Student Spotlight: Molly Young, College of Health Sciences
On any given day, my Google Calendar looks like a mosaic of color.
There are blocks for exercise science classes, sorority meetings, gymnastics practice and Active Life Initiative planning sessions. Not to mention appearances as Miss University of Memphis.
It can look overwhelming at first glance. But to me, it looks like purpose.
I pivot from the College of Health Sciences to chapter meetings where I serve as sorority president, from coaching young gymnasts through their routines to sitting down with University leaders about mental health programming. Each role requires something slightly different from me: organization, empathy, confidence and discipline.
At the center of all of it is one steady mission. I want to leave spaces better than I found them.
That mindset didn’t appear overnight. It was built through movement, mentorship and loss. It was shaped in a small town in Nebraska, strengthened in a gymnastics gym and refined under stage lights.
Where It Began
I grew up in North Platte, Neb., with two older sisters who were my built-in best friends. All three of us were part of the Miss Nebraska Little Sister program through the Miss America organization. I was just 8 years old when I first stepped into that world of crowns and sashes and community service initiatives.
Beyond the sparkle, what struck me was the purpose.
The women I met were doing more than just competing, they were advocating with platforms. They had causes. They stood on stage and spoke about issues that mattered.
Even as a little girl, I remember thinking — I want to do that someday.
At the same time, I was pouring my energy into gymnastics. I had started in dance, but I wanted something more intense, more competitive. Gymnastics gave me that outlet. For six years, I trained and competed, learning how to fall, reset and try again.
Gymnastics taught me discipline. It taught me how to handle pressure. It taught me that growth is uncomfortable but worth it.
Now, as a competitive gymnastics coach, I see those same lessons playing out in the girls I train. I help preschoolers learn their first forward rolls and guide competitive athletes through meet weekends. I stand on the sidelines knowing exactly how they feel before they salute the judges.
The gym was my first classroom in resilience. The Miss America organization was my first classroom in service.
A New City, A New Direction
In 2020, my family moved to Memphis for my dad’s job. Leaving Nebraska meant leaving teammates, mentors and familiarity. It was harder than I expected.
After high school, I enrolled in an online community college as a mechanical engineering major. I was fascinated by biomechanics and how the body moves and functions. But online classes left me feeling disconnected. I missed being part of something bigger.
Transferring to the University of Memphis changed that.
My sister was already a student here and I knew I needed that sense of community. Around the same time, I realized that while I loved movement science, I wanted to work directly with people.
I switched my major to exercise science, and it felt like everything clicked into place. The College of Health Sciences became a second home. The professors knew my name. Students supported one another. The atmosphere was collaborative rather than competitive.
Studying exercise science deepened my understanding of the connection between physical and mental well-being. It also laid the groundwork for something I didn’t yet know I would need.
Meanwhile, I continued competing within the Miss America organization, holding titles like Miss Jackson’s Teen and Miss Perry County before earning Miss University of Memphis. Each competition strengthened my confidence and sharpened my ability to communicate clearly under pressure.
When I won Miss University of Memphis, I was honored not just because of the title, but because of the responsibility. I truly love this University. Representing it felt personal.
I just didn’t yet realize how personal my platform would become.
Turning Grief Into Purpose
In July 2024, I lost my best friend, Ali.
We had grown up together in gymnastics. The sport bonds you in ways that are hard to explain. You spend hours side by side, pushing through tough practices, celebrating small victories, trusting each other completely.
I knew she had struggled with her mental health, but when I found out she had passed, it felt like it wasn’t real. I learned through social media posts, scrolling in disbelief. The grief was sharp and disorienting.
There were moments of anger. Moments of guilt. Questions I couldn’t answer.
Eventually, I realized that staying in that space wouldn’t honor her.
The Active Life Initiative became my way forward.
Through this initiative, I advocate for suicide prevention while emphasizing the role of healthy coping mechanisms in emotional wellness.
I collaborate with campus organizations to host suicide prevention events, speak in classrooms about understanding your emotions and mental health resources and use my platform to normalize conversations around struggle.
I meet with University marketing leaders to expand outreach. I work with faculty in the College of Health Sciences to highlight the science behind movement and mood. I also create content to educate students about available resources.
At its heart, the initiative sends one clear message: you are not alone.
Many people who struggle with mental health feel isolated. They believe they are the only ones carrying that weight. I want to disrupt that narrative. I want to create spaces where vulnerability is met with compassion.
Ali’s story is not shared to reopen wounds, but to build bridges.
Leadership With Intention
Balancing school, coaching, sorority leadership, pageantry and advocacy requires intention and structure.
As sorority president, I oversee executive meetings, coordinate programming, manage chapter communication and serve as a liaison between members and University leadership. It has stretched me in ways I didn’t expect. Leadership is not always glamorous. Sometimes it’s spreadsheets and difficult conversations. But it is deeply meaningful.
Pageantry continues to refine my public speaking skills and confidence. Interviews challenge me to articulate my beliefs clearly and authentically. The stage has become less intimidating over time, not because it’s easier, but because I’ve grown.
One of the most powerful parts of my journey has been mentorship. One former Miss Nebraska (who once mentored me as a Little Sister) later helped me shape the backbone of the Active Life Initiative. She guided me in refining the “why” behind my work.
That full-circle moment reminded me that none of us succeed alone.
The Impact Beyond the Stage
When I imagine the future, I see graduate school at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center, pursuing occupational therapy. I see continued advocacy. I see competing for Miss Tennessee and, one day, standing on the Miss America stage.
But more than titles or degrees, I hope to build impact.
If one student feels less alone after something I did, my goal was met. If one gymnast feels seen because I remembered what it felt like to stand in her shoes, my goal was met. If one conversation prevents someone from isolating themselves in silence, my goal was met.
The crown is meaningful. The roles are demanding. And the calendar is full.
But the purpose behind it all is simple.
I want to move through life the way I move through a routine: focused, intentional, grounded in strength and always ready to rise again.
