2026 Forward Freethought scholarship winners
FFRF has awarded $30,000 in First in the Family Humanist Forward Freethought scholarships to six students, thanks to the generosity of FFRF benefactor Lance Bredvold. The students were selected by Black Skeptics Los Angeles (BSLA), an African American humanist/atheist-based organization.
BSLA is the first secular humanist/atheist organization to specifically address college pipelining for youth of color through its ongoing scholarship, college and K-12 youth leadership partnerships. FFRF has proudly partnered with BSLA for 13 years to provide tuition grants, gradually increasing the funding and number of scholarships.
The following are the 2026 First in the Family Forward Freethought scholarship winners and the college they are attending. Each of them was awarded $5,000.
Heather Buckner, University of California, Berkeley
Blessings Coly, University of North Carolina-A&T
Kaylla Da Costa, University of Massachusetts
Daniel Sierra, University of California, Berkeley
Mariah Slade, University of North Carolina-A&T
Kelan Speed, University of Texas-San Antonio
Here are excerpts from this year’s awardees’ essays.
Heather Buckner
I identify as secular and as a freethinker because I believe morality is something we are responsible for practicing, not something we can outsource. To me, being secular does not mean being without values. It means choosing values deliberately: compassion, reason, fairness, curiosity, and responsibility to other people.
My deepest sense of purpose has always come from human effort. People solve problems. People build systems. People choose whether to include or exclude others. People decide whether a classroom, team or community becomes more humane. That is why secular humanism makes sense to me. It asks us to look honestly at the world, use evidence and empathy, and then do the work ourselves.
The humanist issue I care most about is who gets included in opportunity. I grew up as the only African American student in my elementary school, often told in small ways that I did not quite belong. My father passed away when I was young, and I was raised by my single mother. Those years taught me that belonging is not given evenly. Some kids walk into a room already certain they are welcome. Others spend years learning how to take up space.
It is easy to say every child has dignity and potential. It is harder to ask why so many children spend their childhoods being moved, doubted, or overlooked, and to do something about it. The kids I mentored were as smart as any students I have met. What they did not always have was someone who showed up, learned their names, and treated their questions as worth answering.
Humanism, for me, is that showing up. It is the belief that fairness is not an abstract value but a practice that has to happen on a Tuesday at four o’clock, every Tuesday, with whoever walks in the door.
Blessings Coly
My values are rooted in how I treat people. I believe that kindness, empathy, and respect should not depend on religious affiliation but on the choices we make every day.
Going to church on Sunday or attending a mosque does not automatically make someone a good person, but their character is built through their actions. It is our responsibility to care for others, stand against unfair treatment, and create spaces where people feel respected and valued regardless of who they are or where they come from. I am passionate about fairness, equal opportunity and creating environments where people, especially young people, feel supported rather than judged. I have seen firsthand how easy it is for people to feel overlooked, unheard, or limited by circumstances outside of their control.
One of the humanist issues I am most passionate about is expanding opportunities for young people, particularly those who come from disadvantaged backgrounds. As a first-generation college student, I understand how difficult it can be to navigate systems that were not designed with someone like me in mind. I have experienced financial hardship, uncertainty, and barriers that could have easily limited my future. However, I have also experienced the power of support, mentorship and community. I believe every young person deserves access to the resources and opportunities needed to reach their full potential.
I want to continue creating opportunities for others, serving my community, and leading with the belief that every person deserves dignity, respect and the chance to succeed.
Kaylla Da Costa
I grew up in Brazil, a country where religion is woven into almost every part of daily life. From my earliest memories, I was surrounded by people who insisted that God was watching, guiding, protecting, and that if I didn’t feel that presence, something was wrong with me. I remember sitting in crowded church services, trying to force myself to feel what everyone else claimed to feel, and instead feeling only guilt and confusion. I was told to believe in a God who would save us, yet I watched people around me struggle with poverty, violence and injustice that no prayer seemed to touch.
