My decision to become a nurse is deeply rooted in my life experiences—moments of vulnerability, resilience, and inspiration that helped me realize that nursing is not just a profession, but a purpose. One of the earliest experiences that shaped my path was watching a loved one go through a serious illness. I remember being a teenager, sitting beside a hospital bed, feeling both helpless and deeply moved by the care the nurses provided. While doctors came in and out with critical updates, it was the nurses who stayed—the ones who explained things in ways we could understand, who held hands during scary moments, and who treated my family member with dignity even in their weakest state. I remember thinking, They don’t just take care of the body—they care for the whole person. That memory never left me. Later in life, I worked in various caregiving roles, including volunteering at local clinics and assisting in long-term care facilities. These hands-on experiences helped me realize how much I loved working directly with people. I saw how many individuals—especially the elderly, low-income patients, and those with limited support—struggled to navigate the healthcare system. I wanted to do more than just show up for a shift. I wanted to make a difference, even in small ways: by listening without judgment, by providing comfort during pain, by being a steady presence when things felt uncertain. Another turning point came during a difficult time in my own life, when I faced mental health challenges and felt overwhelmed by stress. I learned what it meant to be a patient—to be vulnerable, to depend on others, to heal not just physically but emotionally. It was the empathy and kindness of healthcare professionals that reminded me of my worth and helped me rebuild. That experience not only deepened my appreciation for the work nurses do, but also helped me understand how essential empathy and mental health support are in care. It taught me that healing is never just clinical—it’s personal. All of these experiences have shaped my commitment to becoming a nurse who is not only skilled, but grounded in compassion. I want to be the person who stays with a patient through the long nights, who listens when no one else does, who brings calm to chaos and dignity to difficulty. Nursing combines everything I value: human connection, lifelong learning, and meaningful service. More than anything, I want to be the kind of nurse who sees the person, not just the diagnosis. Because I’ve been on the other side of the hospital curtain. And now, I want to step into the role that once brought me—and the people I love—hope.

Nursing is more than a career path for me—it is a calling to serve, to heal, and to advocate for those who need care the most. I plan to make a lasting impact on the nursing profession by bringing compassion, cultural competence, and leadership into every patient interaction and professional environment I am part of. One of the most important ways I aim to contribute to nursing is by being an advocate for equitable care. I’ve seen how systemic barriers—language, income, access, and bias—can prevent patients from receiving the quality care they deserve. As a future nurse, I want to be part of changing that. I plan to provide care that is not only clinically excellent but also respectful, inclusive, and informed by the unique needs of each individual. I believe nurses are often the most direct link between patients and the healthcare system, and that connection gives us the power—and responsibility—to push for justice and change from the inside out. I also want to help elevate the mental and emotional well-being of both patients and nurses. Too often, in the rush of clinical demands, emotional care gets pushed to the side. But I’ve learned that healing is not just physical—it’s mental, emotional, and spiritual. I hope to bring a more holistic approach to nursing by prioritizing empathy and presence, even in fast-paced environments. I want my patients to feel seen and valued, not just treated. And I want to be a supportive colleague who helps create healthier, more human-centered workplaces in nursing. In the long term, I see myself becoming a mentor and educator. I want to help train future generations of nurses to not only master the science of care, but also to lead with heart, resilience, and integrity. Nursing is evolving rapidly, and we need more leaders who understand both the pressures of the front lines and the importance of mentorship, innovation, and community-based solutions. Lastly, I plan to be a lifelong learner and contributor to nursing knowledge. Whether through continuing education, participating in research, or simply staying informed on best practices, I will commit myself to professional growth. Nurses play a vital role in shaping the future of healthcare, and I want to be part of that change—not by watching from the sidelines, but by stepping forward, speaking up, and giving everything I have to the people I serve. The nursing profession has the power to change lives. My goal is to bring purpose, compassion, and equity into every space I enter as a nurse—and to leave the field stronger than I found it.

Food has always been more than nourishment to me—it’s a language of love, identity, and connection. Growing up, the kitchen was the heart of our home. Whether it was my grandmother’s Sunday stews simmering for hours or the smell of fresh bread that greeted me after school, I learned early on that food tells stories. It brings people together, bridges cultures, and can even heal. That realization sparked my desire to pursue a career in culinary arts—not just to cook, but to create experiences, preserve traditions, and give back through food. I’m drawn to the culinary field because it is one of the few professions where art meets science, tradition meets innovation, and service meets soul. I love the hands-on nature of cooking and the sense of focus and creativity it requires. But more importantly, I see food as a tool for social good. In a world where food insecurity and cultural erasure are still serious issues, I believe chefs have a unique responsibility—not only to delight palates but also to inspire, educate, and uplift. My dream is to eventually open a community-based culinary center that offers affordable meals, vocational training, and educational programs. I want to teach young people—especially those from underserved backgrounds—how to cook, budget for healthy meals, and even start their own food ventures. I see it as a way to empower others with practical life skills while promoting food justice and local sustainability. In the short term, I plan to gain professional training through a culinary arts program and work in diverse kitchens to broaden my knowledge. I’m especially interested in learning about farm-to-table practices, cultural cuisines, and food therapy. I also want to volunteer with organizations that provide meals to homeless shelters and low-income families. I believe giving back starts now, not later, and even as a student, I want to use my skills to serve. Ultimately, I view cooking as a form of care. It’s a way of saying, I see you, I value you. That’s what I hope to bring to the table—whether I’m plating a dish in a restaurant, running a food education program, or feeding someone who simply needs a hot meal and a sense of dignity. By pursuing a career in culinary arts, I’m not just chasing a personal dream—I’m preparing to be of service. And in doing so, I hope to create not only meals, but moments that nourish both the body and the soul.

