On the one-year anniversary of Crystal's death, I reached one of the lowest points in my grief journey. I was diagnosed with delayed grief, and for the first time, the weight of everything we had experienced truly caught up with me.

Until then, I had spent my career as an educator and already held a master's degree in teaching. But somewhere along the way, I realized my calling had changed. I didn't just want to teach inside a classroom anymore. I wanted to help change the systems that impact families after tragedy. I wanted to advocate for accountability, improve policy, and ensure that every death investigation is conducted with professionalism, integrity, and compassion.

That realization led me to Tulane University, where I enrolled in both the Master of Social Work program and the Master of Disaster Resilience Leadership program. Looking back, I somehow managed to weave Crystal's story into nearly every paper I wrote. What began as an education became something much more—it became part of my healing.

The professors who challenged, encouraged, and believed in me forever changed the way I see myself and the impact one voice can have. They taught me that advocacy backed by knowledge can create meaningful change.

Receiving Tulane's Outstanding Student Achievement Award was one of the greatest honors of my life. But to me, this recognition has never been about grades or accolades.

It is for Crystal.

It represents every late night, every tear, every difficult conversation, every research paper, and every moment I questioned whether I could keep going.

Most importantly, it serves as a reminder that even on my worst days, this is where my standard is held—to seek truth, demand accountability, and use my education in service of others.

This award may have my name on it, but it will always belong to my sister.