They say a girls first love is their father and I can't say I disagree. For me it was Eddy, my uncle/Godfather, he was the male figure in the house, and the one I thought was my father. Until I was old enough to process, that my mother's brother couldn't be my dad. That didn't change how much I loved him vice versa. I really believed I was the princess in that castle, if he was kings, and I would do anything to keep that space. Although my uncle was a heavy drinker and smoker, as a child I didn't understand clearly the danger in that. I knew he stayed out late and would come home late, and I always made sure that I let him in. I knew he would go missing sometimes, but he always came back, eventually, with gifts, a big smile on his face, it was all good. Fast forward to 11-year-old me, right before my mom, sister and I migrate to the US, from Haiti; He meets someone, I don't approve, because " she was taking him away''. But deep down in my heart I believed that one day I would be getting married, and he would have to come to the states to marry me off and I would forbid him from going. The plan was perfect. Until Oct 2017. We get a call that he was found, on his usual drunk spot, downtown Haiti, unconscious - likely alcohol poisoning. Though rushed to the hospital when found, death won. Somedays, I like to pretend that he's not here, as in he's in Haiti and I am in the states- diff locations - but alive. Other days, I mourn at the idea of the wedding that I planned in my head all those many years, that I no longer want, because what's a wedding without him walking me down the aisle, smiling at me proud. From time to time, I wake up in sweat, uncontrollably crying because, "evil" took him away. But as an adult, understanding how alcohol works, I am accepting the elephant in the room. Till this day, I don't smoke or drink, I can't even stand the smell on other people. I try not to judge but it's hard not to connect those things with him being taken away from me, multiple times and now forever. While I know nothing will bring him back, and each milestone will always feel like it's missing a piece of joy, I owe it to myself to live the legacy, knowing he would have done anything he could to see me succeed, go after my dreams and build a healthy family. My influence changes, often. Most times, they are a black woman diaspora, doing their thing, against all odds. Currently, I am being influenced deeply by my therapist, she's a black woman who seems to have experienced a lot of lost, heartaches and pain who manages to be successful and fabulous. She owns her own practice, has an amazing repertoire and a great deal of body of work in her community. It's awe aspiring. She has been a healing outlet for me: as she encourages me to self-care, be bold, advocate for myself, believe in myself, believe in my ability to do great things. She has been helping shift my thinking, practice letting go of things I can't control and moving forward in doing the things I can. I have been a journaling for years; it helps me breath and also, I pray a lot.

I was adopted at 9 months, and it was about 11 years old when I learned this. The story is that my biological mother passed away, and my biological father wasn't able to take care of me, so he gave me away. For years, I felt a little guilty and always wondered about my family. Fast forward to January 12, 2010, a massive earthquake devastated Haiti, my home country. All of a sudden, although most of the people I had loved and associated with were in the state, I developed an urgent need to find my dad. I did, and the relationship had been rocky for a long time, because as I learned about his situation, it felt like I now had a burden of responsibility to help support him, his wife, and two half-siblings who were younger than me. I wasn't in any shape or form to do that then. Fast forward to about 2 years ago, having moved and finding myself, I have had the small ability to help here and there, and I am grateful. But you know what keeps me up at night? Knowing I have 2 younger sisters out there in a situation that doesn't seem to be getting better. And each time that thought comes to mind, it leaves me with a slight guilt, that I got to escape, and they may never do. So what if I am the answer? Due to my immigration status, I am not qualified for financial aid, so I have not been able to attend college for all these years. At 36, I'm trying again with big dreams and responsibilities. Something about knowing that there are others whose future might be depending on your success seems like a daunting task that I can't fail. What are the odds that I have an open door? So scholarships like these make that open door even easier. It's always been my heart to help people, but sometimes we have to start at home, and if all I do is allowing my adoptive mother the honor to see me make it, the peace for my father knowing he didnt make a mistake and the ability not just to inspire my baby-sisters, but to be the guide them and to help them escape too, I would have done well. Although that is not my final stop. But we have to start somewhere. And when you are a giver, sometimes knowing that there are others depending on you, it helps you push past yourself and keep going. I hope to be able to continue my education without having to worry about how I will fund it.