There was a point in my life when everything felt like it was moving too fast—school, responsibilities, family expectations, social pressure, and my own internal doubts. I was so focused on doing everything perfectly and being everything for everyone else that I completely neglected my own mental and emotional health. It wasn’t until I started experiencing burnout—fatigue, anxiety, and feeling constantly overwhelmed—that I realized something had to change. I couldn’t keep going the way I was and expect to succeed, let alone be happy. One of the most important things I ever did for myself was learning how to slow down and listen—to my mind, my body, and my needs. I started journaling as a way to process my emotions instead of bottling them up. I began setting boundaries with people who drained me or took more than they gave. I made time to walk outside, turn off my phone, and reconnect with the present moment, even if it was just for a few minutes. And perhaps most importantly, I started asking for help when I needed it, whether it was talking to a school counselor, confiding in a trusted adult, or simply being honest with a friend. Prioritizing my mental health didn’t mean I became less productive—it meant I became more intentional. I stopped measuring my worth by how much I could do in a day and started focusing on how I felt while doing it. That shift changed everything. It taught me that rest is not weakness, boundaries are not selfish, and taking care of yourself is not optional—it’s essential. This experience has shaped how I approach school, work, and life today. In school, I’ve learned to manage my time in a way that honors both my goals and my well-being. I still push myself, but I don’t push myself past the breaking point. I plan breaks into my study schedule, give myself permission to not be perfect, and try to celebrate progress instead of just results. In work, I aim to show up fully present, with energy and focus—because I know what it feels like to be stretched too thin, and I don’t want to go back to that. Looking ahead, this lesson is something I will carry into every part of my future. In my career, I want to be the kind of person who not only performs well but encourages a culture of balance, empathy, and emotional intelligence. In life, I want to continue advocating for mental health—my own and others’. I’ve seen what happens when you neglect it, and I’ve seen what happens when you prioritize it. That contrast has given me a deep respect for emotional resilience, and a clearer understanding of how self-care is actually an investment in every part of your future. Making my health a priority taught me to be more self-aware, more compassionate, and more confident in saying “no” when it means saying “yes” to my well-being. It’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it’s a practice I will continue to honor as I grow into the person I’m meant to be.

My name is Tyler Mozelle, and I’m a passionate, curious, and determined individual with a deep commitment to making a meaningful difference in the world through my future career in technology. Ever since I was young, I’ve been drawn to the idea of solving problems—of figuring out how things work and how they could work better. That natural curiosity grew into something more serious when I began learning about computer science, especially with the help of my uncle, who was also a computer science major and graduated from Towson University. His encouragement and mentorship opened my eyes to a whole world of possibilities within tech, and ever since then, I’ve known this was the path I wanted to follow. What makes me passionate about technology is not just its complexity or how fast it evolves, but its power to transform lives. Technology is one of the most powerful tools we have to drive change—from building apps that make mental health support more accessible to designing systems that improve education, public safety, or social equity. I want to be part of that change. I want to use my skills to create tools, software, and platforms that serve real people, especially those in underserved or overlooked communities. One of my goals is to become a software engineer or a web developer, building digital systems that are not just efficient, but inclusive. I want to focus on creating technology that solves everyday problems, whether it’s simplifying how people access resources, helping small businesses grow, or improving how communities communicate. Eventually, I hope to start or contribute to a nonprofit or social impact tech initiative that focuses on digital equity—because I believe everyone deserves access to the tools that shape the modern world. Beyond my career goals, I also see myself as someone who wants to lift others up along the way. I know what it’s like to be unsure of yourself, to feel like opportunities are out of reach. That’s why I want to mentor students who are just discovering their interests, especially in STEM fields. Representation and support matter. If I can help someone else believe in their potential, the same way my uncle helped me, then I’ll know I’m on the right track. Making a positive impact on the world doesn’t have to mean doing something huge all at once. It means showing up, caring deeply, and using your unique talents to help others however you can. Through my career in tech, I plan to do just that—by designing with empathy, working with integrity, and always remembering that behind every screen is a person whose life I can help improve. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity. I’m excited about the future, and I’m ready to work hard to build it—not just for myself, but for the communities I care about.

Billie Eilish’s music has always felt like a mirror—reflecting the parts of myself I sometimes hide, the emotions I don’t always know how to express, and the thoughts that linger long after the lights go out. Her voice, lyrics, and production style create an atmosphere that feels raw and intimate, and that’s what draws me in. Out of her incredible discography, three songs have impacted me the most: “idontwannabeyouanymore,” “Happier Than Ever,” and “Everything I Wanted.” “idontwannabeyouanymore” is the first Billie Eilish song that truly hit me. The vulnerability in the lyrics—“If teardrops could be bottled, there’d be swimming pools filled by models”—speaks to a deep feeling of insecurity and self-doubt that I think a lot of people experience but rarely admit. When I was struggling with confidence and my sense of identity, this song felt like someone whispering my own thoughts back to me. It helped me realize I wasn’t alone in feeling the pressure to be something I’m not, and that there’s strength in acknowledging the struggle instead of burying it. “Happier Than Ever” is Billie’s emotional evolution in real time. It starts soft and restrained, like someone holding everything in, and then explodes into raw frustration and power. That shift perfectly captures the moment when you finally stop pretending that everything’s okay. I’ve listened to this song during moments when I was trying to let go of toxic relationships—times when I realized I had been silencing myself to make others comfortable. It’s not just a breakup song; it’s a declaration of self-respect. Every time I scream-sing the bridge, I feel like I’m taking my power back. “Everything I Wanted” is a quieter song, but it holds a lot of emotional weight for me. It touches on themes of depression, fame, self-worth, and loyalty—and that complex balance between achieving your dreams and still feeling empty inside. The line “I had a dream I got everything I wanted… but when I wake up I see, you with me” reminds me that success means nothing without people who love and support you. It made me reflect on the relationships that keep me grounded and the importance of mental health, no matter how “successful” things look on the outside. Billie Eilish’s music resonates with me because she’s not afraid to be honest—even when it’s uncomfortable. She puts into words what so many people feel but can’t express. Her songs aren’t just background music for me—they’re therapy, a journal, and a reminder that it’s okay to feel deeply. That’s what makes her one of my favorite artists, and why these three songs will always hold a special place in my life.

