Bettie Lott and Vera Times Public Health Scholarship

My aspirations of becoming an excellent labor and delivery nurse have been a constant factor driving me to be where I am today. During the pandemic I saw nurses sacrificing their time, and in some cases their safety to give aid to people in need. They were a beacon of hope during those harsh times, and their bravery inspired me to join their ranks. As I began my journey I heard far too many stories of minority women not being taken seriously with their health care concerns, and not receiving adequate treatments. In fact, over half of all black women over the age of 50 have reported a negative experience with a healthcare provider. Unfortunately, I’ve had the displeasure of witnessing this firsthand through the mistreatment of my own family members. On one occasion my grandmother was experiencing extreme pain resulting in us having to go to urgent care on Christmas morning. What should have been a straightforward experience instead resulted in multiple doctors dismissing her and the night ending without getting any answers. While this experience was incredibly shocking to me, I found that my mother also received inadequate care during her pregnancy with me. Complications for minority women during birth was the leading factor in my decision to pursue a career as a labor and delivery nurse. Consequently, I wanted to learn how I could make an impact in eliminating the flaws from the system, especially in my own community. This prompted my involvement in Health Occupations Students of America, which has taught me valuable skills involving research, community outreach and collaboration. Ensuring that people are being acknowledged and represented fairly in healthcare is the cornerstone of building a successful community. In my future, I plan to use the skills I will have learned practically in order to be a good nurse and socially in order to be a good person. As an individual I recognize that my impact would be limited to the patients I have direct contact with. However, as a leader I will be able to broaden my scope to lead a team of healthcare workers in making a difference for the entire community. I am going to translate the skills I have acquired over the years into my nursing career by being a leader that not only advocates for their patients but one that guides my peers into treating everyone with the kindness and respect that they deserve while giving exceptional care. I will not wait to make an impact in my community, so I will start combating these issues during my undergraduate experience. I want to propose an experiential learning activity at the college of my choice that will allow future healthcare providers hands-on care in their community. Specifically, I want to lead a nursing cohort that offers free medical exams to women, especially ones going through a pregnancy. This would provide nursing students the ability to get firsthand practice in the field by interacting with the community, while also providing care for women in need. This will also help to bridge the gap between the community and healthcare since people have negative experiences so commonly. Being able to work with the community first hand will help us encourage the community to come in to see care frequently instead of worrying about a bad experience. All in all, this experimental activity will not only benefit the students looking to gain real world experiences but communities who deserve a better relationships with their healthcare professionals.

One major health issue in my community that I think is important to address is sleep deprivation that is experienced by teenagers in my community. Many teenagers in high schools are unable to get enough sleep due to their busy schedules, work, and excessive use of technology. I believe this health issue is important to me because I feel it, and I see it every day. It has become common to find teenagers coming to school tired, unable to focus, and feeling pressured by their busy schedules. Teenagers are recommended to get between eight and ten hours of sleep each night, but they are unable to get even half of that. The early start time of schools, combined with piles of work, forces them to stay awake late at night, either doing their homework or studying for exams. Additionally, social media and spending time on screens can cause them to stay awake for more time than what was expected. So, they end up going to bed late and waking up early in the morning to get to school on time. The effects of this problem can go beyond just feeling tired. Sleep deprivation, for instance, can affect students' concentration, how they retain information, and how they perform well academically. In many classrooms in my community, it is common to find students having a hard time staying awake or having the energy to fully engage in class. Sleep deprivation over time can lead to negative effects on the mental well-being of students. When the students are constantly tired, it becomes hard for them to succeed. This issue is very important to me because I can see the effort that many of my classmates put into succeeding. Students in my community are often juggling hard courses like dual enrollment, and extracurricular activities. Even though ambition and work ethic can be seen as amazing character traits, they should not come at the expense of a student’s well-being. Sleep deprivation is a problem that needs to be solved to allow a student to reach their full academic potential. A good possible solution to this problem could be to delay the start time of schools to allow students to get enough sleep. It has been proven that if the start time of schools is delayed to later on, it can improve the alertness, performance, and mood of students. Another solution could be to educate students about the importance of getting enough sleep by not using screens before going to bed. Educating students through presentations can be an effective way to promote more sleep. Schools can also have wellness programs, which can include stress management and time management. In conclusion, sleep deprivation among teenagers is a major public health issue within my community. Sleep deprivation has a major effect on the physical and mental well-being, as well as academic performance, of students. Therefore, by raising awareness, adjusting school hours, and promoting healthy behaviors, a community can be created where students like myself can be helped to reach our academic goals and potential.

