Ashley Monique Williams ’25
My collegiate journey began in 2003, fresh out of Joel Elias Spingarn Senior High School in Northeast Washington, DC. I enrolled at the University of Maryland Eastern Shore with big dreams and a bright future ahead. I thrived socially and performed well academically, but the reality of life soon began to weigh heavily. By age 25, I had lost both of my parents, and though I was raised by my loving grandparents, Hilda and Leonard Johnson, Jr., the emotional toll of those losses led me to pause my college journey and enter the workforce.
I began working with special needs children and young adults, and it was there I discovered my passion. That work led me to become a paraprofessional in our local school district—a path I walked with pride and purpose. But when the pandemic changed everything, I found myself questioning the future of my career in education. I often encouraged my students to finish school and pursue college, all while carrying the unspoken truth that I had not yet finished my own degree.
Everything changed when I read about the DC Futures scholarship, designed for Washington, DC residents like me—individuals who had started but not yet completed college. That article reignited a fire in me. In 2021, I enrolled at Trinity Washington University with a promise in my heart—one I had made on the deathbed of my grandmother: I will finish.
Returning to college as a professional learner was both rewarding and challenging. During my junior year, my grandfather—my best friend—was diagnosed with stage 4 prostate cancer. I considered stepping away to care for him, but he made me promise to continue. With his blessing and encouragement, I pushed forward with online courses, determined to keep that promise.
There were moments when I wanted to give up. But I was not alone. Ms. Vernae Taylor, my coach through DC Futures, was a steady source of encouragement and guidance. At Trinity, I found not just a school, but a village. Professors like Linita Shannon, Sekou Sankofa, and Chaz Muth challenged me, supported me, and helped me discover my voice. Classmates like Kia Ross uplifted me, spoke my name in rooms I hadn’t entered yet, and reminded me of my worth.
From the moment, I stepped onto Trinity’s campus, I felt at peace. I knew I had made the right decision. Trinity became a second home and a safe space to grow, lead, and heal.
Today, I walk across the stage as a First-Generation college graduate. Though my parents and grandparents are no longer here physically, I know they are watching from above. Their lessons, sacrifices, and unconditional love are woven into every part of this accomplishment. I carry them with me.
This degree is not just mine—it belongs to the community that raised me, the students I’ve served, and the village that surrounded me on 125 Michigan Avenue. I am proud. I am grateful. And above all, I am ready, graduate school her I come!
