I am a Mexican American woman who has chosen a path into working in mental health due to my history with medical hardship, cultural stigma, and personal loss. Growing up, I lived with severe asthma that often kept me pursuing physical activities and maintaining personal relationships. In college, the financial strain of constant treatments eventually forced me to put school on hold. To make life plans and wanting to reach life milestones in a timely manner and constantly being blocked by my health was very frustrating. For a long time I felt like my life existed in a cycle of survival instead of progress. Later, experiencing a miscarriage deepened my understanding of grief, isolation, and the ways marginalized communities often suffer in silence due to cultural expectations or limited access to support. For a while, my life experiences took a mental toll on me. However, they helped me realize that living through chronic illness affects your mental health. It can be overlooked when someone is simply trying to make it through the day. In the Latino community, many people keep their emotions to themselves and so they carry their their stress while believing they must be strong and quiet. I want to help change that and the way my community address mental health. My goal is to provide mental health services that are sensitive towards different cultures, while maintaining science-based care to immigrants, first-generation students, low-income families, and individuals coping with chronic illness or reproductive loss. I want to create spaces where people can speak openly about grief and generational trauma where they can identify their struggles without fear of judgment. My own battles have made me deeply empathetic, and attuned to the emotional layers beneath someone’s story. These experiences also shaped my activism. I advocate for accessible healthcare, reproductive justice, and mental health awareness in all the communities around me because I know how different my journey might have been with earlier support. Instead of seeing mental health as separate from other challenges, I view it as interconnected with poverty, and cultural stressors. These type of issues cause healthcare inequality among multiple cultural communities that can be tackled with support and mental health services. I want to focus on becoming a practitioner who provides care to multiple communities, and tries to make systemic change in providing access to mental health care services to others so no one has to choose between paying medical bills and pursuing their education, or between healing physically and being supported emotionally. Ultimately, my struggles have become guide in following a deeper goal; to help others feel seen and supported in their healing. I want to show marginalized communities that vulnerability is strength, that healing is possible, and that they deserve care that honors every part of who they are.

I am a Mexican American woman who has chosen a path into working in mental health due to my history with medical hardship, cultural stigma, and personal loss. Growing up, I lived with severe asthma that often kept me pursuing physical activities and maintaining personal relationships. In college, the financial strain of constant treatments eventually forced me to put school on hold. To make life plans and wanting to reach life milestones in a timely manner and constantly being blocked by my health was very frustrating. For a long time I felt like my life existed in a cycle of survival instead of progress. Later, experiencing a miscarriage deepened my understanding of grief, isolation, and the ways marginalized communities often suffer in silence due to cultural expectations or limited access to support. For a while, my life experiences took a mental toll on me. However, they helped me realize that living through chronic illness affects your mental health. It can be overlooked when someone is simply trying to make it through the day. In the Latino community, many people keep their emotions to themselves and so they carry their their stress while believing they must be strong and quiet. I want to help change that and the way my community address mental health. My goal is to provide mental health services that are sensitive towards different cultures, while maintaining science-based care to immigrants, first-generation students, low-income families, and individuals coping with chronic illness or reproductive loss. I want to create spaces where people can speak openly about grief and generational trauma where they can identify their struggles without fear of judgment. My own battles have made me deeply empathetic, and attuned to the emotional layers beneath someone’s story. These experiences also shaped my activism. I advocate for accessible healthcare, reproductive justice, and mental-health awareness in all the communities around me because I know how different my journey might have been with earlier support. Instead of seeing mental health as separate from other challenges, I view it as interconnected with poverty, and cultural stressors. These type of issues cause healthcare inequality among multiple cultural communities that can be tackled with support and mental health services. I want to focus on becoming a practitioner who provides care to multiple communities, and tries to make systemic change in providing access to mental health care services to others so no one has to choose between paying medical bills and pursuing their education, or between healing physically and being supported emotionally. Ultimately, my struggles have become guide in following a deeper goal; to help others feel seen and supported in their healing. I want to show marginalized communities that vulnerability is strength, that healing is possible, and that they deserve care that honors every part of who they are.

Growing up as a Mexican American, I was raised to be strong and grateful for every opportunity. However, in recent years, my strength was tested in ways I never imagined. As a child, I was diagnosed with severe asthma and ultimately had to take a break from school to pay for medical expenses. A few years later, during one of the most vulnerable periods of my life, I suffered a miscarriage. These experiences left me struggling with depression and a deep sense of loss. Overcoming these challenges has required therapy and a willingness to be open about my mental health despite my background. When I started college, I began to experience worsening asthma symptoms. I felt trapped in my own body. My symptoms caused me to slow down with both my personal and life goals. Missing classes and falling behind academically made me feel like I was letting my family and myself down. As a first-generation Mexican American, education was a stepping stone from the life my parents fought to provide us, to the life they always wanted for us. My parents immigrated to the United States to give me opportunities they never had, so stepping away from school felt like betraying everything they fought for. The guilt slowly turned into depression, and I began to isolate myself. I learned later that chronic illness and mental health struggles often go hand in hand, but at the time, I didn’t have the language or courage to talk about it. When I experienced a miscarriage, that silence deepened. Culturally, we treat any emotional and physical issues as a private matter. There was never room for discussion, as dealing with it silently was always the answer. I felt alone in my grief and ashamed of my sadness. What finally helped me begin to heal was reaching out for professional help and finding a therapist who understood both my cultural background and my health struggles. Through therapy, I began to see that vulnerability is not weakness. Talking openly about my pain gave me power over it and allowed me to begin rebuilding my life. Today, I am proud to be returning to school, working toward my degree, and learning to advocate for mental health awareness. I want to help those among communities of color. I want to support others who face similar challenges. I want to collaborate with cultural organizations and work o bilingual mental health workshops that help break the stigma around therapy and emotional wellbeing. Most importantly, I will share my story so others know they are not alone and that healing is possible. I believe being able to connect with those who have been taught to not speak about mental health will allow many others to open up about their experiences. Overcoming mental health challenges is an ongoing process. I still have difficult days, but I’ve learned to give myself grace. My journey with asthma, loss, and recovery has taught me compassion for myself and for others silently fighting their own battles. By turning my pain into something I can connect with others, I hope to build a future where seeking help is seen as an act of courage. I don't want individuals to feel any shame and battle the mental health struggles they might be going through. Creating a space where individuals can share their stories and traumas and learning to overcome them, like I have is one step towards moving forward.

