, and a suffocating experience. I want to be there for the Black Community who might be scared to leave home because they fear they could be killed by officers instead of helped. I want to be there for the Caribbean Community who are so stigmatized in the way they treat their queer children and how they handle trauma and pain within the family. I want to be there for the queer community which is filled with people closeted or not who are struggling to deal with the trauma of family or the trauma of society. Most Importantly, I want to start being there for myself. I have lied too many times to protect the perfect life facade that I was too scared to shatter. I want to build a better future, a better society, and a better me.

As a queer person of color, there’s a lot in this world have been told that I can’t do. I come from a Caribbean background, and the Caribbean lifestyle is not very accepting of queer people. Also, the very religious aspect that is in many other Caribbean families, there was no room for me to be myself, to explore myself, and to grow in myself. I will never say that my family was abusive to me. My parents made sure that I had food on my table, that I had a room to sleep in, I had school supplies. So from the outside my family was picture perfect, the church mother, hard-working father, intelligent older brother, very nurturing sister, and very disciplined younger daughter. Everywhere in our church community, we were looked up to. My brother was the basketball coach and one of the high elders. My sister was in many ministries and connected with children beautifully, I started to become so active in ministries and was recognized as a disciplined child. Growing up, I thought my family was picture perfect. There were no drugs in my family, no crime in the family but looks can be deceiving. The perfect family dynamic that had been created had no room for a queer child. So I mentally, emotionally, and sexually hid. All the years of thinking that my family was picture perfect I still struggled with my sexuality I still struggled with mental health I still struggled with trauma but in the years after my picture-perfect family façade was shattered I suffered a lot more. I wanted to run away so bad but who would I run to? If I ran, would my family find me? Would they realize I was queer? Would they hate me? Would I be ok knowing my family hates me? Would I just get killed on the street? Could I live at a shelter? Could I ask the police for help? When I was in middle school, I knew that I was queer but I also knew that I wasn’t in a family to share that. So I believed it was none of their business so I had no reason to share. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t handle not having support. So I did what most kids in my situation would, I applied to a college away from home after graduation and moved away. I am now 20 years old. I have never told my family I am queer though they have now asked a few times because I can’t handle not having the support. Still, to this day, I am dealing with this clear box of a closet because I know once I leave I lose support. It’s a suffocating box, a suffocating lifestyle, and a suffocating experience. I want to be there for the Black Community who might be scared to leave home because they fear they could be killed by officers instead of helped. I want to be there for the Caribbean Community who are so stigmatized in the way they treat their queer children and how they handle trauma and pain within the family. I want to be there for the queer community which is filled with people closeted or not who are struggling to deal with the trauma of family or the trauma of society. Most Importantly, I want to start being there for myself. I have lied too many times to protect the perfect life facade that I was too scared to shatter. I want to build a better future, a better society, and a better me.

As a queer person of color, there’s a lot in this world have been told that I can’t do. I come from a Caribbean background, and the Caribbean lifestyle is not very accepting of queer people. Also, the very religious aspect that is in many other Caribbean families, there was no room for me to be myself, to explore myself, and to grow in myself. I will never say that my family was abusive to me. My parents made sure that I had food on my table, that I had a room to sleep in, I had school supplies. So from the outside my family was picture perfect, the church mother, hard-working father, intelligent older brother, very nurturing sister, and very disciplined younger daughter. Everywhere in our church community, we were looked up to. My brother was the basketball coach and one of the high elders. My sister was in many ministries and connected with children beautifully, I started to become so active in ministries and was recognized as a disciplined child. Growing up, I thought my family was picture perfect. There were no drugs in my family, no crime in the family but looks can be deceiving. The perfect family dynamic that had been created had no room for a queer child. So I mentally, emotionally, and sexually hid. All the years of thinking that my family was picture perfect I still struggled with my sexuality I still struggled with mental health I still struggled with trauma but in the years after my picture-perfect family façade was shattered I suffered a lot more. I wanted to run away so bad but who would I run to? If I ran, would my family find me? Would they realize I was queer? Would they hate me? Would I be ok knowing my family hates me? Would I just get killed on the street? Could I live at a shelter? Could I ask the police for help? When I was in middle school, I knew that I was queer but I also knew that I wasn’t in a family to share that. So I believed it was none of their business so I had no reason to share. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t handle not having support. So I did what most kids in my situation would, I applied to a college away from home after graduation and moved away. I am now 20 years old. I have never told my family I am queer though they have now asked a few times because I can’t handle not having the support. Still, to this day, I am dealing with this clear box of a closet because I know once I leave I lose support. It’s a suffocating box, a suffocating lifestyle, and a suffocating experience. I want to be there for the Black Community who might be scared to leave home because they fear they could be killed by officers instead of helped. I want to be there for the Caribbean Community who are so stigmatized in the way they treat their queer children and how they handle trauma and pain within the family. I want to be there for the queer community which is filled with people closeted or not who are struggling to deal with the trauma of family or the trauma of society. Most Importantly, I want to start being there for myself. I have lied too many times to protect the perfect life facade that I was too scared to shatter. I want to build a better future, a better society, and a better me.

As an LGBTQIA + person of color, there’s a lot in this world that I can’t or have been told that I can’t do. I come from a Caribbean background, and most people know that the Caribbean lifestyle is not very accepting of queer people. Add in the very religious aspect that was specific to my family and many other Caribbean families, and there was no room for me to be myself, there was no room for me to explore myself, and there was no real room for me to grow in myself. I will never say that my family was particularly abusive to me. My parents always made sure that I had food on my table, and that I had room to sleep in, I had school supplies, I got the shoes that I wanted, I got the phone that I wanted (if it was affordable). So from the outside my family was picture perfect, the church mother, hard-working father, extremely intelligent older brother, very nurturing and motherly sister, and very skilled and disciplined younger daughter. Everywhere in our church community, we were looked up to. My brother was the church's basketball coach and one of the high elders. My sister was in many ministries and connected with children beautifully, as I grew into age I started to become so active in ministries and was widely recognized as a disciplined child. Growing up, I thought my family was picture perfect When I was in middle school, I knew that I was queer but I also knew that I wasn’t in a family to share that. So I believed it was none of their business so I had no reason to share. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t handle not having support. I wanted to run away so bad but who would I run to? If I ran, would my family find me? Would they realize I was queer? Would they hate me? Would I be ok knowing my family hates me? Would I just get killed on the street? Could I live at a shelter? Could I ask the police for help? So I did what most kids in my situation would, I applied to a college away from home after graduation and moved away. I am now 20 years old. I have never told my family I am queer though they have now asked a few times because I can’t handle not having the support. Still, to this day, I am dealing with this clear box of a closet because I know once I leave I lose support. It’s a suffocating box, a suffocating lifestyle, and a suffocating experience. I don’t want anyone else to go through that. I want to be there for the Black Community who might be scared to leave home because they fear they could be killed by officers instead of helped. I want to be there for the Caribbean Community who are so stigmatized in the way they treat their queer children and how they handle trauma and pain within the family. I want to be there for the LGBTQIA+ Community which is filled with people closeted or not who are struggling to deal with the trauma of family or the trauma of society. Most Importantly, I want to start being there for myself. I have lied too many times to protect the perfect life facade that I was too scared to shatter. I want to build a better future, a better society, and a better me.