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.