The most personal thing about me is something that changed the course of my life in ways I could never anticipate. For me, loss came through both illness and a miscarriage. These experiences have tested every part of who I am. Through those challenges, I found strength, purpose, and a deeper love that now drives everything I do. For most of my life, I’ve struggled with severe asthma. It was a medical condition that shaped how I lived each day. There were times when I couldn’t participate in activities my friends enjoyed or even complete simple tasks without feeling short of breath. Constant illness made me feel fragile and isolated. It was frustrating to live in a body that felt like it was always betraying me. Over time, I learned to be resilient. I began to appreciate every normal day. Every deep breath, every moment I could be fully present with the people I love. Living with asthma taught me that strength doesn’t always look like running a marathon, sometimes, it’s enjoying the slow and simple pace of life. As an adult, I encountered another kind of loss, one that no one can truly prepare for. I had a miscarriage. When I miscarried, it felt as if a piece of me had disappeared. I was overwhelmed with sadness and anger, and my illness only magnified this pain. I questioned my body again, wondering why it couldn’t do what it was supposed to do. The months that followed were filled with uncertainty and grief. I eventually tried again to become pregnant. Every doctor’s appointment brought both hope and fear. It took over a year before I conceived again, but the day I held my child in my arms, every struggle was worth it. Today, I am blessed with two beautiful children who remind me of the strength that lives within me. These experiences shaped not only my resilience but also my purpose. Through illness and loss, I learned empathy in its truest form. The ability to understand pain, even when words can’t express it. That empathy has inspired my goal of earning a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. I want to help individuals and families who are struggling to move forward after trauma and loss. I understand how overwhelming it can be to feel broken or hopeless, and I want to be the kind of professional who listens, supports, and helps others rebuild their lives. My pain has become my motivation to create healing for others. Being a mother has also changed how I see the world. My children are my constant reminder that love can grow even from the darkest moments. They push me to keep learning, to keep fighting for a better future, not just for them, but for every person who feels trapped by circumstances beyond their control. I see psychology as a calling to make a difference. I want my children to see that even when life is filled with setbacks, it is still possible to rise, to heal, and to build something meaningful. My journey through illness and miscarriage has taught me that loss does not define us, how we respond to it does. It showed me that strength is not the absence of pain, but the decision to keep moving forward in spite of it. I now live with gratitude for every breath, every moment with my children, and every opportunity to help others find their own strength. That is what guides me now, and it’s what will continue to drive me as I pursue my education and my dream of helping others heal.

As a Mexican American and first-generation college student, my journey through higher education has been filled with both challenges and growth. My parents came to this country with dreams of a better life, and their sacrifices have shaped my commitment to make a lasting difference in my community. I am currently pursuing a degree in psychology with the goal of becoming a licensed clinical social worker who provides culturally competent mental health services to underserved Latino populations. My path toward this goal has not been easy. During my sophomore year, I had to take time off from school due to serious asthma issues that required long-term treatment. The combination of recovery time and mounting medical bills placed a heavy financial burden on my college plans. For months, I worked multiple jobs to help pay expenses while going to school. The decision to put my education on hold, was the hardest decision I made at the time. Although this experience temporarily disrupted my education, it strengthened my determination to complete my degree and deepened my understanding of the barriers that so many families face when dealing with both physical and financial hardship. Those challenges also helped me discover my passion for mental health advocacy. I witnessed how stress, illness, and financial strain can take an emotional toll on me. I understood how this also affected communities where mental health is often misunderstood or stigmatized. I realized that I want to be part of the solution by helping others heal and cope. My long-term goal is to establish community counseling that offers bilingual mental health services and outreach programs designed for Latino and other immigrant families. I want to create a space where people feel safe to share their struggles and receive the care they deserve. To prepare for this career, I have volunteered with local organizations that support young people experiencing anxiety and food insecurity. I also want to help organize mental health awareness events to help families in my community. These experiences have shown me how powerful it can be when people come together to break the silence around mental health and replace it with compassion and understanding. This scholarship would make a tremendous difference in helping me achieve these goals. By easing my financial burden, it would allow me to dedicate more time to my studies, complete my degree without additional gaps. It would allow me to gain the practical experience I need through volunteer work and possible internships. Instead of worrying about how to cover tuition or living expenses, I could focus fully on developing the skills and knowledge that will allow me to serve my community effectively. I have learned that adversity can become a source of strength and purpose. Every challenge I’ve faced has prepared me to be the kind of mental health professional who not only understands the struggles of others but has lived through them. With the support of this scholarship, I will continue to seek opportunities to heal and grow, so that I can give back to the community that has helped shape who I am.

I am a Mexican American student whose journey through higher education has been shaped by my unwavering commitment to serving my community due to my personal circumstances. Growing up in a bilingual household taught me the importance of empathy and perseverance. My parents, who immigrated from Mexico in search of better opportunities, instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility and to honor their values and sacrifices by creating positive change in the lives of others. My path through college has not been easy. During my sophomore year, I was forced to take time off from school due to serious asthma problems that required extended treatment. The mounting medical bills placed a heavy financial burden on my family, and I had to work multiple jobs to help make ends meet. Deciding to step away from school was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. It has deepened my understanding of the struggles that many people in my community face, as many must choose between their well-being and their education. Those experiences inspired me to pursue a career in mental health counseling. I have seen firsthand how physical and financial hardships often take a toll on mental health, particularly among low-income and immigrant families. The conversations about mental health are silenced by stigma, cultural expectations, or lack of access to affordable care. My goal is to change that by becoming a licensed clinical social worker and provide bilingual, culturally competent mental health services to underserved Latino communities. Throughout my adolescent and adult life, I have been actively involved in community service and advocacy. As a teen, I organized can drives and pet supply drives. As an adult I currently volunteer with a local non-profit that offers peer support groups for young people struggling with anxiety and food insecurity. I want to gain the skills to help organize mental health awareness workshops in my community. I am also exposing my children to the idea of giving back, even though I have dealt with struggles, it is always important to provide help to others who are going through a difficult time. These experiences have reaffirmed my belief that healing begins when people feel seen, heard, and supported. Receiving assistance to pay down my student loans would allow me to focus more fully on my studies and on building the foundation for my future career. Instead of worrying about debt, I could dedicate more time to certification training, and volunteer work that will strengthen my ability to serve my community effectively. Ultimately, the money I save would ease my financial burden and it would be an investment in the mental health and well-being of countless individuals who need compassionate, accessible care. My journey has taught me that adversity can be a source of strength. Every obstacle I’ve faced has deepened my empathy and strengthened my resolve to make a difference. With continued education and support, I am determined to turn my challenges into change for myself and the community that raised me.

