“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”- Psalm 147:3 In communities like the one I came from; silence has often been the reward for survival. Mental health is misunderstood, trauma is inherited, and healing has become a luxurious privilege that only a few can afford. As a first-generation Afro-Latina woman and a DACA recipient from Belize, I was raised to survive, not to feel. Mental health was not part of our everyday language; it was something whispered through prayer behind closed doors, never fully addressed, or explored. In my culture, in my faith upbringing, and in my role as the oldest daughter, I inherited the unspoken expectation to carry, to protect, and to endure. But not to pause. Not to ask for help. And certainly not to break. At the time, I did not understand that identity is shaped by layered realities, race, gender, immigration status, faith, and family dynamics. These categories do not just describe us, they assign roles. For me, I became the responsible one. The strong one. The overcomer. The one who is resilient not only to myself, but so others would not have to experience the challenges and barriers that I encountered. Over time, that role felt less like a calling and more like an endless emotional rollercoaster. Because when your performance measures your worth, the rest feels like you are rebelling to what is familiar. Asking for help feels like weakness. And being human feels like failure. That type of pressure did not nearly crush me—it completely broke me. I had moved to a new city, following what I believed was God’s plan for marriage and stability. I was in love, building a life with someone I imagined I would grow old with. But when that relationship ended, the life I had poured into came to a quick end. I was met with numerous hardships towards the end of that relationship: infidelity, abuse, financial insecurity and even housing displacement. I was left emotionally exhausted and spiritually hollow. I found myself alone in a city that no longer felt like home, questioning everything I thought I knew about God, purpose, and myself. It was in that very silence that God met me, not with condemnation—but with compassion. In that brokenness, He reminded me of His character. Not just as Provider, but as Healer. Not just as Lord, but as Counselor. I began to take therapy seriously, despite not knowing what healing would look like, but I was desperate enough to try. I returned to school to study psychology, realizing that the answers I had long searched for were not just for me, but for the communities I would one day serve and surround myself with mentors and spiritual leaders who walked with me through truth and grace. And slowly, I began to rebuild, not the life I had lost, but the one that God had been calling me to all along. Mental health, to me, is not separate from faith, it is an extension of it. Jesus does not rush healing. He paused. He noticed. He touched the untouchable and listened to the silence. He met people in their pain before calling them into wholeness. That is the kind of therapist I aspire to be. Someone who holds space for others, sees beyond symptoms, and invites people to heal without shame. I am currently pursuing my undergraduate degree in psychology, with plans to earn a PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy. I want to specialize in generational trauma, family systems, and culturally competent care. My focus is on multicultural families, children with special needs, and those who have been told that their pain is a spiritual failure rather than a cry for help. I have seen firsthand how untreated trauma erodes faith, connection, and hope. I believe mental health care should not only be accessible, but it should also be infused with dignity and compassion. I also aspire to build a nonprofit organization that offers faith-based mental health care, mentorship, and trauma-informed resources to underserved communities. A place where people of all backgrounds can experience healing that honors their identity, not eradicating it. A place where people like me are not expected to be invincible but are reminded they are loved. Where wholeness matters more than perfection, and where healing is not contingent on economic status, immigration status, or religious background. As I work toward this dream, I am already laying the groundwork. I serve in my church’s youth and children’s ministry, where I create safe spaces for young people to express their emotions, ask challenging questions, and feel seen. I also work in healthcare administration, where I witness daily the gaps in our mental health systems and the disproportionate barriers faced by communities of color. I have developed practicum materials for psychology students, focusing on integrating spiritual sensitivity and cultural humility into clinical training. I’ve committed my time, education, and heart to connect faith and mental health between what is and what could be. Through this, mental health has reshaped every part of my life. I no longer measure myself by the roles I was handed, but by the truth God speaks over me. I have learned to grieve honestly, rest boldly, forgive deeply, and walk humbly. I have learned that healing is not linear by any means, but its progress, however, sometimes looks like simply staying present. And that is what I want to help others achieve. If awarded this scholarship, it would not just support my education, it would support the calling God has placed on my life to help people open so He can heal and transform their lives. The financial relief would allow me to dedicate more time to my academics, community outreach, and developing programs that reflect my values and purpose. But beyond finances, this scholarship also reaffirms the idea that mental health ministry matters, not only mine, but collectively the stories of others who will come to see themselves not through the lens of trauma or identity alone, but through who God says they are.

