Adrin Ohaekwe Memorial Scholarship

The first time I lost a chess match that I thought I had won, I sat there for a long time trying to figure out where things went wrong. I had been so focused on my own plan that I stopped paying attention to what my opponent was doing. That loss taught me something I've carried into every part of my life since — having a good plan isn't enough. You have to stay aware, stay adaptable, and never assume the path forward is as clear as it looks. I started playing chess in school, and what drew me in wasn't just the competition — it was the way the game demanded a specific kind of thinking. Every move has consequences, not just immediately, but several steps down the line. You learn quickly that impulsive decisions are punished, that patience is a skill, and that the most important thing you can do before acting is understand the full picture in front of you. Those lessons translate directly into my career goals. I'm a freshman Chemical Engineering student at Stevens Institute of Technology, currently conducting undergraduate research in Professor Pin-Kuang Lai's lab, where I work on antibody-drug conjugate modeling for cancer treatment. The work involves running molecular dynamics simulations and using computational tools to analyze how ADC structures behave — predicting stability, solubility, and therapeutic potential before anything ever reaches a clinical setting. It is, in many ways, exactly like chess. You are constantly thinking ahead, anticipating how a change in one variable ripples through an entire system, and making calculated decisions under uncertainty. My long-term goal is to work in pharmaceutical process engineering or drug delivery research, focused on developing treatments that are accessible to underserved communities. Getting there requires the same strategic thinking chess taught me. I've already mapped out the steps — maintaining my 4.0 GPA, deepening my research experience each semester, securing an industry internship by junior year, and pursuing graduate school immediately after my undergraduate degree. Each step is deliberate. Each one sets up the next. Chess also taught me how to handle failure, which might be its most underrated lesson. In research, things go wrong constantly. Simulations don't behave as expected. Models have to be rebuilt. Results raise more questions than they answer. Early on, that kind of setback felt discouraging. But chess reframes failure as information — every loss shows you exactly where your thinking broke down, and that's actually valuable. I've started approaching research the same way. A result that doesn't match your prediction isn't a dead end. It's the game showing you something you hadn't considered. Balancing undergraduate research, a full course load, and competing on the varsity track and field team requires the same resource management that chess demands on the board. You only have so many pieces. You only have so much time. The question is always how to deploy what you have in the most effective way possible, without overextending yourself in one area at the cost of another. Adrin Ohaekwe clearly understood that chess is more than a game. It is a framework for thinking — about problems, about people, about the future. I am grateful to have learned it, and I plan to keep playing it, on the board and off, for the rest of my life.

“The King is your life. One mistake, and it can be taken away.” I was in the sixth grade at Redan Middle School when I first heard those words. While waiting for my dad after school, my teacher put on the movie Life of a King. Even though I was a bit of a nerd, I didn't really show it; where I’m from, it wasn’t "cool" to be the smart kid, let alone play chess. However, seeing Eugene Brown use a chessboard to teach young men who looked like me that their lives were worth protecting changed something in me. That movie inspired me to join the chess club and started a lifelong journey of learning how to think under pressure. I didn't care if people thought playing chess was "lame." I started practicing and eventually joined the school's chess club, but the real world at the local barbershop humbled me fast. While everyone else argued about basketball or football, I watched the older guys in the corner. I was fascinated by how they stayed locked in despite the commotion. One day, I tried a match against one of them. I made my first move with total confidence, building a "master" plan in my head. Then, boom, he had me in checkmate in two moves. That loss stuck with me. It taught me that there are always levels to expertise, and if you get too cocky, you’ve already lost. In nursing school, it’s the same way. You can’t wing it because the material is too deep and your grades will reflect that immediately. Like that match at the barbershop, nursing school requires respecting how much there is to learn while staying focused despite a chaotic schedule of working 32 hours a week, paying for school, and maintaining relationships. As I got more serious, I entered competitions around DeKalb County. It wasn't just about fun anymore; it was about grit. In one tournament, I played a kid who was levels above me. His grandad stood behind him acting like a coach, yelling, “Trap him! Then end it!” over and over. The pressure was intense, with this man calling for my head while I tried to survive the board. I looked at my dad, and all he could do was laugh. It’s a memory we share to this day, but at the time, it was a massive lesson in composure. In nursing school, especially during clinicals or high-stakes exams, I think back to that tournament. There is always "outside noise," whether it’s the stress of a busy hospital floor or a difficult test. Chess taught me how to shut that out and focus on the move right in front of me. Even when you’re "trapped," you have to keep your composure and make the best decision possible. I picked the game back up in college to test my wit against friends for bragging rights. We research openings and traps to catch each other off guard, which keeps my mind sharp. It reminds me that whether in a game or a career, you have to keep studying to stay ahead. Looking back, it all started at Redan. That movie taught me I wasn’t just a pawn; I was in control of my moves. My goal now is to graduate and become a Registered Nurse who provides high-level care. Nursing is a long-game of chess, you have to think steps ahead and stay calm when the commotion gets loud. I’m ready to keep making the right moves toward my future.