I am a Mexican American student whose journey through higher education has been shaped by my unwavering commitment to serving my community due to my personal circumstances. Growing up in a bilingual household taught me the importance of empathy and perseverance. My parents, who immigrated from Mexico in search of better opportunities, instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility and to honor their values and sacrifices by creating positive change in the lives of others. My path through college has not been easy. During my sophomore year, I was forced to take time off from school due to serious asthma problems that required extended treatment. The mounting medical bills placed a heavy financial burden on my family, and I had to work multiple jobs to help make ends meet. Deciding to step away from school was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. It has deepened my understanding of the struggles that many people in my community face, as many must choose between their well-being and their education. Those experiences inspired me to pursue a career in mental health counseling. I have seen firsthand how physical and financial hardships often take a toll on mental health, particularly among low-income and immigrant families. The conversations about mental health are silenced by stigma, cultural expectations, or lack of access to affordable care. My goal is to change that by becoming a licensed clinical social worker and provide bilingual, culturally competent mental health services to underserved Latino communities. Throughout my adolescent and adult life, I have been actively involved in community service and advocacy. As a teen, I organized can drives and pet supply drives. As an adult I currently volunteer with a local non-profit that offers peer support groups for young people struggling with anxiety and food insecurity. I want to gain the skills to help organize mental health awareness workshops in my community. I am also exposing my children to the idea of giving back, even though I have dealt with struggles, it is always important to provide help to others who are going through a difficult time. These experiences have reaffirmed my belief that healing begins when people feel seen, heard, and supported. Receiving assistance to pay down my student loans would allow me to focus more fully on my studies and on building the foundation for my future career. Instead of worrying about debt, I could dedicate more time to certification training, and volunteer work that will strengthen my ability to serve my community effectively. Ultimately, the money I save would ease my financial burden and it would be an investment in the mental health and well-being of countless individuals who need compassionate, accessible care. My journey has taught me that adversity can be a source of strength. Every obstacle I’ve faced has deepened my empathy and strengthened my resolve to make a difference. With continued education and support, I am determined to turn my challenges into change for myself and the community that raised me.

Living with a chronic condition has heavily shaped every aspect of my life from my goals and my career trajectory. When my health first began to decline, I was forced to make one of the most difficult decisions of my life, stepping away from school. At the time, I felt like failure. I had always envisioned a straight path to success, but instead I found myself navigating doctors’ appointments, medical treatments, and an endless cycle of bills and paperwork. The financial weight of my care became a priority I could not ignore. Each month was a balancing act between survival and stability, and I decided that pursuing my education had to wait. During that period, I learned more about strength than I ever had in a classroom. The world did not pause for me, but I learned how to slow down and listen to my body. I learned to rest, and recognize that slowing down is not the same as giving up. The experience also exposed me to the harsh reality of how isolating chronic illness can be. Friends moved forward with their lives while I felt stuck in place, watching from the sidelines. The emotional toll was heavy, and there were moments where I was alone and hopeless. Through my struggles, I had a a wonderful support system from loved ones and learned to be more empathetic. As I fought to regain stability, I began to see that my journey had equipped me with an understanding many others lack, particularly with those who faced challenges and conditions beyond their control. I became determined to use my experience not as a source of shame or limitation, but as a tool for connection. What once felt like a setback has become a source of motivation. Every medical bill I paid, and every day I chose to keep moving forward became a symbol of persistence that allowed me to return to school. I return to school with renewed purpose. I want to support others who battle not only the physical symptoms of chronic conditions but also the emotional aftermath from anxiety and a loss of identity. Mental health struggles often grow in the shadow of chronic illness, and too many people suffer in silence. My goal is to change that, as many people don't think that this is a challenge many face. I want to create spaces where individuals feel seen and empowered to seek help without shame. What inspires me to excel now is knowing that my story can make a difference. I no longer view my health challenges as barriers but as bridges that connect me to others who need encouragement to keep going. I’ve learned that resilience is not measured by how fast we recover, but by our willingness to continue despite uncertainty. My experience taught me that while we cannot always control what happens to us, we can control how we respond and how we grow. Through education and advocacy, I hope to turn my pain into purpose. I want to help others learn that healing is not linear, and that every step forward, no matter how small, is an act of courage.

Being a first-generation student means working towards something that my parents sacrificed so much for. A lot of the hurdles I face will be done alone, with no one to guide me through. There is a lot of work with the expectation that my parent's sacrifice will be enough to help me learn to advocate for myself when silence was what my culture often expected. Growing up, I was taught to stay strong, to keep my pain private, and to put on a brave face no matter what. But inside, I struggled with something many people wouldn't think was a struggle. With my severe asthma, it often made me feel weak and isolated, and later with the deep grief of a miscarriage I learned that mental health is something very important. My culture didn’t allow open conversations about loss or mental health, so I carried my pain quietly, smiling on the outside while fighting invisible battles within. Its very difficult trying to weave through maintaining some of your cultural roots and assimilating to the American culture. For a long time, I believed that strength meant silence. But through my own healing process, I learned that real strength can also mean vulnerability. I realized how damaging it can be when people are told not to speak about their emotions or trauma. This realization lit a fire in me to pursue a career in mental health. I want be the kind of person who listens and helps others heal. I want to focus on those from cultures where mental health is stigmatized. Being a first-generation student also means that every step toward higher education comes with uncertainty. I don’t have family members who can guide me through applications, financial aid forms, or the academic system. I’ve learned to advocate for myself in the school system and for my mental health. When my health issues flared or my grief felt overwhelming, I took solace in the fact that I'm working towards making sure no one else has to feel alone in their suffering. This scholarship would represent a belief in my journey. It would allow me to continue my education in psychology and mental health counseling without the constant worry of how to pay for tuition or books. More importantly, it would give me the chance to focus on my career goals of working with people from all cultures and help them feel safe to talk about their mental health. I want to bridge the gap between cultural beliefs and barriers and mental health care. I want to support the idea that seeking help is not a weakness, but it is courageous. Being a first-generation student has taught me that I am not defined by what I’ve lost, but by how I choose to rise. I carry my pain as purpose now, and every challenge brings me closer to the person I’m determined to become.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I feel a great pride knowing I’m one of the first in my family to pursue a college education. My parents came to the United States with little more than hope and determination. They worked long hours and sacrificed their own dreams so that I could have opportunities they never had. Growing up, I saw the challenges they faced from language barriers, financial struggles, and never giving themselves a moment to rest. Watching them made me understand the value of perseverance. Their efforts taught me that education is not just a goal, but a way to build a better life. My journey to higher education hasn’t been easy. A few years ago, I had to take time off from school because of health issues and the medical bills that followed. At the time, I felt lost. It was hard watching my plans fall apart after working so hard to get there, after seeing my parents work so hard to get me here. That time away has taught me a lot about the how paths are not always linear. I realized that life doesn’t always follow the timeline we expect, and stepping back doesn’t mean giving up. During that time, I learned to be more responsible, and the importance of taking care of myself, these are lessons I use in my personal life and will be using in my academic life. When I first started college, I often felt like an outsider. As a first-generation student, I didn’t have anyone at home who could explain things like financial aid, or how to navigate the system. Many of my classmates seemed to already know how college worked, while I had to figure it out piece by piece. It was frustrating, but it also made me more independent. I learned to speak up and ask questions. I discovered that being a first-generation student might mean facing more obstacles, but it also builds a kind of strength that can’t be taught in a classroom. Now that I’m returning to school, I feel more motivated than ever. My time away helped me understand why I’m doing this, to create stability for my future and to make a difference in my community. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology because I want to help others who are struggling, especially within the Latino community. Mental health is often overlooked or misunderstood in our culture, and I want to help change that by making support more accessible and breaking down the stigma around it. I still have worries about reentering school after being away, but I’m no longer the same person I was before. I’ve faced challenges, learned from them, and come back stronger. I know I belong in higher education because I’ve worked hard to be here. I am going school for myself, my family, and everyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. Accomplishment for me means that I still finish the race, even if I I didn't take the straightforward path.