It has taken faith, resilience, and a deep desire to be obedient to the calling God has placed on my life to help others open emotionally so God can heal them. Growing up as a first-generation Latina student and DACA recipient, I have become intimately familiar with barriers that often make higher education feel like an out-of-reach, impossible dream. But I am here to tell you that these very challenges are what led me to a journey with Christ I never could imagine pursuing without Him. In that pursuit, I believe that God has led me to pursue psychology and prepare for a PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy. My walk with Christ has not always been linear, but it has always been sincere. I was born and raised a Christian, however, my relationship with him deepened a few years ago when things came around full circle. I had moved to a new city full of hope, actively building a life that I built in my own strength that led to marriage and a secure quiet life. Like many, this is a dream and nothing out of the ordinary. This is when I come to fully trust God and how he is knows best. What I did not realize at the time that it was God protecting me from destruction that I could not seem to see, it ended abruptly and painfully. I found myself emotionally, spiritually, and financially depleted. I had survived an abusive relationship that left me shaken and disoriented but not abandoned. In that heartbreak, I encountered the faithful love of God like I never have experienced before. Despite all these things happening all at once, I was still studying psychology but not truly walking in my divine purpose. Now, I am still working towards this degree however with the clarity, a calling, conviction, and most of all compassion that can only come from Christ. “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” (Proverbs 19:21, NIV). Today, I am still an undergraduate psychology student committed to obtaining a doctorate as a Christian marriage and family therapist. My goal is to help broken families heal, challenge generational cycles, and advocate for mental health services that reflect the cultural and spiritual needs of underserved communities. I believe therapy can coexist with faith, and that true healing includes both the mind and the soul. In addition to my studies, I am actively working to build a nonprofit that will provide scholarships, eventually housing, mental health services, and essential resources to individuals and families in need—regardless of their background or beliefs. Whether they know Jesus or not, a seed of faith is being planted through every act of service, every moment of compassion, and every conversation that reflects the love of Christ. Our lives are living testimonies, and I want mine to be a vessel in which others can encounter the presence of God’s goodness and love. This scholarship would be more that just financial support, it would be a blessing to continue walking the purpose that I have shared with you that God has entrusted me to carry through. Regardless of if received or not, I steward every opportunity with intention and gratitude. I am not seeking recognition—but I am pursuing purpose. With your support, I can continue to grow into the woman God has called me to be, not just for myself, but for every person He places in my path.

The first time I sat with a therapist, something felt like something was missing, and it was not the credentials that you would find in the office. It was the feeling seen and understood. As a first-generation college student, DACA recipient, and Afro-Latina who came from a low-income background, I knew my experiences would be reduced to journaling because of lack of representation. That moment did not fully discourage me, but it did ignite a passion within pursuing psychology. I realized that healing should not require you to translate your identity but incorporate it in your life. When it comes to mental health, it is not just a passion or a career I chose, it is my purpose. I know this because it is in me to help redefine how we see mental health collectively. I come from a community where silence is mistaken for strength and resilience hides decades of trauma. I have watched loved ones suffer quietly and accept the grievances of life as if they are the very burdens that deserve it. The absence of representation, access, knowledge, and advocacy in our mental health system does not just limit healing but also hope. I want to be the kind of psychologist that changes that narrative, by meeting people where they are, and reminding them they are seen and worth every second of life. Currently to make this happen, I am pursuing my degree in psychology at the University of Texas Permian Basin, with aspirations to earn a PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy. My academic journey has been full, but not easy. There are semesters where I wasn’t sure that I could afford tuition, nights I stayed up exhausted researching and finding ways to finance my education—not because I just wanted to be finished, but because I know the impact I will make on others once accomplished. All this work is being put in to represent and help every person who has ever been misdiagnosed, misunderstood, unsuccessful treatments, lack of cultural context and advocacy. I am doing this because I understand these struggles, I come from these struggles, but I can also display what it is like to overcome them as well. Currently, I volunteer at community wellness events, advocacy centers for women and children, homeless shelters, and youth groups with my church. My experiences and drive motivate me to start helping others regardless of whether I have my degree or not. I want underserved and multi-cultural families to learn from now that there are resources that can help them and there is healing in ways that do not feel like its betraying your culture but honoring it by empowering individuals. My goal is to open my own practice that does not just expand on personality subcultures, but also cultural humility and access. I want to partner with schools, churches, and nonprofits to reach those who have been overlooked and forgotten in the system as well. I am also currently navigating my own non-profit organization to help provide resources for undermined communities. This scholarship would not just fund my education, but also the mission that I am pursuing in psychology. A mission to make therapy accessible, inclusive, and safe. A mission to rewrite the narrative of what mental health professionals should look like as a woman and a woman of color. I am not the exception, but I am part of a rising generation that wants our dreams and stories to be told. And by doing so, by creating environments to do so.

