Discovering Miss America: My Mom and the magic of VHS

One of my earliest memories is sitting cross-legged on my grandparents’ living room floor, eyes glued to the TV, watching my mom. 

In the early 2000s, while she worked, my grandparents would pop in whatever VHS tape was handy. My grandparents are extremely proud of their two daughters, so more often than not, the VHS tape they would choose was a recording of either my mom dancing or my aunt singing. My favorite, the one I begged them to play almost every time, was a recording of my mom competing in Miss Arkansas 1992. I vividly remember her walking down a big set of stairs in white beaded gown and twirling her cape to thunderous applause when she tap danced to “William Tell Overture.” 

To my four-year-old self, she was Miss America. 

I may not have seen her perform on stage in real time, but I saw the way people looked at her in the grocery store when she flashed her Julia Roberts smile. I saw the way people naturally turned to her for answers, her confidence filling a room. She wasn’t just reacting to the world—she was shaping it.

When I started to grow up, I was always frustrated that I didn’t have those qualities. I never felt like I had any of the right answers, and I was too shy to even give them if I did have them! I didn’t glide into a room. I looked at the floor when I walked. 

I told her one day, “Mom, I want to be like you. I’m not exactly sure what you do or how you do it, but you’re magic.” She laughed (which, to be honest, miffed me a little). Stroking my hair, she said, “I learned it, honey. And so can you.”

When I started learning about the Miss America Organization, I realized a couple of key things:

1. My mom was not actually Miss America in the ’90s, despite what I had confidently told my elementary school friends (oops).
2. However, competing in the Miss America Organization allowed her to earn over $44,000 in scholarships, covering both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in education and making her the most educated person in my family. 
3. That kind of “magic” takes a whole lot of hard work.

Miss America is the nation’s largest provider of scholarships for young women—a mission that dates back to the 1940s, when Lenora Slaughter became the first woman to direct the pageant. She saw Miss America as more than just a crown; it was a launching pad for women’s education, a way to open doors that had been closed to them for generations.

Today, competitors are judged in five categories:

• Private Interview – a deep dive into our personal service initiatives, current events, and future ambitions.
• Talent – a chance to showcase a skill we’ve honed for years.
• Evening Gown – not just about the dress, but about grace and presence.
• Health & Fitness – previously swimsuit, now an activewear segment in partnership with the American Heart Association.
• On-Stage Question – answering tough questions under pressure in front of a live audience.

It was one thing to watch my mom on a VHS tape. It was another to step onto the stage myself.

Chasing Dreams (and Scholarships)

It sounds nerdy, but I always knew I wanted to be in school forever. My first dream was to be a librarian—not because of a deep love for cataloging books, but because I thought it meant I could read Percy Jackson all day without getting in trouble like I did in math class.

In high school, my focus shifted. I became interested in policy—how it shaped people’s lives, especially in rural Arkansas. My grandparents had to drive two hours just to see a doctor. I saw classmates struggle with financial insecurity. I started asking questions about the world around me, and the answers often frustrated me.

College was my chance to learn more, to figure out how I could help fix these problems. But when I started looking at tuition costs, I realized something: without scholarships, this dream wasn’t feasible for my family. Like so many others, the 2008 recession had changed our financial reality.

Miss America became my path forward—the key to unlocking both of my biggest goals:

1. A debt-free education.
2. A little bit of that magic I had admired in my mom.

Becoming Someone New

Competing in Miss Arkansas wasn’t just about winning life-changing scholarships–it transformed me.

Over the past eight years, I’ve grown into someone my younger self wouldn’t even recognize. I went from avoiding eye contact in a room to running a nonprofit.

Through the Miss America Organization, I founded Unite to Fight Poverty, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit tackling poverty in eight states across the country. The skills I needed to lead it—fundraising, relationship-building, public speaking—were all sharpened through my years in competition. When I stand on stage for an interview or an on-stage question, I draw from thousands of hours of practice, speeches, and appearances.

It’s funny—when I first stepped on stage, I thought I was learning how to compete. In reality, I was learning how to lead.

I don’t know if my four-year-old self would recognize me today. I don’t know if I glide into a room, but I definitely don’t stare at the floor anymore. I don’t always have the right answers, but I have the confidence to communicate and the experience to back it up.

More than anything, I think my younger self would be proud.

When I was nine, I wrote a list of my hopes and dreams and framed it. At the top, in my loopy kid handwriting, I wrote: “Get a college degree and the degree that comes after that for free like Mommy.”

That dream came true. I graduated debt-free, and I’m now pursuing a career that not only gives me financial freedom but allows me to create real change in the world.

That kind of economic security—access to education, to opportunity—is something I never thought I’d have. It’s something thousands of young women still don’t have. But thanks to Miss America, it’s something I can now help others find.

And that? That’s real magic.

---

---