As a Mexican American, I’ve witnessed how my culture has shaped my understanding of mental health. It has been a source of strength but it has also been barrier to receive mental health care. In my community and many Latino communities, mental health struggles are often met with silence, faith, or stigma rather than open conversation. My unique contribution to the world would be bridging this gap by combining culturally grounded values with accessible mental health resources. I want to create a or help initiate bilingual community-based programs that integrate the understanding of culture but also modern ideas from psychology to help those who need help. I would love to help train bilingual counselors and teach the community that they have access to personal counselors, but also digital platforms for low-cost therapy. I want to help make mental health care more affordable and inclusive for underserved populations. Through workshops and advocacy, I want to normalize seeking help and show that caring for your mind is just as important as caring for your body. My goal is to help first-generation families understand that mental wellness and cultural identity can coexist beautifully. In doing so, I hope to create a world where no one feels ashamed to ask for help, and where healing is accessible, affirming, and deeply rooted in the richness of our shared heritage.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I feel a great pride knowing I’m one of the first in my family to pursue a college education. My parents came to the United States with little more than hope and determination. They worked long hours and sacrificed their own dreams so that I could have opportunities they never had. Growing up, I saw the challenges they faced from language barriers, financial struggles, and never giving themselves a moment to rest. Watching them made me understand the value of perseverance. Their efforts taught me that education is not just a goal, but a way to build a better life. My journey to higher education hasn’t been easy. A few years ago, I had to take time off from school because of health issues and the medical bills that followed. At the time, I felt lost. It was hard watching my plans fall apart after working so hard to get there, after seeing my parents work so hard to get me here. That time away has taught me a lot about the how paths are not always linear. I realized that life doesn’t always follow the timeline we expect, and stepping back doesn’t mean giving up. During that time, I learned to be more responsible, and the importance of taking care of myself, these are lessons I use in my personal life and will be using in my academic life. When I first started college, I often felt like an outsider. As a first-generation student, I didn’t have anyone at home who could explain things like financial aid, or how to navigate the system. Many of my classmates seemed to already know how college worked, while I had to figure it out piece by piece. It was frustrating, but it also made me more independent. I learned to speak up and ask questions. I discovered that being a first-generation student might mean facing more obstacles, but it also builds a kind of strength that can’t be taught in a classroom. Now that I’m returning to school, I feel more motivated than ever. My time away helped me understand why I’m doing this, to create stability for my future and to make a difference in my community. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology because I want to help others who are struggling, especially within the Latino community. Mental health is often overlooked or misunderstood in our culture, and I want to help change that by making support more accessible and breaking down the stigma around it. I still have worries about reentering school after being away, but I’m no longer the same person I was before. I’ve faced challenges, learned from them, and come back stronger. I know I belong in higher education because I’ve worked hard to be here. This time, I’m not just going to school for myself, I’m doing it for my family, my community, and everyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. Linear paths aren't always the right path, in fact, the rocky path I've taken represents the path a lot of underrepresented people take.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I feel a great pride knowing I’m one of the first in my family to pursue a college education. My parents came to the United States with little more than hope and determination. They worked long hours and sacrificed their own dreams so that I could have opportunities they never had. Growing up, I saw the challenges they faced from language barriers, financial struggles, and never giving themselves a moment to rest. Watching them made me understand the value of perseverance. Their efforts taught me that education is a way to build a better life. My journey to higher education hasn’t been easy. A few years ago, I had to take time off from school because of health issues and the medical bills that followed. At the time, I felt lost. It was hard watching my plans fall apart after working so hard to get there, after seeing my parents work so hard to get me here. That time away has taught me a lot about the how paths are not always linear. I realized that life doesn’t always follow the timeline we expect, and stepping back doesn’t mean giving up. During that time, I learned to be more responsible and the importance of taking care of myself. Now that I’m returning to school, I feel more motivated than ever. My time away helped me understand why I’m doing this, to create stability for my future and to make a difference in my community. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology because I want to help others who are struggling, especially within the Latino community. Mental health is often overlooked or misunderstood in our culture, and I want to help change that by making support more accessible and breaking down the stigma around it. As a first-generation student, I carry the traditions and values of my family while embracing the opportunities of higher education. This gives me a unique perspective as a future counselor. I hope to return to my community equipped with professional knowledge and empathy, offering counseling and outreach programs that respect cultural values while promoting emotional well-being. My journey is about transforming the narrative around mental health for future generations of immigrant families. Breaking barriers as a first-generation Mexican American student means paving the way for others to see that education can be a tool for healing and empowerment. My career in mental health will not just be a profession; it will be a continuation of my family’s legacy translated into advocacy and compassion. I am passionate about this path because it represents both where I come from and where I want my community to go. I want a future where caring for our minds is as valued as caring for our families and dreams. I still have worries about reentering school after being away, but I’m no longer the same person I was before. I’ve faced challenges, learned from them, and come back stronger. I know I belong in higher education because I’ve worked hard to be here. This time, I’m not just going to school for myself, I’m doing it for my family, my community, and everyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I feel a great pride knowing I’m one of the first in my family to pursue a college education. My parents came to the United States with little more than hope and determination. They worked long hours and sacrificed their own dreams so that I could have opportunities they never had. Growing up, I saw the challenges they faced from language barriers, financial struggles, and never giving themselves a moment to rest. Watching them made me understand the value of perseverance. Their efforts taught me that education is not just a goal, but a way to build a better life. My journey to higher education hasn’t been easy. A few years ago, I had to take time off from school because of health issues and the medical bills that followed. At the time, I felt lost. It was hard watching my plans fall apart after working so hard to get there, after seeing my parents work so hard to get me here. That time away has taught me a lot about the how paths are not always linear. I realized that life doesn’t always follow the timeline we expect, and stepping back doesn’t mean giving up. During that time, I learned to be more responsible, and the importance of taking care of myself, these are lessons I use in my personal life and will be using in my academic life. When I first started college, I often felt like an outsider. As a first-generation student, I didn’t have anyone at home who could explain things like financial aid, or how to navigate the system. Many of my classmates seemed to already know how college worked, while I had to figure it out piece by piece. It was frustrating, but it also made me more independent. I learned to speak up and ask questions. I discovered that being a first-generation student might mean facing more obstacles, but it also builds a kind of strength that can’t be taught in a classroom. Now that I’m returning to school, I feel more motivated than ever. My time away helped me understand why I’m doing this, to create stability for my future and to make a difference in my community. I’m pursuing a degree in psychology because I want to help others who are struggling, especially within the Latino community. Mental health is often overlooked or misunderstood in our culture, and I want to help change that by making support more accessible and breaking down the stigma around it. I still have worries about reentering school after being away, but I’m no longer the same person I was before. I’ve faced challenges, learned from them, and come back stronger. I know I belong in higher education because I’ve worked hard to be here. This time, I’m not just going to school for myself, I’m doing it for my family, my community, and everyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong.