There is a quiet tension surrounding being an immigrant student in America these days. As a first-generation Latina college student, the daughter of immigrants from Belize, and a DACA recipient, I am constantly reminded of the subtle and loud ways we exist to persevere in our academic journey. Pursuing an education under these circumstances feels like a constant cycle of taboo by constantly convincing generation after generation that you belong in spaces that were never designed for you, chasing a future that was designed to restrict your success if it didn’t already make you quit. For me, earning a degree is not only about building a career; it is a declaration that I belong here, and so do those who come after me. Being a first-generation student is seen as bold, inspiring, and resilient. What people do not know is lonely, discouraging, a constant roller-coaster of anxiety over finances, mental support, and even proper guidance. Despite these weighted challenges, I still have chosen and continue to choose to push forward, because my education is not just for me. It is for my family, my community, and for every undocumented student and non-traditional student who dares to believe their dreams are still valid. My academic journey is grounded in the belief that healing and understanding are tools of transformation and healthy change. As a psychology major with a minor in communications, my goal is to receive a doctorate in marriage and family psychology and work with underserved communities. I want to create a space where families can find support, where cultural stigmas around mental health are dismantled, and where people can begin to heal emotionally, setting a new precedent for future generations to come. By being DACA, first-generation, and a non-traditional student, I have had to advocate not only for myself but also for my family. These experiences taught me early that knowledge is not meant to be hoarded but is meant to be shared. Education becomes powerful when it turns into advocacy and uses that advocacy to truly make a transformative difference for everyone. When it comes to this scholarship, it would not simply ease the financial burden of my education; it would affirm my place in the world of academia. And it would be an investment in my dream of becoming a future psychologist who understands the intersections of faith, trauma, culture, and perseverance. It would also be the extension of allowing me to achieve my goals to also give back to a world where higher education can be accessible, inclusive, and generational in all demographics. We cannot afford to continue to let systemic barriers determine potential. When students like, me are empowered to succeed in all areas, it contributes to a better quality of life. Thank you for considering my story.