My name is Tyler Mozelle, and I’m a determined, creative, and passionate student with a deep interest in computer science and how technology can be used to solve real-world problems. I come from a family that has always valued hard work, resilience, and staying true to who you are—even when the path gets difficult. Those values have helped shape the person I am today, and they continue to drive me as I pursue my college education and long-term goals. One of the biggest inspirations in my life is my uncle, who was a computer science major and graduated from Towson University. From a young age, he encouraged me to explore what I was curious about and helped me discover my passion for technology. He introduced me to coding and walked me through my first small project, and from that moment on, I was hooked. With his guidance and support, I realized that computer science isn’t just about building apps or writing lines of code—it’s about building solutions, connecting people, and creating new ways to improve the world around us. Right now, I plan to pursue a degree in computer science, with the goal of becoming a software engineer or contributing to web development projects that have a real, meaningful impact. Whether it’s making websites more accessible for people with disabilities, creating platforms that support mental health, or developing systems that streamline community resources, I want to use my skills to uplift others. This scholarship would mean the world to me—not just financially, but emotionally as well. Like many students, I face the stress of tuition, books, and other expenses. Receiving this scholarship would lift some of that burden and allow me to focus more fully on my studies and personal growth. It would also serve as a recognition of my potential and a reminder that people believe in my ability to make a difference. That motivation would push me to keep going even when things get tough. Beyond academics, I’m also someone who believes in giving back. I volunteer when I can and hope to one day mentor students who are just discovering their passion for tech—especially students from underrepresented backgrounds who might not always see people like themselves in the industry. I know what it’s like to wonder if your dreams are too big or if your background will hold you back. That’s why I want to help open doors for others as I move forward in my own journey. In short, this scholarship would not just support my education—it would help me continue building a future where I can make meaningful contributions, support my community, and stay true to the values that have shaped me. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity.

I’m a fan of Sabrina Carpenter not just because she’s incredibly talented, but because of how authentic, versatile, and unapologetically herself she has been throughout her career. Watching her grow from a young Disney Channel actress into a confident, fearless pop artist has been inspiring—not just as a fan of her music, but as someone navigating identity, self-worth, and the complexity of growing up. Sabrina has this rare ability to write songs that feel both deeply personal and universally relatable. Her lyrics speak to things I’ve gone through—messy friendships, heartbreak, the awkwardness of trying to say the right thing, or even the times when I’ve wanted to prove people wrong about me. Songs like “Because I Liked a Boy,” “Feather,” and “Espresso” show how she’s unafraid to own her story, even when the world tries to twist it. That kind of strength—standing firm in who you are while staying soft and creative—is something I really admire. What’s especially powerful about Sabrina is how she’s used moments of public pressure or judgment as fuel to grow and glow. Instead of letting criticism define her, she turned it into art. That taught me that people will always have opinions, but the best response is to keep evolving, keep creating, and never lose your sense of humor or style. Sabrina’s music has helped me feel less alone in my own confusion or frustration. Her wit, honesty, and resilience remind me that it’s okay to be complicated, emotional, and still find joy in it all. Beyond the music, Sabrina’s stage presence, fashion, and interviews show how much thought and creativity she puts into everything she does. She’s not just performing—she’s storytelling, whether through clever lyrics or captivating visuals. She shows that being a pop star doesn’t mean fitting a mold; it means breaking it with style and sincerity. That’s empowered me to express myself more confidently, to stop shrinking myself to be easier for others to accept. Sabrina Carpenter’s career has impacted me by showing that growth doesn’t always have to be loud or perfect—it can be graceful, sharp, and funny all at once. She’s turned vulnerability into power and made it cool to care deeply, to be clever, and to sing your truth. Supporting her has meant watching someone rise not because she’s trying to please everyone, but because she’s being exactly who she is. That’s the kind of role model I look up to—and the kind of person I want to become.