As a first-generation Mexican American college student, my life experience and status has influence my passion for mental health advocacy. Growing up, I witnessed how cultural stigmas often discouraged open conversations about emotions, and mental health. In my community, strength was often defined by endurance and how much one could handle without asking for help. While this resilience is admirable, I also saw how silence and unaddressed pain affected our community. These experiences inspired my goal of becoming a mental health professional who creates culturally sensitive spaces for healing within the Latino community. As the first in my family to navigate college, I’ve learned to balance the values that I learned from my family and community and navigating a world in higher education, alone. My parents taught me hard work and humility, but college has shown me the importance of education and advocacy. I want to use my education to challenge the belief that mental health care is a sign of weakness. Instead, I aim to show that seeking help is an act of courage and self-respect. Being a first-generation student also means that I am creating a bridge between cultures, and different perspectives perspectives through mental health. I hope to return to my community equipped with both professional knowledge and empathy, offering counseling and outreach programs that respect cultural values while promoting emotional wellness. My journey is not only about earning a degree but about transforming the narrative around mental health for future generations. In breaking barriers as a first-generation student, I am paving the way for others to see that caring for our minds is just as important as caring for our families. My career goal is not just a profession, it will help me with my mission to heal and empower my community.

My journey toward understanding my mental health and foraging a future to helping others began in a hospital room. Long nights filled with fear, and moments of heartbreak. Living with severe asthma and the pain of miscarriage reshaped my relationship with myself and others. These experiences taught me the importance of empathy, and mental well-being. It ultimately inspired me to pursue a degree in psychology so I can help others find healing after trauma. For most of my life, severe asthma was a overbearing. It was an illness with limitations that followed me everywhere. I often felt trapped in my own body. Wanting to do things that my health wouldn’t allow. There were days I couldn’t play outside, attend school events, or even climb a flight of stairs without wheezing for air. I grew used to emergency room visits and inhalers, but what I didn’t realize at the time was how much it affected my mental health. The constant uncertainty of never knowing when I might get sick again always filled me with anxiety and frustration. Looking back now, I realize that those experiences were my first experiences of mental health. I began to understand that emotional pain can be just as real and difficult as physical pain. I learned to be patient with myself and to appreciate small victories. My asthma forced me to slow down, but it also taught me how to listen to my emotions. I thought that there must be others who were struggling in silence. Years later, I faced a loss that tested me in ways I could never have imagined. When I miscarried, I felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under me. It wasn’t just grief; it was confusion, anger, guilt, and a deep sadness I didn't understand. I questioned everything from my health to my worth, and my ability to be a mother. Every time I saw a baby or heard about a pregnancy, it reminded me of what I had lost. My mental health began to spiral, and I didn’t know how to ask for help. That period of my life was one of the hardest and most transformative. Slowly, I began to open up about what I was feeling. I found strength in vulnerability and learned that healing doesn’t happen overnight. Eventually I became pregnant again. I was filled with both joy and fear. Every milestone carried the weight of past loss. But when I finally held my child in my arms, I felt something shift inside me. The grief I had carried for so long began to transform. It didn't disappear, but it evolved into purpose. Today, I have two beautiful children who remind me daily of how precious life is, and how strong love can be even in the face of pain. Through those experiences, I began to see mental health not as a weakness but as a vital part of being human. I realized how many people struggle silently with anxiety, depression, grief or trauma as I have. I am pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology because I want to help others navigate their pain, and rebuild their lives after hardship. I want to be the kind of person I needed when I was struggling. Someone who listens without judgment and offers understanding instead of pity. I want to help others see that healing is possible.

My story of resilience isn’t about never falling, but about learning how to stand up again, even when breathing feels like a battle. Living with severe asthma has taught me that strength can look quiet while learning to pace myself when my lungs can’t, and believing in my dreams even when my body slows me down. During my early years in college, my health took a turn for the worse. Repeated hospital visits, constant fatigue, and mounting medical bills made it impossible to keep up with both school and the cost of living. I made one of the hardest decisions of my life, I take a break from my education and decided to work full-time to pay off debts and stabilize my health. At the time, it felt like failure. But in hindsight, it was an act of resilience. I wasn’t giving up on my goals, I was finding a way to sustain them. Those years away from school became a period of growth. I learned financial responsibility, self-advocacy in healthcare, and a discipline to balance treatment with full-time work. Each paycheck went toward clearing my debts and rebuilding a future where I could return to my education without the literal and figurative weight of uncertainty on my chest. Coming back to finish my bachelor’s degree has been both humbling and empowering. I’ve learned to plan my semesters around my health, communicate openly with professors, and seek out support services that make success sustainable, not just possible. My asthma is still a daily challenge, but it no longer defines the limits of my ambition. Instead, it defines my determination. Resilience, for me, means refusing to measure progress by how fast I move, but by how persistently I continue. I may take longer to reach the finish line, but every step forward represents not just recovery, but strength earned through endurance. Living with a chronic condition has taught me that success is about persistence and the courage to keep showing up to achieve my goals.