For five straight years, at approximately 6:00 PM when I came home from school, I watched my grandad slowly destroy his health through cigarettes. Slowly, the aching pain consumed him, and it consumed me as well. His mouth reeked of cigarette ash, and cigarette butts encompassed the front yard and the driveway. My heart felt betrayal, and my family did as well. Days before, the doctor told us his heart had been severely damaged by smoking and that it would tremendously shorten his lifespan and time with me. The echoes around 9:00 PM, of my mom asking my grandad to stop and the subsequent subliminal tell-off, “I’ll stop tomorrow" cut deep. To me, cigarette consumption is one of the most harmful “celebrated” evils in the world today. Sickle cell is commonly frowned upon. Cancer is a known evil that we have been fighting battles against. Yet we seem to accept the consequences of cigarette smoke. About three years ago, my grandad made the decision to stop, and I have never been happier. To me, this issue is more personal than anything. That is why I worked with the Clayton County Youth Commission, specifically on the effects of the smoking ordinance on youth in safe zones like parks and public spaces. I helped revise the §70-103 vape amendment to help strengthen protections for young people. And extend it to “new age” smoking devices and I continue to work with the health and wellness committee to host health workshops and teen nights to promote healthy living. I have seen the arguments between families, the commotion, the withdrawal, and the long-term effects enough to make it personal. Beyond tangible impacts, I would continue building a school-based, community-oriented platform focused on reducing smoking and vaping in my local community. And Ima call it “Tellme” my vision for Tellme is that it would start as a community-based network designed to increase engagement within schools and districts, with partner programs and parenting outreach through the Clayton County Youth Commission and the Clayton County Public Health District to create tangible impact. I have already partnered with the Clayton County Youth Commission as a member of the Health and Wellness Committee, promoting pro-health policies, leading anti-vape seminars, and working to improve inequitable health policy. Receiving this scholarship would help me advance the vision of Bettie Lott and Vera Times, two tremendous women who dedicated their lives to public service and servitude, just as I strive to do, with the common goal of advancing public health technologies to mitigate global health challenges. My experience in Clayton County as an Afro-Latino has been more or less the same: identify the injustices facing minority communities, address them directly, and work toward a better future. Being raised with my Mother who has fought a battle with cancer and won has made me health conscious and beyond that a change-maker in my community. Whether it's with Tellme the Clayton County Youth Commission, or at Emory pitching equitable solutions the fight against inequitable treatment in health policy is one that does not stop; it started with Bettie Lott and Vera Times, and it ends with equitable health policy for all those discriminated against. And, we’re not stopping until that's the case for all.

One pressing public health issue that I've noticed within my community is the lack of breastfeeding education, and the overall lack of pre/postpartum education and support. I am passionate about this issue because the women and families in my community have a right to this information. These disparities cause a lack of medical trust in POC communities due to poor experiences. When mothers face stereotyping and other racial inequalities in healthcare spaces, they often avoid necessary and crucial follow-up care. Even hearing about the mistreatment can cause mothers to refrain from reaching out for help or information that would benefit them and their babies. But it is easy to understand their fears. According to the CDC, Georgia has the worst maternal mortality ratio of any state. When the black maternal mortality rate is significantly higher than white counterparts, going into such a space can be absolutely terrifying for a new mother. The black mothers who do survive childbirth lack support after the baby is born. They are discharged from hospitals with little to no information and nothing to support them in their breastfeeding journey. When it comes to breastfeeding, most black mothers do not breastfeed past six months. In the black community, breastfeeding is often looked down upon. During slavery, black women were used as wet nurses for white women and their babies. As a result, they lacked the milk supply necessary to feed their own babies. This degrading practice continued for years after slavery, causing multigenerational trauma and a strong disdain for breastfeeding. When formula came out, it was targeting black families by promoting it as a sophisticated lifestyle choice, which appealed to black families fighting racist stereotypes that labeled them as the opposite. White women had the luxury to choose whether to breastfeed or not, but for black families, there was never a choice. In order to survive, everyone had to work, leaving formula as the only option for a baby. As the years went on, even more harmful practices emerged, such as adding rice cereal to the milk or mashed-up fruits. The mothers who did these things and the ones who still do them today are not trying to harm their babies. They are simply continuing the practices they were taught by their mothers and grandmothers. So when you combine mistreatment in healthcare before the baby is born, mistreatment after the baby is born, and lack of adequate support at home, you get a mother with postpartum depression, anxiety, and an irritated baby. What can be done to help stop this cycle that has plagued the black community for centuries? One solution is to make the information and care accessible. This can be done by going to where the people are instead of hoping they stumble across you. For example, I know a lot of women today use social media to ask questions and look up information, so I could make informative posts with certain tags to reach them. I could also meet them in real life at hospitals and birth centers and hand out flyers directing them to free and educational resources. I am currently working with a local nonprofit whose main mission is getting black mothers the needed support, care, and information they need. We offer free childbirth and breastfeeding classes, and we are constantly out in the community providing practical needs such as diapers and baby clothes. As I continue to work with this nonprofit and begin my journey to becoming a nurse, my mission is to erase the stigma that healthcare experiences have to be bad for expectant black women.