Chappell Roan’s music has impacted me in a way that few artists ever have. She doesn’t just make pop songs—she creates entire worlds where individuality, queerness, heartbreak, and confidence are celebrated unapologetically. Her music has given me the space to be more honest with myself, to explore my emotions more freely, and to embrace parts of my identity that I once felt unsure about. One of the things I love most about Chappell Roan is how fearless she is in her artistry. Whether she’s performing in bold, theatrical outfits or singing about queer love and identity in a world that often tries to silence those voices, she brings everything she has into her work. Songs like “Pink Pony Club” and “Casual” are more than catchy—they’re vulnerable, raw, and deeply relatable. They speak to the tension between fantasy and reality, between wanting to be loved and wanting to be seen. That kind of honesty isn’t just refreshing—it’s brave. Listening to her music helped me realize that being emotional, dramatic, and even a little messy isn’t something to hide—it’s human. Her lyrics are often playful and glamorous, but underneath that is a real depth. She writes about longing, confusion, rejection, self-discovery—all of which mirror what so many people, especially queer youth, go through. Her music gave me comfort during times when I felt out of place, and confidence when I needed to feel powerful. I support Chappell Roan’s career because she’s creating space in pop culture for people who don’t always get to see themselves represented. She’s pushing the boundaries of what it means to be a pop star, not by following trends but by staying true to her voice—even when it’s weird, dramatic, or emotionally intense. That’s what makes her special. She’s not afraid to be “too much” in a world that constantly asks people to tone themselves down. She also makes it clear that she cares about her fans, often shouting out the LGBTQ+ community and championing self-expression and joy. In a time when authenticity can feel rare, Chappell Roan is a reminder that being real—fully, emotionally, and even theatrically real—is something to be proud of. Supporting her isn’t just about liking her songs—it’s about standing behind someone who’s changing what pop music can be. Her success means more people like me get to feel seen, celebrated, and understood.

I’m a fan of Wicked not just because it’s a beautiful musical, but because it tells a story that flips the script on what we think we know about good, evil, and what it means to be misunderstood. The first time I heard the music from Wicked, I was drawn in by the emotion and power behind the songs. But when I learned the full story and its deeper themes, I realized this musical wasn’t just entertainment—it was something that spoke directly to the way I often felt growing up. At its heart, Wicked is about Elphaba, the so-called “Wicked Witch of the West,” who is judged and feared because of how she looks and how differently she sees the world. Her journey—trying to stand up for what’s right while constantly being told she’s wrong—is something many people, especially teenagers, can relate to. Whether it’s being labeled, underestimated, or isolated, Elphaba’s story mirrors the challenges of staying true to yourself in a world that wants to define you. The music is a huge part of why I’m such a fan. Songs like “Defying Gravity” and “For Good” are not only emotionally powerful, they also carry messages of strength, independence, and the importance of relationships that change us. “Defying Gravity” especially is a reminder that sometimes you have to break away from expectations and be willing to rise on your own, even if others don’t understand. That line—“It’s time to try defying gravity”—feels like a personal challenge to dream bigger, stand taller, and not apologize for who I am. I also love how Wicked explores the complexity of friendship through Elphaba and Glinda. Their relationship starts in competition and misunderstanding but becomes something deep and life-changing. It shows that people who seem completely different on the surface can end up being each other’s greatest support system. It’s messy, funny, emotional, and real—which makes it even more meaningful. Being a fan of Wicked has taught me to embrace my individuality, question what’s considered “normal,” and stay committed to doing the right thing—even when it’s hard. It’s more than just a musical for me—it’s a reminder that the world doesn’t always tell the whole story, and that being different isn’t something to hide; it’s something to celebrate.

A lyric from Olivia Rodrigo’s GUTS that resonates strongly with my own teenage experience is: “I wanna crash my car into a wall / I wanna cry, but I don’t know how.” This line from “ballad of a homeschooled girl” perfectly captures the overwhelming confusion and emotional pressure that so many teens feel but don’t always know how to express. When I first heard that lyric, it stopped me in my tracks—not because I’d ever act on that feeling, but because I understood it. I’ve had moments where the world felt so loud and chaotic that I didn’t know how to handle it. There were days when everything seemed to pile on at once—academic pressure, family expectations, social awkwardness, and the constant pressure to “have it all together.” And in the middle of all that, I’d feel this emotional build-up that I couldn’t release. I knew I was feeling something, but I didn’t always have the words or the tools to deal with it. That’s what makes Olivia Rodrigo’s music so powerful—she puts language to what a lot of us are too afraid or too unsure to say. This lyric in particular taps into the silent scream of adolescence: the feeling of being overwhelmed and unsure of how to process it. It’s not just about sadness or anger—it’s about that messy in-between space where you’re not even sure what you’re feeling or why. For me, that confusion often came during moments of social insecurity. Like Olivia sings in the rest of the song, sometimes I’d overthink every interaction: Did I say something weird? Did I laugh too loud? Am I too much or not enough? Those questions swirled in my mind constantly. Being a teenager can feel like living under a microscope—where every word, outfit, or facial expression feels like it could make or break your place in the world. That kind of pressure builds up silently, and this lyric captures that boiling point when you want to cry or explode, but you feel stuck. What I love about Olivia’s music—and this lyric in particular—is that it reminds me I’m not alone in those feelings. It gives me permission to acknowledge that adolescence is hard, and that it’s okay to be overwhelmed. Sometimes just admitting that you’re struggling is the most important step forward. As I grow, I’m learning how to sit with those feelings, how to talk about them, and how to give myself grace. That lyric from “ballad of a homeschooled girl” reminds me that we’re all a little messy, especially during our teenage years. And that’s okay. It’s part of becoming who we are.