About two years ago, my health forced me to walk away from jobs I thought I'd still be in, climbing the ladder. You see, ever since I was a teen, I have always had a heart to help people. I didn't quite know what that would have looked like, but seeing people suffer was always a burden of mine, and it still is. I remember hating the commercials that raised funds for children in Africa, because those always made me cry. They were oh so sad. I've always felt like my value was in how well I served others, how much I could do for others, and how much I could give. Until about 2 years ago. About my early 20s, when I was pursuing college again for the 2nd time, I enrolled to become a social worker. Beforehand, I flirted with the idea of being a lawyer because I wanted to advocate for people and help them find justice, etc, until I was told that lawyers and justice weren't about truth but about the art of conviction and maybe a little bit of manipulation of jurors. That didn't sit well with me. But I was also ill-educated about all the different types of lawyers there are and the process of becoming a lawyer. I also thought about going to psychology, because I am very intrigued with the mind, understanding why we think the way we think and do the things we do. But mostly because I was the person friends and family could come to for advice and to be a sounding board. Never considered that could have been a spiritual gift of wisdom, not a calling into psychology. The older I get, the more I am grateful that I never went that route. I'm such an empath, and so sensitive, I've learn that I internalize things and those things show up in my body as ailments, stress, and insomnia. Over time I'd learn to try to detox, via journey, going to the park, sitting next to a body of water. Fast forward to that famous two years ago, post-therapy, where I was diagnosed with everyday anxiety and circumstantial depression. The fix; self-care. I thought my then therapist was playing me. Until I tried it. It then occurred to me that I had a way of being self-sacrificial because I put my value and identity in that. And my new goal was to put myself first, not from a selfish path, but from [the healthier I am, the better I can serve others well]. Which now means I have to learn to say no, learn to walk away, and learn to prioritize my health in every way. Life didn't waste any time testing my new belief, because my health was going down fast from a long-time issue that had just been diagnosed, where I had to take matters into my own hands, coming close to dying, living alone, I had no choice. So, I said no to opportunities, walked away from other opportunities that I meant to stay in, and started drastically protecting my peace. I regulate who I talk to, places I go, and conversations I have, People who have access to me, the type of jobs I apply for, etc. That also is what forced me to change my diet and led me to the job I now have, which opened up the door to my now pursuing of public health. Another attempt to help people, but through leadership, where I get to influence how well we serve.

If I am being honest, for a really long time, I had beef with the medical field. Let me explain. I am Haitian, and when I was growing up, it was my understanding that the only acceptable career paths were nursing, doctors, engineers, lawyers, and maybe a pastor. I wasn't interested in any of those things. When it was finally time to pursue higher education, I was considering a social worker because I knew I wanted to help people. Yes, I know the medical field helps people, too, but hear me out. Very early in my teenage years, I experienced an issue with my menstrual cycle. As a black woman in America, there was not much help but a push of heavy meds that felt like my health was struggling for years to come, and I blame the whole medical field for it. Two years ago, I finally met a brown woman pcp who listened to me and was able to successfully get me set for the right blood test where they found out my symptoms were accurate with PCOS. I immediately started doing research and found out that the nutritionists and dietitians were the ones with the solutions, so after a lot of research, I changed my diet and immediately started experiencing results. Let's keep in mind that year, I walked away from two jobs because my health was deteriorating that badly. After the inflammation, fatigue, and prediabetic symptoms took over my body. Because I've always wanted to pursue a career and never had the opportunity before, I was determined to consider pursuing a degree in nutrition to become a dietitian and help people. I enrolled and found myself a job at a hospital in food service and nutrition, and there I realized I didn't want to do clinicals and I wanted to continue working with kids. So, I did what I knew to do, I prayed. After research, I learned the different type of jobs that makes up the medical field. All medical personnel are not just nurses and doctors. So, when I came across public health, a path that would still allow me to cover social service, food and nutrition, hospital management, and more, I knew that was the one for me. How did I get here? Welp, the world may never know, but I am glad about it. I wish I knew then what I know now. But I'm glad I know now that there's more out there. More like scholarship opportunities like these that give a confused little girl a chance to get into the very industry that she has beef with and hope to make a difference. I know I am called to lead, shift the system, and atmosphere. I pray to lead in such a way that encourages care for our patients, integrity in our work, and leaving people feeling confident in the way we show up for them.