One of the biggest health issues that we face in Clayton County is that people do not understand the health care system. In Clayton County, there are almost 40,000 people of foreign descent. This means that we have a wide variety of cultures and languages represented in our community. This is what makes our community so strong, but it is also what creates a problem for people to understand the health care system. In my life, I have seen this in a variety of ways. For instance, many of my aunts and uncles, as well as my parents, do not go to a yearly visit with a doctor. This is not because they do not care about their health and well-being. It is because they do not understand the health care system and are uncomfortable with it. In fact, many times, my parents do not even know what the doctor is telling them when they go to their office. Despite the fact that the person was born in the United States of America and understands the language, which is English, it is difficult to understand the terminologies the doctors use to explain their condition. The doctors usually use terminologies to explain the patients’ condition. When the patients do not understand what the doctors are saying, they tend to avoid going back to the hospital. This may lead to health complications, which would have been avoided if the patients went back to the hospital. In Riverdale and College Park, patients tend to go to the hospital only when they are seriously ill. Diseases such as high blood pressure and heart problems may not be diagnosed since patients are not visiting the hospital regularly. In order to combat this, I would develop a HealthBridge Community Initiative that would aim to ensure that individuals are able to be more informed about their health and the health system. This would be done by training student volunteers to conduct basic health education workshops within schools and other centers across the community. The aim of the workshops is to ensure that individuals and families are able to be educated about basic health concepts that would enable them to be able to read their prescriptions, understand the importance of yearly visits to the health system, and be able to prepare for a visit to the health system in order to be comfortable with the system. It would also have a part that is mobile and would provide the family with information regarding common health issues in simple language, inform them of their scheduled appointments, and other such information. It would also have information in other languages that can help the family understand the situation better if they do not speak the same language. Accessing health information would make them feel more confident while talking to doctors. Improving health literacy can make a big difference in communities like ours.This means that if a person is health literate, that person knows his or her health and can avoid serious health issues while having a healthy life. I want to create a solution as a public health practitioner to help create solutions that make healthcare easier to understand and accessible for everyone in my community.