I’ve been a fan of LeBron James for as long as I can remember, and not just because of what he does on the basketball court—but because of who he is off of it. LeBron represents greatness, not only in terms of athletic ability, but in terms of leadership, consistency, intelligence, and impact. Watching him throughout the years has inspired me not just to love the game of basketball, but to think bigger about what it means to use your platform and influence for good. From the moment he was drafted straight out of high school in 2003, LeBron had the weight of enormous expectations placed on his shoulders—and he delivered. Over two decades, he’s proven himself time and time again: four NBA championships, four league MVPs, countless All-Star appearances, and the all-time leading scorer in NBA history. But what makes LeBron so special is that he’s more than just a scorer—he’s a complete player. He can defend, pass, rebound, lead, and dominate in almost every aspect of the game. His basketball IQ is unmatched, and he makes the players around him better. But my admiration for LeBron goes beyond stats. It’s about how he carries himself. He’s never let fame or criticism define him. He’s remained committed to his family, his community, and his values. The fact that he opened the “I PROMISE” school for at-risk youth in his hometown of Akron, Ohio, says everything about who he is. He could have walked away from his roots, but instead, he’s invested in them. He’s proven that being great isn’t just about winning games—it’s about lifting others while you rise. Now, when it comes to the question of whether LeBron James is the greatest basketball player of all time, I’ll admit—it’s a tough debate. The legacy of Michael Jordan is legendary. His six championships, killer instinct, and cultural impact on the game are undeniable. He set the standard for modern basketball greatness. But here’s why I believe LeBron James is the GOAT: longevity, versatility, and consistency. No one has played at such an elite level for as long as LeBron has. He’s competed at the highest level in three different decades, in completely different eras of basketball. He’s won championships with three different franchises. He’s adjusted his game as needed—from explosive dunker to floor general to scoring leader. The way he’s maintained his physical and mental performance over time is unlike anything we’ve seen before. Ultimately, LeBron’s greatness isn’t just measured in rings or records. It’s in the way he’s constantly evolved, persevered, and pushed boundaries—both in sports and in life. That’s why I’m a fan of LeBron James, and that’s why I believe he’s not just one of the greatest athletes of our time—but the greatest basketball player to ever play the game

“Secrets in the Sauce” is a messy, hilarious, and emotionally revealing Love Island challenge where Islanders must correctly match anonymous facts, confessions, or secrets to each other—by launching colored sauces at their chosen match. It combines physical fun with real emotional stakes, giving couples the chance to test how well they really know each other. Challenge Setup: In the garden, a large inflatable setup is filled with six vats of brightly colored sauces (think neon pink ketchup, green relish, mustard yellow slime, etc.). Each vat corresponds to one mystery statement. The statements are displayed on large screens next to each sauce, reading things like: • “This Islander once ghosted someone… then ran into them the next day.” • “This Islander’s DMs include a blue checkmark celebrity.” • “This Islander has faked an accent to impress a date.” • “This Islander cried after their first kiss.” How It Works: One at a time, each Islander will read a mystery statement aloud and choose who they believe it belongs to. Once they make their pick, they scoop a bucket of the corresponding sauce and launch it at that Islander. The chosen person then steps forward and either confirms or denies the confession. If the guess is correct, both Islanders win a point—and the sauce thrower gets to ask one flirty (or risky) follow-up question to dig deeper. If they’re wrong, the thrower has to spin the Wheel of Dares and complete a silly task (kiss someone of the opposite couple, do a dramatic reading of your last DM, etc.). Twists: Some mystery statements are planted lies—they don’t belong to anyone in the villa. If no one claims a confession by the end, the Islanders must vote on who they believe is lying. Also, halfway through the challenge, Islanders receive a special twist: Relationship Round. These are confessions submitted by couples about each other. Example: • “My partner hogs the mirror more than I do.” • “They haven’t told me yet, but I know they’re falling for me.” This round really tests how well couples are paying attention and leads to either giggles or serious side-eye. Purpose & Payoff: The challenge is messy, cheeky, and pure fun—but it’s also designed to stir the pot. It reveals hidden facts, forces Islanders to make bold assumptions, and puts couples under the spotlight. Newer couples may discover red flags, while stronger ones will prove just how deep their connection runs. And of course, it ends with everyone absolutely covered in sauce—because no Love Island challenge is complete without a splash of chaos and color.

Being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member means more than just living in a neighborhood or attending school—it means showing up with intention, making meaningful contributions, and understanding the impact of your actions on others. These three qualities—purpose, responsibility, and productivity—are at the heart of what it takes to build strong, compassionate, and resilient communities. As I look toward my future, I know that embodying these values will be essential not only to my personal success, but also to the ways I serve and uplift those around me. To live with purpose is to act with intention, clarity, and a sense of direction. For me, being purposeful means setting goals that go beyond personal gain and choosing paths that benefit others. As someone pursuing a degree in computer science, I’ve always been fascinated by how technology can solve real-world problems. But my deeper purpose lies in using those skills to build tools and platforms that make life easier, fairer, and more connected—especially for people in underserved communities. Whether it’s through education, healthcare, or accessibility, I want every project I work on to serve a need and have a lasting, positive impact. Being a responsible community member means holding yourself accountable for your actions and contributing in ways that promote safety, fairness, and integrity. Responsibility is about doing what’s right, even when no one is watching. Throughout my life, I’ve taken on roles that required me to step up and support others—whether it was caring for younger family members, helping classmates understand difficult assignments, or assisting elders in my community with technology. I’ve learned that being responsible doesn’t always mean having all the answers; it means showing up consistently, being reliable, and doing your best to leave things better than you found them. Finally, to be productive in a community is to be an active participant—to use your time, talents, and energy to contribute rather than just consume. It’s easy to sit back and let others do the work, but true community thrives when everyone puts in effort. I plan to remain productive not just through my career, but through continued service. After college, I hope to create mentorship programs for young students interested in technology, particularly those from immigrant or low-income backgrounds like my own. I also plan to volunteer my skills for nonprofit organizations that could benefit from better digital tools but lack the resources to build them. In my future, I will strive to embody these qualities every day. I’ll continue to lead with purpose by aligning my work with what matters most—impact and inclusion. I’ll be responsible by remaining accountable to the people and communities I serve. And I’ll stay productive by using my skills and time to help others grow and succeed. To me, being a purposeful, responsible, and productive community member isn’t a title—it’s a lifelong commitment to making the world around me better, one choice at a time.