For as long as I can remember, I have believed that wellness is not just about physical health but also has to do with creating environments where people feel safe, nourished, and empowered. As a first-generation Afro-Latina college student, DACA recipient, and aspiring psychologist, I have learned to see community wellness through multifaceted lens. One that includes access to mental health, environmental dignity, and generational impact. In the next five years, I plan to use my education and lived experiences to create sustainable change through community wellness thought mental health services to serve rural communities. Currently, I am pursuing a degree in psychology with a minor in communications at the University of Texas Permian Basin. I am currently starting a nonprofit organization that will raise funding, awareness, and resources for essentials like food, housing referrals, mental health services, healthcare, and scholarships. To me, true wellness starts with safety and security in our lives. What I have learned in psychology when our basic needs are met, we are more likely to focus on goals and aspirations that can contribute to productive and positive societal ventures. However, when people do not have access to necessities or emotional support, their environment becomes a barrier to healing. My vision is to create healing-centered environments with educating me how to sustain mental wellness that nourish both body and mind. I plan to do this by partnering with local churches, shelters, and schools to offer culturally competent mental health workshops, emotional wellness programs, and wellness educations. As someone who has struggled with food insecurity, housing instability, and emotional trauma, I know that true wellness is not a luxury but more so a modern-day scarcity. Mental health and environmental sustainability are deeply connected. But when people are empowered to heal, they contribute to more compassionate, sustainable, and vibrant communities for generations to come. I also hope to expand these efforts globally to underserved regions like Central America and the Caribbean where mental health access is scarce and the stigma remains high. I dream of leading internation outreach initiatives that equip communities with wellness training, mobile health clinics, and educations materials that help dismantle cycles of trauma, poverty, and isolation. This work will not be easy, but it is personal. I have been the girl who did not know where she would sleep or whether she could finish school. I have worked long hours while studying full-time, relying on prayer, community support, and grit. That experience has instilled in me a deep sense of purpose and responsibility. I want to give others the kind of support I once needed. Through community-based wellness educations, inclusive programming, and services. I will create safe spaces where people can feel like they can breathe again, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Recie3iving the FLIK Hospitality Group Scholarship would allow me to scale this vision with intention and sustainability. FLIK’s commitment to racial equity, wellness, and leadership aligns perfectly with my mission and represents the true meaning of hospitality by cultivating a foundation based on compassion and creating an emotionally safe world-one community at a time.

As a first-generation Afro-Latina college student and DACA recipient, I know firsthand what it means to carry the weight of survival while daring to pursue healing, stability, and purpose. I am currently pursuing my undergraduate degree in Psychology with a minor in communications at the University of Texas Permian Basin. My goal is to become a licensed marriage and family therapist, using my career not just to treat, but to restore by building bridges of access, dignity, and hope for those too often overlooked in conversations about mental health. I was drawn to the field of psychology not just because of academic curiosity, but because of lived experiences. Growing up in a marginalized community, I witnessed how trauma, especially generational and systemic, can silence voices. For years, mental health was treated as a taboo, even among those who desperately needed it. Navigating immigration challenges, financial instability, and spiritual disconnection in my own life showed me that healing cannot be a privilege for the few, it must be the right for everyone. This understanding helped shape my activism and vocation direction. I currently volunteer with my church youth programs, the Dallas Advocacy Center for Children, and First Baptist Homeless Shelter. These spaces have opened my eyes to how mental wellness, especially among BIPOC and undocumented communities, often start with presence of how someone sees you, hears, you and believes that you are worth healing. I want to be that person professional and faithfully. My long-term vision is to open a nonprofit mental health organization that provides culturally competent counseling, spiritual support, and basic resources such as food, housing, referrals, and scholarship assistance. Healing requires more than talk therapy- it demands holistic care and community investment. Eventually, I want to train future counselors and equip churches and shelters with mental health tools to reduce stigma and create safe spaces. As someone who wrestles with anxiety, ADHD, and depression, faith deconstruction, and isolation, I understand the weight of vulnerability. That is why I am enthusiastic about making healing visible and available, especially to those who have been silenced by shame, race, status, or circumstance. My story may not be traditional, but it is marked by perseverance, empathy, and a relentless pursuit of purpose. If given the opportunity to receive the Arthena V. Bishop Memorial scholarship would be more than just financial support, it would be a seed sown into a lifelong mission. Artnetha’s commitment to mental health accessibility mirrors my own, and I would be honored to carry that legacy forward by giving to one life, one family, one generation at a time.

