One of the biggest hardships I have faced in my life began when I was nine years old, during the journey my mother, my younger brothers, and I took to come to the United States. We left our home because staying had become dangerous, and my mom made the difficult choice to flee. We crossed through Guatemala and Mexico, sometimes walking for long hours, sometimes hiding, and relying on the kindness of strangers. We lived in Mexico for two months before continuing north. As the oldest child, I walked the whole way while volunteers carried my younger brothers, and my mother tried her best to keep going even when exhaustion took over. Eventually, we turned ourselves in to the authorities and, thankfully, were allowed to enter the U.S. so we could reunite with my father. That experience taught me more about fear, strength, and endurance than any child should have to understand. It also taught me something deeper: that people often carry silent battles. When I entered school here, I didn’t know English and felt lost, out of place, and unsure of myself. I joined an English learning program where I was surrounded by kids from different parts of the world. Even though we didn’t share a language, we shared the same struggle. The teachers there didn’t make us feel like outsiders, they made us feel seen. Their patience and kindness gave me confidence at a time when I desperately needed it. This is part of the reason I want to become a teacher, especially a high school teacher. High school is the age when students often feel invisible, misunderstood, or overwhelmed. Many of them carry heavy experiences that no one knows about. I know what that feels like. I know what it’s like to push through hardship quietly, to pretend everything is fine while navigating challenges no one sees. And I also know what a difference it makes when just one adult notices, listens, or shows up consistently. The hardship of my immigration journey didn’t end when I arrived here. Being first-generation meant figuring everything out on my own, such as, school systems, financial aid, college. After graduating high school in 2019, I wanted to go straight into college, but financial barriers and the impact of COVID stopped me. For a while, I felt stuck and unsure if I would ever reach my goals. But I didn’t give up. I returned to school in 2022, earned my Early Education certificate, and am now close to finishing my associate degree. What drives me to become a high school teacher is the belief that students deserve someone who sees them, not just their grades, but their struggles, their potential, and their stories. Donovan Harpster believed in the quiet power of showing up, and I connect deeply with that. I want to be that steady presence for students who might feel alone, overwhelmed, or unheard. I want to help them see their own strength the way others once helped me see mine. The lessons I learned from my journey, from my teachers, from every setback and every restart have shaped the kind of teacher I want to be. I want to build a classroom where students feel safe, supported, and encouraged to grow. A place where they know someone is rooting for them, even on the days when they can’t root for themselves.

Even though I never met Malgorzata “Maggie” Kwiecien, I feel connected to her story because it reflects so much of what I have lived through and what I continue striving for. Maggie moved to the United States alone, with no support system, and rebuilt her life with determination, courage, and ambition. While my journey began when I was a child and not on my own, I also came to the United States without stability, familiarity, or certainty. Like Maggie, I had to learn how to start over in a new country and build a future from the ground up. When my mother brought me and my younger brothers to the U.S., we arrived with nothing but the hope that life here would be safer. Our journey was difficult: starting from El Salvador, crossing through Guatemala and Mexico, walking long distances, relying on the kindness of strangers, and finally turning ourselves in to the authorities because we were too exhausted to continue. That experience taught me something Maggie also seemed to embody: that bravery doesn’t always look heroic. Sometimes it looks like putting one foot in front of the other, even when you’re terrified and unsure of what comes next. After we arrived in the United States, I entered school not knowing any English. I was placed in an English learning program with kids from all over the world, and while it was comforting to know I wasn’t alone, it was still intimidating. Learning a new language, adapting to a new culture, and trying to succeed academically felt like climbing a mountain. Maggie was a climber, someone who literally challenged mountains with her own strength. I didn’t climb physical mountains, but I climbed emotional and educational ones. The determination she showed in her physical pursuits mirrors the determination I have had to develop as I pushed through obstacles that could have easily discouraged me. Another way I feel connected to Maggie is through her love for learning and her devotion to becoming an expert in everything she set her mind to. Even though I am not in STEM, I have the same drive to continue growing academically. I didn’t always believe I would make it through college. In my family, education usually stopped after high school. When I graduated, I wanted to keep going, but financial challenges and the impact of COVID postponed my plans. Still, the desire to learn never left me. I returned to school in 2022, earned my Early Education certificate, and now I’m close to finishing my associate degree. My dream is to become an elementary school teacher, someone who supports children the way my teachers once supported me. That hunger for knowledge and self-improvement is something I share with Maggie. What also inspires me about Maggie is her boldness! Her willingness to face the world, challenge herself, and step into unfamiliar spaces with confidence. As a young immigrant woman navigating college, financial hardship, and cultural barriers, I have had to develop my own version of boldness. I’ve learned to advocate for myself, ask for help when I need it, and take on every opportunity that brings me closer to my goals. Like Maggie, I am determined to build a life of purpose and impact. Her story motivates me to keep pushing forward, even when the path is difficult. I carry the same ambition to succeed, the same appreciation for education, and the same courage to keep climbing, no matter how steep the climb may be.