I am adopted and I didn't find out about it until I was about 12 years old. When I approached, the amazing woman who took me in, whom I call mom, and has raised me since I was 9months old, I was inquiring who my father was. Being the fact that I was new to the states, learning a new culture with new people, I was adjusting; Finding out that not only was I adopted, but my biological mother passed away when I was an infant. My biological father couldn't take care of me, so he gave me away. At 12, you can imagine the devastation I felt hearing that story. That didn't translate well to me at all. All my brain heard was [orphan, unloved, and alone.] It let a darkness creep through me when I had thoughts that were not of wanting to be in this world, no longer. I even attempted 2x. Neither time was successful. So, I struggled for years with confidence and feeling accepted and belonging. Although I eventually made friends and such, there was always this doom feeling deep down within. Being raised in a culture where education is very important, and after high school seeking that opportunity to do the normal thing to be part of society, just to learn that the lack of status couldn't allow that, didn't help at all. At one point I just felt like God didn't love me or wanted good for me.. For years on end, no matter what I accomplished in other areas, it felt like a dark shadow following me and reminding me that I was forever stuck in low-paying jobs. Now as an adult, who've shared my story, gone through therapy, who've met my father and not just understand and appreciate what he did for me, I am grateful to not have given up. So far, I've left what used to be my home state and experienced so much turmoil and survived them through faith, resiliency, and moving forward in hopes of better, I'm giving it another shot. But knowing that I have younger siblings looking to me, still to a poor dad, 1st time generation future grad, I have to keep trying. I have to keep moving forward. It may take me forever to finish because I'll be paying out of pocket, but one thing that has kept me hopeful is knowing that as long as I am alive, the time will pass, and the money will be spent. I might as well pass it, making steps towards that degree I've always wanted, and spend my money investing in something that actually matters to me. Something that will last and no one can take away from me. Scholarships like these decrease the weight of the burdens and are so encouraging. Knowing that I don't actually have to do it entirely alone is a breath of fresh air.

To be honest, As a late millennial, I feel like mental health is still taboo. Although we are the generation that seems to have made going to therapy cool, I'm not sure that we fully understand the importance of recognizing it amongst our peers, friends, family, and loved ones. I've always been intrigued by the mind and the whys we do what we do and even considered a degree in psychiatry, but I learned early as "the strong friend" who everyone came to for advice that I internalized others' pain and that often weighted me and left me feeling helpless. As someone who attempted suicide 2x as a teen and survived, my heart often goes to people who struggle with the thoughts. I also always wish there was a way I could hug the person whose life was taken by it. And other times, I wondered if there was ever a real way to help. While I am no longer pursuing psychiatry as a career path, I want to be an ally and work with industries that give the attention and need to individuals experiencing heartbreaking turmoil. While I no longer struggle with these thoughts, I can remember feeling lonely, unloved, rejected, and wanting to reject the idea of the faith I was raised in about God's existence and his love for me. Every time I think about it now, I feel fortunate that I got the opportunity to live past that moment. But sometimes guilty that others didn't. That continues to shape the way I live, treat people, and the efforts I put into my work. I currently work at a children's hospital for food service, and every day, we come across cases that we have to be sure we do our due diligence in how we serve them. We do have an inpatient psych floor, and working with them always breaks my heart and has me searching for answers. Like what is it in a child's brain that causes that? What was it in my brain at 12 that made me believe that suicide was the only answer? I don't think I had ever known anyone who experienced that or heard stories. And added the guilt about ''not going to heaven,'' so I thought the religious folks said; then hurting my family and loved ones, and funeral expenses, then coming up with an execution plan, all made the burden of that desire heavier. To this day, as an adult, I try to figure out where it started. What did I need? Is there an answer, and if so, how do I share that answer with everyone so that maybe they, too, could be heard, felt, and understood? I'm not sure that I'll ever know. But what I do know is I have the desire to help people, and hope to be a small part of that help. However, that may look like.

Growing up in Haiti we really thought coming to America was close to going to heaven. Nothing pepared us , though, for what it would look like experiencing culture shock , learning a new language, getting bullied for dressing different because a church mom thinks it's most appropraite that we go to school dress in church shoes and such. However with all of that, i'd like to believe I have got the best of both world. Thankfully as a church kid I was raised in a haitian church community that help shaped my resilience, skills set, love for service, cummunity outreach, public health and leadership. And that's been my hope in my future carreer. To lead with integrity, shift systems and help people. I started a non-profit called Ima's heart for a neighbor, named after my mom. And it was my hope that I would help people in need with housing and food insecurity and scholarships just like this one. That dream has yet to come to realization. My immediate plan? Help the people within my reach. At the moment my biological father, his wife, 2 little sisters and a brother are all still in Haiti, running from shelter to shelter due to socail unrest. And while I want to hope that life will get better , I am not for certain, and I feel like I am their only hope. It's imprtant to me that I suceed, not only will I be 1st generation college graduate on both side of my family, moving up the coorporate later will set the bar an be a testiment that hard work, resilience, dedication, can pay off. My hope post graduation: to have a wellpaying job that will futher allow me to help them , not just financially, but inspire my siblings and give them hope. Scholarships like this makes it easier, as I am not qualified for financial aide and do have to pay out of pocket. Thank you for honoring Marie Jean Baptist in that way, amongst most scholarships this one particularly will make a world of a different because it was created by us for us.