I wish I could say there was just one moment in my life where I questioned if my dreams were allowed. However, as a first-generation student and DACA recipient, that is a question I constantly face. Most of my life, I have adhered to and navigated a system that ideally did not have me or others like me in mind. Financial barriers, legal limitations, and the weight of circumstantial hardships. But instead of giving up, I became more driven to keep going and finish. It is not just about my dreams, but what I represent within my community and the stories that never got a chance to make it. Throughout my life, I can honestly say it has given me every reason to select survival over service. However, because I believe that I am meant to be a Marriage and Family Psychologist learned firsthand experiences that impact people and often go overlooked. My dream isn’t just to pursue and complete my academic achievements, but to give back by focusing on the underserved populations, especially those who have been silenced and wounded by life. Although my major isn’t criminal justice, my heart beats for justice, for change, for protection, and healing. Apart from school and work, I also volunteer at my local church, the Dallas Advocacy Center for Children, and First Baptist homeless shelter. Being active in these entities isn’t to pursue a title but more so to demonstrate and learn what true leadership comes from. I show this by demonstrating integrity and showing up in marginalized communities, advocating, creating a safe space for others, and creating resources for others to achieve their goals. I lead by being present and learning new ways I can improve. I strive to make others feel seen, reach their potential, and help create access to overcome barriers and systems that make others feel that they are incapable of greatness. I not only resonate with those in the community, but I understand them because I am an extension of that environment. And because of that, I am currently working toward establishing my nonprofit to provide scholarships and resources for struggling families and alternative students. Jimmy Cardenas’ legacy is one of resilience and protection. While I may be pursuing another field, I carry that same spirit in the work I do and the goals I set out to accomplish. I am committed to protecting the mental health, emotional, and spiritual well-being of my community, not just by providing safe environments, but also by creating a healthy, safe environment. I don’t just want to succeed; I want to bring others with me. Thank you for your consideration and time for this scholarship.

Ever since I was a young girl, I believed education could change the trajectory of life, not just mine, but generations after me. As a first-generation college student from a family that migrated from Belize. As you can imagine, like many immigrants' back stories, I have had my fair share of challenges. However, that never stopped receiving DACA at the age of 22, like many of my peers, I should be wrapping up my undergrads. As for me, the doors of opportunity were beginning to open. For so long, I watched dreams feel out of reach, not lack ambition, but because of limitations that had nothing to do with my work ethic or willingness. Yet, challenges still surfaced- balancing full-time work and school hasn’t been easy and often caused more setbacks because of financial prioritization; nevertheless, it’s a childhood dream I will never let go of. I currently attend The University of Texas Permian Basin; I am still working to complete my undergraduate degree in psychology. My goal is to continue into graduate school and earn a Ph.D. in Marriage and Family Therapy. I aspire to become a licensed therapist who can serve communities, especially low-income ones, where therapy is often stigmatized or inaccessible. Growing up in a culture where emotional pain was rarely addressed, I have witnessed the impact of unspoken trauma. That’s why I am passionate about creating safe, faith-informed spaces where healing can happen without shame. My dream is not only to be a therapist, but to become an advocate, educator, and leader in the mental health field. I envision founding a nonprofit that provides scholarships, community resources, and mental health education for individuals who face systemic and financial barriers. It would be especially geared toward first-generation students, survivors of trauma, and anyone who needs someone to believe in their potential. I have already begun to live this mission by volunteering in my community. I support church youth programs where I mentor teens navigating identity, family conflict, and faith. At the Dallas Advocacy Center for Children, I offer help to children and families who have experienced abuse, neglect, or displacement. At the First Baptist Homeless Shelter, I serve meals and encourage those going through some of life’s hardest moments. These opportunities have taught me that healing doesn’t always start in an office- it starts with presence, compassion, and listening. To me, making an impact is not just about personal success, it is about creating pathways for others to rise. Whether through counseling, advocacy, or simply being a voice for someone in crisis, I want to reflect Christ-like service in all that I do. I believe in restoration, and I believe in using every experience, good or painful, to build something meaningful for others. This scholarship would ease the financial weight I carry as I work, study, and serve. But more than that, it would affirm that my journey matters, that the obstacle I have overcome was an opportunity to make a difference. Thank you for considering my story and for supporting students who are determined to turn adversity into purpose.