By the time I moved to the United States at 13, part of me was left behind. I felt dislocated, like an intruder, but I also felt a huge sense of relief. Here, I wasn’t surrounded by constant religious pressure, and for the first time, I could question what I had been taught. I began to notice a quiet but profound truth: the people who stepped forward to help were not acting out of divine mandate, but out of deliberate, human choice. Teachers who stayed after school to help me with English, neighbors who offered rides, volunteers who supported immigrant families, none of that came from divine intervention. It came from human beings deciding to care. That realization, as simple as it is, shaped my belief and understanding that progress is created by people choosing compassion. My commitment to humanism comes from understanding that justice is not promised; it is created through the choices we make every day. From the understanding that we only have each other, and that is reason enough to do good.
Daniel Sierra
As an agnostic, I have chosen to not believe in the mainstream religions. I align with Karl Marx’s assertion that “Religion is the opium of the people.” Marx is not saying religion is flawed or corrupt, but instead that it often functions as a coping mechanism for systemic evils like capitalism, poverty and disease. Yes, even capitalism. Yet, they are also used to justify these very same injustices: wars, genocides, racism, colorism, oppression of women, slavery. If religious texts can be twisted into defending any forms of oppression, then these religions look to be very dangerous toward the development of humanity.
I am a humanist both in text and in action. From Palestine to Los Angeles, my fight has always been for liberation from oppressive systems and governments. I carry both the vocalization of my humanism and the experience. Notably, I show this through my efforts for civil rights and equity through the public education system in Los Angeles. With my work, alongside student-led organizations such as Students Deserve, I have been able to mobilize hundreds of students through walkouts, public comments at Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) board, sit-ins at the LAUSD Headquarters, helping labor unions, and direct actions.
My humanism has driven me to defend institutional reparations. The Black Student Achievement Plan (BSAP) of LAUSD is a program that helps Black students through academics, attendance, and resources.
Humanism demands equity regardless of sex, race, gender, ethnicity, and color. These struggles tie back to humanism, and how equity is crucial to human development. Through my organizing and public advocacy, I have been able to prove my belief in humanism.
Mariah Slade
I identify as secular and as a humanist because my understanding of right and wrong has never come from religion, but from what I have seen people go through and how we choose to respond to it. Growing up in a single-parent, low-income household, I learned early that people are not given equal starting points, and that reality shaped how I think about fairness and responsibility. When things like school processes, financial aid information, or medical forms became overwhelming in my household, I was often the one sitting at the table trying to make sense of it all. I would read through everything line by line, rewrite it in simpler terms, and explain it until it was clear. In those moments, I started to understand how easily people can be shut out of opportunities, not because they are not capable, but because systems are not built with them in mind.
During high school, I tried to create a different kind of space in the ways I showed up for others. Through peer tutoring in math and science, I worked one-on-one with students who were struggling, often sitting with them after class and going through problems step by step until it finally clicked. I remember one student who had already decided they were going to fail.
They barely spoke at first and kept saying they were “just not good at math.” Instead of rushing, I slowed everything down and rewrote each problem in a way that made it easier to follow. The moment they solved one on their own, their entire attitude shifted. They started asking questions, then answering them in class, and eventually passing tests they thought were impossible. That moment mattered to me because it showed how much confidence can change when someone feels supported instead of judged.
Kelan Speed
For a long while, I believed that if I read enough books, thought deeply enough or found the right philosophy, uncertainty would eventually disappear. I turned to literature, theology, political theory and philosophy searching for answers to questions that seemed impossible to avoid. Who are we? Why do we suffer? What gives life value?
The older I have become, the less certain I am that there is a final answer waiting at the end of that road. What I have become certain of is something much smaller. People are hungry, often lonely, and in desperate pursuit of opportunities they never had a chance to attain. All in the face of our suffering.
I have always admired philosophies that begin with the world as it exists rather than the world as we wish it to be. Human beings are imperfect. We are biased, emotional and often irrational. Yet we are also capable of extraordinary compassion. We build schools, libraries, hospitals, charities and communities not because we are forced to, but because we recognize ourselves in one another.
What appeals to me about secular humanism is not certainty, but responsibility. It asks us to confront problems directly. It refuses to assume that justice, equality or progress will simply arrive on their own. Instead, it places those responsibilities in human hands, and that conviction is the core of my belief.