As a Mexican American, I was raised to be strong, to keep my struggles private, and to stay resilient no matter how much I might be struggling. That strength has shaped who I am, but it has also taught me that true leadership and growth often come from breaking silence and allowing vulnerability to become purpose. My journey of navigating personal loss and facing health challenges which forced me to step away from school, have strengthened the five traits that define who I am today. I am someone who demonstrates strong leadership and communication skills, am resilient, unselfish, determination, and have strong work ethic. Leadership and communication have become vital parts of my everyday life. Growing up in a culture where emotions were often kept inside, I learned how to listen deeply. After experiencing a miscarriage, I began speaking openly about my mental health and the importance of seeking support, especially within my community. This openness has allowed me to connect with others on a meaningful level and lead by example. I’ve learned that leadership isn’t about authority, it’s about empathy and honesty. I developed the courage to create a space for others to be heard. Resilience defines my path. When I faced serious health issues that forced me to leave school, it felt like everything I had worked for slipped away. But instead of giving up, I used that time to focus on recovery and self-reflection. My setbacks became stepping stones. I’ve learned to adapt, rebuild, and keep going no matter how many times life tests me. Every challenge I’ve faced, has strengthened my ability to rise again with purpose. I am now half-way through reaching my BA. Being unselfish has always come naturally to me. In my family and culture, we are taught to care for others before ourselves. Through my experiences, I’ve learned to balance that generosity with compassion for myself. Whether it’s supporting a friend through their own loss or encouraging someone to seek help for their mental health. These experiences have allowed me to uplift others. My struggles have given me a deeper empathy and a genuine desire to make a difference in people’s lives. My determination have guided me through every setback. Leaving school was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made, but it didn’t end my academic journey, it just postponed it. I have remained focused to return to school and complete my degree. Now that I have children of my own, I believe this gives them an example to never give up on your dreams. I know what it means to fight for something that matters, and I’m ready to continue that fight with passion. I also have a strong work ethic that comes from my roots. My parents and culture taught me to always put in effort with pride and integrity. Whether it’s in my job, my studies, or with personal growth, I give my best because I understand the value of opportunity. I’ve learned to work hard and I want to be able to give back to those around me. Leadership, to me, means service. It means using your voice to uplift others, standing firm through adversity, and showing others that strength doesn’t mean silence. My goal is to complete my degree and pursue a career where I can advocate for mental health awareness and provide support for others who feel unseen or unheard. My journey has shown me that leadership is about about purpose, and the determination to keep moving forward, even when the path is uncertain.

Growing up Mexican American, I was raised with the idea to keep your head high and your feelings tucked away. In my family, emotions were private matters, often swallowed before they reached the surface. Crying or opening up was seen as weakness, and I learned early on that silence was a form of survival. For years, I believed that if I simply stayed strong enough, pain would pass on its own. That belief shattered when I experienced a miscarriage. Suddenly, I was carrying a grief that silence could not contain. I remember sitting in my car after the appointment, numb, staring at the steering wheel, unsure who I could tell. My culture had taught me to endure quietly, but my heart was breaking in a language I didn’t know how to speak. I tried to go about my days as if nothing had happened, but the weight of that unspoken pain isolated me. It was during that time that I realized mental health isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a vital part of being human. I began to question the cultural expectations that had shaped me. Why did we believe that strength meant silence? Why did we hide our pain instead of healing it? I am very fortunate that I had a very understanding partner. Talking about my loss allowed me to understand that vulnerability is not the opposite of strength. We leaned on each other and gave each other a different, deeper kind of strength. This shift in perspective has transformed my relationships. I’ve learned to speak honestly with my family and friends, even when it feels uncomfortable. I’ve begun encouraging others, especially within my community, to talk about their struggles, That it's important to seek help, and to let go of the shame often attached to mental health. What once felt like a personal burden has become a source of connection and empathy. Professionally, my experience has guided me toward a career where I can advocate for mental health awareness, particularly among communities of color. Whether through counseling or community outreach, I want to help others see that healing doesn’t mean forgetting. Healing can mean facing pain with compassion. I want to be the voice I needed, someone who can help others feel seen in their silent suffering. Today, I still carry the lessons of my culture, but I’ve also learned that true strength comes from balance. To honor where I come from while allowing myself to grow beyond the silence. My experience with mental health has taught me that healing begins when we find the courage to speak.

Early childhood development trauma can leave deep and lasting scars that affect emotional well-being, relationships, and a person’s ability to cope with life’s challenges. When children experience trauma, whether through neglect, abuse, or exposure to violence, it can alter the way their brains process stress and emotions. Without early support, these effects often follow them into adulthood. Eventually, showing up as anxiety, depression, or difficulty forming healthy connections. Unfortunately, in many minority communities, these issues are rarely discussed, and children grow up believing that emotional pain should be hidden rather than healed. As a Mexican American, I’ve seen firsthand how cultural values of strength and endurance often lead families to stay silent about their struggles. In my own family, conversations about mental health were discouraged. People were told to “tough it out” instead of asking for help. I’ve watched loved ones suffer quietly, feeling shame for emotions that were never validated. In some cases, that silence became unbearable, costing lives that might have been saved through understanding and care. Those experiences have shaped my passion for mental health advocacy and inspired my desire to pursue a degree in psychology. I believe that addressing early childhood trauma requires more than therapy, it requires cultural understanding. Many minority families do not seek help because they fear being misunderstood or judged by professionals who don’t share their cultural background. My goal is to become a psychologist who bridges that gap by providing culturally competent care that honors people’s experiences and traditions while helping them heal. I want to help families recognize that seeking mental health support is not a sign of weakness, but an act of courage and love. Through my education, I plan to study how early trauma impacts brain development and behavior, especially in children from underserved communities. I want to work in community-based settings, where I can educate families about mental health and provide resources for children experiencing trauma. My goal is to facilitate safe spaces where children can learn to express their emotions and where parents can find guidance without fear of stigma. Breaking the generational cycle of silence is not easy, but it starts with conversation, compassion, and education. I hope to use my degree to advocate for early intervention programs that identify and support children affected by trauma before their pain becomes lifelong suffering. My personal experiences have shown me that healing is possible when people feel seen and understood. By combining my cultural insight with my education in psychology, I want to help ensure that no child feels like they must endure their pain alone. My ultimate goal is to turn my passion into purpose and to give a voice to those who were taught to stay silent and to help them find strength through healing.