Drug abuse is an incredibly pervasive, longstanding, and misunderstood facet of public health. Coming from an area in which organized crime is quite rampant and predatory, I am no stranger to this. Many kids my age are often encouraged to smoke or consume edible gummies recreationally, not knowing that casual usage of these marijuana-based substances can snowball into an even bigger problem down the line. It acts as a sort of "gateway drug," appearing relatively innocuous initially and then becoming the first real addiction many are exposed to. I have seen people's livelihoods, futures, and most importantly, happiness stolen away by these substances. When users of drugs eventually develop conditions such as substance use disorder, their families, their communities, and society at large often turns their backs on them. They are simply left to battle their addiction alone, with little assistance, in a manner that becomes increasingly dangerous to their own wellbeing. One thing that makes this such a common occurrence is the fundamental misunderstanding of addiction by others who do not struggle with it. It is not simply "a choice," nor is it particularly pleasant for anyone involved. Those who find themselves addicted to a substance often reach a point where they use it in order to simply not feel sick from withdrawal symptoms, or to maintain some semblance of equilibrium and normalcy as opposed to simply chasing a high. If I were to suggest a solution, I would start with education. The issue with programs like DARE is that they do not portray drug usage with fidelity. They frame it as something that will cause you to be hooked immediately upon first use. When teenagers eventually try these drugs, they are often pleasantly surprised by the mild nature of them compared to what they were taught to expect. They grow curious about other things they may have been "lied to" about, and they eventually develop an addiction because they were never truly taught the realities of drug abuse. This could be rectified by giving students a more mellow, less dramatized, and honest version of events. What makes addiction particularly insidious is how easily it creeps up on you; there are both highs and lows, and then you eventually hit lows trying to chase the highs. Additionally, I would like to emphasize the more systematic aspect of solving this problem. The healthcare infrastructure of the metro-Atlanta area is quite extensive, boasting numerous hospitals and hospital systems in and around the city. However, it is stretched incredibly thin. Following the finance-driven closure of the Atlanta Medical Center in 2022, Grady became the only Level 1 trauma center in the city, and Emory Midtown saw major stress on its carrying capacity. Simply put, the issue of addiction cannot be solved without adequate resources being poured into healthcare. These hospitals also frequently provide inpatient and rehabilitative care to those who struggle with addiction, and the increased pressure on them has affected their ability to serve those who are recovering or would like to recover from their condition. Substance abuse crises can be alleviated, but they require continued attention and care of everyone in our communities to make this happen.

A pressing public health issue in my community is mental health. This issue matters to me on a personal level because I have experienced firsthand how mental health struggles can affect every part of daily life. There was a point in my life when everything became too much, and I believed that my life was of no value. I eventually realized that in that darkness there was still hope for me. I decided to turn to God and growing closer to him helped me find strength to carry on. Due to this experience, I care deeply about ensuring that people in Georgia have access to the proper care before they want to take their own lives. Mental illness is widespread in Georgia, affecting both youth and adults across the state. About 104,000 Georgian teens experience depression. Adults also struggle with mental illness as well. In February 2021, 29.4% of Georgia adults who needed therapy or counseling were unable to get it. When individuals cannot access care, their symptoms often worsen, affecting their daily life and overall well‑being. These statistics show that mental health is not just an individual struggle but a difficulty to the health of the entire state. To address this crisis, I believe Georgia must shift toward personalized, patient‑centered mental health care. Customized treatment plans that adapt to each person’s needs can improve engagement, reduce misdiagnosis, and help individuals feel truly understood. Mental health cannot be solved by trying to solve it broadly. Patient care should reflect the unique experiences, backgrounds, and challenges of each patient. Additionally, with over 100,000 teens experiencing depression, schools must play a larger role in providing mental health services. Partnerships between schools and community mental health providers could create safe, accessible spaces for students to receive counseling, early intervention, and emotional support. Many students may feel more comfortable talking to people in a familiar environment. Being surrounded by adults who genuinely want to help them navigate difficult moments may get them to realize someone is there for them. School‑based programs can also reduce stigma by normalizing conversations about mental health. This will help people not feel out of place because mental health is important. Conclusively, by personalizing care and emphasizing more school‑based mental health programs, I feel the pressing mental health crisis can become more contained if not completely solved. My own journey has shown me how powerful peoples comforting words and helpful actions can be. I want others to be able to be able to regain their peace and happiness as I was able too.