I didn’t grow up seeing many people who looked like me or shared my story, but I knew I wanted to be someone who made others feel seen, safe, and whole. That desire has guided every step of my journey into the field of mental health care. I am currently pursuing a degree in psychology with plans of obtaining a Ph.D. in marriage and family therapy, serving individuals and families, especially those from underserved backgrounds. My decision was not just career-driven; it was personal, born from my journey through trauma, displacement, and the ongoing fight to access quality care as an undocumented, first-generation student. Mental health remains one of the most overlooked components of healthcare, especially in communities like the one I come from, where therapy is rarely discussed, let alone pursued. For too long, the healthcare system has treated mental wellness as optional, when in reality it is just as essential as physical care. Our thoughts, emotions, and coping strategies shape how we experience the world and interact with others. Psychology and therapy offer that support, and when destigmatized, they can truly be transformative. By helping people understand themselves and what they need to feel well-balanced and whole, we don’t just treat symptoms, we unlock potential. There are so many talented, skillful individuals who, with the right support, could go on to change their communities in powerful ways. I want to be a part of the change. I want to walk with people as they discover healing, purpose, and the freedom to pursue their dreams. My goal is to one day open a nonprofit mental health center that offers accessible, culturally competent care to low-income families, both in the U.S. and internationally. This center will offer therapy, support groups, and faith-integrated services, especially for those navigating trauma, cultural identity, and life transitions. I also hope to provide mentorship and scholarship opportunities for future mental health professionals, especially first-generation students who may not see a path forward without support. Though I never had the honor of knowing Dr. Michael Paglia, I am inspired by the legacy he left behind, a legacy that displays compassion, excellence, generosity, and humility. His commitment to uplifting others mirrors the kind of impact I hope to make in this field. Receiving this scholarship would help ease the financial burden of my education and give me the chance to carry his mission forward: by making healing more accessible, investing in others, and creating a healthcare future where mental health is not an afterthought, but a pillar of wellness.

The American Dream has long been marketed as wealth, success, and upward mobility, but for me, it has transformed into something deeper and more vital. The American Dream I am after is freedom- freedom to live without fear, to pursue education without delay, to be mentally whole, spiritually grounded, financially stable, and overall, a good neighbor to everyone I connect with. This journey began well before I graduated high school at 17, with a deep desire and determination to one day become a doctor. But I quickly encountered the barriers that made that dream feel out of reach. It wasn’t until I was 22, when President Obama introduced the Dream Act, that is when I saw and felt a glimmer of hope. I am now 34 and still pursuing my undergraduate degree and hoping to complete a PhD in the future, I desire to fulfill the dream that I have carried all these years. I share this timeline not only to honor how that historic decision shifted the course of my life, but also to highlight the ongoing reality that many undocumented students still face: that our dreams take longer, cost more, and demand more, but we are still here, still striving. I was born into a family that sought more than opportunity in coming to the United States- they sought refuge, purpose, and the hope of building something enduring. My upbringing was shaped by the quiet resilience of a single mother who, despite the weight of displacement of being a widow, modeled a life of integrity and perseverance. From an early age, I understood that dignity was not conferred by legal status, nor was access to opportunity equally distributed. My presence in classrooms did not guarantee the same future promised to my peers, but still, I showed up for myself and my dreams. I studied diligently, I served my community, and I held onto kindness and patience as my compass in this race. My education has been hard-won, contested through financial hardship, emotional fatigue, and structural exclusion- but never forsaken. Amid this long journey, service has become my anchor. I have had the honor of investing in my community through food drives, youth mentorship at my church, and quiet support by feeding and engaging with families at advocacy centers. These acts were never just about volunteering; they were about rooting within a truth larger than myself. I realized quickly in these moments that even my path felt fragile; I could still offer stability, encouragement, and presence to others. Giving back isn’t something I simply do; it is my refuge and the framework of who I am. In this light, the American Dream is not a destination marked by status or possessions, it is a lived philosophy rooted in resilience, healing, and contribution. It is the right to become, to belong, and to transform suffering into service. I am currently studying psychology with a long-term goal of becoming a licensed marriage and family therapist. My vision extends beyond licensure; I hope to found a nonprofit dedicated to providing accessible, culturally attuned mental health care to low-income and immigrant communities. Individuals and families like mine have endured much, yet deserve restoration, safety, and hope. To be considered for this scholarship would not only alleviate the weight I carry as a non-citizen student, but it would also affirm the truth that I have held for years: that persistence matters. Those delays are not dreams denied. And those of us who endure still have something meaningful to offer this country we call home.