When my mother-in-law was diagnosed with Stage III cervical cancer, my life took on a new rhythm. A rhythm guided by hospital visits, medication schedules, and moments of hope between treatments. At the same time, I am raising my children and pursuing my education while being a full time worker. Balancing these roles is not easy, but it shaped me in profound ways. Being a caregiver taught me about resilience, compassion, and the deep meaning of service, while motherhood, working, and education gave me purpose and direction. Together, these experiences have defined who I am and the goals I am striving toward. At first, caregiving felt overwhelming. Watching someone you love fight a disease as relentless as cancer changes you. I learned to be patient in uncertainty, to find strength in vulnerability, and to celebrate even the smallest victories. As I helped manage her care, I became more organized and attentive. I learned how to communicate with doctors, I am advocating for her needs, and providing comfort through both words and my presence. These lessons became part of my identity. They taught me that care is not just an act, it’s a mindset rooted in empathy and responsibility. Meanwhile, being a mother meant my children were watching me navigate this journey. I wanted them to see that compassion and perseverance can coexist with ambition. Balancing working, schoolwork, caregiving, and motherhood means late nights, missed social events, and constant juggling of work, school, care, and intimate family time. But it also meant growth. My children are learning the importance of family, kindness, and education through living examples. I found myself working between chemotherapy appointments, writing papers after bedtime stories, and drawing strength from the very people I was caring for. This experience has deeply influenced my goals. I am pursuing my education not just to build a career, but to serve others more effectively. Whether through healthcare, social work, or another helping profession, I want to use my skills to support families like mine. Families who face illness with courage but need guidance and compassion along the way. Caregiving opened my eyes to the power of human connection, and I want to dedicate my life to making that connection part of my professional identity. Ultimately, caregiving reshaped how I see myself. It taught me that strength is not the absence of struggle, but it’s the decision to keep going, even when life feels impossible. It made me a better student, a more patient mother, and a more empathetic person. My mother-in-law’s fight reminds me that every challenge carries the potential for growth. Through her journey, I discovered my own.

Loss comes in many forms, and sometimes it arrives quietly, changing the course of your life in ways you could never anticipate. For me, loss came through both illness and a miscarriage. These experiences have tested every part of who I am. Through those challenges, I found strength, purpose, and a deeper love that now drives everything I do. For most of my life, I’ve struggled with severe asthma. It was a medical condition that shaped how I lived each day. There were times when I couldn’t participate in activities my friends enjoyed or even complete simple tasks without feeling short of breath. Constant illness made me feel fragile and isolated. It was frustrating to live in a body that felt like it was always betraying me. Over time, I learned to be resilient. I began to appreciate every normal day. Every deep breath, every moment I could be fully present with the people I love. Living with asthma taught me that strength doesn’t always look like running a marathon, sometimes, it’s enjoying the slow and simple pace of life. As an adult, I encountered another kind of loss, one that no one can truly prepare for. I had a miscarriage. When I miscarried, it felt as if a piece of me had disappeared. I was overwhelmed with sadness and anger, and my illness only magnified this pain. I questioned my body again, wondering why it couldn’t do what it was supposed to do. The months that followed were filled with uncertainty and grief. I eventually tried again to become pregnant. Every doctor’s appointment brought both hope and fear. It took over a year before I conceived again, but the day I held my child in my arms, every struggle was worth it. Today, I am blessed with two beautiful children who remind me of the strength that lives within me. These experiences shaped not only my resilience but also my purpose. Through illness and loss, I learned empathy in its truest form. The ability to understand pain, even when words can’t express it. That empathy has inspired my goal of earning a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology. I want to help individuals and families who are struggling to move forward after trauma and loss. I understand how overwhelming it can be to feel broken or hopeless, and I want to be the kind of professional who listens, supports, and helps others rebuild their lives. My pain has become my motivation to create healing for others. Being a mother has also changed how I see the world. My children are my constant reminder that love can grow even from the darkest moments. They push me to keep learning, to keep fighting for a better future, not just for them, but for every person who feels trapped by circumstances beyond their control. I see psychology as a calling to make a difference. I want my children to see that even when life is filled with setbacks, it is still possible to rise, to heal, and to build something meaningful. My journey through illness and miscarriage has taught me that loss does not define us, how we respond to it does. It showed me that strength is not the absence of pain, but the decision to keep moving forward in spite of it. I now live with gratitude for every breath, every moment with my children, and every opportunity to help others find their own strength. That is what guides me now, and it’s what will continue to drive me as I pursue my education and my dream of helping others heal.