Being born from Emory Midtown, and growing up in Forest Park, Georgia, I have seen how the access to quality healthcare can shape a child’s future and determine their development in a school system. One of the most pressing issues on public health in my community is the limited access to affordable and consistent pediatric healthcare. With many neighborhoods across the South Metro Atlanta area, families are increasingly faced with barriers whether that be: insurance, transportation, long wait times, or just the mere shortage of nearby primary health providers. These obstacles prevent children from being accessible to preventive care and early treatment, leaving them susceptible to long term health consequences. As an aspiring pediatrician, this issue deeply matters to me because I see how it directly affects the students and families around me. In my community, it is common for families to rely on the emergency room instead of primary care physicians. Even though emergency rooms are critical for urgent situations, they are not designed to be the leading output to provide ongoing preventative care. Children often miss out on annual physicals, developmental screenings, vaccinations, and mental health check in’s which are essential for spotting issues like: asthma, obesity, anxiety, and other untreated infections early on. I’ve seen classmates of my own miss school for periods of time due to preventable illnesses, and younger children fall short academically because of unmanaged health concerns that interfere with their focus and attendance. When healthcare is inconsistent, education indirectly suffers, and when education suffers, the cycle of inequality continues. To improve healthcare access in my community, I would suggest several inventive and community-centered solutions. First, expanding school-based health clinics would bring medical assistance directly to the students. Since schools are already trusted and accessible facilities, and providing on-site healthcare professionals would allow students to receive vaccinations, mental health support, and routine check-ups without requiring the parents to miss work or arrange transportation. School-based clinics could also contribute health education workshops that advise students on healthy nutritional lifestyles, stress management, and the vision behind preventative care. Secondly, mobile pediatric health units could travel to underserved neighborhoods on a consistent schedule. With these units, they can be in coalition with local hospitals and universities to provide screenings, physicals, and referrals at little to no cost. By meeting these families where they are, once again it will eliminate the transportation barriers and reduce overcrowding seen often in emergency rooms. The technology in these units could further enhance these efforts as they can consult directly with healthcare professionals virtually for non-emergency concerns. Lastly, strengthening community alliances would be essential. If collaborations between local organizations, schools, healthcare providers, and churches could help families enroll in insurance programs or at least expose them and connect them to affordable care resources. Outreach campaigns led by trusted community leaders like your mayor, pastor, or teachers could reduce the stigma around issues like mental health and encourage people to get the help the deserve early on. Addressing healthcare access isn't just about treating illness, it's about build a healthier and more sound future generation. When children receive support they are more likely to develop healthier life-long habits, perform better in school, and engage in extracurricular activities. As I matriculate down the path of becoming a pediatrician, I hope to return to communities like mine to serve families who deserve honest care. By implementing these strategies we can move toward a healthcare system where every child in Atlanta has the opportunity to succeed.

The first skirt I chose for myself was a simple black color that hugged my hips and flared out into a flowing, knee-length hem. The skirt signaled grace, composure, and a sense of being " Put together".I was a high-achieving student, but beneath the rhythmic swing of that hem, I was hiding the “flaring” chaos of my own anxiety. In my community this is our quiet crisis: we have mastered the 'Performance of Wellness' . We use our outward appearance–our polished clothes, our perfect grades, our curated social media–as emotional armor to mask internal distress. This isn’t just a personal struggle; it is a pressing public health issue that keeps our youth isolated and prevents us from seeking help until we reach a breaking point. When ‘looking okay’ becomes a social requirement, depression and anxiety go unnoticed by the very people trained to help us. This issue matters because the “performance” of wellness creates a dangerous delayed-response cycle in which distress goes unnoticed. When we all look curated and stable, we assume no one is hurting, which prevents us from seeking help until we reach a breaking point. In our community the pressure to maintain an aesthetic facade means that depression and anxiety often go unnoticed by peers and educators alike. We are a generation that has mastered the art of the “mask” but in doing so, we have lost the ability to be seen by the support systems meant to protect us. To break this cycle, I propose the anonymous digital wellness check-in where students can report how they are feeling without fearing judgement. Schools could implement a weekly anonymous check-in where students scan a QR code posted in classrooms to complete a short survey about their emotional well-being. School counselors could review responses to identify patterns of distress and reach out to students who request support.Because many students feel pressure to appear emotionally stable, anonymity allows honesty to replace performance. Anonymous check-ins allow students to express how they truly feel, replacing the ‘performance of wellness'’ with honest and early support. The black skirt I once wore as armor did not protect me; it only kept my struggle invisible. By implementing anonymous digital wellness check-ins, we can ensure that no student in my community feels forced to trade their mental health for the appearance of stability. My goal is to transform our culture from one of "perfect performance" to one of radical support. When we finally trade our masks for honest conversations, we do not just improve public health–we save lives by ensuring every student is truly seen before they reach a breaking point