One of the first times I realized how powerful—and fun—my tinkering and tech skills could be was during my high school’s spirit week. Each day had a theme, and one of the final events was a competition where each grade had to design something “original and techy” to show off school pride. Most people brought posters or simple slideshows, but I wanted to do something different. I decided to surprise my class by building a small interactive website that looked like a retro arcade game—but with school colors, inside jokes, and even a “virtual principal” who popped up and gave funny pep talks. I had about a week to build it, and I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I worked late each night, teaching myself bits of JavaScript and CSS animations on top of what I already knew. I used pixel art to design characters that looked like students and teachers, and I created a simple “game” where you collected school-themed tokens—like graduation caps, homework passes, and mascot costumes. Once you hit a certain score, a video would play with clips I edited together from school events, all synced to our class song. I even figured out how to host it on a free server so others could access it from their phones. When the day of the presentation came, I hooked my laptop up to the projector and revealed the game. At first, everyone was confused—then suddenly the room lit up with excitement. People were laughing, pointing out the custom characters, and trying to get the high score. Even teachers joined in. What really made the moment special was seeing people smile, not just because it was fun, but because it was made just for them. It wasn’t some generic app—it was personal. It brought people together. After that, word spread around school, and people started asking me how I made it. I had classmates who never showed much interest in coding before suddenly curious about how websites work. I ended up helping a few of them build their own pages, and I realized that what I built wasn’t just a fun game—it was a spark. I had used my skills to connect people, entertain them, and inspire curiosity. That experience showed me how creative technology can be—and how even a simple project can brighten someone’s day. It wasn’t just about code or design. It was about using what I know to bring people joy. Moments like that are what drive me. I don’t just want to be a software engineer who solves technical problems—I want to build things that make people feel something. Whether it’s delight, connection, or confidence, I want my work to leave a positive mark. That project taught me that when you combine creativity with code, the possibilities are endless—and sometimes, even a little bit magical.

Being the first in my family to obtain a college degree means everything to me. It’s not just a personal milestone—it’s a symbol of sacrifice, strength, and the legacy of the people who helped raise me. My great-grandmother, who helped raise me like a second mother, never had the chance to attend college, yet she poured all of her love, wisdom, and support into her family. My mother, who looked up to her so much, passed down that same love and encouragement to me. Earning a degree isn’t just about academic achievement—it’s about honoring the dreams of those who came before me and making a path for those who come after me. Coming from a family where higher education wasn’t always accessible, I feel a deep responsibility to take this opportunity seriously. I want to show my younger siblings, cousins, and community that with hard work, support, and belief in yourself, you can break generational barriers. I carry that motivation with me every single day. In college, I plan to pursue a degree in Computer Science. I was inspired by my uncle, a Towson University graduate and computer science major, who introduced me to the world of programming and web development. He helped me realize that computer science isn’t just about technology—it’s about building things that help people and solve real-world problems. Whether it’s designing websites, developing software, or improving digital accessibility, I want to use my skills to make everyday life better for others. Technology is constantly evolving, and it’s full of potential to create real change. I want to be part of that change. I’m especially passionate about making tech more inclusive and accessible—especially for people from underserved communities who may not always have access to the tools or knowledge they need. I believe everyone deserves the chance to understand and use technology, and I want to help build platforms that reflect that belief. In the long term, I hope to become a software engineer or web developer and eventually lead projects that make meaningful impact—whether in education, health, community development, or accessibility. Beyond just career success, I want to mentor young students, especially those who don’t see people like themselves represented in tech. I want to encourage them the way my uncle encouraged me, and let them know that their dreams are valid and achievable. Being the first in my family to go to college isn’t just a goal—it’s a responsibility, a blessing, and a promise. A promise to make something of the opportunities I’ve been given, and to reach back and lift others along the way. College is just the beginning of the journey, and I’m ready to take that step not only for myself, but for everyone who believes in me

Growing up, I was always someone who asked “how” and “why.” Whether it was understanding how apps worked or figuring out how websites were built, I found myself drawn to the way technology solves problems and connects people. But what truly sparked my passion for computer science was the influence of my uncle—a Towson University graduate who majored in the same field. More than just a family member, he was a mentor and a guiding light. He encouraged me to chase what I love and showed me how powerful it is to use knowledge to create meaningful change. My great-grandmother also played a major role in shaping who I am. She helped raise me and was like a second mother. Her smile could brighten any room, and her strength influenced not only my mother, but my entire family. She passed away from breast cancer, and that loss pushed me to be more resilient, more aware, and more determined to make something of myself. Her love and sacrifice are a major reason I stay motivated. I want to make her proud by becoming someone who gives back and makes a real difference. One of the core values that drives me is service—using what I know to help others grow. Whether it’s tutoring classmates who struggle with tech assignments or helping friends understand how to build a basic website, I’ve learned that sharing knowledge can be just as rewarding as gaining it. I believe in lifting others up as I climb, and I carry that same mindset into my academic and personal life. The degree I’m pursuing in computer science will not only give me technical skills—it will give me the tools to bring ideas to life. I dream of becoming a software engineer or working in web development to build accessible, intuitive platforms that help people in real, practical ways. I want to create resources for communities that often get left behind in tech: low-income families, students with limited access, and older generations trying to navigate the digital world. My long-term goal is to use my education to lead projects and mentor the next generation of technologists, especially those from underrepresented backgrounds. I understand how much representation matters. Seeing someone who looks like you and believes in you can change everything. Just like my uncle did for me, I want to inspire others to believe in themselves, take risks, and embrace their passions. This program will give me the foundation to do just that. With each class, each project, and each challenge, I’m gaining the knowledge and confidence I need to make a lasting impact. But I don’t want to stop at personal success—I want to help others find their voice in tech, use their creativity to solve problems, and know that they belong in this space too. I’m not just working for a degree. I’m working for a future where my skills uplift others, where my voice creates change, and where the people who raised me can see just how far their love and belief have taken me.