Mental health is something that often remains invisible until it touches your life in ways you can not ignore. My journey toward understanding mental health began in a hospital room. Long nights filled with fear, and moments of heartbreak. Living with severe asthma and the pain of miscarriage reshaped my relationship with myself and others. These experiences taught me the importance of empathy, and mental well-being. It ultimately inspired me to pursue a degree in psychology so I can help others find healing after trauma. For most of my life, severe asthma was a overbearing. It was an illness with limitations that followed me everywhere. I often felt trapped in my own body. Wanting to do things that my health wouldn’t allow. There were days I couldn’t play outside, attend school events, or even climb a flight of stairs without wheezing for air. I grew used to emergency room visits and inhalers, but what I didn’t realize at the time was how much it affected my mental health. The constant uncertainty of never knowing when I might get sick again always filled me with anxiety and frustration. I felt different from other people my age, as though life was moving forward without me. Looking back now, I realize that those experiences were my first experiences of mental health. I began to understand that emotional pain can be just as real and difficult as physical pain. I learned to be patient with myself and to appreciate small victories. My asthma forced me to slow down, but it also taught me how to listen to my emotions. I began to realize that there must be others who were struggling in silence. Years later, I faced a loss that tested me in ways I could never have imagined. When I miscarried, I felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under me. It wasn’t just grief; it was confusion, anger, guilt, and a deep sadness I didn't understand. I questioned everything from my health to my worth, and my ability to be a mother. Every time I saw a baby or heard about a pregnancy, it reminded me of what I had lost. I tried to put on a brave face, but inside, I was falling apart. My mental health began to spiral, and I didn’t know how to ask for help. That period of my life was one of the hardest and most transformative. Slowly, I began to open up about what I was feeling. I found strength in vulnerability and learned that healing doesn’t happen overnight. It happens in small, imperfect steps. Eventually I became pregnant again. I was filled with both joy and fear. Every milestone carried the weight of past loss. But when I finally held my child in my arms, I felt something shift inside me. The grief I had carried for so long began to transform. It didn't disappear, but it evolved into purpose. Today, I have two beautiful children who remind me daily of how precious life is, and how strong love can be even in the face of pain. Through those experiences, I began to see mental health not as a weakness but as a vital part of being human. I realized how many people struggle silently with anxiety, depression, grief or trauma as I have. I am pursuing a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology because I want to help others navigate their pain, and rebuild their lives after hardship. I want to be the kind of person I needed when I was struggling. Someone who listens without judgment and offers understanding instead of pity. I want to help others see that healing is possible. My experiences have also changed the way I relate to others. I have learned to approach people with more compassion and patience, because we never truly know what battles they might be fighting. This perspective has deepened my relationships, especially as a mother. Raising children while managing my own physical and emotional challenges has taught me the importance of empathy and emotional intelligence. I strive to teach my children that it’s okay to feel sad, scared, or frustrated. That acknowledging those emotions is the first step toward healing. My journey has shown me that mental health is important. I believe that if we want to build a kinder, stronger society, we need to start by making mental health a priority. Many suffer in silence because they fear judgment or to "be brave" instead of being honest. My goal is to challenge that stigma through my future work in psychology. Whether I’m working with families, children, or individuals coping with loss. I want to create spaces where people feel safe to share their stories and find hope again. There was a time when I felt broken by the things I had lost. My health, my pregnancy, and my sense of control. But now, I see those experiences as the foundation of who I’ve become. They taught me to be more resilient, to be more empathetic to others. They showed me that healing isn’t about forgetting pain, but about learning from it and using it to build something meaningful. Today, when I look at my children, I see not just love but purpose. They remind me why I keep pushing forward. Why I study late at night, why I chase my dreams, and why I refuse to give up when life gets hard. My mental health journey has not been easy, but it has given me clarity. I understand that every struggle, every loss, every setback is a chance to grow and to help others do the same. In the end, my experiences with illness, miscarriage, and recovery have shaped me into someone who believes deeply in the power of compassion and connection. They have guided me toward a career that allows me to give back and support others in their darkest moments. I want to remind them, just as I once had to remind myself, that healing is always possible.

I believe I deserve this scholarship because my journey has been defined by perseverance, purpose, and a deep commitment to helping others. When I first started college in 2009, I was filled with excitement and ambition. I had a clear vision for my future and a strong desire to make a positive impact in the world. However, life took an unexpected turn when I began struggling with medical issues that became increasingly severe. The physical challenges were hard enough, but the financial burden that followed was even harder to bear. Eventually, I had to make one of the most difficult decisions of my life, to step away from my education so I could focus on my health and manage the mounting medical bills. At the time, that decision made me feel like a failure. I had always seen education as the key to stability and personal fulfillment, and letting it go was heartbreaking. Yet, as the years passed, I began to realize that this detour was shaping me into someone stronger and more compassionate than I could have ever imagined. That season of hardship taught me the power of perseverance and the importance of never losing sight of one’s goals, no matter how long it takes to achieve them. There were many moments when I questioned whether I would ever return to school. With every bill I paid and every job I worked, I felt the weight of unfinished dreams. But those feelings were balanced by hope and the persistent belief that my story wasn’t over. I leaned heavily on my loved ones, who constantly reminded me of my potential and encouraged me to keep going. Their faith in me kept my own spark alive, even during my lowest moments. Over the years, I continued to live my life and was fortunate enough to build a family who now motivate me more and more every day. I took classes whenever I could, even when it meant sacrificing sleep or personal time. Slowly but surely, I chipped away at my medical debt and began to regain control of my health. After the birth of my second child, I was diagnosed with eosinophilic asthma. It was both a relief and a challenge. This gave a name for what had been holding me back, but also another obstacle to face. When I was prescribed a biologic treatment, everything changed. For the first time in years, I could breathe freely without constant medical visits or fear of hospitalization. That newfound health gave me the freedom to dream again, to fully commit to finishing what I started so many years ago. My experiences have taught me that not everyone’s path in life is linear. Some of us take the long road; not because we lack determination, but because life demands that we grow in ways we never expected. I’ve learned to see my journey not as delayed, but as deeply enriched. The challenges I’ve faced have given me empathy, resilience, pride, and an unwavering desire to help others find their way through difficult times. That’s why I chose to pursue a degree in psychology. Having experienced physical illness, financial strain, and emotional exhaustion, I know how overwhelming it can feel to navigate life’s challenges without the right support. I want to be that support for others. My goal is to work with families and individuals facing hardship, helping them find strength and healing through evidence based, compassionate care. I believe that psychology can be a bridge to connect people and help them understand that there are tools they can lean on when hope feels lost. Today, I’m a mother of two wonderful children, working full-time while pursuing my degree in psychology. Balancing family, work, and school isn’t easy, but it has strengthened my time management skills, empathy, and determination. Every late night of studying and every early morning shift reminds me why I’m doing this. I'm doing this to create a better life for my children and to set an example that perseverance pays off. I want my kids to see that no matter how many times life knocks you down, you can always get back up. My experiences have given me a deep understanding of the challenges that come with balancing family, health, career goals, and personal growth. That perspective will guide my future work in psychology, where I hope to help families navigate stress, trauma, and mental health challenges with compassion and practical support. What sets me apart is not just my determination to earn a degree, but the lived experience that fuels it. I don’t approach my education as a requirement to check off. I see it as a calling. I know firsthand what it means to struggle, to question your worth, and to rebuild yourself from the ground up; physically and mentally. Those experiences have made me more patient, understanding, and grateful. Receiving this scholarship would not only relieve the financial burden that comes with providing for my family while continuing my education, it would also be a recognition of how far I’ve come. It would allow me to focus more fully on my studies, pursue internships or volunteer opportunities in the community, and move one step closer to my goal of helping others rebuild their lives, just as I have worked to rebuild mine. I believe that education, when coupled with compassion and resilience, has the power to change not only one life but the lives of countless others. This scholarship would give me the opportunity to continue turning my experiences into something meaningful and transform adversity into advocacy, pain into purpose, and challenges into the strength to help others overcome their own.