Chess taught me to think before I act. That sounds simple, but in practice it is one of the hardest disciplines to develop, and it has shaped how I approach everything from clinical decision making to long term career planning. I am a Black and Filipino American undergraduate student transferring to the University of California, Davis in Fall 2026, pursuing psychology on the path to medical school and a career in psychiatry. My goal is to practice in underserved communities where access to mental health care is limited and where culturally informed providers are urgently needed. Getting there requires exactly the kind of thinking chess demands: patience, strategic sequencing, and the ability to hold a long term vision while navigating short term obstacles. Chess is fundamentally a game of consequence. Every move creates a new reality, and the player who wins is rarely the one who played the most aggressive game. It is the one who anticipated the most outcomes, managed risk intelligently, and stayed composed when the position got complicated. I have found this to be true in my clinical work as well. As a float pool Mental Health Worker at Sutter Health Berkeley, I rotate across inpatient psychiatric units including the Electroconvulsive Therapy unit, where I support patients in acute psychiatric crisis. In that environment there is no room for reactive thinking. A patient who is escalating requires calm, strategic de-escalation, the ability to read the situation several moves ahead and choose a response that reduces harm rather than amplifying it. Chess trained that instinct in me long before I ever set foot in a hospital. The concept of sacrifice is also central to chess. Sometimes you give up a piece to gain a better position. My career path has required similar thinking. I have taken lower paying clinical roles to build experience that will matter later. I have chosen the longer, harder path toward medical school over faster credentialing routes because I understand what the endgame looks like and what it will take to get there. Casual chess players learn this lesson quickly: short term thinking loses games. Long term vision wins them. Chess also teaches you to study your losses. Every game you lose contains information. The player who refuses to analyze their mistakes is the player who keeps making them. In my work with children with autism as a Registered Behavior Technician, this translated directly into how I reviewed behavioral data after sessions that did not go as planned. What did I miss. What could I have anticipated. What would I do differently next time. That reflective practice is not natural for everyone but chess makes it habitual. Finally chess is a game that rewards preparation. The openings you study, the patterns you recognize, the endgame theory you internalize all become available to you in the moment when the position gets complicated. Medical school, psychiatry residency, and a career in clinical practice are the same. The preparation I am doing now, the clinical hours, the research experience, the coursework, will be available to me when the stakes are highest and the patients need me most. Adrin Ohaekwe understood that chess builds more than strategy. It builds character. I am grateful for what the game has taught me and for scholarships like this one that recognize the connection between how we think and who we become.