Losing my great-grandmother to breast cancer was one of the most profound and painful experiences of my life. She wasn’t just a relative—she was like a second mother to me. From the time I was a baby, she helped raise me, care for me, and love me in a way that shaped who I am today. Her presence in our home was a blessing. Her smile was truly heavenly—radiant, comforting, and filled with love. It had a way of making everyone feel safe and at peace, even during hard times. She was also a hero to my mother, who looked up to her with deep admiration and love. Her strength, faith, and kindness were the foundation of our family, and when we lost her to breast cancer, it left a space that will never truly be filled. Watching someone you love fight such a cruel disease changes you forever. It made me realize how vulnerable life is, and how quickly things can shift. It also made me determined to honor her memory by doing everything I can to protect myself, my family, and my future. Since her passing, I’ve become much more aware of the importance of early detection, self-exams, and routine screenings. These simple steps, though often overlooked, can save lives. I’ve encouraged the women in my family to get regular mammograms and to speak openly about any concerns—something that wasn’t always common in our household before. Another important tool that has emerged in the fight against breast cancer is genetic testing. While it wasn’t something that was available or widely discussed when my great-grandmother was diagnosed, today it has the potential to be life-saving. Genetic testing can help identify inherited mutations, such as BRCA1 and BRCA2, which increase the risk of developing breast cancer. This kind of knowledge gives people a chance to take preventive steps—whether that’s more frequent screenings, lifestyle changes, or medical interventions. For me, knowing my family history has made me more aware of my own risks, and I plan to get genetic testing in the future to better understand and manage that risk. I believe I deserve this scholarship because I carry a deep personal connection to the cause, and I am committed to using my education and voice to raise awareness about breast cancer prevention. This scholarship would not only support me in my academic journey, but also allow me to honor the memory of the woman who helped raise me. Her loss continues to fuel my drive to succeed—not just for myself, but for the women in my family and for others who have faced the same pain. Breast cancer stole someone incredibly special from my life, but it also gave me a sense of purpose. I want to use that purpose to live fully, love deeply, and advocate for awareness, prevention, and support. With this scholarship, I can take one more step toward building a future that honors the past and protects those we still have

My name is Tyler Mozelle , and I’m currently pursuing a degree in Computer Science—a path that was inspired by my passion for technology and the guidance of my uncle, who also graduated with a computer science degree from Towson University. Growing up, I was always curious about how things worked, especially when it came to websites, apps, and digital tools. With my uncle’s mentorship, I began to understand the real-world impact that technology can have when used with purpose. That’s what motivates me—not just learning to code, but using those skills to make a positive difference. There are three main ways I plan to make an impact through my degree and future career. First, I want to make technology more accessible and user-friendly for underserved communities. There are still far too many people who lack access to the digital tools and resources they need, whether in education, healthcare, or everyday life. I want to be part of creating software and platforms that are inclusive, intuitive, and free from barriers—technology that genuinely helps people, regardless of their background or income level. Second, I’m passionate about using my skills to build tools that support education. Whether that’s developing interactive learning platforms, tutoring systems, or creating websites that help students and teachers connect more effectively, I want to be at the intersection of education and tech. I’ve seen firsthand how learning can transform lives, and I believe that well-designed technology can help break cycles of inequality by giving people access to quality educational experiences wherever they are. Third, I plan to mentor and inspire the next generation of technologists—especially students from underrepresented backgrounds. As someone who benefited greatly from my uncle’s support, I know the value of having someone in your corner who believes in you. I want to pay that forward by creating safe spaces for young people to explore coding, robotics, and problem-solving—spaces where they can see themselves not only using technology, but building it. Even now, I’m working to impact social issues in small but meaningful ways. I’ve volunteered to help classmates who struggle with tech assignments, especially those who didn’t have early exposure to technology. I also help my local community with basic digital literacy—things like setting up devices, understanding online safety, and navigating websites for job applications or school resources. These experiences have shown me that even small acts can make a big difference, and they’ve deepened my commitment to building a career that prioritizes service and equity. My ultimate goal isn’t just to be a successful software engineer or web developer—it’s to use my knowledge to lift others up, solve real problems, and leave the world a little better than I found it. Through technology, mentorship, and education, I plan to build not just programs, but possibilities—for everyone.