Throughout my life, obstacles have appeared in many different forms: some physical, some emotional, and others tied to the expectations and limitations placed on my family. Each challenge has shaped me in a way that not only helped me grow stronger, but also made my career path clearer. Looking back, I can see that the moments that once felt overwhelming have become the very reasons I want to become an educator. One of the first major obstacles I faced happened when I was only nine years old. Because of the danger we were living in back home, my mother decided we had no choice but to leave. Our journey to the United States was long and difficult. We crossed through Guatemala and into Mexico, sometimes in cars, sometimes walking for hours, and sometimes hiding. As the oldest child, I had to walk the entire way while volunteers carried my younger brothers. My mother, exhausted and struggling, pushed through as much as she could. Eventually, with no strength left, we turned ourselves in to the authorities. Thankfully, they allowed us to enter the United States so we could reunite with my father in Massachusetts. That journey taught me resilience at an age when most children are still learning to read. Once here, another obstacle quickly showed up: language. I entered school not knowing a single word of English. I was placed into an English learning program with other children from different countries who were going through the same struggle. Even though we all came from different backgrounds, we shared the feeling of being lost in a new place. Learning English was not easy for me. I often felt frustrated, embarrassed, and unsure of myself. But my teachers never made me feel small. They encouraged me and celebrated each small improvement. Their patience and belief in me helped build my confidence at a time when I easily could have given up. This experience plays a huge role in my desire to become a teacher, especially for young children who need someone patient and supportive during their most important years. Another obstacle I faced was financial. In my family, graduating high school was usually the end of education, not the beginning. When I graduated in 2019, I wanted to go straight to college, but after COVID hit, it became impossible to afford. Being first-generation meant I didn’t have guidance or someone who could tell me how to navigate school, scholarships, or financial aid. For a while, I felt stuck. It seemed like my dreams were too expensive for someone like me. Still, I refused to let that be the end. In 2022, I returned to school and earned my Early Education certificate. Now, I’m close to finishing my associate degree. Balancing school, work, and family responsibilities hasn’t been easy, but every obstacle has taught me determination, problem-solving, and the importance of staying focused on what I want to achieve. These challenges have shaped my career choice in the most meaningful way. I want to be the kind of teacher who understands her students’ struggles, not just academically, but personally. I want to work with children who are learning English, adjusting to a new environment, or simply needing reassurance that they belong. My journey has taught me empathy, patience, and strength, and these are qualities I hope to bring into my future classroom. The obstacles I’ve faced haven’t pushed me away from my dreams but instead they’ve pushed me toward them. They’ve made me who I am, and they continue to motivate me to become the educator I once needed.

When I think back to being nine years old, I remember the fear, exhaustion, and uncertainty of leaving home, but I also remember the strength my mother carried even when she had nothing left. My mom, my two younger brothers, and I left because staying was no longer safe. We didn’t take a plane, we started in El Salvador then we crossed through Guatemala and eventually reached Mexico, where we stayed for two months before continuing our journey north. As the oldest, I walked the entire way, while kind volunteers carried my brothers. My mom tried to keep up, but after days of walking she was exhausted. With no energy left and nowhere else to go, we turned ourselves in to the authorities. Instead of sending us back, they allowed us to enter the United States so we could reunite with my father in Massachusetts. Starting school here was one of the hardest parts of adjusting. I entered an English learning program with other kids from all over the world who, just like me, were learning English from scratch. That classroom became a safe place for me. Even though we all spoke different languages, we understood each other because we were going through the same thing. The teachers in that program were patient, kind, and incredibly supportive. They didn’t just teach me a language: they made me feel confident and capable. Being part of that program is a big reason why I dream of becoming a teacher today. Growing up, I was always surrounded by children. Whether it was taking care of my baby cousins, helping with the little ones at church, or looking after my brothers, those responsibilities came naturally to me. I enjoyed teaching them small things, helping them with homework, or just being someone they could rely on. Over the years, that love for guiding and supporting children turned into a clear vision of the teacher I want to become: someone who cares deeply, who listens, and who understands what it feels like to be the kid who is starting over in a new place. Finishing high school in 2019 was already a big accomplishment for my family. Most of us never made it past that point. I wanted to keep going, but after COVID hit, I couldn’t continue school because I didn’t have the financial means. It felt like my dream had to be put on hold. Still, I wasn’t ready to let it go. In 2022, I returned to school, earned my Early Education certificate, and now I’m close to finishing my associate degree this spring. My goal is not only to become a first- or second-grade teacher, but also to one day work in or help build programs like the English learning program that supported me, programs like TAGT that help children who are learning a new language feel included and understood. I know what it feels like to sit in a classroom and not understand a single word, and I also know how powerful it is when a teacher believes in you anyway. Continuing toward my bachelor’s degree would mean breaking another barrier for myself and my family. This scholarship would help me take the next step toward becoming the educator I needed as a child, and the one I hope to be for future students who are beginning their own journeys in a new country