Being a non-traditional college student shouldn't only be seen through the clouds of age. When I realized at the age of 29 that I wanted to return to school to pursue nursing, I was met with both negativity and deterrence from a few people around me (myself included), and positivity and encouragement. I knew that making such a drastic life change would be difficult, but it would be necessary in order to get to where I wanted to in life. At the time, I thought that it was the change that I feared, but instead it was the possibility of failure that kept me wide-eyed. Nonetheless, I made up my mind to take a chance on myself. As I began to place a plan into motion, the steps seemed to get shorter and the incline a bit less. I realized heading into this new chapter of my life that like a game of chess, it's a bit easier to succeed when aware of the possibilities. It is through chess that I learned that it is not only that one must remain constantly aware of their surroundings and of the possibilities that exist, but that premeditated action must be taken in order to increase the chances of success. For it is through these taken chances that we are given a greater and wider world view. To be a nurse, the world must be viewed through a lens of compassion and understanding. A lens with a strength to match the clear, up-close views that nurses get at humanities pains and triumphs. Growing up, I knew that helping people is what I wanted to do. When my grandma would get sick, I'd be up early to make sure she was okay. Though young, I would help with getting her cups of tea or coffee, food and medicine. Now, en-route to becoming a nurse practitioner and CRNA, I wish my grandma could see me. My goal is to help our community the way I wish I could've helped my grandma. A community that is beautiful and strongly cohered, yet has been riddled with poor health stemming from the inability to afford healthcare. As a nurse practitioner, I plan to offer free healthcare services to our border community to those who cannot afford to visit a doctor's office. I would also like to offer harm reduction services to members of our community who struggle with substance use disorder. In a country as great and prosperous as ours, not one person should go without having the ability to receive compassionate healthcare. Just as in a game of chess, I've taken a good look at who and what surrounds me. I've done all I can to plan ahead in order to ensure my survival on this path to becoming a healthcare worker. I've considered that what-ifs; what if i don't pass this class or what if my next move lands me in between a Rook and hard place? But also, what if I graduate top of my class or save a life? I've thought of as much as I could and have tried to prepare accordingly. But alas, we never truly know life's next move. When I look around and see all these different faces, all I could think is that we are all someone's child. Just kids who had to grow up and try to figure life out. I'll never pretend to have it figured out - life and all it encompasses, but I'm certain that my desire to help people will forever be a piece of the puzzle that makes me, me.

My career goal is to work in the National Basketball Association (NBA). I am passionate about basketball and have been playing since childhood. As a result, I have developed an extensive understanding of the game and its subtleties, which has enabled me to appreciate its nuances as well as recognize potential strategies for success. My ultimate objective is to use this knowledge to help teams and players maximize their on-court performance while also helping them build successful careers off of it. Playing chess has greatly helped me develop my skills that will be necessary for working in the NBA. Chess requires strategizing ahead multiple steps, anticipating your opponent’s moves, staying focused even when under pressure, adapting quickly to changing situations during play, and being creative in problem-solving. All of these skills are applicable to the NBA environment, where decisions have to be made quickly and accurately while also taking into consideration any potential next steps that could arise. Additionally, playing chess has taught me how to think outside of the box when it comes to tackling problems or challenges. It is essential for teams and players alike in the NBA to be able to adjust their strategies on a moment’s notice due to changes in personnel or team dynamics, so being able to come up with creative solutions is very important. Chess requires one to constantly evaluate different options and consider multiple paths at once; this skill can be used effectively by coaches and staff members within an organization since they must make critical decisions based on what will be best for the team in the long run. Finally, playing chess has also taught me how to better assess risks and rewards associated with certain moves or decisions. In any sport, there is a risk-reward ratio that must be taken into account when evaluating potential outcomes of an action; this concept can be applied directly to decision making within teams and organizations. By understanding which risks are worth taking and which ones should be avoided, staff members can employ strategies that will optimize the chances of success for their respective teams. Overall, my experience playing chess has helped me develop key skills related to strategizing, problem-solving, risk assessment and creative thinking - all of which are essential for working in the NBA. These abilities have given me the confidence to pursue my career goal of working in the NBA, where I am determined to use my knowledge and experience to help teams and players reach their maximum potential.