I didn’t always know psychology would be my path; I just knew from a young age that I wanted to help people access healthier lifestyles. As a first-generation college student and the child of immigrants, I grew up translating more than just language between the intersection of two worlds, cultures, and customs. I learned to recognize how emotions, silence, and suffering showed up differently depending on context, and that emotional wellness often lacked vocabulary in our home. This unique ability to navigate and understand emotional dynamics helped me realize I could be an asset in this field, especially as someone representing communities that are often overlooked and underestimated. After enduring childhood challenges due to poverty, losing a parent, and constant immigration struggles, I carried those silent battles into adulthood. In the past three years, I walked away from an abusive relationship and experienced temporary homelessness. I can now say it was the best decision I ever made for my mental health and safety, even though it was taking a risk in leaving everything behind. Even then, I never gave up on my dream or my education, although my path has taken longer than my peers and friends'. I know with certainty that I am pursuing something that matters and will make a difference in the lives of others. I remind myself that everything stacked against me is not a coincidence, but evident that I am meant to bring healing where it hasn’t been reached yet. I believe in walking with others through their pain, in helping them see their strength and resilience, and in showing them they were never broken, but brave. This deep conviction is what fuels me to keep going, even when it’s hard. Today, I am pursuing my degree in psychology with a minor in communications. I hope to become a licensed marriage and family therapist with a focus on trauma-informed care. But my goals go beyond the therapy room. I plan to one day also start my nonprofit that offers accessible mental health care to low-income individuals both in the U.S. and internationally. There is so much to learn from different cultural systems and dynamics, but also no one should ever be restricted from the right to feel well-mentally, emotionally, or physically. I also hope that this nonprofit can continue to support future generations of therapists by offering scholarships and grants to serve and expand this field with continuous empathy, excellence, and heart. Mental health is not just my area of study; it is my living reality. I volunteer with at-risk youth, led support groups at church, and stood beside family, friends, and acquaintances during their hardest moments. Not out of obligation but of deep understanding. I believe emotional wellness should be a basic right, not a privilege, and I am committed to making that belief a reality for as many people as I can. Receiving the Ethan to Mental Health Awareness Scholarship would not only help lift the financial weight of undergrads but, also honor the story that brought me here. A story that is filled with endurance, grace, and unwavering hope.

Healing, Hearing, and Honoring the Journey For me, learning has always been more than just scholastics; it has become my lifeline. I realized this one late at night as I balanced a psychology textbook on my lap by the dim dome light in my car, parked behind a coffee shop. At the time, I was a psychology major with a communications minor at the University of Texas Permian Basin, determined to keep up with my classes despite having no home. I was temporarily homeless after escaping an abusive situation, but I refused to put my education on hold. Even then, I spent my days in public libraries and coffee shops, finishing assignments and devouring books. Studying gave me a sense of stability amid chaos. Each concept I learned—whether about psychological resilience or the power of communication—felt like a step toward reclaiming control of my life. My outlook shifted from seeing myself as a victim of circumstances to seeing myself as a student of life. Through knowledge, I discovered I could shape my own future rather than be defined by my past. With a stable job and housing eventually secured, I looked for ways to give back and keep growing. I began volunteering at a local homeless shelter and in the children’s wing of a hospital. In those places, I met people confronting challenges as daunting as my own had been. Listening to their fears and hopes taught me more about resilience and compassion than any textbook ever could. These encounters also sparked my curiosity about the psychology of trauma and recovery, pushing me to learn as much as I could to help others more effectively. My volunteer work later extended to the Dallas Children’s Advocacy Center and my church’s youth group, where I work with children and teens who have endured abuse or hardship. Many of the young people have felt as voiceless as I once did. By listening to them without judgment, I have seen them begin to reclaim their courage and self-worth. My communications studies help me practice empathetic, culturally sensitive listening, while my psychology background offers insight into the healing process. Every child I mentor and every story I hear reinforces my belief that true healing transcends any single belief system; it is a human journey of finding hope and wholeness. All these lessons—inside and outside the classroom—have shaped my growth and my vision for the future. My love of learning has evolved into a mission. I plan to pursue a Ph.D. in marriage and family therapy so I can guide others along their healing journeys. I envision building a faith-integrated, culturally sensitive counseling practice that honors each person’s story while also applying the best of psychological science. In this space, people of all backgrounds will feel seen and respected.