Growing up, I was always someone who asked a lot of questions. I’ve always loved to learn—not just for myself, but to share what I learned with others. Whether it was helping classmates understand a math problem or showing my younger siblings how to use a new app, I naturally gravitated toward teaching. Over time, I realized that education isn’t just something that happens in classrooms—it’s a lifelong process that shapes people’s opportunities, mindsets, and even their self-worth. That’s when I knew I wanted to become an educator—not just to teach, but to empower. As someone who has benefited greatly from the guidance of mentors and educators in my own life, I understand just how much of a difference a teacher can make. One of the people who inspired me most was my uncle. Although he pursued a career in computer science, he was always passionate about helping others grow. He taught me that the best kind of teaching doesn’t just give answers—it sparks curiosity and builds confidence. I want to bring that same energy into my classroom: to create an environment where students feel seen, valued, and capable of achieving more than they thought possible. As an educator, my goal is to make a positive and lasting impact by creating inclusive, engaging, and student-centered learning experiences. I want every student who walks into my classroom to feel safe to express themselves, ask questions, and make mistakes. Learning shouldn’t be about memorizing facts—it should be about understanding the world, thinking critically, and discovering your own voice. I’m especially passionate about integrating technology into education in a way that enhances learning without replacing the human connection. Whether it’s using interactive tools, coding basics, or digital storytelling, I want to help students see technology not just as a distraction, but as a resource for learning and creating. I believe digital literacy is becoming just as essential as reading and writing, and I want to make sure my students are prepared for the future—not just academically, but socially and emotionally too. Beyond the classroom, I hope to be a mentor, advocate, and role model for students who may not always see themselves reflected in traditional educational spaces. Representation matters, and I want to be the kind of educator who listens, learns, and adapts to support each student’s unique path. Whether I’m teaching in a public school, developing educational resources, or leading after-school programs, my mission is to make education more equitable, accessible, and empowering for all. In the end, teaching isn’t just a job—it’s a commitment to building a better future, one student at a time. I believe every young person has potential, and I plan to dedicate my career to helping them realize it. That’s how I plan to make a positive impact on the world: by being the kind of educator who inspires, uplifts, and believes in every student’s ability to succeed.

One of the most meaningful projects I’ve worked on was creating a personal website from scratch to showcase my skills, interests, and early programming work. What started as a small experiment quickly became something I was deeply passionate about—not only because I was building something I could be proud of, but because I was learning how websites truly function behind the scenes. The project challenged me to think critically, problem-solve, and explore the creative side of technology in a way that made me realize I wanted to do this for the rest of my life. I used HTML, CSS, and a bit of JavaScript to create the foundation of the site. It started with a simple homepage, but as I learned more, I kept adding new elements like a contact form, an interactive resume section, and a gallery to display small coding challenges I had completed. I even integrated a blog section where I reflected on what I was learning as I built the site. There were times when things didn’t work—when the layout broke or the code wouldn’t run—and I’d spend hours researching, testing, and debugging. But I never got tired of it. If anything, the challenge made me more determined to figure it out. The satisfaction of solving a problem I had struggled with, and seeing it actually work, was unlike anything else. This project meant more to me than just building a website. It gave me a sense of ownership and confidence. I wasn’t just consuming content online—I was creating it. I started seeing websites and apps differently, thinking about what decisions developers had to make, how things were structured, and what could be improved. Technology became less of a mystery and more of a tool—one that I could use to build things, connect with others, and even express myself creatively. What inspires me most about working in technology is the constant opportunity to grow and make a real impact. Technology is always evolving, and that means there’s always more to learn. Whether it’s through software engineering, web development, or new fields like artificial intelligence, technology gives us the power to solve real-world problems, improve lives, and bring new ideas to life. It’s an industry that rewards curiosity, creativity, and persistence—all things I value deeply. I’ve also been inspired by the way my uncle, who was also a computer science major and a graduate of Towson University, shared his knowledge with me and helped me get started. His mentorship showed me how powerful it can be when someone believes in you and gives you the tools to succeed. That’s the kind of energy I want to bring to the tech world—not just building things, but uplifting others and contributing to something bigger than myself. This early project was just the beginning, but it confirmed for me that I want to build a future in tech—one where I can keep learning, keep building, and keep making a difference.

From a young age, I was always drawn to technology—curious about how apps worked, how websites were built, and how software could solve real problems. But it wasn’t until I started spending more time with my uncle that I truly discovered my passion for computer science. He graduated from Towson University with a degree in Computer Science and has been an incredible mentor and inspiration to me. Watching him build things from the ground up and solve complex problems with code made me realize how powerful and creative the world of computer science could be. More than that, he encouraged me to pursue what I love and reminded me that being passionate about your work is one of the most important keys to success. My uncle didn’t just help me learn how to code—he showed me how to think like a developer. Whether it was teaching me the basics of Python or explaining how websites are structured behind the scenes, he made the world of tech feel accessible and exciting. His support and guidance helped me understand that computer science isn’t just about numbers or programming languages—it’s about solving real-world problems and building tools that make people’s lives better. After I receive my degree in computer science, my goal is to become a software engineer or work in web development, helping to build useful and meaningful digital tools. I’m especially interested in front-end and full-stack development, and I would love to be part of a team that creates websites or applications that make everyday tasks easier or more enjoyable. I want to use my skills to design and develop things that actually help people—and maybe even inspire someone else the way my uncle inspired me. I believe I am a strong candidate for this scholarship not only because of my academic dedication, but because I have a clear passion and purpose behind my goals. I’m motivated, eager to learn, and I understand the value of hard work and mentorship. This scholarship would not only support me financially, but it would also give me the opportunity to continue pursuing a field that I truly love. With this support, I can continue to grow, give back, and ultimately help others the same way my uncle helped me.