Winner Osakwe Majoring in Health Science (Light Of Joy, Amplify Youth) Every morning, I watch my mother carefully measure her blood sugar before eating a single bite of breakfast. Her hands tremble not from age, but from the effects battling diabetes for years. This has become a daily routine in our household, a reminder that diabetes isn’t just a statistic it’s a life changing condition that deeply affects families like mine. In my community, diabetes is more than a diagnosis; it is a growing public health crisis that touches every neighborhood, every family, and every future. Diabetes, especially type 2, is alarmingly common in our community because of a mix of unhealthy access to food, poor healthcare resources, and the lack of healthy living education. Convenience stores outnumber grocery stores, and most families use fast food as their primary source of meals. As a result, obesity levels are high, and physical activity is minimal, particularly among children and teenagers. If not taken care of, this trend will lead to even more cases of diabetes, heart disease, and other chronic illnesses that are preventable with the right support and knowledge. To tackle this issue head-on, I would propose the creation of a “Healthy Streets” initiative an outreach program that combines mobile health clinics, free diabetes screenings, and nutrition education directly in the neighborhoods that need them most. These clinics would offer practical tools like glucose monitors, cooking demonstrations, and even free healthy food samples. We’d also partner with local schools to implement interactive health education programs, teaching kids how to make better food choices and develop active habits early on. The goal is to bring resources to the people, rather than waiting for them to come to us. This mission is personal. My mother has struggled with managing her diabetes for years, partially because she did not have access to the resources and education that could have helped her prevent it in the first place. Watching her experience the daily challenges of finger pricks, medication side effects, insulin shots, and dietary restrictions has shown me how overwhelming diabetes can be, especially for older adults on fixed or low incomes. If we could provide families with the things they need to prevent diabetes early, we could save lives and protect futures which is something I deeply wish had been available for my mother when she was younger. Innovation is the key to lasting change. Aside from the mobile clinics, I would suggest rolling out a mobile app. This app would offer individualized meal planning, culturally relevant recipes, reminders for meds, and social network for individuals with diabetes to share tips and encouragement. Technology enables us to meet people where they are, on their phones and serve them at all times. More than clinics and education will be required to end the diabetes crisis; it will take empathy, innovation, and commitment to empowering people with genuine, lasting solutions.

When my family moved to a different state, I stayed behind in Georgia to finish school. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever made, and while I knew it was the best choice for my future, the loneliness and stress took a toll on my mental health. I found myself struggling with anxiety and self-doubt, but like many in my community, I hesitated to talk about it. Mental health isn’t a common topic in my environment—it’s often ignored, misunderstood, or dismissed entirely. Many young people around me are silently battling depression, stress, and anxiety without support. The stigma surrounding mental health is one of the most pressing public health issues in my community, and it’s time we address it. In my school, I’ve noticed that students hesitate to reach out for help, fearing judgment or not knowing where to turn. Many believe that struggling with mental health makes them weak, leading them to suffer in silence. This stigma not only prevents early intervention but also increases the risk of long-term emotional and academic challenges. Without proper support, students facing stress and trauma are more likely to disengage from school, struggle with self-esteem, and even develop more severe mental health conditions. To tackle this issue, I would advocate for mental health education as a core part of the school curriculum. Many students lack the knowledge to identify symptoms of anxiety, depression, or burnout in themselves or their peers. By incorporating lessons on emotional well-being, stress management, and coping strategies, we can normalize these discussions and encourage students to prioritize their mental health. Schools should also provide more accessible counseling services, including peer-led support groups where students can speak openly without fear of judgment. An innovative solution I propose is a mental health mentorship program that pairs students with trained mentors who can provide guidance and support. This program would create a safe space where students can talk about their struggles with someone who understands their experiences. Mentors, whether older students, teachers, or community members, could help normalize conversations about mental health while offering practical advice and emotional support. Additionally, I would develop a mental health mobile app specifically designed for students. This app would provide self-care tips, guided meditation exercises, and an anonymous check-in feature where students can track their emotions and receive personalized support. It would also connect students with professional mental health resources, ensuring that those in crisis have immediate access to help. Addressing mental health stigma isn’t just about raising awareness—it’s about providing real solutions that empower young people to take charge of their well-being. If we can create an environment where students feel safe discussing their mental health, we can reduce the stigma and help them succeed both academically and personally. No one should have to suffer in silence, and with the right support system in place, we can ensure that every student feels seen, heard, and valued.

Growing up in an underserved immigrant community, I witnessed how illnesses like sickle cell disease quietly devastated families. It wasn’t just a condition listed in a textbook. It was real and painful and constant for the people I cared about. It was something that too often went unnoticed by those who had the power to help. One moment in particular changed everything for me. My friend called me from the hospital. His little brother, only eight years old, was in the middle of a sickle cell crisis. He lay in the bed, his small body tense with pain, his mother sitting beside him, holding his hand and doing her best to stay strong. I sat there with them, feeling helpless. I couldn’t do anything to ease his suffering. That helplessness stayed with me and became the reason I chose to act. I started organizing blood drives at my school, focusing on raising awareness and gathering donations in minority communities where the need for compatible blood is highest. I stood in front of classrooms, in libraries, and even in lunchrooms, sharing stories and facts about sickle cell disease. I wanted people to understand what this illness meant and how something as simple as a blood donation could save lives. The response was overwhelming. Watching my classmates line up to donate gave me hope that change is possible when people care enough to show up. Then, things became even more personal. I found out that I carry the sickle cell trait. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I felt fine. But when I learned more, I realized this meant I could one day pass it on to my children. The thought of my own child suffering like my friend’s brother filled me with fear. It made the work I was doing feel even more urgent. It became not just about helping others, but about protecting the future of my own family. To keep pushing this mission forward, I want to create a mobile health awareness program that brings sickle cell education, screenings, and genetic counseling directly into underserved neighborhoods. Many families simply don’t have access to this kind of care or knowledge, and I believe we can change that by going to them. I also want to develop a phone-based tool that reminds patients to take their medicine, go to appointments, and connect with local blood drives. For some families, a simple text message could be the difference between life and danger. I also want to launch a youth-led health ambassador program in local schools, giving students the chance to learn about public health and lead change in their own communities. I know what it feels like to be young and feel powerless. But I also know what it feels like to take action and realize that your voice matters. I want to give that experience to others. Receiving the Bettie Lott and Vera Times Public Health Scholarship would mean more than just financial help. It would be a sign that my work matters, that the lives of people in my community matter. As I study biology and work toward becoming an anesthesiologist, this scholarship would help me stay focused on the mission that drives me. It would let me keep showing up for others while preparing to one day lead in the field of medicine. This is not just about a degree. It’s about healing, hope, and justice. With your support, I can continue to build a future where no child suffers in silence and no community is left behind.

As an immigrant, I have always paid close attention to the challenges people in my community face, especially those related to health. Growing up in an environment where people often lacked access to quality care or resources, I quickly became aware that health isn't just medicine, but also about accessibility, communication and environment. That awareness is what led me to pursue biomedical engineering, where I hope to combine innovation and compassion to address the public health issues I have seen firsthand. One of the most urgent public health issues in my community is youth mental health. Many students at my high school carry heavy emotional burdens, whether it is the stress of academic expectations, financial strain, unstable home lives, or social pressures. Despite these realities, support is extremely limited. Most students do not have consistent access to mental health professionals. School counselors are often overwhelmed, and therapy services outside of school can be expensive or out of reach, especially for low-income or uninsured families. This lack of access leaves many young people without the tools they need to cope, heal, or simply feel heard. I believe that addressing this mental health crisis requires both community engagement and innovative solutions. As a future biomedical engineer, I want to be part of developing technologies and systems that make care more accessible, personal, and effective. To help tackle this issue, I would propose a program called Open Minds, a school-based mental health initiative that brings together students, educators, mental health professionals, and technology. Open Minds would consist of three main parts. First, it would include peer support circles, where trained student leaders work alongside licensed mental health professionals to create safe spaces for open conversation. These circles would meet regularly during or after school and give students a place to talk, connect, and support each other. Second, the program would partner with nearby colleges and universities to bring public health and psychology students into schools to run workshops and activities. These workshops would cover topics like stress management, social media pressure, and emotional resilience. This would not only support high school students but also give college students hands-on experience in community health work. Finally, I would design a mobile app to support mental health outside of meetings. Inspired by the work BeVera Solutions does in workforce data science, this app would offer daily self-care tips, anonymous emotional check-ins, and direct access to mental health resources. It would also allow schools to see general trends (securely and anonymously) so they can better understand student needs and plan support accordingly. This kind of solution, blending human connection with technology, is what excites me most about biomedical engineering. I want to create tools that are practical, personal, and rooted in empathy. Whether I am designing devices that mimic human tissues, digital tools, or support systems, I want my work to reflect the realities of the people who use them. My immigrant experience has shaped my values: resilience, resourcefulness, and a deep sense of responsibility to give back. I carry those values with me as I pursue biomedical engineering and as I work to build healthier, more equitable communities. Receiving this scholarship would help me continue that path and turn those values into lasting impact.